Twilight Sparkle stood there in the dark, skin twitching as she shivered. That's funny, she sardonically thought. It didn't feel all that cold just a few minutes ago!

She licked lips that suddenly felt dry as sand. I don't ever remember my belly feeling this queasy, either! Not even when Princess Celestia gave me the “test” of saving the Crystal Empire!

This wasn't the first time Twilight had found herself standing just outside Trixie's wagon for the purpose of which she'd arrived this night. Just like those previous occasions, she was simultaneously shivering and sweating as if she had the ague.

C'mon Twilight, she encouraged herself. You can do this!

Actually, the “doing” wasn't what was fretting her so. It was the potential results —both good and bad— that had her in such a swivet.

She'd plotted and planned; flow-charted and outlined; hypothesized and schematized. The problem was that none of those efforts truly helped, because the root of all that was dependent upon somepony else's reactions.

And poor Twilight was still not very experienced in interponyal skills to feel comfortable about tonight's outcome.

Assuming, of course, she actually did anything this time!

Licking her lips one final time —and offering up a silent prayer for success— Twilight very carefully, using the tiniest manageable trickle of magic possible, opened the drawstring of the pouch around her neck, lifting out the ring held inside. Her tummy knotted up even worse as she held the ring just in front of her.

Because it wasn't just any ring.

It was an enchanted steel dispersion ring.

Due to their nature —and function— rings such as these weren't easy to come by. And actually using one was an entirely different bucket of oats! Especially . . .

Twilight swallowed.

. . . especially when somepony used one without legal authority or permission.

Which, as it happened, she had neither.

Not even being a Princess of Equestria would save her from the consequences of misusing a dispersion ring. But the prospect of being hauled before Princess Celestia, accused of such a shocking act, wasn't affecting her anywhere nearly as potently as was picturing the reason why that would be happening to begin with.

Because for that to occur, it would mean everything leading up to that point had gone horribly wrong, and Twilight simply didn't want to imagine that happening.

She sharply shook her head, realizing she was dithering yet again. Very carefully, one painstaking step at a time, she stealthily approached the rear of the wagon. Once there she very delicately extended her magic aura, this time inside the wagon . . . to one of the almost-microscopic crystals she'd previously emplaced there —Let's just add breaking and entering to all the other charges— several months ago while the owner had been away.

Her knees almost buckled as the image snapped into focus and she got a very clear image of Trixie. She'd most definitely finished her preparations, Twilight noted . . . without any of her usual detached aplomb exhibited under normal circumstances. Then again, there was no way ever she'd mistake this as “normal”, and, indeed, most uncharacteristically, she grew even more flustered rather than less.

Sweet Celestia, please, oh please! she begged, Don't let me mess this up!

Although she'd practiced back at her Palace blindly maneuvering the ring using remote sensing crystals as her “eyes”, now that she was facing the actual moment of truth it seemed much harder than it had during those rehearsals. Then again, she hadn't practiced with a living, breathing target; this horntip jiggled, shifted and swayed from Trixie's breathing and gentle squirms.

Twilight almost panicked at her first miss; the moment the ring tapped Trixie's horn instead of sliding down the jig was up. The second miss was even worse, for the flustered alicorn both sensed and “saw” Trixie's own magic flare up. But before Trixie could begin freeing herself . . .

Breath gusted out from her nostrils as the ring slid down the horn and settled in place, instantly extinguishing the burgeoning magic that had been welling from the now completely helpless unicorn. Her legs felt as rubbery as if she'd just galloped the entire Running of the Leaves, and she badly wished for just a moment or two to catch her breath and regain her composure, but she didn't dare wait. There was simply no way, ever, she'd leave Trixie alone a moment longer than necessary to get inside. That would be cruel!

Opening the lock and latch was foal's play . . . especially considering she'd already done so several times before, both to emplace her crystals and to practice for, well . . . just this moment.

Seconds later, and Twilight was inside, closing the door behind her before taking a few steps and closing the distance, stopping when just a hoofstep away from the snugly-restrained unicorn on the floor. For an instant she paused, feeling as if Big Mac had just kicked her right in the barrel, her eyes rounding like saucers as she stared down at the helpless figure at her hooves.

She might have stood frozen like that until morning, just staring, if Trixie hadn't whimpered, but the sound of that frightened whine snapped Twilight out of her trance like nothing else would have done.

