Prologue - Twilight Investigates (Story)

At the edge of Ponyville, right at the opening to the Ghastly Gorge, was an old abandoned clock tower. Twilight had always thought it odd that a clock tower was built in such an awkward place and wasn’t surprised to find it walled off as a derelict building. Ponyville was, after all, surrounded by all manner of the weird of wonderful, including magical cloning ponds, haunted castles, a monster-infested forest, etc. An abandoned clock tower was perfectly normal by comparison.
Or at least so Twilight thought, until she heard its bell toll.
She had always heard a bell toll somewhere in Ponyville every night at 7 PM right on the dot. It was unusual in that it was the only hour marked by a bell, even more unusual in that the bell would only toll the hour once. When she first moved to Ponyville, she thought it was just the town bell announcing nightfall. This was supported by another observation - the streets would slowly but surely thin out and empty shortly after the bell rang, suggesting that the bell signalled the townsponies to return to their homes before darkness fell.
That was until she started trying to visit her friends and neighbours after dark, only to ever find them answering the door a small hoofful of times.
She didn’t think much of it, putting it down to country ponies turning in early to allow them to get up earlier. She had left it at that. Years came, years went. Discord reformed. Tirek attacked. She became the Princess of Friendship. And Twilight never thought much of the bell or her fellow townsponies’ odd evening behaviour.
Until one day she was bowled over by a revelation.
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“Ponyville only has one bell! One!” Twilight Sparkle pointed out, her potato and dandelion soup lying forgotten and cold. “And do you know where it is?” She leaned so far across the restaurant table that it was a wonder gravity didn’t drop her facefirst in her dining companions’ meals.
“It’s not in my salad, dear, that’s for certain.” Her herd sister, Rarity, chided goodnaturedly.
“Hmm.” Her other lunch companion, a light amber unicorn stallion, had long since gotten used to dodging getting skewered by Twilight's horn during their regular weekday lunch meets. As far as Doctor Horse was concerned, getting impaled by excitement-incarnate is an acceptable risk that comes with having Equestria's most curious mare as a fillyfriend. “The clocktower?” He suggested with a little smile.
“Well, I’d fancy a guess too, but something tells me you’re simply dying to tell us anyway, darling.” Rarity said with a knowing smile.
“It’s in the clocktower!” Twilight went on, excitedly, “That abandoned one at the edge of the Ghastly Gorge!” She magically waved her entirely unused soup spoon due north. “I went up to Stargazer’s hill last night and counted down to 7PM. And guess what?”
"I'm really starting to enjoy this little guessing game," Rarity giggled into a forehoof.
“Let me guess, then. The bell rang?” Doctor Horse said, a forkful of rose salad held in a holding pattern near his mouth.
“The bell rang! It was the very same bell I hear ring just once every day at 7PM!” Twilight exclaimed. “And if you think that’s weird, wait ‘till you hear what I saw next!” She squeaked, practically bursting with excitement at her discovery. “I saw ponies! Ponies moving about in the shadows, entering the tower! That tower might be the very reason most ponies are nowhere to be seen after 7 every night!”
“It is certainly the reason your soup is growing cold.” Rarity teased.
“Well, if you’re really that curious, we can take a look around inside together.” Doctor Horse suggested, deciding his salad had waited long enough. “How about…”
“Tonight!” Twilight declared, “I’m going to investigate that tower tonight! I’ll get to the bottom of this, just you wait!”
“Tonight? Oh, that is a little soon.” Rarity said, a touch of worry on her face.
“Well, we can always accompany her,” Doctor Horse said, watching Twilight’s adorkable enthusiasm with amused endearment, “I’m sure we can make arrangements. How about—”
“I need to go make arrangements! Lunch was amazing! Same time tomorrow? I’ll tell you about everything I find!” The soup’s fate was sealed as its diner disappeared in a puff of teleportation.
“That went well, Prince Charming,” the restaurant’s Maitre’D said as he sauntered over. “Does she even know that you two are six months into dating her?”
“Oh shush, Maitre,” Doctor Horse chuckled, goodnaturedly. “A gentlecolt does not rush a lady. Princess Twilight has her own pace, one I’m very much enjoying.”
“Such a lovely gentlecolt you are, my Horseykins.” Rarity giggled, kissing the stallion on the cheek.
“Adorable.” The Maitre’D rolled his eyes. “But speaking of rushing, what are you two going to do about tonight?” He dropped his voice, despite the three of them being the only ones in the Hay Bale’s dining hall that afternoon. “She is no doubt going to find Clocktower.”
“As I said, Twilight has her own pace,” Doctor Horse said, offhoofedly.
“Do you think she’s ready, dear?” Rarity raised an eyebrow.
“I think that is for Twilight to decide for herself. Our task is to simply help make sure she doesn’t rush herself. Speaking of, Maitre, bill please. The two of us have a princess to find before she disappears without us." Doctor Horse said as he stood up and offered a forehoof which Rarity gratefully accepted. "Oh, and can I please book a table for three for tomorrow, as usual?”
“Such casual optimism. Just don’t cry all over me when you cancel your reservation after tonight,” the Maitre’D chuckled.
“Oh, I don’t plan on tears.” Doctor Horse smiled, “After all, Princess Cadence has assigned Rarity and I to her.” He and Rarity both shared a nod and a smile. “And the Princess of Love is never wrong.”
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Twilight had never been so frustrated in her life. There was something going on with the tower, there was no doubt about it. Unfortunately whatever it was included a magical forcefield of her brother’s calibre, one she couldn’t crack at the risk of warning its caster of her intrusion. The obnoxious barrier cared not for her teleportation spell either. At least there was nothing stopping her giving the barrier an almighty pout.
The old clock tower sat there, its smug shadow looming over her in the gathering twilight. It cast a sinister silhouette where it say between the gaping maw of the Ghastly Gorge. But Twilight only steeled her resolve. She’d crack its mystery once and for all….once she figured out a way to get in, that is.
Twilight fluttered back down to the tree line, receding into the dark shade cast by the last rays of sunset. Seriously, what’s up with that?! Even the Starswirl-The-Bearded wing of the royal archives wasn’t this heavily protected. But the overzealous defenses only served to convince the Princess of Friendship that something was going on inside that tower.
As she sat in the gathering dusk, the darkness reminded her of how alone she was. This may well be the first incident she faced all by herself in a long while. She would have gone to her friends for help. Except she had a strong suspicion they were also victims of the bell’s mysterious lure seeing as they would often be unavailable after 7PM. She gave a loud sigh as she forced herself to focus on the task at hoof. She had a plan B ready, she always did, though this one had risk margin just teetering between ‘acceptable’ and ‘Smarty Pants’. Pocketwatch in hoof, she counted down the minutes to 7 PM. 7…6...5...4...3...2…
The bell tolled.
Twilight’s ears drooped as the bell echoed exactly 6 times up and down the gorge, growing deeper and eerie with each echo. ‘It’s just sound waves bouncing back and forth, Twilight. Nothing to worry about.’ She tried to convince herself. She found her logic die away at the sight of the last slip of sunset dying away around the corner of Mount Canterhorn. A dark chill ran up her spine. She gathered what little courage she had left as she waited.
Soon enough, they arrived - Ponies, trotting up the old brick road leading up to the tower. Some walked in groups. Some seemed content to hang back by themselves. Some wrapped themselves in heavy cloaks and hoods. The smiles and lively chatter was certainly uncharacteristic for ponies under some evil spell.
To Twilight’s surprise, she also noticed a few Royal Night Guards and Love Guards in the mix, bearing lanterns for the group. They were mixed in amongst the ponies, detaching one by one from the group to stand guard at fixed intervals along the road, lighting up the path for any stragglers.
Twilight tightened the strap around her saddlebags, making sure they covered her wings and cutie-mark. A brief spell gave her what she thought was a more pedestrian manestyle, one not unlike the spiky wild one Aloe and Lotus had once experimented with. She would have gone with a more thorough disguise spell or even an invisibility spell, except she suspected whoever had installed the shield and anti-teleportation field would have also considered those possibilities. With her preparations complete, she took slow, deep breaths. ‘We can do this, Twilight!’ She psyched herself up as she slipped out of the shadows and pressed herself into the throng of ponies on the road.
She was filled with so much relief at blending in so smoothly that she only noticed the five ponies in front of her belatedly - She recognized them as Big Mac, Cheerilee, Marble Pie, Fleetfoot and her own best friend, Fluttershy. She gave a tiny squeak of surprise. Thankfully for Twilight, Cheerilee and Fleetfoot’s animated chatter held their attention.
Twilight tarried a little, putting another pony or two between herself and Fluttershy’s group. She studied her friend from behind. The cheerful smile and gentle blush on the animal caretaker’s face didn’t suggest a pony in the clutches of some evil spell. Frowning, Twilight scanned the rest of the crowd. Her heart raced faster and faster as she noticed more of her friends ahead of her - Rainbow Dash fluttering alongside Soarin and Spitfire, Pinkie Pie bouncing along by herself, and Applejack holding tails with Caramel.
Whatever this was, it had four of the six Elements of Harmony in its clutches! Equestria is doomed!
‘Get it together, Twilight’ Twilight gave herself a mental slap. ‘You’re the only hope now! It’s all on you now! So...no pressure.’
She totally wasn’t feeling left out of whatever was going on.
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The gates in the tall, imposing walls that marked the tower as a derelict site slowly opened to allow the ponies through. Twilight felt a chill run down her spine as she entered, the telltale feel of a magic barrier washing over her. She looked up. Her jaw fell. The derelict tower was not-so derelict anymore. In fact, it was fully lit with braziers bearing bright yellow fires lining every level. It was crowned by an eerily glowing red clockface that rivalled the moon, a mighty cyclops that peered disdainfully down at her. The clocktower sat atop a hall big enough to be a palace, the architecture of which Twilight dated back to the time of the Two Sisters. In fact, judging by its exterior, it was probably part of the old grand palace complex centered around the Castle of the Two Sisters. Twilight had never seen architecture from that age this well preserved, not even in Canterlot.
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-Guest-starring Clocktower Society art by Wintergleam -
As they crossed the wide circular stone courtyard in front of the palace, Twilight couldn’t help but notice their ranks swelling with more and more ponies. A glance around quickly identified the reason. The courtyard was surrounded by raised platforms bearing teleportation gates through which ponies appeared by the dozens. Signs engraved above each gate suggested there were gates to every major location in Equestria, from Manehattan to Van Hoover. The ponies seemed to mingle seamlessly with ponies from opposite sides of Equestria meeting and nuzzling each other affectionately.
Twilight was just trying to wrap her mind around the scale of what was going on around her when her attention was drawn to the palace doors. The architecture certainly kept up with the whole theme of grandeur, the gigantic double doors being tall and wide enough to let a grown dragon through. They stood wide open, allowing ponies to file into rows of gate-shaped devices that she recognized as magic detectors, likely a countermeasure against disguise and invisibility spells, just as Twilight had predicted. She noticed the ponies would show the guards some sort of badge before being allowed through a scanner.
A badge Twilight didn’t have.
She bit her lip. She was too deep inside the main body of the crowd to slip out. It would have drawn too much attention to herself, maybe even risking discovery by her friends. She decided to try the schoolhouse trick of slipping in with a larger crowd. She attached herself to a group of weathermares being led by Thunderlane, ducking low behind the familiar form of Cloud Kicker and Blossomforth.
It was all going perfectly. Thunderlane’s group filtered into a security gate being watched by a lazy-looking guardspony who was waving them all through as one. Unfortunately for Twilight, a security mare appeared, splitting crowds into a newly opened gate. Noticing the empty security lane, Cloud Kicker dragged Blossomforth away with her, leaving Twilight in an awkward spot. Before she could make up her mind, the lazy guard had already gestured her over. “Badge?” The guard asked.
Twilight froze on the spot, blood curdling in her stunned heart. ‘WhatDoIDoWhatDoIDoWhatDoIDo?!’ She squeaked inwardly.
“Hmm?” A tall, stallward-looking stallion trotting down the line of security gates paused by Twilight’s. She squirmed as he studied her carefully. “Oh, that one’s on the guest list. Give her a guest pass and let her through,” he said without a second thought.
A bewildered Twilight suddenly found herself ushered through the security gate. The lazy guard didn’t as much as look at her as he hoofed her a circular metal badge. It was engraved with a stylized likeness of the clock tower. The word ‘Clocktower’ was stamped across the badge’s centre in heavy, solid print.
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Finally, a name to call this madness - ‘Clocktower’.
She decided to hurry away before the security guards could change their minds. ‘They must think I’m somepony else.’ Twilight thought, thanking her lucky stars. Deciding she probably didn’t have much time before the guards realized their mistake, she forged onwards into the hall beyond.
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Twilight had a difficult time deciding whether the interior was more Canterlot Palace or one of those Manehattan red carpet clubs Rarity dragged them all to for her boutique’s after-party. It was certainly vast with high vaulted ceilings and gilded walls interspersed with marble colonnades. But what stood out the most was the stylized clocktower logo proudly emblazoned on everything from the wall tapestries to the red and gold carpeting covering the hallways. Twilight couldn’t help but think of it as borderline obsessive, maybe even fanatical.
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What she saw next only clinched her suspicions. The vaulted ceiling gave way to a high domed roof topping a large, circular hall. Whoever designed the complex layers of defense certainly didn’t count on somepony making it this far as a friendly-looking map and signpost greeted her alongside what looked like a community bulletin board.
But no matter how eager she was to study the wealth of information before her, her eyes were irresistibly drawn to the center of the room. Above, engraved into the plinth supporting the dome, were the words ‘Welcome to Clocktower Equestria East, Home of the Clocktower Mares’.
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As if to confirm Twilight’s fears that this mystery extended far beyond her hometown, below it hung a map of the known world, with a large clocktower logo sited over Ponyville. ‘That must be this place’ Twilight thought as she studied the map, ‘But then what are all those other sites?’ More clocktowers marked the map, one other Equestrian site in San Franciscolt, one in Yakyakistan, one in Gryphonia, seven in Zebrica, one in Minos, six in Saddle Arabia, one in Neighpon and many, many more across the whole world. Whatever ‘Clocktower’ was, it was big.
As if to complete the pompously fanatical look of the place, the center of the hall was dominated by an indoor fountain garden built around a gigantic marble statue.
Twilight’s jaw dropped.
It was a marble sculpture that Twilight recognized from the many texts disputing its very existence, one that allegedly dated back to the founding of Equestria, postulated to have been destroyed 1000 years ago to erase the truth behind the Fires of Friendship. It depicted Princess Platinum, her muzzle briddled and her magic sealed with a horn wring, offering her reins up to Smart Cookie; Private Pansy offering his neck to be collared by Clover the Clever; And Chancellor Pudding Head kissing the hooftips of Commander Hurricane. The base of the mighty statue was engraved in ancient Unicornian, Pegasopolan and Earthling text. Twilight knew enough of all three to understand what it said - ‘By the Fires of Devotion, Your word is Law’
It all came together in Twilight’s mind. ‘The Fires of Devotion’, a very common object of worship for the fictional mating cults and secret societies in many of her more… ‘secretive’ bedtime reading. But they had always been just that, fictional.
But here it was, a mating cult in the flesh, on a scale far bigger than anything she had ever encountered even in the most fantastical fiction, with some sort of dark spell that held even her best friends in its sway.
Her eyebrow twitched dangerously. Maybe, just maybe, Twilight might be in a little over her head.

Excerpt from the Safe Word and Safety Bell Introduction booklet
By Submissive Instructor, Twilight Velvet
Hello and welcome to our wonderful little family, the Clocktower Society. While our society operates many Clocktower sites across the world, each with their own local cultures and traditions, all of us operate on one universal principle - Your Safeword is Law, a slogan we're not particularly shy about writing on everything, even our cafe napkins. And for good reason - it is the one guiding principle that underpins everything we do as a society, whether here at our mare training site at Clocktower Equestria East, our stallion training site at Clocktower Equestria West or as far away as Clocktower Neighpon.
This principle is enshrined in our three core safewords. Dominants and submissives are required to understand the use of said safewords as well as the safety bell before being allowed formal admission into the Society. While the guidelines for use will be covered extensively in your induction, this booklet will serve to explain the basics.
While the Society stands for the pursuit of pleasure through the ultimate domination and submission lifestyle, we believe that true enjoyment, complete submission and satisfying domination is only possible through the knowledge that everyone involved is safe, sane and consenting. In the words of the submissive committee chairmare, slave no. LN-0112, ‘True submission is the offering and acceptance of a whole and willing heart’. Our devotion and acceptance is truly great and beautiful because it is a choice made freely and willingly.
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In order to create the most immersive domination and submission experience possible, consent is assumed within the site’s grounds until explicitly withdrawn. Consent for submissives is implied by their collars (more information available in the guide on collars) while consent for dominants is more loosely implied by their masks. As consent is implicit at Clocktower, a rigorous system for withdrawing consent is important.
We acknowledge that some forms of domination and submission play involve roleplaying refusal, unwillingness and forced acts. It is therefore important to have a clear method of withdrawing consent that cannot be mistaken for roleplay. This is where the three safewords and the safety bell come in.
It is a common misconception that safe words are only for the use of submissives. While it is true it is more common for submissives to use them, they are also available for use by dominants. Being a dominant is a position of responsibility, and responsibility can at times prove uncomfortable. As such it is important that dominants can withdraw from that position if the discomfort ever proves too much.
The Safe Words
The safe words are words that can be uttered by either dominant or submissive to slow down, pause or completely cease a session.
The Safety Bell
The safety bell is almost exclusively for the use of submissives, to be used when they cannot otherwise use their safe words, e.g. when their mouths are gagged. The safety bell is a magically-enchanted bell tied by a ribbon to the end of the submissive’s tail. It is important therefore to know that while dock rings and binding the dock to the collar to keep the tail up is allowed, it is entirely prohibited to bind the rest of the tail in any way that stops the submissive from using her safety bell.
The safety bell’s enchantment ensures that it will only ring when truly willed by the submissive. As such it is unlikely for it to accidentally interrupt play. There are three different codes a submissive can ring, each corresponding to the three safe words.
The Three Stages of Consent Withdrawal and Their Corresponding Safe Words and Safety Bell Codes
Slower Pace
Safe Word: Staircase
Bell Code: 3 rings
This signals both sides to slow down the pace and/or tone down the intensity of play without requiring full cessation of activities. What this involves depends on the type of play. If it is intercourse then the it may mean taking it slower and gentler, for example.
Pause
Safe Word: Clockface
Bell Code: 5 rings
This signals both sides to take a break from activities. It is allowed and even encouraged for both parties to break roleplay and hold a candid talk of why the pause was necessary. While it is advisable to remove anything gagging the submissive’s mouth during this time, the removal of bondage and other gear is optional and entirely up to both sides. Activity resumes when the safe word is uttered again by both parties.
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Full Stop
Safe word: Towertop
Bell Code: 7 rings
This signals both sides to cease play completely, otherwise known as the ‘Stop, drop, unknot and comfort’ code. All activities must cease immediately. The partner who used the safe word must immediately be checked for both signs of life and injury (refer to the Health, Safety and First Aid guide by Health Leads, Doctor Horse and Nurse Red Heart). Afterwards they must be carefully and safely released from all bondage. The most experienced dominants and submissives agree that this is a very opportune time to comfort the partner who used the safe word.
While the code must of course be used with care, it takes a lot of trust in one’s partner to be able to use the code with confidence. Conversely, one must also be able to trust their partner can and will use the safeword if they need it to in order to dominate/submit confidently. Truly, the safewords are the greatest expression of trust between dominants and submissives.

While she was a little embarrassed to admit it, Twilight had read enough fiction featuring secret sex cults and societies (mostly works by the celebrated author, Love Song) to know she was following one of their formulaic plots - curious pony investigates cult for reasons, pony gets caught and tied up, orgy ensues, pony ends up becoming member of cult.
Her pussy turned damp at the very thought of being caught, her virgin body trussed up as stallions lined up to pound the cult’s newest morsel of fresh meat. Twilight ignored the touch of dread she felt in the deepest pits of her stomach. She had to be brave for her friends. Who knows what could be happening to them in the bowels of this house of horrors? She felt herself grow even wetter at the thought of Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy being ravaged in both ends, being used as cumdumps by dozens upon dozens of horny stallions. She had to hurry and get to the bottom of this, for their sake. No pun intended.
Twilight frowned at the bulletin board. The posters and messages were in no way… ‘normal’.
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Clocktower Maid servce What does all of that even mean?
Deciding the bulletin board was a waste of both words and time, she turned to the site directory beside it. At least somepony had neatly divided the place into three main levels. There were the upper palaces containing the ‘ballroom’, ‘club rooms’, ‘restaurants’, ‘maids quarters’ and ‘private accommodations’. The map helpfully warned her that they were only open to ‘Dominants and accompanied Submissives’. Her raunchy bedtime reading had taught her enough to understand what ‘dominant’ and ‘submissive’ meant, though seeing it used in real life gave her no end of thrill chills.
The main floors where she was contained seemingly innocent things labelled ‘Tea Room’, ‘Gift Shop’, ‘Amenities Store’, ‘Toy Shop’, ‘Administration’, ‘Laundrette’, ‘Seminar Rooms’, ‘Spa and Baths’, ‘Sexual Health Clinic’, ‘Infirmary’, ‘Movie Theatres’ and ‘Viewing galleries’ and was apparently open to anypony including ponies bearing visitor badges. Twilight felt a touch of hope at that.
The lower floors were collectively called the ‘Dungeons’ and extended several floors underground, sprawling out into a network of underground caves and caverns. The areas down there bore labels ranging from questionable such as: ‘Safe Word Rooms’, ‘Submissive Lockers’, ‘Dominant Lockers’, ‘Collaring Chambers’, ‘Sanitation Hall’, ‘Grand Feeding Hall’, ‘After-Care Hall’, ‘Movie Studios’ and ‘Transformation Centre’; Ranging to downright sinister such as: ‘Slave Registry’, ‘Slave Cages and Kennels’, ‘Breeding Halls’, ‘Public Cumdumps’, ‘Milking Halls’, ‘Torture Chambers’, ‘Slave Auction Hall’, ‘Taming Stalls’, ‘Cock Augmentation’, ‘Tentacle Vine Pit’, ‘Mare Breaking Chambers’ and many more. A warning sign restricted entry to the lower levels to dominants and collared submissives. In fact, collared submissives were not allowed out of the Dungeons without being accompanied by a dominant.
Twilight carefully memorized the map, even as her pussy began to leak an uncomfortable shiver ran down her spine with each room label she committed to memory. As she had visitor privileges, she decided to stick to the main floors until it became absolutely necessary to sneak into the Dungeon levels. Thankfully the map suggested that the main floor’s Viewing Galleries ran around the edge of most of the dungeon’s major facilities. She decided to start there.
She looked around. Most ponies passing through the hall didn’t seem to give her much mind, all of them making a beeline for the grand staircase leading downwards into what was undoubtedly the Dungeon levels. She split off from the crowds, taking another corridor. She quickly found the gilded double doors she was looking for, helpfully signposted as the ‘Viewing Galleries’.
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A sign greeted her just inside.
Welcome to the Viewing Galleries
Rules:
- Everypony is invited to observe and indulge themselves.
- Dominants are invited to use their submissives.
- Submissives are invited to pleasure their dominants.
- Do NOT engage in any extreme types of play anywhere in the galleries.
Twilight felt another blush rise at the casual way the sign treated public mating. She slinked past it, silently thankful that there was nopony in the galleries, much less anypony ‘indulging’ themselves. She looked about. The gallery was a dimly-lit hall lined with tall glass windows much like any regular observatory. They seemed to overlook the dungeon halls nestled in the gorge's caverns below. A number of touristy tower viewers were mounted along the railings, allowing observers to get a close-up view of the action below. It almost reminded Twilight of the time she visited the Manehattan zoo, except she had a feeling the contents here might be a touch wilder in comparison. As if to complete the comparison, each glass window had a large information blurb to one side describing its contents.
Twilight approached the first one, trepidation rising as she read the header on the blurb - ‘Slave Pens’.
Slave Pens
This is where slaves for public use are stored when awake and not in use (Society Regulations requires resting slaves to be stored safely in the communal cages or in their owner’s personal quarters). Slaves lacking a user would often willingly come here to await use. This is especially true of society-owned slaves who lack a named owner and are free for use by any member of the society. Owned slaves might also be stored here by their own masters or mistresses for free use by other society members as part of their training. Slaves would often strive to make themselves presentable to attract potential users.
Society members in need of a personal slave would visit the pens, browse and try out available slaves before claiming their choice for the evening and taking them for use in the rest of the dungeons. The user becomes the trainer responsible for the slave’s use, care and wellbeing until the slave is returned to the pen or the play ends. It is not uncommon for Society-owned slaves and society members seeking a long-term slave to bond over an evening of play and eventually agree to an ownership contract.
The cold, clinical description certainly didn’t do the pandemonium below justice. It didn’t help that as Twilight stepped closer to the glass wall, some kind of magical field activated, allowing the sound of moaning mares and wet slapping of flanks from the hall below to bowl her over. She did her best to ignore the white noise, focusing her mind tried to tease out any useful details from the chaos.
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Braziers suspended from the ceiling lit up the walls of roughly-hewn rock and the smooth flooring of some dark material she didn’t recognize. Chains hung from wooden beams and wall rings. As if to complete the stereotypical dungeon look, a row of cages of various sizes made up one wall. They were filled with mares wearing collars, ranging from single mares in the smaller cages to many crammed into the bigger cell-sized ones. ‘The collared ones must be slaves’, Twilight bit her lip as she looked at the rest of the slaves around the room.
What looked like market booths and stalls were arrayed along another wall, if markets regularly displayed mares posing, some even tied, in a variety of enticing positions. The market-look was completed by mares curled up in cages under and around the stall tables and more hanging from wall chains and display racks, some suspended by their front hooves, some upside down by their rear hooves, like fresh fuck-meat waiting to be ravaged by passing customers. Many more rested on pillow piles strewn around the room, ready to be picked up by prospective masters.
And from the looks of the activity in the room, they didn’t have to wait long. There was no shortage of both stallions and mares wearing masks instead of collars. ‘They must be the masters and mistresses’ Twilight thought. She watched as a pair of pegasus stallions pulled a cage open and, with all the casualness of picking an apple from a bushel, pulled the unicorn mare inside out onto the floor. The mare barely managed to raise her rear and tail into the air and present herself before one of the stallions mounted her, pounding his member all the way into her foalhole in one thrust. The unicorn mare screamed for but a moment before her muzzle was gagged by the other stallion’s cock. The poor mare’s lithe frame tensed and spasmed in obvious instantaneous orgasm, her muffled cries only encouraging the pegasus to thrust harder into her screaming throat. Twilight quickly averted her eyes, the growing heat in her nether becoming more and more distracting, unable to watch a moment longer.
Her eyes only landed on a masked unicorn mistress and earth pony master. The two were idly thrusting their forehooves alternatingly in and out of a helpless pegasus mare who was strung up by her forehooves with her cunny held wide open by some sort of cruel-looking spreading device. The poor pegasus slave cried into her gag as her convulsing body squirted all over the master and mistress’ forehooves. The pair took a look at the fluid dribbling down their hooves, turning it this way and that in the light as if appraising its qualities, before taking a lick like connoisseurs appreciating fine wine. The couple shared a nod of agreement before untying the still-orgasming slave mare and dragging her twitching body along the floor out of the slave pens. It was almost as if...as if they were browsing the stock, trying out the wares before deciding on a toy to play with for the night!
Twilight simply had to get a closer look, the burning in her loins would not allow her otherwise to understand the nature of whatever evil had taken over these normally good ponies. She peered into the nearest tower viewer, training its viewfinder on the nearest row of cages. Her heart leapt as she recognized somepony - her friend, Tree Hugger - in one very narrow upright cage. The earth pony mare’s neck was bound by a white collar, her hooves and thighs adorned with white leather straps, the end of her tail wrapped with a white bell on a ribbon. ‘Those must mean she’s a slave too’ Twilight thought, imagining herself bound and marked as a slave waiting to be used gritting her teeth at the sheer depravity of collaring a fellow pony like an animal, a pet to be kept caged, her lust constantly restrained by her chains, taken out only when her master has need of her willing body.
Tree Hugger’s forehooves were bound high above her head to the vertical cage bars. The bright green mare moaned loudly as she pressed her hungry cunt up against the bar, spreading her pussy lips around its girth as she grinded her tender button and soft mare parts against the cold, hard steel. Her passionate show attracted a passing mare and stallion, both wearing masquerade masks. Their masks did not stop Twilight from recognizing them as Applejack’s rich Manehattan relatives, Mosely Orange and Sweet Orange. The couple paused to admire the ropes of glistening mare-juice Tree Hugger had lathered all over her cage bar.
The magical sound spell on the viewing window seemed to pick up on the object of the tower viewer’s focus, magnifying the sounds from Tree Hugger’s corner of the room.
“Present your pussy for inspection, slave.” Sweet Orange ordered.
“Totally, ma’am.” Tree Hugger moaned softly as she spread her hind legs apart, revealing something that took the couple by surprise – pair of clover clamps tightly clasped to her pussy lips. They were linked to her thigh straps by very short lengths of chain, causing every movement of her thighs to stretch it taut. As her hindlegs parted wider and wider, the clamps pulled her pussy open wider and wider until her tight cunny was gaping for the couple’s viewing pleasure.
“Hmm, good filly,” Sweet Orange smiled, licking her lips at the mare’s surprisingly devoted display. “I like how wet it is already.” She reached through the bars, pressing a forehoof into Tree Hugger’s spread pussy. The poor slave groaned, leaking more hot marecum as her pussy lips winked around Sweet Orange’s intruding forehoof. The slave moaned as she arched her back, struggling against her bonds to push her starving cunny against Sweet’s hoof.
“And it’s especially tight despite it’s wide breeding hips. It’d make an excellent pleasure toy for a few years until we need a breeding slave,” she commented idly, as if appraising a cauliflower at the farmer’s market.
“I like it’s moans. I’m sure they’d feel amazing around my cock.” Mosely Orange said, caressing Tree Hugger’s cheek. The slave mare sensed his wish, obediently opening her mouth for his inspection. “It’s got a nice long tongue I’m sure you’ll enjoy, honey.” Mosely said, peering inside. “It has the throat of a singer, well-toned and tight. I think I’ll enjoy making it my personal cocksleeve.” Tree Hugger moaned hungrily, her face blushing with obvious desire.
“What is your name, slave?” Sweet Orange asked.
“Society-slave number TRHGR - 0384, ma’am.” Tree Hugger slowly, sensuously raised one hindleg all the way up to her head in an admirable show of flexibility, revealing what must be her slave number tattooed in the crux of her inner thigh.
“Oh, how flexible. I can already imagine all the possibilities.” Sweet Orange grinned.
“This is a request, not an order. Would you tell us your real name?” Mosely Orange asked.
“This slave’s name was Tree Hugger, sir,” Tree Hugger said, her naughty smile turning meek upon introducing her real self, “This slave’s special talent is, like, spreading herself around wood of any size and hardness,” her meekness vanished in an instant as she gave the couple a saucy wink.
The moment of meekness was not lost on the couple however, the two blushing briefly at the adorable show. “Before we claim you, tell us, what do you desire, slave?” Mosely asked, reaching inside the cage with what looked like a leash. Except to Twilight’s bewilderment the end of the leash split in three, ending in not one but three clips.
Tree Hugger answered with a half-lidded smile, her tongue slinking out to hungrily lick the clips at the end of the leash. She unhooked her bound forehooves from the cage’s ceiling and took hold of the leash, feeding it through a ring in her collar. Mosely stood transfixed, allowing Tree Hugger to run the leash all the way down from her collar ring to her eager nethers. The Oranges watched the slave mare’s hypnotic forehooves as she curled a hoof around one pert teat. Tree Hugger moaned loudly as she cruelly twisted and tugged her tender teat into standing painfully taut in her grip. There was a loud click as the willing slave clasped the leash’s spring-loaded clover clamp around the base of her own swollen nipple. She gave another sensuous moan as she subjected her other teat to the clover clamp’s merciless grip.
Tree Hugger panted as she took hold of the last clover clamp. She obviously didn’t have a third nipple, so it took Twilight little imagination to figure out where it was going. The trepidation at the thought showed on Tree Hugger’s face, the mare biting her lip as she slowly peeled back the hood from her already engorged clit.
“Good filly.” Sweet Oranges smiled at the lustrous display of subservience from the mare. “Now show me how much you want to be ours.”
Tree Hugger nodded eagerly, humming pleasurably at her new mistress’ command. She whimpered as she slowly, firmly dug the clamp into the base of her clit before ruthlessly clamping the very root, ensuring her clit would remain stiffly erect out in the open for as long as her leash was on. She gave a loud moan as the cold ruthless metal tightened around her hot, throbbing clit, putting herself at the mercy of her new master and mistress.
Her eagerness was swiftly met. She had barely gotten used to the cruel metal on her tender mare bits when when they were suddenly tightened by a merciless tug on her leash. Her moan turned into a passionate cry as the leash pulled her body tight against the cage bars. “Aaaah! M-Master! M-Mistress!” Tree Hugger cried as a constant pull on her leash slowly, torturously tightened the clover clamps on her tender teats and and clit. She was forced to spread her legs even further as the leash forced her tender cunt folds up against the cold cage bar. “Y-yes, t-tighter!” She cried, seemingly completely forgetting her role as a submissive. Her abused pussy leaked as it was spread more and more around the unforgiving metal bar.
“Is that how you beg your master and mistress?” Mosely chided, even as he pulled the leash even tighter.
“That just means it needs to be broken in and taught how to use its mouth properly, in more ways than one.” Sweet Oranges said, grabbing hold of the slave’s hindlegs. She made use of the mare’s obvious flexibility, prying her legs apart even further. The slave cried out as her spreading legs caused her labia clamps to part her tight foalhole even further. Sweet Oranges smiled as she bound the slave’s hindhoof straps to the outermost cage bars. Tree Hugger panted as she offered her forehoof straps to her mistress for her to uncouple them. The slave willingly allowed her mistress to guide her freed forehooves and tie them to the upper outermost cage bars, completing her spreadeagle-ing.
A look of trepidation dawned on Tree Hugger’s face as the clover clamps spreading her tight mare-hole were suddenly untied from her thigh straps by her mistress. She groaned loudly, her fears coming true as the chains were slowly, punishingly pulled apart until her engorged folds were stretched taut. Without ceremony, the chains spreading her cunt were secured to the cage bars, leaving her wide open for the world to see just how tight and wet she was inside. Tree Hugger groaned eagerly as her pussy leaked fresh mare-juice all over the cage bars.
Sweet Orange’s forehooves curled around the slave’s rump in a tight hug through the bars, tugging hard to mash Tree Hugger’s cunny harder against the metal bar separating them. Sweet grinned maliciously as she rocked Tree Hugger against the cage, grounding the slave’s pussy against the cold metal bar mercilessly. Tree Hugger gave a loud cry of forced ectasy as Sweet Orange smacked her rump hard. Again and again, each smack causing her to bounce against the metal bar harder and harder. Moseley Orange licked his lips at the sight of her curvy tush jiggling under his wife’s expert spanking. “Moan harder, slave. I want to be able to hear it through my cock when I spread your throat.” He ordered, tugging the leash in time with his wife’s rocking and spanking. Together the two forced the helplessly-spread little slave to dry-hump her own cage.
“Do you think you’ll be orgasming tonight?” Sweet Orange whispered in the panting and moaning slave’s ear.
“Not tonight you won’t, cocksleeve. You’ll be giving yourself to us, mind, body and soul, again and again and again until you have nothing left.” Mosely chuckled in her other ear. “Are you ready?”
“Y-yes!” Tree Hugger gasped, her entire body trembling like a leaf as the couple mercilessly pounded her spread pussy against her own cage.
“You don’t sound like you want to give yourself to your new Master and Mistress.” Sweet Orange sighed.
“P-please…” Tree Hugger rasped as Sweet Orange drew a particularly desperate cry from her.
“Please what?” Mosely asked lightly, drawing her leash taut, leaving her abused nipples and clit to stretch to the very limit with every forced buck of her hips.
“P-please totally take this slave, M-master, M-mistress!” Tree Hugger pleaded desperately, her breathing short and laboured.
“Good filly.” Sweet Orange’s smile widened as she tightened her grip on her slave’s rump, mercilessly squeezing her pussy and clit against the cold metal.
“Now give all of yourself to us, hard.” Mosely growled, giving the leash a sharp tug.
Tree Hugger’s entire body tensed up as she let out a scream of passion. Thick hot marecum gushed from her spread-open foalhole, staining the metal bar and the floor beneath her with ropey strands of her essence. But Sweet and Mosely did not relent, seemingly intent on milking every last drop as they continued rocking and spanking the mare against her cage. As the couple forced the last throes of passion out of the slave’s quivering body, the poor spent mare collapsed limply against the cage, hanging helplessly from her forehoof straps.
Poor Tree Hugger was still lost in her forced ectasy when she felt herself lurch as the cage was lowered backwards flat onto the floor. “A-aaaannnhhh!” She cried wearily, her entire body suddenly facing the ceiling, suspended from the cage bars by her spread-eagled hoof straps and the two clamps spreading her quivering pussy open. There were three or four inches between her back and the cage bars now flat against the ground. She could probably rest her back on the ground if she relaxed all four legs, but that would cause the pussy clamps, nipple leash and clit leash to stretch her already-tender flesh. As if that wasn’t enough motivation for her, a new prize was suddenly dangled right in front of her nose.
Both Mosely and Sweet had clambered atop her cage, Sweet over her leaking pussy and Mosely over her face. Tree Hugger’s panting muzzle began to drool at the sight of Mosely’s long, thick stallionhood throbbing above her like ripe hanging fruit.
“Oh, do you want something, slave?” Mosely teased, idly rubbing his shaft.
Tree Hugger gulped hungrily, her spread pussy visibly winking. She gave a little nod, subconsciously opening her mouth at the sight of the gleaming bead of pre gathering at the end of Moseley’s cock.
“You think you want cock?” Mosely grinned. “Good, because I’m going to make you work for it. I’m going to make every inch of cock you get an achievement. By the end of the night you will be reduced to a cocksleeve that craves nothing but cock” He milked a drop of pre, allowing it to dribble slowly, tantalizingly. Tree Hugger gave a desperate groan, opening her mouth wide to catch the drop she craved. She managed to catch the glistening rope of pre with her tongue. The slave moaned pleasurably as she swirled the morsel in her mouth, like a connoisseur appraising a sip of wine. The single drop seemed to awaken a fiery hunger in her. She moaned desirously, pulling herself up to the cage bars by her bound hooves with an encouraging pull on her leash from her Master. She pressed her muzzle between the bars, craning her tongue out for more. Unfortunately her nose only barely brushed the tip of the cock she craved, even as she desperately craned her tongue for it.
“Pleaaase, Master!” The poor slave pleaded, pressing her face against the bars.
“Please what, slave?” Mosely demanded as he held her leash taut.
“Please, give this slave your cock!” The cock-deprived mare cried in desperation.
“Oh?” Moseley teased, “If you want it so much, beg me properly. Tell me where you want it.”
“L-like, p-please use your cock to pound this slave’s mouth and make your flare mould this slave’s throat into your all-natural cocksleeve, M-master.” She pleaded.
Her master seemed stunned by his slave’s surprisingly desperate plea. He gave a loud growl of desire as he braced himself. “Give your safety-bell a test ring, Tree Hugger.” Mosely ordered, curtly.
Tree Hugger’s glazed, sex-hungry look evaporated briefly. She nodded, flicking her tail to ring the bell tied to the end, producing a surprisingly loud tinkle. All the other masters and mistresses playing with their slaves nearby paused in their play, their ears twitching attentively. With no more tinkles forthcoming, they quickly returned to ravaging their slaves.
“Good, because you won’t be using your throat for much else.” Mosely’s grin returned. “I will be turning it into nothing more than a cockwarmer.” He produced a large rubber ring-gag. “Any last words before I make you into a perfect little cocksleeve?”
Tree Hugger replied with a deep kiss on her Master’s cock tip. She licked her lips mischievously at the sudden throb of pleasure in her Master’s shaft. Before her Master could reproach her, she obediently closed her eyes and opened her mouth wide.
“Oh, you naughty little cockslut.” Mosely growled as he pushed the wide but flexible gag in her willing muzzle, forcing her mouth wide open. Tree Hugger groaned with anticipation as she felt her mouth spread apart in preparation to become a helpless cock receptacle. “As a little reward for being such a cock-hungry whore, I’ll tell you what this gag is for. First of all, it’s custom-made to fit my extra-wide flare.” He demonstrated by comfortably fitting his cock through the wide ring. He gave a satisfied groan as he fed the first few inches of his shaft into her wet, eager mouth. He took his time, grinding his tip into her tongue luxuriously, making it clear he was using her for nothing but his own pleasure. His slave moaned happily at finally having her hot cockwarmer filled like the cheap sex toy she is.
Twilight reeled at her own thoughts, if only briefly. How could she even begin to think of a fellow pony that way?! But her sopping wet nethers would not allow her desire-addled mind to think of Tree Hugger in any other terms. Twilight pressed her eyes against the viewfinder, eager to not miss a moment of this pony being reduced to nothing more than a naughty plaything.
“Secondly, the gag is here to allow me to continue enjoying my new cocksock while my wife has her way with you.” Mosely grinned. “We have a competition going, you see. She likes seeing how loud she can make ponies scream around my cock, I like seeing how shrill I can make mares scream in her pussy. I hate to admit it, but she’s in the lead...and tonight she gets to start first.” Tree Hugger’s eyes widened as she tried to peer down at whatever it was Sweet Orange was doing. “Ah, ah, no looking down. Neck straight so I can use your throat.” The earth pony slave moaned as her master tugged on her leash, forcing her to obey and offer her throat up to him. “Good filly.” He gave a loud groan as he thrust his flare down the tight ring of her throat.
‘Ulp...ulp….ulp….’ Tree Hugger made exaggerated gulping sounds as she swallowed her master deeper into herself.
“Buck, this cocksock sounds so sexy.” Mosely groaned pleasurably at the eager sounds his slave was making around his cock. “Must’ve had training from Berry Punch herself.” He began to thrust into her, her girlish moans matching his restless tempo. The slave even threw in a few gasps and squeals of delight, anything to heighten her master’s pleasure.
The slave was quickly rewarded by a sudden assault upon her nethers. Her master’s tug on the leash had pulled upon the base of her clit, cruelly exposing its fleshy nub to the silken lashing of what could only be a tongue. Her attacker alternated whipping her clit with her tongue and suckling it down to its constricted base, forcing more blood to engorge its already stiff and swollen head.
Twilight could almost see, no, feel herself in the poor slave’s place. She could feel her mistress’ hoof stretch her spread flower mercilessly as she continued to assault her defenseless clit. Her rear legs would pull her rear up, pressing her leaking pussy against the cage to offer it to her mistress. Her mistress would giggle into her clit at her show of willingness before stretching Twilight slowly, torturously around her unlubed hoof. Her mistress would draw out louder and longer screams from her, only for her throat to massage and milk that fat horsecock in her mouth. Neither would care for the forcibly drawn-out pleasure assaulting her body. They were merely using her helpless little body for their own pleasure like the sex toy she was.
Twilight felt a hoof rubbing her helplessly leaking pussy lips. She was surprised to find it was her own, frantically trying to keep up with Tree Hugger. “No...noooo….” She gasped in one final act of denial before she completely gave in. She was the slave, helpless in the hooves of her owners claiming her body as their own. She gave a muffled cry of acceptance as her master thrust his thick stallionhood all the way down to the hilt, every throbbing inch flaring hard, anchoring himself deep inside her throat as he shot rope after rope of hot seed to fill her waiting belly. Her mistress bit down on her clit before twisting and tugging mercilessly as her hoof pumped her abused pussy into a forced orgasm. Amidst that blinding white pleasure, she gave herself to her master and mistress.
Twilight panted, her quivering body propped up by nothing but the tower viewer. She finally gathered enough strength in her quivering hooves to pull herself up. She felt confused at what was happening, even more shaken at what she had just done. She had just clopped to her friend being tortured. ‘W-was that the power of the e-evil spell of this place?’ She thought, fearfully. It was so strong that even the Element of Magic was beginning to succumb to its power. ‘Wh-what would happen to me if I stayed any longer?’ She thought as she shakily peered into the view finder again. The view was strangely fuzzy, as if the tower viewer was running out of magic. But she could just about make out the Oranges as they untied Tree Hugger’s limp, quivering form from the cage and threw her across Mosely’s back like a sack, a cum sack.
“I like this filly, honey,” Mosely said casually as his wife went about tying the slave’s hoof straps together, “I think she’s a keeper.”
“We’ll have to take our time breaking her for the rest of this weekend then,” Sweet said. “Though you know I haven’t tested how good it’d be as my new pussy-brush.”
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll be able to make her scream enough to rock your world, honey.” Mosely grinned. “How would you like to be my wife’s new stool, slave?” He asked the slave draped across his back.
“This slave would totally be super happy to be her new Mistress’ throne, Master.” Their slave whispered, weakly.
A soft blush bloomed on Sweet’s cheeks at her new slave’s words. “You won’t disappoint me. I’ll train you hard to make sure of that,” Sweet Orange said, cupping her slave’s glowing cheeks with her own forehoof. Together they left the slave pens, obviously intent on spending the rest of the night breaking in their new slave.
‘I-is that what I m-might become? I-if I let this spell take over me?’ Twilight thought. Her pussy leaked anew legs wobbled beneath her. She had never known such desire fear. ‘No, this is no time to be a fraidy-cat, Twilight. Your friends need you!’ She steeled her resolve, ‘I need to get closer if I’m going to study this curse.’ She gulped as she looked down at the slave pens below, ‘I’m going to have to blend in. I need a better disguise.’ She thought, quickly. ‘Yeah, I’m going to have to find myself a collar and leash.’ She absentmindedly ran a forehoof across her bare neck.
It didn’t even occur to her that a mask would have been a much better idea.
Author's Notes
Owned art vectors used: Pet Dashie by Grumblepuck, Falling Chain by Freedomthai

Excerpt from the Collar Coding for Newbies booklet
By the Head of the Cum Dump Club, Lyra Heartstrings
Lyra's Final Draft Version 22.21b Mark 7
Welcome to Clocktower Equestria East! As part of your welcome to our Society, it is important for both doms and subs to get to the low-down on the collar, strap and safety-bell coding system we use here at our site. It might sound kind of dry, but trust me, collar coding will get you wet in no time.
By the way, this booklet was written especially for use at our home here at Clocktower Equestria East. As such it only refers to submissive mares like me.
As you probably already know, a collar is a symbol of ownership for the dom, a symbol of belonging for the sub. What it means may differ from pony to pony. However, here at Clocktower, we operate on one important rule - Your safeword is law. That means consent is everything. The Clocktower collar issued to all subs is a symbol of consent. As long as it is worn, the sub implicitly gives her consent until she utters her safeword or uses her safety bell (More on this in the booklet titled ‘Safe Word and Safety Bell Introduction’).
Subs in play must keep their collar on at all times while they are in any of the public areas. No collar, no play, no fun, no exceptions. So if you want to get laid, keep your collar on, subs! In addition to being your ticket to in to the action, the collar is also a safety measure. All collars are equipped with a unique magical tracking signal. If a collar is taken outside the site perimeter, guards will be alerted to check up on the wearer.
Apart from its role in safety, Clocktower collars are also designed to ensure your experience at Clocktower is as immersive and seamless as possible. As you may have noticed, here at Clocktower we maintain one big roleplay - that of a large scale slave training dungeon. We work really hard to maintain that roleplay. While some doms and subs prefer meeting up and planning their session in the tea shop or safe word rooms beforehoof, some desire the exciting realism of a spontaneous dungeon encounter. As you can imagine, asking everypony for their fetishes and consent can kinda dampen the mood and atmosphere we're striving for. On the other hoof, you want to make sure your partner shares your tastes in kinks and, more importantly, consent to what you have planned. Don't worry, we got you covered. All Clocktower collars, straps and safety-bells code for the sub's ownership status, sexual orientation and fetishes.
By the way, for those dominants who struggle with remembering the coding or have trouble making out the details in the dungeon's low light conditions, fear not, your masks are enchanted to decode for you at will. For more information on this, please read the info booklet on masks.
Note: Due to popular demand, it has been made permissible to make modifications to the standard Clocktower collar or even produce personal collars, as long as they fulfill Clocktower safety standards and adhere to the colour coding guidance below.
The Collar
All standard issue Clocktower collars are made to rigorous safety standards. They are all safely and comfortably padded on the inside and equipped with a reinforced central channel to protect the windpipe (and allow the more adventurous deepthroaters like me plenty of room). They also come with standardized emergency quick-release catches that all members are required to be able to operate comfortably.
Base Colour
Let us start with the base colours of each collar. These code for the submissive’s ownership status.
Red Collars
Red collars are worn by submissives belonging to no specific dominant and are uninterested in seeking a permanent owner. These submissives by default belong to Clocktower Society. They prefer brief commitments with short term masters and mistresses.
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White Collars
White collars, otherwise known as 'collars of consideration', are worn by submissives who do not yet belong to a specific dominant and are interested in a more permanent relationship. These submissives belong to Clocktower Society until they enter a more permanent agreement with a dominant.
Note: Of interest, it is becoming increasingly common for some submissives to subtly court dominants by switching from red to white collars.
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Black Collars
Black collars, otherwise known as 'training collars', are worn by submissives who have entered into a more long term probationary relationship with a dominant.
Note: Also of interest, the offering of black collars is becoming an increasingly common form of Clocktower courtship and has been observed in both directions, from submissive to dominant and vice versa.
Adamantite Crystal Collars
As you may know, adamantite is the strongest naturally-occurring gem in the world, and makes for the perfect material to symbolize the permanent ownership agreement some partners choose to enter. The offering and acceptance of an adamantite collar, otherwise known as an 'eternity collar', is a commitment many society members consider on par with marriage and is not something to be taken lightly. It is no coincidence that those in adamantite collar relationships also happen to be married outside Clocktower. There have even been a number of ‘crystal collaring marriage ceremonies’ held in Clocktower.
Studs
Studs on the collar signify whether or not the submissive is interested in ‘free use’ (‘Free use’ here referring to a slave being available for free use by any random member of the society). A collar with no studs means the submissive is not interested in and does not consent to free use.
Silver Crystal Studs
Silver studded collars signifies that the submissive gives implicit consent to free use. For black, white or adamantite collared submissives who are accompanied by their owner, it is generally good manners to first ask their owner for permission.
Ruby Crystal studs
Ruby crystal-studded collars signifies that the submissive is interested in play with random strangers as long as consent is sought first. A nod or a safe-bell ring is normally sufficient consent.
Colour Border
Many collars will have a colour border - a band of colour along the upper and lower fourth. These code for sexual orientation. Lack of a colour border means the submissive has no preference, i.e. they are bisexual.
Dark Blue Border
Signifies heterosexual submissives.
Dark Purple Border
Signifies homosexual submissives.
Note: Historically, Clocktower Equestria East had a green lower border for transformed subs - stallions who had been transformed into mares, commonly those who use the Transformation Center’s services. This was removed in 1001 after it was unanimously agreed the coding had no real significance.
Colour Band
This refers to the single band of colour that runs along the center of a collar. These code for the sort of roleplay the sub is keen on. Lack of a colour band codes for a sub who will roleplay simple willingness.
Orange Band
A sub with an orange band will roleplay unwillingness and resistance and seek a dom prepared to force them into submission.
Gold Band
A sub with a gold band desire to be petted and cared for by gentle, loving doms.
Purple Band
Subs with a purple bands are prepared to be objectified, abused and firmly trained by a strict, impassionate dom.
Collar Padlock
Collar padlocks double as property tags and symbolize ownership. They also bear the submissive’s Clocktower registration number. Most if not all submissives carry the key to their own padlock in a small latched recess in the back of the padlock, often considered a powerful symbol of willing servitude. There are two general types - Clocktower padlocks and personal padlocks.
Clocktower Padlocks
These are shaped after the Clocktower insignia and signify the wearer to be a property of Clocktower Society.
Personal Padlocks
These are normally worn by submissives who have entered an ownership agreement with a dominant. They are fashioned after the owner’s cutie mark. If the dominant has chosen to rename their submissive, said name is often inscribed on the padlock tag. If a submissive belongs to more than one pony, e.g. pets belonging to married couples, they may have a padlock bearing more than one cutie-mark.
While these are more commonly used with black and adamantite collars, they are sometimes worn on white collars by subs entering a prospective arrangement with a new dom.
Job Collars
As an aside, a number of subs serve a variety of specific occupational roles around the society. More info can be found in the guide on 'Life In the Society'. We'll touch on them briefly with regards to their specific collars.
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Keeper Maids
Part of the Society Maid Service, the biggest bunch of nosy busybodies second longest-serving organization within the society, these subs have unique white frills on the upper and lower border of their collars. They can also be easily identified by their really cute navy blue maid uniforms. Keeper maids are the backbone of the society, maintaining the day-to-day upkeep of Clocktower Equestria East. They are big group, boasting maids for every possible need. These include the housekeeper maids who operate the self-cleaning spells and run the spa and shops and the repairmaids who maintain the training equipment and the semen processing plant that supplies the feed for all Clocktower sites across the world. You will see the ones being rewarded for exemplary behaviour assigned to the more 'delicate' cleaning duty in places like the cum dump halls.
Keeper maids are employed in full-time or part-time paid jobs and are not allowed to actively partake in personal naughty activities during work hours. While they are (mostly) good girls who would never dream of playing hooky, they are protected from being used by the general public during work hours by custom-made chastity belts. Their collar padlocks glow red during work hours, making it clear when they are off-limits. As soon as their shift ends, their padlock will helpfully glow green for a brief moment and let out a loud beep as their chastity belts automatically unlock, signalling to all doms in the area that the maid is up for grabs.
A good many keeper maids live permanently on site in the servants' quarters.
Slave-Keeper Maids
Slave-keeper maids are members of the Society Maid Service charged with the care of subs belonging to Clocktower. They are tasked with feeding them, putting them on display in the pens or setting them up in the public cum dumps, toilets or other public facilities for use, washing them after use and making sure they are carefully and comfortably stored away in the kennels for rest. Senior-keeper maids generally take turns at fulfilling this duty. They can easily be identified by their dark crimson dresses and collar frills.
Hoof Maids
While these ponies are classified as members of the society maid service, their work is entirely voluntary and unpaid. They can be identified by the black frills on their collars and their black maid uniforms. They are generally personal maids to specific owners.
Slave-Trainer Maids
A cross between the slave-keepers and hoof-maids, these are slave-keepers who serve one specific owner. They are charged with the care of their owner's prized slaves and assist in their training. They wear dark mauve uniforms and collar frills.
Hearthswarmer Shrine Maidens
As you're probably aware, Clocktower Society was born from the original Kindler cult faith that worshipped the Fire of Devotion, more commonly known outside the society as the Fire of Friendship. While embracing the religion hasn't been a requirement to join in over 1000 years, there are still many who maintain the original faith, fanatics ponies who refer to themselves as 'Kindlers'. Hearthswarmer shrine maidens are those who worship the Fire of Devotion through preaching your ears off submission and devotion. They are considered holy and sacred by the Kindler church and absolutely bucking annoying by everypony else. You can easily identify them by their really big heads the golden halo-shaped blinkers built into their collars, made to shield their eyes from the brilliance of the Fire of Devotion that burns in the original Hearthswarming Cave deep beneath Clocktower Equestria East. They also wear long flowing shrine maiden uniforms.
Test Subjects
If you have ever been inside an adult toy store, browsed for contraception at your chemist, seen your obstetrician or sexual health doctor or even visited your local blacksmith or siege factory, you'd probably have encountered a product of Clocktower Research Laboratories. There's more info on them in the 'Life at Clocktower' booklet but, in short, this geeky lot actually date back 1000 years to the days of the astronomer, mage and scientist purge that followed the banishment of Nightmare Moon. Many of those persecuted as lunatics in the years immediately following the Nightmare rebellion sought protection from the Society. In return they have worked tirelessly in service to the society and its ideals when they're not blowing up half the dungeons. Today they boast the society's second largest source of income and hold patents for many modern conveniences we enjoy, including contraception, sexual health potions, advancements in obstetric surgery, fertility assistance and safe child delivery, pretty much all sex toys ever devised by ponykind, pits full of freaky tentacle plants, portals, sex bots, napalm and moon rockets.
The crazy brave subs who volunteer to assist in the research laboratories as test subjects can be identified by their hazard pattern borders and the fact that most of them glow green in the dark. They're all sex-bots. The rumours that they are all sex robots built by the scientists down there is entirely unfounded. Okay, maybe only most of them are.
MILF Milk Mares
It's like they intentionally misspelled MILF there. They're a bunch of MILF and MILF-wannabes who get off on being milked for milk and cum. What? What else is there to say about them? The milk mares are a group of subs devoted to the production of the best quality mare milk and marecum commonly used for slave feed as they are or mixed in with other ingredients in the various feed formulas. Clocktower Equestria East's impressive production volume helps feed our sister site at Equestria West and our neighbour sites in Gryphonia, Zebrica and Saddle Arabia.
They can be identified by their special bell-shaped padlocks (these can still bear the Clocktower brand or be engraved with their owner's cutie-mark).
Brothel Slaves
The society maintains its own internal currency with a strict no-exchange-with-real-cash policy (basically, monopoly money) to allow for various fantasies to play out more realistically. However because of the sheer size of Clocktower Society (we kinda cover the whole world map), the toy cash has gone on to develop a whole toy economy. The Brothel is the biggest bunch of money-grubbing sons-of-llamas internal money-maker and has long since become the unofficial banking and trading hub within Clocktower Equestria East and between the other sites.
The brothel slaves are a bunch of system-gaming greedy sluts group of like-minded subs who devote themselves not only to their masters but the pursuit of their master's profit and wealth They get off on being bought and sold like cauliflowers. They are one of the society's most exchanged commodities only second behind contraception and are a common staple at the markets and auction blocks. They do not, in fact, have an official collar code, though the Society is working to change that. They generally identify themselves by their frilly dark gray saddles.
Livestock Seriously, that's what they call themselves
I don't even have to write anything here because somepony's just gonna cross it out and edit in something politically correct. This group caters to the predator-prey fetishists, commonly involving changeling, gryphon, diamond dog and dragon society members, as well as ponies who have undergone magical transformation into various predators including timberwolves. Play ranges from hunts in the old forest to taming in the barns.
Livestock can be easily identified by their unique red halters built into their collars, with or without bit gags.
Safety Bell
The Safety Bell is more thoroughly covered in the booklet on safe words and safe-bells, but in short it is an alternative to the three safe words that can prove particularly useful when a submissive cannot use her safe words for whatever reason, for example if her mouth is gagged. It is tied to a ribbon and worn around the end of a submissive’s tail. It is magically enchanted to only ring when willed by its wearer. To reiterate, the safe bell must always be available for the submissive’s use. While binding dock-rings to collars to hold the tail up is permitted, the binding of the rest of the tail in a manner that might restrict use of the safe-bell is not permitted.
Like the collar, it is also colour-coded. They code for the levels of the dungeon the submissive is permitted to use. As described in the facility guide, all Clocktower dungeons are split into levels. Deeper levels house more extreme kinks and fetishes and require higher levels of access permission for both dominants and submissives. Silver bells allow access to the top level, gold bells allow access to the lower levels and crystal bells allow access to the deep levels.
Hoof Straps
Also called ‘hoof cuffs’, these are accessories to the collar worn on the hooves and thighs. They are normally colour-matched to their collars. All Clocktower-issue straps are custom-made and enchanted to support double the weight of the pony they were made for. They are also comfortably padded and fitted with reinforced channels to protect blood vessels and nerves. As they are custom-made for safety purposes, it is against the rules to share/exchange straps between submissives.
While being a Clocktower member implies one has a fetish for BDSM, there are numerous niche kinks that ponies may be partial to. While not strictly mandatory, many submissives, especially red and white collared ones, wear badges on their hoof straps to advertise what kinks and fetishes they are open to/interested in. This helps guide dominants identify the right submissive to indulge in a particular kink, or to plan the perfect session to cater to the submissive’s tastes.
An entirely cosmetic silver version of each badge can be earned by completing the act in the public dungeons. A similarly cosmetic gold version can be earned by completing challenges specific to the kink. A crystal version is held by the top ten record holders in each kink. Guess who's held a crystal cum dump badge the longest, ever?
You can find a complete list of available badges in the glossary.
Note: It has become culturally acceptable for dominants to give their submissives a kink badge as an invitation to try out a new kink together. The submissive would then clasp the badge to their straps as a sign of acceptance. It is also becoming increasingly common for fellow submissives to exchange badges and try out each other’s kinks.

