“No slouching! Hey, tie your shoes! You two there, save the lip-locking for after school! What is this, Red Rover?! SINGLE FILE!!”

Cadance marched through the halls of Crystal Preparatory School, exercising her full authority as the new hall monitor. Masses of students parted down the middle, many of the freshmen cowered, and even some teachers kept their distance as Cadance patrolled the halls, keeping a hold over any and all activity in the area with an iron fist.

Well . . . so to speak.

“Pick up the pace, you!” the voice from the vicinity of Cadance's crotch continued. “Don't make me come over there, you lazy creep!”

“Will you calm down?” Cadance hissed down at the zipper of her jeans. “You're not helping, you know.”

The zipper opened and closed as the voice spouted from it in a harsh tone, “And you're not doing your job, Princess! Pick up the pace, or I'll break your legs!”

“I told you to stop calling me that!” Cadance snapped back as her pants walked her down the hall on her patrol. “I am not a princess. I'm just a hall monitor!”

“Wow! Could have fooled me! Do hall monitors get to be as lazy as you? Keep your butt moving, and put some effort into keeping these urchins in line!!” Cadance's pants thrust forward, making her hips jut out in front of her and throwing off her balance temporarily. She took an awkward step (or, really, her pants took her step for her) and almost hurt her ankle, straightened up with one more step, and wobbled slightly as her gait became normal again. With all the wiggling and swaying her hips and butt were doing, many of the girls found it humorous, and many of the guys found it provocative.

“QUIT STARING!!” Cadance's pants screamed. “Get to class, right this minute! You put on that uniform, you're a Crystal Prep student, not some dip-wad rubbernecker! Keep those giggles to yourselves, ladies, or it'll be a trip to the principal to straighten you out! And you better avert your eyes, boys! This school doesn't take kindly to perverts!!”

At this, the remaining crowds dispersed immediately and nervously. No one liked dealing with Cadance's overly judgmental attire, even the teachers. It was a strike against her when she was in running for the position, what with jeans not being part of the faculty dress code, but once that zipper opened up and the pants had their say, not even the principal questioned it. And when Cadance got the job, her pants seized it, and they became the real authority in the halls of Crystal Prep.

As the students scurried on their way, one stayed behind, approaching tentatively and hugging a stack of books to her chest. “Hey, Cadance,” she said softly, “could I speak to you for a moment?”

Cadance turned to see Twilight Sparkle approach her from within the thinning crowds. “Hi, Twilight,” she greeted her happily, “you feeling okay? Everything all right?”

“Well . . . not really,” Twilight replied, “I wanted to talk to you about something. You know the Friendship Games are coming up, right?”

“Sure I do, I'm on the preparation crew. Wait, have you been chosen to compete?”

“That's not the point. See, Canterlot High is hosting them this year, and I've been doing some research, and there might be something strange going on—”

“What the hell are you wearing?!”

The zipper on Cadance's obnoxious trousers opened up and started screaming again. Twilight's eyes widened, and Cadance sighed.

“What?” Twilight replied, confused. “What do you mean? It's just my usual Crystal Prep uniform—”

“That sure isn't what I see!” the pants continued to rant. “Crystal Prep girls have their skirts one inch below the knee! 'A short skirt is a dirty flirt'! 'Above the knees, you're a naughty tease'!”

Twilight looked down at her uniform skirt; it was only a half-inch or so above her knees. “But that doesn't make sense,” she argued, “all the girls wear them like this—”

“Well, I guess all the girls here are skin-showing hussies! But you being a straight-A student here means you are held to higher standards! And higher standards means stricter discipline for infractions! Now you slide that skirt back down to your waist and show some decency, you little trollop, or I'll personally give you a good walloping!” At this, Twilight shrank back fearfully.

“Hey! You leave her alone!” Cadance yelled down at her crotch. “That's my sister-in-law you're talking to! Besides, her skirt's not that short!”

“Psh!” the jeans blurted out (how they could without lips, Cadance could only guess). “Like you have any room to talk about clothes! You don't think I can see the pink thong you have on under me?!”

Traces of students suddenly froze as they walked past. Twilight began blushing vividly, and Cadance's eyes and mouth dropped open.

“That's what I thought! So you keep your big pink mouth shut about slutty clothes! And you, streetwalker-in-training, you get to a restroom and lower that skirt! March, missy!” Cadance's leg suddenly lifted without Cadance's permission, and Twilight reacted, stumbling backwards and missing a kick. Twilight turned tail and ran, just in time to get nicked in the backside by Cadance's other foot.

