She really needs a clock in here, Trixie thought, smothering a giggle, although there was a great deal of truth to that. Given some warning, or anticipation, most mages could set an “internal time clock” that was quite accurate. Of course, the stronger the mage, the more accurate the timekeeping . . . and the longer the “clock” could run.

(It never occurred to Trixie that keeping her clock —on those occasions when she’d “set” it— accurate to within three seconds over the course of a week was anything noteworthy)

She did know it was just over two hours since she had started her clock, but as she hadn’t immediately done so, she had no idea just how long Twilight had been “cocooned”. Trixie hadn’t left her position since placing the dispersion ring on Twilight, positioned just a couple of steps directly in front of, and facing, her; standing there hipshot, left hind leg cocked and relaxed, with just the very tip of her hoof touching the ground.

Although quite curious and intrigued about this room, nothing was going to distract Trixie from watching over the utterly helpless alicorn in front of her. Trixie was still feeling a gentle warmth, a tingly tenderness, at the absolute trust Twilight was extending to her. Granted, perhaps she hadn’t anticipated having her own dispersion ring used on her, so she hadn’t been truly helpless prior to that point. But once Trixie had ringed her . . . oh, yes; yes indeed! From that point onward Twilight was absolutely, utterly and completely, helpless. Trixie had no idea what that . . . thing . . . was called —which was why she had mentally categorized it as “cocoon” for the nonce— but having watched Twilight encase herself inside that, it was blatantly obvious that, without magic, there was no way in Tartarus she was getting free on her own.

The cocoon wasn’t as flawless as she’d first thought, although she slowly realized that what she’d thought of as blemishes or imperfections were, quite possibly, something different. Her brows lowered as she more closely scrutinized the cocoon, and then she nodded to herself, happily humming in satisfaction. One would have to look close to see the barely-perceptible modifications, because that, she grasped, were exactly what they were: alterations to adapt to her wings. Obviously she’d had this custom made —simply seeing how perfectly it conformed to her shape and size made it perfectly clear that this had been custom-fitted to her— back when she’d been a unicorn. Even Trixie knew how fragile feathers could be, and between the bulk of the wings themselves along with the delicacy of the feathers, Twilight would have risked serious damage securing her alicorn body in a cocoon meant to fit her unicorn one.

For about another minute Trixie just listened to her captive’s soft, slow, rhythmic breathing. It almost sounded as if she were asleep, although Trixie suspected Twilight was most likely twilighting —she smothered a giggle at the inadvertent pun— rather than actually sleeping. Her mind drifted back to the moment she’d slipped the dispersion ring on, and the series of enchantment-aborted magical spells that had surged from the alicorn princess immediately after. Again, having no real experience with dispersion rings, she wasn’t sure how accurately she could judge the power of a spell a dispersion ring was blunting, but it had sure felt as if, at the very end, Twilight had been seriously straining.

Nibbling lower lip Trixie ruminated on things. At the time, she had felt as if Twilight was panicked, and had frantically been struggling to get free. But, she reasoned, that couldn’t truly had been the reason, because mere seconds after she ceased those struggles then she’d lapsed into slow, steady, serene respiration. So . . . instead of a panicked reaction, perhaps that was more like “testing her bonds”, similar to how Trixie, once she’d secured herself, liked to strain against her restraints, as if assuring herself of their inescapability?

Whatever the reason —although she was certain-sure it was the latter— one thing Trixie was absolutely positive about was the unconditional trust Twilight was showing in Trixie. Unless and until Trixie —or somepony else— removed that ring, Twilight was never getting free. And since Trixie had no idea of the spells required to unlock the outer Laboratory door (and pretty certain that whatever spells they might be, anyway, that they were personally keyed to only Twilight anyhow) if she walked out of this room . . . walked out of this Lab . . .

An icy shiver rippled through her. If Trixie did that . . . Twilight was doomed. Trixie was positive that both the Laboratory and this private room were heavily shielded, and, given the Princess of Friendship’s magical training and inherent power, those shields were probably strong enough to block even Princess Luna and Celestia. And, once outside, Trixie would have no way to get back inside . . . assuming she’d even want to do that.

Deep inside her innermost core, where that black bleakness never left, uncoiled the desire to do just that. Take vengeance against the pony who had beaten Trixie, who had sentenced her to a life of misery, despair and loss. Who had been responsible for ruining her dreams, shattering the only thing in her life that had meant everything to Trixie. Let her enjoy the same heartache and hopelessness that Trixie did every waking moment, and, quite often, even in her dreams. Punish the upstart who had tricked her into giving up the Alicorn Amulet, and, in doing so, had robbed Trixie of her just due.