Twilight let out a sigh of relief as she slipped out of the restroom. She had done what she can to clean out the effects of the evil spell with soap, water and a lot of tenacity. The fact that it was powerful enough to affect even her only strengthened her resolve to dispel its nefarious grip.
She had barely taken one step out when she spotted five ponies in royal night guard armour walk by. She quickly dove back into the restroom, pressing herself into the wall. She willed her pounding heart to quieten down as she heard the guards trot by. ‘Even the guards are under its spell. Just how far does this magic go?’ Twilight peered out of the restroom. ‘I didn’t notice any guards patrolling earlier. Could they be tightening security? Did they realize they gave that visitor badge to the wrong pony?’ Twilight cursed her luck as she slipped out. ‘I need to change disguises, fast.’
She hurriedly retraced her steps to the main hall, now considerably emptier that the main bulk of the crowd had come and gone. There were still a few stragglers, all making a beeline for the grand staircase at one end of the hall. A surprisingly user-friendly sign marking it as the entrance to the upper dungeon levels made sure nopony could possibly miss it.
Another group of guards trotted into the hall at that exact moment. Twilight gave a soft ‘eeep’ as she dove in behind the stragglers, keeping her ears and tail low as she willed herself to blend in with the crowd. Her hooves trembled as she took her first step down into the dungeons, looking over her withers all the while. Thankfully the guards didn’t follow her down. But it also meant Twilight could go nowhere but down.
A draft blew through her mane as she descended the long flight of stone stairs. ‘That cavern must be quite massive.’ Twilight thought as the stairs levelled out into a high-vaulted hall carved into a cave. The opulent design from upstairs continued all the way down to the hall, stopping abruptly at a massive gateway. The gates were flanked by a pair of statues of collared mares holding lit braziers high above their heads. Beyond the gates the lush carpet and marble-collonaded walls suddenly gave way to the rough stonework and torch lighting she recognized from the slave pens. ‘Slaves must be collared beyond this point’ a sign by the gate warned.
She bit her lip as she looked around. To one side of the hall was a circular stone doorway styled into giant collar. Twilight didn’t even need the sign engraved on its lintel to know it was the entrance to the ‘Collaring Chambers’. At least whoever built this place had a sense of humour. ‘Time to find my disguise.’ She absentmindedly ran a forehoof across her bare neck again as she followed a pair of mares inside.
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She was greeted by a bizarre cross between a castle armoury and a fancy fashion boutique. It was a long gallery of well-lit display cabinets, each bearing a wide selection of collars and matching hoof straps. Various ensembles of saddles, bridles, dock rings and other items were displayed on mannequins dotted about the gallery. Further down the hall was a tall, circular machine that looked much like a printing press. A burst of steam billowed from the press as a masked unicorn mare operated the device. She levitated something out of the cloud of steam, her lips curling into a smile of satisfaction. A quick shake dissipated the smoke, revealing a pair of padlocks shaped like her own cutie-mark - three cream buttersnaps. The mare hummed cheerfully as she carefully laid the pair of padlocks on a silk pillow alongside two shiny black collars.
‘What is that?’ Twilight frowned. She had studied the details of the collars the mares wore in the slave pens to better understand the significance of their differences in colour and styling. Most of the mares in the slave pens wore either red or white collars and had uniform clock-shaped padlocks. She didn’t see any black collars or cutie-mark-shaped padlocks. There was probably some meaning behind the colours and padlocks, something she’d have to work out if she was going to wear one as a disguise.
Twilight crept into the shadow of a mannequin and watched the masked unicorn mare closely as she trotted off past the padlock machine. She vaguely recognized the creamy-yellow unicorn, a certain Sweet Biscuit, one of Canterlot’s more humble and charitable noblefillies. The honey-gold-maned young mare was notorious for being so sweetly innocent and oblivious that Canterlot Mane Street was paved with the broken hearts of her many friend-zoned suitors. The unicorn floated her silk pillow bearing her items, humming cheerfully all the while as she went on her way. Twilight followed quietly until the mare slipped inside one of many reinforced doors lining the rest of the hall, one helpfully labelled ‘Collaring Chamber 12 - Occupied’.
Sweet Biscuit had accidentally left a small crack in the door. It wasn’t enough to peep through, but it was enough for Twilight to cast a complex light refraction spell to give herself a ‘window’ into the room. She felt like a peeping tom as her ‘window’ magically shimmered into being in the air before her. ‘It’s necessary,’ she told herself, steeling her resolve.
The magical window revealed a room lavishly decorated to look like a very luxurious Saddle Arabian seraglio, complete with a throne of silk pillows and airy windows overlooking an oasis. Twilight frowned at that, considering she was certain they were several floors underground. That was when the backdrop blurred ever so briefly, revealing it all to be a spatial simulation spell, one so good it was able to recreate smell, sound and palpable objects.
Sweet Biscuit didn’t seem all that surprised by the simulation, her attention directed more towards the two entangled figures lying on the lush carpet. “I just can’t leave you two alone for even a second, can I?” Sweet Biscuit sighed, shaking her head as she removed her mask.
“Oh, umm...” One of the figures, a brilliant opal pegasus with a silver and candy pink mane, peeled her lips off the other’s to give Sweet Biscuit a meek smile, leaving a glistening string of saliva between the two. “We, um, know you like watching…” She began with a demure blush.
“...your cute little slaves get each other hot and wet for you, mistress.” The other pegasus mare finished her sentence as she licked up the string of saliva saucily. She was the other’s mirror image, save her silky indigo fur, arctic blue and silver mane and impish grin. Twilight vaguely recognized the two writhing entangled forms as the stellarly popular cheerleaders for Cloudsdale and the Wonderbolts, the pegasus twins Lilac Sky and Spring Step.
‘Th-they’re twin sisters and y-yet they’re…’ Twilight’s nethers twitched with barely suppressed heat stomach churned at the thought of such openly shameless incest.
“Oh, you two are simply incorrigible,” Sweet Biscuit gave a fond huff, “But certainly lovable, cuddle-able, mayhaps even...hmmm...fuckable,” she licked her lips in what she probably thought was a foxy way, but her entirely innocent face was only able to achieve adorable clumsiness at best.
“Mistress is so wonderfully cute…” Spring whispered, bashfully.
“...When she tries to talk dirty,” Lilac giggled.
“I-I wasn’t…” Sweet Biscuit faltered, blushing sweetly all the while, “I-I see you two got busy modifying the simulator while I was gone,” she subtly changed topics, looking over at the throne of silk pillows.
“Only the best throne for our beloved Mistress…” Lilac began.
“...For her to rest her tired hooves, if that’s alright with you,” Spring nodded shyly, “Mistress has been walking her charity rounds all around Manehattan…”
“...Instead of taking her perfectly good carriage,” Lilac added with a disapproving look, “Wearing out her poor little hoofsies, again,”
“You don’t have to join in with everypony treating me like glass. I’m not seven anymore. I have four perfectly good hooves I can walk o-...wh-whoah!” Sweet Biscuit was so busy pouting she barely saw the sudden lunging tackle from the twins, bowling her into her throne of pillows. She landed on her back in the throne’s soft embrace, her hooves kicking at the air helplessly.
“Even when Mistress was only seven, she’d walk about Canterlot without her servants,” Spring whispered, lovingly nuzzling one of her mistress’ rear hooves.
“Just like that day she found two hungry homeless foals,” Lilac sighed, kissing the other rear hoof, “The little filly took the twins home with her, fed them, washed them, sheltered them, sent them to flight school…”
“Such a good, loving mommy,” Spring whispered, playfully blowing on the underside of her mistress’ hoof.
“Wh-who are you referring to as ‘mommy’? I-I’m o-only t-two years older than you two!” Sweet Biscuit blew her bright red cheeks up angrily.
“Um, well, if you don’t want to be our mommy…” Spring said.
“...Then you can be our Mistress instead, Mistress,” Lilac chuckled, licking her lips hungrily.
Sweet Biscuit fell silent at this. Her big, emerald eyes travelled down to the collars and padlock resting on the pillow. “This is really quite a significant step. Are you two sure?”
“Mistress, you promised you’d claim us,” Lilac gave a tired huff.
“...Once we turn nineteen and we still want it,” Spring nodded, “And we really still do.”
“We’ve been stuck with our white collars forever because of all your fuss about rushing things,” Lilac muttered, grumpily, “Besides, you’re treating these black training collars as if they were as big a deal as eternity collars,” She nodded down at the waiting collars.
“Um, which you’ve also promised us in three years, by the way,” Spring added, helpfully.
“Gee, I wonder how much fuss there’d be when it’s time for the eternity collars?” Lilac huffed.
So they’re ‘training collars’, some sort of step up from the white collars?’ Twilight thought, ‘Tree Hugger had a white collar, and the Oranges spoke of claiming her. Does that involve switching to these black collars?’ She resolved to continue spying in case the mares drop more valuable information.
“O-only because you two’ve b-been ever so pushy…” Sweet Biscuit muttered, blushing even deeper, “I’m...just as i-impatient as you two, you know. B-But I don’t want you two rushing into this when you’re so young, especially if you feel beholden to me or something or....” She blurted out frantically.
“Spoken like a real old hen,” Lilac giggled.
“Am noooot!” Sweet cried.
“Mistress is ever so adorable…” Spring joined in the teasing.
“Noooo!” Sweet denied.
“...When she’s flustered.” Lilac agreed with a grin.
“Muuu, stop teasing meee!” Sweet Biscuit wailed.
“We want this, Mistress,” Lilac whispered, “More than anything in the world,”
“We want to be yours,” Spring agreed with surprising assertiveness for the normally meek mare, “Forever and ever,”
“So please, make your little slaves yours and your own,” they chorused, sitting back on their haunches together to reveal the taut elastic cords hanging between the clover clamps clasped tightly on the roots of their nipples and clits. The clamps were still hanging loose, though with enough pressure to force their soft flesh to swell into tenderly engorged little nubs. The elastic cords hung taut between their two nubile bodies, swinging and bouncing as they threatened to pull on the clover clamps, tightening their grip on their waiting clits and nipples. And in the centre of each cord was a single attachment ring inviting imaginative ways to pull the clover clamps even tighter.
“Your slaves beg you,” The twins pleaded as one, putting on their best puppy dog eyes as they offered their mistress a silver tray. Upon it were two soft rubber ball gags and, the real clincher, a pair of riding crops - One lilac, one turquoise, each emblazoned with her slaves’ names. “Take us.” They bowed their heads in submission.
The sight was all too much for Sweet Biscuit. It was as if a switch suddenly clicked within the normally sweet mare. A ferocious lust suddenly lit up in her eyes as her lips curled into a cruel little smile.
Twilight felt a shiver at the sudden transformation in the seemingly compassionate mare. ‘C-could this be the spell at work?’ She gulped, watching closer, her nose almost touching her magical window. ‘I-I need to observe closer. I-I might learn something about the spell!’
The twins’ faces brightened up as their mistress dual-wielded the two whips in her magic with a flourish. They gulped as they watched the unicorn slowly, teasingly lick the head of the crops, no doubt intending on making them sting twice as much with her saliva. “Hmm, I may be convinced to make you both mine and mine alone. But I will have you two give yourselves to me.” She caressed their cheeks with the whips, leaving a little trail of drool on their fur, sending shivers up both their spines. “All of yourselves. Every. Little. Bit.” She punctuated each word by circling the wet crop around each of their exquisitely sensitive nipples and finally their clit, forcing helpless moans and whimpers from her little slaves. “Until you’ve given everything you are, body and soul. And then I will take my sweet time slowly enjoying my new toys.” The twins panted, hanging onto every word with ravenous desire.
“But seeing as you’ve asked ever so nicely, I feel a little generosity is warranted. You may choose how you’ll give yourselves to me,” Sweet Biscuit’s smile turned a few degrees more sadistic, “Shall we see how your discipline training’s coming along and have you two orgasm five times to breast and pussy spanking alone? Or shall we test your endurance training with ten forced orgasms each? Or perhaps we may finally complete your hoofing training and have you two impale yourselves to the hilt?”
The twins were trembling from mane to tail, their faces a picture of not only fear but also excitement. “P-please, M-mistress, i-impalement,” the twins barely managed to squeak, seemingly unified in their thoughts.
“Hmm,” Sweet Biscuit licked her lips, her horn glowing brighter as she pulled a set of chains down from the ceiling. The twins flinched with fright and thrill at the clinking of the chains above them. “Before I put your mouths to work, tell me, my little slaves, why did you choose impalement?” The mistress asked casually as she picked up the ball gags, licking and suckling on them as if they were ripe passionfruit.
The twins gulped hungrily at the sight of their Mistress’ drool glistening upon the ball gags that would soon be inserted into their own mouths. “U-um, b-because that i-is the option that w-would allow us t-to pleasure mistress the most,” Spring managed, “Th-this slave wants to massage Mistress’ tired hooves with her p-pleasure sleeve,” the meek little pegasus squeaked bashfully, “Nothing can make this slave happier!” No heartstrings were spared.
“What?” Lilac asked, noticing her mistress looking to her to complete her sister’s sentence, “This slave has nothing to add. She kinda stole my thunder.” She nodded at her twin.
“Then put your mouths to use,” Sweet Biscuit ordered, lounging back luxuriously on her throne of pillows, resting her rear legs with the hooves pointed at the ceiling like waiting pikes, “You have to the count of sixty to prepare your stakes.” The twins practically lunged at their mistress, throwing their forehooves around her rear legs in a desperate embrace. They remembered their manners, kissing her hooftips deeply and lovingly in a show of devotion. They wasted little time in cupping her hooves with their lips, licking and drooling all over her soft, marshmallowy hoofsies. “Mmmm,” Sweet Biscuit sighed with delight, her hooftips curling pleasurably. The obvious satisfaction on her face spurred her little slaves onwards.
Twilight gave a soft gasp as she realized what was about to happen. She suppressed a whimper, one she assured herself was a whimper of sympathy, not lust. She was certainly not becoming wet as she and Rarity lay side by side, diligently drooling and licking their own instrument of torment in preparation to give themselves to their Master, like prisoners drawing their own rack in a show of disciplined obedience. She slowly peered up around her impalement stake, her heart fluttering at the sight of her Master smiling proudly at her obedience as he curled his forehooves around her head, pressing her mouth firmly into her task. She’d redouble her efforts, making a show of gasping and panting in desire, sounds that would no doubt please her Master as she...
The alicorn princess gasped in shock. The evil spell was taking over her mind again! She shook herself clear of the sinful cobwebs, turning her attention back to the screen.
A set of hoof straps magically floated up behind the busy twins. The sisters wordlessly offered their forehooves to their Mistress while spreading their thights apart, all without pausing even a moment in their licking. “Good girls,” Sweet Biscuit said, petting their manes approvingly as the hoof straps locked themselves about all four of their hooves as well as their thighs. “So good in fact that you’ve earned yourself a little help.” Sweet Biscuit floated over a pair of squeeze-bottles labelled ‘Clocktower Research Laboratories Marecum-Based Lubricant Formula - Fresh as the day it was milked’. The sisters wasted no time in opening their mouths wide and sticking their tongues out. The unicorn grasped their manes tight with her forehooves and tilted their heads up. Their thirsty groans were quickly quenched by the bottle’s contents squirting across their lips and tongues. The thick, rich liquid quickly pooled in their eager mouths and dribbled down their chins.
“Suckle,” Sweet Biscuit ordered. The two pegasi craned their necks up to their respective bottles and suckled as their Mistress squeezed the rest of the contents, inflating their fuzzy cheeks to full. “Now, finish up your preparations. No spilling,” Sweet said. The sisters nodded, somehow managing to seal their lips around Sweet Biscuit’s hooftips as they began to lather her soft fur with lube.
Sweet Biscuit sighed pleasurably at the feel of warm lube being rubbed into her velvety fur by the soft loving licks of her two devoted slaves. Her face was filled with not only pride in how well her training showed in their performance, but also joy at their show of unconditional love. She gave them one last loving mane-ruffle, drawing soft moans from the two, before clasping the ceiling chains around their forehoof straps.
The sisters gave squeaks of disappointment as the chains suddenly tightened, pulling them away from the hooves they so craved. They were drawn upright, suspended by their strapped forehooves, revealing their tight little bodies, adorable round pony tummies and their clamped nipples and clit. The elastic cords joining their constricted tender nubs swung and bounced, drawing loud moans from their victims. The sisters balanced with their rearhooves planted wide on the floor, their butts barely brushing the ground. Before them lay their watching Mistress on her throne of pillows as well as their waiting impalement stakes, glistening brightly with drool and lube. The twins whimpered, their thighs rubbing together impatiently, their lust dripping down onto the floor.
“Now, um, before we go on, please test your safety bells, girls,” Sweet Biscuit’s face softened, her compassionate motherly look returning all of a sudden. Twilight frowned at the sudden change. ‘Is the spell’s hold weakening? Is she going to stop this?’
The sisters gave a little nod as they swished and flicked their tails, ringing the bells tied to the ends once.
“Good, I trust you two shall use it when you must,” Sweet Biscuit said, her malicious smile suddenly returning with a vengeance as she floated up the two soft rubber ball gags. “Because you will not be using your mouths anymore anytime soon,” She gave the two a sharp thwack on their rumps with her whips, forcing them to open their mouths to let out beautiful little moans. She took her time, rubbing the rubber balls into their tongues luxuriously. The twins gasped and mewled at the feeling of her magic tingling across their tongue and lips. “I will not be un-gagging either of you again, other than to use your mouths,” She warned, “Any last words as unowned mares? Speak now, or forever hold your peace~”
The sisters moaned longingly at her declaration as they realized their time as free mares would be ending imminently. Their swollen pussies winked hungrily as a fresh wave of lust dripped and dribbled down to the floor between their fidgeting rearhooves. “We’re yours, Mistress, forever,” the two declared vehemently before closing their eyes in acceptance of their fate and opening their mouths wide to receive their gags.
Sweet Biscuit shivered at their unflinching declaration. “I would have you two no other way, my lovely little slaves,” she pressed the ball gags into their waiting mouths, allowing them one last moan before she secured their straps firmly. “Now, prepare to take your vows,” she ordered, whipping them off the ground.
The two pegasi slowly pulled themselves up onto their rearhooves by their chains. Together they took a slow but brave step forwards. They shuddered, moaning into their gags as their sopping pussies brushed against the the two mighty obelisks that would soon rob them of their freedom. They slowly spread their thighs apart in an effort to accommodate the instrument of their imminent enslavement. They were forced to pull themselves up further to position their leaking cunnies over their impalement stakes, wings fluttering as they balanced on their tippy-hoofsies. The teetered there, trembling as they looked to their Mistress to give them the final command.
“Take it slow. You may orgasm at will. I want your bodies to remember every inch you surrender,” Sweet Biscuit whispered, floating their prize into position on either side of her throne - a pair of Clocktower collaring blocks with recesses for their necks where their black training collars lay open and waiting to receive them. “When you feel you’ve earned it, you may rest your necks upon your collaring block.” The twins trembled as their Mistress ran the tips of her whips along their noticeably bare necks. “Now, show me your desire.”
The pegasi sisters whimpered as they slowly relaxed their rearhooves, lowering themselves down. They shuddered as their tender, swollen pussy petals slowly stretched apart around their mistress’ hooftips. Their quivering thighs spread apart wider to accommodate the incredible girth of the first inch invading their nethers. They shared the barest of glances before, as one, they grinded their cunnies into her fur, forcing their tight foalhoals to begin the long, slow process of stretching around her broad hoof. They moaned loudly into their gags on the first knead, small rivulets of marecum leaking out around the tight seal of their cunnies.
“That’s one,” Sweet Biscuit smiled, levitating a paintbrush dipped in red ink and painting the first tally mark on their quivering rumps. The gesture only encouraged the sisters to work rut themselves further into their Mistress’ hooves, panting and moaning as they worked through their first orgasm. “Well done. Here’s your reward, a little encouragement,” Sweet Biscuit smiled at the panting, moaning wrecks that were her slaves. She levitated over a tray full of assorted hooked weights. She gave the weights and appraising look before selecting a worryingly hefty one. The two mares looked on in wide-eyed horror as the weight floated over slowly but surely towards the attachment ringing in the elastic cords joining their heaving bodies. It hooked itself into the cord joining their closest nipples, causing it to swing and bounce more violently as it tugged on the clover clamps. The pegasi tensed up, arching their lithe little backs as the bouncing grip on their poor abused nipple forced their orgasms to peak once more with a vengeance.
“Oh, you two look simply adorable,” Sweet Biscuit sighed as she watched their cute, tight little bodies writhe in uncontrollable pleasure. “I cannot think of anything better to masturbate to, can you?” She slowly rubbed a forehoof into her own winking nethers.
“Mmmmf!” The twins cried weakly in protest.
“Oh, you don’t want me to do this?” Sweet Biscuit teased, rubbing her hoof deeper into her sopping pussy, spreading her tender folds around her hooftip. “You don’t want me keeping up with you?”
“Mmmf!” The sisters shook their heads vehemently.
“Oh, do you two want to be the ones to pleasure your Mistress to earth-shaking, mind-blowing orgasm?” Sweet Biscuit taunted, raising their chins to look into her eyes with the tips of her floating whips. “Have me unleash you to rut your Mistress into the ground? Force me to feed you my cum?” She licked her lips with relish. The twins nodded all the more vigorously as each question drove them to rut themselves further and further onto her Mistress’ fuckpoles.
“Hmm, then we’ll see if you can beat my forehoof to it,” their mistress grinned slyly. That gave the two pegasi the push they needed to squeeze the widest part of their Mistress’ hoof past their tight folds. They gave a loud cry as two more inches suddenly slid into their spasming love tunnels with ease now that they had cleared the widest point. Their helpless little bodies tensed up with another mind-shattering orgasm as the flare of their Mistress’ hoof lodged itself deep inside them, their young foalholes trapping them in with their tightness.
Sweet Biscuit groaned pleasurably as her slaves’ hot, tight insides massaged her hooves through their violent orgasm. “That’s two,” she panted, tallying their rumps. “Hmm, I like that number. Two adorably fuckable slaves, two loving little hearts, two orgasms, two weights,” she licked her lips as she selected two more weights from her tray, “Do these look the same weight to you, my little slaves?” She asked, showing her panting and gasping mares two clearly mismatched weights, both very uncomfortable-looking sizes. Her slaves could barely whimper in fear midway through their trembling orgasms. “I suppose we can find out by trial and error.” Their mistress said, hooking one weight on the other nipple cord, sending the cord and its clamps into a rocking jig, drawing a prolonged wave of forced pleasure from her poor helpless slaves. “Oh, am I running out of places for your rewards?” She gasped in mock worry. Her through their tears of pleasure. But they knew there was only one unused attachment point left. They braced themselves as they pushed their pussies forwards and offered their clits up to their Mistress, along with their last unused elastic cord.
“Oh, thank you. You two are ever so helpful,” Sweet Biscuit petted their swollen clits gratefully with the tips of her floating whips, sending shivers up their rumps. Their mistress hooked the largest weight on the cord joining their clit clamps. The sisters moaned as she cruelly pulled down on the cord until it was stretched taut, tugging their clover clamps tighter. The release came all too sudden. The cord bounced and danced, taking their poor abused clits on a merry jig. The slaves threw their heads back in a scream of bliss, their powerless pleasure-wracked bodies spasming in yet another forced climax.
“And that’s three,” Sweet Biscuit smiled, tallying their rumps and selecting new weights even as her slaves shook against their tense chains as unchecked euphoria tore rampant through their tortured bodies.
She hummed sweetly as she skillfully drew out their peak upon her rack of pleasure, adding another weight, then another. Each climax triggered their mating instincts to breed with the mighty phallusses lodged deep in their foalholes, intent on impaling their bodies upon their Mistress with the promise of being filled with foals. The two young mares were powerless to resist their true calling as their Mistress' pleasure slaves. Their bodies would not stop until their holes were filled to the brim, until they were well and truly bred, until they were slaves to the fuckstick in their tight little cunnies.
“Four……..five…….eight...ten...” Their orgasms had merged into one long stretch of unstoppable bliss. Twilight had lost count. It didn’t matter. She and her fellow slave had given in. Their forced euphoria allowed them only one imperative - to fuck themselves silly upon their Master’s impalement stick. Who was her fellow slave? Rarity? Was that Rarity next to her, rocking her body upon her fuckpole in helpless euphoria? And who was their Master? It was somepony special, somepony she loved, somepony she and Rarity would give their whole selves to.
Yes.
That’s it.
Give herself to the one she loved. Give herself to him and only him.
With that wonderful, beautiful, joyful singular purpose, Twilight drove herself down the rest of her enslavement pole. She felt the sword fill her to the hilt, its pommel striking her stretched and swollen pussy petals. It touched something deep inside her, something that now belonged to her Master. She heard herself scream into her gag in an orgasm on top of an orgasm, something beyond mere bodily pleasure, something she felt in her mind and soul. It was giving, submission, devotion.
Twilight felt whatever it was suspending her forehooves loosen. Her weak, trembling body fell limply forwards. She felt something soft and warm, something that felt like the velvety touch of fur, catch and cradle her shivering body. She had never felt so comfortable, so safe. Whatever it was slowly lowered her forwards, allowing her neck to come to rest upon something silken and soft. She felt a sense of profound joy as her mind weakly recognized it as the padding of her new collar. She was resting with her neck upon the collaring block, ready to finally be collared and claimed. She felt a warm tickle of magic as the collar’s wide straps curled around her neck snugly, holding her firm in its embrace. Then there was a click of finality.
Twilight gave a soft gasp, her eyes fluttering open in panic. She found herself curled up on the floor, her forehooves hot and sticky. She gave a little whimper as she looked down, slowly spreading her thighs to free her trapped forehooves. She gasped at the mess. She was just lamenting the state of her ruined tail when she felt her forehoof caress her neck, as if searching for something that wasn’t there.
She felt a soft sniffle rise.
The poor little pony suddenly felt very confused. Why did she feel a pang of sadness? Why did the tingling warmth in her nethers suddenly grow cold? Why did she suddenly feel so...so lonely?
She gazed up at the viewing window still shimmering in the air before her. It was beginning to fade. Something had sapped all its magic. That was odd, considering how much magic she had poured into it.
Didn’t something similar happen to the tower viewer in the viewing galleries earlier?
Her mind froze. That odd, lonely feeling returned with bloody vengeance. She gazed through the viewing window at the warm sight. Their gags and clamps released, the twins had curled up into little balls, pressing themselves into their Mistress’ sides. And Sweet Biscuit seemed happy and content to lay there, cuddling them both protectively as they rested peacefully. “Good night, my little angels,” she whispered, kissing them both lovingly on their foreheads. The two responded by nuzzling into her sides, pulling her into a tight hug. Sweet Biscuit gave a helpless squeak as their ursa-like grips forced all the air out of her lungs.
Twilight bit her lip as she willed the viewing window away. She grunted as she rolled onto her hooves, doing her best to ignore the cold sticky feeling between her thighs. ‘Focus, Twilight! The spell’s winning! You can’t let it! You’re an alicorn princess, a protector of Equestria!’ She chastised herself. She growled angrily at herself as she looked about the thankfully still deserted corridor. She decided she was lucky she wasn’t found while she was locked in the evil spell’s influence.
‘I need to hurry and find my disguise,’ she reaffirmed her objectives, ‘Find the source of this madness, stop it, or, failing that, escape and notify the other princesses,’ she nodded to herself as she stormed away back to the main collar room. She wasted no time in throwing open a display cabinet and pulling out a plain black collar, exactly like the one the twins had received. At the very least that little episode had told her which collar to disguise herself with. Nopony would bother her if they thought she had an owner.
‘Owned slaves have cutie-mark-shaped padlocks,’ she reminded herself of the other little tidbit of information she had learned. She strode over to the padlock printing press. A magical control-screen glowed to life as she approached. It was thankfully a very user-friendly magical operating system. Twilight quickly found herself on a screen asking her to either imprint her own cutie-mark or select an existing one from the library of existing imprints.
She frowned at that. She was quite certain slaves couldn’t belong to themselves, which left her with selecting an existing registered cutie-mark at random. Just as she was wondering whose cutie-mark would be safe to use, one particular cutie-mark leapt out at her. It was perfect. She was sure this particular pony would never step hoof in such a dreadful place.
There was the loud thunk of metal being hammered into shape. Steam burst forth from the machine as it completed its task. Twilight smiled triumphantly as she pulled the newly forged padlock out of the cloud of steam.
She quickly slipped the collar around her neck, feeling a little shiver run up her spine as it locked in place with a resounding click. The newly-fashioned padlock hung proudly at its centre, a silver-engraved electrocardiogram pattern.
Feeling a sense of renewed purpose, she quickly threw on the rest of her disguise - matching hoof straps, one of those tail bells, even a halter and a saddle. She felt a sense of vindictive glee with each item she strapped on, as if she was finally achieving something against the ‘evil spell’.
She did not even pause to wonder why this particular cutie-mark was imprinted in the machine.
Twilight trotted up to the gates. ‘Slaves must be collared beyond this point,’ the warning by the door reminded her. She ran her forehoof along her neck, this time feeling the reassuring touch of her new collar against her hoof. Yes, now she was ready.
She took her first step into the shadows beyond the gates. She felt a chill run over her fur as she traveled deeper into the darkness of the dungeons.
She emerged onto a broad stone foyer. It was dimly lit by a strange lilac glow from above. The edge of the foyer was lined by a carved railing that overlooked a chasm. Twilight trotted over and, hooking her forehooves over the railing, peered over the edge. She gave a teeny gasp. Below, hugging the chasm slope and sprawling out onto the cavern floor, was an entire city of halls and chambers, all interconnected by stone walkways. Her breath caught as she realized she was looking down at the Dungeon Levels of Clocktower.
Feeling a little lightheaded at the sight, she looked up in search of sky, the stars, a touch of familiarity.
That was when a little squeak died in her throat.
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There was no sky, no stars, only the chasm wall stretching up into the darkness, curling together into a cavern ceiling hidden away in the lofty shadows. Behind her, the city stretched from where she stood up the chasm walls towards the ceiling. 'Those must be the main floor and upper levels,' she thought as she faintly recognized the viewing galleries she had gazed down from earlier. The upper floors ended in the silent red-eyed cyclops that was the Clocktower. Twilight realized they must have built the mighty clock tower across the entire cavern wall, such that it could be seen from both outside and inside.
But what really took her breath away was what hovered in the air high above the tower’s peak.
It was a gigantic flame, glowing a furious reddish purple in the darkness. From the right angle, one could almost see a shape in the shadow of its flames - it was shaped like a heart.
It was the Fire of Devotion itself.
Twilight felt faint from the sudden revelation - She was inside the original Hearthswarming Cave.

Managing Liquid Assets in a Range-Bound Market
by Lady Upper Crust
Head Cortegiana of the Clocktower Society Brothel
Welcome to Clocktower Society. At the risk of self-promoting, you will not receive a warmer welcome to our society outside the Clocktower Brothel. You are more than welcome to visit us here at the Bordello where you can experience Clocktower economics at work in the flesh. Our skilled cortegianas are more than happy to give you a free demonstration of how liquid assets flow around our tight supply and demand curves at Clocktower.
Or you can read this pamphlet first, if that’s more your fetish.
Let us start with the official spiel. Clocktower Society operates its own internal monetary currency. The currency is only valid as fiscal tender inside the society. It is strictly prohibited to exchange it with any currency, products or services outside the society. This is strictly policed and proven violations will earn offenders a ‘strike’ towards a permanent ban from the society. This is done mainly to help protect society members from actual prostitution, whether direct or indirect. To put it simply, ‘real’ prostitution cannot occur if the pretend money cannot be freely exchanged for ‘real’ money.
Plus, it’d be really, really awkward trying to explain our currency outside the society, let alone use it. I would pay to see it happen, if only for the sheer comedy value. And I never pay.
Because the currency only circulates inside Clocktower, it is effectively pretend money. That begs the question, why bother with a currency at all? Why, because money is a form of ‘power’, and fulfilling fantasies of power exchange is one of Clocktower Society’s main aims. It is used mainly to fulfill the common fantasies of slave-trading, auctioning, prostitution, even objectification in the form of pay-to-use public facilities. But through constant use over time, the ‘pretend money’ has gone on to develop a ‘pretend economy’ within the society. How that happened over time is a fascinating subject in itself, one my husband and I have written an entire book on (sold separately).
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The Currency
Now, let us begin with the currency itself. It has three denominations - Tallies, lashes and brands. Tallies are the lowest denomination. Five tallies make a lash and five lashes make a brand. What distinguishes our currency from more conventional ones is the lack of coins or notes used as legal tender. The ‘coin purse’, so to speak’, is the slave’s body and the ‘coins’ are magically-charged marks upon their fur.
Is saving money starting to sound like fun yet?
Paying, Dearly
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The marks are applied and removed using an all-purpose horseshoe-like instrument called a master phaser. It is best described as a magical pen marker that produces an intense arcane spark that leaves magically-charged marks on fur. The scientists at CTRL have accused me of comparing a moon rocket to a cock, but that tells you everything you need to know about their idea of fun.
I prefer cock myself.
All dominants receive one at induction, a phaser that is, not cock (that's optional). Payment is made by transferring marks from the payer’s slave to the payee’s slave. Tallies are given by simply running the phaser’s spark along the submissive pelt much like how you might draw with a pen marker. Lashes are applied by spanking/whipping the submissive’s fur using the phaser spark. And brands are given by pressing the phaser firmly into the submissive’s hide for a full five seconds. The marks are removed by flipping the ‘erase’ switch on the phaser and stroking stroking the phaser against the mark much as you would use an eraser. The eraser function draws the magical charge into the phaser, storing it until it is used to make a payment. There is no other way to recharge the phaser, making the magical charge itself the actual currency.
No, the spark does not enlarge penises. You're doing that by yourself.
You’re probably wondering, ‘are the marks painful?’. The answer is ‘it’s up to you’, interestingly. Our endless supply of consent fanatics made it clear pain play had to be optional as far as the currency’s concerned. So the master phaser was designed with something the nerds call a ‘neuropath feedback modulator’, or ‘pain and pleasure dial’ in plain Equestrian. The dominant can conveniently decide how pleasurable or painful the mark will be, with settings ranging from ‘Fucked silly’ through to ‘Pain in the ass’.
You can tell it was designed by a geek.
By the way, shouting ‘Set phasers to fucked silly’ is a sure way to get you thrown out of the brothel. Via catapult. I mean it.
It's a very big catapult.
It is interesting to note that the phasers have been around for so long that a semblance of social norms has developed around them, an entire topic unto itself. It is most important to know that it is considered polite, mayhaps even symbolic of a healthy relationship, for the dom to offer the phaser to the sub for her to adjust the pain and pleasure dial for the dom.
Would you believe that the ridiculous levels of convenience doesn’t end there? The magical charge does not leave any permanent markings and they very conveniently become invisible upon leaving the site. It is perhaps one of the few products of CTRL that actually functions phenomenally well without blowing half the dungeons up. Though the fact that this began as an attempt to create invisible sex toys says everything you need to know about our scientist friends.
I hear the prototypes are still missing, though if you are ever brave enough to venture down to CTRL you may hear the disembodied sex toys buzzing away in the background.
Buying and Selling, or Why Being Rich is a Pain
There are two ways transactions can occur. Either the payer removes the mark from the payer’s own slave and then applies it to the payee’s slave, or, more commonly, the payee removes the mark from the payer’s slave and then applies it to the payee’s own slave. Most dominants prefer the latter method especially when exchanging cash with strangers.
It's always more satisfying to put the coins in the piggy bank yourself.
Especially when it squeals back.
Dominants who do not yet own a personal submissive can maintain a limited amount of savings on their master phaser, comparable to those who do not own enough spare change for a wallet. They also have the option of depositing their savings at the brothel using the services of our treasury slaves who would be more than happy to assist with all your society banking needs. We’ll even throw in a free smile.
Please come. Your investments are always welcome. We offer lots of interest. We accept credit and anal.
Now that you know how our currency works, you can imagine how this can make it difficult if not impossible to try and exchange it outside the society. The awkwardness notwithstanding, the fact that it requires both a dominant and a submissive to hold and use the currency acts as a secondary layer of security.
Besides, try spending anything at all when you're married to your pursestrings. My husband has had to learn that the hard way.
Spending Your Currency (Or Do the Smart Thing and Save it at the Brothel)
I find it superfluous advising ponies on how they can spend their money. Ponies seem to have no problems doing that all by themselves. But for completeness’ sake, society cash can be spent on a wide variety of things. They can be used to purchase slaves at the market or bid for them at the auction house (mostly on temporary ownership contracts, though there have been a few roleplayed permanent purchases). They can also be used to hire the services of one of the maid service’s keepers or make a donation to the Kindler church while you use one of their maidens to worship with. And they can also be used to tip the many free public facilities the society operates such as the cum dumpsters if you’re feeling generous.
You can also use it to purchase many care products and services to pamper your slaves, such as the more tasty feed formulas, a glorious cum bath and thorough care at the slave spa, some of the newer toys from CTRL, etc.
But when all’s said and done, you will not get better value for money or better quality customer service outside the Brothel. We are always on hoof with our army of treasury slaves to take good care of your money...and you. For a limited time only, we are offering a free throatfuck for every new customer.
Please visit. We are always open for business. We swallow.
Earning Currency AKA Keeping Your Piggy Bank Happy
Many argue that trying to earn society currency is pointless, considering there is little that it can buy that cannot be acquired for free at the society. I disagree. You can always deposit them with us. The look on the treasury slaves’ faces when you make a deposit is well worth it, trust me. But to do that, you need to earn extra cash. There are plenty of ways to do this.
Donations
The society is a non-profit organization run by members for members (some argue it is also there to keep the Fire of Devotion burning to make sure Equestria doesn’t freeze overnight, but you’ll hear enough on that in the pamphlet from the Kindler Church). Considering the two Equestrian branches alone serves 5% of Equestria’s population (that’s 5% of Equestria’s 320 million ponies - 16 million ponies, with anything between half a million to a million of them visiting Clocktower Equestria East each day), the upkeep cost is similar to that of a medium-sized town. As you can tell from the heavy presence of royal guards, we are solidly backed by the government. However, even state funding can only go so far, and a large amount of the society’s expenses is paid through our (shockingly cheap) membership fees, revenue from CTRL’s sales and patents, income from the society’s many other organizations and clubs and, most importantly, your donations.
The society repays generosity in kind. You receive one lash for every monetary donation of any value you make to the society. You are limited to a maximum of one donation a week. This is to ensure donations cannot be abused as a method of purchasing society currency
The Brothel
We pride ourselves on being one of the Society’s oldest institutions, pedalling ponykind’s oldest profession and supplying Equestria's most open market. We are always hiring quality sluts to staff our bordello. We are also always on the lookout for willing treasury slaves to help us bear the burden of wealth.
Volunteer Work
As mentioned, the society is run by members for members. As such it requires members to run. While there are a few full time paid positions, most of the posts are filled by volunteers. Volunteer work comes with perks, obviously, mainly in the form of either wages or a salary paid in society currency. You can browse available volunteer jobs on the main hall’s bulletin board or our society newspaper, the Daily Stocks. The work and job requirements will depend on who your employer is. Clocktower Society itself mainly employs administrators and guards, the Research Laboratories are always in need of test subjects and researchers, the Maid Service are always seeking housekeepers, shopkeepers, waitresses, chefs and repairponies and the MILF Milk Mares need their milk. No matter what your background, there is work for you at Clocktower.
Except the Kindler Church. They never pay. They still owe me money.
Trade
Slave trading has always been and will probably continue to be the biggest driver behind Clocktower’s internal economy. Generally speaking, only temporary ownership contracts can be bought and sold at the regular market and auction house. There is however is a weekly ‘roleplay’ auction and market days where submissives can list themselves to be sold on permanent contracts to specific buyers.
The market price for slaves mainly depends on how long the ownership contract is. A few factors can increase a slave’s market price, from reputation to the badges they hold. Those who hold crystal badges, i.e. the record holders in any specific fetish, generally fetch higher prices.
Inflation has its benefits.
If you ever feel like simply visiting the markets to do a little window shopping, the market place and auction house have a very generous ‘test drive’ policy where you can try before you buy. Don’t worry, the shopkeepers always have slaves ready to clean up the mess.
Please remember that all ownership contracts are subject to Clocktower rules, especially the safe words. Both owner and slave are free to terminate the contract at any time by invoking the safe word with no penalty.
Author's Notes
Owned art vectors used: Pet Dashie by Grumblepuck