“Shhhhh . . . shhhhhh! Don't be scared Trixie. It's OK. I promise.”

That . . . didn't seem to help. At all. In fact —she felt shocked and numb— it appeared to have the completely opposite effect, in that it didn't seem to calm her down in the least.

For an instant Trixie froze . . . then her body heaved against the restraints as she swelled with righteous indignation and mortified fury.

“Go away!” she screamed . . . or, well, tried to. The multiple wraps around her muzzle, while not truly an effective gag, did much to muffle the volume. “Just . . . go away! I hate you!”

She'd already lost so much that meant something to her, and now Twilight Sparkle, the only pony that had ever seemed willing to outright forgive-and-forget, had just crushed the very last thing of importance to her. As furious as she was, Trixie just wanted to curl up and die, mortified and ashamed beyond words. Already she could hear the laughter, see the pointed hooves, the smirks. She'd be the laughingstock of Equestria; there'd be nowhere she could go that ponies wouldn't be snickering at her.

Twilight rocked back from the virulent hatred radiating from the helpless unicorn before her. Out of all the possible reactions to events that she'd pictured and pre-prepped for, that had not been one of them. She'd only thought her barrel had felt as if kicked . . . now it truly felt that way; Twilight grunted, feeling her breath forcefully expelled.

Oh sweet Celestia! What do I do?

Violently shaking her head back and forth Trixie futilely tried shaking the dispersion ring off her horn. Her bound position was not conducive for that sort of freedom but, even if she'd been completely free it wouldn't have mattered. Everypony else could remove that from her horn excepting only Trixie herself.

“No! Wait! Stop! You'll hurt yourself!” the anguished alicorn blurted. “Trixie, please . . . oh please! Just give me a minute to explain! Please?”

Trixie wasn't at all willing to give this betrayer of trust even another second, but she'd actually whacked her head during her struggles and between the stars spangling her vision and the sobs about to erupt from deep in her chest she paused a moment, trembling as anger and fury was about to shift into mortification and humiliation.

“You . . . you have every right to be angry with me. Oh damn!” she cursed, and that literally shocked Trixie into silence. Twilight never swore!

“I . . . I'm messing this all up!” she continued, and Trixie could hear . . . tears? Why was Twilight sounding as if she was crying?

And then she sharply inhaled, as Twilight started stroking her with a hoof. It was an awkward, fumbling caress, and somehow Trixie sensed it was that clumsy not because she didn't want to do it as much as she didn't know how to do it.

“Listen, please? Just . . . just give me a minute to explain,” she pleaded as her hoof lightly stroked down Trixie's mane.

Suddenly Trixie's fury drained, leaving her feeling cold and empty. She started sobbing, and loathing herself when she couldn't stop, hating showing such weakness in front of a pony that she'd always hoped she might, one day, impress.

Before she knew what was happening she felt herself being surrounded in a cradling web of magic; felt herself lifted upright until sitting on her rump, bandage-bound rear legs stretched out before her . . .

. . . and being held in Twilight's forelegs, cradled against her chest, as her hooves began anew stroking down her mane.

“Shhhh,” she hushed. “It's OK Trixie. I promise. You're safe. I won't ever let anything or anypony hurt you.” Awkwardly at first she began rocking while stroking. “Nopony is going to make fun of you either. I promise.” Even through her choking sobs she clearly heard the flat, absolute conviction in Twilight's voice.

“This . . . this isn't going like I'd hoped,” she said, her voice softer. “I knew I'd screw this up,” she admitted, sounding mortally wounded. “I . . . I've thought about what to do, what to say to you, for months! I never did figure out what to say,” she sadly confessed. “I was afraid I might scare you. Even make you mad. I—,” her voice broke; there was a sniffle, then a whispered, “I never thought I'd make you hate me.”

Almost against her will Trixie felt her sobs begin to ease . . . almost against her will, for there was a deeply buried part of her that responded to those soothing sounds, those gentle caresses.

She was still very angry, still very mortified, and kept whipsawing back and forth between those two extremes. But slowly the anger was easing, while the humiliation eased much faster, for nothing —so far, anyway— that Twilight Sparkle had said or done could possibly be construed that way.

Embarrassing? Well, yes. Being caught in this compromising condition was certainly embarrassing, but nothing at all as crushing as it would be if she was being mocked and laughed at.