“I'm so sorry, Twilight!” Cadance called out as Twilight raced away. “Please don't be upset with me!” After Twilight rounded a corner and disappeared from view, Cadance's mood soured quickly. She turned an enraged eye to her denim oppressor. “What was that?!” she demanded. “First you insult her, then you embarrass me, and now you're being violent! If you hurt someone, you could cost me my job!”

The pants scoffed. “I'm saving your job, you lazy twit! You need to snap these students into shape, and no amount of nepotism will save them! Now get moving, girlie! March!”

Cadance growled and made to walk down the hall, but her jeans took over; the girl's steps became much more pronounced, with a much longer stride and a stomp for every step. Once again, she shook and wobbled trying to keep her balance, almost falling several times. But it seemed Cadance's pants wouldn't even allow that.

“Double-time, slowpoke!” they screeched, hurrying her along by pulling her by the hips.

“Ow! Knock it off, I'm going! Ah! Now you're giving me a wedgie! OW!”

Lunch came at a mercifully early time for Cadance. In the time since her meeting with Twilight, her pants had continued to harass and boss around students, and the levels of harshness had only risen. Three students suffered injuries of one level of severity or another, two girls ran to the bathroom sobbing, and one boy threatened to sue Cadance for her clothes' cantankerous candor.

“You know,” Cadance mumbled irritably to her zipper as she entered the lunch line, “the only reason no one has fired me yet is because everyone here is afraid of you.”

“Good, screw 'em!” the zipper replied loudly and in front of everyone in the cafeteria. “You'll do your job better if they fear you! HEY, YOU! STOP HOLDING UP THE LINE!!” Cadance's leg flew, and another student panicked and moved along the line, dropping a cup of pudding in the process.

After steadying her stance, Cadance sighed again in frustration. “They fear you!” Cadance corrected as she took a tray, her voice descending to a growl. “And that's not right! I didn't want this job for the authority. I wanted it because I want to help students!”

Cadance's pants forced her leg to shove a girl down the line, and her fly let out another mirthless “Psh!” They then retorted, “Well, 'helping' them by setting a fire under their lazy, stupid butts is more than enough help! You should be thanking me!”

“I should remember where my pinking shears are!” Cadance threatened. She looked up, saw the lunch lady staring at her as if she were watching her sanity unravel before her eyes, and realized how loud she'd sounded.

“Uhh . . . sorry,” Cadance chuckled nervously, “um, could I get the Italian beef sandwich, please?”

Seconds before the lunch lady started moving, Cadance's fly opened up again: “Are you serious?! As if you need the extra calories!”

The zipper's screaming had been drawing attention toward Cadance since she'd walked into the cafeteria. Now, everyone's eyes were on the hall monitor and her griping pantaloons.

Cadance looked down and gasped. “Excuse me?!”

“You heard me, Chubby! The way you've been scarfing down food lately, I'm surprised I didn't split when you put me on this morning!

Now, the room seemed divided between snickering and dumbfounded faces. Even the lunch lady looked unsure of what to make of the bizarre scene.

Cadance's mouth fell open, and she tried to stutter in reply, “But . . . I'm . . . I'm not fat—”

“Oh, spare me, Princess! If I had my way, I would've come with the words 'WIDE LOAD' stitched across the butt!” The pants then walked Cadance out of the line, into the middle of the cafeteria, and bent her over low. “You can all see it as well as I can, can't you? Flab City! I mean, look at me! I'm suffocating here, holding all this chub in one place!”

“Stop it!” Cadance protested, her nose almost touching the tips of her shoes. “You're gonna make me fall!”

“Well, just hope you'll fall on your fat ass! Then you won't get hurt!” Cadance's jeans then walked her around in wide circles around the cafeteria, keeping her bent over and displaying her backside for the entire student body. Cadance's hips wiggled in a cumbersome manner the whole time, and she almost kicked herself in the face with every step. “And this is what'll happen to you little cretins if you don't start getting into shape around here!” her fly kept raving. “Do you want to end up like Princess Cellulite over here! Her Royal Highness, Lady Lard-O?! NO!! You don't! You don't want an ass so pudgy, you could save gym funds on a trampoline! You don't want a behind so mountainous, not even Daring Do would climb it! This school has standards, and if none of you can reach 'em, I'll whip you lot into shape myself!”

Cadance had stopped moving by this time, and much of the humor in the situation had stopped with it. One pale-looking blond student, however, had retained his sense of brashness, and had reached forward to give Cadance's allegedly large posterior a gentle tap.

“WHAT WAS THAT!?!”