Author's Note:
Please read the content warnings carefully.
Starring : Button’s mom, Love Tap
Also featuring : Button’s dad, High Score and Sugar Belle
Contains : Lactation, milking, sex machines, cum inflation, impregnation, womb penetration (while this is obviously harmful for humans, it is actually physiologically normal for equines and required for them to achieve successful breeding), and womb fucking (I have no idea if this is physiological for equines or not, but I'm going to go ahead and fetishize it anyway because I can)
So Clocktower Society's bigger than just Twilight's little escapade, obviously. There's stuff going on all over the place, lots of little stories to tell. 'Clocktower Scenes' will explore the little nooks and crannies of Clocktower Society, pick up on scenes that won't be covered in the main story, essentially provide more facets to the whole.
Or, y'know, it's just an excuse to write shameless fetish clop. Shameless MILF milking fetish clop.
This is part 1. Part 2 will follow in a few hours once I've finished going over it.
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There is a certain rhythm to the Milking Chamber's background noise. There is always the gentle hum and thick throbbing of the many milking and fucking machines, the sloshing of fresh milk and marecum, and of course the happy moans and cries of its livestock. It was all familiar to Love Tap. And by Celestia, she was in desperate need of familiarity.
She felt her milk maid tug on her bridle, urging her forwards. She felt the usual little flutter as she allowed herself to be led down the rows of milking stalls. She idly eyed a young cerise unicorn mare in one of the maximum-intensity milking stalls, one of the regulars, Sugar Belle. She wore a crystal badge, marking her out to be one of the Milk Mares' record-holders for max-intensity milking. And it certainly showed. The young mare's tight little body was secured in a padded iron stockade built for comfort in endurance exercises. Her rear hooves were spread impossibly wide, her twitching and curling hooftips strapped to an adjustable spreader bar set to maximum. This allowed space for her highly intricate milk and marecum milking machine, one custom-built by CTRL just for her, a privilege afforded only for regulars.
High-energy suction cups were strapped around her thin waist, their rubber seals engulfing her boobs. Inside the glass cups, her poor tender teats were gripped tightly by a pistoning metal claw. Each thrust of the claw stretched her nipples taut, forcing out her milk in torrents that was quickly sucked up by the cup's powerful vacuum. A powerful magical discharge crackled from the claw, running through the nipples down the teats and into the arcane electrodes in the seal of the cups, forcibly shocking her abused glands into producing even more milk.
In between the suction cups was a large glass vacuum seal that engulfed her pussy. Within the seal her pussy lips, puffy and engorged with all the vacuuming, were pulled wide open by elastic clamps secured to the vacuum's seal ring. It was necessary, as there was no other way she'd accommodate the beast inside the vacuum, a monster of rubber, with thick vicious ribs spiraling along its side like a drill bit. The heavy industrial milking machine spun the cruelly tapered dildo as it penetrated deep and firm into her leaking pussy, stretching her obscenely with each thrust. Every tug and spin milked her drenched cunt of its precious marecum.
"Well done, pet," Sugar Belle's assigned milk maid gave the slave an encouraging caress on her cheek as she cried into her abused bit gag, her body tensing in another marecum-producing climax. The machine's pussy-milker whined as it went into overdrive on detecting the fresh wave of marecum, drawing out the poor slave's orgasm like the cruel heartless machine it was. A magical crystal display next to the machine ticked her orgasm counter from 19 to 20. Her marecum flow per minute rose exponentially as her milk pumping rate chugged along at a steady pace. Urine contamination read 0.
"I think it's time for feeding again," the milk maid said, removing the saliva-drenched gag from poor mare's panting mouth, letting it hang around her neck. It was quickly replaced by realistic rubber horsecock mounted on a device that looked much like a water dispenser, if water dispensers had cocks instead of taps and a bottle labelled 'CTRL Milk Mare Feed Formula 9 - for richer, creamier milk' instead of water. Sugar Belle moaned hungrily, opening her mouth eagerly for her feeding. "Eat up, pet," the maid ordered, easing the cock into her mouth. Sugar Belle lapped up the cock between her lips, suckling eagerly all the while. The maid turned a dial on the machine, warming the feed to a temperature just above pony body temperature to make it as hot as the real thing, before turning on the flow. Sugar Belle moaned pleasurably as her tongue was flooded with the thick, rich feed she so craved.
The rest of the high intensity stalls had mares in varying states of being drained of milk and marecum. Love Tap glanced at one earth pony mare being mounted by her farmer. The mare cried into her gag, her orgasm counter ticking and cum flow rate spiking as the stallion thrusted into her plot in one firm thrust. The other mares being fed from troughs looked up to watch briefly before returning to lapping up their feed. Love Tap felt a touch of longing at the sight of a pegasus mare being fed straight from the tap by her farmer. The mare gurgled and suckled greedily as her farmer thrusted his member deep inside her throat. The farmer gave a triumphant growl as he clasped his forehooves around her mane, holding her in place as he fed her directly into her stomach.
"Good girl. You did well today," Love Tap's milk maid said as she led the slave into an adjoining room containing the milk mare cages, "I expect you'll be top of the charts again. Now, get some rest for an hour before dinner. The head farmer's booked a breast and pussy massage for you for after. I'm sure you're going to need it." She opened up a cage labelled with her slave serial number, LT-0101. Love Tap allowed her halter and bit gag to be removed by her milk maid before obediently crawling into her cage. She slid under her blanket and curled up on the familiar pile of cushions. She let out a little sigh as her milk maid's hoofsteps disappeared in the distance.
"That was a long sigh," a voice said from the cage next to her's.
Love Tap's ears perked up. She lifted her head from her forehooves to look around at her neighbouring cage, one that had been empty since forever. "Velvet?" She felt a little smile play across her lips at the sight of her friend, Twilight Velvet. "What's a CTRL test subject doing here? Did you roll a critical fail on your navigation check?"
"Geek," the beautiful white unicorn slave giggled from where she lay tied up with her rearhooves spread and secured to the upper corners of her cage.
"Pot talking smack about kettle," Love Tap blew a raspberry.
"If you must know, I'm testing Master's new feed formula aimed at increasing milking production," Velvet said.
"Is it working?"
"I dunno. It's a double blind trial so I'm probably receiving placebo feed. Likely Master's own cum put through a replicator vat. He probably thinks I couldn't tell his cum apart from everypony else's." Velvet shrugged as much as she could with her forehooves secured above her head. "Now, what's troubling you, kid?" Velvet frowned at the silence from her fellow mare. "You've been coming here more often. In fact, I hear you've been staying here for five days straight. I mean, I can smell you're in heat, but you've never done this even when the heat's hitting you bad, not since you had Button."
Love Tap grimaced as she realized why Velvet was there in the cage next to hers at all when she hadn't visited the milking chambers in over a year. The busybody mare must have come to check up on her friend. Unfortunately Twilight Velvet, while caring, had all the tactful subtlety of a rampaging hydra. "I'm alright, Velvet," Love Tap forced a little smile. It came out as a watery grimace.
"I'm about as likely to buy that as I am to buy anything from Upper Crust," Velvet said, flatly, "Something's eating you, girl friend. It's something at home isn't it? Is it your Master? Tell me and I'll go feed him to the lab's tentacle plants."
"N-no, i-it's not Master. P-please don't feed him to the tentacle plants," Love Tap squeaked.
"Fine. I didn't want the plants to get sick anyway," Velvet huffed, "You're not off the hook though. Neither is your Master. I don't care if he's away on business half the year, Neighpon's not too far away for me to go whoop his flank."
"There's no getting away from you, is there, Velvet?" Love Tap sighed.
"Well, no, you're in a cage," Velvet pointed out the obvious.
"Haha, funny," Love Tap giggled all the same at the lame joke, "It's Button. He received a scholarship to Crystal Prep." Her giggles faded away into a soft sniffle.
"Oh, the tragedy," Velvet said, sympathetically, "Let me guess, he left for school five days ago?"
"H-he's only 12. It's too soon," Love Tap bit her lip as a single tear dripped to the floor.
"Hun, what you got is grade A empty nest syndrome," Velvet said, smiling understandingly, "I've been there, twice. It's hard, looking at their empty rooms."
"H-He didn't even bring his Captain Equestria t-towel!" Love Tap sobbed, "O-oh Button..."
"Hey, you'll be alright, Lovey. You're a strong mare. Besides, now that you have time, why don't you join me at CTRL? I have some fun projects going on that could use some help. We could make a date of it! Or we could just fuck. I'm not picky." Velvet cajoled.
"I don't want to be fed to the tentacle plants..." Velvet sniffled, softly.
"Hmmm...." Velvet frowned, "Yes I know exactly what you need, kid!" She suddenly broke into a smile, freeing her hooves from her chains with ease that would make Hoofdini green with envy. She tapped her collar, snapping the quick-release catch open. She whipped a mask out of Luna-knows-where and slipped it on as she unlatched her cage and crawled out. "Rest well tonight. You're gonna need it."
Love Tap didn't even get to get a word in as the masked mare disappeared into the distance. "Um...." she finally managed, "I really don't want the tentacle plants...." she said.
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The next day....
Love Tap sat back on the pony pillow in front of her dresser as she finished drying off her freshly-showered mane and fur. While she quite enjoyed being pampered at the slave spa, she felt like she needed some time alone. She had tapped out and returned to her husband's private room in Clocktower's upper palace shortly after breakfast that morning before proceeding to hide in her room for the rest of the afternoon.
She idly wondered why she didn't simply go home, when she was quickly reminded of why. She felt a soft sob well up. "E-easy, Love Tap, you look ugly crying," she chided herself, grimacing at the vanity mirror in front of her. A sad, lonely earth pony mare stared morosely back at her. She shivered as she drew her fluffy bathrobe tighter about herself, as if seeking some sort of embrace from it. "Celestia, I look old," she sighed, stretching her cheeks experimentally, "I guess I am old. Kid boy's left for school. Life moving on....and...and the husband..." She hiccupped. Every word she uttered made her feel uglier, unwanted, undesired. Is this what it was like to grow old? Your children move away? Your husband's never home. When he does return all he'd find is this old lonely hag that was staring right back at her....
"This video game has a shit story!" She wailed.
"That's why you play multiplayer, player 1," a voice said.
Her heart leapt. She spun around in her seat. There, standing at her door, was a large sign that said 'Co-Op'. There also happened to be a gigantic bouquet of flowers that was about her size, but that was nothing compared to who was standing behind it. "Mind a new challenge-...oooof!" The flowers and sign went flying along with the dark gray unicorn stallion. "Aaaaarrgh! Gyaaargh! M-my sideeees! Agh! No, not the ribs! Not the ribs! Ow, that's a rib! Argh! That's a rib too! Aaaaargh! Blaaaaaaaaargh! Critical hit! Critical hit!" he gasped for breath as he struggled to pry off the earth pony grip threatening to crush him. "Aaaaagh-....oh, hello, Beautiful+20," he paused mid-scream, seemingly noticing her for the first time.
"H-High Score, y-you're back!" Love Tap screeched into his chest, "You dumb dumb! You idiot! Scrub! Noob!" She punctuated every word with a soft thump of her forehooves on his chest.
"Ow! Ah! It hurts! It HURTS! THE AGONY! THE SUFFERING! LoOooOoove TaaAAaaaAp!" He cried exaggeratedly under the pillowy pummeling of her marshmallowy hooves, "Not the collarbone! Totally not the faaAAaace! AaAAaah! My face! My face is made of PAIN! MY FACE IS PAIN!"
"G-get wrecked, f-filthy casual!" Love Tap panted, her pummeling slowly trailing off into weak booping before she allowed herself to collapse on top of him, feeling utterly drained. She sobbed, rubbing her tears into his chest.
He remained silent, wrapping running his forehooves through her mane comfortingly instead. Too tired to protest, she allowed him to gently lull her tears away in that special way only he could do. "H-how?" she finally sniffled, peering up at him with her muzzle still buried in his fur.
"Heheh, well, I wanted to be home on time to see Button off but the new game decided to glitch at launch," he rolled his eyes, "Just sorted it out late last night, at spear point from the boss. I was planning on taking the first airship back from Neighpon this afternoon, but Velvet got me the green light from the big boss to smuggle me back here through the teleportation hub at Clocktower Neighpon Oatsaka." He winced painfully at the memory. "I had to hide in a feed container. It wasn't empty. I think Velvet hates me. I wonder if it's because I kissed Night Light that one time we were having a foursome. I mean, he liked it. He tasted like blueberries. Or was that your cum in his mouth? Or maybe it was Velvet's cum in mine? Oh, I like your bathrobe, it reminds me of Princess Neigha's robes in Pone Wars."
Love Tap wasn't sure whether she wanted to kiss Velvet or toss her to her own pet tentacle plant. Then again, Velvet would probably enjoy both.
Love Tap gazed up at her beloved. Those confident eyes, that irksome grin, all the things he gave their son. "H-high Score, o-our baby, h-he's..." she sniffled before breaking down in tears.
"I know, I know." He sighed, petting her behind the ears comfortingly, "He's off on an epic quest of his own. Probably already scored a cute crystal pony filly on his first day. Hay, he's probably already forming a whole herd of crystal fillies. Just imagine them, sitting together under a tree, playing Hydra Hunter Four together...." High Score sighed, "Celestia, hope none of them steal the last hit from him. He'd go sprite-shit-crazy." He blanched at the thought.
Love Tap giggled through her tears. High Score always knew what to say to make her laugh, even when she was at her worst.
"Hay, honey, I'm sorry I wasn't there when he left. I'm proud of him, sure. But you know who I'm proud of most?" He asked, beaming brightly at her, "You, player 1. You raised him, got him there, stayed by his side when I couldn't." Her heart fluttered as he kissed her on her forehead. "And most of all? You stayed with me, even with my lousy job taking me to the end of the world." She soared as he kissed her nose. "No matter how hard this mode gets, you're always my continue button, player 1." He kissed her deeply on the lips. "" he said in a low, guttural alien language only ever spoken in the deepest, darkest reaches of PonStation-con.
She should probably have sobbed, cried, shouted, even screamed at him. But she couldn't, not at him, not when he'd always put all her missing pieces back where they belonged when it mattered. "" she replied in his tongue.
"Hay, do you want to go home?" He suddenly asked, petting her softly.
Love Tap's heart chilled once more with dread at the thought. She slowly shook her head. No, anything but go back to that empty place.
High Score hummed softly, petting her gently all the while. "Then tell me," he softly whispered in her ear, "What do you desire? Name it, and it's yours,"
Love Tap bit her lip. There was one thing she wanted more than anything. But it was silly, selfish, so...
"Go on, be selfish," he whispered, as if reading her thoughts, "Let me spoil you."
'How does he always know what to say?' She sighed inwardly. She gave in, allowing herself a little selfishness, to want to be wanted, to desire to be desired, to belong to belonging. High Score always knew best. She rolled over to rest her neck on her special collaring block - his broad, powerful thigh.
"Hmm," High Score hummed, slowly sitting up. Love Tap shivered as she felt his warm hoof run over her bare neck. "That's a good playtoy, remembering her place," he whispered, huskily, putting on his steamy dom face. His horn glowed, floating over her adamantite crystal eternity collar from its silk pillow. Love Tap gave a contented whine as the soft silk padding curled around her neck, fitting snugly against her fur. The padlock, emblazoned with a crowned musical note, hung against her chest with its familiar, reassuring weight.
She felt him roll her over fully onto her back on the floor. She lay there, reveling in the feeling of being completely at the mercy of the mighty stallion looming over her. He reached out, peeling back her bathrobe. She felt his eyes upon her bare fur, tracing the wide curves of her soft chest, her wide child-bearing hips down to her powerful earth pony thighs. She could see the desire in his eyes. His lustful gaze made her feel beautiful. His hungry touch made her feel desired. His sudden, deep kiss made her feel loved.
He continued mashing his lips against hers as he practically tore the bathrobe off her shoulders and tossed it aside, making it clear that she was going to remain bare for the rest of the night. She moaned as their lips finally parted to make way for her halter. She felt the familiar tingle of his magic tickle her face as as her halter fastened itself about her muzzle. Something soft wrapped itself snugly about her eyes. She closed her eyes, bowing her head obediently to allow him to secure both the halter and blindfold. His approving hum sent her heart aflutter once more. "I'll let you in on a little secret. I know I asked if you wanted to go home, but I want this too. In fact, I prepared a little surprise for you." Before she could reply, she felt his warm magic envelope her entire body, lifting her up bodily into the air. Straps curled and locked about her hooves, binding her legs together as she was laid across the familiar broadness of his back like a sack. "Now relax. I want you to save your strength for what I have prepared," He chuckled, "You're going to need it."
She couldn't help but feel a shiver of thrill run down her spine as he bore her helpless form on his powerful back with effortless ease downwards towards the dungeons.

Part 2 of Love Tap's little story. To reiterate, this chapter contains: Lactation, milking, sex machines, cum inflation, impregnation, womb penetration (while this is obviously harmful for humans, it is actually physiologically normal for equines and required for them to achieve successful breeding), and womb fucking
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"We're here!" High Score finally announced after what felt like an eternity of being carried up and down stairs. Love tap wasn't even sure where she was anymore. She had tried to keep track of the twists and turns but she quickly lost her way beyond the grand stairwell leading down to the dungeon levels. Love Tap blinked her eyes blearily as her blindfold was gently untied. She looked about, ears twitching curiously as she tried to take in her new surroundings.
It was a warm hexagonal room. The walls and ceiling were simple and clinical, but in that sleek modern way that made it look like one of those sophisticated space ship interiors she saw in the more newfangled video games. The lighting was easy on the eyes, not overly dim like most of the dungeons but not as harsh as CTRL's laboratories. A mysterious rig sat at its centre, surrounded by equipment trays and machinery. Half of it she recognized - it was her own milking machine custom made for her by CTRL. But her usual stockade and spreader bar were nowhere to be seen. In its place was a padded metal bench shaped almost like a hug-pillow, with support for a pony's entire upper torso, neck and head.
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She was certain of one thing, however. This was not the milking chambers. She could not hear the rhythmic throbbing of the milking pumps, neither did she hear any on her way in. This was somewhere entirely new, a part of the dungeon she had never been before. She felt a tingle of fear at the thought. But before it could take root, she felt her stallion lift her off his back and into his forehooves, cradling her in a protective princess-carry. She curled up, nuzzling her face against the crook of his neck, allowing his reassuring scent to lull her into a sense of profound calm.
He carried her over to the new bench. She braced herself for the touch of cold padding as he lowered her onto it. To her surprise the bench was warm. She quickly slid into place resting on her front, the bench's curves and angles fitting her so snugly she had no trouble finding how she was meant to fit into the alien device. It was as if it was made just for her....except for the jarringly large space it left for her belly. 'I might not be the slimmest mare, but I'm not that fat,' she thought, hotly.
She felt a tingle run down her spine at his firm touch manipulating her into place, strapping her hips and chest down onto the bench. She squeaked softly as he grasped her legs and spread them wide apart to either side, almost into the birthing position, before he anchored her rearhoof straps into recesses built into the bench legs. "Give me your forehooves," he ordered. She offered them to him between her legs, allowing him to strap them to her spread thighs.
Just as she was wondering what he was up to next, she felt his lips roughly kiss her left nipple. She gave a long, drawn out moan as he sank his teeth into the tender roots, suckling the rest of her engorged flesh into his merciless tongue-lashing. She cried out as she felt the tingle of his magic envelope her other nipple, ruthlessly tugging and stretching them. A wonderful warmth bloomed in her as she felt her body surrender its first squirt of milk into her stallion's hungry maw. She sighed with pure contentment at his growl of greedy appreciation, her creamy buttery taste only encouraging him to suck on her even rougher. "Yes, the excellent consistency of a well-used milk mare, a full refined taste rich with the thickest cream, its freshness a testament to her routine milking, perfect quality slave milk," he said, like a connoisseur appraising fine wine. She felt a fierce glow at his praise. "It flows well, production is good as it is, but I'll need to train you to produce even more for what I'm going to need," he said, cryptically. "But first, I'm going to make them mine," he said. She trembled at the fierce possessiveness in his voice. "Who do these belong to, toy?" He growled through his teeth into her abused nipple.
"T-they're yours, M-Master!" Love Tap cried as he spanked the soft mounds of her breasts, marking them as his with tender red hoofmarks. "Ah! Aahhn! M-Master!" She moaned as he laid claim to his property with smack after hard smack. "Mmmnhhh, M-Master!" She groaned as she felt him blow softly on her tender, swollen flesh, testing her for sensitivity. Seemingly satisfied that her tenderized breasts and nipples were sufficiently marked and oversensitive, she heard him turn to her milking machine. She hazily heard the familiar whir and click of the pump's nipple clamp priming, ready to imprison its target. She weakly pulled her restrained forehooves as far as their bonds would let them, using her hooves to knead and gather the mounds of her breasts together, squeezing them and offering her nipples up to her Master. "P-please, M-Master," she pleaded.
"That's a good toy," she couldn't help but flush brightly at the pride in his voice. She whimpered as the nipple clamps snapped shut around her over-sensitized teats, sending an electric tingle up her belly and into her chest. The rubber seals of the suction cups came next, their high-power vacuums quickly drawing the rest of her poor tenderized breasts into their maws, eliciting a sharp cry from her. That was where the similarities to Sugar Belle's milking machine ended. Her custom machine had massage roller-balls built into their rubber seals that tightened around the base of her breasts, ready to knead and churn more milk out of her very depths. The suction cup's exterior also deployed anchor clamps like a blooming flower consuming her mounds, each rubber pincer pinching tight into her soft flesh.
Sugar Belle is good. But she has never tried hard mode.
High Score was the gloating, chatty sort of dom. So it came as a surprise to Love Tap when he simply flipped the switch without any fanfare. She gave a loud cry as the machine came to life. The nipple-clamp pistons firmly tugged and thrusted on her sensitive flesh, pumping the first squirts of milk out. The roller balls followed through with a powerful push from the base of her breast all the way up, thrusting more milk out. Then the magical shockwave came from the clamps, pulsing and rippling down to meet their customized electrodes in her circle of anchor clamps, setting her strained milk glands into overdrive.
High Score was obviously impatient. Even as she cried out with every pump forcing more milk out of her, she hazily wondered what it was driving her stallion. She felt a touch of excitement at the unknown. She quickly found him trotting into her field of vision, his horn glowing bright, his magic levitating a glob of amorphous silver material in the air. It didn't take her long to recognize what it was - Arcanoplasteel, a highly malleable material able to be magically moulded into any form, shape and function, no matter how mechanically intricate. It was CTRL's (or, to be exact, Velvet's) latest invention, a material so expensive its price was measured per milligram. To use it effectively required a mind that could imagine an object down to its most minute schematic detail, every moving part, every interlocking machinery, every magic circuit. Otherwise it was no more than a very expensive play dough.
What scared Love Tap the most was the knowledge that her stallion had the exact kind of mind capable of making perfect use of arcanoplasteel.
"I thought you might want to start getting to know your new fellow toy as soon as possible," Love Tap shivered at his smile. The material began to elongate, forming a monster of a phallus. Deep ribs began to spiral along its surface, each covered with thick rounded protrusions like blunt spikes. Love Tap began to pant as she watched the phallus' main spine curve wickedly, allowing the ribs to spin around its central firm core. But what struck her the most was its tip. It wasn't tapered, neither was it a flare. It was a thick, rounded concavity like a clawed suction cup, its recess filled with rounded ribs like an orange squeezer. At the centre, much like an orange squeezer, was thick rounded protrusion. There was a click as the concavity curled together like the petals of a flower into bullet-like faring.
Love Tap's eyes widened with horror as she realized what it was meant for. High Score smiled at the realization dawning in her eyes. "This is something I learned from some company friends who frequent Clocktower Neighpon Oatsaka," he explained, "Neighpon has a bit of a population problem, you see. So their branch of CTRL is further along than ours at fertility enhancement methods. One of their favourite toys is this. It prepares a willing mare's womb for penetration. The willingness bit is important because the slightest shift will dislodge the device from its target, making it utterly useless." He lowered himself to look her in the eye. "Tell me, are you a willing mare, toy?"
She trembled from head to hooftip at the thought of having that monster inside her. Her pussy winked madly, her juices flowing down and staining her milking cups. She slowly craned her head up and gave the monster a tremulous kiss, sealing her fate. "P-please, p-prepare my w-womb, M-Master," she squeaked, trembling with both fear and excitement.
"Good toy." He whispered, giving her a quick peck on the forehead before disappearing behind her again. She heard the familiar click of the device being mounted on her pussy-milking machine. There was the nerve-wracking whir of the machine's telescopic arm approaching her pussy. She moaned softly as she used her bound forehooves to help spread her nether folds apart to accept her soon-to-be pussy wrecker. She gave a sharp cry as the pump's vacuum ring's pussy-spreaders were clamped onto her swollen labia lips, stretching her wide apart as the vacuum's seal ring secured itself over her cute little mound. There was the familiar whir of the servos driving the phallus' spin, the hiss of the pneumatics driving it into her. She felt a shiver as the ribs and rounded nubs pushed into her, stretching her already spread pussy lips. It pumped in a circular dance, grinding itself into her, thrusting deeper with each cycle, spreading her wider and wider around each spinning rib.
Her mewling quickly turned into ragged panting as the machine worked its way into her. She barely managed to hear her Master speak over her own laboured gasps. "Test your bell, toy," he said, making it clear he was about to use her mouth for something. She shivered with anticipation at the thought of her stallion having his way with her mouth as she obediently rang her tail bell. "Good," he said, satisfied, "Now let's feed you. You're going to need lots of feeding for what's ahead." She began to drool at the thought of being fed directly by her Master, a luxury she hasn't been able to indulge in forever. She gave a longing mewl as he re-emerged in front of her, his mighty stallionhood hanging low and hard out of its sheath. She felt a touch of pride at how hard she could make her stallion without even touching him. She parted her mouth as she felt the tickle of his magic pressing an extra-large soft rubber ring-gag against her lips, allowing him to spread her maw wide. The gag's strap snapped snugly into her halter, turning her mouth into his helpless cock sleeve.
She watched him mount a series of steps built into the front of the bench, obviously designed to allow easy feeding. She gulped hungrily as his mighty flare rose to eye-level. "Mmmh~" She moaned ravenously through her gag. She wasn't able to wait a moment longer. She stuck her tongue out through her ring gag, eager to lap up his cock into her maw. "Mmh~" She shivered as her tongue brushed the first drop of pre.
"You must be really hungry," he chuckled, reaching down with one forehoof to cup her chin, steadying her face, making it perfectly clear he was about to make love to her throat. "Go on, take it, all of it," he growled, thrusting his flare past the cock ring, gliding along her tongue straight towards the tight ring of her throat. His cock slowly grinded itself into the back of her mouth, a squeeze from the forehoof on her chin ordering her to prepare herself. She took a deep breath before giving him a flick of both ears, signalling her readiness. He gave a pleasurable cry as he pushed his flare into the impossibly tight and hot sleeve of her throat. She moaned pleasurably around his cock, massaging him with her tight throat as he began to thrust deeply and firmly. "Ahah! YeeEEeeEEsss! Hmmm!" She couldn't help but chuckle inwardly at how his dom face would always falter when he was really enjoying himself. She felt a fierce sense of pride and joy that her Master enjoyed using her throat so, a bliss deeper than the physical pleasure of having her throat stretched wide with cock. And she wouldn't have it any other way.
A twitch from her ears signalled him she was reaching the limit. "Oooh, buck, yes, you are the absolute best," he crowed, curling his other forehoof around her mane, effectively hugging her head with both front hooves as he eased back. She suckled and licked his tip, not allowing him to drop out of her mouth even as she panted around his cock for air. Regaining her breath, she gave him three flicks of both ears. "You are the best cock sleeve in all seven plains," he growled, seeing her signal begging him to fuck her throat like a pussy. He lowered the headrest, putting her neck in line with the rest of her body as he climbed further up the hoofsteps on the bench, placing his weight on her back, fully reverse-mounting her. She moaned at the feeling of her stallion covering her little body completely, feeling ever so safe and secure under his reassuring weight.
She heard the telltale tinkling of his magic and click of a switch. She gasped around his cock as she felt the pussy-milker's tip bloom inside her, spreading her innermost reaches wide around it. She whimpered out, her tight little body tensing up as the device grinded itself into the neck of her womb. She felt the device's cup grasp the entrance to her womb like a clawed plunger, tugging and stretching the exquisitely sensitive flesh with each thrust of the machine. Every tug and stretch forced the little mound to swell and soften more and more. She cried out as slowly the rounded protrusion at its centre began to knead itself into her puckered hole, teasing it apart.
She panted laboriously as she felt his cock wait impatiently at the back of her tongue. Her submissive instinct to serve her Master kicked in as she suckled him deep inside her. He met her efforts with his own, thrusting into the tight ring of her throat. "Ooooh, yyyyeeeEEeeeEEEeeEES filly!" He barked as he fucked her mouth and throat with deep, powerful thrusts. She was already on the edge with the milking, the pussy-pumping and the stretching of her womb opening. The first firm spreading of her throat, his cry of pleasure, was all she needed to lose herself in the earth-shattering bliss of being used by her Master. Her orgasmic scream milked his cock for all it was worth. "Oh Celestia, yes! This is beautiful! You're beautiful!" he fucked her pleasure sleeve with wild abandon like the sex toy she was. "Ah! LooOOooVE TAaaAAP!" He roared triumphantly as he painted her throat white with his sticky hot seed. Her own peak stretched out to an infinity of pleasure at the feeling of her belly being filled with his precious load. He withdrew just as her tummy was growing tense with the churning baby batter, coating her tongue with his seed. She moaned hard through her own orgasm, cupping her tongue and mouth as best as she could into a fitting dish for his precious seed.
He gave a loud, pleasurable moan as he finally withdrew his cock. His horn glowed as he wasted no time unclasping her ring gag from her tired maw. "Show me," he panted, climbing back down onto the floor in front of her to cup her chin in his forehoof once more. She moaned throatily, opening her mouth to show him the pool of seed she had collected, bathing her tongue with his rich masculine musk. "Oooh, good fillyyyy," he shuddered at the sight, aiming his cock back at her mouth to release the extra orgasmic echo she gave him with her saucy show. She moaned happily as the extra dollops of stallion cum filled her mouth, proud at her impressive feat of prolonging her stallion's orgasm without even touching him. "You may swallow it now," he ordered, massaging her neck encouragingly. She saw his receding cock twitch with excitement at her gulp.
"Th-thank you for f-feeding me, Master," she just about managed to rasp before she was suddenly silenced by a long, deep, loving kiss.
"Mmmh~" She spasmed against her bonds. The feel of her Master kissing her alone drew another hard orgasm from her tortured body. He held her mane and neck in a tight embrace, holding her lips to his all through her happiest orgasm yet. It felt like an eternity of bliss before they finally parted, leaving a little glistening rope of saliva joining their lips.
Her stallion smiled fondly at her, caressing her ears and mane gently. "Clockface," he suddenly invoked his safeword, much to her surprise. She gasped as she heard the emergency stop switches on her milk and pussy milking equipment clicking, freezing the devices in place. Then slowly, torturously, they receded and detached from her, leaving her to whimper as each piece of equipment disengaged. She was most surprised to feel him freeing her forehoof straps.
"A-Are you alright, hon?" Love Tap asked, looking up at her husband worriedly.
"Oh, I'm on top of the world, player 1!" High Score declared jovially, hugging her so tight he drew a muffled pony squee from his wife. "I want to tell you about something that happened three days ago. It's hidden-boss important, end-game important, finisher move important." he touched his forehead against hers, pressing the tips of their noses together tenderly as he gazed into her eyes with those youthful, boyish eyes of his. "This is totally random, like, platinum Ponymon card under the carpet random, but hear me out." He took a slow deep breath, "Dear, I won the lottery."
Love Tap gaped. That was nice and all, obviously, but to interrupt the best fuck she's had in forever for this?!
"Hey, hey, hey, don't give me that look," he chuckled, "Like, please, don't. It's scaring the hit points out of me. Uh, see, this went so much better in my head. Right, the deal is..." he trailed off into a soft squeak, "Love Tap, I'm quitting my job, moving back home with you to set up my own game firm and I want to have lots and lots and lots of foals with you!" He blurted out all in one breath.
Love Tap gaped. That was nice. That was beyond nice. Her lips moved, trying to form words, but she had no words for these. Her cheeks felt wet. She was crying. She cried like she had never cried before.
"L-Love Tap? Wa-was it something I said? I-I mean, i-it d-doesn't have to be lots of foals. I-I mean, I don't think th-that many f-foals would be able to share the joyboy anyway. M-maybe j-just one or mmhf mmhhff mhhf mhh....mmmmmmm..." His rambling was cut short by a sudden deep, passionate and tearful kiss.
"Lots," Love Tap paused the kiss just long enough to say before diving back in on his lips. "Lots and lots!" She said while pausing for air before kissing her stallion once more. "I want to give you lots and lots of foals!" She gasped with unbridled joy.
That morning she didn't know what it was she wanted. She thought the best part of her life was over, that all that was left were long and lonely days staring at her son's bedroom. It was old age. It was a long wait for the end.
But now...
Now she had everything! No, she wasn't replacing Button, not in the slightest. But she was adding more, and goodness knows her life still had plenty more room for more.
High Score hugged her wife tightly, pressing their muzzles together once more. "I swear you are the cheat codes to my life, player 1. Being this happy is hax," he panted, sharing in her tears of happiness. "Can I...can I start now? Right now? Have our foal, I mean?" He suddenly asked, sheepishly.
"Yes!" Love Tap didn't even hesitate as she squeaked with joy. "Yes, yes, High Score! Please!"
"Clockface." High Score's smile curled into a mischievous grin.
"C-Clockf-face." Love Tap echoed, shivering with excitement.
"I can smell you're in heat, toy," he whispered, quickly falling back into his roleplay, his horn lighting up. He floated over a potion vial containing a thick clear fluid. Love Tap quickly recognized it as her usual contraceptive potion. "But you won't be needing this," he said with undisguised glee as he unscrewed the vial and emptied its contents to the floor. Every drop sent Love Tap's heart beating faster and faster. "Because from now on, I'm making you my broodmare," he intoned as he pulled her forehooves down into the recesses built for them, strapping them in. Love Tap's very heart shivered at the sight of the master phaser he floated over to them. It already had a spark ready, shaped into the unmistakable form of a breeding mare's mark - A heart contained in a circle with his cutie-mark and her own at its centre, a single tally mark between them symbolizing their first foal. There was plenty, plenty of space for more. He held her tightly by her mane, gazing into her eyes as he floated the master phaser over to her right rump. "Look at me as I mark you as my own personal foalhole," he ordered, his grip on her mane not allowing her otherwise. She gazed up at him, willing him to see the sense of joy and belonging she felt. "You are going to bear me so many gorgeous foals, you beautiful little breeding bitch," he growled. She gave a loud cry as she felt the fierce glow of the phaser's spark sting her rump, making it clear to the world that she was his happily-bred mare.
He disappeared behind her once more. She moaned happily, shivering as she felt him kiss her fresh new brand lovingly. "By the way," he said as she suddenly felt him climb up behind her, "...I ordered this bench be custom made just for you just three days ago. That research lab mouse friend of yours got it built in record time. "It's a breeding rack, made just for you." She gasped as she realized what the large circular recess around her belly was for. It was to allow him space to fill her up with foals. "You will only have breaks for sleep, exercise and feeding. I will be feeding you lots and lots to get you ready for your foal." Love Tap's eyes wandered over to the equipment trays by the bench, her eyes widening as she realized their cabinets were stuffed full of special super-nutritious feed formula for breeding mares. "Other than that, you will spend every single day of your heat strapped to this breeding rack while I breed you again and again and again. You'll be bred with my cock most of the time. But we'll also have you use your mouth to milk a supply of my seed so we can reverse the polarity on the milking machine and have it pump you full of my foal batter when I'm taking breaks." She shivered as he planted his powerful hooves on the hoofrests to either side of her head. "And once you're well and truly bred with my foals, I'm still going to use this rack to feed you and remind you just who you're carrying those foals for." She felt his full weight engulf her back, his chin resting on her soft silky mane as he curled his forehooves around her own, his rearhooves straddling her soon-to-be inflated belly. She had never felt so thoroughly hugged, so safe and protected, than that very moment. "Are you ready for your insemination, foalhole?" He whispered in her ear.
"Y-yes, Master," she squeaked, "P-please, breed this slave! M-make me your broodmare!"
"Good filly," he growled. She cried as her sensitized pussy was abruptly forced apart by his mighty flare. He thrusted his stallionhood deep on the first thrust, ramming her right into the bench, testing its resilience. She was still screaming from the beastly mating when he pulled back and rammed her even deeper, rocking her along with the whole bench. She came around his cock, her tight cunny muscles tightening hard around their intruder. He cared not for her orgasm, pushing his length straight through her rippling muscles, working her right through her orgasm. "Aaahn! Aaaahhn! AAAAAHN!" The room was filled with her helpless cries, her body stretched taut by forced orgasm after forced orgasm. And still he pushed deeper until he struck the neck of her womb. He took his sweet time, grinding his flare against the already swollen and softened flesh, teasing apart the over-sensitized flesh. He ignored her fresh wave of orgasms as he pounded her final barrier with his spear. Then, with one powerful thrust, he spread her innermost sanctuary around his cock.
He panted as he finally slowed down his brutal pounding, his body turning still atop the twitching, spasming little body trapped beneath her. The powerful muscles of her womb pulsed about his cock in an orgasmic effort to convey non-existent seed to her waiting ovaries. It was almost too tight to move, but he managed. He moved slowly, carefully, tenderly, as he filled her womb with his flare. "Love Tap," he called her by name, "Kiss me."
Love Tap barely heard him in her pleasure and pain addled delirium. She weakly raised her head, curling it around to press her lips to his, coming and moaning softly into his mouth all the while. He held her in place as he made slow, firm love to her womb, moulding its tight confines to his cock. She came with each rhythmic thrust against the exquisitely sensitive walls of her womb. He took his time forging her womb into a receptacle for his cock and seed, all while kissing and whispering words of encouragement in her ears. Love Tap had already lost track of where one orgasm began and another ended. Her mind and heart were full of bliss and him, the two sometimes blurring together.
When he finally came, filling her tight womb with his hot precious seed, she lost herself in pure bliss, a happiness beyond physical pleasure, a joy beyond orgasms, knowing that she was marked, owned, loved. She lay there limply in paradise, her stallion reaching down to kiss her as he continued to pound her through his climax, filling her with more and more of his love. She vaguely registered her belly stretching around her filling womb, her fur tugging taut as her tummy fitted snugly into the breeding rack's inflation recess. Her stallion went on and on, filling her more and more until it became too much for the tight seal of her pussy around his stallionhood. The dam broke, allowing his seed to spurt out around his pounding cock. Only then when she was so well and truly filled she couldn't fit another drop did he finally relent. Slowly he pulled his mighty length out, allowing her womb finally close up to seal his gift deep inside her, at least until next time he or the machine bred her silly. She faintly registered the tingling of his magic on her pussy lips as he clamped her folds closed with what was no doubt a sealing clamp attached to a breeding mare's chastity belt, designed to keep all his cum trapped inside to ensure a successful breeding.
She faintly felt her restraints released, allowing her hooves to hang limply on the rack. With the barest hold on consciousness, she felt him pull her entire body against his into a tight embrace. "You're gonna be a great mom, again," He whispered, stroking her full belly, "And this time, you're going to teach me to be a good dad." She smiled at the thought as she finally slipped away into absolute bliss. "Good night, player 1."