Shifting her weight evenly back onto all four hooves, Trixie’s heart started thudding, a heat of a far different sort, and source, swelling inside her, expanding outwards from her core. Her vision started tunneling, until her focus consisted of just the helpless alicorn before her. Memories of the last few years, starting with the disastrous first visit to Ponyville, rapidly replayed in her mind, one misery after another. Let’s see how you like it for a change!

But then two other memories surfaced, so difficult to hold onto, as the now raging blaze inside her threatened to consume them both.

Shhhh. Shhhh. Just relax. Don't worry, just relax. I will keep you safe. Nothing on, above or below Equestria will bother you as long as I'm watching over you.

I was never upset at you the first time you were in Ponyville. The blunt fact is, Trixie, that everything that happened your first visit here was somepony else's fault. Let's go backwards, shall we? First off, you had nothing at all to do with an Ursa Minor running riot through town. That was completely Snips' and Snails' fault. So right there I would never have held you responsible. But here's something you've never known: I felt a great deal of respect and admiration for you because of what you did.

Oh, how that inner conflagration roared and blazed even more furious, seeking to devour, to destroy! How could the gentle, inner warmth of those memories possibly compete, let alone prevail, against that?

On their own, they stood no chance. But they weren’t on their own, as Trixie valiantly struggled, battling and toiling, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth, absolutely refusing . . . to . . . yield.

Growling and snarling, the raging flames of vengeance and retribution retreated to their lair, beaten for now but not defeated.

Violently shuddering, shivering as if having fallen through the ice of a frozen pond in the middle of winter, Trixie panted, breath whuffling through flared nostrils. She still hadn’t completely regained her composure —in fact, had actually resorted to grounding and centering as if preparing a major casting— when her ears pricked forward, catching a change to Twilight’s breathing.

Fully alert now, her entire concentration focused on the leather-encased alicorn, Trixie watched and listened. As Twilight’s breathing took on more of an “awake” rhythm, her leather cocoon started lightly creaking as she gently shifted inside.

Suddenly Trixie was torn between nervous giggles and true anxiety. Was this how Twilight felt when Trixie woke up? For, indeed, Trixie had no idea what was expected of her. Obviously, right at the start there were two choices: leave the ring on and then release Twilight, or take the ring off and let Twilight free herself. Nibbling her lower lip Trixie pondered matters. There were, of course, her own daydreams and fantasies; she could use those as templates; her cheeks furiously heated as she considered some of them. But, starting like a tiny spark in the depths of tinder, others feelings, other desires, began to blossom.

Yes, Trixie could be bossy and commanding. Remember what you told Twilight that morning last week, when she was dithering about what to do? Simply remembering what she’d told Twilight then —that, as the situation had currently obtained (said situation being Trixie still helplessly restrained) whatever Twilight might plan on doing 'afterwards' was entirely in her own hooves, as Trixie had been in no position to gainsay whatever she might choose to do— had Trixie wriggling, had little electric jitters dancing along her nerves.

Anxiously reaching out with a forehoof, she very lightly trailed the hooftip from the back of Twilight’s neck, down the spine to the shoulders. Leather softly creaked, accompanied by very muffled little hums. “Are you ready?” Trixie softly murmured. Yes, there were a myriad of things she would like to do to, and with, a helplessly restrained Twilight; Trixie did have paybacks due, after all, and ones that Twilight had confessed to owing. And Trixie was also enjoying imagining Twilight’s probable reaction when the time came for Trixie to see just how ticklish the alicorn princess really was. But . . .

But, for now . . .

“Trixie is not sure what to do, or what is expected of her,” she confessed, even as she lifted the ring up and off, depositing in the neck pouch before returning it to the inner tray. “So, if you could help instruct her?”

Her feelings were deeply wounded when Twilight just started giggling. However, it only took an instant for the heartsick unicorn to understand, and, once she had, she caught herself smothering giggles as well. Trixie could barely hear Twilight’s mirth, it was so muffled, and at that Trixie remembered that thing Twilight had affixed over her muzzle. That must have been a gag, she reasoned. Trixie had no idea just how effective one is!

Effective in more ways than one, she hotly blushed as she squirmed, suddenly desirous of having one used on her to see what that was like.

