Well, I thought I knew what being turned on felt like, Twilight Sparkle acerbically thought. Was I ever wrong!

Tears silently rolled down her cheeks, as enormously powerful, and extremely diametrically opposed, emotions roiled within her. At the moment, she was sitting partially upright in the small bed down in her “special room”, propped up by multiple fluffy pillows. Curled up alongside her was Trixie Lulamoon, her head resting atop Twilight’s chest, a dreamy little smile playing on her lips.

Oh, yes; yes, the distraught alicorn had thought she’d understood the feelings of desire, of want and longing, of attraction and concupiscence. She’d read all those books, after all; she’d mediated on their meanings, their descriptions and explanations. And, as she’d grown older, as she’d matured from filly to young mare, from young mare to grown mare, she’d felt certain feelings grow stronger as she’d aged. She’d overheard certain of her friends and acquaintances speak of their longings for another pony, of their intense yearning for a specific somepony —sometimes in shy, hushed whispers, while, other times, in quite blunt, stark terms that brought a fierce heat to Twilight’s cheeks.

Yes, she’d thought she’d understood. But she’d always been so fully immersed in her studies, in her researches. Those times . . . the outside world just retreated, leaving Twilight floating in her own, private little world. Hours and hours could pass, and if Spike hadn’t regularly shaken her back to the here-and-now, she might very well have passed out from inanition. Her earlier researches into sexuality —in all its complexity and variety— had left her with the impression that she understood, and could even identify with, such emotions as drive, desire, and longing. After all, didn’t she experience something similar with her studies?

And she knew that her, umm, “biology” worked, for she didn’t always restrain herself simply for stress relief. So she fully understood what it was like to be turned on; to “get wet”. That was such a pleasant, glowy state!

Seeing Trixie atop the sawpony . . . Twilight then positioning her muzzle scant inches from . . . “there” . . . Twilight discovered that she’d grossly underestimated what “getting wet” actually meant . . . and, along with that, realized that her concept of “being turned on” bore absolutely no relationship to reality.

She gazed down through tear-blurred eyes at the cerulean unicorn snuggled against her side. Even as she watched, Trixie inhaled just a little bit deeper as she wriggled closer, as she slipped a foreleg up to Twilight’s shoulder and gently curved a hoof behind her neck, and then, once snuggled closer, softly exhaled as her lips curved into an even dreamier smile.

Discovering that Trixie also enjoyed self-bondage had added a new dimension to those feelings. But they were just a little bit stronger, just the smallest bit more powerful, especially when she let her daydreams start exploring different horizons.

It had been a long time ago when she’d faced the final test of her entrance exam for Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, but Twilight could clearly recall that moment when Magick bloomed inside her like a supernova. She’d been far too inexperienced with arcana to actually control, let alone utilize, that immense deluge of raw power; instead, she was subsumed by that, was incorporated into that gestalt. But she did remember that, in all its glory and majesty.

Thirteen days ago, she’d had a foreshadowing of a similar effect.

Twilight had thought she’d understood that, too —had understood the pounding of her heart, the catching breaths, the flushed skin, the tightness in her belly— when she’d faced the epiphany that had blazed the moment she’d truly realized how utterly helpless Trixie had been. And when Trixie had coyly murmured, as the situation currently obtains, what Twilight plans on doing 'afterwards' is, ah entirely in her own hooves, as Trixie is in no position to gainsay her . . .

Even just remembering that had Twilight fidget, as her belly tightened, as her pulse throbbed.

Trixie trusted me! And I betrayed her!

How do you figure that?

I lied to her. And to myself.

Really?

Yes! I . . . I kept telling myself it was just an intriguing roleplay. Like those I read about years ago.

And . . . it wasn’t?

No!! It wasn’t!

Then what was it?

I . . . I don’t know.

Why are you scared?

Be . . . because I’m afraid. Afraid of what I’ve become. Of what burns inside me now. Afraid I’ve betrayed my friend.

So . . . how did you betray your friend?

She trusted me. Trusted me to keep her safe. And I tricked her into something that I badly wanted. I didn’t give her a choice. I didn’t tell her what I’d planned, or what I’d intended and wanted. All that kept pulsing inside of me was wanting to feel like I did before; like I did when Trixie had said, that, because she was helpless, whatever happened to, or with, her was entirely my choice. And I was very, very selfish in my choice. I took advantage of my friend.

She doesn’t look unhappy. Does she?

Of course she doesn’t! She’s afterglowing like crazy.