Twilight sat in the shadows behind a stone pillar, waiting as the patrol trotted past. There were seven of them then. They seemed calm for ponies searching for an intruder. They were even chatting among themselves about their plans for after work, something about bed-warmers for their barracks. Either they were sloppy or they were luring her into making a clumsy dash in the shadows. Considering they were under the control of a powerful spell, the latter was more likely. She waited for the last hoofsteps to die away in the distance before she slipped out and walked casually towards the staircase leading down from the foyer.
She totally wasn't walking like an awkward robot.
The wide staircase hugged the foundations of the palace where it melded into the chasm wall. The air felt warm despite them being in a cavern. A loud rushing noise grew louder as she descended. She took a peek over the staircase's railing. She gasped at the sight. The staircase had merged into a bridge crossing a wide, steaming waterfall. The boiling water glowed with the sparkling amber sheen of goldsprite, a magical algae that only grew in hot springs. The river of gold poured forth from the bossom of a gigantic statue of a collared mare holding her forehooves over her heart. Errant flakes of goldsprite floating up in the steam lit up the statue's face, her stony gaze turned upwards towards the Fire of Devotion above.
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'The hot springs keeps the cavern warm and lit,' Twilight thought, seeing the water piped through clear crystal tubing running along the walls, casting its light and warmth across the rest of the staircase and walkways below. Twilight followed the light down, allowing it to lead her to what looked like a main thoroughfare running along two walkways divided by the river of gold. The walkways split off into stone staircases, bridges and walkways at random intervals, leading away into buildings and halls carved into the cavern walls. Her mental copy of the facility map told her the first hall on the left was the slave pens she had spied from the viewing galleries that curved high above it. She felt a touch of trepidation as she realized it was pure terra incognita beyond this point.
It was more crowded here. Twilight saw a group of ponies circled around a nook on the street. A single guard stood at the edge of circle, watching the rest of the thoroughfare with an idle expression. She wondered what was going on as she approached. Then she heard the muffled moans and wet slapping of what could only be mating flanks. Apprehension struck, even as she found a gap wide enough to peer through. There lay an azure unicorn mare wearing a red studded collar, being rutted in the mouth and pussy out in the open street by burly masked stallions. The circle of masked mares and stallions simply watched, some even cheered as a stallion pulled his cock out of the mare's mouth and unloaded his hot seed all over her poor face. The mare panted for air as the stallion cleaned off his stallionhood by rubbing it on her face and mane, treating her like a cock rag. "Th-thank you for using this slave, sir," the little mare whimpered, even as a masked pegasus mare walked up to take the stallion's place. The masked pegasus wasted no time in sitting down on her messy muzzle. The collared mare gave an excited squeal that quickly trailed off into ravenous lapping and moaning as the masked pegasus grounded her pussy into her muzzle.
Twilight shivered. It was a shiver of anger, she told herself, willing herself to ignore the mad winking of her nethers. 'Don't worry, I'll break your curse,' she promised the poor mare as she turned away. She was just steeling her resolve when she bumped into another masked mare walking the other way. She gasped, staggering back as she realized she had run into an entire group of masked stallions and mares on their way towards the slave pens. They all paused in their tracks, their gazes immediately trained on her collar. Twilight's heart leaped into her throat, her hooves rooting her in place. 'Oh no, they're looking at me. A-are they going to...' Her fears ran wild. Was she going to end up like that mare? Thrown to the ground and rutted silly in the street like some cheap rag?
"Hmm, nope," the stallion at the head of the group sighed, quickly losing interest in Twilight as he continued on his way. The others were quick to follow suit.
"Damn lucky owner she's got though. She's a cutie," a masked unicorn mare winked at Twilight as she followed after the stallion, "Tell the lucky bastard he should share!" She called back over her withers before disappearing into the slave pens with her group.
Twilight fell back on her rump, her forehoof clutching her chest to steady her thumping heart. 'I-it w-worked. T-the c-collar worked.' She thought. She frowned at the dampness she felt against her rear before she quickly realized it was her own. She quickly clambered onto her hooves, practically sprinting off on her way, as if she might somehow leave the dampness behind if she went fast enough.
She was careful not to bump into anymore ponies, a difficult feat with how more and more crowded the walkways became with not only ponies but even the occasional griffon and yak. A male diamond dog walked along a bridge crossing the river, leading a pair of collared earth mares on a leash. An actual dragon stomped along the opposite walkway, carring a pile of collared mares on his back like a treasure hoard.
Twilight gaped at the sight. Griffons? Diamond dogs? Dragons?! Does this spell know no bounds?!
She slowed down as she reached what looked like a wide circular plaza. The steaming river ended in a circular fountain that spewed a golden funnel into the air. Glowing algae flaked down around it, lighting up the plaza with their glow. The river itself disappeared under another bridge at one edge of the plaza. The loud rushing sound from below told Twilight it was probably another waterfall feeding the lower levels of the dungeon. Around the plaza's edge, supporting the platform and bridges, were big mighty branches that glowed a strangely comforting shade of lilac. If those were the branches of a tree, Twilight shivered at the thought of how gigantically enormous its trunk must be.
The alicorn looked about the plaza. She bit her lip as she realized she was only wandering randomly at this point. She briefly wondered if she should ditch her saddlebags and use her wings to follow the waterfall into the lower dungeons, going by the logic that the seat of the spell would be in the most difficult place to reach. She quickly buried half-baked plan. She realized she must be rather desperate if tossing her disguise aside in pursuit of Power Pony logic was beginning to sound like a good idea.
Pity the map upstairs didn't have 'Doomsday Control Room' marked on it like they would in the Power Ponies. Why can't saving the world be just as routine and simple in real life?
'Use your head, Sparkle,' she rebuked herself, impatiently. She looked around for something, anything, that might help point her in the right direction. 'Auction Houses, Markets, Cock Addict Rehabilitation Hospital,' she mentally read out the signs on the buildings surrounding the plaza, 'Wait, what's that?' Her ears perked up with interest as she noticed a large amount of traffic entering and leaving one particular hall in a corner. The large sign above the two wide double doorways was covered by scaffolding, suggesting ongoing renovations. She recalled the facility map upstairs labelling the location with a simple public bathroom sign.
'That place must be important if that many ponies are coming in and out, especially if the spell is making them do that.' Twilight reasoned. If she were an evil villain, she would totally disguise her doomsday control room under a public bathroom. Everypony would be searching the deepest, darkest depths of her lair while her seat of power was hidden away safely with the bathrooms conveniently close too! It was perfect! 'Even if it's not the spell's focus of power, I might pick up useful information like I did upstairs. Beats standing around here.' She nodded to herself, her path set.
Getting inside the doomsday control room was surprisingly simple. Nopony paid her any attention as she slipped in with the slaves being led inside by their bridles and leashes. A few wore the same looks of anxiety and trepidation she did, making her infiltration easier. Some, however, were a picture of barely suppressed excitement. The slave mare immediately in front of her had her tail flagged up high, her puffy and engorged marehood winking obscenely as she dribbled across the entrance. Twilight couldn't help but feel her own tail twitch at the thick musky scent of her arousal.
Could this be a clue that she was getting close to her objective? Or was that just wishful thinking?
Twilight's gaze landed on a sign by the door. Her eyes went wide with what was most certainly shock, regardless of what her tail or nethers would like her to think...or feel.
Public Cum Dumps and Communal Cum Baths
Guests are welcome to relieve themselves using any of the available receptacles.
Please respect instructions above or beside each receptacle.
Guests are invited to mark/tally their use with the available pen markers or their phasers.
Recommended phaser settings can be found on each receptacle's instructions.
Maids patrol these halls to keep receptacles usable.
If a receptacle is found to be over-filled, please kindly hail down a maid for assistance.
The communal cum baths can be found two halls down. Please read instructions within.
'C-c-c-cum d-dumps?!' Twilight gasped, her shivers certainly not a product of her own marehood's uncontrollable winking.
Perhaps it was just wishful thinking.
She would have turned back but the the flow of ponies seemed to be one-way only. 'M-maybe it's like a sperm bank of some sort...' she allowed herself one last shred of optimism. '...or not.' Her optimism died a valiant but foalish death.
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It was a wide open hall with stone tile flooring and dark polished marble lining every other surface. There were rows upon rows of wide open stalls, each row featuring a variation on the same theme. The first aisle was a column of stalls housing padded throne-like seats. They were mostly occupied by masked mares with the occasional masked stallion. Tightly secured underneath each stool was a collared mare, their muzzles eagerly pressed into the rears of their stool's moaning occupant. The rest of the slaves' bodies were anchored to the floor, presenting their poor breasts and pussies as hoofrests for their users. Twilight watched as a masked mare forced her seat to scream with pleasure into her own marehood by skillfully digging her rear hooves into the slave's tits and folds. Somepony had helpfully labelled the twitching slave's breasts and clit as her 'seat vibrator switch'.
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Twilight didn't even realize she was staring as she suddenly noticed she was standing in the way of the flow of ponies. A few passing masked ponies even smiled sympathetically at the drool leaking out of her mouth. She gave an embarassed little squeak, wiping her mouth as she dove out of the way into a random aisle. Her eyes were quickly drawn to the low boxes lining the row. Their edges and tops were rounded and comfortably padded, complete with convenient hoof-grips, seemingly to allow their stallion and mare users to mount them. Twilight quickly got to see why as one dawn beige pegasus stallion gave a contented sigh, hopping off his booth to reveal a pair of butt cheeks sticking out of a scooped-out ceramic recess with a collecting bowl at its bottom.
The poor abused pair of flanks was probably white once before repeated fleshy smacking had turned it red and tender. Thick, hot cum dribbled out of its stretched and fully-stuffed pussy. Its chestnut-brown tail was curled to one side with its tail-bell hooked to what looked like a lever hanging from a safety lamp. The low booths were evenly spaced out, their sides covered with safety glass dotted with air holes. Some had metal shutters drawn over the glass but some were wide open, such as the recently used one, revealing the snow-furred earth pony mare inside. She was secured with her hooves spread wide to the corners of the booth, her rear raised high and anchored in the rear wall, her muzzle bridled to the other end.
While Twilight didn't recognize the poor mare, she had certainly seen ruggedly handsome pegasus stallion somewhere before. She vaguely recognized him as Wind Waker, one of Rainbow Dash's Wonderbolt squadron members. She watched as the pegasus bit a horseshoe-shaped device hanging by a thread around his neck, studying the panel above the booth for instructions as he adjusted a dial on the device. "Set phasers to fucked silly!" he chuckled sinisterly around the device, aiming it as its prongs sparked to life. A muffled shriek came from somewhere inside the box as the spark added another tally mark to the impressive collection on the right butt cheek under the heading 'Pussy'. The left butt cheek was labelled 'Anal' and had run out of space for tally marks.
"Oooh, yes!" The masked mare mounting the box's other end moaned. "Mmmh, that scream felt amaaaazing. Make her do it agaaain. Oooh, yeees. I can tell she wants it too. Here, I'll even give you my master phaser and aaall my money. Just make her squeal again, please!" She waved her own horseshoe-shaped device at Wind Waker.
"Heh, sure," Wind Waker chuckled.
'What is that device?' Twilight's eyes narrowed as she inched in for a closer look. She sensed magic build up in the spark before discharging all at once into that mark on the pony's fur. 'Could that be how the spell is propagating itself?' she thought. She carefully slipped into one of the enclosed stalls in the row opposite where she'd be able to watch more discretely. It turned out to be a surprisingly spacious room more than a stall, complete with a sink, shower, toilet bowl and what looked like a standing urinal for stallions.
There being a complete bathroom inside a public restroom was obviously nowhere near as weird as an evil cult brainwashing everypony into mindless rutting. But Twilight couldn't help but feel irked, as if the room's very existence offended her sensibilities somehow. She did her best to ignore it, focusing instead on spying on Wind Waker through the crack in the door.
"I like this one," Wind Waker said, giving the used rump a slap, eliciting a muffled squeal from within the booth. "Well-used and swollen, but still very nice and tight. It's full up though so we're going to need a clean-up." He pulled the slave's tail, switching on the warning lamp above the booth to 'CLEAN'.
A cleaning trolley rolled up the aisle. A collared unicorn mare in a dark navy-blue maid uniform poked her head out from behind the cart. "Oh, if it isn't Master?" The peach-furred maid asked, bobbing a sweet little curtsy. Twilight suppressed a tiny gasp. She remembered her. She was a unicorn named Rosemary, one of the many ponies she freed from Starlight's village. She had to resist the urge to facehoof. How could one mare go from being slave to one brainwashing to another in such short order?!
'Or perhaps...it's something similar!' Twilight thought, deciding it can't be a coincidence that the same pony was victim to two separate brainwashing incidents, especially with the stallion bearing the suspicious device so close by. 'These two might be the answers I'm looking for,' Twilight thought, feeling a surge of hope as she watched the two ponies carefully.
"Oh, you were assigned to the cump dumps tonight, little slave? Not buried in paperwork upstairs as usual?" Wind Waker smiled, cupping the petite mare's cheeks tenderly in his forehoof. "Reward for good behaviour, is it? First time for everything, I guess." He grinned, giving her a light peck on her horn.
"You're bad at feigning surprise, Master. And no touching maidlings during work hours," Rosemary laughed, goodnaturedly, pushing the stallion back. "Still, I am very happy to see you, Master." The petite maid bent down on her hoofsock-clad forehooves to lovingly kiss her Master's hooftips.
"Likewise, little slave," Wind Walker smiled back, curling his other forehoof behind the mare's maid headress, hugging her into her hoof-kissing.
"How can this slave serve you, Master." The unicorn maid asked, peering up at her master from where she remained bowed at his hooves.
"Ah, well, this greedy little pussy's getting full up. Hardly got any space left for my cock." Wind Waker said, gesturing at the booth. The pair of butt cheeks squirmed in its box's tight grip.
"Hmmm," Rosemary straightened up to study the list of usage instructions for cleaning on the panel above the booth, "Mmmmhmm, looks like this one is deep-cleaning compatible," she licked her lips, clasping a sign that said 'Warning, Cunt Clean Up In Progress' to the slave's dock with a metal clamp. She reached into her cart and pulled out a long phallic-looking toilet brush with stiff-looking bristles. With little fanfare she gripped the trapped mare's pussy lips wide apart before easing the brush in, bristles and all. The flanks tensed up, the foalhole spasming around the brush as the booth let out a muffled cry into the masked mare using the other end.
"Oh Celestia's mighty sunbutts! Keep doing that!" The masked mare screeched, humping her marehood into the screaming side earnestly.
"Teehee, keep it up. Orgasming makes the walls churn like a wash trowel around the brush, you see," Rosemary said, skillfully stroking the brush deeper and deeper in slow, firm strokes, twisting and turning it as she worked the poor cum dump through her entire orgasm, "I'll have her clean in no time." The maid spread the slave's pussy wide apart before pressing her lips up beneath the brush's handle. "Mmmn, mrp, mlp, ulp, ulp," the unicorn maid made adorable little slurping sounds as her tongue darted in and out, lapping up all of her own Master's cum drawn out by the brush and orgasm straight out of the cum dump's used pussy. Her tongue brushed against the cum dump's clit, forcing a loud cry of bliss from the poor slave. The masked mare must have felt it as she quickly echoed her, crying out in passionate euphoria as she bucked her hips into the other end all the way through her mighty orgasm.
"There, nice and clean." Rosemary nodded with a satisfied smile as she sat back to admire the quivering freshly-cleaned pussy in front of her.
"Y'know, for a maid who only pushes pens upstairs, yer mighty skilled at this," Wind said, approvingly, "I'm guessin' a pussy brush is no different from a quill then?"
"M-my seniors gave me a l-live demonstration in the dorms last night," the unicorn maid said in a timid whisper before quickly standing up to attention once more. "U-um, this cum dump is ready for use, Master," she announced to Wind Waker as she pulled the clean-up sign off the slave's dock. "Might I say, your cum tastes as tasty as...." She was interrupted by a sudden beeping noise. The maid's collar flashed a bright green, attracting the attention of all the ponies around her. Rosemary gave a loud gasp, shuddering as something clicked loudly under her wide frilly skirt. The unicorn maid squirmed uncomfortably as she realized that every masked pony around her was studying her collar as if it might tell them what to do in the event that a mare's dress made funny clicking noises.
"Clockface." Rosemary's ears twitched as she heard somepony suddenly invoke the safe word. Everypony within earshot, pretty much half the row, paused their activities to look around. Rosemary followed their gaze. She gave a teeny gasp as she realized it was her own Master. "Sorry y'all. Take a good luck at her collar. My little one's permission-only, not free-use." Rosemary heard her Master say stiffly as he pulled her quivering form into a rather protective embrace.
A quiet chorus of awkward apologies filled the air as the circle of masked ponies sheepishly dissolved, returning to their own activities. "Are you alright, dear?" One masked mare asked, kindly.
"Do you two want to use the safe word room?" A masked unicorn stallion offered.
"That's a good idea, actually. Thankin' ya kindly, sir." Wind Waker said.
"I can teleport you there, or we can turn this stall into a temporary one. Those stalls have mighty good sound-proofing." The masked unicorn said, nodding at the room Twilight was in. Twilight gave a squeak of fright as she realized her hiding place was at risk.
"That's very kind of y'all." Wind Waker gave them a genial nod as the masked mare helpfully hoofed over a sign that read 'In Use - Safe Word Room'.
"You have a good Master there, miss. He showed no hesitation with that safe word," the masked stallion said to Rosemary, "I'll stop nosin' and give you two the space you need. You two take care, now." The two masked ponies gave a parting nod before going on their way.
"Them's good ponies," Wind Waker smiled as he hung the sign on the stall's handle. "Come, let's get you inside," the stallion said, pushing Rosemary's cleaning cart inside.
Twilight gave a squeak of fright as she dove for the shower. She had barely ducked behind the thankfully opaque screen and cast a silence spell and the refraction spell from earlier before the pegasus led the unicorn maid inside the room. The bustle of the cum dump halls outside died to nothingness as Wind Waker closed the door, suggesting a powerful privacy enchantment on the room. Despite her silence spell, Twilight still bit down on her own forehoof as she willed her heart to stop beating so hard. She could barely hear Wind Waker speak over its thumping in her ears.
"You really need to talk to the head maid about changin' them blinky lights on them maid collars, or at least make it optional." Twilight watched Wind Waker take off his mask through her refraction spell's window. "I know most of the maids like gettin' some action as soon as work ends, but it can't be everypony's cup of tea," the stallion said.
"Well, the maid service isn't perfect..." Rosemary conceded with a watery little smile.
"No, it isn't," Wind Waker agreed, stiffly, "For all their squabbling with the Kindlers about moving on from the past, they've got their hooves stuck squarely in tradition themselves."
"Well, it can't help it sometimes, it is the second oldest organization in Clocktower," Rosemary defended her peers.
"The Kindlers are first and ya don't see any folk givin' two flaps about'em." Wind Waker rolled his eyes.
"Well, your collar tells them I'm not free use," Rosemary said, brushing a forehoof over her black collar.
Twilight broke a cold sweat at that. 'The collars tell them whether the slaves are f-free use o-or not?! Th-that must be why those masked ponies ignored me. C-Celestia, th-thank goodness I chose the right collar!' she thought in a mix of shock and relief. She didn't even realize she didn't have all the information on how the collars worked when she selected hers.
Twilight made a mental note to gather her information a little more carefully in the future, lest she end up a quivering pile of thoroughly-used pussy. Not that she wanted that, not in the slightest.
"Just the very thought that they might use you made you uncomfortable, plain as day. Look, yer still shiverin'," Wind Waker muttered, pulling the trembling little maid against his chest in a comforting hold. "The collar system's okay, but it ain't perfect. Neither is Clocktower. The society relies on ponies to look after themselves too. Why'd you even agree to working the cum dumps for the day when you know things like this could happen? Reward for good behaviour my tush!" He winced as he realized the poor mare was flinching in fear. "I-I'm sorry. I-I'm actin' all high'n'mighty but I ain't perfect either. I-I just hate seein' ya like this."
"N-no, you're looking out for me Wind. You always have." Rosemary curled her forehooves around his and raised it to her face, nuzzling it tenderly. "I...I like it down here. I like seeing ponies enjoy themselves so freely. And I like servicing them. They make me wonder sometimes, if the village never happened, if Clocktower had found me first, whether could I be enjoying myself just as freely. It's just that when when ponies look at me like that, I get really frightened that they might take control away from me. Then I'd....I'd be right back at the village again, " she shivered at the word.
'Did she mean Starlight's village?' Twilight thought, ears perking up. Could this be the revelation she was waiting for?
"I was such a foalish mare, going to that village, looking for my silly idea of 'complete submission'. They took everything - my cutie mark, my life, my mind, my control. I tried to convince myself it was what I I had been looking for, what I wanted, but deep down I was frightened that I was losing myself and I couldn't do anything about it. Then Princess Twilight came and showed us it was all a lie. I...I was so lost, so scared at what I had done, what I allowed them to do to me." Rosemary reached to her stallion and clutched him tight. "If Princess Cadence hadn't assigned you to come find me, I would still be too scared to even leave that house, let alone the village. You taught me I was right to be frightened, that I shouldn't ever have had to lose control, that submission is controlling my choice to give myself. You showed me my dreams weren't wrong, that there was a way to do it right, a way I can control, the Clocktower way. If it weren't for you, I would still be a lost, frightened, foalish little mare." She gave a contented sigh as she nuzzled against her stallion's neck. "I still thank my lucky stars that it was you who became my Master."
Twilight reeled at the overload of revelations. She hadn't realized the depth of what was going on at the village. She thought she had done her world-saving for the day and gone home. She hadn't even thought of how the villagers were meant to recover from years of brainwashing, or, worse, deal with whatever it was Rosemary went through. Rosemary's vagueness, her obvious avoidance of mentioning what had actually happened to her, only drove Twilight's imaginations mad. 'What in the name of Tartarus did Starlight DO to those ponies?!'
From the sounds of things, Cadence followed up by sending a Wonderbolt member in, maybe even other members of the royal guard. But for what purpose? Why had Wind Waker been 'assigned' to Rosemary? And by that did Rosemary mean Wind was tasked with bringing her to Clocktower? Is Cadence a part of this evil cult somehow? Twilight felt a dark chill take over her as she contemplated the possibility that she might be up against her old foalsitter. Or was it another doppelganger? Another changeling? Or perhaps they never defeated Chrysalis after all and this was all an elaborate changeling ploy to farm Equestria for love energy? Twilight's mind reeled with the possibilities.
"Ya realize Princess Cadence only assigned me to come and show ya the door to the society, right? You didn't have to choose lil' ol' me as yer Master." Wind Waker chuckled, returning her hug. "Not that I'm complainin' or nuthin'."
"But anypony else would have left when I closed the door. But you not only saved me from my bad place, you put me back together again. You're the exact opposite of naive little me, always questioning everything, even Clocktower. And yet, you're the one pony who understands me and my fears," Rosemary whispered, "With you I know that giving all of myself will always be my choice. And I know you'd always protect that freedom of choice for me."
"Aw, shucks, I'm not all that special," Wind Waker chuckled, blushing softly, "I just like knowin' my cute little mare chose to have me as her Master when she could've chosen otherwise. Makes it special and all, y'know. Heh, I guess in that way the Princess of Love gets some things right, matchin' up the same brands of weird," his chuckling faded away into a somber thought, "Y'know, ya don't have to work pen-pushin' for Clocktower, Rosemary. Yer a smart scholarly type, top of the class at Celestia's academy and all. Ponies would line up to throw jobs at ya,"
"No, I want to work for Clocktower. I mean, I've just become the administrator for the applicant screening team. I believe in what we do. We can prevent more ponies from ending up like foalish little me," Rosemary said, fervently. "I want to be able to help ponies the same way you helped me, Wind."
"Fine, there's no arguin' with ya when them there coalfires are in yer eyes," Wind rolled his eyes, "But you don't have to be a maid either, y'know."
"The village made all this wrong for me, Wind. I...I want to throw myself at this, I want to make it all right for me again one day. Being part of the maid service helps me do that." Rosemary said, assertively. "Besides, I know you like my uniform," She gave her stallion a smug little grin, "I know you like how it keeps what's underneath just for you. Because I do too."
"You're...." Wind paused, his eyes roving downwards. "...Very persuasive." He gulped a little as he took in how snugly the uniform hugged the little mare's delicious curves.
"I learn from the best." The unicorn maid smiled triumphantly.
'Clocktower is helping her recover from what happened at the village somehow?' Twilight frowned. How? As far as Twilight could see, the poor mare had escaped the proverbial frying pan only to land in a very deep, dark fire. But Rose seemed ever so certain Clocktower would help prevent whatever happened to her at the village from happening to other ponies. If she took that to imply Clocktower prevented ponies from being subjected to forced indoctrination and captivity then...
Twilight shook the treacherous thought from her mind. There was no way any sane, willing pony could want this, no matter how happy these slaves looked. The spell must be worming into her mind once more, no doubt also the reason her marehood was once again drenched in need. She refocused her mind, studying the two, waiting for them to drop more valuable information.
"Hay, Wind? Thank you for always making me feel safe," the maid added in a little whisper, pressing herself up against him, "You could have chosen any mare to take as your personal slave, Mr. hotshot Wonderbolt. But you chose this broken little mare."
"Yer a beautiful mare. And yer anythin' but broken. When you give yourself to me, y'know what it means more than anypony," Wind replied, softly, "What happened to ya was shit. But it's made ya a better mare, the mare I love,"
"Wind?" She peered up at her stallion, giving him a hopeful look, "I have something I've been wanting to tell you. I was going to wait for the right moment, but I think it's time." She took a slow, deep breath, seemingly gathering her courage. "Wind, could you please add another rule to my list? I..." She gulped, "....I want you to be the one I offer my orgasms to one day."
"But ya don't like to orgasm, ya don't like losin' control like that. That was how the village..." Wind stopped himself mid-sentence, giving his mare a worried look. "Are ya sure, Rose?" He finally asked.
"I'm still scared of losing control, yes. But as long as it's you, Wind, I know I'm in safe hooves." Rosemary smiled up at him. "I want to move on from the village, take back everything I lost piece by piece. This is another step. But more than that, I've decided you're the stallion I want to give everything to, even my control."
"Ya don't have to do it on my account. I love ya as you are, Rose," Wind muttered, gruffly.
"I know, that's why I want to be even more for you one day, Wind," she said, kissing her stallion softly, "But tonight I want to just please you, as always," Rose said between kisses, "One day, when you decide the time is right, you'll be the stallion I orgasm for once more, Master."
"It's a brave step. I'm happy fer ya, Rose." Wind smiled as he kissed her just as deeply.
"Clockface," the petite unicorn said, smiling softly as she finally pulled back to look up at her stallion lovingly.
"Clockface," her stallion echoed, a sinister smile playing across his face, "Hmm, yer right about one thing, I do like how cute that uniform looks on ya, slave. Makes ya look the part of a hardworking slave mare," Wind slowly circled the mare like a shark. The little mare trembled as she felt his gaze caress every curve on her delightful little body. "But did I hear a loud 'click' from your uniform earlier? Show me what it was," he ordered.
The unicorn maid blushed brightly at her Master's request. "U-um, yes, Master," she turned around and spread her rear legs wide, presenting her rear up to her Master. She gave a soft whimper of embarrassment as she bit down on the hem of her dress and pulled her skirt up to reveal what Twilight immediately recognized as a chastity belt, its smooth black straps lashed tight against her shapely hips and thighs, its edges glistening with barely held-back arousal. The timer-operated padlock on the front hung open, leaving no doubt as to what the click earlier was.
"Hmmm." The mare's blush grew deeper as she heard her stallion inhale the thick scent that the chastity belt did nothing to restrain. "Take it off and present it to me," her Master ordered, licking his lips hungrily.
"Y-yes, Master," Rose whimpered as she lowered her front to the floor, freeing her forehooves to reach between her legs to tug her chastity belt down. "Ah, aaaahn," she made adorable little sounds as she slowly eased the belt off her marehood, the thick straps trailing thick glistening strands of her arousal. She spread her legs wider, allowing her Master to see just how obscenely wet her pussy was. The words 'Strictly Not To Be Pleasured' were magically phaser'd right above her tightly clamped and padlocked slit. The tight fleshy ring of her ponut above it was similarly labelled 'Anal Slave, For Anal Use Only'.
"Well then," Wind Waker picked up the chastity belt, giving its glistening straps a long, slow lick, "This don't taste like a slave mare at work," he smacked his lips appraisingly. Poor Rose could only collapse to the floor, her wobbly knees giving way at the saucy sight. "This tastes like a cock sleeve in desperate need to be used." Rosemary began to pant, her face turning hopeful. "I wonder who this belongs to though?" He wondered out loud, causing the unicorn's face to fall.
"I-it's m-m-mine!" There was a loud squeak. Rosemary gave a loud gasp as she realized it was her own voice.
"Oh? Really?" Wind Waker's grin took on a malicious slant. "You don't look it. That there's the uniform of a hard workin' slave mare," he taunted, running a forehoof along the spine of her dress, grinning at the mare's shiver rippling under his hoof. "Tell me, what are you, slave?"
"I-I'm..." Rose gulped, "I'm Master's slave."
"I can't hear you over the sound of your leaking pussy," her Master teased.
"I-I'm a pleasure sleeve!" Rose squeaked loudly, "I exist only to please Master! My body is for Master's use and enjoyment! I am Master's anal toy, never to be pleasured ever, to forever be happy and content with Master ravaging my eager tail-hole again and again for Master's personal pleasure!" She exulted her heartfelt devotion for her Master.
Her Master seemed stunned speechless at her sudden and passionate ouverture. His cock spoke for him, immediately rising to its full impressive mass, his flare pulsing madly, at her words alone. Rose's lips curled into a satisfied smile at the sight of her Master's arousal rewarding her efforts. She gave a little squeak as the stallion wordlessly strode over to her, flipping her onto her back. She gasped a little as she lay sprawled on the floor at her stallion's mercy. She mewled softly at his hungry gaze, before moaning loudly as he pulled the dress down over her shoulders. The elastic design of the dress allowed it to be easily torn off in either direction, allowing him to easily strip her bare for her imminent use. She panted as she lay in nothing but her collar, straps and plain white hoof-socks, gazing up at her Master with mixed awe and longing.
The unicorn moaned softly as her Master placed a forehoof at the tip of her horn before slowly, deliberately running his frog across her face, allowing her to kiss and lick it lovingly as he passed her muzzle, drawing a squeak from her as he squeezed her neck above her collar possessively, before allowing his roving hoof to come to rest over her heart. The mare shivered as she felt him press down on the phaser-brand, a heart enclosing his cutie-mark, marking her heart, in a gesture of ownership. She let out a soft sob, her eyes welling with tears as her Master replaced his hoof with his lips, kissing her brand tenderly, his eyes peering up at her with deep unconditional love. She raised her forehooves to her muzzle, muffling her soft squeaks as his lips trailled downwards, kissing each of the rules on the list of commandments branded into her chest.
The pegasus stallion wordlessly pulled up the horseshoe-shaped device in his mouth, lowering it to offer the dial to the slave. The unicorn slave seemed to read his intentions, using her own mouth to kiss and simultaneously flip the dial to a setting labelled 'Pain in the Ass'. She hugged the stallion around his neck with her forehooves, helping him guide the device down to the list of commandments etched into her chest. She gave him a teeny nod before closing her eyes in acceptance of her fate.
Her Master activated the intense magical spark between the device's prongs, pressing it into the little unicorn's chest firmly. The mare cried out passionately, her rear hooves tensing and curling, her pussy winking madly against the clamps and padlock gripping it, as her Master inscribed her latest rule on her body. He took his time, working cooly through her tearful cries. He did not stop until he was finished, leaving the poor mare panting softly where she lay sprawled on the floor. He grasped her by her mane, supporting her head as he made her gaze down at her freshly-marked chest. She gave a soft gasp, her eyes welling up with tears of joy as she read the rule her Master had added to her list. He held her there through her soft sniffles and tears, allowing her to take in his new mark on her body.
"Your tight little body is so beautiful, pet," he leaned in to whisper in her ear.
"Th-thank you, Master," she whimpered softly, trembling with happiness as she ran a forehoof over her freshly-marked fur.
"I will use you now," he declared, causing her to shiver from mane to hooftip, "Stand up," he ordered her onto her shaky sock-clad hoofsies. "Tell me what this is, slave?" he demanded as he herded her towards what looked like a standing urinal.
"U-um," she gulped, taking in the cruel instrument before her, "I-it's a tool for holding cum dumps in place for u-use, M-Master." She shivered at the thought.
"Then describe what's missing here," he ordered, pointing at the wide padded recess inside the urinal.
"Y-y-your personal cum dump," the poor mare panted with mounting excitement, "H-her legs tied open wide to receive you, her mouth open and waiting to receive your cock, her tight p-plothole waiting to be pulled apart and enslaved by your stallionly flare, her b-body craving your hot delicious seed, Master!" Rose blurted out, her wet hind thighs rubbing together in an effort to restrain her excitement.
"Complete it then," he instructed.
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"Yes, Master!" She obediently climbed into her own restraints, curling her body to fit her back into the padded recess. She placed her head where it belonged in the collecting bowl, her mouth positioned to drain and clean the cum dump that was her body. She raised her sealed pussy and tailhole up towards her Master, ensuring they hung above her mouth-drain to prevent any spillage of his precious seed. She moaned softly as she spread her rear legs obscenely wide, demonstrating flexibility born of intensive training. Her Master's grunts of approval spurred her on as she reached up and strapped her own rear hooves into the spreader grips on either side of the urinal, eschewing her magic to give her Master the most enjoyable performance possible. She finished by strapping her own forehooves to her own thigh straps, leaving them in position to present herself to her Master for use. "Y-your cum dump is ready for use, Master," she announced, quivering with obvious anticipation.
"Not quite yet, slave. 'Cause I plan on enjoyin' ya thoroughly for the next two days, I shall have ya give me every ounce of pleasure yer physically capable of," he growled, forcing a shiver from his slave. "Read out the brand on your pussy for me, slave," he pressed his forehooves to her temples, forcing her to read out the words marked above her tightly sealed mare mound.
"F-for breeding and Master's e-entertainment only," she moaned with mounting anticipation, gasping loudly as he unlocked the padlock and released the clamp, allowing the abused petals of her flower to bloom, making his intentions clear.
"What does it mean, slave?" he whispered into her ear as he guided her bound forehooves to spread her own pussy lips wide, allowing her to gaze into the depths of her own leaking foalhole. The tight tunnel twitched around the little cathether tube peeking out of her peehole that allowed her to relieve herself past her locked pussy, a forbearance she bore with immense pride.
"I-i-it m-means one day Master will use this pussy to allow this slave the happiness of bearing his foals with her body. B-but otherwise it is never to be pleasured, only toyed with for Master's enjoyment and to make this s-slave's tailhole spasm even tighter a-around Master's cock," the unicorn squirmed with impatience, "M-Master, t-this slave wants you to ruin her, please!" she pleaded with a desperate gasp, forgetting her manners in her excitement. She gasped, feeling her Master's cock twitch hard against the back of her head at her eagerness.
Her own Master seemed to lose his calculated dominating composure at her show of submissiveness. "One last question before I use your mouth, cum dump. What is this?" He allowed his impressive horsecock to rise tantalizingly above her, his over-stimulated flare hanging low and hard with its engorgement.
A profound sense of calm took over the slave all of a sudden. "My beloved Master's cock." She kissed its tip lovingly. "The one this slave exists to pleasure." She kissed it again. "The worthy destroyer of my pleasure hole." She kissed it deeply one last time.
"That's right, you little pleasure sleeve," he growled, pulling a bottle of marecum-based lube out of the maid's cleaning trolley, hastily uncapping it. The slave read his mind, opening her mouth and offering up her tongue to him. He squeezed the bottle's contents liberally all over her mouth, coating her tongue to the brim. "You have thirty seconds to prepare it before I use you to pleasure me." He slid his cock against her tongue, groaning loudly. The petite mare took his mass in one tight but swift stroke, immediately swallowing him into her throat, allowing it to to stretch her deeply. Twilight moaned around her Master's cock, reveling in the feeling of her tight throat rippling pleasurably around it. Twilight was content, feeling her Master's stallionhood twitch and swell with pleasure as it roughly thrusted in and out of her throat, spreading her ruthlessly about his mighty girth. Her swirling tongue and the tight muscles of her throat massaged the thick lube into every inch of his shaft.
She panted hard, moaning with disappointment as he finally inch after inch of his long, meaty member out of her drooling mouth. As its full impressive length hung in the air above her face, dribbling thick ropes of glistening lube and saliva, it was almost a wonder it ever fitted in her little mouth in its entirety. But if fitting in her mouth seemed like magic, fitting the monstrous cock into the fleshy ring of her tiny ponut would be nothing short of a godlike miracle. Even as Twilight used her forehooves to spread the tight pleasure sleeve as wide as possible, it was still helplessly dwarfed by his gigantic flare, let alone his mighty horsecock. The outcome was clear - her Master would utterly ruin her tailhole as he used her for his own pleasure.
And Twilight would have it no other way.
She whimpered with pain as she bucked her hips, holding her plot hole tight as she grinded it into his impossible flare. She moaned tearfully as she felt his weight slowly tease her resistance apart. He met her efforts with a single, slow but firm push, putting constant pressure against her grinding, forcing her puckered hole to helplessly stretch open around his massive flare. Her tight sphincter finally surrendered and gave way to its giant intruder, allowing him to sink his entire flare into her in one torturous shove. He gave a triumphant groan of pleasure that drowned her own cry of submission. Her entire body tensed against her straps, but she was powerless, her merciless restraints keeping her spread open and helpless for his onslaught. She felt a fierce joy feeling his invader twitch and swell with pleasure to the feeble spasms of pain from her cruelly spread ring and tail hole.
"Spread yer pussy wide, slave," Twilight barely heard her Master growl. She hazily made out her Master holding what looked like the stiff-bristled pussy-brush from the cleaning trolley, along with a bottle of her Master's homemade scorchingly hot chill sauce blend. Twilight could only whimper helplessly as he lathered the pussy-brush with the bottle's entire contents, making it clear exactly how he intended to entertain himself with her doomed pussy tonight. Her trembling forehooves pulled her quivering folds open wide, her heart aflutter with the thought of offering her most intimate place to be savagely toyed with for his delight. "Moon Dancer helped me make a new extra spicy recipe just for you. It's magically locked so it can only be quenched with my seed," he gloated, "Want it?"
"Y-yes!" Twilight panted, "Y-your slave is ready!"
"Good," he grinned sinisterly, allowing a single drop to gather tantalizingly at the brush's tip. Twilight gulped as she watched the bead grow before finally falling into her stretched pussy.
"A-aaaaaaaahn!" Twilight cried, her wetness instantly absorbing the heat, searing her madly-winking pussy. An intense sense of happiness filled her as she felt her Master's member throb with pleasure at the sudden spasm of her tailhole around his cock. He cruelly pushed the brush into her spasming folds, rubbing and grinding the bristles and hot sauce into her twitching ridges. She screamed even as she fought to hold herself open for him, every other part of her wanting to clench tightly around the brush's bristles. Every scream of pain, every squirm of her helpless body against her bonds, all of it served to draw groan after precious groan of pleasure from her beloved Master. "Hhhnnnnnnnnn!" Twilight howled as he worked both the cruel bristles and his shaft harder and deeper into her spasming depths, filling up both her holes to their limit and beyond. He had reached a point where the tightness of her body required him to pull back and thrust to advance, pounding himself deeper with every vicious stroke. He made good on his promise, enjoying every tear, every cry, ever helpless squirm of the mare beneath him as he drove his horsecock deeper still. Twilight felt a deep sense of fulfillment as her tailhole gave up inch after tight inch to be stretched and pulled apart brutally by his flare, slowly but surely moulding her little body into a pleasure sleeve for him.
He gave a loud, pleasurable grunt as he finally hilted his entire mighty length in her. Her entire self felt impossibly full. His balls hung low, slapping indifferently against her lips. She kissed and licked them lovingly, making pleasant moans of worship. She felt another peak of contentment as he groaned with delight at her lovely sounds. He grasped her forehooves, forcing her to squeeze the bulge his cock had stuffed into her tautly-stretched belly. She gasped as she felt her Master throb deep inside her. "Yer such a well-trained anal slave, every stuffin' is a work of art." She glowed at his praise.
She gave a loud scream as he began to twist and corkscrew the brush's bristles into her tender inner ridges. Her tailhole clamped tightly, forcing every tight ring of muscle to scrape and tug at his receding cock. Her tortured sphincter bulged obscenely as it gripped at her retreating invader. Then like an expert torturer cranking a rack, he reversed the twist on the brush. It tightened her tailhole once more to be brutally stretched apart by his returning cock. The two competing sensations paled in comparison to the one overriding feeling spreading through her - It was as if all the bits of joy and pride at being used as his pleasure sleeve came together into a big bubble of happiness. She felt nothing but intense fulfillment. It was not an orgasm. She was not allowed orgasms. No, it was something better, greater, deeper than simple physical pleasure. It was as if she had accessed a subspace of her mind, a place deep in her heart of hearts, a world where there was only herself, her Master and the powerful bond they shared. As she lay there, her body rocking back and forth in her restraints as her stallion pounded her plot hole, she felt a sense of profound control over every little way her body served his pleasure - every squirm of her body in her restraints, every timed clench of her tailhole against his thrusting cock, every effeminate cry and squeal that fueled his excitement. She was a gardener, inviting her Master to come enjoy her thoroughly worked and beautifully cultivated garden, and her garden was heaven.
She smiled a smile of profound bliss as she kiss and suckled his balls, drawing them into her mouth, limiting his thrusts to short, deep strokes that pounded her innermost depths. He groaned loudly as one powerful clench from the tip of his flare to his balls pushed him over the edge. He roared with pleasure as his hot seed surged deep inside her. Her already-tense belly stretched even more with his generous stuffing. She sighed happily as she felt his warmth slosh inside her with every powerful jet of cum. Her Master growled as he finally pulled out against the obscene tug of her sphincter, leaving his thick spunk to leak out of her beautifully-destroyed pleasure sleeve. He aimed his cock down at her perfectly-ruined pussy. He continued to thrust and work the brush into her foalhole as he flooded it with his cum, using the brush to grind and screw his warmth into every fold and ridge of her most intimate place. Then, with one last pleasurable grunt, he aimed the last spurt at her fresh new brand on her chest. She let out a soft moan as she felt his precious gift baptize her Master's new mark on her body. The stallion took a moment to admire his beautiful little slave spread helplessly below him, her strained body too tired to struggle against her cruel retraints, her tailhole thoroughly-used, her gaping pussy flooded with cum even as he eased the brush out.
Her happy little bubble lasted even as he cupped her cheek, gazing down at her with fierce pride and love as she happily drew his cock into her mouth. The sense of all-consuming fulfillment lasted longer than any physical orgasm as she lovingly licked and cleaned every inch of his stallionhood of his precious seed. It persisted as she spread her used tailhole and pussy wide open with her bound forehooves, draining her Master's fresh cum into her mouth, lapping it straight out of her gaping holes as her Master helped squeeze and milk her swollen belly. It did not falter as she went on cleaning herself for later use before she bit her own pussy folds to hold them tightly shut as her Master re-sealed and padlocked her.
She felt her Master suddenly grasp her chin, pulling her away from her task. She felt her bubble soar to new heights as he kissed her deeply, lovingly, making it clear how much he adored her as he untied her restraints. He continued on kissing her even as he scooped up her limp body, cradling her tight against his chest. His unspoken command was clear - 'rest, sleep, be ready for more use tomorrow'. The bubble floated ever upwards, carrying her with it into pure bliss as she allowed him to caress and nuzzle her to sleep.
The stall door closed behind the stallion and the carefully-covered mare lying asleep on his back. Twilight stared at the empty ceiling. She should be in a state of confused panic. She should be demanding what the hay just happened. She should be screaming for answers. She should be going all fifty flavours of ballistic, tearing this place upside down for explanations for the mysteries and riddles. She should be tying Cadence's tail to each of her hooves until she coughs up her part in all this.
Instead she was left with a sense of understanding, one so profound it almost hurt.
That was no mind-control spell. She had just gazed into the mind of a mare whose consciousness was a picture of crystal clarity, a profound awareness of herself and her love and devotion to her Master. Mind-control spells can recreate simple feelings like anger, love, fear and even illusions of vision, taste and smell. But they cannot weave such a complex state of mind, one of pride, loyalty and love. And no mind-control spell was ever complete, always leaving a hint of doubt and uncertainty in its victim. But this mare was an anchor of confidence in her devotion even amidst the sensations competing for her attention. There was no doubt there, only unflinching submission and love.
She had no idea how she had ended up looking into the mare's mind. Perhaps it was a result of the magical spells she was using to observe feeding back straight into her mind? Regardless of how, she realized then that she had accidentally done the same with Tree Hugger and the twins, accessing their minds just as they were entering that subspace of profound awareness. But the overwhelming pleasure of orgasm had made it difficult to discern. The lack of climax in Rosemary's experience, however, allowed Twilight to appreciate all the subtleties that made it clear she was a mare perfectly and happily in control of her own mind. Extrapolating that to the experiences of the other three mares she had tapped into, it quickly became clear to her that they were the same - perfectly clear of mind-altering spells of any sort. It was a random sample of four mares from an immense population of unknown size, but she had a (admittedly unscientific) feeling that if she continued on dungeon-hopping, prying into the minds of more mares, she'd only find more of the same.
The revelation lay heavily upon her like a pile of bricks - These were happily consenting mares, willingly allowing themselves to be subjected to such cruel inequine treatment. For what purposes? Pleasure? No, there was something more to it, something deeper.
What was it?
The question burned deeper than the mystery of the society or the riddles of its dungeons. She gazed up at the empty ceiling, as if hoping to find the answer there somewhere.
Twilight left the public cum dumps behind and trudged heavily out into the hotspring-y open air of the main plaza outside. Every step felt burdened with the weight of her questions. She felt like she had hit a big heavy door in her mystery, one that was not about to yield its answers anytime soon. She would not reveal the answers beyond the door by continously skulking about, hoping to cobble together the truth through observation. No, she needed information to begin making sense of these observations. She needed structure to her data, guidance for her search. She needed a...
She slammed into something hard. She yelped as she fell into a heap on the ground.
"Whoah, sorry there. Are you alright?" Somepony offered her a hoof up.
Twilight was just about to accept the stranger's help when she looked up at him. Her heart froze into a chilly ice block. Her instincts bypassed her numb mind, sending her into a panicked retreat. She scrabbled onto her hooves and ran.
"H-hay! Wait! What's wrong?!" The royal guards shouted after her. Unfortunately, guards had instincts of their own, hardwiring them into pursuing escaping ponies. "A-after her!" Twilight could only squeak in fear as an entire squadron of royal guards broke into full war-gallop behind her. Her wings restrained by her saddlebags, her eyes blinded by tears, she could only hope her hooves could carry her far enough away from these dungeons before they gave way.
Author's Notes
Stay tuned for a sneak-peek of the next Clocktower Scenes chapter - The Communal Cum Baths. The sneak-peek is below the page break.
In case anyone's curious, the rules marked on Rose's chest are as follows:
This slave vows to, in this order,
1. Preserve this property above all else
2. Not allow this property to be harmed
3. Care for this property for Master
4. Better herself and her lot for Master
5. Communicate her needs and wishes for Master
6. Endeavour to be happy and content
7. Strive to fulfill Master's every wish
8. Use this property to please Master
Sneak-Peek - The Communal Cum Baths
The hexagonal room was grandiose in every way, from its lofty ceiling to the sides that were only barely measurable by the many rows of pillars holding it up. It was warm, with the telltale steamy whiffs of the hot spring water warming up its walls and floors. But the vast hexagonal pit at its center did not contain spring water. No, it contained cum-hungry slaves, their cum-drenched bodies wading in a thick pool of hot stallion seed and fresh mare cum. They moaned helplessly as they desperately worked their hooves in and out of their pussies as if seeking to fill their starving wombs with more and more cum. The ones that managed to make it to the sides of the bath would use their one free hoof to claw desperately at the high cum-stained mirror walls, pleading and begging for the masked ponies watching above to feed and bathe them with more fresh cum. The masked ponies would pleasure themselves as they watched the helpless slaves before, occasionally obliging and showering the desperate mares with their cum. Vacuum-sealed glory holes lined the one-way-mirror walls, some high above, forcing the slaves to scrabble against the slippery walls to reach it. Some were beneath the cum's surface, forcing the slaves to submerge their muzzles in the creamy pool to suckle on the cocks and stuff their mouths into the pussies they so craved.
Occasionally a fresh slave would be herded to a plank. The mare would quiver with both fear and excitement as she was made to gaze down at her imminent baptism of cum. Then, with little fanfare, the masked ponies would toss her into the vat of lust. The poor mare would have moments to surface and take a breath of air before her fellow slaves surround her, restrain her and latch onto her like sharks hungry for fresh meat. The sharks would press their cum-filled mouths to the poor slave's lips, cunny and ponut, filling her up as they bathed her thoroughly in seed and made her one of them. A few unfortunate slaves would be trussed up in a sling or placed in body-cages, suspended mere inches above the cum pool's surface as punishment, forcing them to beg and plead her fellow slaves in the pool to bathe her and feed her starving holes with the cum she so craved. Stairs guarded by metal gates allowed the slaves escape from the cum bath, but only at the mercy of their masters and mistresses. Occasionally, generous masked ponies would cast a fishing pole with a cock-shaped lure clearly labelled 'Contraceptive Potion'. They would smile and watch as mares in heat leaped at it like hungry trout, their mouths biting down on nothing but cum as their fisher-ponies led them on a merry chase around the pool, taunting them with the only escape from their imminent impregnation.

Twilight cursed her own foalishness. Why?! Why had she run?! Why was she still running?! Only spies caught red-hoofed run!
Oh, right.
At least she hadn't been caught. Not yet, anyway.
She had to keep it that way.
Twilight charged her hooves with a water-walking spell, using it to race across the plaza's fountain. Golden splashes of steamy water fountained in her wake. She glanced over her withers. The guards were forced to split around the fountain, taking the long way around. She would have smiled in triumph if her hooves weren't starting to roast with walking on the steamy hot spring water. "Ooh! Ah! Argh!" She hopped, skipped and jumped the rest of the way, wincing as she landed on the cobblestone on her burnt hoofsies.
She had gained some distance, but the guards were fitter athletes than she. They were gaining. Two pegasi had split off to fly over the fountain, flanking her from either side for a pincer-grab. She lit up her horn, stealing a page out of Starlight's book and supercharging her levitation spell to lift herself. She only managed to keep it up for a second, but it was the second she needed to launch herself into the air as the two pegasi slammed into one another beneath her. The pegasi ball rolled across the cobblestones before slamming into a stone ledge beneath her.
"Gotcha~" She trilled as she sailed off ahead of them. 'Wait, what was that ledge they ran into?' Panic suddenly struck as she realized it was the plaza's railing, and she had sailed clear past it.
She looked down.
She quickly regretted it.
Below was the deep chasm beyond the plaza's edge. Golden hot spring river poured down from the plaza's rim towards the glimmering lights in the depths below.
She treaded air as she tried to spread her wings. Her wing muscles struck resistance. She looked around and cursed herself, realizing she was still wearing the saddlebags she had strapped around her wings as part of her disguise. Twilight's horn sparked as she tried to get enough of a bearing to attempt a teleport. She squeaked as she realized she was falling too fast in unknown territory for an effective teleportation spell. She desperately tugged at the saddlebag straps with her hooves and magic. She groaned as she realized she had strapped them on all too tightly in her earlier zeal.
She gasped tearfully as the hopelessness of her situation struck her. This was how she was going to die - falling in an alien realm, never truly fulfilling her mission.
She felt something flap in the rushing air against her tearful cheeks. She raised a tremulous forehoof up to clutch it. She gazed down at it through teary eyes. It was the collar tag, shaped in the form of an electrocardiogram pattern.
She hadn't even thought about it when she chose it. She felt a sob well up as she clutched the padlock in both hoofsies, pulling it tight against her heart.
How she wished it was him she could clutch.
A sudden bark of thunder.
Twilight clutched the nearest available thing in fright. Unfortunately, it was the pony she was drawing the hospital carriage with. "Wh-whoah!" The stallion gasped as he fell over sideways under her weight, pulling the carriage off the road with them.
"Meeep!" Twilight squeaked loudly. The last thing she felt was a set of hooves curling tightly around her before her entire world went tumbling. There was a loud thump, a crash, then silence.
The alicorn groaned where she lay in the dirt. She screwed her eyes as she felt the first telltale raindrop flake across her muzzle. "Ugh," she opened her eyes blearily, as she tried to feel the ground beneath her. Then the pain struck her. Her rearhoof seared with agony. She cried out into the dirt as tears blotted out her vision once more. "M-my hoof!" She groaned, "I-I c-can't move," she looked about in panic as she realized she was out in the middle of nowhere somewhere between Fluttershy's cottage and Ponyville. She was too far from Fluttershy's cottage to hobble there, she didn't know the forest well enough to attempt a teleport, and there was no way her sick and bedbound pegasus friend could come help her.
She was well and truly in trouble.
"N-no..." she began to sniffle as the rain and despair slowly but surely began to overwhelm her. It never got to take over, however, as it was suddenly overthrown by another thought. She gave a sudden gasp, slapping herself mentally for almost forgetting her companion who for all she knew could be even worse off. "D-Doctor Horse! A-are you okay?" She cried, looking about for the stallion she had dragged out to see her sick friend. "D-doctor Horse? Are you hurt?" She bit down a wince as she reached out and pulled herself across the grass towards where the cart had struck a tree further up the little hillock. "Doctor Horse! I-I'll help you! Just..."
"Leave worrying about others to the professional, Twilight. I've got a license." Twilight's ears perked up at the forced chuckle. "Now, clench your teeth. This might sting." She winced as a ticklish magical field took hold of her injured hoof. She sighed in relief as the pain slowly melted away in the magical spell. The numbness made it impossible to move, but at least it was no longer as maddeningly painful. "You're going to be alright." She felt something lever her off the ground before raising her into the air. A little squeak escaped her lips as she realized it was her stallion companion, lifting her up onto his back with his neck. "Hold on. I want to get us out from the rain at least," the chestnut brown stallion grunted, wincing visibly as he took the first step up the hillock towards the crashed cart.
"D-Doctor Horse, your hoof!" Twilight gasped, noticing the limp in the stallion's rear hoof, "You're hurt!"
"I used the same spell on myself. The oath said nothing about self-medicating," he grimaced as he carried her through the rain.
"The oath also says no lying. You wouldn't be able to move that hoof with that spell on!" Twilight pointed out.
"Do you want a second opinion? You're also loud," Doctor Horse chuckled lightly, crawling on his belly to fit them both beneath the cart's shelter.
"D-Doctor! The mud!" Twilight gasped, noticing him press himself into the rainwater puddling in the dirt to fit them both beneath the cart. "L-let me climb off at least!"
"And ruin my grand scheme to wear you as a blanket?" Doctor Horse chuckled. "You make a bad patient, Twilight. Bad blanket too. At least you're warm."
Twilight felt her face glow red hot in the darkness beneath the cart. "I-I can see why p-ponies would rather have apples than doctors." She huffed under her breath.
"Such a blanket statement," Doctor Horse laughed at her blush, "Well, I can tell you now, they're missing out. Apples can't perform surgery, play golf or tell bad jokes."
Twilight was barely able to suppress a giggle-snort at that. "It's Monday, I'm stuck under a broken cart in the rain, and it's still Monday down here. How are you still able to make me laugh?" Twilight chuckled, helplessly.
"My job is to entertain my patients while they get better. I am pretty good at my job, if I do say so myself." He chuckled along with her. "Keep'em positive, hope they test negative." He paused as if noticing something. "Twilight, you have something you want to tell me?"
"O-oh, uh, h-how did you know?" Twilight gave sheepish little pony-squee. "Is it another doctor skill?"
"No, I just felt you fidget against my back," he replied, simply, "And now I can feel you blushing against my back."
"S-s-stop that!" Twilight laughed helplessly, "Y-you're doing it again!"
"What again?" Doctor Horse grinned.
"M-making me forget that it's Monday and we're stuck under a broken cart in the rain." Twilight barely managed to wheeze in between chuckles. "Thank you, Doc." She said, her giggles finally settling into a grateful smile. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Get away without having to pay a bill, mostly." Doc shrugged to more laughter. "This one time, I was just about to pay off my own hospital bill at Manehattan General Hospital when they told me they weren't even expecting me to pay because somepony had declared me dead. Apparently they couldn't hear me telling bad jokes anymore and assumed the worst, and..."
Twilight would forever remember that as entry no. 11, variant 1, in her comprehensive catalogue of Doctor Horse jokes. It would still be 221 entries until she realized she was in love, 461 entries until they became coltfriend and fillyfriend. But no.11 was where it all began.
....And catalogue entry no. 4999 would be the last.
If only she had stayed at that cafe just a minute, a second longer, just to be with him for even one more moment, she could have ended on entry no. 5000. Perhaps she could have hugged him for the 132nd time. Or perhaps she could have told him she loved him a 2nd time. Perhaps she could have kissed him for the first time. Perhaps she would never have left. And perhaps he wouldn't remain the last regret in her life.
If only...
"TwiiiiiiLLLLIIIIGGHHHT I'M COMIIIIII...!"
Twilight's heart leaped. That voice! Dare she hope?!
"....IIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiing...." Something wrapped in a light blue magical glow zoomed past her, free-falling like a brick if bricks were regularly shot out of cannons. "But I missed!" He notified her, just in case.
"I noticed!" Twilight watched as the stallion spread his hooves like a sail, slowing his descent to match hers. "What are you doing here?!" She demanded as she drew level with him.
"Oh, just dropping in. What?" The chestnut brown stallion frowned at her tearful glare, "It wasn't a medical pun!" Doctor Horse chuckled, his usual bright emerald eyes and foalish grin no different even at terminal velocity.
"No, it wasn't medical, it was terrible!" Twilight wailed, "I'm falling to death and you join me just to make terrible puns while we fall to death together!"
"Twilight," he sighed, clasping his hooves about her withers tightly, "It's not the pun's fault. Puns don't kill."
Twilight gaped at him. "Wh-why are you so always so calm?!"
"Because regardless of whether or not I die, Rarity is going to kill me. That wasn't even a paradox," he said, simply, pulling Twilight tightly against himself, curling one forehoof around her collar. "Now, hold on tight, please, like my life depends on it. Because it does and I'm certain Rarity would prefer killing me firsthoof." Twilight did as she was told, clutching him tightly. "Here goes everything!" He pushed a catch on the side of her collar. Twilight felt the band around her neck suddenly loosen with a loud click. "Three....two....two and a half..." He continued holding onto the catch. A second later her padlock snapped. Twilight felt a telltale ripple of a magical spell burst forth from it. The magic wrapped about her body, unbuckling her hoof straps, bell, even the saddle. But most of all, she felt the saddlebag strap snap open and release her poor wings. Her wings instinctively fanned open, throwing the two ponies into a high-speed glide.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Twilight shrieked as she fought to pull up against the momentum propelling them downwards.
"Calm down, Twilight. I can panic enough for two," Doctor Horse mumbled weakly, clutching Twilight around her neck tightly.
"W-we..." Twilight felt a squee of hope rise as they began to soar upwards. "We're alive!"
"Ulp, perhaps living's not such a good idea after all," the poor doctor groaned as the g-forces disagreed with his dinner.
"Doctor Horse, we're alive!" Twilight squeed, squeezing her stallion tightly as they flew up alongside the golden waterfalls.
"I know!" Doctor Horse wailed, losing the struggle against his dinner, "P-please, I-I'll be a good pony. J-just put me down," he pleaded as they finally reached the plaza's edge.
"T-Twilight! Horseykins!" The familiar face of a certain alabaster unicorn peered down at them over the plaza's railing, her tearful eyes a picture of fear and relief.
"R-Rarity?" Twilight gasped on seeing her other special somepony waiting for them. As happy as she was to see her fillyfriend, she couldn't help but wonder why she was there. Come to think of it, she hadn't even questioned why Doctor Horse was there to save her to begin with. Or how he knew how her collar operated.
Before Twilight could dwell upon it any further, her thoughts were interrupted by a wail of desperation. "Y-you two are aliiiivee!" Rarity sobbed with relief. "I'M. GOING. TO. END. YOU TWO!" Rarity, Element of Rational Thought, shrieked.
"Actually, no, don't put me down," Doctor Horse squeaked at the sight of her fillyfriend's vengeful wrath, "Please! Please, I'll be a good pony, just don't put me down! NO! NOOOO!"

Twilight would have resorted to desperately shield-blasting the guards away from her precious herd mates. The arrival of her two beloved ponies would have spurred her to fight like a cornered hydra. She would have at the very least demanded why the two were even there in the first place. But she didn't get to do any of that, not when she was trapped in the inescapable black hole that was Rarity's embrace. "Oooh, my Heartsong, my Lovebird, you're alriiIIiiight!" Her fillyfriend wailed at her at pointblank range.
"R-Rares, I-I'm glad to see you too, but..." Twilight struggled to get two words out through the unicorn's hydra-like grip around her neck, all while dodging the constellation of wet tissues orbiting her fillyfriend.
"Uh, Rarity, from a medical, legal and moral point of view, I think you're choking her," Doctor Horse murmured in a valiant attempt to prevent murder in the first degree.
"Doctor Horse! How dare you say anything to me after forcing me to launch my beloved darling prince into a deep dark chasm of doom! You brute! Beast! Monster! Polka dot trimmed brocade!" Rarity snapped, pelting the poor stallion with a hailstorm of wet tissues. "You're lucky my beloved survived. Otherwise I'd destroy you!"
"Rarity, dearest, you're not making much sense, I..." Doctor Horse began.
"You dare speak to me of sense?! Sense would be making you sleep on the couch while I set it adrift in the Draconian sea! Without a paddle or a change of underwear! For ever!" Rarity shrieked.
"Rarity, we need to talk abo-..." Twilight almost chocked as Rarity dragged her away from Doctor Horse in what might have been a protective gesture if Twilight didn't feel like she was about to evolve into a giraffe.
"Rarity, dear, I think Twilight wants to say something?" Doctor Horse suggested as he half-cantered to keep up with Rarity's purposeful strides and Twilight's dragging-stagger.
"Yes, Rarity, I..." Twilight somehow managed to squeak.
"Doctor Horse! Why can I still hear you when I am certain I have banished you to the furthest reaches of couchland?!" Rarity barked. Twilight gave up getting any words in between her bickering herdsmates, allowing Rarity to simply drag her in a vice grip across the plaza as Doctor Horse helplessly trailed behind like a colt being punished for bad behaviour. At least it was obvious, almost painfully so, that her two beloved ponies were under no mind-altering magics of any sort. This was as natural as they get.
The guards didn't seem to be in any hurry to capture her. In fact, a few of them exchanged words, smiles and chuckles with a very apologetic Doctor Horse as they went by. 'I'm not about to let my guard down just yet,' Twilight eyed the guards warily, feeling especially fiercely protective of her two beloved ponies. But at the very least she wouldn't start leveling the entire place just yet. That would be a little rude. The polite thing to do would be to at least hear everypony out before she broke out the magic lasers and leveled the entire place.
Who said Twilight Sparkle hadn't matured emotionally?
"....you horrid little stallion, you killed my dear, beloved Horseykins! Oh, my poor sweet prince, gone! Forever! Because you made me throw him like a rock to his death, you brutish silly little colt!" Rarity's wails faded back into the foreground as she ponyhandled Twilight into an unassuming yellow door in a corner of the auction houses and the brothel. A simple sign above the entrance identified it as 'Safe Block 5'. Twilight was surprised to find that the circular, lofty hall beyond was comfortably-lit unlike the rest of the dungeons outside. Rarity wasted no time in pushing Twilight through the first of the many doors lining the walls, one labelled 'Safe Room 2'.
"But, darling, I'm still alive and I'm sorry I worried you, I didn't mean...." Doctor Horse pleaded before the door magically slammed itself in his face. "Uh, alright, um, I-I'll be out smoothing things out with the guards or talking to the potted plants or something if you need me," A muffled voice said through the door. "Err, just call me if you need me. I'll be here, waiting for you to call me and...stuff."
"The nerve of that colt! I just can't stand how...how courageous and selfless he could be sometimes! He's going to hurt himself saving ponies one of these days, mark my words!" Rarity listed off all of her coltfriend's flaws.
Twilight found herself in a room that decidedly did not belong in a dungeon. It was cozily-lit, with a welcoming decor that whispered 'make yourself at home'. A magical fire crackled merrily in a fireplace surrounded by comfy pony pillows. Rarity shepherded Twilight over to the nearest pillow as her magic busied itself about the room, putting on the kettle and levitating over a first aid kit. "Now, let me have a look at you, my sweet Heartsong. Did you hurt yourself anywhere? Did you..."
"Rarity."
"Let's check your fur. I don't want you hiding any injuries from..."
"Rarity, I..."
"Show me your wings, darling. That's a good..."
"RARITY!" Twilight snapped, her horn flaring, freezing all of Rarity's levitation spells in midair. "Please, would you just stop and tell me what's going on?!" she demanded, giving her fillyfriend a glare that could probably light up new suns.
Rarity stared wide-eyed at her normally mild-mannered Lovebird. She very slowly unfroze with a soft sigh. "I'm...I'm sorry, Twilight," she said, in a voice so soft and heartbroken that Twilight couldn't help but feel a stab of guilt. "I'll admit, it's bad of me for trying to put off our much-needed talk. I know I....I failed to tell you the truth when you needed it most, sometime, anytime before....before all this had to happen. And by doing so I have caused you untold harm. I do not deserve your wonderfully sweet love, only your anger."
"But...you were going to tell me at some point...right?" Twilight asked, hanging onto one last thread of hope, practically pleading her fillyfriend to say 'yes'. Because any other answer would utterly break the alicorn's poor little heart.
"O-of course, dear! I swear upon my honour, Twilight, I was going to tell you the truth. Right after you left the cafe, Horseykins went to arrange you a visitor's pass and a guided tour while I looked around for you. Obviously I never found you in Ponyville and Doctor Horse never caught you at the gates. We didn't even notice you had managed to get so deep inside until High Light and High Life came by and congratulated Doctor Horse on the 'new slave' they saw wearing his padlock. We rushed down as fast as we could, dear, but..." Rarity trailed off into a soft hiccup. "I...I suppose that's not what you want to hear. You want to know why we didn't tell you before tonight."
Twilight bit her lip. On the one hoof, she was struggling to fight the urge to hug and comfort her trembling fillyfriend. On the other hoof, Rarity had confirmed her worst fears - she and Doctor Horse, the two ponies she loved and trusted the most, were in on this...this...whatever this is, with more and more evidence suggesting they were here willingly. Which, by extension, might mean her friends, her sister-in-law, everypony had been going about this without ever telling her. For her to have to find out by catching them in the act.....Being brutally honest with herself, she felt lost, hurt, betrayed.
"I..." Twilight took a slow, deep breath to steady herself, summoning up some of the most difficult words she had ever had to utter in her life. "If I'm ever going to trust you ever again, I need to know, Rarity," she said, releasing the words that had been trapped in her aching heart, "Please, please tell me," she pleaded.
Rarity winced at her harsh choice of words, biting her lips as she gave a tiny nod. "It was entirely my fault, dear. I...well, let us start with what this place is before I explain everything else. This is Clocktower Society, Twilight. In the simplest, crudest terms, it's a sex playground that has been around for thousands of years. While it is all done in good fun, what we do here is not without risk. It is even riskier when inexperienced, uninformed ponies become curious and think of dabbling in our practices without any training or supervision. So the society has recently started working to seek out ponies who are beginning to show some curiosity for the art and bring them into our ranks to better guide their interests. Now, Twilight, not to sound patronizing or anything, but we only noticed you showing some interest in the lifestyle about four months ago, about two months after we started dating."
"Four months ago...?" Twilight frowned, remembering back. "I think that was when I bought Love Song's books." She thought out loud before breaking into a soft blush as she realized she was admitting to hoarding raunchy bedtime reading. She had told herself it was all 'research' to prepare herself for where she anticipated her relationship with her beloved herd would eventually escalate to. Though on hindsight that excuse did not quite explain why a disproportionate number of the books were Love Song's 'special' stories. "W-wait, how did you and the society know about that?!" Twilight demanded, feeling busted in her pursuit of saucy smutty sex slave stories affronted at the invasion of privacy.
"Let's just say Love Song is one of our members," Rarity said, sheepishly, "I don't know how much you've seen, Twilight, but I mean it when I say we are working to prevent ponies from coming to harm. Though I suppose that doesn't sound all that convincing considering how wrong everything went tonight."
"I...." Twilight bit her lip, remembering Rosemary and what she had learnt about her past, how the society had sent out Wind Waker to find her and help her. Suddenly everything was beginning to make sense. "Alright, let's...let's put that aside for now. So you're suggesting the society found out...I mean, thought I might be interested? And they were going to invite me?"
"It was quite the uproar, actually," Rarity said, gravely, "Not surprising, considering you are a princess of Equestria, dear. The society's bigwigs and tophats spent a whole week discussing what to do. They all agreed on inviting you, they just couldn't agree on how or who should be the ones to welcome you. There was...how best to put it...a lot of politics involved. But Doctor Horse managed to wrestle the right to give you the invitation ourselves as is tradition for couples."
"If that was so many months ago, then why....?" Twilight's frown grew deeper as she left the rest of her question hanging in the air.
"That..." Rarity gave a long, drawn-out sigh, "That was my fault, dear. I....I was selfish. I told Horseykins we must wait for the right moment to tell you. I was adamant I didn't want to rush you. I was...." her lips quivered, her eyes gazing out beyond her. Twilight could sense she was recalling something painful from her past. "I was frightened, Twilight. I was frightened you'd end up like me." The poor unicorn averted her eyes. "Compared to all our friends, I'm a relatively new member. I only joined the society four years ago, Twilight, just shortly after our first Grand Galloping Gala. It was...it was somepony I met at the gala. Not Doctor Horse, obviously. This pony wanted me to be his mistress, you know, a dominant from those books you've read. I should have seen the warning signs with how insistent he was. He invited me into the society. We....we rushed things. I didn't know he was as inexperienced as I was. I didn't mean it. I should have been sensible. I should have said 'no'. I should have sensed things were going wrong. I should have...." Rarity trailed off into a broken sob. "S-sorry, I-I don't know what's overcome me, I-I..." She hiccuped, her tears running freely. "T-Twilight, j-just t-the thought that you could somehow end up like that, it...t-the very thought simply kills me. I..." She was silenced by a sudden hug.
"I understand, Rarity," Twilight whispered, comfortingly, holding her fillyfriend tight, "You...you were frightened for me."
"Oooh, d-darling, I-I still e-ended up letting all this happen, I still allowed you to come to harm in the end!" Rarity sobbed, clutching her tightly, "I-I am such a silly pony! I-I don't blame you if you hate me forever and ever! I'm such a terrible herd-sister, I don't deserve such a wonderfully understanding fillyfriend, I...."
Twilight realized she probably should have been angry - Angry for being baby'd, angry for not being involved in such important decisions to involve her, angry for how long Rarity had stalled out of fear, angry at Doctor Horse for not doing anything about it, angry at the society, everything.
But she couldn't find any anger inside her.
All she could really feel was relief - Relief that she was still allowed to love her fillyfriend and coltfriend, relief that her beloved herd had held off telling her not out of some ill intent to leave her out or something but out of love...even if it was a slightly irrational way to show it.
But Twilight did not fall in love with Rarity for her rationality.
Twilight finally gave in and did what she had been dying to do all evening long. "I love you, Rarity," Three simple words froze Rarity's stream of incoherent babble. "You and Doc both." Rarity gasped breathlessly as her fillyfriend's embrace tightened lovingly. "I'm...I'm happy that...that..." Twilight hiccuped around her tears, struggling to find words to voice her relief, her joy that she had not been denied her love.
"I-I understand, my sweet, wonderful Heartsong, because I...I feel the same. I'm...I'm ever so happy you'd still allow me to love you," Rarity whispered, wetly, "I...I promise you, darling, I would live the rest of my life working to be deserving of your love."
"I love you plenty as you are, Rarity," Twilight chuckled softly through her own tears, "P-Please stay the mare I love." She clutched her soft, velvety fur tightly, as if frightened she was in danger of slipping out of her grasp once more.
"For you, always, Heartsong," Rarity whispered back, giving Twilight a chaste kiss on her cheek. They lapsed into sweet silence with Twilight slipping into her favourite place nestling her head against Rarity's bossom as they gently rocked each other through their tears.
"I kind of have one question though," Twilight finally broke the gentle silence, glancing sheepishly up at her marefriend.
"I'm sure you have plenty, darling. I'll answer anything," Rarity said softly, caressing Twilight's mane lovingly all the while.
"I saw everypony else here on the way down." Rarity froze at Twilight's words. "And you said you were the last of our friends to join. So....um...why didn't you all just tell me earlier?"
Rarity sighed deeply. "Twilight, you wouldn't believe how many serious chats we've had about that."
"You've all...discussed it?" Twilight's ears perked up.
"Yes. And we've always reached the same conclusion," Rarity sounded suddenly weary, "None of us knew for sure whether or not you'd be into this sort of thing. It isn't the sort of thing you can simply ask, not without lying about our reasons should you have told us you despised the very notion. After all, honestly, darling, if the five of us had told you we love quesadillas and we visit the Mexicolt Corral in Canterlot every weekend, what would you have done?"
Twilight's eyes widened, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks at the very thought. She could only whimper in reply.
"Exactly, dear. Consider that this is a much more serious, dare I say, riskier affair than forcing yourself through a plate of quesadillas." Rarity nodded. "It wasn't until we found out you shared our interests that we could safely consider inviting you."
Twilight fell silent as the frightful thought settled in a deep pit of sudden, sober thoughtfulness. That was how serious this whole affair was. Quesadilla serious. Her friends had not taken the matter lightly, even weighing out all the possibilities and consequences.
Twilight was sure about one thing, at least - She hadn't given any of this the same depth and breadth of thought her marefriend and her friends had. The realization of just how far out of her depth she was struck her with chilling fright. "I-I want to go home, Rarity." She finally managed to whisper shakily.
"Yes, let's." Rarity nodded, decisively. "Let's go home, Twilight."
The door opened to reveal a stallion sitting by the entrance, a forehoof curled around a potted plant in solitary companionship, the other clutched in tight prayer. He looked up at the open door, his face a stricken picture of tearful hope mixed with frightened dread. He gasped as a lavender alicorn rushed into him, burying her face in his chest. He gasped as he caught her in his forehooves, his voice raspy with relief. He whispered her name, grateful that he could still utter it in love. No other words were necessary. Their hold upon one another was worth all the words in their hearts.
The stallion looked up over the alicorn's mane to find the other love of his life looking on with a sheepish, apologetic little smile. He payed her look of apology no mind, instead reaching out and pulling her into the hug, clutching both his beloved mares against his chest. Together they shared in joyful relief, happy that they were at least still able to go home together.
"Doctor Horse!" A loud bellow rang out across the entire entrance hall, echoing about the vaulted ceiling and domed cupola.
Twilight froze in her tracks behind her stallion. Rarity not-so-subtly stepped up beside her coltfriend, protectively shielding Twilight from view.
"What is it, Jet Set? I'm just on my way out," The doctor demanded impatiently. Twilight noticed how her stallion eyed the approaching dark gray pony with the kind of caution normally reserved for wild cragadilles. She was quick to recognize the black-maned stallion as Jet Set, one of Canterlot's younger elite.
"Don't play coy with me!" Jet Set barked, attracting the attention of everypony in the hall. From how he carried himself, it was obvious to Twilight he was intent on making a scene, "You can't pretend we didn't just have a major security breach, Mr. Chairpony of the Dom's Council," He trotted up and poked Doctor Horse in the chest. Twilight felt a flare of anger at how irreverent he was of her stallion. From the look on Rarity's face, she shared her sentiments. Neither of them missed the twinge of worry on Doc's face, however. "Yes, you know the breach I'm talking about," he said, his dark look slowly turning into a menacing grin, "The one that involves the very leader of Clocktower Equestria East, you!"