Suddenly Trixie stiffened, making an indignant grunt. Twilight had continued making soothing little sounds as she softly spoke, had continued gently stroking —with increased confidence, she noted— down her mane. But the last thing that Twilight had just said sparked another wave of outrage.

I know how important this is to you. I know how it makes you feel.

How dare that infuriating mare condescend to Trixie! How dare she insinuate she knew what this meant to her, what it did for her!

She started to pull and twist away, but Twilight gently, but oddly firmly, cupped Trixie's cheeks between her hooves. She sensed the upswelling aura of the alicorn's magic, and then felt the wrapping unwinding enough from her head to expose the sleep mask, which was then slipped up and off her eyes.

She found herself staring right into Twilight's shimmering violet eyes, her cheeks tracked with tears, their muzzles almost touching. “I know how this makes you feel,” she repeated, and Trixie's jaw would have dropped if it hadn't still been bandage-wrapped at what followed.

“Because I like tying myself up, too.”

The sleep mask was back over her eyes, and the bandage rewound. Trixie hadn't wanted that; she really wanted to see, especially Twilight's eyes and expressions. So she was quite startled —and shockingly, felt a shivery tingle— when Twilight just softly hushed her and told her to hold still.

“There. Better?”

Trixie was just about to complain that, no, it was not better when Twilight did two things that made her shiver even more. One was the softly whispered Not that you can do anything about it. Can you? The other was . . .

Ooooo . . . Twilight did it again. Trixie felt another gentle tingle ripple through her as her captor gently nibbled the very base of her neck a second time.

The base of the neck was a quite complex spot for ponies. Parents nibbled foals there to soothe them. Acquaintances nibbled there as a sign of greeting, while closer friends did so as a sign of affection and fondness.

And lovers did so as a sign of intimacy.

“You have every right to be mad at me,” her alicorn captor softly murmured. “I wouldn't blame you if you are. And if,” Trixie heard Twilight swallow, “you're truly mad enough to bring charges against me for this,” and she felt the ring on her horn tapped by the tip of Twilight's, “or anything else, I won't fight them.”

She gave another little nibble-nuzzle before shifting a bit; Trixie felt herself being gently drawn back against Twilight's chest, sensing from the position that she must be sitting down now, too, and was snuggling? Trixie against her.

“I really am sorry if I scared you, or made you mad at me. I'm sorry,” she paused a moment, “But I don't regret doing this.”

That made Trixie snort in confusion. She blindly sought to turn to head towards Twilight, who softly shushed her and started stroking her mane again.

“You like being tied up, don't you.” Although it was phrased as a question there was no doubt in the befuddled unicorn's mind that it was a statement of fact. She hesitated a moment, embarrassed to admit such a thing, then almost giggled a moment. Considering how Twilight had found her, admitting such a thing shouldn't come as a shock to either of them!

Nevertheless it was still quite embarrassing to admit, and she felt her face grow quite warm as she gave a tiny nod.

“It feels good being helpless, doesn't it.”

Again that tiny nod.

“It feels good to me, too. I like how it feels, and I like how it makes me feel. I've never really had anypony I could talk to about this; I was really hoping you might be that special somepony,” she wistfully said. “I suppose I could have gone about this differently. I'm not sure how, mind you,” she murmured, both hooves gently stroking down down down her mane and along the side of her neck. “I mean, try as I might, I couldn't think of a good way of just knocking on your door and going, 'Hi Trixie! I figured out you like being tied up. So do I. Let's chat!'”

Trixie couldn't stop the little snorted giggle picturing that. But Twilight's next words absolutely stunned her.

“But the more I thought about things, the more I realized I wanted to do things exactly the way I did tonight. Although,” her voice dropped to such a soft whisper that Trixie barely heard her, “I never wanted you to hate me for it.”

“I . . . I don't hate you,” she worked out past the muffling bandages, and was surprised to realize she meant it. Honestly, at the moment she couldn't have said what, exactly, she was feeling. But she knew at least that much.

She heard what sounded like a catched sob; Twilight's stroking faltered for a moment before continuing. “I'm glad,” she whispered. She didn't say anything for quite a few seconds, just kept gently cuddle-stroking.

“There is a reason I wanted to do things exactly as I did tonight,” she repeated. “Because I not only know what it's like being tied up and helpless . . . but I also know what it's like to be found and caught . . . and made totally helpless,” she emphasized with the touch of her horntip to the ring about Trixie's horn.