Isn’t that a good thing?

It would be if she’d given me permission to do . . . “that”

“That” being, I presume, turning her on to the point she frantically humped your hoof like the proverbial doorknob?

Stop that! This is serious!

You know, if she was truly unhappy, or fearful, she could always have told you to stop.

Oh, please! And just how was she able to do that? She was helplessly strapped down, and gagged to boot.

Oh? And do you think you could have missed her distress, or attempts to signal you?

. . .

Well?

I’m afraid . . . afraid that, even if I had seen something like that . . . that I still wouldn’t have stopped.

Even as she mentally replayed the scene they’d just enacted a short while ago, Twilight felt the surge of emotions, of feelings, that she’d so innocently believed she’d always understood.

Besides . . . even if she had felt uncomfortable, or squeamish . . . it’s a well-known fact that, the more aroused and turned on a pony becomes, the less and less inhibited they become. By the time we reached that point, Trixie would likely have agreed to anything. I know my inhibitions had gone south by then! So . . . what happens . . . now . . . when she remembers how wicked I was with her, after she’s had time to calm down and recover?

But . . . that’s not really what is bothering you . . . is it?

No.

Well?

. . . I . . . I liked it.

“It”?

I liked being in control. I liked how I felt imagining owning her as my own. I burned inside, knowing that, at that moment, I did own her . . . and I want to feel that again . . . and again . . . and again.

Was that all?

. . . No . . . I liked the power I had over her. I reveled in that! I controlled her freedom, her senses. I even controlled her arousal: how much, how little, how long. And, at the end, I even controlled whether she could, erm, ah . . .

Well, you don’t do things by halves, do you?

Eh?

Leaping from a shy, virginal mare who hasn’t even kissed anypony —well, other than pecks on the cheek, that is— straight into a horny little——

Stop!

That’s part of what you’re afraid of, isn’t it? It’s new; it’s unknown . . . and it’s very, very powerful. Powerful enough to sweep you off your hooves and carry you off.

Yeah. Yeah. That’s it. And I’m terrified of what might happen when I’m that swept up.

I’m afraid control over this is something only experience, and practice, will provide.

Objectively, Twilight could match up those dry, neatly-tidy explanations of years ago with the very new subjective feelings she was experiencing. Subjectively, however . . .

I badly need somepony to talk to about this! I . . . I don’t understand; not what I’m feeling, or what that means, or anything!

Well, she certainly couldn’t talk to Twilight Velvet about this! Even the thought of that had her cringe and furiously blush. And, even when their relationship hadn’t been strained as it currently was, she couldn’t see having approached Princess Celestia, either.

The fact was, Twilight couldn’t see having this talk with any of her friends.

Trixie sleepily murmured, wriggling even closer to Twilight. And suddenly, she knew the only pony she could talk to about all this.

Twilight lightly dozed for a bit, relaxing enough, now that she’d made a decision, to fully consider the warm heaviness partially draped over her. Inner turmoil temporarily calmed, she gazed at Trixie as she slept. This . . . this feels nice, she realized. It felt nice in a way that no other cuddles had made her feel.

Trixie had roused several times, never actually waking, just twilighting (no pun intended) before wriggling closer and drifting off again. Twilight understood the concept of “afterglow”, but somehow she didn’t think that lasted quite this long, which meant that . . .

More emotions slowly unfurled, as if new buds exposed to the sun: a fierce protectiveness intertwined with tender affection. For the second time in Twilight’s memory, she was seeing a side of Trixie that few, if any, ponies ever saw: a sweet vulnerability, her guard completely down. That understanding brought a lump to the teary-eyed alicorn’s throat . . . and a gentle glowy heat to her core.

Tenderly nibbling the base of an ear Twilight indulgently murmured, “Wake up sleepyhead. Rise and shine.”

Trixie lightly stirred, then burrowed even closer. “Do I hafta?” she mumbled, her words partially muffled seeing as her muzzle was tucked under Twilight’s chin.

“Well, you’ve been asleep for about an hour,” Twilight informed. She hesitantly reached out a hoof, her recent “internal debate” still fresh in her mind, then tremulously began stroking Trixie’s mane and neck.

“Are you Twilight-twitching again?” came a slightly grumpy murmur.

“It’s nothing you did,” she instantly reassured. “But, if you don’t mind . . . I’d like to talk while we wash up.”

A muzzy Trixie wasn’t quite sure why the immediate need to wash up was important . . . at least, not until she clambered out of bed and then groggily stretched . . . and felt the residual stickiness between her hind legs, at which point she both turned as red as a sunset . . . and felt a gentle warmth rekindle deep inside her.