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Clocktower Vignette - A Cup of Coco (Contains Suggestive NSFW Art) PreviousChapters Next
Author's Note:
CONTAINS NSFW SUGGESTIVE ART
So for those of you following the CTS tumblr or lurking on the CTS Discord server, you've noticed I've been doing more art these days. I blame my new tablet. Anyway, I decided to start a new series of side-stories here titled 'Clocktower Vignettes', where I'll post a picture I drew and an accompanying short piece. The art will be of strictly 'suggestive' rating or below.
When is the next chapter coming out, you ask? Hopefully this weekend. I've just finished a 12 day week and I'm completely floored, but rest assured I'm certainly working towards a chapter release. Thank you for waiting~ <3
Without further ado, enjoy a little Coco Pommel!
(PRO TIP: Visit the CTS tumblr or look up my artist tag on derpibooru to see the rest of the explicit picture series and their accompanying short stories!)
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It has been nine months since the grand opening of Rarity’s Manehattan Boutique, an event its first Sales Associate, a certain Coco Pommel, missed entirely due to a bad case of equine flu. But for Coco that day had a much more significant meaning – It was the day she first met her new family.
The cool afternoon found the lone mare dazedly making her way home after reporting in sick to her new boss. A single errant breeze was all it took to finally knock the poor filly off her shaky hooves and onto the ground. She had scant little recollection of what followed. All she knew was that she woke up on a hospital gurney.
As it transpired, a passing couple had found her unconscious on the street. They had taken her to the hospital and even stayed with her until she woke up. Their names were Twilight Velvet and Night Light, a lovely married couple on holiday in Manehattan. To Coco’s surprise, the friendly husband and wife offered to lend her a hoof after her discharge. As much as Coco tried to refuse, the two never failed to turn up on her doorstep every morning to help nurse her back to health.
With their tender love and care, it didn’t take long for Coco to recover. Sure, she felt a debt of gratitude, but more than that she had really begun to warm up to the two ponies, something she hadn't done with strangers in a long time. She made up her mind. She simply had to spend more time with them while she could. She gathered what courage she had to offer to guide the couple around Manehattan for the remainder of their holiday. To her great joy, they agreed. For the first time in forever, the lonely orphan mare reveled in the warmth of long overdue companionship.
Soon the time came for the lovely couple to return home to Canterlot. Coco was a little sad to see them go, but they promised to stay in touch. They exchanged letters for the next three months during which Coco began to get a feel for how loving and caring the lovely husband and wife were. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of longing for them whenever she came home to her empty flat.
She finally gathered her courage once more and decided to visit them in Canterlot on a trip generously funded by her boss under the guise of a company visit to the Canterlot branch. The couple gladly hosted her, showing her around the Equestrian capital. She had such a wonderful time, all her usual worries and troubles melting away in the couple’s loving attention. That was when she realized what it was she truly wanted – A Family, just like theirs.
Just as she was pulling out her handkerchief from her saddlebag to wipe an errant tear, something fell out with a clatter. Coco gasped as she realized what it was – it was her Clocktower Society badge. She had rarely used it, being far too bashful to visit the Society despite going to all the trouble of becoming a member. To her surprise, the couple picked up the badge with a knowing smile. She was even more surprised when they pulled out their own badges, revealing themselves to be fellow Clocktower Society members.
One thing led to another. Twilight Velvet and Night Light revealed that they had been looking to adopt a ‘pet’. Coco bashfully admitted that she desired a family of her own. They wasted no time in registering her adoption at the Society. She relocated to Canterlot, her boss generously allowing her to transfer to the Canterlot branch. The rest was history.
She had been the couple’s pet for six months now and she loved every moment of it. She had a comfortable cage next to their bed, but most nights the three would be so worn out from using her that they’d fall asleep together in the middle of their tender, loving aftercare.
That night was another regular night for the family pet. She whimpered softly around her ballgag as her Mistress guided her into place, positioning her marehood above the instrument of her imminent impalement – Her Master’s enormous horse cock. Even now after six months of near-daily use, the tight little cock sleeve still found herself regularly broken anew upon her Master’s stallionhood, something the eager slave never failed to relish. Tonight would be no different, his enormous flare already dwarfing her quivering folds as she was positioned for her impending breeding.
She gasped as she felt a second intruder pushing up against her tail hole. She trembled with eager anticipation as she looked behind her. “Ready, pet?” Her Mistress asked, placing a steadying forehoof on her head as she grasped her reins tightly, promising her the ride of her life.
She gave an eager nod. It was going to be a long night, a good night.

It takes a lot to annoy the usually mild-mannered Vapor Trail, but a little hiccup that particular weekend managed to officially peeve her. She had to pause her session that long weekend to have dinner with her parents. She loved them to bits, but having to break immersion in the middle of a four-day-long perfectly-planned scenario to return to real life was more than a chore. At least her Master generously accompanied her and helped take some heat off some of her parents’ doting.
Vapor suspected her coltfriend secretly enjoyed being doted on by her parents.
Thankfully the two managed to escape her parents without having to go through the second volume of her foal photos. Her mischievous giggles as they made their retreat quickly set off adorable chuckles of mirth from her beloved coltfriend. The two laughed their hearts out the rest of the way back.
Whatever everypony else said, she simply couldn’t help but love this colt.
The Cloudsdale teleportation gate to Clocktower Equestria East was thankfully not too crowded, everypony having already packed into the Society to take advantage of the long weekend. Even the casuals who only visited once a month or so couldn’t help but at least spend the night.
Her and her Master’s new playmates from the Wonderbolts were already waiting where they left them at the safe word room. The big group of ten mares and stallions had taken advantage of the pause in their session to take a break and freshen up. Smirks and grins quickly spread across the play group as the star of their session’s scenario returned. Vapor Trail’s blurted apologies were quickly shushed as the group rose to carry her back to the dungeon, eager to pick up the scenario where they left off.
She quickly got back into character as she was herded back to her session, reorienting herself in the story…
….
….The poor slave mare could only obediently follow her captors towards the dark towering silhouette of a building. She had heard the other slaves in the slave pens whisper of the place in fearful voices and hushed tones. They called it the ‘Factory’. Slave mares would go in, only perfect sex toys come out - cock-sleeves, mare-thrones, you name it, the Factory produces it. It can take a day, a week, a month, the factory will take its time producing the perfect toys, its quality control department not allowing for even the slightest defect in their products. Their discerning clients deserved the best after all.
The poor slave mare had resigned herself to her fate. She knew there was no escape once she walked through those tall, imposing factory gates. There was only one way she was leaving, and that was as a perfect toy. She had glimpsed the schematics meant for her. She was to be forged into a heavy duty three-hole cocksleeve for use in the Wonderbolts R&R room. Her crafters had to complete the urgent order for the Wonderbolts within four days, a very intense fabrication timeline by the Factory’s standards. Which meant she would be allowed very little downtime as she was intensively trained into becoming the perfect cocksock worthy of the Wonderbolts.
She obediently allowed herself to be prepared and restrained for her impending objectification, suspended by heavy duty chains in the middle of her specialized intensive crafting chamber. Her artisans wasted no time in mounting her, ready to break her and remould her into the perfect product with their hammer-cocks. A forepony stood by a board with her schematic mounted along with tallies impassively counting out her progress towards becoming a finished product. There was a lot of empty space.
It was going to be a very long four days….

Clocktower Equestria West, Clocktower Research Laboratories, Intensive Stallion Studies Department
Starsong smirked as she watched her husband- no, her wife, slip behind the curtains to get changed.
The room she found herself in was quite pleasant. It was a pretty generic doctor’s office and nothing like hers back in canterlot. It was too sterile and formal in her opinion. It did give her a subtle thrill though - It made her feel powerful for once in her normally submissive life. The white coat draped over her form felt nice and familiar, even though it lacked the normal Lunar Guard heraldry she was used to. Her ears perked, she could hear her husband cursing.
He had lost a bet. She smirked a little as she thought about their new switching mechanic, fun little challenges between Dom and Pet; Winning meant they switched places. Thinking of it, it was more of a challenge than a bet. He had lost one, badly. The payoff - She got to be his Master for the day. She had all the power. With that power she instantly signed them up for a particularly fun-sounding Clocktower Research Labs experiment - To study the effects of mare’s clothing on submissive behaviour in stallions.
“What, by Luna’s big sexy plot, is this!?”
“It’s the outfit I picked for you, get dressed in it,” she scolded with a roll of her eyes. He was such a troublesome stallion at times. But she loved him dearly, even if he seemed obsessively scared about his masculinity being challenged. She smiled lightly from where she sat behind the desk, getting ready for the little role-play she had prepared; She had been instructed to treat this as any normal session, and she looked forwards to playing doctor.
Her eyes were drawn to the curtains, the telltale sounds of socks being slipped over hooves made her shiver slightly in anticipation. She took slow, deep breaths to calm herself. She needed to be calm and in control if this was to work. Closing her eyes for a moment she let her mind wander to that special place of hers, distancing herself from anything. Her muzzle set into a serene smile, one that mirrored Celestia’s gentle motherly smile. It was a mask of course, she was buzzing with excitement; But an air of professionalism was just what their session would need.
The nervous shuffle of hooves behind the curtain caught her attention only a second later. Opening her eyes she watched her pet’s blushing face poking around it. Starsong could see it all in his eyes. The excitement, the timidity, the meekness all battling to be the dominant emotion, all wrapped up neatly in a look of adoration.
“Come, no need to be shy little filly.” She cooed gently, like a proper doctor would while coaxing a nervous filly closer. Watching the obedience was almost intoxicating, The slow unsure step, the subtle way his tail pulled between his leg, ears splayed back ever so subtly. It was as if he was scared to offend her. “That’s it, atta filly.” She murmured encouragingly
Starsong took a moment to admire the graceful form of her mate, the well-defined curves of his agile flier body giving him a very feminine look in his new clothes. The white blouse and red pleated skirt hugging his flanks did nothing to cover up his privates. They accentuated his stallionhood, making the poor stallion look like she was about to star in a cheap low quality porno. The finishing touches to the outfit were her personal favourite though - baby blue and white striped socks.
She knew he was wearing matching panties, but he was doing his best to hide them.
Standing up from the soft, plushy pillow she couldn’t help but show off how much taller she was than her crossdressing husband. She flashed him a wicked smile that promised the feminine stallion a long night. A second later it was gone, but the effect was there. She could see him tremble, pressing down on the skirt she was wearing, trying her best to hide his- or rather her, arousal.
Prowling around the filly, she mentally nodded to herself; This was a filly not a strong masculine stallion. Starsong maintained that calm, motherly smile even as her eyes shamelessly wandered over her body. “Have you any idea how long it has been since your last check-up, miss Fire?” She asked, her tone stern but calm. “So long in fact that I’ve almost forgotten how cute you are. You look especially… adorable in that outfit.”
Watching the blush grow hotter was entertaining. “T-thank you, Doctor.” He mumbled. It was the most precious thing she had ever heard. Wordlessly Starsong stroked a hoof along his side, feeling up the soft silk. “Stand.” she commanded, grinning as Fire stood up obediently, forced to reveal everything to her.
Her cute little shaft was already throbbing with excitement, her cheeks a bright shade of crimson, her blush standing out against her coat, matching the dark red of her mane. Starsong watched her chest rise and fall rhythmically with apprehension and anticipation. The sight was enough to arouse her. She could already feel the first beads of her own arousal running down her inner thighs. A deep breath later she forced herself to remain calm and not ravage her patient just yet.Starsong started her inspection with a sly smirk at the one way mirror, winking at the scientists she knew where observing and gathering data from behind it. She turned her attention to her patient’s plot. The skirt really did nothing to cover it. Her panties were on full display, her balls hugged snuggly by the frilly silk. “Hmm… you seem physically fit. We’ll do some test but … there’s the matter of a prostate exam.” She said casually, it was hard not to burst out laughing, or grinning menacingly.
Catching the subtle shift in posture, and the tell-tale signs of a mare ready to flee Starsong grabbed her by the mane. It was so much more fun to marehandle somepony physically than it was with magic. A mouth full of mane was worth the loud pleasured groan it coaxed from her patient. She wrestled her over to the mirror, pushing her up against it with her superior weight … it was beneficial at times to be tall mare.
Pressing her body to the mirror she snapped the cuffs on her hooves to make sure she was not going anywhere, pressing her marehood to Fire’s flank she started slowly grinding against that divine bubbly butt. “Hmm… You’ve been avoiding this for too long. It is going to happen.” She said, taking her patient’s left ear between her teeth nibbling lightly, relishing in the sounds of her squealing, amused by the sight of Fire’s panting fogging up the mirror.

Welcome to Clocktower Society. This guide was written with dominants and dominant switches in mind. If you are a submissive looking for more information on dom masks, please refer to the guide recently updated and edited by my and my husband’s slave, Coco Pommel, titled ‘The Sub’s Survivalist Dom-Spotting Guide’, a well-written primer on everything you need to know about doms and their masks from a submissive’s point of view.
In this guide I will trot you through how to fashion your own mask and heraldry. Will the mask make you a dominant? No, a mask is just a collection of fabric and colour. It does not make you a dominant anymore than knowing how to crack a whip or tossing a sub into the tentacle pit.
Tentacles can help though.
So what then makes you a dom? Is it the burden of power and responsibility? The privilege and gift granted by your submissive? Is it a profound wisdom that comes as a revelation to all enlightened dominants? You will hear many ponies, both dominants and submissives, insist that being a dom is some or all of the above and many other lofty and preachy things.
Some of them even include tentacles.
The truth is none of them can tell you what makes you a dom as much as they can’t force you to put on your mask. What makes you a dom and why you put on your mask are one and the same - Because you will it. Clocktower’s principles of consensuality applies to dominants too. You become the dom, you wear your mask, because you desire to do so. Only when you freely embrace your identity and don your mask do you willingly take on the responsibilities and consequences that come with it.
Fashioning your own mask means making it entirely your own. What it means, why you wear it, how you wear it, what parts of yourself you hide behind it, what facets of yourself you will allow to show, what persona you shall wear with it, what burdens you shall bear when you carry it - All of that are as much a part of fashioning your own mask as is picking the fabric, colours and decorations. The choices you make influence the sort of dom you are to your submissive(s) and, most importantly, to yourself. Because these are your choices, because you have the freedom and power to make those choices, what sort of dom you become and the consequences thereof are also yours and yours alone.
Thankfully for all of us doms, the path of the dom is a path well-trotted. We are not alone in our pursuit of becoming the ideal dom for ourselves and our submissives. While the mask and the dom we become is ours to forge, we have plenty of guidance from doms, subs and switches who have gone before us. Some will suggest being a maternal leader and making your submissive’s needs and well being your first priority. Speaking from personal experience, that’s generally a good idea. Some say that enjoying yourself just as much as your submissive is important. That could be a good idea too. And some say tentacles are the final word in domination. That’s totally a good idea and you should come visit the Clocktower Research Laboratories and experience it for yourself.
....
Is something troubling you, darling?
I did say you are free to decide for yourself, that includes the freedom to miss out on my tentacles. Your loss, dear.
So fashion your mask, fashion the dom you wish to become, take as much or as little guidance from me, your submissive, and other doms and subs as you will in doing so, and ultimately take ownership of your mask and the dom you are.
Good luck, Dom.
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The Mask
The standard issue CTS mask comes with a few useful features beyond making it clear you are not tentacle bait.
Unlike the submissive collars, it is not mandatory to wear your mask at all times. In fact many doms prefer to remove their mask during play. It may be useful to wear them when out in the public areas of the Society, mainly as a form of identification and to make it easier for submissives to identify your interest.
Durability
The standard Clocktower masks are made of a very strong fabric that will hug your face snugly like a second skin. That might not sound like much but trust me, when you’re having fun pegging a sub, you do not need a cheap party favour flapping about on your face.
Eye slits
Allows you to see. Otherwise it’d be a blindfold.
That was a BDSM joke.
Is something troubling you? I could tell you a tentacle joke if you prefer.
Preference Code
Much like the submissive collars, your dom masks code for your preferences in a submissive. They are coded very similarly, such that finding the ideal submissive is simply a matter of matching your mask to his/her collar.
Eagle Vision
If you’ve read a certain unicorn’s (overly personal) collar coding guide then you have probably found yourself wondering how you are meant to be able to figure out what each collar means without anything short of the legendary Pie family sense. Luckily, the Research Laboratories have equipped all masks with an enchantment that allows it to decipher the collar codes for you. Unfortunately, for all their ingenuity they have yet to develop a sensible naming sense.
The Eagle Vision function is conveniently activated by thought, much in the same way as the submissive safety bells. Simply subvocalize ‘Eagle Vision On’ to activate it, ‘Eagle Vision Off’ to turn it off. Once active one can will it to show what each collar codes for as easy-to-read labels. Alternatively one can will it to highlight submissives with preferences that match those coded by your mask. Those that are perfect matches will glow a bright gold, those entirely incompatible (e.g. due to hard limits, etc) glow red while anypony in between will glow varying hues of green.
Fun fact - I glow gold to all masks when I have my collar on. <3
Base Colours
Base colours code for your relationship status and availability.
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Red
Red codes for doms who are not interested in owning any permanent submissives. They prefer brief commitments with short term relationships.
White
White codes for doms seeking to own a submissive for a longer term relationship. It is becoming increasingly commonplace for a dom to switch to a white mask as a subtle way of courting a red collar submissive.
Black
Black codes for a dom who already owns a long term submissive.
Adamantite Crystal
Adamantite crystal, a truly wondrous material, with crystalline clarity bordering on transparency and extradimensional properties that cause it to be impervious to the passage of time itself. It is a material so strong it could only be forged in the Fire of Devotion itself. As such they are effectively useless as crafting material outside and entirely unique to the Society.
A mask made of adamantite crystal symbolizes the permanent ownership agreement some doms choose to enter with their submissive, hence why they are also known as an ‘Eternity Mask’. It is a commitment considered at least equal to if not more than marriage and is never one entered into lightly.
Colour Combinations
You can have up to two base colours on your mask, splitting your mask into two colour fields in any pattern you wish. Common combinations include black and white, signifying a dom who already owns a long term submissive but is seeking more, or adamantite and white, often worn by couples looking for a shared submissive.
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Colour Border
Some masks may have a band colour running around the outside. This codes for sexual orientation. No colour border means no preferences, i.e. their barn door swings both ways.
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Blue
Codes for heterosexual doms.
Purple
Codes for homosexual doms.
There used to be a colour code for those who are tentaclesexual. This was removed due to how obviously redundant it was. After all, everypony is tentaclesexual.
Decorative Filigree
Most masks feature decorative filigree or engravings featuring delicate flowers and leaves, light rays, tentacles, constellations, intertwined ponies, tentacles, that sort of thing. Some even depict the cutie marks of their submissives. The colours used for these decorative filigrees code for the type of roleplay the wearer is interested in.
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Orange
Orange codes for interest in roleplaying forceful domination of an unwilling and resisting submissive.
Gold
Gold codes for gentle doms who wish to spoil and care for their submissives, a staple of pet play enthusiasts.
Purple
Doms with purple filigree are keen to play the strict, firm dom who would toss his or her sub to the tentacle plants at least once daily. For health purposes.
Plumes
Plumes are an unofficial addition to the masks that have become increasingly popular recently, taking the form of feathers, horns and other attachments. They are currently optional. They code for how open one is to interspecies relationships. Their recent surge in popularity is owed to the fact that the two Equestrian sites are becoming an increasingly popular hub for visitors from other nations.
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You can read more on this in the Interspecies Field Guide by Teddie Safari. However, in short:
No Plume: No preferences.
Red: Seeking a dragon.
Gold: Seeking a gryphon.
White: Seeking a zebra.
Blue: Seeking a deer.
Gray: Seeking buffalo
Black: Seeking a yak
Purple: Seeking diamond dogs
Teal: Seeking a changeling
Orange: Seeking a donkey
Peach: Seeking a pony. The colour of the tip codes for specific tribes (Lack thereof codes for no preference). Gold for earth ponies, red for unicorns, gray for pegasi, white for thestrals, crystalline pink for crystal ponies.
Trinkets
This is yet another unofficial addition that is becoming more and more commonplace as of late. Trinkets are accessories attached to the masks. Some even come with special effects such as light or illusionary fire. The most popular use by far is for displaying the cutie-marks of one's submissives.
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Image courtesy of Master Shadowed Ember
Heraldry Medallion
Every dom maintains their own unique heraldry medallion. While wearing this is optional, it is useful to display when meeting new submissives and fellow doms. They can be worn on clothing, hung on a ribbon or necklace, worn as a headband, eye patch, hair ornament or bracelet, etc. as long as it is easily visible.
The heraldry medallion serves several purposes:
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Dungeon Level Access
Similar to the safety bells, the medallion’s colour codes for the bearer’s access permissions to the Society’s deeper levels. Silver medals grant access to the upper dungeons, gold medals to the lower dungeons and crystal medals to the deep dungeons.
The deep dungeon is where the tentacle pits are, by the way. Just in case you’re interested.
Personalized Identification
Every medallion is always crowned by the bearer’s cutie mark, allowing it to be used as a unique identifier. This allows it to be used as an ink or wax stamp on letters and ownership documents.
Coat of Arms and Ribbon
Your heraldry’s escutcheon or central coat of arms bears your ‘Crests’. These are granted by the Society’s many guilds and clubs and allow you to display which organizations you are affiliated to. The central coat of arms can be divided into up to six fields, each able to hold one crest. If you’d like your heraldry to bear more crests, you can array them across the ribbons surrounding the central escutcheon. The crests serve a very similar purpose to the badges on submissive hoof straps in that they display to other ponies what specific kinks and fetishes you enjoy.
The crests also serve an extra purpose in that they also allow you to display your achievements in each field. On joining any guild or club you gain the rank of ‘Resident’, granting you a regular crest. Upon gaining enough skill and experience in the group you may be granted the rank of ‘Adept’, allowing you to add a garland to your crest. Upon attaining enough experience to begin teaching your guild’s artes to its residents, you gain the rank of ‘Master’, allowing you to add a crown to your crest. On proving yourself to your guild as one capable of developing and furthering your guild’s artes, you gain the rank of ‘Artisan Prime’, allowing you to add wings and a horn to your crest.
Examples of Guilds and their Crests
The Society’s various Guilds act as both a social club, activities hub, administration block and a school to preserve, propagate and develop their guild’s artes. Each guild has their own headquarters, each sporting their own unique flavour and setting. They all invariably have the following:
•Dom Lounge: The guild’s social hub for doms.
•Slave Pen or Similar: A holding facility for submissives being trained by the guild or awaiting training by the guild. In a way it is the social hub for the guild’s submissives. The form this facility takes varies from guild to guild, with some guild using open pens, some using kennels and cages.
•Training facility: The guilds are generally attached to the facility dedicated to their arte, e.g. the Milkers guild is attached to the milking chambers, the Breaker’s Guild to the breaking chambers, etc.
•Sub Washing Area: The medium to larger sized guilds with their own holding facilities and training facilities would often also have their own submissive washing area. While washing after use is something often done privately in the aftercare rooms, some submissives prefer the experience of being washed roughly as part of play, before or after the session.
•Sub Feeding Area: Some of the bigger guilds also include feeding stations with an ample supply of pre-milked feed as well as fresh feed straight from the tap.
•Artes School: Where the masters instruct residents and adepts in the guild’s artes.
•Registry: A complete registry of all the trainers and the submissives currently being trained in the guild’s artes. In some guilds this is no more than files in filing cabinets while in others it may take the form of an entire hall bearing the profiles of each registered trainer and submissive.
•Training Board: Each guild would have a job board bearing all the profiles of submissives awaiting training from the guild. Doms can browse the board and pick up prospective submissives and have them summoned for training.
•Staff: Most guilds also double as a voluntary caretaker service for the guild itself, its attached training facility and its members. The guilds always have part time jobs paying in Society tallies. Jobs often include general maintenance, teaching at the school and looking after the submissives in the holding pens with general upkeep such as training, taking and setting up for use, feeding, washing after use, etc.
What follows are a few examples of existing guilds and their crests. For a full list, please refer to the full guide on the guilds.
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Slave Trainers Guild
Crest: A black mask overlaying a red heart
The Slave Trainer’s Guild (STG) is the most subscribed guild in the Society and is often the first guild new doms and subs join. Its headquarters is the first you’d encounter in the Upper Dungeon Thoroughfare. It’s the domed top-hat-shaped building attached to the main slave pens. Its sheer towering size and brightly-lit facade makes it difficult to miss. They offer the widest range of services, from matchmaking doms to subs with matching preferences and teaching the basics of slave training to beginners to the basics of tentacle survival.
That last one’s very important.
Clocktower Research Laboratories
Crest: A spiralling circle around a clockface
The Clocktower Research Laboratories (CTRL) are one of the society’s oldest organizations, originally founded by the astronomers, scientists, alchemists as well as scholars and mages from Luna’s School of Magecraft who were persecuted as ‘Lunatics’, worshippers of Luna, immediately following the Lunar Rebellion. Sheltered by the Society, they have enjoyed one thousand years of unbridled scientific advancement.
No matter how vanilla you are, you have at some point in your life encountered a product of CTRL, often unknowingly, whether it’s that condom you used last Saturday or the sexual health clinic you visited the following Monday, or that fertility potion your friend and her wife finally decided on and the obstetric services they used thereafter. Or perhaps magically modified and perfectly legal tentacle plants. Or that moon rocket that totally did not start as a chemical-powered dildo. Or all the sex toys ever devised by ponykind. Or teleporter hubs. Or tentacle plants. Or toothpaste, because somepony decided blowjob aftercare would be a thing.
CTRL’s headquarters is situated in the Deep Dungeons, a tower of glass and metal that looks like something straight out of Clocktower Equestria West. Their test subject cages and testing laboratories make up an entire campus sprawling across the depths of the Deep Dungeons.
Tentacle Keepers Guild
Crest: Some really casual crest. A sun-like spiralling circle.

Bunch of casuals.
Pet Trainer’s Guild
Crest: A leash coiled around a collar and feeding bowl
The Pet Trainer’s Guild HQ is situated in the center of Pet Town in the Upper Dungeons and serves as Pet Town’s central hub. It is the large collar-shaped tower in the centre of town, marked by its guild crest. It serves and maintains the sprawling simulated idyllic village that is Pet Town where you cannot trot ten steps without encountering an abandoned pet in a box, where frisbee and running away from the pound catches are the local sport, where both the bird baths and bird feeders are big enough to swim in, where instead of slave pens you can choose between the local pound, the adoption center or the pet shop. The Pet Trainer’s Guild hosts the local pet show which it also uses as its rank advancement test for its members.
Clocktower Academy Guild
Crest: A ruler and a riding crop crossed over an open book
For those who hadn’t spent enough time being tormented in school, there is the Clocktower Academy and its Guild. Situated at the center of the Clocktower Academy Campus, the guildhall makes up a decent part of the main school building. For those who wish to remain in detention for the rest of your lives, this is the guild for you.

The grand hall held its breath. Ponies stood rooted in a wide circle, practically pressing into the walls to stay out of the impending blast zone. Only eyes dared move, darting between the alicorn princess’ herd and the slate gray unicorn bearing down upon them like a dark thundercloud.
"The one that involves the very leader of Clocktower Equestria East, you!" The stormy unicorn declared with almost theatrical flare, the kind of delivery that probably took plenty of practice in front of a mirror.
‘Doc is the leader of this society?’, Twilight’s mind reeled at the revelation. ‘And my snooping around might have caused him trouble?’ She still didn’t trust the society, but right or wrong, she felt a pang of guilt at putting her beloved coltfriend in trouble.
Moreover, there was something odd about the way Jet Set had worded his declaration, as if he was providing overt exposition to somepony. That was when she noticed him eyeing her, his smile widening at her look of surprise. He had been gauging her response and, judging from his sneer, had obviously found what he was seeking. Twilight remembered how her parents had given her a list of Canterlot elites to be wary of and Jet Set was right at the top of that list. Now she could see why. ‘What have I given away? She panicked. She looked to her stallion worriedly. He stood silent, giving the offending unicorn a cool look.
“Typical. As always, letting silence speak for you.” Jet Set sighed, dropping his dramatic air with a headshake of disgust. “I swear, we might as well have a boulder lead us. At least it’d have a little more presence than somepony who can’t be bothered to turn up on the shop floor for six months straight.” He looked around the crowd that had stopped to watch the commotion. “That’s all they’re going to remember you by, Doctor Horse. Silence.” He scoffed at the doctor.
Twilight felt Rarity brush past her as her fillyfriend moved up to press her side against her stallion’s in a show of support. Twilight felt just a moment of hesitance before quickly joining her fillyfriend, flanking her stallion’s other side reassuringly. She felt his tail curl around hers and Rarity’s, giving them both a grateful squeeze as he finally found his voice. “The security breach was my fault.” Doctor Horse said, simply. “I will take steps to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”
Twilight spotted the stalwart-looking guard stallion from the gates as well as the lazy guard colt who had given her the visitor badge watching from a corner of the room. They flinched with obvious guilt at Doctor Horse’s admission but were quick to bow their heads, blending away into the crowd.
“I’m sure you will, Doctor Horse,” Jet Set said, leaning in. “The question is, are you enough of a leader to get everypony to step with you?” He sneered at Doctor Horse’s impassive glare.
“I certainly don’t have to make a scene to gain attention,” Doctor Horse said.
Jet Set deflated visibly at the doctor’s words. He was just about to open his mouth to retort when he was cut off by a loud voice.
“Ah, Princess Twilight Sparkle, how it honours us to finally be graced by your royal presence!” The crowd quickly parted to make way for a unicorn mare dressed in a very officious white robe trailing magenta vestments. Despite the heavy robe, nopony missed the way her hips sashayed dangerously beneath the flowing cloth like the snaking of an approaching shark. While the rest of her body slithered along, her long slender neck somehow remained still enough to keep her tall priestly hat and the blinkers attached to it from falling off.
“We’re having a discussion here, Reverend Passionate.” Jet Set muttered at the cream yellow mare as she approached.
“Obviously you don’t mind audience participation, considering where you decided to have your little tête-à-tête,” she smiled coldly as she tossed her stiff-cut brown mane at him.
“These are matters beyond your little cult. We’re dealing with a security breach.” Jet Set growled at the new arrival.
“It’s certainly no security breach when royalty graces us with a visit, a potential new member we’ve been waiting for no less. I am sure the royal princess was simply taking the routine tour of our facilities before she decides on joining us. Is that not so, your royal highness?” She smiled sweetly at Twilight. Twilight felt a sudden twinge of hope. It was the lifeline she needed to help her coltfriend out of this mess. All she had to do was agree with this mare. But there was something about that smile that unsettled her – the way her predatory eyes gleamed like embers before a forest fire.
Twilight felt Doctor Horse subtly half-step in between them. At that very moment all her uncertainty over supporting her coltfriend dissolved into nothingness. Her stallion had sensed her discomfort, putting her above this opportunity to ease himself out of trouble. It was enough for her to throw caution to the wind. “Y-yes, that was exactly it,” Twilight said, shakily.
“Twilight,” Doctor Horse whispered worriedly.
“See, Jet Set?” The robed mare gave the gray unicorn a smug leer. “Perhaps you’re just getting paranoid? The church has weekly meditation sessions that can help with that.”
“If this is what things have devolved into, I want no part of this.” Jet Set muttered before thundering away.
“Poor colt. Must be his wife’s influence,” Passionate chuckled at his retreating back. “I shouldn’t keep you either. Mr. Chairpony, Ms. Rarity, your Highness, have an excellent evening.” Twilight didn’t miss the wink Passionate gave her as she sashayed off. The shiver running down her spine made sure of that.
“Are you alright, darling?” Rarity asked as the crowd began to dissolve, finally leaving them alone.
Twilight forced a smile. “I am.”
“I’m sorry this happened, Twilight. But I...I appreciate you covering for me. Thank you,” Doctor Horse smiled at her, though the heaviness in his voice told her his smile was just as forced as her own.
Twilight lapsed into thoughtful silence as she followed him out of the building and into the starry night outside. She had so many questions. Big ones, trivial ones, silly ones. But it felt like there was a wall between her and her herd. And she didn’t know where to even begin. Should she start by apologizing? Or idly asking more about the society? Or maybe even ask how Rarity and Doctor Horse were holding up? She felt herself spiral into a standstill as she imagined every way each question could go wrong and end with her losing her beloved herd. Before she could make up her mind on what to do, she was already in front of her palace in Ponyville.
“Twilight,” Doctor Horse ended up the first to finally break the oppressive silence. “So horseapples happened, can’t deny that,” he said with a sheepish grimace, “But all I care about tonight is that you and Rarity are alright. I know it feels like a lot of secrets just came out all at once. But I’m sure Rarity has already told you that we had long planned on telling you everything, though I certainly imagined it’d involve more chatting over tea and less plummeting to our deaths.” He received a sharp nudge in his side from Rarity.
“What Horseykins is trying to say, darling, is that there are no secrets between us. There were simply things I failed to bring up. And the fault is all mine.” Rarity said, somberly. “I know tonight has been overwhelming, so we want you to take the rest at your own pace, darling. Think of the two of us as open books you can read at your leisure, anytime, anywhere. We’ll answer everything you want to know.”
“And ultimately, Twilight, we love you. The society doesn’t matter to us. You do. If you don’t want anything to do with it, Rarity and I don’t either.” Doctor Horse said to a chorus of nods from Rarity.
“Thank you, both of you.” Twilight said, summoning the courage to reach up and hug her herd tight. They felt like the same old Rarity, same old Doctor Horse. For a moment it felt like nothing had changed. “Would you...would you two stay with me tonight?” She suddenly found herself asking. She wasn’t sure why, but it felt like she simply must stick to them tonight, lest she lose them both forever.
Rarity and Doctor Horse shared a smile before nodding. “I would love to, Twilight,” Doctor Horse said.
“Absolutely, darling.” Rarity nuzzled her herd sister. “But Horseykins is still banished to couchland.”
“Ouch.”
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Twilight stared at nothingness. There wasn’t much else to do as she lay sleepless in bed. It had been hours since Rarity’s breathing lapsed into the gentle rhythm of sleep. The sweet unicorn continued to cuddle her even through sleep. She couldn’t hear Doctor Horse in the guest room next door but it was safe to assume he had long since fallen asleep too.
Not having to sleep in couchland certainly helped.
Twilight certainly felt calmer, lying in her familiar bed with her herd sister. But sleep still felt far from her as she lay and stared out of a crack in her curtains. The calm night sky outside was as devoid of answers as her mind, even when she was abuzz with questions. No matter the situation, she was first and foremost a creature of knowledge. She must know. She would repeatedly remind herself of Rarity and Doc’s open offer to answer all her questions. But no matter what, she simply couldn’t bring herself to ask them. There was something holding her back, some invisible wall she couldn’t surmount. But she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what it was.
The first telltale haze of Celestia’s colour was seeping into the sky outside when Twilight finally gave up on the prospect of sleep altogether. She desperately needed answers, and she needed them now. She tossed her blanket off with a frustrated growl. She was Twilight Sparkle, the scholar, the scientist, the one who speaks to books. She does not wait for answers to come to her. She hunts them down and grip them by the appendices.
Where else would Twilight Sparkle seek out answers?
She made up her mind. With a surreptitious wiggle she managed to slip out of Rarity’s cuddle. Her fillyfriend whined softly, groping for her missing hug pillow. Twilight quickly substituted a pillow for herself. “Mmm, lovebiwd~” Rarity cooed, nuzzling the pillow as she settled back into peaceful slumber.
Twilight couldn’t help but smile fondly at her as she carefully crept out of the bedroom. Once safely outside, she lit up her horn and teleported down to her library. The crystal lamps flared to life, lighting up an entire hall filled with column after mighty column of bookcases. Her library was only second to the Canterlot Royal Archives and Celestia’s own personal library. If the answer was to be found in a book, it’d be here.
“Search.” Twilight cast her search-and-display spell. “Key words: Clocktower, Secret Society, Fire of Friendship, Cult.” Spindles of light shot out of her magical glow, seeking out points of interest in her repository of knowledge. One by one, books flew out to her. Twilight licked her lips as the first book landed in her forehooves.
’1000 Secret Hearthswarming Recipes For The Family’
She sighed. It was going to be a loooong morning.
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Twilight had to give the society credit. The sun was already creeping in through the windows to peek on her book fort and still she had yet to find anything definitive on the Society. There was certainly mention of a mating cult that once worshipped the Fire of Friendship and the six founders of Equestria, but they reportedly disbanded after they were outlawed for alleged Nightmare Moon worship in the post-lunar-rebellion era. There was mention of a mating cult providing refuge for ponies cursed with hermaphrodism, sexual disorientation and gender confusion by Discord during his reign of chaos. Interestingly, the cult appeared to be protecting these victims from persecution by fellow ponies, a practice that seemed to continue for centuries after Discord was sealed away. There was also mention of a secret society sheltering ‘Lunatics’; the thestrals, astronomers, scientists and mages who were witch-hunted for being alleged worshippers of Nightmare Moon, yet another practice that continued for centuries after Luna’s banishment.
But no matter where she looked, all she could find were disjointed accounts. It was as if somepony had taken steps to erase all significant mention of the society.
Come to think of it, that was probably exactly what happened. ’Secret’ society indeed.
Twilight was just pulling another book out of her to-read pile when a voice spoke up. “Don’t bother, you won’t find it in that book either. Pretty good account of the great Cake Depression of 200 A.C. though.”
Twilight almost jumped out of her seat. “J-Jet Set?!” She gasped, retreating up against a bookcase at the sight of the slate gray unicorn. “Wh-what are you doing in here?!” She demanded.
“It’s a public library, isn’t it? Your assistant even showed me the way here.” Jet Set shrugged his withers with a smile. “Now, please don’t worry, I’m not here to have another fight with the good doctor. I just want to help answer some questions and, seeing all this…” He gestured at the towers upon towers of books surrounding the book fort. “...Doctor and Ms. Rarity still haven’t told you much at all.”
Twilight wanted to tell him that wasn’t any of his business. But if there’s something she’s learned from Celestia and Luna, it’s to keep your enemies close, just in case they let something useful slip. “Why do you want to help me?” She asked, giving him a guarded look.
“Perceptive, succinct, assertive. I like that in a pony.” Jet Set pushed the pair of sports sunglasses up and over his jet black mane as he leaned back on a bookcase. “Simple, really. I think you’re what the Society needs to start changing. Failing that, at the very least I need Horse to sort out his insecurities so he’d come back and actually show his face on the shop floor. We’ve been running without our chairpony for six months and it’s starting to show.”
“Doctor Horse...hasn’t been coming to the society for six months?” Twilight frowned.
“Not on the shop floor he hasn’t, neither has Ms. Rarity, not since they started dating you. Out of respect for you, I suppose,” Jet Set said. “Not going to lie, it’s a pain for me and the society, so it’s in our best interests that you three sort out your problems.”
“So you’re going to tell me everything about the society?” Twilight cocked a suspicious eyebrow at him.
“Nah. I can tell you trust me about as much as a changeling riding a hungry hydra. That’d be a waste of time for both you and me.” Jet Set chuckled, slowly turning to leave. “I’m just here to point you in the right direction. You’re here turning your own library upside down because you’re too afraid of asking your herd one key question - how knotty they prefer their naked pretzels. Am I right?” He gave her a knowing sideways glance.
Twilight almost bit her own tongue at that. She felt a bolt of shame as she realized the infuriatingly smug stallion had hit the nail right on the head. On something she hadn’t even realized about herself, no less. He was reading her like a book, a madly blushing and furiously trembling book. Looks like Jet Set hadn’t earned his reputation as Canterlot’s most cunning nouveau riche for nothing. “How did you….I-I mean, what are you suggesting?” She demanded hotly as she struggled to choke down her blush.
The unicorn gave an amused chuckle. “You need somepony you trust, somepony who knows about the society, but also somepony who has little to no bearing on your relationship with your herd.” Jet Set summed up for her with an effortless ease that left her speechless. “Why don’t you write your sister-in-law a letter? I think you’ll find it most helpful.” He gave her one last mischievous wink before slinking out the door.
Twilight sank back into her chair with an exhausted sigh at the mysterious stallion’s departure. She couldn’t tell whether he was friend or foe, which, to an extent, summed up everything she felt about the society. But he was at least honest about serving his own interests, whatever they were. And he had also helped put to rest the difficult question of whether or not her herd had been going to the society behind her back, something she was sure she could never have asked Rarity and Horse herself.
Twilight closed her eyes as she carefully gathered her thoughts. Infuriating as it was to admit, Jet Set was right. Sure, she had a lot of questions about the Society. But thinking about it carefully, she was already beginning to get a picture of what it was in her head. Rarity had described it as a ‘playground for adults’, a description that painted an overall picture in her mind. The question of the society’s sheer size and scope as well as the mystery of the Fire of Friendship she saw in that immense cavern remained, but those were things she could very easily ask her marefriend and coltfriend. Even the mystery of whatever schemes Jet Set and Reverend Passionate were plotting and whether or not they threatened her coltfriend were things she knew she could better investigated from within the society than without. No, what was stopping her asking them was the question of the sort of ‘games’ the adults played in that ‘playground, whether or not the two of them involved themselves in that and, most importantly…
...most importantly why was Twilight herself so, well, interested, especially in what Tree Hugger, those sisters and Rosemary were put through? Could she...could she herself want that? To be collared and made her Mast-....Doc’s slave? To belong to him? To serve his every whim and desire as she is made to….to….
Twilight gasped as she flailed her hooves, batting away the fantasy along with its intoxicating miasma. ‘Yep, can’t ask Rarity and Doc. Nope. Nope, nope, nope, nope,’ she thought, deciding she’d sooner jump into a Twittermite nest with a metal umbrella than ask her herd about that.
But it was the one question holding her back. She could easily find out everything else about the society if she could just clear this one hurdle. If only there was a pony she knew well enough to ask something that, well, intimate. Somepony who she knew understood the society and the things ponies did there. Somepony she could trust. And, most importantly, somepony who wasn’t her herd.
That was when she remembered the other thing Jet Set had suggested. She wanted to facehoof, but it felt like one facehoof wasn’t enough. She settled for a double facehoof and facewing for completeness. Jet Set had already given her all the answers on a silver platter.
Cadance!
She was obviously a member of the society from what she had overheard the previous night. Plus who better to ask than the very pony who taught her the hooves and the bees? Or was it birds and the cheese? Well, that stuff.
She made up her mind, pulled out a piece of parchment and began to write.
Or at least she tried to. Explaining how she stumbled on what she thought was a big evil slavery operation before proceeding to disguise herself as slave and ending up secretly enjoying imagining herself as an actual one was more difficult that she expected.
"Hi Cadence. Turns out I like being tied up and... no, no, that won't do!" Twilight tossed the draft into the wastebin. “Cadance, I’m wondering what it’s like to be used as urinal and...nope, nope, nope!” It took ten drafts before she managed to get what she thought was a readable letter. She incinerated the others, making sure nopony would ever discover her wildest fantasies put to paper.
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After a lot of pondering, debating and assorted hoof-wringing, Twilight finally opted to have the letter sent via snowflake-post. She didn’t dare ask Spike to send it. It wasn’t so much that she was worried about him. The drake had come of age after all, a little fact that was finally hammered home in Twilight’s mind when she witnessed him become the dragon lord for all of five seconds. No, rather, she was worried that, going by the rather uncanny trend, she’d find out he was a Society member too. She would rather not have to deal with any further revelations, at least not then.
No sooner had Twilight sent her letter did the reply-snowflake float through her castle window. It landed gently on their breakfast table just as they were cleaning up. Rarity and Doc shared a grim look at the sight of the letter. Twilight had explained to them how she was going to ask Cadance for some advice. She had to sit down and explain it to them twice more before Rarity managed to hear her through the shock and horror.
‘Dearest Twilight,
I will be at your palace within the hour.’
Love,
C
“Are you sure about this, dear?” Rarity asked as she reread the reply from Cadance for the umpteenth time.
“Yes.” Twilight lied with a smile. “There are some questions I need to ask her.”
“Oh.” Rarity’s ears drooped. “I-I understand, darling.” Doctor Horse quickly placed a comforting forehoof on Rarity’s trembling withers. “I’m sorry, I know how hard it is to trust the two of us at the moment, but...”
“N-no, I didn’t mean it that way. I trust you both completely!” Twilight gasped, backpedalling frantically, “I-it’s just that, um, well, you know…” She gave a resigned sigh. Rarity had already apologized for hesitating to tell her everything. There was no reason for Twilight to have to apologize for the exact same thing. She turned as red as a tomato threatening to violently self-combust as she willed herself to speak up. “...can’t ask...sex slave stuff…” She barely managed a whisper.
“Pardon me, darling?” Rarity’s ears perked up.
“I can’t, you know, ask you two about...the whole sex slave thing.” Twilight mumbled ever so softly.
“Dear, I’m afraid I didn’t catch that.” Rarity crept closer. “What was that you…?”
Twilight bit her lip as she leaned in and whispered in Rarity’s ear. “Hmmm, I see,” Rarity nodded understandingly, “Oh, yes, yes, off course, darling…” She nodded some more as a soft blush crept into her cheeks. “...O-oh my, yes, hmmm, I-I see how that might be a difficult topic to discuss….” Rarity began to fidget in place, her hind legs rubbing together. “O-oh, my, darling, I-I didn’t realize y-you had given it that much thought. O-oh, a-an entire list you say?” Rarity’s eyes widened. “Weights? Riding crops? A-and, o-oh my, t-toilet brushes, where?!” She began to twitch perceptibly, her hindleg-rubbing intensifying. “O-oh, T-twilight, songbird, darling, I...Twilight! Mmmmhhh...darling, Twilight, I…..”
“Rarity.” Doc cleared his throat, giving her one of his rare stern glances.
“O-oh my!” Doc’s prompt sent Rarity flying clear off her fillyfriend as if she had been zapped. “Sorry, sorry, darling, I didn’t mean to interrupt your dirty ta-....I mean, your concerns.” She stammered awkwardly. “Yes, I can see how discussing….all that with us could prove difficult.” Her marefriend. pawed at the floor awkwardly for a moment before finally summoning up the courage to look at Twilight in the eye once more. “Um, are you sure you don’t want to discuss some of it with us? At least that thing about the riding crops?” Rarity asked with a hint of hope.
“Rarity!” Twilight wailed in despair.
“Yes, understood, Twilight. Rarity, down girl! Down!” Doctor Horse pushed his fillyfriend out the castle door. “We’ll give you two some space. Take all the time you need.” He paused to give her an encouraging smile. “I think you’re taking a very brave step here. Thanks, Twilight..”
“You two are worth it.” Twilight gave him an awkward but tight squeeze around the withers which he returned with his usual gentle smile.
“We’ll be at the Haybale Cafe as usual this afternoon so I suppose we’ll see you there.” He gave her a wink before slipping out the door. “Rarity, she said ‘no’. Now, keep walking.” Twilight overheard Doctor Horse shepherding Rarity away.
Twilight sighed as silence settled on the palace’s entrance hall. Unfortunately Rarity and Doc leaving meant she was left alone with her thoughts, and they were especially loud that morning. “Focus, Sparkle”, she reined herself in, “Let’s go over the questions we’re going to ask Cadance. Question 1, ‘why do I want Doc to tie me up and make me his….’ no, wait, that’s question 34. Uh, question 1 was how do I ask Doc to tie me up and….‘ Aaaah, no! Naughty brain! Naughty!” Twilight spent the rest of her wait wearing a new hole in the wall with her horn.
Thankfully for both her naughty brain and her insurance policy, she didn’t get to dig too deep into her wall. True to her promise, Cadance arrived within moments. In fact she simply teleported inside the entrance hall in a shower of baby blue sparkles. She didn’t have her usual royal regalia on and her mane was tied into a practical ponytail, looking less like the Crystal Princess and more like the lovely foalsitter who used to sing her to sleep. “Hello, Twilight,” She greeted Twilight with the tired smile of a battle-worn mother.
“Cadance!” Twilight returned the smile, albeit with a touch of uncertainty.
Cadance seemed to pick up on her hesitance. “Sunshine Sunshine~” She hopped on the tips of her hooves.
Twilight felt a rush of familiarity and reassurance flood her as she allowed herself to fall into the rhythm of their nursery rhyme. “Ladybugs awake! Clap your hooves and do a little shake!” She was surprised to find she felt all the better for going through the motions. It was familiar, and goodness knows she needed all the familiarity she could get at that point. “It’s good to see you, Cadance.” She couldn’t resist pulling her sister-in-law into a tight hug. She certainly needed it.
“I’m alway glad to see you, Twilight.” Cadance returned the hug fondly.
“How’s my BBBFF and niece?” Twilight asked.
“Shining and Flurry send their love as usual. Shining’s busy trying to manage the influx of changeling deserters. Flurry Heart’s learned her first word, ‘Hrp’. Shining’s been trying to add it to the Crystal Empire dictionary.” Cadance chuckled. “In fact Flurry was the reason I couldn’t rush over any sooner. The fastest way over from the Crystal Empire is through the teleportation hub you probably saw last night at the society. Obviously I couldn’t bring Flurry through there so I had to wait for Sunburst to come foalsit her.”
“I’m sorry for making you come over.” Twilight murmured as she rubbed a hoof apologetically.
“No, Twilight, this is very important,” Cadance said firmly. “I am glad you thought of me first and sent me a letter. Luckily for you I know the society you mentioned in your letter.”
Twilight felt a twinge of sheepish guilt at that. She had carefully omitted overhearing Cadance’s name mentioned or Jet Set’s suggestion. “Oh, eheheh, you do, huh?” Twilight gave a nonchalant chuckle that didn’t sound unnaturally nervous in the slightest.
“Yes, quite well in fact.” Cadance smiled, nodding towards the privacy of the throne room. “From what I gather from your letter, it looks like you’ve gotten quite well acquainted with it yourself, in your own way.” She gave a little giggle as they closed the throne room door behind them. Twilight couldn’t help but chuckle sheepishly herself as she invited Cadance to take Rarity’s seat at the cutie map table while she took her own. “What you did was quite brave, actually, Twilight.” Cadance said, giving her a grateful nod as Twilight poured out tea out of a service Rarity had prepared for their talk. “Ponies generally get introduced to the society gently with plenty of warning on what to expect before the actual visitor’s tour, much like how first time swimmers would wade into the shallow end of the pool with a guiding hoof. You, on the other hoof, have gone and leapt straight into the deep end with no life vest. Discovering the society for the first time is always a delicate matter. I’m sorry yours wasn’t the pleasant experience it was meant to be for newcomers.”
“Well, I guess my rushing my way into things didn’t help either.” Twilight chuckled sheepishly.
“Most often there is no replacement for firsthoof experience. Ponies have an easier time believing what they see for themselves.” Cadance nodded. “Unfortunately what you see isn’t always real, and that is certainly the case with the Society. Everything you saw the moment you walked down those stairs was make-believe, a game of pretend between consenting adults, one that can be stopped at any time with the use of a safe word.”
Twilight nodded. She had come to that conclusion as well, at the very least, but it was still good to have some confirmation. “So you’re a member of the Society as well, Cadance?”
“I am.” Cadance nodded. “In fact, I am something of the Society’s adviser. I help oversee the two Equestrian sites as well as the Crystal Empire site and sit on the Society’s worldwide board.”
Twilight nodded. She had already gathered that the scope of the Society’s operations was worldwide from that map she saw. “And they are all working together to maintain the Fires of Friendship.” She summed up.
Cadance looked impressed at her conclusion. “Correct. Or, as we in the society call it, the ‘Fire of Devotion’. I take it you figured it out when you saw it burning in the Cavern of the First Flame last night.”
“Is it the same one from the stories?” Twilight asked, her curiosity peaking.
“The very same.”
“Did it really drive away the Windigos?”
“Well, no, technically it didn’t. It gave ponies the power to fight back, armed them with its blaze and shielded them with its light.” Cadance’s expression turned serious. “Ponykind fought a valiant crusade across the known world, liberating all the other races from Windigo oppression, sharing the Fire with them and uniting the world against eternal winter.”
“But then why the secrecy?” Twilight continued on her train of thought. “If the Society is working to preserve the very thing that prevented the Windigos from returning, why must it do so in hiding?”
“That’s an excellent question, unfortunately one with a cumbersomely long answer,” Cadance said, “In brief, the Fire of Devotion is fueled by ‘acts of devotion’, ‘giving’ oneself in a relationship. While this occurs to an extent in love and even friendship, nowhere is it as marked as it is in the most extreme expression of ‘giving’, that is fetishized consensual domination and submission, as the founders of Equestria quickly discovered. But these acts have always been frowned upon, even during the post-unification era. Unicorns believed their race must bow to nopony. Absolute military conquest was core to pegasi doctrine. And Earth ponies were wary of being made to submit to the other tribes ever again. Despite their role in preserving the world, the Society and its members always faced prejudice and discrimination.
“Things took a turn for the worse when anything and everything connected to Aunty Luna became the object of persecution following the lunar rebellion one thousand years ago. That included the Society which was considered under Luna’s protection and patronage at the time. The Society went underground and has remained so since.” Cadance said with a grim look, “Today the Society remains in hiding to protect the privacy and discretion of its members. Plus everypony finds all the smoke and mirrors make it all the more exciting.” She finished with a giggle.
The scholar in Twilight was practically dancing on hot coals with all the information. For such a powerful magical artifact to still exist - Twilight’s mind raced with the possibilities. “So the Fire of Frien-...I mean, Devotion can share its magic with ponies?”
“We’re digressing.” Cadance observed with an amused chuckle. “But in answer to your question, any race can make use of the Fire’s power. That’s why every nation in the world has at least one Clocktower site of its own. You might recall the shield Shiny set up around Canterlot and the barrier I raised around the Crystal Empire. Those were both Fire of Devotion spells.”
Twilight had assumed the Canterlot shield was one of those top secret military-grade spell and the Crystal Empire barrier was Cadance’s own alicorn magic. She would have gone positively Want-It-Need-it at the revelation that it was all the product of an ancient magical artifact. That is, if only her mind hadn’t decided to go on a completely different tangent, one that involved mentally ramming her horn into a desk. ‘Cadance is a society member. Of course that means Shining Armour is too! Why didn’t I realize this sooner?!’ Twilight found herself idly wondering who ties up who before returning to ramming her mental horn against her mental desk in an effort to quash the mental image of her brother in a collar and Rosemary’s maid uniform. “Does that mean my BBBFF is….” Twilight left the rest of the question hanging awkwardly in the air.
Cadance only giggled pleasantly at that. “Now, now, Twilight, as much as I’d love to spend our rare moment together chatting away about Shiny, I think we’re straying further and further away from the issue at hoof.” She chided. “Now, you did mention that discovering the society has caused problems with your herd.”
“Oh, um, yes, that.” Twilight’s ears fell at the grim reminder.
“Oh, Twilight.” Cadance pulled her fellow Princess into a tight, sudden hug. “This is probably the first time you’ve ever hit a snag in a relationship, isn’t it? Well, in a way it’s a sign of your relationship maturing.”
“Uh, Cadance….” Twilight managed to squeak in Cadance’s vice-like hug.
“Herds go through rough patches all the time, Twilight. And getting through them together can toughen a relationship more than any amount of kisses and cuddles.” Cadance went on.
“Cadance, the problem I mentioned…” Twilight struggled to get a word in.
“I’m not just saying this as the Princess of Love, I’m saying this from personal experience.” Cadance went on regardless. “The whole thing with the changelings was a big hurdle and it took Shining and I weeks to work through that together. And trust me when I say the two of us have come out closer than in all our years of dating.”
“I trust you. But my problem is, I’m kind of interested in….” Twilight took another daring stab at speaking up.
“It takes communication, listening, and cuddles. Lots of it.” Cadance said, giving Twilight a quick demonstration with a squeeze. “I promise you there are no problems a loving herd can’t solve with calm, rational discussion. Your herd is no exception. Everypony simply has to sit down and listen.”
“The problem is IThinkIWantToBeTiedUpAndMadeDoc’sSexSlaveAndIDon’tUnderstandWhyAndI’mSoConfusedAndICan’tTalkToThemAboutItBecauseReasons!” Twilight seized upon Cadance pausing to take a breath and blurted her mind out all at once.
There was a pregnant pause. It gave birth to many more awkward little pauses. At least it gave Twilight enough time to actually listen to the echoes bouncing around the throne room.
‘Tied up and made Doc’s sex slave….sex slave….sex slave...slave....slave….’ The echoes bounced around like the dying wails of a horny book horse, mercilessly burning the words into her ears.
Twilight wished she could crawl into her tea cup and drown herself. Perhaps with the right mini-me-entirely spell calibrated to the tea cup’s dimensions she could do exactly that. But her guest had a different fate in mind. Twilight quickly found herself at the receiving end of a tight glomp straight to the heart.
“Oh, Twilight!” Cadance sent Twilight flying out of her fur, albeit not quick enough to escape her surprise-glomp. “That was the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard!” Twilight was very acutely reminded of the fearsome boa constrictors of the Amarezonian rainforests.
“E-eepp...G-glad...ulp...y-you like….agh...it….” Twilight tried to make herself heard over the sound of her ribs creaking under the rising snuggle-pressure. “C-Cadance, s-safe word thing! Safe word thing!” She croaked.
“Oh? Ah, yes, sorry,” Cadance giggled, quickly releasing her hapless captive. “You learn quickly, Twilight.”
“Th-thanks.” Twilight coughed, taking a sip of tea to clear her throat.
“So all you’re really worried about is telling Doc you want him to tie you up and make you his personal sex slave.” Cadance summed up neatly in the same tone one might use to comment on the weather or the coal prices in Zebrica. “The solution is simple. Just tell him you want him to tie you up and make you his personal sex slave.”
Twilight spurted her tea all over the cutie map. She hacked and coughed what little was left as she struggled to give Cadance a look of disbelief. She managed watery twitching at best. To her amazement she found Cadance was staring levelly back at her. ‘Sh-she’s not joking,’ Twilight gasped inwardly.
“What’s stopping you?” Cadence asked, simply.
“Wha-?” Twilight balked at the question. “Well, that’s entirely because it’s all so...so…” She stared at Cadance. She hadn’t stopped to even consider why it was so difficult to discuss in the first place. “...you know, wrong.” She finished lamely.
“Is that so?” Cadance gave a solemn nod, allowing them a moment of silence as she sipped her tea. She looked up from tea cup to give Twilight a look. “So, tell me, Twilight. What’s ‘wrong’ with wanting to be tied up and made a sex slave by your coltfriend?”
Twilight was thrown even more off balance. It was such a painfully obvious question. And yet the more she pondered it, the less certain she became. What’s wrong with wanting to do things like that with Doc, the stallion she loved? He was obviously partial to it. Hay, he’s the leader of a secret society devoted to such things. And she kind of, sort of, maybe, possibly, totally wanted it too. And what’s wrong with that?
“N-Nothing.” Twilight gasped as the answer struck her like the sudden opening of a heavy door.
Cadance smiled at her answer. “Indeed, Twilight, there is nothing wrong with wanting to share something special and intimate with your loved ones as long as it’s safe and you both want it.”
But Twilight’s doubts simply refused to be put to rest. “B-but, still, asking Doc to be rough with me, to hurt me, that’d be, well, horrible.” She shuddered at the thought.
“Twilight, honey, It isn’t horrible.” Cadance said, firmly. “It is simply asking a stallion to pleasure a mare he loves, something he too would no doubt enjoy. It is an act as innocent as cuddling and kissing your loved one.”
“But what would everypony else think?” Twilight murmured, uncertainly.
“There are indeed ponies outside who will try and tell you that it’s wrong, that it’s dirty, that you should feel guilty for expressing your love in your own way.” Cadance completed her thought for her. “But I promise you Twilight, on my honour as the Princess of Love, there is nothing wrong with ponies being more adventurous in their intimacy as long as it’s safe, sane and consensual. That is what the Society stands for - Making that, all of that, not only ‘not wrong’, but right. It is a place where you can openly express your desires and devotion freely without fear or shame. At the very least, it’s a place where you can do all that in secret.” She gave Twilight a mischievous wink.
Twilight blinked as she sat back, letting all that slowly sink in. “S-so there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be tied up…?”
“No.” Cadance smiled.
“Being made into a sex slave?”
“As long as both of you want it.”
“Being spanked on my flank until I scream?”
“Nothing wrong with that either, as long as you know to use your safeword if it gets too much.”
“To be ridden by doc like a wild mare until he breaks me with his big….”
“Yes, Twilight, that’s perfectly, absolutely, completely alright.” Cadance interrupted, her voice firm, her face the colour of a tomato struggling for self-expression.
“Oh.” Twilight’s face was a picture of either enlightenment, rosy arousal, or both. The door in her mind was open, if only just enough for her to squeeze through. But she could see past it, see all the possibilities that lay beyond. That guilt she felt in envying Tree Hugger, the twins and Rosemary melted away into a sense of jealous happiness for those submissives who had found the dominants they belong to. But she felt her heart fluttering at the knowledge that her jealousy would be short lived. The two ponies she knew she belonged with were already Society members.
The two ponies she belonged with….Doc and Rarity…
“Doc! Rarity! I-I need to speak to them!” Twilight gasped, realizing there was nothing stopping her from finally lifting the awkwardness hanging upon her beloved herd.
“Uh, Twilight? Don’t you want to know anything else about….?” Cadance’s question hung awkwardly in the air like the shower of sparkles left in the wake of Twilight’s sudden teleportation. “I guess you don’t.” She murmured awkwardly to her new friend, thin air.
“Oh, by the way, thanks, Cadance!” Another burst of sparks and Cadance found herself on the receiving end of a sudden hug. “My love to my BBBFF and my BNBFF! Sorry for rushing but I need to go tell Doc I want him to tie me up and make me his sex slave!” Another blinding flash of light and a shellshocked Cadance was once again left alone with her conscience.
“What….” Cadance quavered, her face a picture of horror, “....have I unleashed?”
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Rarity stared pointedly at the bread basket, willing it to show her some glimpse of the future, something, anything. Unfortunately all it told her was a future imminently devoid of breadsticks, all of which was being dunked into her coltfriend’s cup of coffee and left to sink to their soggy end. “Would you please stop that, darling?” Rarity frowned at Doc as he sought to drown yet another hapless breadstick.
“Oh, sorry, dear. I was just...living vicariously through our appetizers.” Doc murmured apologetically at the bread basket.
“You mean drowning yourself vicariously?” Rarity raised an eyebrow.
“That too.” Doc nodded, somberly. “I mean, I can’t use the sweet rolls. They remind me of her. So do the baguettes and the sesame buns. Even the sugar lumps and cream remind me of her.” He looked up at Rarity. “Maybe waiting at the Haybale wasn’t such a good idea. Everything here reminds me of her.”
“Darling, even the broomsticks outside remind you of her.” Rarity sighed. “It’ll be alright, surely.” She gave him a reassuring pat on the withers. At least looking after her lovesick coltfriend spared her from staring at the empty seat where their missing fillyfriend had sat just the day before. She bit her lip at the painful reminder.
It could have been her sitting down with Twilight to explain the intricacies of hardcore kink, discussing the sense of submission in having one’s safewords, sharing all her passions with her special somepony. She had had four months to make it happen. Four whole months! But what did she do?
Rarity growled at herself as she dunked a twirly cheese-stick into her tea cup, drowning it with vindictive fury. If only she could just turn back time to that moment four months ago when Princess Cadence summoned them both to her office, that titillating second when she and Doc were told of Twilight’s interest in their passion. She would do things differently. She would be open, honest, the ideal picture of the fillyfriend her beloved songbird deserved. She would, in Rainbow’s rather crass phrasing, grow a pair.
“We’ll do it right this time.” Rarity said determinedly, giving her coltfriend’s hoof a tight squeeze.
“I hope so.” Doc muttered morosely. “Because I’m running out of breadsticks.” He eyed the breadsticks consigned to the abyss of his coffee. “And I don’t think there’s a big enough bread basket for a ‘next time’.”
“There shall be no talk of ‘next times’, darling. Twilight’s heart is big enough for the both of us. And together we will do right by her.” Rarity said, determinedly.
“You always know what to say, dear.” Doc smiled, nuzzling his fillyfriend lovingly. “What would I do without you?”
“Silly question.” She booped him on the nose playfully. “You will never do without me, because we’ll always do everything together. Now, listen, when Twilight comes in through that door, we will…” She was just turning to face the door when she was struck by a sudden pause. “Twilight!”
“I like this plan.” Doc chuckled, watching as Rarity flung herself across the room so fast she set off a particularly impressive Sonic Rariboom in her wake.
“Oh, my dear beloved songbird, you came baaaAAAaaaack!” Rarity wailed as she struck the alicorn at the door with all the force of a bunny rabbit stampede.
“Ooof!” The impact blew all the wind out of Twilight. “Jeez, Rarity, I’ve only been gone a little more than an hour.” She giggled down at the unicorn clutching her chest.
“O-oh, is that how long it’s been?” Rarity looked up from where she had buried her face in Twilight’s chest fluff.
“Then it’s an hour too long, Twilight.” Twilight giggled softly at her coltfriend’s words as he pulled both his mares into a hug. “Especially when you’re telling the time with breadsticks.”
“It felt like ages. Oh, I’m so sorry for being ever so silly, I just…” Rarity stammered, nervously.
“It’s alright, Rarity.” Twilight giggled softly, curling her own hooves around her. “I know this has gone on far too long.”
“Wh-what do you mean, dear?” A touch of panic entered Rarity’s voice. Doc remained silent, though the sudden tension in his hug did not go unnoticed.
“I’ve decided.” Twilight said, her grin radiating nothing but confidence. “Doc, I want you to tie me up and make me your sex slave!” She declared.
Rarity and Doc could only gape at her in what may be disbelief, mayhaps abject horror, most likely both.
Twilight gave a soft pony-meep at the awkward silence. “Um, am I doing it wrong?”
Author's Notes: After much deliberation and backwards-and-forwardsing on my part about how best to undig the holes I had dug myself into unknowingly (which you all kindly pointed out for me), I have finally managed to put together what I think is a coherent attempt. I sincerely wanted this to be the best possible end-product it could be for you guys, hence the long wait. This was not without a lot of help and support from the wonderful people at Clocktower Society and all the proofreading, editing and general pushing along they did for me. I could not have possibly done it without them.
What's next? Well, now that the story's finally moving, we can get to the fun stuff of following Twilight as she discovers the society the way it was meant to be explored. Firsthoof clop, that is. You can also look forwards to a lot more extra Clocktower material in the form of more hot stories from other great authors. There's Razzle Dazzle, Extra Sprinkles by Double Rainboom and The Makings of a Songbird by Wendy Crescent if you haven't checked them out already. And there's even more on the horizon from Fimfic BDSM authors both veteran and new producing more CTS side stories as well as lore chapters and guest chapters. And if you haven't already, take a look at the CTS tumblr to catch up on all the art and other mini-vignettes too hot to post here.
See you all soon in the next chapter!