Flickering magenta danced like heat lightning, coruscating about the cocoon. Before Trixie could blink thrice, all the straps had been unbuckled, all the lacings loosened, the zippers retracted with a rippling buzz, and the leather “skin” peeled back and off, leaving Twilight still lying on her folded legs and barrel, and with the gag still on.

The silently observing unicorn’s eyes rounded as she took in Twilight’s countenance. Her coat was completely covered in a sheen of sweat, while her throat and upper chest looked soaked and . . . sticky? Her eyes grew even rounder when, as Twilight unfastened the two legs straps, softly groaning as she did, a stream of saliva trickled down from the gag.

Perhaps Trixie can wait to try that after all.

“What may Trixie do?” she softly asked, then gasped as Twilight finally turned her head enough to meet Trixie’s eyes. Twilight’s purple eyes seemed almost all pupil, with an intense dreamy look to them. Just seeing that had Trixie’s heart skip beats, and spawned a new flock of butterflies. “Here; let Trixie help.” Suiting action to words, she helped the groggy-acting, dazed appearing, alicorn to her hooves. When she started purring at Trixie, the unicorn swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly drying as her belly tingled and throbbed.

Weaving on her hooves, she wobbled towards the rectangular, adjacent room, leaning against Trixie for support. The lights inside turned on as they passed the threshold, revealing a modest, but well-appointed, bathroom. Stopping at the sink, Twilight finally removed the gag, a low, soft groan as it slipped free at last. Trixie wrinkled her nose as a stream of saliva followed the mouth-filling ball of the gag.

Yes, perhaps Trixie can wait to try that.

Her lips curved into a grin even as she wriggled in shy embarrassment, seeing the marks on Twilight’s head and muzzle, recalling Twilight’s exact words: ‘Does it help any to know that I recognized that because I've seen the exact same thing when I look in a mirror after I'm done?’

Twilight had to have followed her thoughts, because a dreamy grin spread across her face. “Tol’ya!”

Cheeks igniting, Trixie ducked her head, before peeking up and shyly grinning back. Straightening up and growing serious, she looked the wobbly, semi-spaced-out alicorn in the eyes. “What can Trixie do?”

“Baf.”

“Hot, warm, or cold?”

“Warm, please. Jus’ wanna soak a bit; get cleaned up.”

It was foal’s play to get the tub set up. Finding Epsom salts amongst the supplies Trixie added a goodly amount as the tub filled, then led Twilight over, and helped her settle inside. Deeply sighing in bliss the dopey alicorn sank up to her chin before closing her eyes and semi-drifting off.

While Twilight soaked, Trixie paced over to the sink and started washing the gag Twilight had left there. Trixie knew about leather: unless it was properly waterproofed, getting leather wet could stain, weaken, or even damage it. A little bit of surreptitious exploration and Trixie discovered a small basket containing high-quality leather care products, everything from saddle soap, to conditioner, to waterproofing. Softly humming to herself as she worked, Trixie first rinsed, then soaped, rinsed again, then conditioned the gag . . . except for that odd inner ball. That she just rinsed off very well before patting it dry.

Now that she could clearly see it, Trixie marveled at the construction and design of it. The main part was shaped as a hollow, truncated cone, sized to fit over a muzzle. Attached to the inside, at the smaller part of the cone, was a roundish squishy leather ball, obviously filled with something like dried grain or fine-grained sand. Huh. What a clever idea.

Checking on the drowsy alicorn Trixie then went back into the main room. Once there she thoroughly cleaned, then dried, Twilight’s cocoon, inside and out, before carefully folding it and replacing it back in the trunk. The gag went into the upper tray; the upper tray back into the trunk; the trunk closed.

Back in the bathroom she checked once again on Twilight, who was now sitting more upright, both forelegs draped to the outside of the tub. Hearing the unicorn enter, Twilight opened her eyes and smiled at Trixie, and something in that smile made Trixie’s steps falter a moment as, once again, her heart skipped beats. “That was . . . sooooo wonderful,” she purred, a deep, low throaty croon that sent shivery tingles rippling through Trixie. “I think . . . no; no, I’m absolutely positive, that this was the best it’s ever been. Thank you Trixie.”

Trixie felt herself wriggling in pleasure at the sincere praise.