“Mmm Hmm!” she nodded, hearing Trixie's swift, startled inhale, feeling her suddenly tense in shock. “I'll tell you all about that next time. If . . . if you'd like?” she asked, her heart on her sleeve in the sound of her voice, and the stunned unicorn understood that Twilight meant she'd tell her about that the next time they were together . . . assuming Trixie wanted to see Twilight ever again, and also wanted to hear about what had happened.

“That's where this came from,” she explained, again tapping the dispersion ring. “It's, umm, well . . .,” and Trixie could hear the blush in her de facto captor's voice, “Well, it's mine. It's the one that was used on me.”

Behind the sleep mask dark violet-grey eyes opened wide.

“It's hard to feel really helpless when you can simply magic everything right off, isn't it.”

She almost squeaked at the soft, warm whisper right against her ear, then shivered as the words penetrated.

“You'll never feel this helpless ever again, you know,” came that whisper again, somehow her breath feeling even warmer. “Even if, one day, you find a special somepony you can trust, somepony you entrust a ring like this to them so they can remove that last little bit of control from you . . .,”

Trixie shivered even harder, Twilight's tone somehow like dancing little electric tingles along her skin.

“You will always have permitted them that control. But . . . not tonight.”

She swallowed, hard, at the tone of those last two words. Something about Twilight had changed over these last few minutes. She couldn't put her hoof on it, but she couldn't mistake how it was making her feel.

“You can't get free, can you.”

Trixie gave a tiny little headshake, and almost whimpered when Twilight actually purred.

“It feels good, doesn't it.”

Her face felt as if on fire. She didn't nod, not this time, but she blushed even worse as she realized she hadn't had to: the way her nostrils had abruptly flared, the way she'd sharply inhaled, had been answer enough.

“Squirm for me.”

Trixie softly moaned, then almost died on the spot realizing she had. This time she felt the heat of her blush work its way down her throat.

“Mmmm . . . yess . . . like that.”

Wha!? Trixie's nostrils flared even wider as she realized that, quite inadvertently —Honest! It was inadvertent!— she had, indeed, squirmed a little.

Her breath softly whuffled as Twilight gently nibbled behind an ear before murmuring in an oddly thick, velvety voice, “More. Squirm for me some more. I want to see just how helpless you really are.”

The very last thing Trixie wanted to do was squirm like some helpless, foalnapped mare in the clutches of her wicked, evil captor . . . what the heck am I thinking!?

It might have been the very last thing she wanted to do, but to her immense surprise she found herself doing just that. It wasn't anything extreme, just gentle fidgeting squirms, forelegs straining against the confining straitjacket, hindlegs wriggling in the elastic embrace of the bandages. But even those moderate efforts were having a disproportionate effect on Trixie. Her heart was pounding, her breathing faster, shallower. The tingles deep in her belly were quickly turning into not-so-gentle, gradually growing urgent throbbings.

“Twilight? Please let me go now?”

She sharply gasped as, instead of answering, Twilight gently nibble-nuzzled the base of her neck once again, then gasped even harder as she finally replied.

“No.”

Once more magic surrounded Trixie, this time shifting her until she was again stretched out. This time, however, instead of being fully prone on the floor Twilight positioned her so that her head was resting on her lap, her body resting between Twilight's stretched-out hind legs and propped against their sides as she leaned back against the chair behind her.

“Twilight? Plea—”

“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.” Twilight's voice was a dreamy murmur, so soothing. As was the gentle stroking of her hooves again along her mane. She sensed a touch of magic once more, then gently wriggled as the blanket was lowered over her, tucked in nice and snug around her.

There really wasn't anything she could do, Trixie admitted to herself. She most certainly couldn't get free on her own, and until Twilight decided to release her she was quite helpless to do anything about the situation. So she might as well just relax. It wasn't as if she was going to keep her restrained like this all night, after all. Surely that silly alicorn wasn't expecting her to sleep like this! How silly!

Twilight just sat there, feeling the edge of the chair seat uncomfortably digging into her back and wings. But not for all the arcane knowledge in the universe was she going to move, not as she heard Trixie's breathing gradually ease and slow, not as she watched her slowly drift off into sleep.

It was going to be a long, and decidedly uncomfortable —and quite possibly painful— night, but no one seeing the radiant smile on her face could have told that from her expression.