Welcome to the Clocktower Society, where here we take safety very seriously. As such I’m afraid I must welcome you, with news of the bad variety too. To put it simply we don’t wish to affect anyone’s sobriety, so drinks of that nature are forbidden entirely. Unclouded judgement is necessary to consent, and here it’s those dangerous decisions we want to prevent.
We zebras regularly put our concoctions to the test, so trust a zebra when she says ‘sober sex is the best’.
I am not just saying that to rhyme. Honestly, not this time.
Now that this bad news you’ve withstood, it’s time to talk about: the good. Clocktower Society makes more than a mare’s /proper/ food.Clocktower Society has found yet another call, to supply you brews far better than alcohol.
Clever Zebras at the Laboratories have refined old recipes to design non-alcoholic proxies.They achieve many effects, plenty of fun, but without the inebriation or addiction. Clocktower bartenders can mix many a drink and now offer a whole menu full of cocktails for kink. So allow them a chance, let them tease your senses, for they are truly part of your Clocktower’s experiences.
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Good drinks and good company, often one and the same at the Society
The following concoctions and delights are common to all the Clocktower sites:
Mixers
The following are simple drinks that can be enjoyed as they are, or used as a material in the many cocktails served at our bars.
Fireglow
Liquid joy, a clear gold drink, that you are sure to enjoy, your mood’ll never sink. It has a strong, euphorically fiery weight, much like the whiskies it seeks to imitate.
Stampede
The colour of dark red berries, this is bottled lust, carrying a strong and tangy musk. It is smooth, warm, light and fine, much like brandy in design. But this drink is much more: it is in fact--as long as you believe in it--a potent aphrodisiac. (Maybe !) A glass can light the dullest tinders into a raging fire, and cause flash floods in the driest mare’s desire.
(For your safety and comfort, you need not beware, though you shall feel a tingle of arousal, your thoughts and judgement this does not impair.)
Starbright
Imagine every touch, every tickle, every hold. With this drink you’ll find them magnified manifold. Envision the slightest caress creating untold shivers. If you wish to writhe in delight, a sip of Starlight delivers. A clear silver fluid, with a refreshingly fierce taste, a vodka’s whisper with which anyone would find their senses graced.
Buck
With a bittersweet taste somewhere between lagers and waffle, this deep walnut-coloured drink is sexual prowess in a bottle.
Dash
Holding the energy and clarity of caffeine without the withdrawal of coffee, this drink is a ticklishly bubbly clear fluid, like frothy champagne, the colour of light toffee.
Boulder
Sometimes calm, sometimes indomitable with courage to match, such are those who have partaken of Boulder, or some similar batch. It is a dark liquid the colour of plum with the stout flavour of well-aged rum.
Serene
Deep and smooth like aged amaretto port, tense nerves this doth soothe and comfort.
Deeptight
The bite of gin and a taste to match, a queer draught deep and flavourful, that will tighten one’s snatch, yet oddly easen invasion oral, vaginal and anal.
Big Apple
A tall cold mug of apple cider, to give a kick to your provider. Fills a stallion with extra seed in his sack, for a filly (or colt) upon her back. Worry not mares of the hour, this will more than moisten your flower.
Gold Medal
Chew while you think, or let it be merely a garnish. A poultice tasting of blueberries and mint, your drink it will never tarnish. It improves stamina for a stallion’s member, by quenching arousal to an ember.
Clocktails
Ever should your thirst arouse, do visit our Clocktail lounges and browse, our signature drinks, mixed fresh and full, for a day or night that will never dull.
Pina Bourgeois
A decadent drink, both rich and fair, made from fireglow, Zebrican pineapples, and the fresh cream of a mare, yet smooth, fresh, a velvety creaminess beyond compare.
Screaming Orgasm
Juices from a mare, freshly squeezed, mixed with dash boulder, and a jasmine’s breeze, this drink certainly lives up to its namesake, drinking this refreshing draught would not be a mistake.
Sadist’s Delight
A cruel brew of starbright, stampede and deeptight, guaranteed to excite a sub’s appetite, a liquid promise of a long and torturous night.
Liquid Lust
A shot of starbright, stampede and seed, an invigorating brew to precede the deed.
Creamy Pussy
A mess of mare milk, fireglow and marecum-seed squeezed, from a mare freshly done the deed, a drink often mixed and enjoyed in its namesake deep.
Maretini
Fireglow, fresh marecum, stirred and shaken with boulder, oft in a still-screaming drink holder.
Aftercare
Boulder, Serene and honey milk tea, a perfect way to reward your devotee.
Hat Trick
Big Apple, Boulder, and a sugar for the rim, filled with crushed Dash on an eager whim. Long and hard, a drink to handle, to let you outlast the evening’s candle. Burn bright and long the drinker will, and collapse after a single spill
Cuddlebug
One part Fireglow for hearty cheer, one part Serene for calm veneer. Shake, then mix three parts marecum and strawberry, and serve in a bowl or dish without tarry. A blissful treat for your obedient pet, best enjoyed before a fireplace set.
Royal Wedding
A questionable mix, this next little fix. Royal Wedding is its name, of which a certain feu is to blame. Two parts Serene, one part Deeptight, and chilled with cubes of frozen Starbright. A drink for two to last the night. The Serene calms the nerves after a hard day, while Deeptight readies each one for the lay. Even better is the frozen Starbright, to aid the evening's mating rite. It melts slowly as you enjoy the drink, to replace the liquor as it shrinks. The final sip lights a blazing fire, to ride your stallion's raging Spire.

Clocktower Training Manual
Assume the Position...if That’s Alright With You, I mean
By Fluttershy, Mistress, Pet, Pet Town Administrator
Oh, hello and welcome to the Society! I’m so very excited that you’re joining us that I can’t help but feel like cheering. Whoohoo! I would also like to thank you so very much for taking the time to read my article. I’m so sorry, I would have liked to train you in everything personally, but I’m afraid I can only hold one whip at a time.
But don’t worry, this guide is the next best thing, I promise. I really did my absolute best with it. I even bought some really good pets at the pet shop to model the positions for me. The poor dears worked so hard, but I made sure they enjoyed it. Every moment of it, I promise. As I’m sure you are going to love every moment of reading this guide.
If that’s alright with you, I mean. You don't have to! Reading consent applies, too. Oh, dear.
Important: This guide should not be confused with the ‘Breaking Guild Guide’ by Artisan Prime Gale and myself. That one’s only for extremely naughty ponies. You haven’t been that naughty… um… have you...?
(We can share.)
Credits
I am oh, so very thankful to slaves SP-0872, FZ-1920, and CH-9109 for modelling for me. The nervous little creatures were so frightened when I bought them for the occasion. You would have thought I was going to take them down to those breaking chambers. Aw, sweeties you all know Mistress wouldn’t do that.
Not often anyway.
What are Slave Positions?
While pets and slaves are absolutely adorable and cuddly and it's ever so nice to pamper (or encourage) them until they squeal, they are pets and slaves. A good owner makes sure to discipline their property or everything just gets so wild and unpleasant! If you want to be trusted with a sweet little toy, you need to start with strong foundations.
Some of the best start by making clear to the world around them, and, most importantly, to the owner and the pets/slaves themselves, that they are property. Well-loved (or not, if that's your preference!) or at least well-valued property, but distinctly, openly, and, well, blatantly property. If you don't start right, it all falls apart like an unfortunate series of Winter Wrap-Ups that I am still very sorry about.
Sorry!
That ‘slave/pet awareness’, that illusion, is like a nest; A nest you and your partners work together to build around your time together, to nurture it, grow it, shield it from reality. You can give it a firm foundation, build it out of good materials such as cute collars, heartwarming slave contracts, safe words, kisses, brutal fucks (Oh dear), cuddly hugs, rough throatfuckings (Oh… my…), and loving aftercare. Every little bit helps. Or it all falls apart and then there's the crying and the yelling and none of it is the fun kind. We try super hard not to let it happen like that.
That’s why I’m so very pleased to be able to talk to you about one of my favourite nest materials - Slave positions! Oooh, I’m so excited I could just break out in another really loud cheer! Yay!
Slave positions are the stances and poses a slave/pet can be trained to use, often at a given command from his/her dom. In training and carrying out these positions, the cute little subbie will develop good discipline and cheerful (or not, whichever is your goal) devotion towards his/her trainer, gain a sense of wonderful achievement in his/her training as a sub, and cultivate confidence and pride in both their body and their ability.
The dom will acquire valuable experience in training, gain a lovely sense of assertiveness and power through seeing their orders being carried out, and develop a deeper understanding of how their sub thinks and learns. Even better, this won't just enrich the roleplay immersion for the two, it will deepen the ever-so-important bond as dom and sub, letting them come together through routine training. And even after full mastery it can remain a routine that would be as sweetly intimate and familiar to the pair as hugging and even kissing (Oh my). Except it’s a lot more lewd and kinky. And it really turns heads at parties and auctions. And that’s alright. Really. Um, it really is quite nice, in fact.
I guess there are some kinds of showing off that are really fun. Especially with no scary cameras, thank goodness!
Not to mention there are so very many tasty things one can do to a pretty slave once they’re presenting their flanks like good little toys. Really, really nice things. All the things Rainbow Dash really likes, especially when she’s all tied up and…….
It's also a great starting point for really fun experimentation and collaboration with your partner! That said, while most subs and doms lucky enough to have partners often develop their own personalized set of slave positions and commands, many still at least practice the common set used around the Society. Practicing the common positions and their commands can be pretty useful in public – for example in pet shows, competitions, and auctions. It can be so exciting you just want to squeal even if it ends up, you know, more of a squeak. Really, knowing the common positions is often considered a measure of how well-trained a slave/pet is.
The following are the common set of positions and commands used around the Society. They are organized in increasing order of complexity, but they’re not too difficult really, promise. The beginner’s training class at the Trainer’s Guild even has a little song and dance for them. It is a nice song, put your left hoof in, put your right hoof out, clamp ‘em down and squirm all about! Everypony gets to moan and cry along, though it can get a little loud. Beginner pets can be such loudmouths, you know. Which is why the dommies among you need to be even louder. Your pet relies on you for guidance so you have to remember, it’s always good to be clear! Sometimes ponies say things, and a good little subbie will think it’s an order, and then they feel so silly for taking the pose and oh come here and give mommy Flutters a hug! So make sure to always be clear, and there’s nothing ever wrong with giving the verbal and hoofsie parts of a command.
While the positions here are pretty basic, it is still super important to tailor them to the sub and dom using them. Some of them might not be as useful to some, others might be difficult or painful due to ouchies or broken wings or things like that. So take what you like and make it yours. After all, this is your nest.
Position 1 - ‘Neutral’
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A good little subbie knows their rightful place, and that’s below their owner. Like any pet, their appearance reflects on their dommie, so they should look as pretty and elegant as possible, while being humble and subservient too. O-Oh! Don’t feel left out little slaves, this applies to you too. How you, the subbie, stands, shows off how good your Owner is at training you, so when not in another position you should try really hard to take this one. If that’s what you want, I mean it’s really up to you! But if you want to, the subbie’s head should be at about chest level, with their legs close together. Its also great practice for hobbling bars, which Dashie just love love loves! and it’s easy to keep the tail off to the side. That way everypony can see their pretty parts. If it’s not too embarrassing for you, that is.
Command
This is a slave’s default stance and a well-trained pet would assume it when not otherwise ordered. But it doesn’t mean a sub who doesn’t do this is a bad pet, not at all, no. There is no such thing. There are only two kinds of pets - those who get rewards, and those who need encouragement. And both are wonderful in their own special way. And at the end of the day, they both moan just as loud.
The command, if the cutie needs reminding, is ‘Stand’ or ‘Base.’ Well trained pets shouldn’t need reminding too often, but those that do have much better memories after some… encouragement. Most pettie-wetties are so much more friendly after a few very serious words and some time out on the Wooden Pony. With added vibrators and extra extra lube. Um, just don’t forget the seatbelts, safety is very important.
Hoof/Whip Signals
A single rising motion.
OR Two gentle taps upon the chin.
Position 2 ‘ Display’
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When ordered, the cutie will stand with their hind legs spread really wide and their tushie turned up. Really good petty wetties will remember to flag their tail, or tuck it to the side. Unless they want more encouragement.
For subbies and dommies just starting out, this is a perfect position to dive in with. It's super simple to take, but it feels just wonderful when you do it. Overcoming embarrassment, embracing vulnerability, and giving themselves to their dommie with every little inch they spread their legs! And for the dommie, it’s one of the best first positions to teach your cutie, because there’s so little to remember in the heat of things. It’s the place most subbies start with, and it’s great for building their discipline and pride in their natural beauty. Giving themselves to a dommie, so loving… There’s really nothing more beautiful!
Command
Display
Hoof/Whip Signals
A short sideways wave.
Two taps on the inner thigh.
Uses
Inspection and appraisal. A favourite at the auctions and markets.
Showing off your submissive
Allows for simple pony-style mounting.
A good position for any play involving the teats or genitalia that incorporates gravity.
Excellent position for milking
Good access to all rear holes for play and use
Position 3 - ‘Present’
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In this pose the subbie stands with their hind legs straight and spread way apart, raising their little tushie in the air with their tail aside for everypony to see. Unlike Display, this time the subbie drops their chest to the ground. This makes it so they can feel every little breath against the ground, their back arching to accentuate the beautiful curve of their spine, face pressed against the ground in worship. Holding onto the ground with their forelegs, bracing against the wonderful pleasures their dommie has in store for them!
Oh my, I’m sorry, I hope I’m not getting too intense.
Command
Present
Bow
Hoof/Whip Signals
A downwards wave.
Two taps to the head, then a press down
Uses
Much the same as ‘Display’.
Good access to all rear holes for play and use
Ideal position for flank spanking/whipping
Perfect positioning before applying a spreader bar
Rainbow Dash’s favourite position
Position 4 - ‘Discipline’
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This one’s almost exactly the same as the last, but not quite. The cute little subbie holds their forehooves behind their back, meaning they have to balance with just their chest. This can be really difficult for first timers, so don’t feel bad if you need to practice. It's really good for some kinds of bondage, and most hoofcuffs will have rings in just the right places. When a cute little subbie surrenders themselves, waiting to be chained up and fucked until they can’t breathe or think beg for more… It’s just so beautiful!
Command
Discipline
Hoof/Whip Signals
A more firm push to the crest or head
OR a downward wave followed by a stomp
Useful Tip: While there are a lot of positions with forehooves clasped behind the back, it is helpful to be able to order the subbie to do this in any position. The most common command for this is ‘Clasp’ and the hoof/whip signal is a tap on the withers/forehoof or a single hoof stomp.
Uses
Similar to ‘Present’
Good position for bondage
Ideal for ‘encouragement’
Rough rutting, for those feeling like a little spice

Position 5 - ‘Kneel’
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Did you know that the word ‘to kneel’ actually came from Minos? No, I didn’t either, at least until my minotaur friend Iron Will told me over a glass of Aftercare one evening. It means to lower oneself onto one’s knees, a minotaur way of showing servitude. Everypony uses it now, but we can’t really kneel down like they do. Instead the subbie lowers themselves onto their hocks with their legs spread wide. One of my best friends has been trying to get ‘hocking’ to take root, which I think is a bit cuter, but it hasn’t really taken off yet. So for now, subbies will just have to kneel.
Like I said before, when a subbie kneels they bend their hips and sit back onto their hocks, keeping their torso and head straight. Then they spread their adorable little leggies, balancing with their torso and forelegs put in front of them. This cutie, FZ-1920, is shown here doing just that. He was having so much trouble balancing that I had to give him something to sit on, but he learned really fast once the starbright in the lube kicked in. I’m so proud~
It does take some getting used to though, but it’s actually really comfy for most species! Because of that, and it being really cute when they tilt their adorable little heads, most dommies have their subbies sit like this when relaxing. Taking a walk through Pet Town, you’ll see plenty of pretty subbies waiting for their dommie like this, leashed to a post or by their side. Ohhh, it’s so cute when they rest their head in your lap, this is one of my favorites… T-Though I like them all!
Command
Kneel
Hoof/Whip Signals
Two taps to the chest and a press
A pressing-back motion with a forehoof
Uses
Receiving instructions
Reflecting
Waiting
Relaxing

Position Number 6 - Bare
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Once a subbie has mastered Kneel, they can move onto this position! It’s almost the same, but has the subbie clasping their hooves behind their back, proudly showing off their adorable chest and scritchable tummy. It does need really good balance, since not using your forelegs is hard. Because of that, a lot of subbies and dommies consider being able to do this a big milestone! As a point of pride, it’s sometimes used by advanced pairs as the normal kneeling position.

Command
Bare
You can also use the ‘Clasp’ command while the pet is in the kneeling position.

Hoof/Whip Signals
Two shoulder taps and a press back
A single tap on the forehooves/withers or a hoofstomp while in the kneeling position
Uses
Similar to kneeling
A good position for collaring

Position 7 - ‘Expose’
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This one’s very similar to ‘Bare’ but with the subbie holding their forehooves behind their heads or necks. A lot of subbies really like how they can really bring attention to their collars and padlocks and show off just who they belong to. Subbies can get possessive like that, you know.
It’s a really popular position for giving oral in clopflicks. Um, not that I watch that many, not when I can catch a good peep-booth show at the Society theatres anytime. Ah, not that I do that all the time either. Oh dear. Um, well, while it looks good for public shows in the streets and theatres, the giver does need to stand up on their rear legs a lot. Unless they finish quick, this can get awkward fast. Not that I’m speaking from experience, of course. Rainbow Dash is the fastest, after all.
Command
Expose
Hoof/Whip Signals
Press up on the foreleg underside, then tap the floor twice
Useful Tip: Like ‘Clasp’, placing hooves behind the head can be done in most positions. The common command for it is ‘Hooves on your head’ and the hoof/whip signal is two taps on the pet’s forehooves/withers or two hoof stomps.
Uses
For Leashing, especially with the cerberus leash
For any encouragement involving the teats
Position 8 - Pleading
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Doesn’t FZ-1920 just look absolutely adorable with his cute little hoofsies curled up in front of his chest just like the helpless little puppy pet he is? This one is an absolute must for pets begging for food, attention or other special favours from their dommies. Be careful, a subbie who gets really good at this can even manipulate their dommies with their irresistible puppy dog eyes.

Command
Beg

Hoof/Whip Signals
Two taps on the dom’s alternate forehoof
A single upwards motion on the pet’s chin
Uses
For apologizing
For begging
Position 9 - ‘Recline’
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Heehee, can you play ‘spot the difference’ on subbies? I’m really good at this game, you know. I can spot anything, from new hickies to a big row of tallies on a thoroughly-used rump. Um, but it might be rude to draw attention to things like that. So please don’t. Thankfully, the difference on CH-9109 here is very okay to draw attention to. See it? Yes, she’s now wearing an adamantite eternity collar instead of her usual black training collar! Her Mistress held an eternity collaring for her halfway through our week of shooting these pictures. What do you call it when you cheer while sobbing? A Squob? Sorry, I’m not so sure, I’m squobing so much right now.
Um, I’m so sorry, I’m getting carried away again. I’m such a loudmouth. This position is called ‘recline’, though I think whoever named it had a rather mean sense of humour. You see, this pose is normally used to position subbies for disciplining their very exposed teats, tender bits, thighs or chest. The subbies would lean back while kneeling, holding themselves up by their forehooves, pushing their chests out and raising their rumps slightly as if offering themselves to up to their dommies. It takes a lot of courage and discipline to hold this position knowing what’s coming next. Whippings are nice.
Command
Recline
Hoof/Whip Signals
A downward, sideways gesture followed by two taps.
A backwards pull upon the slave’s withers

Uses
Excellent position for any form of play on teats/clit/cock/pussy, especially whipping
For showing off your Master’s favorites
Position 10 - ‘Crawl’
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What an adorably humiliating sight you are, slave SP-0872. SP-0872 spends most of her days at the society as one of the Merchant Guild’s prize milk cows, getting her teats squeezed dry regularly on one of their big, cruel, erotic milking machines. Oh my. Um, so I do have a point, and it’s not bigcrueleroticmilkingmachines. You see, SP-0872 is very used to being made to crawl like the livestock she is, lowering herself to the floor, supporting herself on her rear thighs and coronets, using them to raise her adorable tushie as high as she could. She holds up her front using her forearms, keeping her posture while crawling about, making sure to keep her flanks raised and her tail swept to make sure nopony misses her livestock-branded rump swaying as she crawls. You’ll notice that she’s keeping her legs spread wide as she crawls, showing off her precious bits for all to see. This isn’t very easy and most pets train for quite a while before they are able to do that. So well done, SP-0872. Who’s a good marecow? Yes, you are. I think you deserve a little reward in my shed later, don’t you?
Crawling is pretty popular in both the slave and pet community. Pet Town is the best place to see pets at their crawly best. Oh, I could just sit on a bench there all day, watching the adorable little pets crawl along after their dommies on their cute little leashes.
Um, I don’t get jealous. Not often anyway.
It is very tiring exercise for even the most experienced subbies. In fact they all end up needing a good loving wash and scrub in their pet tubs after they’re done. Beginners should be slowly eased into it. As much as everypony likes the idea of a ‘good long pet walk’, pets must first learn to crawl before they can walk. A good trainer should let their pet show off how much they can do at the start before slowly pushing their pet harder over weeks of regular exercise.
Be very careful of low-hanging clamps, rings, jewellery and weights. Stallion subbies with particularly, um, large equipment and mares with larger teats should be careful not to allow their tenders to scuff the floor. Not too often anyway.
Command
Crawl
Hoof/Whip Signals
None.
Uses
Long term pet training
A particularly degrading form of locomotion for slaves
Position 11 - Down
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There is nothing better than being in your place at your dommie’s hoofsies, looking up at them with adoration and hunger.
Um. Okay, maybe having your dommie take hold of you by your mane and using you roughly in this position might possibly be better, especially when they pull on your leash, hold your muzzle steady and brutally throatfuck you….oh my. Um. Um. But I’m not choosy, really. I wouldn’t want to impose, especially when I’m not wearing my collar.
But it would be nice.
I’m sorry slaves SP-0872, CH-9109, did that get you two wet? You see, in this position, with them low to the floor and their tushies raised high, their rear legs spread wide, you can easily admire your subby’s precious bits and appraise them for arousal, as you can see here with how SP-0872 and CH-9109 are staining the training mats. Did I give you two permission to make a mess? What naughty little pets. Oh, you’re so adorable, but I’ll still have to discipline you.
Command
Down
Hoof/Whip Signals
Turning the hoof from up-facing to down-facing.
A single tap on the slave’s lower back.
Uses
A good position for oral sex
Easy position for mounting
Position 12 - Spread
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Don’t they just look absolutely adorable with their forehooves spread eagled, their underhooves turned up for you to enjoy? They just look really helpless with their faces pushed down against the floor? Yes, that’s right, lick it all up, clean up every last drop with your tongues. Oh, they are such good little pets, I might even reward them. I might tie their little hoofsies spread out like this and encourage FZ-1920 to mount them and rut them silly with his cute little slavecock.
Um.
Oh, oh, no, no, FZ-1920, I said to mount them and rut them silly. I didn’t give you permission to cum in them now, did I? Bad colt. Aw, I was just saying how good you all are and you start dripping all over the floor again. I’m sorry, it’s my fault, I wasn’t thorough enough in disciplining you. I will fix that, if that’s alright with you that is.
Command
Spread

Hoof/Whip Signals
Turning the hoof from up-facing to down-facing followed by a single wave downwards.
Two taps on the lower back.

Uses
Similar to ‘Down’
A pet in this position can expose all of his/her underhooves for their dom’s viewing pleasure

Position 13 - ‘Atone’
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Now keep your forehooves clasped behind your back like that while you reflect on what you’ve done. Not that they really need to be told that, not when the position alone tells them they’re in trouble. Aw, look at the poor little dears, they’ve already resigned themselves to their fates. It’s almost heartbreaking to have to discipline such adorable little pets. Now now, be firm, Fluttershy. It’s what you’d want from a dommie too.
Command
Atone

Hoof/Whip Signals
Turning the hoof from up-facing to down-facing followed by a single downwards stomp.
A tap on the lower back followed by a tap on the withers/forehooves.
A single downwards stomp or a tap on the withers/forehooves while the slave is in the ‘Down’ or ‘Spread’ position.

Uses
Similar to ‘Down’ and ‘Spread’
Preparation for bondage

Position 14: Entice
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You see, they really are good pets deep down inside. You can see how much discipline goes into spreading their cute little tushies wide apart to allow the bud of their tailholes to stretch and tease, knowing full well I’m about to encourage their puckered tight little ponuts. You can almost see how sorry they are for being such bad pets.
Um, well, you can imagine they really are sorry deep down underneath those excited drooling grins. Well, these barbed dragon dildos should be able to reach that far down, I’m sure. Now, raise those rumps high for your encouragement, my dears. I know, I know, you poor things, this hurts me as much as it will hurt you.
Command
Entice

Hoof/Whip Signals
Turning the hoof from up-facing to down-facing followed by a sideways sweep.
A tap on the lower back followed by a tap/slap upon the flanks.

Uses
Preparation for anal play

 

Position 15 - Bloom
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Oh, I’m ever so sorry it took so long to get on with writing this. We had to have a little pet timeout. Somepony naughty ended up making even more of a mess during their encouragement, not to mention a certain misbehaving colt peeped from his cage and clopped, adding even more to the mess. Oh, it just makes me want to punish somepony. Oh, um, but not too harshly. Tying two ponies to each other and dunking their rears in a pool of starbright stimulant isn’t too harsh, is it?
What do you think, SP-0872? Aw, you’re such a good pet. I’m so glad SP-0872 is such a good marecow slave. If she had to go in the starbright pool with the others I wouldn’t have had anypony else for this photoshoot and would have had to put on my own collar. There’s a reason I had to quit modelling for Photo Finish, you know. Just remembering how I used to soak my dresses, I, oh, oh my. Um. Well, it’s good we have well-disciplined SP-0872 here to show you how to ‘Bloom’.
The pony who named the pose must have had a really vivid imagination but the way SP-0872 lies on her back with her rear hooves spread wide open like blooming petals revealing the hidden nectar within really makes you think of a flower just waiting to be fertilized.
Because of how popular and iconic the name is, all of its variants have just been left unnamed and left to adaptive commands such as ‘Clasp’ and ‘Hooves On Your Head’. In a way that’s a good thing as it has made ponies a lot more creative with this position.
Command
Bloom

Hoof/Whip Signals
Turn hoof over from down-facing to up-facing then motion sideways
One tap on the belly.

Uses
A good position for inspection, appraisal and general appreciation of what the pet has to offer
Excellent access to the pet’s thighs, nethers and teats for any sort of play/discipline
Easy mounting for the so-called missionary position
Can easily be converted into bondage with a spreader bar/strapping the forehoof cuffs to their rearhoof counterparts
Position 16 - Box/Belly-Rubs
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My, SP-0872 has a real talent for looking adorable, doubly so when she’s lying like that with her rearhooves raised high up and spread wide, her forehooves curled up over her chest. Triply so with her sore little tailhole twitching and gaping with recent use.
SP-0872 is very used to this position. In the slavery circles she belongs to it is called the ‘Box’, partly because it’s nice and compact, but mostly because it is the most iconic position for the proportion of slaves who undergo ‘shipment’ at the auction houses and Merchant’s Guild. SP-0872 gets auctioned and shipped around quite often, you see. A prize marecow’s life can be quite busy. It’s not the only position used to pack slaves for shipping, of course, but it’s certainly the most recognizable.
Now many ponies will argue really, really loudly that the pet community is very different from the slave community. Um, maybe. But that has nothing to do with what I’m talking about. Nothing at all. I’d rather talk about how our cute little pet, Sepia, is demonstrating pet position number 16, ‘Belly-Rubs’, where she rolls onto her back and kicks her hoofsies into the air while I spoil her with a well-deserved belly-rub.
Hm? You think she didn’t change position at all? Um, I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Command
Box/Belly-Rubs

Hoof/Whip Signals
Turn hoof over from down-facing to up-facing then motion in a circle
Two taps on the belly.

Uses
Similar to ‘Bloom’
Good for belly-rubs
Also commonly used for slave shipping and gifting
Position 17 - Surrender
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Here SP-0872 embodies the very name of this position, ‘Surrender’, as she slowly spreads herself wide, giving herself up to the whims of her dommies. As an experienced slave, she knows very well how this position gives her precious little defence against assault to any part of her body, precious little modesty, and provides good sexual access especially if a bolster is placed under her hips. A bolster like this one. Yes, get comfortable, SP-0872. Aw, good pet. She’s ever so obedient, even though she knows what follows position 17. Just look at her. Doesn’t she look the perfect picture of the willing, eager subbie, helpfully spreading herself for your use? Isn’t she just so sexy and irresistible you can just jump her right here and now?
Just mind her tailhole. It’s probably still a little sore, I think. I didn’t hurt you, did I, you poor sweetie? No? Oh, I’m so relieved. Yes, you can go ahead and use her tailhole too. Be sure to use her mouth to lube up first though. Lube is very serious business. Especially if you plan to fit all of it in there.

Command
Surrender

Hoof/Whip Signals
Turn hoof over from down-facing to up-facing.
Three taps on the belly.

Uses
Similar to ‘Bloom’
Position 18 - ‘Clean’
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This is what makes SP-0872 a prize pet, one of the reasons the three of them costed me such a fortune to buy for this photoshoot. She’s so well-trained that she’s still able to take on the ‘Cleaning’ position even after she’s taken dom after dom, her cute tight holes left ravaged and gaping, her adorable little body fucked silly until she is, well, uh, um, fuckedsillyohmypleasedon’tmindme. Um, as you can see, she’s lying on her upper back and withers, raising her legs high up over her head, spreading her legs wide, bringing her used foalhole as close to her muzzle as possible.
While the position has as many uses as you can imagine, its name comes from how it is most commonly used to allow the slave to drain cum from her holes straight into her mouth and lick herself clean to make sure she doesn’t waste even a single drop of her dom’s precious cum. As you can see, aside from the fact that this fetish might not be everypony’s cup of tea, it’s not a very easy position to do, let alone maintain. As a result not all dommies and subbies make use of this one. Which is a pity, because I think SP-0872 looks adorable like this.
Command
Clean

Hoof/Whip Signals
A spank upon the nethers followed by a tail pull.

