Keeping my emotions in check has been difficult (to state the obvious). Sometimes I wish I didn't have them at all... but don't the virtues of friendship require maintaining an appropriate emotional balance? Isn't the feeling of altruism essential to motivate friendship properly in the first place? I need to think more about this. There aren't many options for keeping myself sane right now.

At the end of the previous entry I glossed over the Glossary stuff (pun not intended, but happily serendipitous). However, a few of the exchanges between Princess Cadance and myself are worth going back over in more detail. In particular, I refer to gender issues and other instances of vamponies being complete bucking idiots.

"Ask me questions, Twilight. We have a few hours before we'll be expected to audience with mmm, um... with your brother," said Princess Cadance.

I rolled my eyes. "Good grief... Look, you can call him Master. It's not like I'm going to get any more creeped out than I already am. So, next question: what is a Master?" (Yes, the Glossary already covers this, but the conversation below covers more ground than simple terminology.)

"A Master is a vampony who assumes the most dominant role in our society. Masters tend to be final arbiters for decision-making, but not always," she said. "They can choose to called by any title they wish, such as Mistress."

"Wait, can mares be Mistresses?" I asked. (Maybe this only meant Big Macintosh crossdressing.)

"Of course mares can be Masters," said Cadance, with a light shrug. "It's less common because the psychology of most mares is not appropriate for a Master's social role, but of course it's possible. Sex and gender aren't restricted like you're thinking. In fact, that kind of intolerance is precisely what we're trying to eradicate from society." (I remain unconvinced.)

"But do you really think stallions should run everything?" I asked. "If their psychology makes them want to be in charge, isn't that kind of ambition a potential danger to society?"

Cadance shook her head. "Ignoring the fact I never said 'stallions should run everything', ambition is not always a bad thing. There's nothing wrong with a competent stallion, like Master Prince Shining Armor, being in charge of things. It's true that ambition can push a pony into a situation they shouldn't be in, but most stallions aren't like that. Even for those who are ambitious, it's not necessarily a flaw."

I frowned. "Cadance, mares have always been in charge, and society is far better because..." I began to say, then immediately felt a tsunami of guilt smash into me. "Wait, I didn't mean it like that. The way I just said it, that sounded... like, really sexist." I closed my eyes and scrunched up my muzzle in self-directed anger.

"Forgive me, Twily, but that sounded sexist because it was sexist," she accused. "It's okay, though! We all have something to learn, even alicorns with centuries of experience like Celestia and Luna. You should try to think more carefully about where those opinions come from so that you can keep a more open mind about stallions. They're our fathers, our brothers, our sons, our neighbors, our guards, our workers, and our husbands. Very few are bad ponies, and they're nothing alike one another, either: you can't stereotype them uniformly. Comparing stallions to mares is no different than comparing pegasi to unicorns."

I opened my eyes, but kept my gaze low. "Okay, I'm sorry, you're right. There's nothing wrong with a stallion being in a position of authority," I admitted. "And actually, I'd even be open to the idea of an alicorn prince, if that's somehow possible. If not for all this vampony stuff, I think it'd be pretty cool to see my BBBFF with a set of wings." I smiled shyly.

I was trying to be egregiously progressive-sounding, but after I said it, I realized that I actually meant it! There isn't anything wrong with that line of reasoning, is there? Throughout this mess, I've been thinking that stallions were just controlled by their balls, and that this was the whole problem with the Order. But mares can be just as thoughtless, and just as horny. (I've finally learned that Cadance was right all along about 'tuning' mares.) And on the converse side, being a stallion doesn't mean you have to be like that. I don't think Brother was like this at all before being infected. He's always been sensible. Being male isn't his problem. Being male isn't a problem at all.

Sweet Celestia, how I miss the Shining Armor I used to know. I used to feel so safe in his legs, and I probably never will again. I'm going to cry if I keep writing about this...

I was staring into space a while, lost in my thoughts. Cadance finally interrupted the silence. "I think that's a great idea, Twily, and I'd love to see it happen too," she said in a soft, soothing voice. "Now, would you like to hear the rest of the terminology used by the Order?"

"Yeah," I said, nodding my head. Then I looked up into Princess Cadance's gentle eyes, and I paused again in thought.