“I have to admit,” the enervated alicorn lazily drawled, “I was a bit surprised when you slipped my dispersion ring on.” Her cheeks momentarily turned a soft pink. “I’d forgotten it was in there. I mean,” she amended, sounding more like her usual self, “I knew it was there. After all, that’s where I always keep it. But I’m so used to it being there that I didn’t think about it. I was sorta, well . . .” she tapered off, before slumberous eyes gazed at Trixie, “I was sort of nervicitedly eager.” Stretching out a little, Twilight closed her eyes before continuing. “I’ve never had anypony I felt comfortable with enough to talk about my, ah, “interests”, let alone show them. Until you. I did warn you, that morning, that I was being a bit selfish; that I wanted things perfect not just for you, but also for me. That I was hoping to find somepony to share my interests, and desires, and longings with.”

Her lids gently parted, and Trixie seemed to see lambent flames flicker deep inside. “I can’t begin to tell you how it felt when I discovered that you, too, liked being tied up. I’d already hoped we could be friends, you know, and now it looked like we could be special friends.” Suddenly Twilight sat more upright, her eyes opening fully as she took a deep breath before gazing at Trixie. “I’m not freaking you out, am I? Disgusting you?”

“No!” Trixie blurted. “Why would you ever think that?”

“It’s not so much that I’m thinking that, as I am concerned about you. I’m afraid that because I’ve wanted this for so long that I may be greedily pushing the pace faster than you’re ready for, or even want, for that matter.” Twilight paused a moment before whispering, uncertainty in her tremulous tone, “Am I?”

Lowering her head, gazing at the floor, Trixie gently scraped the tip of a forehoof backwards several times as she thought. “Trixie suspects that, yes, you are, and have been, a bit . . . enthusiastic about things.” Before Twilight could cringe and shrink into herself, the contemplative unicorn added, “Trixie also suspects, should she have been the one aware of matters for several months, long months to dream, to imagine, to yearn . . . that she might be, ah, enthusiastic herself.”

“Do I look OK?”

Trixie casually glanced sideways at Twilight as she anxiously whispered. They had just entered the main floor of the castle, and just up ahead were several servants. “If you are worried that somepony might see “after I’m done” signs,” she conspiratorially whispered back, “then the answer is “no”. But Trixie should warn you that, at the moment, you are looking as nervous as a filly with powdered sugar all over her muzzle facing a parent asking where the last donuts have gone off to.”

Trixie smugly smiled as the anxious alicorn started spluttering, fighting back a sudden gale of laughter. Then, becoming serious, she assured, “You look fine Twilight. You’re squeaky clean and completely dry; your coat is brushed, and so is your mane and tail. Trixie would not have let you out in public otherwise.”

Indeed, Trixie had attended to Twilight, letting the alicorn indulgently relax in hedonistic pleasure while Trixie shampooed mane and tail, then lathered her coat before sluicing her clean with mild warm water. Once out of the tub Trixie used several fluffy towels to thoroughly dry her, then finished off by brushing her coat, mane and tail, telling Twilight to just relax and savor the afterglow of her “unwind time”.

The smile that Twilight bestowed on her felt like the sun’s summer warmth as it came out from behind heavy, brooding clouds. “Are you sure you can’t stay?” she wistfully asked.

“As much as Trixie would like to,” and the flattered unicorn was quite sincere at that, “Trixie does have a lot of preparation to do, and only four days to do it. Well,” she amended, “three days, actually” as the day was already into early evening.

Before either could say anything else, they —well, essentially just Twilight— were swarmed by servants and staff, including a rather miffed appointments secretary. Deeply sighing Twilight surrendered to her duties, but only after making sure to first appoint one of her staff to see that Trixie was given a writ of credit before she left.

The sun was low on the horizon, the air crisp and chill, as Trixie paced outside the double doors of the Castle of Friendship. Pausing at the very top of the stairs Trixie gazed down the avenue towards Ponyville, seeing lights there beginning to flicker as the residents began preparing for nightfall. It was too late to conduct any business, she realized and grudgingly accepted, as she slowly descended the staircase at last. Well, perhaps it was for the best, she reasoned. There was a lot of planning for the fireworks display she had in mind. It was closer, actually, to a choreography than a mere, simple series of various fireworks being sent into the starry night.

Trixie deeply shuddered, and not from the chill of the evening air. Honestly, if this wasn’t for Princess Luna’s sake, and to also please Twilight . . . there just wasn’t enough bits in all of Equestria to have convinced Trixie to break her solemn vow to never perform ever again.

She just hoped she didn’t live to regret her capitulation.