Uses
In this position a slave can easily drain/clean her/himself out
It also allows him/her to simultaneously offer her mouth to clean off his/her Master/Mistress
Also allows for conventional play/use of the slave’s mouth, pussy or anus.
Position 19 - ‘Wall’
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Do you know what it’s like to have your rump marinated in starbright? Oh, it’s alright if you don’t. I wouldn’t drag you down to my shed just because you couldn’t answer my questions. Not unless you want me to, of course. Then you’d get to find out exactly what it feels like. Like FZ-1920 and CH-9109 here. You see how much they’re quivering? How they’re struggling to keep their tails aside to avoid having even one errant hair graze their sensitive fur? How they whimper from even a single breath of air against their cutie marks?
I wasn’t going to discuss position 19 as it’s not really considered part of the common set of training positions. But it has become very popular ever since Cosmic Colours’ CTS movie, ‘The Makings of a Songbird VII’, featured a particularly erotic wall bondage scene. So since I was going to punish two certain someponies, I thought I might as well show you.
Now, up against the wall you two. Please hug the wall like it’s all the support you have in the world. If that’s alright with you, I mean.
Command
Wall
Hoof/Whip Signals
Pointing a hoof to a wall
Pushing the pet up against a wall.
Uses
Preparation for bondage
Reflecting on one’s behaviour
Most forms of play

The message arrived on a Sunday morning, not by dragon mail, falling star, sinister whispers, or even a measly messenger pigeon. It arrived in an unmarked envelope via signed express courier with instructions to deliver it directly to the hooves of Princess Twilight Sparkle at Our Royal Grace’s Astoundingly Sparkly and Massively Immense Castle of Friendship.
Twilight was still struggling to get the local council to approve a formal name change, or at the very least ban the use of the acronym. Unfortunately things have a tendency to get in the way, ‘things’ being ‘giggles’.
“What is it, darling?” Rarity asked, joining her at the door as she closed it behind her. She considered seeing her herd sister in her bathrobe with her mane and tail in curlers in Twilight’s own home a rare treat, one only afforded by every other resident of the ORGASMIC-F castle being away. Luckily, Starlight was accompanying Maud to a rock concert in Saltlick City for the weekend while Spike had set off for summer camp with the Cutie Mark Crusaders.
“Oooh, it’s....” Twilight was bubbling with excitement as she opened the envelope. Her giddy enthusiasm slowly gave way to an accusing frown as she flipped the letter back and forth before turning it upside down. “...a blank letter.”
“Oh,” Rarity seemed to tense up like a wound spring. “Well, it must be a letter from the Society. They do have this penchant for making everything secret and hush hush.”
“Is it invisible ink?” Twilight’s horn lit up, casting black light on the parchment. Her frown deepened as the letter remained irritably blank. “More like stubborn ink.”
“You need to touch an ID badge to it to be able to read it,” Rarity said, offering her own, “You can use mine seeing as you don’t have your visitor badge with you. Normally you’d be told this during your introduction, but I suppose yours wasn’t exactly what one might call ‘normal’, dear.”
“You carry that around everywhere?” Twilight asked.
“Oh, yes. It can be quite convenient to have around, as you can see.” Rarity nodded. “Now, shall we go on and find out what the fuss is all about?”
Words glowed to life across the parchment at a touch of the badge. Twilight couldn’t help but give a little squee of excitement. Now it was starting to feel like a secret society. “Oooh, it’s…” She skimmed through the letter as they made their way back to the council room. “My super top secret registration with the society.” She dropped her voice to an excited whisper. “It’s on a Tuesday morning.” She seemed to consider this for a moment. “It must be a very top secret Tuesday morning.”
“Oh, darling, the way you say it makes it sound downright clandestine.” Rarity said. Her voice trailed off uncertainly into a frown. “Songbird dearest, um, did you ask Princess Cadance to make you that registration appointment?”
“Hmm? Well, no, this kind of thing happens automatically, doesn’t it?” Twilight said absently as she studied her letter. “You know, all my reading on the subject tells me that members in these kinds of secret societies get inducted and trained into willing sex slaves the very night they discover the evil organization.”
“Do remind me to review your reading list, darling. Mayhaps I shall find some new fantasy we can, ahem, indulge in,” Rarity gave a dainty giggle at Twilight’s brilliant blush. “But no, the Society is a reputable establishment. Some procedure and decorum is to be expected.”
“Less rope, more checklists, got it.” Twilight chuckled. She had suspected that all her reference material on sex slavery was either out of date or not entirely founded on accurate data. It would appear one does not simply get tied up and made into Doc’s B.S.S.F. (Best Sex Slave Forever) overnight.
“Oh, to hear naughty wit from such innocent lips!” Rarity gave a dramatic sigh. “Whatever happened to my dear, sweet, pure little Twilight?”
“This really sweet and loving unicorn mare did.” Twilight giggled, smirking at the revenge-blush on Rarity’s cheeks. “Speaking of, I’m hoping that sweet and loving unicorn mare might be able to come with me to this appointment? It’d be nice to have somepony knowledgeable with me.”
“Oh?” Rarity blinked, seemingly preoccupied with her own thoughts. “Ah, I’m afraid I won’t be able to, dear. Loved ones, herd members, partners, anypony with an interest in seeing you join can’t accompany you for your registration. They need to be certain that nopony’s coercing you into joining, you see. It says so on your letter.”
Twilight gave an uncertain little nod, feeling a touch of apprehension. It didn’t last very long as she was greeted by an overwhelming fragrance. And overwhelming puns.
“Good morning, my butter halves,” Doc looked up from the dining room table. “Would you like to ketchup over some waffled eggs benedict. Omelette you both carry on with your entree while I prepare a toast. And once you’re egging for more there’s nuttin butter than finishing with my peanut butter pancake donuts.” It was difficult to look any more mischievous, even with his apron that said ‘Cereal Griller’.
“I miss the medical puns already.” Twilight deadpanned, struggling not to cringe-giggle.
“Why did we fall in love with this hopelessly adorable binoclard ringard again?” Rarity chuckled, giving the colt a fond peck on the cheek.
“Oh, he grows on you once you get past all the….you know, come to think of it, there sure is a lot to get past.” Twilight giggled as she joined her herd sister in flanking their stallion with a kiss.
“Donut take me lightly. I ham simply eggstatic to show you two, my dear ladies.” Doc grinned, ushering them both to their seats.
Twilight didn’t care much for being treated like a princess by other ponies. But the way Doc would offer her plates stacked high with crunchy haycon-wrapped hash stuffed in waffle-baked egg buns, there was something about it that not only made her feel like a queen but also smile like a silly little filly. While his constant ploy to spoil her rotten was normally subtle, all pretenses seemed to fly out the window when Doc got his hooves on a frying pan. Granny Smith had told her once that one cannot trust a stallion who can bake, and Twilight couldn’t help but believe her after seeing Doc’s flamboyantly sacrilegious approach to deserts in his infamous cookie-taco sundae. It had been downhill ever since, and Twilight enjoyed every inch.
“So, my super secret Twi-spy network caught mention of a letter.” Doc said as they began demolishing their way through desert.
“It’s my registration appointment.” Twilight paused in between bites of pancake and clotted cream to levitate her letter over to Doc.
“Did you….request the appointment, dear?” Rarity asked.
“I didn’t. I’ll look into who organized it, hon. Who knows, it may have been Princess Cadance.” Doc smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “More importantly, Twilight.” His gaze softened considerably as he turned to face her. “This might be a little soon, considering everything you’ve gone through.”
“Indeed, darling. I know you’ve said you’re keen, but there really is no rush,” Rarity said, “If this is a little too soon for you, you should say so. It’s perfectly normal to consider things for a while. Why, some ponies take weeks before attending their introductory tour, maybe months before they go ahead and register.”
“If you really want, we can even start at home first, take things one hoof at a time.” Doc nodded in agreement.
Twilight gazed into the eyes of her herd, seeing nothing but the deepest love and concern for her. What they said made perfect sense. She could hold off, learn to wade in an inflatable pool in the yard before going out to the ocean. But as knowledgeable and experienced as Rarity and Doc are, it wasn’t very easy to ask things as simple as ‘How does the Society make its lube out of marecum?’ Her books were quite obviously either out of date or factually inaccurate on the subject of ‘enslavement poles’. And while she was lucky she was able to ask Cadance some of the more pressing questions, she had a feeling her former foalsitter may not be comfortable answering questions such as ‘What is that floaty, happy feeling slaves get when they are degraded into cum dumps?’
If she stayed in the bedroom, she might learn a thing or two, or three about herself. But she would never have learned that other ponies enjoy it too, that she wasn’t a freak for secretly enjoying it, that it was normal and common, that there was an entire framework of safety and consensuality that a whole community of like-minded ponies follow and a lot of other things. And there was a whole lot more she wanted to learn, those submissive mares and the feelings she experienced through them, the different ways they express their love for their dom, the Fire of Devotion, the bottles of marecum lube and enslavement poles, everything.
There was no way she was going to discover all that in a bedroom. She needed to be able to talk openly with ponies like Tree Hugger, Lilac Sky, Spring Step and Rosemary. She needed the other side that the Society provided, the community of ponies, ponies she’d be able to study, learn from, discuss with.
Not to mention that if she was going to do this with Rarity and Doc, she wanted to do it right. And so far no book in her library had been very forthcoming on the art of singing around a colt’s stallionhood, at least not in a technical sense.
“I’m alright.” Twilight nodded confidently. “I want to do this. I used to think it was wrong for me to want this, that was before I learned that what I witnessed firsthoof was a bigger community of ponies who share in this, that it is not wrong, that it is normal. I want to learn even more from them as much as I want to learn from the two of you.” Twilight gave a sheepish little smile. “If that, um, makes sense?”
Rarity and Doc shared a glance before breaking out in relieved smiles. “My songbird, my princess, whatever you heart desires, I shall stand by your side and make it so.” Rarity said, slipping out from her chair to pull her herd sister into a loving hug.
“We’ll be there with you this time, Twi. We’ll learn together, one hoof at a time.” Doc joined in hugging his two mares close. “Hay, you know what? We should celebrate. Shall I orange a date and….?” The precious moment was thankfully saved from his puns by swift and liberal application of shut-up via a sudden threeway kiss from both his mares.
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Twilight had imagined a meeting under the veil of night, hidden away in the shadows of some dark cave, with a ritual involving arcane chanting and a Pinkie Promise.
She certainly wasn’t expecting this.
She double and triple-checked the address on the sheet of paper. Yep, this was the place, alright.
Apparently joining a big society steeped in millennia of secrecy involved coming to number twenty-two, Sweet Maple Avenue, Ponyville at 10 in the morning on a Tuesday with her visitor’s badge. And this adorably quaint thatched cottage surrounded by flower beds was apparently where the Society’s secret recruiting agent for Ponyville lived.
She couldn’t for the life of her remember who lived there. Considering her princessdom was so small one couldn’t lie down without a passport, Twilight realized there really was little excuse for not knowing. It would have been nice to at least have some hint at who her recruitment agent was.
She would have looked at the back of the note to check for a return address, but having served its purpose, the note in her hoof dissolved away in a shower of sparkles. Twilight had expected it to warn her of its impending self-destruction. At the very least it should have spontaneously burst into flame. But all she got were a few anticlimactic sparkles and a whole lot of disappointment.
‘Well, the recruiter might be some ancient guardian spirit who has watched over the Society since time immemorial. Or an evil spirit of kinkiness with an eye patch. Or Cranky Doodle.’ Twilight thought, chuckling nervously to herself as she knocked on the door to the cottage.
“Oh, hello, Princess Twilight.”
Twilight gaped in abject horror. The door had opened to reveal something much, much worse.
Twilight squirmed on the sofa. It didn’t help that it squeaked awkwardly beneath her. Her eyes darted about in panic – from the freshly-baked almond biscuits, to the tea set printed with cute kitty paws, to the emerald candle burning on the coffee table, to the half-finished painting of a smiling flower in one corner of the neat little living room. This had to be some kind of entrance exam, an initiation ceremony, maybe even a form of cruel and unusual punishment. And there, sitting across from her, pouring her tea, was her judge, jury and executioner.
“Oh dear, it would appear the parasprites got into the sugar supply again.” Rosemary murmured, peering down at the empty sugar pot in her magical grip.
’This must be the first test. It must be some kind of secret Society code. If I can figure out the reply...’ Twilight gulped. “U-um, I-I d-dont need s-sugar in my sex. I-I mean, t-tea! A-all I want is a hot cup of sex-...tea!” She groaned as she mentally banged her head against the desk of her soul. Forget flunking her exam, two seconds and she had already come across as some kind of sex addict. This must be some kind of Society record.
She resigned herself to her fate, wondering whether or not she could redeem herself in whatever the Society’s equivalent of magic kindergarten was. Her despair was interrupted by a soft giggle.
“Oh my goodness, Princess Twilight,” Rosemary giggled into a forehoof, “You don’t have to try so hard to make me feel less nervous.”
“Wha-...?” Twilight blinked. Did she somehow fudge the answer to her test?
“I guess it just comes naturally to the Princess of Friendship. I’m a little jealous of how easily you put ponies at ease,” Rosemary said, “I want to do better, too. That’s why I moved to Ponyville and took up this job helping with applications for the Society. I never dreamed I’d be the one to recruit the Princess of Friendship herself, though. I was so nervous!” The cream-coloured unicorn gave a nervous chuckle.
“T-Thank you,” Twilight nodded uncertainly as she accepted her tea cup. She wasn’t sure what was going on but it would appear she was in the clear for the time being. Rosemary didn’t seem to be aware that she had spied on Wind Waker tying her up, turning her into his personal cum urinal and savaging her tailho-.......that thing that happened in the public cum dumps the other night! Twilight blushed brightly as she mentally batted the image out of her head. What relief she felt came with a cartload of guilt. She bit her lip as it gnawed at her, not allowing her to settle down. The friendly unicorn had been so earnest with her that Twilight couldn’t help but feel she owed her the same at the very least. She took a deep breath, drawing up what courage she had left. “I’m sorry I was spying on you when your coltfriend was tying you up turning you into his personal urinal and savaging your tailhole in the public cum dumps the other night!” she blurted out.
Twilight could only shut her eyes tight, willing herself to drown in the squeaky sofa. But to her surprise, she heard a giggle, Rosemary’s. “Oh, you saw us during your introductory tour? Heehee, I’m glad I helped convince you to join then, Princess.” the unicorn trilled cheerfully, much to Twilight’s surprise. “I’m ever so grateful for what you did for us at the village. Nothing would make me happier than being able to help Princess Twilight herself, even just a little.” She gave Twilight a heartfelt smile.
“Oh, um, I’m glad... and U-um, please c-call me Twilight,” Twilight said uneasily, for want of anything else to say.
“Thank you, Ms. Twilight.” Rosemary smiled sweetly before frowning ever so slightly at Twilight’s obvious discomfort. “Oh, is the candle making you feel uncomfortable?” She nodded at the emerald candle burning on the table. “Please bear with it just a moment longer. I’ll blow it out shortly.” She smiled with the barest hint of nervousness. “I’m sure you’re a very busy pony Ms. Twilight, so I’ll try not to take up too much of your time. Doctor Horse and Ms. Rarity told you about the non-disclosure agreement, didn’t they?” She said, magically levitating a pile of documents over to Twilight’s side of the coffee table. Twilight nodded silently as she leafed through the papers. Normally, prospective members would sign them before being allowed in on the secret existence of the Society. “Doctor Horse tells me Princess Cadence herself waived you through the normal secrecy procedures,” Rosemary said, “But he wants to make sure you’re fully covered on paper. That includes having your signed agreement on file. Just to remind you, this is a magically-binding agreement to keep everything you know about the Society a secret. It’s very important for the privacy and safety of our members that everypony agrees to this.”
Twilight’s magic teased apart the spellwork on the documents. She gave a soft gasp at the layers of complex chantwork and circleweaving built into the spell. She knew from experience that few unicorns in the history of Equestria were capable of weaving a spell this complex – Starswirl the Bearded being one of them.
She blanched at the thought. Considering how old the Society is, could Starswirl the Bearded have been a member?
Satisfied that the spell did only what it said on the tin – cause a strong compulsion to prevent accidentally giving away the Society’s secret and notify the Society if one lets the manticore out of the bag – Twilight took a quill from the table and signed. “Thank you, Princess. Here’s your copy.” Rosemary passed half the documents to her. “Now, let’s put out that candle. It’s done its job for now.” She blew the emerald candle out before putting it away.
Twilight nose-scrunched, catching a faint aroma of cheese as the fumes dissipated in the air.
Rosemary giggled at the face she made. “I suppose the Clocktower Guard wouldn’t mind if I shared the secret now that you’ve signed your agreement. That was a changeling candle. The flame mimics changeling fire, magic very similar to the Fire of Devotion you’ve seen burning in the cavern. It flares in sympathy to nearby changelings. I guess I owe you an apology, I was checking to make sure you weren’t a changeling trying to infiltrate the Society.”
“You use it to detect changelings?” Twilight gasped in amazement, her unease forgotten. “The Canterlot Circle of Mages has struggled to produce changeling detection spells for ages! The best they managed were disguise-dispelling spells.” She looked between Rosemary and the candle. “The Society has this kind of technology? Why haven’t they shared this with Equestria?”
Rosemary’s face turned a little grim. “Not all changelings are bad. Many of their hives are allied with the Society worldwide. They get to feed, in return they provide us things like transformation fire magic. They helped us develop these candles in response to the Canterlot invasion. In fact, they’re all at war with that evil one, whatshername, who invaded Canterlot. They were the ones who tipped us off on the invasion ahead of time. We can’t give away the secrets behind these candles without giving away our allies. Imagine if every changeling living peacefully in our society were suddenly ousted?”
“But…” Twilight trailed off into silence. Rosemary made a great deal of sense. But there was just something about it that didn’t sit well with her.
Rosemary seemed to notice Twilight’s unease as she was quick to reassure her. “Don’t worry. Ever since the invasion, our changeling allies have been working closely with Clocktower members in the Royal Guard. They are able to pick out hostile changelings better than any candle can. And no need to be concerned about the changelings in the Society either. They all wear identifying badges, a little gesture of goodwill. You’ll get to see for yourself after you’ve joined. Now, speaking of joining...” Her horn lit up with what Twilight recognized to be a levitation spell. She heard the telltale tinkling of unicorn magic carry something through the air. She stifled a little gasp as she saw the large, dark-burgundy box float over in Rosemary’s magical glow.
It was nondescript yet elegant. While the box could easily hide in a corner of a room, it also commanded attention and respect when sat out in the open. Twilight couldn’t help but wonder if that was intentional as she inspected the seemingly innocent box. Its top was almost featureless, but for an almost-invisible circular groove on the front. A glimmer of recognition struck her as she realized it was the perfect size and depth for the visitor’s badge she had been given. Rosemary’s smile widened as Twilight pulled her badge out, confirming her suspicion. Feeling a hint of excitement, she slipped the badge into the groove with a smooth ‘click’. A single bell toll filled the room as the badge glowed bright, turning into a clock face as the outline of a clocktower magically traced itself around it in golden filigree.
Twilight couldn’t help but hold her breath as the box bloomed open like a papercraft flower. The contents within rose like a pop-up book into a glowing miniature clocktower, its clock face bearing what looked like a new Society badge, one slightly bulkier and more richly engraved than her visitor’s badge. At the foot of the tower sat two books in velvet bindings, one a very rich red, the other a handsome black. Their front covers bore circular grooves similar to the container’s, but were otherwise perfectly plain. It took all of her self-restraint to stop herself from picking them up and flipping them open for the table of contents.
Rosemary giggled, noticing her excited fidgeting. “Go right ahead, Ms Twilight. They’re yours. This one contains your personal copies of the Society’s guides on everything from safewords to plug sizing.” She waved at the red tome.
“Really?!” Twilight gasped, grasping the red volume in her magic enthusiastically, before giving a sheepish little pony squee at Rosemary’s amused smile. Seeing no blurb on the back, she instinctively flipped the book open. Her excited grin quickly turned into a frown as she leafed through the book, finding nothing but mysteriously blank pages. ‘Is this a misprint? Or is it….’
Twilight almost slapped herself. She was dealing with a secret society after all. They weren’t about to allow the guide to their secrets to be read by just about anypony. She looked between the box, the new badge and the groove on the book’s cover and put two and two together. A rush of exhilaration rose like a twittermite swarm as she magically lifted the new badge off its pedestal and slipped it into the groove on the front cover. There was another satisfying click, the badge glowing and lighting up yet another cunningly-concealed Clocktower logo on the cover.
“Got it in one, Ms. Twilight. I had a feeling the puzzle-solver in you would enjoy the challenge.” Rosemary gave Twilight a knowing smile.
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The badge itself swung open like a pocket watch to the tinkling melody of a musicbox. To Twilight’s surprise, a teeny pair of see-through hooves reached out of where the clock face would be, followed by a ghostly little pony the size of a breezie. It was accompanied by a high pitched, squeaky little yawn. “Hawaa~hn. Oh, hello, welcome to Clocktower Society!” The lavender little apparition chirped up at Twilight. “Where your Safeword is—ack!” Twilight winced, watching the ghostly little figure flailing helplessly as its ethereal flanks got caught in the badge’s rim.
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“Is this….a book sprite?” Twilight said, recalling the small artificial familiars often crafted by Canterlot librarians to manage book cataloguing. She had been far too spoilt by Spike to require any help with cataloguing herself, though she has found other uses for it — Such as spyin–keeping an eye on her student on dangerous friendship missions, yes.
“It’s meant to be your personal Society kindlesprite. It looks more like a stuck sprite at the moment. I didn’t know this new edition can even climb out of its housing.” Rosemary frowned down at the struggling little sprite. “I hope it doesn’t mean it’s glitchy. This was meant to be Mr. Jet Set’s latest speech-enabled version.” Twilight raised an eyebrow at the mention of Jet Set’s name before deciding it was excess paranoia on her own part.
She reached out to give the little apparition a hoof. It unwedged itself with a soft ‘plop’ and a very grateful squeak. “Thank you, !”
“What’s your name, little one?” Twilight asked the little creature.
“I am your very own brand new PipSub! Though you are very welcome to name me something else, !” The sprite said, fluttering its little pegasus wings.
“PipSub?” Twilight asked.
“Personal Issue Pocket Society Utility Badge, PipSub for short. That’s me!” The sprite replied.
“Also known as a ‘SUB’ among members,” Rosemary explained, “And yes, it was first created back when most ponies wore pockets.”
“So at least a few centuries ago?” Twilight studied the tiny spectre with renewed fascination.
“More than that, I think. It started out as just a plain ID badge. But, being made out of some kind of special crystal metal thing, it was very easy for members to customize and add their own bells and whistles. I heard even Meadowbrook and Princess Luna tacked on a few thingies. It’s gathered so many thingymabobs and whatsits over the centuries that it’s probably a little bit more than an ID badge now.” Rosemary said. “PipSub, pull up the cum dump equipment manual.” She nodded down at the sprite.
“Yes, ma’am. Loading the ‘Cum Dumpsters Plumber Guide by Lyra Heartstrings. Happy reading~” The sprite dove back inside the badge embedded in the book cover.
‘Oh, Lyra,’ Twilight giggled inwardly. Somehow she felt there was no way somepony she knew being a member of the Society could surprise her now, considering the trend. Rosemary leafed the book open and, lo and behold, the text and pictures had magically materialized on the pages. Very racy pictures of mares – no, ‘cum dumps’ – tied up in various ways, ready for their doms’ use.
“Can I possibly interest you in joining the cum dump guild then, Ms. Twilight?” Rosemary smirked teasingly at Twilight’s wide-eyed blush.
“Oh, yes, best cum dump mare fore-.....huh, wha? Oh!” Twilight blinked, before giving Rosemary a sheepish pony-squee. “Wh-what I meant to ask was, the manuals here appear to be made for mares. Aren’t there submissive stallions as well?”
“Oh yes, there are a few submissive stallions at Clocktower Equestria East, but traditionally most of them prefer Clocktower Equestria West, the site in San Franciscolt, simply because it’s where the majority gathers. And vice versa. Kind of like how a coffee enthusiast might find one coffee stand at a tea convention, but would have more luck at a coffee expo.” Rosemary explained.
“I see.” Twilight nodded, recalling the Society’s worldwide map and the marker on San Franciscolt. For some reason the thought of a dungeon full of collared stallions appealed to her. She made a mental note to broaden her reading for the night, just a little. “There’s a guide to the West site on here too?”
“Oh yes. PipSub, pull up the introductory guide to CEW for Ms. Twilight.” Rosemary ordered.
“Yes, ma’am. Loading ‘Clocktower Equestria West San Franciscolt, Home of the Clocktower Colts’ by Night Light, with preface by Mistress Twilight Velvet.” The badge on the cover chirped.
“As you can see, the PipSub can interact with any device that has a PipPoint, these grooves here — Such as this enchanted book. Other things it can connect to include your hoof cuffs, dom crests, certain doors, your locker at the Society, that sort of thing. It can…..Ms. Twilight?” Rosemary looked down to find Twilight faceplanted in her coffee table, seemingly intent on burrowing a hole into it and hiding forever. “Ms. Twilight, I can assure you it doesn’t interface with my coffee table.”
“Huh, Momstress wha—?” Twilight rose up as bleary as a badger in daylight. “S-sorry, I-I was just...contemplating.” Specifically about the possibility that the pony known as Twilight Sparkle was conceived in a secret stallion slave training facility in San Franciscolt – but Rosemary didn’t need to know that she was having an existential crisis there and then. “Where were we?” Existential crisis postponed.
“How about filling in your registration form? Then you can name me while you’re at it.” The PipSub suggested, enthusiastically. “You don’t know how excited I am about all that paperwork! Hint: Very.”
“Oh, uh, thanks, PipSub?” Twilight winced at the name. “We totally need to get you a new name.” ‘“Source of all existential crises” being a top candidate,’ She added quietly to herself.
“Don’t thank her yet.” Rosemary smiled impishly as she levitated over the black tome. “At least, not until I’ve helped you through this application form.”
“Is the form in here?” Twilight asked as she took the book into her hooves.
“No, Ms. Twilight, that is the form.” Rosemary said, watching Twilight’s expression intently. Rosemary’s expectant look turned into one of quiet disappointment at the alicorn’s lack of reaction. “Ms. Twilight, most ponies either surrender unconditionally, faint dramatically or both upon seeing our application form. Could it be, you’re an entirely new class of masochist?”
“W-what? N-no!” Twilight gasped, “I-I mean, I’ve seen bigger and thicker ones!”
“Ms. Twilight, I don’t know whether to be awed or scared,” Rosemary chuckled, slipping Twilight’s badge into its groove on the registration tome. “I suppose we’ll find out when we finish filling this in.”
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Twilight carefully studied her B.S.S.F. to-do list. It had been nearly two weeks since she completed her registration with Rosemary but there were still a lot of items left to tick off between ‘registering’ and ‘getting tied up and made into Doc’s sex slave’. While ‘Dark Dalliances’ had gone into great detail about how a mare may be methodically broken into a cum-addicted sex toy devoted to worshipping stallion cock, it and all the other books she had read had entirely skipped the essentials such as attending a health checkup at Ponyville General, the long series of orientation classes, and existential crises.
She took a slow, deep breath and counted to ten. ‘No, it’s alright, Twilight. Finding out that your mother wrote the Safe Word guide for mare subs is perfectly alright. It only means the pony known as Twilight Sparkle could have also been conceived in a secret mare slave training facility in Ponyville. Now you could deliberate your existence out of a choice of not just one but two potential crises! And it doesn’t matter because you won’t be able to look either of your parents in the eye forever and ever!’
“‘Ponder existential crisis’ isn’t scheduled until Wednesday afternoon, Twilight.” The little kindlesprite poked her head out of the open badge sitting on the cafe table. While she could easily pass her off as a book sprite, Twilight was still extra careful about where she allowed her to show herself. The Haybale Cafe’s private tea rooms were, surprisingly, one of many ‘safe houses’ for Society members when meeting outside the Society, as she found out from Rarity. Apparently the cafe makes excellent business being Ponyville’s choice public hotspot for Society members. As it turns out, so was Ponyville for the rest of Equestria, by virtue of being the closest settlement to Clocktower Equestria East. In fact Twilight had learned from Rosemary that she and many others chose to move to Ponyville for that exact reason. Who would have thought that, of all the towns for her to settle in, it would be the one with the biggest concentration of kinky ponies?
Surely it was a coincidence? ‘Nope, don’t need more existential crises, not until next Wednesday.’
“Oh, um, yes, thank you.” Twilight blinked, quickly pausing and filing away her existential crises for Wednesday afternoon.
“Are you happy with the rest of your to-do list, Twilight?” The sprite asked.
“Well, ‘happy’ will be getting through it by the end of week, Bell Chime. Still, thank you for putting it together for me.” She smiled down at her new assistant for all kink-related matters. While Spike would forever be her number one assistant, there was no way a baby dragon was going to schedule her collar-measuring for her.
She could practically hear imaginary-Spike’s snarky remarks, ‘Heh, think I should schedule two days for the leash? It needs to be long, very long.’
“Well, ‘happy’ for me is doing what I can to make your stay at the Society as pleasant and pleasurable as possible!” Bell trilled, tilting her head to one side. Ever since Twilight had loaded her registration into her PipSub’s spell matrix and formally christened Bell Chime, the little sprite had been nothing but eager to help with absolutely everything. “If you want, I can show you a recommended Society reading list based on what you’ve read so far, starting with ‘Singing to Your Master’s Cock and the Art of Deepthroating by….’”
“Y-you don’t have to, ‘k, th-thanks!” Twilight squeaked.
Perhaps a little too helpful.
Still, there was something about going through the motions of joining a kinky society, an odd sense of empowerment. For a mare who had always been in the dark when it comes to romance, always following her herd’s lead, it felt like she was finally going out and doing something really daring of her own in pursuit of love. It was a big, courageous leap, one that left her overflowing with leftover confidence in herself. It felt like having gone this far, she could do anything.
“Oh Twilight, songbird darling, I hope I didn’t make you wait too long. I simply did not expect that mare to haggle at a charity bazaar. Charity! The nerve of some ponies!” Graceful chaos entered the private tea room in the form of Rarity, storming way ahead of the harried waiter struggling to ‘lead’ her to her chair. An empty art bag was unceremoniously deposited in an empty chair before Rarity flumped into the one nearest Twilight. The defeated waiter made a token attempt at trying to push her chair in and offering a napkin before sagging out of the room to take a well-earned ice break.
Rarity’s flustered entry gave Twilight enough time to compose herself, mostly in the form of pushing all thoughts of singing around Doc’s cock out of her head. Feeling her newfound daring well up, Twilight leaned in and gave her herd sister a playful peck.
“And when I kindly pointed out the proceeds were going to the homeless changelings, she—….” Rarity’s voice died away, her face turning the colour of the princess of love. “S-S-Songbird d-dear! Y-you….” She gasped.
“Hello to you too, Rarity.” Twilight somehow managed to pull off a smooth delivery in spite of the triumphant excitement bubbling within her. “I’m sorry to hear you had such a bad morning.”
“N-n-nu, nu b-bad, ver’gud.” Rarity quickly cleared her throat theatrically. “A-ahem, all the better for seeing you, darling.” She smiled, her rosy cheeks more radiant than Twilight had ever seen. “My, my songbird has become especially bold since I saw her last. Filling in that ghastly registration form with Rosemary didn’t… break you somehow, did it?” Rarity frowned, cupping Twilight’s cheek to look her in the eye.
“Rarity, I’m fine!” Twilight giggled.
“Detecting no mind-altering magic in effect!” Bell Chime chirped helpfully from where she sat on Twilight’s withers.
“See?” Twilight smiled.
“Oh, this must be the new edition PipSub model. Isn’t it just darling?” Rarity cooed, petting the little sprite. Bell Chime purred happily under her touch. “Oh, Twilight, nopony has been able to get their hooves on one of these yet. You’ll be an absolute trendsetter at the Society!”
“Rarity, meet Bell Chime. Bell Chime, my herd sister, Rarity.” Twilight said.
“I am ecstatic to meet you, Ms. Rarity. I detect you are carrying an older model PipSub. I recommend you upgrade and transfer your kindlesprite to my model soon.” Bell Chime said. “Twilight, would you like me to register Ms. Rarity in your contact list under ‘herd’, ‘switch’, ‘anal sex instructor’, horn….”
“Anal ins-... I-I mean, h-herd is fine, Bell Chime!” Twilight squeaked, snapping her badge shut, causing Bell Chime’s form to dissolve into thin air. “Eheh, I’m still working things out with her. Sorry.” She murmured sheepishly.
“Oh, ah, don’t mind me, Twilight, darling.” Rarity murmured, awkwardly.
“Uh, well, um, where were we? Oh, right, I don’t blame you for worrying about the registration form.” Twilight chuckled awkwardly as she subtly changed the subject. “I haven’t filled in a form that detailed since my application for my insanely-high-energy-magical-research license.” Twilight said, pouring her herd sister a cup of tea before adding a sugar and a touch of cream, just the way Rarity liked it. “Everything from my name and gender identity to nationality, and even a declaration of any previous criminal incarceration in any dungeon, statue, dimension, or celestial body.”
“To think they weren’t even asking about your kinks yet.” Rarity giggled infectiously. “Oh, yes, the Society is nothing if not absolutely anal about safety and security. That said, even the likes of Discord was allowed to join, so it’s all ‘case by case’ I suppose.” She rolled her eyes diplomatically.
‘Not. Even. Surprised.’ Twilight deadpanned inwardly. Nopony, not even a draconequus chaos god, could top her parents for top surprise Society member. “I wonder what Discord put down for that part on ‘occupation’ and ‘proof of household earnings’.”
“Oh, well struck, Twilight darling.” Rarity gave a most unladylike snigger. “Well, if ‘best princess’ is an acceptable entry…” She gave Twilight an eyebrow.
“Hey.”
“You do know it is absolutely true, darling. Come, argue it. I. Dare. You.” Rarity smirked, stealing a victory nuzzle that only flustered Twilight further. “In all seriousness, though, it’s all about sex and kink being addictive. Shirking responsibilities is one of the first signs of addiction, so they say.”
“The question then, is what is Discord addicted to?” Twilight mused out loud.
“Oh, Twilight, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had some sort of grudge against the draconequus.” Rarity giggled. “As for ‘what’, well, you and I could hardly imagine ‘who’.”
“Wait,” Twilight blinked, “You can’t mean….”
“Oh, don’t you worry, Twilight dearest, our dear friend is more than capable of handling her own. She is one of the Society’s most prominent switches after all.”
“Huh? But...wha...?” Twilight felt an eye twitch dangerously. “Are we talking about the same pony?”
“Yes, we are talking about Red Heart, are we not?” Rarity’s smile was brimming with mischief. The two very quickly broke down in giggles at Red Heart’s expense.
“Oh, Rarity, you really shouldn’t. I won’t be able to look Red Heart in the eye when I go for the Society health checkup tomorrow.” Twilight giggled. “Still, I’m kind of impressed with how thorough the Society is with health certification and everything.”
“In case you trip over any red tape lying around, I suppose.” Rarity smiled. “Still, in all seriousness, darling, I agree it is reassuring to know that the Society works to prevent any risk of disease or injury to anypony.” She glanced curiously at the pile of papers lying beside Twilight’s guide book and PipSub. “Oh, what are you working on now, Twi dearest?”
“Oh, this?” Twilight carefully shuffled the papers together to show her herd sister. “This is my application for a temporary collar, you know, the one we need to get down to the dungeons the first time. It was funny how the least unexpected thing on that registration form was whether I was a sub, dom or the other stuff.”
“HwhaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAaaaat?!” Rarity practically shrieked. “O-oh, I’m ever so sorry for my outburst, but these temporary collars are positively ghastly! Arguably something as beautiful and profound as a collar should be fashioned in finest haute couture. I’ve been asking prince dearest to allow me to raise our collar standards to at least tolérable couture if nothing else, but the Society can be a little stubborn about progress.” She rolled her eyes with practiced grace as she crumpled up the collar application form into a humbled ball. “No, no, no, my dearest, most beloved, most cherished songbird must not have to suffer this insult.”
“But even if I were to visit one of the better collarsmith boutiques, I still wouldn’t know what to look for in a quality collar. It wouldn’t make a big difference either way.” Twilight pointed out.
“Ah, but Twilight dearest, you are looking at your salvation from absolute fashion disaster!” Rarity beamed.
“A crumpled ball of paper?” Twilight looked down at the ball in Rarity’s hooves.
“No, Twi dearest, me! Your princess!” Rarity practically wailed in despair. “I am a Society-approved collarsmith! I ask, nay, demand the honour and privilege of crafting your collar for you. I insist!”
The crazed glint in Rarity’s eyes told Twilight the unicorn was ready to do more than simply insist if she dared say anything other than ‘yes’. Daring as she felt, she wasn’t about to risk it, at least not without re-reading what the safewords were. “Um, yes?”
“Waa-haa-Haa-haaaaaa!” Rarity gave a laughter-cry of triumph before quickly lifting a napkin up to save what little grace she had left. “A-ahem, I mean, ideaaa.” She said, in a more collected tone. “I already have the perfect collar in mind, one worthy of the Princess of Slaves. I should get to work on it as soon as possible. Do you know what collar coding you will be needing, dearest?”
Twilight gave Rarity one of her rare deadpan looks and pointed down at the crumpled ball of paper.
“Oh.” Rarity eyed the paper ball as if it were the Element of Awkwardness. “Uh, yes, I, um, was just hoping to find inspiration in the creases.” She gave Twilight a watery smile as she smoothed the form back out. “I’ll borrow these if you don’t mind then, darling?”
“I don’t think Rosemary would be impressed if I submitted a paper ball anyway.” Twilight chuckled. “Thank you, Rarity, I’m so glad you’re my herd sister and nopony else.” She swooped in for another daring surprise hug, earning her a squeak from the ensnuggled unicorn. The whole daring romantic thing was coming more and more naturally to her.
“I love you too, songbird dearest,” Rarity cooed, seemingly surprised at Twilight’s hug but happily so, returning it with a tight one of her own. “Oh, look at the time,” she murmured distractedly, releasing Twilight to pull a quietly humming object out of her own saddlebags. Twilight recognized it as Rarity’s own member badge, almost indistinguishable from her own. She flipped the cover open with her magic, her expression thoughtful. “It’s my alarm for the meeting. I was simply worried I would get caught up in that charity bazaar.”
“Thanks again for accompanying me for this meeting, by the way, Rarity.” Twilight said, gratefully. “I already have twittermites in my stomach with you next to me, I think I’d be a wreck without.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, songbird darling. Oh, my dearest Princess is finally meeting her Society mentors! Oh, oh, I-I-I think I’m having a m-moment….” Rarity hiccupped into a napkin. Twilight did a quick, cursory glance around the room in case she might finally get her chance to solve the mystery of where Rarity keeps her emergency drama couch stashed. “Oooh, I’m fine, I’m fine.” Rarity waved a forehoof frantically. “Just...just relax, Twilight dearest, they are nopony scary. Everypony at the society gets four mentors, two subs and two doms, two of whom are ponies you’ll be close to, two others near-strangers, so you’ll have a mix of approachable and impartial ponies to talk to if you run into any problems. They are always very nice ponies, so you have absolutely nothing to worry about. Alright?”
“U-um, Princess Twilight, Ms. Rarity, I-I hope I’m not interrupting?” There was a knock on the door. “Your, um, g-g-guests have arrived,” the familiar voice of the waiter announced, an unmistakeable shiver in his voice.
“Nothing can flap Maitre’D, not even that one time he became very accidental collateral in our struggle against that bug bear,” Rarity whispered.
“Collateral? You stuffed him in Pinkie’s party cannon!” Twilight hissed back.
“All is fair in love and war. Speaking of love, my point stands. Whatever unnerved Maitre’D is…..oh, oh, it’s coming in!” Rarity squeaked as the door slowly creaked open. “D-D-Don’t w-worry, songbird dearest, I-I’ll protect you!”
“Agreed. Worry not, friend Twilight, We too shall join Rarity in protecting thy rump from all that might threaten it.” The Night herself slouched blearily into the room before promptly collapsing into a chair. “After We awaken, mayhaps bathing in a blessed cup of coffee. Or ten. Friend servant, make it thus! And ensure Our privacy with thine own life if thou must!”
“P-Princess Luna?!” Twilight and Rarity couldn’t decide whether to stand up from their chairs or bow and opted for faceplanting onto the table and corkscrewing their horns into the wood.
“Twilight, please, We….I am thy Society mentor of superior approachabilityness, not to mention thine equal in princesshoodibility. And it is too early in the day. As such, please dispense with the headbanging. ’Tis a sore upon mine poor ears,” Luna muttered, burying her own face in her crossed hooves. “And move that dratted sun out of Our face, friend servant!”
“Y-yes, y-your highness. R-right away!” The normally cool and collected Maitre’D made to scamper out of the room.
“And three orders of cinnamon nuts and peanut butter crackers while you’re at it.” Another lofty voice stopped Maitre’D at the door. “Psst, add it to the Princess’ tab.”
“A mere three orders of nuttiness is too paltry a sum to grace the tab of the Night! Friend servant, make that ten!” Luna barked.
“No.” Twilight whispered softly in horror.
“It can’t be—” Rarity mouthed.
“Now, excuse me, the Great and Powerful Trrixie is now a mentor to a new and important pony of status worthy of Trixie’s attention. Trixie wasn’t even aware she knew anypony of the sort, but such things often do escape the attentions of ponies of as much greatness and powerfulness as Trixie.”
Twilight curled up into a little ball, silently willing herself to drown in the cup of tea before her. But not even that afforded her any escape from a reality where Trixie Lulamoon was her Society mentor.
“Oh, hello, Twilight Sparkle.” Trixie’s voice unfortunately sat itself just opposite her. “Trixie is so glad you have come to witness Trixie being appointed mentor to somepony important enough to justify the great and powerful Trixie’s precious time and attention! Witness Trixie, Twilight! Witness her while we wait!”
Twilight felt a little part of her whimper as it died a slow and painful death.
“Friend Lulamoon, dost—do you read?” Luna asked.
“Hmmm?” Trixie blessedly paused.
“The act of ridding ignorance through partaking of the written word, ‘reading’, friend Lulamoon, do you do it?” Luna demanded.
“Th-that is beneath Trixie’s significant talents—”
“Then indulge us. Tell me, prithee, did you abase yourself in any ridding of ignorance through partaking of your mentor briefing?” Luna asked, pointedly. “Do you even know the pony you are to mentor henceforth?”
“T-Trixie is certain a pony...worthy of...Trixie’s...attentions will be... obvious, so—” Trixie’s voice withered away into the ether under the all-consuming weight of the Night’s own intense attention. “I-I-I’d r-really like to read, p-pretty please.” A PipSub-locked tome bound in white velvet materialized in front of her in a flash of blue magic. “Th-thank you, y-your highness.” She levitated her own badge out of her hat and inserted it into the lock on the cover.
“This way, Cherry. I’m mostly sure this is the right ro—” A steel gray earth pony stallion with a uniquely minty mane froze mid-step at the door at the sight of the public unicorn grilling, his expression one of a deer caught on a collision course with the moon.
“Good, because we are so dead if we—” A small dark lavender pegasus sporting a cherry-red mane ran into the stallion’s hind legs. “What the hay, Sip?! What’re you—oh.”
“This—” The stallion seemed to put a lot of effort into swallowing the desert that was his tongue, “—is the wrong room. A very wrong room.”
The pegasus dropped her voice to a deathly whisper. “Sip, no sudden moves. If you stand there, I might be able to use you as cover and not die.”
“Ah, art thou the cover pony? Most excellent!” Luna boomed. “Be a champion unto the realm and position thy posterior yonder where thou mightst valiantly shield Our complexion from yon sun! Our gratitude shall come bountiful and plenty!”
Rarity could only bury her face in her hooves as the poor stallion sidled over to the seat by the window to receive careful degree-by-degree correction from Luna until his form properly eclipsed the Princess of the Moon.
“And thou, loyal guardspony!” Luna barked at the poor little pegasus.
“F-former,” the pegasus squeaked.
“Loyal former guardspony, We have reserved the best seat in the house for thee! Come! Plant thy hindquarters next to Ours!” Luna rapped a hoof on the chair next to hers. The poor little pegasus eyed the chair with dread typically reserved for dungeons or a broken Pinkie promise. “Huzzah, now our merry company is complete!”
“I—Trixie is mentoring Twilight Sparkle?!” The moment was interrupted by dawn on planet Trixie. “T-Trixie knew that,” she quickly added, narrowly averting an apocalyptic eclipse.
“Capital. Now that we are on the same page—” Luna glanced down at Trixie’s reading, “Or at least page one—” She treated Trixie to another withering look. “Let us commence this meeting by introducing ourselves. We—I mean, I may be somepony else outside this room, but here I am Luna, your equal in our efforts to guide our new member. I have been a member of the Society since before it was even called the ‘Clocktower Society’, so long enough. I am a submissive-leaning ’switch’, as you call it today – emphasis on submissive. I welcome any and all questions and matters in being a submissive and, shall we say, managing one’s dom.” She pulled her own Society badge out of a hidden slot in her peytral and placed it on the table, tapping it open. The device lit up, projecting her Society registration into the air above it.
“Nopony could possibly not know the Great and… um… humble Trixie.” Trixie peered up at Luna to check for approval. “Trixie is a dom-leaning switch. I guess I could kind of help you if you’re worried about anything regarding your dom.” She carefully closed the mentor’s briefing book to tap the PipSub locked to its cover, allowing it to open and show her own Society registration.
“I seem to be a sunscreen,” the earth pony stallion said.
“Do not sell thyself short, good stallion. Thou art a most excellent sunscreen. I have not had to complain about the sun for a whole ten minutes!” Luna exclaimed.
The pegasus gave the stallion a sharp nudge to his ribs. He returned it with a look that might not curdle milk but at the very least quietly disapproved of it. “I’m honoured to meet you, Princess Twilight, Ms. Rarity. I’m—”
“Sip,” the pegasus supplied for him with a cheeky grin.
“—Silent Pride,” he muttered, deciding to turn his anti-pegasus scowl up to ‘milk-curdling’. “Though, yes, you may call me ‘Sip’ if you wish.”
“Only if you call me ‘Twilight’,” Twilight said with a friendly smile. “You too.” She nodded at the pegasus who beamed back. “And...you.” She deadpanned at Trixie.
“Yes, I know who you are, this briefing is very clear on that,” Trixie muttered without looking up from her paperwork. “Gasp, oh, you’re a princess?! Now Trixie certainly didn’t know that!” The sarcasm was so thick Twilight could probably cut through it with her horn if there wasn’t somewhere else she desperately wanted to stuff it..
“Can I go on now?” Sip muttered in Trixie’s direction. “I’ve been a member of the Society going on ten years now. I’ve made all the beginner mistakes so you don’t have to. Let’s see, I should also mention I’m a dom. So like this lady—” He looked as if comparing himself to the loud unicorn next to him was a questionable life choice. “—I am happy to be approached if you are ever worried about anything dom-related, or otherwise.” He pulled his own PipSub out of his saddlebags.
“And I’m Cherry Stellar!” The bubbly pegasus’ jubilant declaration ended in a slight lisping tic, putting into mind the twittering of a bird. Her size and fluffiness only served to cement the image of an excitable little bird.
“You look a lot like the default kindlesprite,” Twilight said before she could stop herself.
“I was wondering about that myself, Cherry. Now that somepony else has gone and said it—” Sip leaned in.
“Oh, yeah, that. You see, I model for a lot of things at the Society. In fact, it’s easier to just show you.” She pulled out a rolled up poster from her saddlebags and unfurled it on the table. Everypony took a look, before slowly leaning in and finally staring, quite intently, at the pin-up.
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“That...is a show alright,” Sip murmured, shifting a little. “You seriously carry these everywhere?”
“It makes Society introductions so much easier.” Cherry grinned.
“Trixie is not jealous,” Trixie asserted, unconvincingly.
“This is for sale at the society, I gather?” Luna asked, innocently.
“Anyway, somewhere along the line they decided to style the guide mascot after me, y’know, ‘K.C.’, ‘Kink Cadet’, the pony you see on all the guidebooks,” Cherry explained, “The kindlesprites kind of followed on from that. I am also the —bullet points — greatest, cutest, most awesome, most dashing, most dote-worthy pony you’ll ever meet. New paragraph….” She giggled, watching as Twilight diligently took notes on a napkin.
“Hay, all of that applies to Trixie! Trixie demands you correct that offending napkin!” Trixie called out.
“I’m also best submissive ever,” Cherry went on, pulling her own badge out from underneath a wing. “I am a crystal bell slave and I’m in every guild ever. I might not have millennia of experience, but I know a thing or two about subbing.”
“Is that all?” Trixie smirked, “Well, not too bad for a filly, I—”
“I also survived the Quiet and the Artisan Prime of the Breaking Guild himself. Unscathed.” Cherry tweeted softly.
Silence fell upon the room at the mention of those-who-must-not-be-mentioned. The sun relieved the sunscreen Sip by hiding behind a cloud. Trixie, Rarity, even Luna peeked cautiously at the door for any telltale shadows sweeping in to spirit ponies away to the rumoured depths of the mysterious breaking chambers.
Sip only rolled his eyes at the theatrics.
Twilight felt like she missed something, even as the submissives and switches in the room all looked at Cherry with a mixture of both awe and concern.
“Ahem, well, moving on swiftly,” Sip was the first to rally, waving a hoof at Twilight and Rarity. “Would the two of you like to give a brief introduction?”
“Thanks, Sip. Well, you all probably know me better than I do now after all your reading—” Twilight deadpanned at Trixie, to which Trixie only mouthed, ‘bite me’. “—But I’m the new pony, Twilight. I guess I’ve decided I’m a submissive. Uh, and, well, I’m really thankful you all took the time to come here to meet me today,” she finished awkwardly. She had a feeling these meetings were normally less formal, but nopony could help it around poor Luna, unfortunately. “You may also know my really sweet herd sister, Rarity.”
“Oh, Twilight dearest, you know flattery will get you nowhere with me,” Rarity said modestly. “But I’m ever so thrilled to meet my darling Twilight’s mentors, and ever so glad you are all such remarkable ponies.”
“Oh, and this is Bell Chime.” Twilight opened her badge, allowing Bell to poke her little head out.
“Hello, I’m Bell Chime! Oh, Twilight already said that, oops.” Bell giggled, waving a little see-through hoof at the others.
“Oh, is that the latest edition PipSub? I’ve heard so much about it!” Cherry gushed excitedly. “Oh, she’s so cute like me! I want one!”
“Trixie is not jealous. Not at all,” Trixie muttered with an almighty pout. “Stupid princess privileges.”
“There has been a lot of hype around this new model.” Even Silent Pride broke his silence to peer at the excited little kindlesprite. “I suppose I can see why.”
“Oh, Twilight, you’ll be the absolute talk of the Society when you walk in with this cutie!” Cherry squeed. “Absolutely nopony else has even been able to see one of these let alone get one.”
Luna looked thoughtfully at the device before looking back up at Twilight. “Did Jet Set give this to you personally, Twilight?” she asked, pointedly.
“Um, no, my recruitment officer did,” Twilight said, uncertainly.
Luna bit her lip in thought before shaking her head, seemingly putting the thought away for later. “Anyhow, Twilight, as your mentors we’d like to be the first to welcome you on behalf of the Society,” she said to a chorus of nods and smiles from her fellow mentors, even Trixie. “To our friend Rarity, congratulations on your herd sister finally joining the fold.” Nopony missed the emphasis on ‘finally’, especially not Rarity. “Twilight, it is always important to emphasize at the outset that we mentors are not superiors, but a resource for you to draw on. Everypony at the Society has four mentors, even I. This is to provide members with a variety of experiences and opinions to call upon. Mentors answer questions, provide support, and address concerns. While this is most important when you first join, know that your mentors are yours to call upon if you ever need us.” She said to murmured assent from the others. “Now that all that needs to be said has been well and truly said, let us conclude the formalities by updating our contact lists and finally move on to more important matters such as the ingestion of quality sweetmeats!”
Twilight watched as her mentors and Rarity wasted no time in reaching for their PipSubs. She looked down at Bell Chime who saluted back up at her. “Adding everypony to your contact list under ‘mentors’ now, Twilight. Would you also like to add Princess Luna under ‘whipping instructors’, ‘cock worship instructors’, ‘deepthroating instructors’, ‘figging instructor’, ‘waterspo—’...”
Twilight shut her badge so quickly she set off a mini Twi-boom. She gave a teeny pony squee as she slowly, fearfully looked up, expecting Nightmare Moon towering over her. She wasn’t alone, seeing as the rest of the table had tumble-dived for cover underneath the table. To her surprise, however, Luna seemed a picture of perfect calm. “I pride myself in my skills as an instructor. I would take cock-worship lessons from me. You shall do well to do the same,” she said, nonplussed.
Twilight nodded quickly, her smile stiff and weak. “Uh, Bell Chime? Please add Luna under ‘cock worship instructors’.” She looked thoughtful for a moment before adding in a whisper, “And ‘deepthroating’, and everything else. Yes, ‘figging’ too, whatever that is.”
“Hmmm, I thank you for indulging my request to examine her. Bell Chime appears to be in fine working order.” Luna nodded with a hint of resignation in her voice as she levitated the PipSub back across the table to Twilight. “It is quite a masterwork of magical engineering, a grand leap from the PipSub the rest of us use right now.”
“No problem at all, Luna.” Twilight smiled, pocketing her PipSub securely in her saddlebags. “Are you...worried somepony might have tampered with it?” She dropped her voice, despite the fact that the two of them were the only remaining ponies in the private tea room. The other mentors had taken their leave after another hour of social chatter. Rarity herself had to leave to pick up Opal from the vet. Only Luna had remained, seemingly interested in her PipSub.
“Oh.” Luna raised an eyebrow. “No, no. I heard you’ve already met our mutual ‘friend’. No, underhoofed methods like that are unlike him. But it is fact that there is a lot of, well, ‘hype’ as Silent Pride put it, around this new model and that Jet Set is very much publicly credited for it. The fact that you were given the first working product makes one wonder if it is mere coincidence.” Luna fell silent for a moment, seemingly thoughtful “Are you attending your orientation classes?” she suddenly asked.
“Oh, yes,” Twilight nodded, the sudden topic change not escaping her.
“Are you making new friends in class?” Luna continued.
Twilight couldn’t help but giggle at that. “Oh, yes, I’ve met quite a few interesting ponies.”
“I am glad to hear that.” Luna smiled. “Do any of them have the new model PipSub?”
“Ah.” Twilight realized what Luna was getting at. “No, they all made the same excited fuss over mine.”
“Hmm.” Luna nodded, cupping her chin in a forehoof. “Well, intriguing as it is, I see no obvious advantage to anypony but yourself for now. I’m sorry if I made you worry needlessly. You shouldn’t, not when you should focus on ensuring a smooth admission into the Society.”
“If you say so, Luna.” Twilight nodded, though she still filed the matter away with a mental note of caution.
“Sorry, I still retain this bad habit of souring perfectly good repartee. Are you enjoying the classes, at least?” Luna asked, a little more conversationally.
“Oh, yes.” Twilight’s face lit up with that shine afforded only by the talk of knowledge and education. “A lot of talks and workshops about safe words, safety and security, reproductive health, mare health, equipment handling, what to do in emergencies, and more fascinating stuff about the history of the Society and even a tiny bit about the Fire of Devotion.” Twilight gave a sudden chuckle, “The topics are interesting enough, but it sometimes feels the instructors are just keeping us distracted, you know, before they randomly have the classroom’s spatial simulation spell emulate approaching storms, cliffsides or volcanoes and make us all stand up and shout the safewords or ring the practice safety bells.”
“Oh, yes, would you believe that practice has been maintained across the Society worldwide for millennia?” Luna chuckled fondly at Twilight’s animated recollection. “It’s a vestige of training once used during the war against the Windigos. The expectation is that no matter what you are focusing on—and no doubt during play there will be plenty of distractions—you should always remain vigilant for the safety of yourself and those around you.”
“Oh, that makes sense.” Twilight made a note of that on her already-saturated napkin.
“Your eagerness is a boon to my heart. I am glad, nay, proud, that I was selected to be your mentor, Twilight.” Luna smiled softly. “It is nice to know that this old nag can still benefit the Society in some way.”
The sense of melancholy in the lunar monarch was not lost on Twilight. “Oh, Luna, I am sure any institution in Equestria benefits from having a princess or two involved. There are social studies that show royal endorsement improves productivity and public credibility and….”
“Yes, that was certainly reflected in today’s meeting,” Luna muttered under her breath, glaring at the empty cinnamon nut bowls as if they had personally insulted her flanks.
“Luna…” Twilight murmured, suddenly uncertain of what to say. She had sensed the unease in the others sharing the room with the ruler of the night. It wasn’t exactly subtle. “You know that those of us who know you well, your friends, we always love your company.”
“I do not doubt that in the slightest, friend Twilight. And I am eternally grateful for that. Do not worry about me and my sudden bouts of melancholy. I need only remind myself why I work to further the Society’s interests. It is only there, behind our masks, under our collars, that we are treated equal in the pursuit of mutual, as you put it, ‘fun’.”
“I...never thought of it that way, what the Society means that is,” Twilight admitted, feeling a sudden sense of awe. “Would you mind if I note that down?”
Luna paused midway through stowing her PipSub in the hidden slot in her peytral. “I...yes, Twilight, you may.” The Princess of the Night smiled unexpectedly, the most genuine smile she had ever seen her wear. “I am honoured that you value it enough to write it down. The Society, submission, dominance, devotion, all that means something different to everypony, Twilight. I would be interested to learn what else you discover, both from other ponies and yourself.”
“Would you like me to write you regular, ahem, ‘devotion reports’, Luna?” Twilight grinned.
Luna giggled one of her rare giggles. She stood silent in thought for a moment before nodding to herself. “No, Twilight. Talking to you about our mutual interest has been so refreshing, you have infected me with your enthusiasm to rediscover the Society. I propose we make it a mutual exchange of ‘reports’ on our discoveries and revelations. While I hear your new kindlesprite can fly about and deliver your messages for you, you are familiar with how the current messaging system works, yes?”
“The PipSub deposits and picks up messages whenever you insert it into a Pip-point on one of the mailboxes around the Society, I think?” Twilight said.
“Correct.” Luna nodded, “I am truly looking forwards to our correspondence, Twilight. Both my anticipation and gratitude are boundless. If you have any questions or concerns about anything, just ask. You and your herd have my counsel, support and resources at your disposal any time, day or night.”
“Thank you, Luna. And you know you have a friend right here, right?” Twilight smiled.
“I do not doubt that in the slightest, Twilight.” Luna said. “I should teleport my way home to save commotion for the poor servant staff. I bid you farewell for now.” With one last smile the elder alicorn disappeared in a shower of bright blue sparkles.
Twilight smiled fondly at the last of the sparkles. It was fun in an almost school-filly-ish way to share a harmless if naughty secret pastime with somepony, something she had certainly never gotten to enjoy with Celestia. If she ever had even the slightest doubts that her friendship with Luna was more than a formality, those doubts had well and truly been dashed.
Not to mention that Luna had paid the bill, as Twilight found out on leaving. If that wasn’t a friendly gesture, she didn’t know what was.
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As she trotted out into the afternoon sun, she couldn’t help but notice the scent of cinnamon nuts follow her. She looked around curiously. It didn’t take her long to find the source, along with her trademark cape and hat. “You’re still here,” Twilight remarked, simply.
“Oh, Twilight Sparkle, do you know how long Trixie waited out here for you? Three bags of cinnamon nuts, that’s how long.” Trixie crumpled her empty take-away bag and teleported it into a wastebin nearby. “Good thing the Princess was paying, huh?”
Twilight felt a hair twang perfectly perpendicular to her mane in protest at how utterly impossible this unicorn was. “You didn’t save any for Starlight?”
“Oh, Trixie is cooking dinner for her later. Wouldn’t want to spoil Starlight’s dinner.” Trixie grinned widely. Her grin died away a little at Twilight’s rather sour look. “I… um, alright, fine, I’m sorry, Twilight! There, I said it! I’m sorry for being difficult, I’m sorry they ran out of alicorns and sent the next best… alright, maybe not-so-best thing to be your mentor, and I’m also still very sorry for all the other things like enslaving the town and teleporting and losing your Friendship map and…”
“You did what to my Friendship map?!” Twilight balked in horror.
“I….take it you didn’t know about the Friendship map. Uh, it was kinda maybe half Starlight’s fau—okay, no, it was all my fault.” She hung her head, her guilt so genuine Twilight couldn’t help but be taken aback. “Alright, look, I know I kinda sorta maybe mess things up sometimes, but I want you to know, Twilight, I… you see… gah, I’m a showmare, why does this whole ‘talking’ thing have to be so difficult?! You see, Starlight, she’s the only one who’s ever believed I can actually do anything. Yeah, me, Trixie Lulamoon and her cheap parlor tricks, Starlight trusted me enough to rely on me to save Equestria. That, everything, Starlight, means the world to me, Twilight. And you, the Society, all of that means the world to Starlight. This is my one opportunity to do right by what matters to her, to do right by you. And maybe this time Trixie might actually not mess it up! So please, give Trixie a chance, pretty please!” Trixie panted, seemingly unloading everything off her chest including her lungs. “And… please don’t mention any of this to Starlight, ever. Like, pretty please.” She added, blushing profusely.
Twilight was stunned. The mare who admitted to befriending her student to get back at her, who enslaved her town, who she feared was going to become a thorn in her joining the Society, was doing the impossible and apologizing, even asking her for a chance.
… Not to mention there was that little revelation that her very own student was also a Society member and probably, possibly, maybe, likely Trixie’s sub…
She decided not to go there.
Still, the mare seemed sincere, at least. Maybe… just maybe...
“Cinnamon nuts?” Twilight asked, offering some from her own saddlebags.
“T-Twilight…” Trixie looked up at Twilight, hope in her eyes. “Does this mean…?”
“It means I like cinnamon nuts. You do too.” Twilight shrugged. “Maybe we can start there. Besides, the Princess is paying after all.”
“Pffft.” Trixie stifled a giggle. “Hay, you might be alright after all, Twilight,” she said, taking a few. “I mean it, Twi’wight, yuu can chount on me if you haf any Shoshiety pwobwems, evew! Hust ashk!”
“I kinda want to count on you to not talk with your mouth full,” Twilight sighed with a half-smile. “I guess I can kind of get where you’re coming from. I’ve always felt like I’m just running as hard as I can to catch up with how loving my herd is. But joining the society, doing all this, well, it feels like I’m finally doing something of my own for them.”
“Wow, that’s reaaaaal weeeeird,” Trixie deadpanned, “But y’know what, I get that, it’s like how I feel I can finally do things right as long as it’s for Starlight.”
“That’s… kinda what I said…” Twilight gave a resigned smile. Perhaps, just perhaps, given enough time, effort, patience and a whole load of painkillers, she might be able to start to see what Starlight sees in Trixie.
“Aaaargh! Cinnamon powder up my nose! Cinnamon powder up my nose! Ah! Aaaah!” Trixie suddenly snorted in cinnamon-induced panic.
Twilight bit her lip. No, Starlight was just crazy, and that was that.