I had forgotten how much her eyes resembled mine: they're the same color, except hers are a little lighter in shade. But Cadance's eyes also look like Princess Celestia's eyes, manely because of how she does her makeup. She looks a little like both of us, so it's not surprising that I've always seen both of us within her. As a foal, I used to think of Cadance as a kind of living "bridge" between myself and Celestia. She was a model of who I could be if I tried my very hardest. Even though I didn't have royal blood like my foalsitter did, maybe I could become an alicorn too, in similar fashion: by doing my absolute best, and never giving up. Because of Cadance's guidance and the bar she set for me, I proved it was possible. Today, looking into her eyes is like looking into a mirror. (Well, except that in the mirror, I'm wearing a gold collar and fucking my own brother.)

I achieved what Princess Cadance did, and perhaps I've even outdone her in some ways. However, I still look up to Princess Celestia. She's unreachably high above me—forever beyond my grasp, or anypony else's. Even my comprehension of who and what she is... I know virtually nothing more of her today than I did on that fateful day I met her.

Did I ever truly make you proud of me? How have I done, Celestia? Why won't you tell me anymore?

As mentioned previously, the terminology we discussed is available in the Glossary. After my questions to disambiguate the various terms had been answered, I still had more to ask—and debate.

"I guess I understand what you mean by 'cunt' and 'bitch'... but it doesn't matter what you want those words to mean. Those are unacceptable terms for a mare," I said. "They're demeaning. They treat the mare like she's some kind of object for a stallion's pleasure."

"Cunts aren't always mares, Twily, but they love being called 'cunt'. That's what makes them cunts," said Cadance.

My brow wrinkled as I tried to parse what she said. Was that a circular argument? I wasn't sure. But, loathe as I am to admit this, I suspect I might be a 'cunt', by that definition. Deep down, it feels like Cadance calling me that... is right, somehow. Or Shining Armor. Okay, especially Shining Armor.

Now, I need to be clear: I don't have the slightest clue why I feel this way. Clearly, I will need extensive therapy after this nightmare. And to face the cold, hard facts, maybe I'm already 'broken' to the point where I can't be fixed again. It's likely I'm permanently screwed up and unfit to live anywhere other ponies exist. Maybe I'll go live alone on a deserted isle after I've saved Equestria this one, final time. Such a sad fate for the Princess of Friendship, right? Boo hoo, whatever. It's not like I don't deserve the cards I've been dealt. I'm pretty sure I've earned this suffering a hundred times over by allowing myself to sink into the depravity that's ruined my mind and heart. Bleah... I hope I can stop this self-deprecation someday, even if I am already ruined.

"So what about the materials?" I said, trying to change the topic. "I'm guessing your gold collar means you're a Lady, and if so, you're probably emancipated? Or at least your wings are?"

Cadance beamed, and I felt mildly proud. Then, somehow, I felt ashamed for feeling proud, both feelings tugging at my heartstrings at the same time. (Journal, I never knew there were so many bizarre combinations of emotions until this whole mess started. I am currently testing the limits of pony sanity, and I have no idea how I'll know when I finally go insane. It's probably already happened.)

"That's almost right. I'm actually not emancipated, because these clips are the heavier kind. Baubles that damage your ability to use your body long-term aren't the only ones available for non-emancipated mares. It really depends on how much freedom Master wishes you to have. Being emancipated is a step further than wearing baubles which encumber you: it means you have no encumbrance whatsoever," said Cadance. "Your baubles still block the wolf, but they don't impair your abilities at all. For example, hollows are shoes for earth ponies which block manumancy, and hobblers are hollows which also weigh several stones apiece. Emancipated earth pony shoes are just tight shoes that constrict the hoof enough to block the wolf, without being heavy or blocking manumantic grip."

"I don't really understand all the baubles yet," I said. "You said Rarity was going to give me more information on them—and on the materials used for badging. Will that be later today?"

"It should be, yes. But even without that information, you're starting to pick up on some of the nuances already. Very good, Twily!" said Cadance, and she smiled brightly as she reached out and stroked my mane. It felt like I was a dog being praised for taking a crap in the right place.

The horrifying thing? I enjoyed being praised like this, and I smiled a silly smile despite all the shame welling within my gut. If I were a vampony, that shame wouldn't be there anymore, and obeying... it would be automatic, wouldn't it?

I feel so desperate to please others, Journal. Nearly my entire life, I've been trying with all my might to please Princess Celestia. And now that I have friends, I need to please them, too. It's so important, I can't accurately quantify it. It's more important to me than the blood pumping through my veins and arteries.

I need the ponies I care about to be happy with me. Maybe even ponies I don't care about, to be honest. I want Cadance to be happy with me right now, even though she's completely insane. I need her to love me. That need for love is primal and unhealthy, but it's a big part of who I am. It makes me think and act irrationally, and it's dangerous. It is my largest flaw, and yet at the same time, it is my most defining personality trait. I don't think I can ever change it. I'd clearly be a better pony if I did, but I'd also be a totally different pony from Twilight Sparkle.