When Twilight went to start running the tub Trixie —with the utmost respect and deference— insisted she just relax, and let Trixie take care of things. Feeling a bit, well, selfish, nevertheless Twilight did accede, and simply silently watched as her friend filled the tub and readied the supplies.

Sinking into the water, steam lightly wreathing the surface, Twilight gestured for Trixie to enter as well. The two of them then leaned back, getting comfy and, in Trixie’s case, sinking down until her chin just touched the surface. Several minutes then passed in companionable silence, first while Twilight simply luxuriated in the relaxing heat, and then as she worked up the courage to begin speaking. Before she could begin, however . . .

“Twilight?”

“Yes Trixie?”

“Trixie has a suspicion about what you want to talk to Trixie about. So Trixie must warn you,” and she sounded completely sober and serious, “that if you even try and apologize, that will hurt Trixie very badly.”

Now Twilight sank down into the tub, and, for a moment, was fighting the desire to fully submerge herself. Closing her eyes, she visibly struggled for composure, quivering enough to create ripples. Taking a very deep breath, she committed herself. “I wasn’t playing a role there at the end.”

There was a splash as Trixie jerked, her eyes flying wide open. “Ah . . . no?” she managed to squeak out.

“No,” Twilight confirmed. “I’m not sure if you remember —a lot had happened, and was happening, at the time— but you said something that morning.” Trixie’s heart did a powerful double-thump, not at all mistaking the emphasis, and therefore, not at all misunderstanding what morning Twilight was referencing.

Her heart thudded again, as Twilight peered at her through half-slitted lids . . . and it looked like a banked furnace behind them.

“You’d said to me that you’d like to point out that, as the situation currently obtained, what I’d planned on doing 'afterwards' was entirely in my own hooves, as you were in no position to gainsay me.”

Trixie’s face started flaming; she started sinking deeper, even as her belly started tightening again. But, much to her astonishment, a few moments later an odd sort of serenity descended on her, settling over her like a mantle. “Trixie remembers,” she softly said, her voice firm and steady.

“Something happened to me then,” Twilight admitted, her voice just as low, but with an odd timbre to it. “Something that I’d read about, but never even considered I’d encounter, let alone experience.”

“And what was that?” came the gentle query.

“I wanted to enjoy the power I had over you, as my helpless captive.”

Trixie’s tummy felt jittery, as light little jolts of tingly warmth and electricity raced through her.

“Over the last two weeks, I haven’t stopped thinking about that. It’s sort of dominated my dreams and imagination. I wanted to feel that again. I wanted to be in that position again. So much so, that . . .”

Trailing off for a moment before taking a slow, deep breath, then gusting it out. “For the last couple of months I’ve sort of, well, sort of allowed my imagination to run rampant. Picturing all sorts of scenarios that, hopefully, we could try out and play together. Assuming, that is, that, ummm, my “introduction” and overtures were accepted. You might have noticed by now that spontaneity is not my strong suit,” she astringently admitted, “as well as noticed that I can, and frequently do, get mono-focused to the point of obsession. So, assuming things between us progressed in the direction I’d hoped for, I wanted to be ready with a broad range of scenarios for both of us to explore and try out. So, today when I asked you to let me surprise you, the intention was to try out the six scenarios I’d been eager to explore, and the ones I thought you’d like best.”

Six scenarios? Trixie thought. I wonder what happened? Then her eyes rounded as Twilight continued.

“I kept telling myself that it was all innocent fun; that there were no ulterior motives. And, even three weeks ago, that would have been the absolute truth.”

When Twilight trailed off into silence for more than a few seconds, Trixie softly prompted, “But?”

“But . . . I lied to myself, Trixie. Yes, I was curious —excited, too, at the prospect— to see what it was like, for each of us, to experiment with those scenarios. To play them out. And I really was honestly curious to see which ones —if any— excited you. But . . .,” another deep breath, “but while all that was true, it was also just thinly-masked justification for what I really wanted.”

Behind those partially-lidded eyes no longer glowed a banked furnace . . . but now blazed an intense fire . . . and that fire was focused fully upon Trixie. “And . . . and what was that?” the flustered unicorn squeaked out.

Her ears flickered back and forth, as a rushing roar filled her hearing, as she became lightheaded and dizzy, as Twilight simply replied, “I wanted to have you fully in my power, and helplessly under my control again.”