Silent Whisper peered through the pet-store window, watching all the ponies walk by outside. None of them paid her any mind though, and continued to wander, walking their pets or hurrying along. The changeling squeaked and pressed her hooves against the glass, twitching her nose. The sign pasted to the window next to her, if she could read it, would say “Bunny, partially trained, inquire inside for pricing details.” Not that she would know, she was just a cute little bunny, with fluffy ears enlarged by magic. One passing mare glanced at her, sending her into a flurry of excitement, bouncing around the display window with happy little hops. The mare, to her disappointment, just turned and continued meandering around the park, and the little ‘ling’s ears drooped.
She batted at her collar for a moment before licking water from her feeding bottle (shaped like a stallion’s member, of course), being sure to raise her short, fluffed-up tail like every good pet should. She shivered. A stallion and his pet dog paused at the window, watching. The lucky sub barked at the startled bunny in the cage, who shuddered and rubbed against the back cage wall in fear. The happy puppy licked the window, winking at Silent, before nuzzling her owner, who chuckled before the pair continued their walk.
Silent rolled over on the fluffy blanket covering the ground, showing her belly and spreading her legs happily. Even if nopony purchased her, she was still proud to be chosen as the display pet for the day. She sprawled, tucking her front legs under her as she crawled over to the interior side of the display. Batting at the cage wall, she begged for a carrot from the ponies shopping inside the store. One kitten in a crate near her cage mewled at the rabbit for a moment before continuing to groom herself, lifting her leg and licking close to her marehood teasingly. One of the employees, a sassy unicorn maid who had rubbed Silent’s clit before dropping her into the display, smiled at the whimpering bunny. Silent didn’t know who she was, nor did she care, for a bunny had no need for the names of those who took care of her.
“Does the cute pet want a treat?” she purred, levitating a thick raw carrot towards the cage. The bunny nodded, and hopped back and forth excitedly, wiggling her tail as best she could. A pair of stallions snickered outside the window, watching the rabbit shake her plot, her snatch in full view. She watched the carrot hungrily as it slipped through the bars of the cage portion and behind her. The maid smirked as the pet bit her lip, trying not to drool.
“Then display, rabbit, and show the onlookers what a good pet you are,” the maid commanded, rubbing the ‘ling’s trembling pussy with the treat. Silent obliged, pushing her chest to the fluffy blanket and spreading her legs for the growing crowd. She squeaked as the tip of the carrot teased her, the air cooling the fluids leaking from her petals. Muffled tweeting made her turn her head, and she blushed as she saw pets and their owners gathering to watch. One pegasus, a filly-sized, black-collared bird with a purple coat, perched proudly on her owner’s back and chirped cheekily at the bunny. Silent moaned softly as the carrot slowly wiggled its way into her folds, squeaking when the maid rapped against the cage.
“Bunnies do not make noise, little one, they are quiet pets. If you don’t behave, you won’t get the treat,” the unicorn hummed, working the carrot into the squirming mare. Silent panted happily, kneading the ground with her front hooves, as the carrot gently thrust in and out, gaining speed and depth while the onlookers murmured. She bit her lip as she felt the maid’s magic vibrate at her clit, quickly arousing her. Her hind legs shook, and her wings buzzed slightly from where they were pressed to her sides. The kitten in the crate in front of her, Silent noted through her daze, was clopping along, mewing encouragingly at the sight. The maid beamed at the bunny.
“You’ve been a good little pet, rabbit. Feel free to cum, but remember, rabbits are silent!” The poor sub needed little encouragement, orgasming with a muffled squeak as she clenched around the carrot. From the crate across from her, the kitten came too, with a loud moan. Silent sighed as she felt her cum trickle down her legs, and heard the muffled approval of the ponies watching through the window.
The unicorn maid waved at the crowd beyond the display window. “Come in, everypony, and see what good pets we have!” she called out, pulling the carrot gently from the bunny's nectar soaked flower and levitating it in front of her face. “There you go, pet, a reward for behaving,” she whispered before trotting away to welcome the new customers.
Silent weakly grabbed the carrot in front of her, turning to face the dispersing crowd - many of whom were intrigued enough to enter the pet store - and lapped off her sweet juices from the carrot before crunching down on the treat. She felt her cum stain the furry blanket as she sat down, enjoying her treat and offering a flustered smile to the ponies outside. Sure, she may not be purchased today, but it was good to be a pet anyways.

Excerpt from the Clocktower Training Manual - 'Den Mothers and You' by Dr. Starsong Star
Now, before we start this off and you get lost in this bombardment of information, you should consider thanking the pony that just popped out of the wall / floor / ceiling / thin air (circle whichever is appropriate) for providing you with this instructional pamphlet. Don't be afraid, they're supposed to just appear. Yes that's considered normal around here. Welcome to the Clocktower Society, where logic sometimes does not seem to exist. You get used to that sort of thing.
Now that that’s out of the way, you did thank the cute mare didn’t you? Good! If you did, you can exchange the coupon she snuck into your pocket for a free cookie. Don’t worry about how she did that, this is, again, absolutely normal!
Now, first let's start with a little introduction. I’m Doctor Starsong Star, one of the resident doctors working at the clinic, usually holding the nightshift alongside the infamous nurse Killjoy Red Heart. More relevant to this chapter of the training manual though, I am the current Alpha Den Mother and it is on behalf of our pack that I welcome you to the Clocktower Society.
This is my guide to everything about Den Mothers. Reading through this you will probably notice that there is a lot here. That is because I feel that knowledge is important. Some of the things relayed herein are very specific to Den Mothers, but they aren’t exactly state secrets. I feel that it is important you know why Den Mothers wear the gear that they do. I decided – with the others, I should add – that the previous incarnation of this manual was lacking in depth. It left ponies that we recruited a bit lost about even basic things. As such, there is a new equipment section that you can freely ignore if you want, but it's there for anypony that is curious or for reference if the need arises. The guild’s organisation is also not a very important fact, but I feel that it is useful knowledge.
We are always on the lookout to recruit ponies with a strong maternal instinct and who truly care about their fellow ponies, with the drive to offer them the comfort they need.

What exactly are Den Mothers
In short, they are the caregivers of the Society. But I don’t think you are here for the short answers. I think that if you are reading this, you’re either genuinely interested or new and have been asked to read this as part of your orientation.
There are three typical services that a Den Mother will provide.
Aftercare: For ponies without a dedicated Master or Mistress things can be a little different.The Clocktower Society tries to promote a healthy BDSM relationship in all aspects. Safe, sane and consensual play are things thrown around a lot. But quite a few ponies seem to forget that aftercare is a very important aspect of the lifestyle. Den Mothers aim to pick up the slack, as it were. They are always approachable if a sub or slave feels that they have not received enough aftercare.
Advice:
There is a time in any dominant’s or submissive’s life when you might not know if what you are doing is right. Your sub or Master is enjoying it, but you have doubts. Maybe you want to try something and are afraid to ask. You can always ask a Den Mother for advice on these sorts of things – most are Switches and are very knowledgeable in both fields.
Counseling: Like any relationship, a BDSM relationship can at times hit a rough patch. This is normal even in a healthy relationship. Still, it can actually hit harder than your average relationship troubles due to the nature of such a bond – after all, BDSM is reliant on a very close bond of trust between dominant and submissive, and sometimes that bond is tested. Maybe a line was crossed, or maybe there was a miscommunication. Whatever it is, the Den Mothers will always be there to act as mediators and counselors to guide both Dominant and Submissive back towards a healthy state of their relationship.
Contacting a Den Mother: There are a few ways to get in contact with a Den Mother.
* The first (and simplest) is approaching them in the back of the Slave Pits. There are always Den Mothers present there to help you. For Dominants there is also another option. There is a special section in the Dominants’ Lounge on the top floor where a few Den Mothers are always on standby to offer advice or comfort.
* The second way is to enter a Safeword or Aftercare room and simply call for a Den Mother. The safety monitoring magic in the room will lead one towards your location, though this might take a few moments.
* The last way – reserved only for emergencies – would be to use the Towertop safeword in one of these safe rooms. This will instantaneously summon the nearest (non-busy) Den Mother to you, as well as alerts the guards.
A Brief History
The Den Mothers were formed during the Age of Unification. (For the sake of brevity, this is largely the story of Hearths warming. If you’re interested, I will offer a list of reading materials at the bottom.) Their roots lay in being the dedicated healers on the field of battle during the Age of Unification. They specialized in Fire of Devotion-powered healing spells and producing condensed Fire of Devotion healing salves and potions.
In the past, when it had become known that Windigos were powered by hate and disharmony. Den Mothers came into a sort of hybrid military police and morale officer role, tasked with helping resolve disputes in the army camps and preventing disharmony from spreading.
Now you might be wondering how they got the name “Den Mothers” – that isn’t something very military sounding, now is it? There is a simple explanation for it though. It all started with the six ponies of the three tribes being driven back into what we now call the Hearths warming Cavern. While the exact manner things played has been either been forgotten, or never revealed by any of the six, we do know the result.
The First Fire blessed each of the six ponies with the knowledge to tap into it, to wield it and manipulate it. One among them, Private Pansy, was blessed with the art of healing. She could manipulate the fire into potent healing spells, or even condense it into potent healing draughts. She watched over the others like a mother lioness protecting her den. Caring for her cubs and treating them if they got injured in the fight. She very quickly became known among the troops as the den matron which over the course of was adapted, and adopted as the name for ponies with her mindset.

Their Organization
The Den Mothers are organized in perhaps the most unique way in all of the Society. Not only are they in part a military organization working in conjunction with the Clocktower Guards and the Torch Legionnaires, but more recently – and I am using recently as a pretty loose term here – they have developed a more civilian division more concerned with being dedicated healers and caregivers.
A Den Mother can hold one of the following ranks, listed in ascending order of seniority:
Apprentice Den Mother: This is a pony who has only recently become a Den Mother, having been officially sponsored by a senior Den Mother. They have only begun learning how to care for our cubs. They are assigned to follow a fully-fledged Den Mother around to learn the craft through first hoof experience rather than studying dusty old tomes (although the latter is definitely part of the path). For more information, see the Den Mother Apprenticeship guide.
Novice Den Mother: This is the rank carried by Den Mothers who haven’t yet decided on which division they will be joining. They are allowed to act as full Den Mothers when the situation calls for it, but they are not allowed to act in the capacity of a guard. Should they choose the path of a Shield Mother they will receive more advanced training. For more information see the Shield Mother chapter in the Den Mother Novitiates guide.
Den Mother: This is the rank held by all the Den Mothers of the civilian division (it is also the catch-all term for Den Mothers in general). These are the ponies that keep the Society running as smoothly as, apologies for the pun, clockwork. They are the ones who act as counselors and caregivers to ponies that need it (yes, dominants too!). Acting from the shadows in the form of leaving specialized care products for particular couples that may need a little extra care than what the standard items that the Den Mother's keep in stock in every Safe Room cover. Or acting to provide additional aftercare if a sub feels like they haven’t gotten enough – which is more common than you might think, especially in the Slave Pits where play can be very one-off. As a side note, it is not uncommon that the rank of Den Mother is awarded to stallions. (Although they are officially called Den Fathers.)
Shield Mothers: The Rank held by every Den Mother within the military division of the Den Mothers. Even to this day, they maintain their traditional role as the military police and dedicated healers of the Clocktower Guards.
Alpha Den Mother: The overall leader of all Den Mothers in their respective Clocktower location, second only to Den Matriarch Cadance herself. Every few years an election is held and the Alpha is chosen through a democratic process. Although the Star family has held the title for quite a few years here at Equestria East, the Sparkle family is the current record holder with over 40 years of consecutive service. That streak only ended with Twilight Velvet’s retirement to let the new generation have a turn.
Brazier-bearers: This is a special rank. One held by nearly every Den Mother at least once in their line of service. You might think that there is only one Fire of Devotion. This is technically true, but most Clocktower sites have at least a few smaller fires. These satellite units serve to ensure that every last little spark of devotion isn’t wasted.
Once every six months during a ceremony, each of the flames is drained, brought to, and added onto the main Fire of Devotion, kindling it further and keeping it going. This is a highly ritualistic event which is accompanied by celebration. Den Mothers are selected at random for this. It is considered a great honour to bear the flames and eventually to show their devotion upon the altar before the Flame.
About Den Mother Gear
[Collar Image]
Every Den Mother is given a standard kit the moment they start their apprenticeship. This kit contains some essential items that may seem trivial if examined from an outside perspective. In fact much of their equipment may appear mundane.
If this list seems excessive to you, well, you're probably right. In all honesty we are probably better equipped than some of the Royal Guard units. At least when it comes to the day-to-day things that we do.
The Work Collar: By necessity Den Mother Collars are a lot more sporty in design. Unlike the more traditional Clocktower collar, they don’t have the padlock to lock it in place. Due to how they move in the tunnels it was deemed a safety precaution to have all collars be a snap lock design – if they manage to get it caught on something, the collar will safely come off rather than choking the pony. There have never been any accidental hanging issues within the Tower, and we definitely want to keep it that way.
The enchantment on the collar is the most important aspect of it. If a Safeword or Aftercare room is occupied, the closest Den Mother will be notified through the enchantment on the collar. This is generally done through stimulating a part of the brain that points them to the right place. It works somewhat like instinct. It´s actually very complicated magic and I should probably refer you to Clocktower Research Laboratories if you want details on the exact workings.
The Hoofcuffs / Leg Wraps: These do not feature a snap-lock design. Instead, they are buckled around the hoof just on the lower part of the cannon bone. They are secured with a simple belt buckle that comes with an emergency quick release in case it snags on something. More importantly though, these hoof cuffs come enchanted by default with a slow-fall spell. Within the tunnels that the Den Mothers call home there are many sheer drops (many of which are quick ways to get to lower levels).
The leg wraps that come with the hoofcuffs have multiple functions. They offer a bit of additional support and help prevent scuffing when slipping through tight places. They also give a bit of support against the strain of lifting, and do a fair job of preventing damage from impact.
The Saddle Pack: Perhaps the most important piece of kit a Den Mother has with her is this smooth, sportily-designed Saddle Pack. This is a saddle-mounted bag of holding containing up to 250lbs and 30 cubic feet of equipment. Regardless of what is put into the pack, it weighs a fixed amount of 15 lbs. This wonderful piece of arcane magic is used primarily to store items you will be needing on your day to day activities such as specialized lotions and ointments for rope burns, minor vaginal and anal irritation, painful rumps post-spanking and lashing, etc. Other use is not specifically prohibited, but please do not let your toys get in the way of your duties.
[Clocktower Research Laboratories Note: If a bag of holding is overloaded, or if sharp objects pierce it (from inside or outside), the bag immediately ruptures and is ruined, and all contents are lost forever. If a bag of holding is turned inside-out, all of its contents spill out, unharmed, but the bag must be put right before it can be used again. Please make sure to read the accompanying instruction manual! also know as page 172 of the O&O master equipment guide]
The Clocktower Den Mother’s Uplifting Primer: The Den Mothers' Uplifting Primer is a small, white-covered book issued to all Den Mothers, be they novice or Alpha, that is full of handy tricks and advice for performing their duties as a CTS Den Mother. Den Mothers are encouraged to read and memorise most of the Primer. In its most simplified function, the Primer is basically a guide-book to the duties and equipment of a Den Mother, full of advice and tips from more senior Den Mothers, going all the way back to Private Pansy.
More importantly, the Primer also contains several techniques for Den Mothers to use for themselves in order to distance themselves from their duties and simply relax, preventing their tasks and chores within the Society from overwhelming them. A Den Mother sees many things within the Society, not all of them pleasant. So please, stop and thank your Den Mothers for their invaluable services – which they give freely without asking for anything in return – next time you see one.
The Fire Maps: These maps have had many names over the years, but they are collectively referred to as Fire Maps. They are old, some of the maps in existence are practically ancient and have been in use for hundreds of years. Frighteningly easy to use, too, if you know the right methods. Without this knowledge they are simply blank pieces of parchment. Every Den Mother has their own personalised little prayer to activate it. Once activated, it will guide you to where you need to be. Simply tell it where you need to go and it will quite literally show you the quickest route.
Just speak politely to it. And yes that is a prerequisite. While not entirely sentient, they are pretty temperamental things. When you have finished with it, simply thank it with the phrase “Thank you very much. I'll be able to find my way now.” Although again, everypony has their own way of doing this. It works by recognising your sincerity more than anything else. (Although as it looks these are perhaps going to see very little use with the release of the newer model of PipSub. Personally I will stick to my Fire Map, it has been with me since my mother inducted me into the Den Mothers, even though my Kindlesprite Star Nova is adorable as all hell.)
The Aegis Armour (Shield Mothers only):
This is very similar to the standard armour for Clocktower Guards. The only real, noticeable difference is the saddle that they wear. On the right side there is the typical Den Mother saddle pack with all their normal potions and ointments and other assorted gear that you have already read about. On the other side, they bear a miniature Fire of Devotion brazier – this object contains an ember of the Fire of Devotion set atop a lavishly-adorned altar. It is through this small fire that they practice their special brand of healing magic.

About the Den Mother’s Den:
The Den is a place shrouded in mystery. Not many get to visit and those that do – well let’s say they usually don’t remember much of it. Generally a blissful pleasure and not much else. What, did you really think I was going to tell you what and where it is? I can tell you a little, but its location and what it looks like will remain a mystery to all you non-Den Mothers. It isn’t just more fun like that –there are some things that should remain secret out of necessity.
I would like to start off by stating that The Den is not a place for play. It is a very strictly-enforced Green Room. The Den is, in its essence, a sanctuary for Den Mothers. It is a safe haven for us, a place where we, much like how ponies can come to us, can go to retreat for our own moment of comfort. As such, having it be a play area would be antithetical to what we want at the end of the day. We’re all ponies, and we need rest and relaxation. If one must draw a comparison, a spa would be the most apt comparison.
That probably leads you to one simple question: just what in Tartarus goes on down there?
That is a simple question to answer: it's a secret. I know, I am evil, sue me.

Frequently Asked Questions:
How does one become a Den Mother?
This can be achieved in one of two ways.
1. You are hoof-picked by one of the senior Den Mothers, nominated at the bi-weekly meeting and, after votes are cast, if the majority approves, you are taken on as the apprentice of the Den Mother that sponsored you.
2. You can apply through the administration within the Clocktower Society, though it is rare for ponies to be picked from a random pool like this. A Den Mother will be evaluating you while you are at the tower – unobtrusively, of course. You are then given an invitation by the Den Mother if she judges you as worthy.
Who does a Den Mother go to for help?
This is really simple: They go to see a therapist/professional counselor of the Society.

Additional Instructional Material:
Excerpt from ‘The Hunt for the Elusive Den Mother’
By Wood Wise
Greetings and salutations, my friends. I would like to welcome you to the Clocktower Society Sub Watch and thank you for joining me, at least in spirit, on my journey to find the elusive Den Mothers of the Clocktower Equestria East location.
It was quite a chore to find one to observe. Den Mothers are notoriously elusive creatures as they can be submissives, switches or even dominants themselves, so it can be notoriously hard to spot one, especially if they do not want to be spotted. After hours of patiently observing in the slave pens under the cover of an invisibility cloak – courtesy of the Clocktower Research Labs (CTRL), I finally spotted one of these majestic creatures in action.
The mare was large, a fair head taller than me. I would hazard a guess that she rivaled Princess Luna herself for height. She was grey of coat with a braided, two-toned blond mane. Her stride was slow but confident, her piercing blue eyes held a fierceness that nearly made my heart freeze. She approached a mare that had been used and then simply discarded in her cage, coated in sweat and seed. The little thing was still lost in the afterglow of her service to the Masters that sampled and subsequently used her.
I watched her eyes soften into a caring smile as she unlocked the cage and stepped inside to retrieve the small peach-coated mare with her bright golden mane. The tiny thing had a satisfied smile but was shivering slightly. The Den Mother – who I assumed by her size was the pack alpha – took the smaller mare by her withers, and slowly lifted her up, the faint glow of telekinesis surrounding the smaller mare. It was a soft silver aura that almost seemed to radiate warmth.
Watching the smaller mare – whom I will be referring to as the cub from here on – snuggle into the Den Mother’s chest was heartwarming. As a Dominant, I myself am not usually privy to the inner politics and relationships of the slave pens. To me, spending hours observing the submissives in their natural environment was odd. Most of them seem to have formed herds with the mares in the cages around them. There seems to be a strict social structure in which the Den Mothers, much like the Saddle Arabian Sphinxes, appear to be the leaders.
I had expected the Den Mother to return to her cage to tend to her Cub. Instead, I was surprised to see her move towards the back of the Slave Pens. I gave chase in as careful a manner as I could while keeping pace with the big mare’s long stride. I could hear the soft whispers, that light motherly tone. I couldn’t make out the words, but even I felt soothed by her dulcet tones. The Cub seemed to respond in much the same way, smiling happily and curling up.
I was surprised to see her glancing around conspiratorially before lowering herself down, and slipping into a cubby-hole that was set just around the corner. I doubted any dominant had actually been here before me. This was their domain. I remember seeing a mare dominant actually get a spanking for even daring to come back here.
The place I stood was at the wall opposite to that cubby-hole. It was tight there, the entire floor was actually a giant bed with large pillows. I almost screamed upon seeing a mare sitting on a pillow. She was smaller than the Alpha with a charcoal black coat and an off-white mane, a pegasus with a serene look about her. She had a bit of a belly, I guessed she was about three months pregnant. She was looking right at me. I feared that I had made a sound, but then I saw her smile sweetly, a glance behind me saw a timid, buttery-yellow pegasus with a cotton-candy-pink mane approaching her.
The yellow pegasus, I knew very well. She was a switch and a harsh mistress to her pets. Seeing her meek and timid was actually quite a strange occurrence. She snuggled under the other pegasus’ wing and nuzzled into her neck. There wasn’t an exchange of words, it seemed that looks were enough to convey messages and feelings. I slowly set out towards the cubby-hole now that I was happy the mare was distracted with the adorable Fluttershy.
Approaching the hole, I noticed one thing: it was hot, but not unpleasantly so. The lighting was dimmed giving it a homely, comfortable atmosphere that felt very welcoming. Standing there, the room made even me feel safe. There were plenty of nooks to hide away in, and satellite rooms almost like a rabbit warren. It lent some credit to the rumours that the Den Mothers had tunnels leading to every Safeword Room and play area in the Society. There was also the unmistakable scent of mares – the sweet scent sent a shiver of excitement down my spine. I imagined this what it was like for a male lion to walk into a den of females while they were in season.
I controlled myself, for the most part – my wings didn’t leave my side. I can’t say the same for another part of my anatomy though. I treaded carefully as I was about to enter their den. This was officially their domain. The sight before me was different than I had expected. Instead of seeing the Alpha, there were six mares there. They were all as lovely as the other and each attended to a curled up little submissive. One of the mares even had her submissive buried under her soft and inviting-looking fluff, like a mother hen brooding her egg.
Each of the mares laid in a nest made of blankets and pillows. It dawned on me that this was what they defended so fiercely. I slowly snuck into a corner to lay down myself, to watch and to observe the mares. The Alpha was the closest to me, she was taking great care in cleaning the Cub with a tongue bath. Slow, delicate licks with a whispered "Shhhh... rest little one."
It was a beautiful sight to behold. The Alpha let one of her hooves brush the Cub’s cheek, letting the Cub snuggle into her for the aftercare that she needed. I watched her smile a happy smile that only a mother could harbour for her foal. “Mommy’s here for you,” cooed the Alpha in that low, comforting tone.
A running noise startled me. I watched a small mare run in through the entrance hole with tears that ran down her cheeks. She threw herself at one of the mares and recounted a falling out with her Master and not knowing what to do. The poor thing, who will remain undescribed and unnamed, was hysterical. It was quite heartbreaking to watch a submissive so distressed over an argument.
I watched in rapt attention as the pegasus Den Mother simply wrapped her hooves around the mare, and pulled her close, cooing and murmuring into her ear. Although she spoke softly to her, it seemed almost wordless – more primal and animalistic in how she soothed her. Simple warmth and closeness seemed to help her calm. Having been soothed, the Cub was pulled onto the Den Mother’s back with a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Let’s go have a chat with your Master, hmm little one?” I couldn’t help but smile as the Cub nodded her agreement and they left.
It is one of the tasks of the elusive Den Mothers. Comfort a submissive when they need somepony to talk to and their Master isn’t an option. Aside from that, they are responsible for providing extra aftercare for submissives when they need it to help them clean up. They are also the ones who feed the little cubs if they haven’t eaten yet, and, for some, act as part security in the case of an incident.
I know that when a new submissive joins they are taken to at least one Den Mother and introduced. They are shown around the places where dominants are not allowed. Like this, or one of the many, many other rooms where a submissive could retreat and seek calm. Even if there is no Den Mother there, rumour has it one shows up as if by instinct.
It was then that I noticed something off. The Alpha was approaching where I lay, she was even sniffing at my position. I had been assured that the cloak masked my scent too, it was zebra design – zebras don’t lie, RIGHT!?
Wrong. The mare pulled the cloak off me, and there was a collective gasp.
“You have some explaining to do, little colt,” growled the Alpha menacingly.
<<< The transcript stops here, past this point it’s only a stallion mewling like a bitch in heat. >>>
Note: there is a film version available upon request.
Additional note from Den Mother Starsong: We made sure that it's the entire film, including what happened when we found him. I highly recommend it, it's a good watch! It can be purchased relatively cheaply at Sweet Saddles Media Store.
Afterword:
Wow, that sure was a lot of information, wasn’t it? Maybe it’s a bit much to take in. Or perhaps it left you with questions? Well if you do have questions, comments, or concerns you can find a Den Mother who will relay them to me and I will get back to you on it. Just don’t be shocked if I suddenly appear out of the ceiling, or the floor, or the walls… or thin air. You get the idea. We kind of come from everywhere, but for us that is a part of the fun!
Anyhow, I shouldn’t start rambling. I do sincerely hope that you have found this informative, that it has enlightened you on what we do for ponies and what our role is within the Clocktower Society. I hope to see all of you lovely subs and doms eventually. So, next time you see one of these elusive mares out in public, give her a hug? They are there looking out for your well being and giving their all to make the society a better place for everypony involved.
Oh, right, before I forget. We had a little discussion among the senior Den Mother and well… if you have any erotic fantasies about what goes on in the Den, do feel free to share them in at least 10,000 words or more. I will personally enjoy reading them, and ensure that they do get published for everypony to read and enjoy. We so adore seeing what ponies think we get up to in our little paradise.
Author's Note: Congratulations on making it this far in the story. If you're interested, you now have the opportunity to join the Clocktower Society Community by clicking here.

My Mommy’s a Cat
My Mommy’s a cat, I’ve known this forever
Cuz mommies and kittens go so well together
Daddy says most ponies don’t understand
That cats can be the best moms in the land!
She wakes me up before school every day
With meows that mean that she just wants to play
I throw her a toy, it’s a mousie that squeaks,
And she bats it around with her paws while she speaks
She wakes up my Daddy by pouncing his bed
And then makes us breakfast with jelly on bread
Mom packs my lunch, Dad walks me to school
And I learn from my friends why my Mom is so cool
Most parents, you see, wear no collar or mask
So I’m not allowed to explain if they ask
My Mom is a pet, and I wish I could say
That I’m proud she’s so special in her feline way
But most ponies don’t get it and think she is weird
And Dad says the uncommon often is feared
But someday I hope that I can change their mind
And they’ll learn that my cat-mom and dad are so kind
I come home after school and my parents are there
Mom’s chasing a laser or curled up on a chair
And Dad’s petting my mom, or he’s cutting the grass
Then we talk about my friends and my teachers and class
Mom helps with my homework as day turns to night
She must be the world’s only cat who can write!
And Dad makes us dinner, which is a fun affair
Since Mommy is rarely allowed on her chair!
So she eats from her bowl while she grins ear to ear
You think that is odd? No,it’s quite normal here
We talk and we laugh, we play and we sing
Mom being a cat doesn’t change many things
Someday, Mommy says, I could be a pet too
Though it’s up to me what I’ll be and I’ll do
Yes, my Mommy’s a cat, but you know what I’ve found?
She’s the nicest pet ever, and the best mommy around!
Author's Note:
Yet another guest chapter by Silent Whisper. The idea is this is meant to be a ditty from an 'Adult Foalbook' for CTS. This little piece was just so adorable I just had to draw art for it and share it. If you like it, please drop a comment for Silent Whisper and help encourage her to write more!

Fuck Lady Luck with a rad-mutated cactus.
Distant Star huffed as she sat down on her rump in surrender. She was most certainly the unluckiest pony ever, she was certain of it, what with Lady Luck’s everlasting hate-boner for her. It was easy for her twin sister to call her a quitter when her dear, lovely elder sister had gotten the wings and all the luck. She probably started somewhere near the Core, the more civilized end of the Borderlands where the raiders have the decency to put on some lube before fucking you over. Hay, she probably landed right next to a huge stash of escape supplies and probably her own harem of companions to boot. Meanwhile, Distant Star was stuck here in this half-collapsed warehouse in the ass-end of the Borderlands with nothing but her horn, her slave collar and her PipSub.
She jumped as her tushie brushed against something. A loud clatter echoed about warehouse’s sheet metal walls. She turned around just in time to see a glint of metal roll off into the darkness under the rusted roof. She felt her heart flutter with excitement. Could it be a supply can? Could Lady Luck finally be taking her hoof out of Star’s tailhole and doing something useful for her for a change?
There was a loud clunk of metal striking wood. Then another, and another, each one growing more and more distant. The rolling can had found the stairs to the warehouse’s basement.
“Hm, area scans suggest that object fell into a space immediately beneath us, Star.” A small sprite-mare floated out of Distant Star’s hoof-mounted PipSub to perch on her shoulder like her personal conscience. “Comparison against pre-war municipal records suggest it is a basement, probably deep and dark and full of raiders waiting to turn you into their personal fuck-pet.” A personal conscience of the more demonic and somewhat pervy variety, that is.
“Lady Luck, go take a six foot drop in a rad-tentacle pit.” Distant Star sighed. “Buck, now that I’ve said that, there’ll be a Tower-Wolf or Broodclaw den down there waiting to breed me senseless.”
“I’d watch that.” The sprite drooled a little.
“Whose side are you on, Comet?” Distant Star gave the little demoness perched on her shoulder a sharp glare.
“Your side. It’s where I can get the best view, after all.” Little Comet said, sneaking off behind Star’s cornflower-blue mane. “Teehee.” She whispered from her hidey-place behind her owner’s ear.
“Buck me, Little Comet, I might as well have a horny hell-orthros in heat for a companion. That way I’d only get fucked over twice.” Distant Star gave a little sigh as she carefully walked across the dusty warehouse floor. The light from her PipSub talisman lit up just enough of the gloaming darkness to allow her to see the wide staircase disappearing into the shadows below. She gulped, subconsciously grasping the slave collar around her neck before taking her first step down. The stairs creaked horribly beneath her hoofsteps, each sound competing with the thumping of her own heart. She shivered as some dust trickled down on her creamy yellow fur, casting shadows across her PipSub lamp. Her heart gave a little leap as the pool of light from her lamp lit up not only the can but the telltale glint of a locked storage chest.
“Oh, loot!” Little Comet squeaked as she floated down to the chest excitedly.
“Wait a sec, Comet,” Distant Star warned, “Knowing Lady Luck’s boner for me, this’ll be a booby-trap or a lust-mimic or something.” She lit up her horn and pushed her telekinetic field over the air and floor gently. “Hm, no pressure plates or trip wires.” She said, eyeing the surroundings carefully. “Can you unlock it, Comet?”
“Sure thing, Star!” The little kindlesprite reached her forehooves and head into the chest’s keyhole. Her flanks wiggled about in the air for a moment as her grunts and squeaks filled the keyhole. There was a satisfying ‘click’ as the lock gave way. “I don’t think there are any traps. Pity.” She said, wriggling back out. “But honestly, Star, with your luck, you could do with a few more points in perception.”
Distant Star held her breath as she pushed the lid open. “Look at this, Little Comet!” She gasped at the chest’s contents. “We might have enough supplies in here to make it to the escape point!”
“You’re welcome.” Little Comet preened. “Told you I’m lucky.”
“Lucky for us, yes. Dinner and dessert. We feast tonight, everypony.” There was the telltale click of a runic weapon being cocked in that threatening manner all baddies just couldn’t resist doing. Distant Star felt the tip of something cold, steely and cliche pressed up against her back.
“Oh buck me sideways with a flaming megaspell cock.” Star swore.
“Later.” The voice chuckled. “We’ll even find a use for that dirty hole of a mouth you have. For now, be a good dear and get down on your belly. And don’t try any fancy unicorn tricks. Slavers prefer their toys only slightly used after all.”
She gritted her teeth as she relented and lowered herself onto her belly. The cold steel followed her descent, pressing her croup into the ground, almost forcing her to grind her moistening marehood into the cold concrete.
“Bind and leash her. If we hurry we can have a little fun before we sell her off to that passing caravan.” She heard hooves in heavy boots move around her. Her heart sank. There were at least three of these buckers, four at most, making her chances at making a break for it slim at best. One of her assailants moved within her view. She was a unicorn mare, her raider barding a patchwork of red and white society collars, a sight that would chill the hearts of even the hardiest slave. She wore both a red dom mask and a white slave collar, no doubt a switch.There were quite a lot of switches around the Borderland, living on that exciting edge of capturing and being captured. Bunch of undecided hipsters as far as Star was concerned.
She felt several hooves roughly grip her own legs, preparing to tie her up. She sighed, resigning herself to her Lady Luck’s regularly scheduled fuckery, her eyes darting up to what would have been her loot. To her surprise something waved back. It was Little Comet, hiding inside the loot box, giving her a hoof gesture that she knew was one of the slave position commands. Which one was that again? Present? Belly Rubs? Oh, wait, it’s ‘DOWN’!
She flattened herself against the floor just as something big, dark and loud flew out of the darkness shrouding the rest of the basement. It struck the raider mare in front of her in a shrieking flurry of claws before spiriting her away into the shadows. The mare’s screams echoed about the basement to the cacophony of barding being torn apart and the single ‘ding’ of a safety bell ringing. Her screams were abruptly cut short by the wet gagging noise of what was no doubt something monstrously phallic prying her muzzle open. For a moment, there was only silence, punctuated by a pair of wet slapping noises and the helpless moans of a mare being ravished from both ends.
“Broodclaws!” The raider leader finally found his voice. Distant Star turned just in time to see another humongous feral shadow leap on his collared and masked form before spiriting him away to join his ravaged comrade. The remaining two raiders opened fire with their runic weapons, firing blindly into the darkness as they made a run for the stairs. One of them was tripped by a claw-swipe, her struggling form dragged kicking and screaming into the shadows. The last raider just about managed to make it to the stairs before the wraith-like silhouette of an alpha broodclaw landed with a crash in her path. The unicorn raider raised her runic axe in a final act of defiance. The loud hollow clicks of an empty chambers filled the room. She gave a little ponysquee before a gigantic claw closed around her little body. The little mare could barely whimper and wriggle as the alpha broodclaw carried her away into the shadows of his own den. A solitary ding of a safety bell sounded in the distance, followed by a resigned gulp.
The basement was quickly filled with the sound of flank-slapping breeding and the intermingled musk of the raiders and their lusty captors. Distant Star could just about make out one raider pegasus mare at the centre of a circle of broodclaws. Her hooves, wings and neck were all pinned tight against the pile of sacking beneath her by several claws each. Maws full of razor-sharp teeth ran up and down her quivering body, canines digging into her fur leaving thin trails of drool. One broodclaw had already claimed her teats and clit, its jaws engulfing the tender flesh. The poor mare could only shriek helplessly as the monster ground the sensitive nubs together in its maw. Her cries were quickly silenced by a barbed leviathan of a cock brushing against her lips. She whimpered softly one last time, giving her safety bell a resigned ring as she surrendered her mouth to the monstrous invader. The beast wasted no time in driving its cock against her tongue, howling triumphantly all the while. Its den mates gripped her remaining holes in their claws, stretching them mercilessly. Distant Star could barely believe a ponut could stretch that wide as it was filled with broodclaw drool. Or that a pony that small could stretch so impossibly wide around three broodclaw knots. She shivered, feeling somewhat sorry (and just a little jealous), having heard that broodclaw mating and breeding can take a good few days.
She suddenly felt rather alone and forgotten lying there on the floor in the middle of what was one of the hottest orgies she had ever seen. “Nice plan, Comet.” She whispered.
“Oh right, helping, yep, no problem, anytime.” Comet nodded from where she perched on the loot chest, drooling shamelessly at the free show. “Hmm, yes, breed that raider womb~”
Distant Star felt a little twitch in one eye. She quickly grabbed the loot, any raider equipment she could risk, as well as her pervy little demonsprite before quietly sneaking up the stairs.
“Bwah, that was close!” She gasped once she was out in the pale wasteland sunlight and a good gallop away from that wretched warehouse.
“I was close.” Little Comet wailed plaintively.
“I should’ve just called you Little Cummer.” Distant Star muttered darkly. She felt better now that there was a stretch of cracked highway and a hill between them. Sure, a tiny part of her, particularly that naughty part that was dripping with arousal, was a little sorry to miss out on the fun. But she had a twin sister to show-up, after all. “How the hay did you know the broodclaws wouldn’t have mauled my flank too, knowing Lady Fucker-Luck’s out to get me with a chainsaw dildo and no lube?” She gave her kindlesprite a suspicious look.
“Oh, you had your bestiality encounter setting turned ‘Off’, Star.” Little Comet said, bringing up the settings menu on her PipSub. “I can turn it on if you wanna go back?”
Distant Star rolled her eyes. “No thanks, the moment’s ruined.” She muttered as she came to rest in the dusty shadow of a rocky outcrop.
“Location Discovered - Cumslut’s Relief.” Little Comet announced. “And yet I feel more cockblocked than ever.” The kindlesprite eyed her mistress accusingly, as if it was her fault she wasn’t a broodclaw’s fucktoy yet.
“This is why members should never be allowed to name locations.” Star sighed as she dropped off her salvage against the rock wall and took a much-needed seat.
“You’ve gained enough experience to pick up a new perk, by the way.” The kindlesprite peered over her shoulder. “Oh, please choose ‘cherchez la filly’! That’s my fetish.”
“If I ever find whoever turned the Borderlands into a stupid role-playing game, I will make them choke on my horn.” Star growled as she started sifting through her loot. All in all, it was a surprisingly good find. There was a set of slave barding that had less business being body armour and more legitimacy as a straight jacket, but it’d hold off a shot or two and was certainly better than the typical chainmail bikinis. It even had its own built-in duster with a saddlebag hidden inside carrying enough supplies to allow her to cross the escape zone.There was a water canteen that was fortunately green-coded, meaning it held actual water instead of cum for once. There was even the runic axe that raider had dropped and a few shells for it too.
“Comet, can you link up with this rune axe?” She lifted the firearm in her magical field, peering down the iron sights experimentally. “And not copulate with it this time? We don’t need another party cannon incident.”
“Ooooh, it’s a CRIT-A80 pump-action 20 gauge combat rune-axe.” Little Comet cooed as she floated down into the rune axe’s hilt, her ethereal form merging into the cold steel. “Pity it’s just a toy replica. At least the dummy rounds go ‘bang’.”
“Shush, you. No breaking immersion.” Distant Star chided her kindlesprite-companion-turned-rune-axe.
“Hmm, PipSub-weapon synchronization rate is 15%.” Comet’s voice reported from within the rune axe. “Your perception is so bad you probably can’t fellate a dragon cock if it was draped over your face.” The little sprite seemed thoughtful for a moment. “But I’d still love to see you try~”
“Sometimes I wonder if you come with a warranty. Or a stash of booze.” Star muttered darkly at her sassy little rune axe. She hefted her newfound equipment and climbed up onto the rocky outcrop. She shielded her eyes as a gust of wind brushed her cornflower mane. The vast expanse of the cold gray wasteland stretched out below her all the way to the tall glowing spire of the Core, the Borderlands’ last standing settlement. “I think I see the escape zone. We’re not all that far after all!” She squeed with glee, spotting the telltale pink haze of ‘Sanctuary’, the haven for all runaway slaves. “C’mon, I wanna be there so I can watch Sun Shower’s face as I cross the finish line.”
“Oooh, confidence. I like it.” Her rune axe chirped. “Makes it all the more delicious when a slaver breaks you on his cock.”
“I swear I liked you more before they gave you a voice.” Distant Star muttered as she climbed back down. “Now navigate. And if you lead me into a slaver den, I will drop you in a kennel full of Tower-wolf puppies.”
“Oooh, I love it when you turn all dominant on me. It makes it so much sweeter when I get to watch you...ahn! Oooh, n-no f-faaair! H-hyahn! M-mercy! Aaahn! Mmmnnhhh!” Her rune axe squeaked helplessly as she mercilessly slid it in and out of its sheath. She paid the moaning, quivering axe or its warranty no mind as she trotted on down the road.
She didn’t get very far before she came across what looked like an abandoned waystation on the side of the old highway. It wasn’t all that abandoned as it turned out. She was quick to drop into cover behind a crash-landed sky-chariot as soon as she heard the muffled moans and squeaks. If there was one thing you can count on in the Borderlands; Where there are orgasming slaves, there were slavers.
She leaned out for a cautious peek. She spotted one royal-pink crystal pony slave mare suspended upside down, her rear hooves strapped into manacles hanging from the ceiling of the old cart wash. Her bound forehooves, mane and tail were weighed down by a concrete brick. One of the (conveniently phallic) stiff-bristled cart brushes hanging broken from the ceiling had been stuffed deep inside her dripping, twitching marehood. A slaver stallion gripped the brush as a hoof-hold as he reared up and mounted the slave’s upside down muzzle. The slave gasped loudly at the sudden weight and lurch on the brush-dildo stuffing her foalhole, allowing the slaver to grip her open mouth and push his stallionhood in.
Distant Star couldn’t help but notice the crystal mare’s enthusiastic squee just before it died away wetly around the invading cock. She bit her lip a little as she watched her suckle hungrily on the invading phallus as if her life depended on it. She was maybe a little overexcited for a slave, but damn was it hot watching her lips and tongue work that cock deeper and deeper inside her.
Her ears perked up as she picked up an approaching voice. “Flock me, those four sure are taking their sweet time on their little hunting trip. How long does it take to hunt down one little mare trapped in a warehouse.” A masked and collared gryphon hen in full raider gear muttered as she walked up beside the busy stallion. “I swear, Sundae, I’m surrounded by stupid. Sexy stupid, but stupid nonetheless.”
“Hay, that gryphon looks familiar.” Star whispered to her kindlesprite companion. “I hope it’s not somepony I’ve shot before. That’d be awkward.”
“Must’ve been somepony you knew from ballet class.” Little Comet’s voice chuckled. “We have a match. That’s Gloria, the Deep Claw, leader of the Breaker Legion. Apparently she’s raided 7 slaver camps in the last month alone.” Comet’s voice replied as her PipSub lit up to show the gryphon’s smirking mug on a wanted poster. “There’s a bounty of 200 slave tags on her capture and enslavement.”
“Lady Luck go suck on phoenix cock.” Star muttered. “Seriously, a named mook? Could today get any worse?”
“Yes.” Her axe said. “That waystation is the only exit out of this region for 4 miles. The other exits are either raider camps, tentacle pits or entirely boring.”
“I swear my life is a badly written fanfic.” Star groaned, burying her face in her forehooves.
“Or a really good clopfic, if you let yourself get captured.” The axe visibly drooled as it watched the slave mare’s thorough facefucking.
“Every minute they waste bucking about is another minute we’re not cashing in on these slaves.” The gryphon waved a claw at the chain gang of slave mares kneeling by the green water troughs outside. A few seemed exhausted, though the silly little smiles on their glowing faces and the cum leaking from their marehoods told much more. A few did a better job of acting terrified and hopeless. A few more practical slaves took the opportunity to have a moment’s respite, drinking from the troughs and preparing themselves for the ordeal ahead. Distant Star knew exactly what awaited them – thorough test-drives by potential buyers at whatever slave market they get taken to followed by a night of being broken in by their new owners.
“It’ll be...nnghh….worth it, Glory.” The stallion grunted as his balls slapped wetly against the crystal pony’s snoot. “Did’ya see? Mmnnh. That mare was….grhhh...a black collar. She’d be….oooh...worth a mint if we…nnghh….return her to her Master.”
Distant Star’s hoof wandered up to the black slave collar around her neck. Those raiders who tried to hunt her were part of this band of switches. A tiny grin played on her lips. Karma is a big bad female diamond dog.
“You’re not seeing the big picture, Sundae Sprinkles.” Gloria rolled her eyes at the stallion. “We’ll get plenty selling these. I mean, look at this cocksleeve.” She curled her claws around the crystal mare’s neck, gripping the swollen cock bulge under her slave collar. The slave visibly twitched and trembled at her grip. “A cock-hungry cumdump this well-trained would fetch a fortune. We just need to stage a little demonstration at an auction and we’re gold.” She emphasized by kneading his cock through her neck. The mare’s body stiffened, her back arching tightly as her furiously winking foalhole spurted bursts of marecum around the brush crammed deep into it with each blissful spasm.
Her muffled cries of ecstasy only served to massage every inch of stallion meat in her throat and mouth even tighter. “What’s that? You agree with me?” The gryphon smirked at the groaning stallion, his hips stiffened with his stallionhood gripped in a vice tighter than heaven’s gate. “Good boy.” She gave the slave’s rump a smack, drawing out a cry that squeezed the stallion’s cock from tip to hilt. The stallion groaned his release, bucking his nuts into the slave’s face as his rod shot bursts of cum straight into the slave mare’s belly.
“Now that we’re on the same page, how about we start rounding up these slaves for the road, eh?” Gloria grinned as she milked the stallion’s cock through the slave mare’s neck while slapping the mare’s clit raw, mercilessly working them both through their orgasms. The stallion grunted, his head bobbing bonelessly in either agreement, pleasure or both. The crystal pony slave could only twitch weakly as the stallion pumped every last drop out of his drool-soaked balls into her mouth, coating her tongue and throat in his hot seed.
“Ugh, fine, fine…” Sundae Sprinkles, the raider stallion, grunted as he slowly pulled his seed-soaked cock out of the used slave’s mouth, leaving behind little string of cum that he quickly wiped on the mare’s face. “Just give me a sec to refill this slave’s bomb collar. You might as well clean me off until I seal your mouthpussy again, slave.”
The slave mare moaned raspily as she lavished the twitching stallionhood with her tongue, licking every drop of cum clean. Sundae Sprinkles hummed in enjoyment as he busied himself with refilling a penis-gag with the contents of a bottle marked ‘Warning: High Excitant’.
“Detecting a volatile mixture of starbright, stampede and deeptight in that bottle.” Little Comet analyzed. “And possibly a whole buckload of crazy.”
“Isn’t that one of those ‘clocktail’ mixtures? I’m guessing that mix would make you as tight and horny as a deer in a straight jacket.” Distant Star squinted to get a better look. The stallion held the mare’s jaw open as he pushed the penis gag inside before securing the strap tightly to her collar. The mare gave a whimpering moan as he pressed a remote-like device to her collar. An indicator lamp on the slave’s collar buckle turned from red to green.
“It looks like it has been modified into rapidly-absorbed lube. One blast of that in the right place and forget running, you probably won’t be able to think straight. Designing something like that’s evil. To fill a bomb collar with it, that’s just plain insane.” Little Comet’s lips curled into a wicked grin. “I like these raiders. Can you please hurry up and get caught, Star? I want to see them stuff you full of that lube before breeding you senseless.”
“I have a better idea.” A little smile playing across Star’s lips. “I’m going to go down there and buck some raider rump.”
“Sure, with the army you’re hiding up your marehood, right?” Little Comet chuckled. “Wait, why’re you clopping? Star? No, you don’t have an army hidden up there….do you?”
Footnote: Level Up.
New Perk Available. Check your PipSub to choose your new perk.