Pinkie Pie is like this too, and she might even be worse than I am in some ways. I think it's what we have most in common. I understand all this now, and my captors do, too, I'm certain. I think Shining always knew what I needed. If he hadn't come on so strong, and I hadn't been so anti-sex... Maybe I would have been persuaded at that fateful dinner.

Dear Sun and Moon, I'm scared. I'm really, really scared.

Cadance continued her praise. "I'm very proud of you, Twily," she said as my cheeks continued to redden. "Until you get a chance for some one-on-one with the Bearer of Generosity, you can ask me about somepony's badging if you aren't sure. I'll give you all the details."

(Note: I do like the exactness of the definitions I've learned, even if some terms are only usable by certain ponies in certain situations. I'm comforted by things like this, Journal. Definitions that aren't ambiguous are things I can understand and correctly apply, even if I don't know the details of what they mean. I can latch onto them in a way that doesn't result in confusion. I'm surprised the Order has such structured elements within it, given how chaotic everything else seems to be.)

I took a deep, cleansing breath. "Honestly, Sis? This sounds more well thought-out and organized than I expected." My voice no doubt betrayed my surprise, but I continued, "So, if I were a... a c-cunt, then I could refer to you as a Lady, but not as a cunt?"

Cadance nodded. "The terms we use are still evolving, but that's the idea. If we were both owned by Master Shining, and were both Ladies or both lost ones, you could call me sister-bitch."

I snorted a laugh, unable to suppress it. "Sorry—it sounded for a moment like you were saying, 'You can call me Sister, bitch!' That's hilarious."

"Well, I suppose that's true too," said Cadance. "Technically I shouldn't call you my bitch unless you're under my control, though..."

Before I had a clue what was happening, my former foalsitter had picked me up in her legs, tossed me onto the bed, jumped up on the bed herself, and cuddled up next to me. As she pulled me into a close snuggle, I nearly panicked. My heart was beating a thousand times per minute (not really, but it felt that way), and then she gently nosed at my ear.

I closed my eyes as her warm breath tickled my ear. "Would you like me to control you, Twily?" came the tender, breathy whisper... punctuated by a tiny kiss to my cheek, and a gentle tug on the back of my marble collar.

Holy fucking shit.

I've never felt anything like this in my life. Not remotely. And I'm including all the obscene and weird sex from before. My heart caved, Journal. I wanted to scream "YES!" with all my strength. I wanted her, to force me, to ask her, to become a vampony. I'm pretty sure it would have worked. I still want it to happen, even now; even though I can't bring myself to ask her for this of my own free will (thank goodness). The intense validation I imagine from being told to accept things as they are, it's simply indescribable. I don't have words I can write that will do it justice. I don't think those words exist in the dictionary.... no, they don't exist. I'm certain of it. Language itself cannot accurately convey that... that kind of sensation. It's completely and wholly insufficient for the task.

Of course, none of what was happening to me was my fault, was it? I couldn't help what my subconscious mind was hoping. I couldn't help how I felt. I couldn't help my body's natural reactions. I was powerless to all of these things, and I was powerless here in bed with my Sister-in-law and very close friend.

That's when I felt the moisture cooling against my lower thighs as it seeped through my coat, right where the plump, rounded prominence of my vulva rubbed against the bedsheets as I gripped them firmly between my hind knees. And it wasn't disgusting to me at all, even though it meant these sheets would obviously need to be washed for sanitary reasons. It was wonderful, and the crazy thing was it wasn't just the feeling that was wonderful, but something logical, something I couldn't quite put my hoof on. Something objective. It was just... beautiful, even to my mangled sense of right and wrong. It was an amazing and holistic connection taking root right there inside my stupid, damaged, confused, and overly-emotional brain.

Naturally, there was no way to hide my arousal from a vampony—especially when I was quite literally a dripping faucet. Cadance knew exactly what effects her voice and gentle touch were having on my heart; and I knew that; and she knew I knew; and I knew that, as well. We were both smart enough to recurse that knowledge to infinity in the space of a sudden, awestruck, leg-shivering Twilight Sparkle gasp.

At that moment, my mind raced in a futile attempt to make sense of all this. Was it mere arousal that led Cadance to act like this? Had she been honest when she said she thought I was 'pretty'? I still can't believe that arousal can make you do all the crazy stuff she'd already done. It had to be the lobotomy thing that caused Princess Cadance to decide chopping off her horn and giving all the decision-making power to her husband was a good idea (let alone allowing him to launch a preemptive war on two nation-states). I don't think simply being a vampony could make you do things that stupid or crazy. There's something more behind this. There just has to be.

No matter how sexed-up a curse or mutation or a collection of hormones makes you, sex by itself won't cause you to make mistakes like that. It might make you want to fuck your parents, I'll reluctantly admit, but sexual desire doesn't inherently make you stupider. I think I know what it feels like to be overwhelmed with sex at this point (even though I've never been full-vampony). Sex feelings are a turn-on, and a distraction, and they could lead me to make a mistake while I'm having sex; e.g., letting Dash or Pinkie turn me into a vampony (which I wanted to happen in both cases), or maybe doing something illegal (sexually) like having sex in a Manehattan elevator, or (I really hope not, but maybe) even chopping my horn off. But those are all split-second stupid decisions I could only make when I'm on the edge of a powerful orgasm. There's no way vamponies are constantly on the edge of orgasm. I can tell just by looking at them and talking to them.

The point I'm trying to get to is that sex doesn't make me less rational when it comes to a long-term decision, such as anything that requires thought and planning. No amount of sex could convince me that it isn't wrong to fuck foals (I hate using this language, I really do, but I need to be forceful about this), and even in the heat of the moment there are clear limits—arousal couldn't make me do something insanely stupid like shoving a cactus up my butt (ow, ow, crap—I'm already regretting that example).

But if sex isn't doing this, then what is? Are ponies' brains being reprogrammed in some fashion? Is this all some sort of elaborate game? Are ponies being possessed by some other entity, sort of like an intangible changeling? I've tried speculating, but I can't even brainstorm a single, realistic-sounding possibility. This leads me to an unfortunate conclusion: sex is a part of this in ways I don't yet have the sexual experience to fully understand. I don't think there's any hope of me understanding why Cadance chopped off her horn, at least not in the near term. I don't know what to do if my friends are acting on a completely different logical wavelength, because we can't truly communicate to one another if that's the case. Somepony has to make a breakthrough to allow understanding to pass from one side to the other, and I have significant doubts that the pony who does will be Twilight Sparkle. I don't think I have any realistic hope of convincing Brother that what he's doing is wrong, no matter how many lectures I give him, and that's very distressing.

I hope this nightmare won't require actual violence, but it probably won't matter. My friends don't want to hurt me, clearly, despite them doing it over and over again. And I'm fairly certain I couldn't hurt my friends... especially not when they think they're helping me.

My mind wandered like crazy as I cuddled with Sis. She held me gently but firmly, kissed my cheeks, and stroked my mane and withers. I didn't respond to her question, because I couldn't respond to it. This was all too much for me. All I could do was tuck my muzzle firmly underneath her chin, and hold on to her for dear life.

So, for a short while, I cuddled silently with Sis as she doted on me. I felt bad for not responding to the question she'd asked, especially since I really wanted to tell her how I truly felt. Fortunately, judging by the motherly smile on her face as we lay there in mutual bliss, she didn't seem to need a response.

She already knew.

I might have given in entirely if we'd spent longer than an hour there together, but fortunately, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," said Princess Cadance.

It was Moon Black again. "Your audience is now requested, Princess Twilight Sparkle. You may come as well, Lady Cadance."

And off we went. I left this journal and the invisible ink in the bedroom, opting to take the note paper with me instead. I knew I was going to need to organize things before I'd want to write them down in the journal, especially since I hadn't learned enough out the baubles or materials yet, and I still had questions about the Breakstone. In theory, Rarity and Princess Luna were prepared to give me "answers".

I put "answers" in scare quotes above, because at the time, I wasn't optimistic. I didn't expect anything rational to come out of these conversations. But more importantly, I was very afraid the answers would be rational. What if Brother is in the right, in some bizarre way? Could I be convinced to become a crazy idiot filly fuck-machine wasting her time exchanging bodily fluids in an unhygienic manner? Of course not. Right? But in my mind, I still keep turning over the possibility, even though I know the chance of this is exactly zero. I think that ridiculous hope is still there inside me because it would explain everything else if somehow his actions made sense. But... there's just no way that all of this, and that Shining Armor himself, isn't totally batshit (pun intended) crazy. It's just impossible.

Right?

This entry is getting fairly long, so I'll break here. The next entry (or maybe two, if I keep going long) will cover my interactions with Rarity and Luna, at which point I'll finally be caught up on everything (Luna is waiting patiently for me to finish these entries so that she can finally tell me her story).