The boy jumped three steps back, shock plastered on his aquiline face. It was clear he knew then that he'd messed up.

“WHAT DID I JUST SAY ABOUT STANDARDS?! YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF, YOU MISERABLE LITTLE LECH!! FOR THAT, I'LL TEACH YOU A LESSON YOU'LL NEVER FORGET, BOY!!”

The boy had turned tail and ran seconds after the fly had started bellowing. In the middle of the ear-shattering speech, the ranting pants had assumed the chase, racing after the daring kid and taking a screaming Cadance with them.

“COME BACK HERE, MISTER!! I'LL MAKE SURE THEY BRING BACK THE PADDLE FOR TROUBLEMAKERS LIKE YOU!!”

After a long, taxing day, Cadance finally lay in her soft, plushy bed at home. After the incident with the Blueblood boy, Cadance had had to pull herself out of the line of fire with the principal. In the end, another discussion with Cadance's lower apparel had gotten her out of trouble, and the boy had been sentenced to a week's suspension (all talks of corporal punishment had led to no action on that front).

Cadance heard the front door open from a few rooms away, and knew that her husband was home. As aggravating as her day had been on top of her worsening mood, Cadance knew she could always count on her loving husband to comfort her and help her ease all of her woes. As she heard the door close, she started to grow excited, and greatly looked forward to having her “woes eased”.

Footsteps went up in volume before the half-open bedroom door creaked open the rest of the way, and Cadance sat up in the bed. “Hey, honey!” Shining Armor greeted his wife before walking in, and she smiled at seeing him. “How was your day?”

Cadance sighed and flopped back down on the bed. “A real pain,” she grumbled. “This job has been a lot more difficult than I thought, and of course, my new jeans weren't any help at all.” The last four words came out in a growl as Cadance stared down at her crotch with contempt.

Shining Armor kicked off his shoes and went to sit on the bed beside his wife. “Hey, chin up,” he assured her, laying a hand against her cheek, “you'll get better at it. I know you will.”

Cadance sighed and sat up, sitting cross-legged on the bed. “You really think so?”

“I know so.” Armor then grinned and got up from the bed. “You, know, I've been thinking about you all day today.” He gave his wife a leering stare and began to take his shirt off. Cadance saw this, and began to feel an amorous fire build up inside her—among the many things she loved about her husband was his broad, barrel chest.

Cadance followed him off the bed and stepped up close to him, moving her soft fingers over his pale, yet toned skin. “Is that so?” she replied, batting her eyes coquettishly.

“Sure is.”

“Well, I'm about to make it better than you imagined.”

“No doubt in my mind.”

The flirty talk was making the fire inside Cadance burn hotter, and her hand fell down to her own waist as she began to unbutton her jeans. Armor's hands crept underneath her shirt and tickled her just above the hips, and she wiggled in place a bit as she slipped her pants down to her knees. He slipped his hands down her hips and gently, almost lovingly, hooked his fingers into the waist of her powder-pink thong, and . . .

“A-HEM!!”

The couple froze at the sound, then slowly looked down toward the demanding voice coming from Cadance's knees.

“I know you've got better things to do with your time than having dirty time with this guy! You're still writing applications for teaching jobs! You're set to give a lecture next week at Canterlot High for the Friendship Games! And don't you have a harassment form to fill out for that Blueblood brat?!”

Shining Armor looked up at Cadance, glanced between her and her descended attire several times, then asked in a befuddled voice, “. . . . Harassment form?”

Cadance gave an annoyed sigh. “It's nothing. I'll tell you later.”

Cadance's pants had other plans. “Nothing?! I'll have you know that feeling you up in the middle of the cafeteria is not 'nothing', missy!”

“Well, if you hadn't given him an easy target, he might've had more trouble!”

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute!” Armor interrupted the spat with the slacks. “You got felt up today?”

“None of your concern, buster!” the jeans yelled. “Now you, Princess, get me back into place and save your dirty thoughts for another time! Move it!!” Before Cadance could move, the back of the denim waistband suddenly reared up, folded over, and swatted Cadance on her semi-bare backside.

Cadance jumped, more out of shock than pain. “Ow! What the heck is your problem!” she snapped angrily.

“You being a lazy tart is my problem!” the jeans barked back, slapping Cadance's rear again. “Now, move your behind, missy! You have work to do!!”

Cadance yelped and jumped as the jeans smacked her butt several more times. “Ow! AH! All right, all right, relax! Ouch! I'm going, I'm going! OWW!” Cadance bent down and tugged her jeans back into place, and received three more swats to her backside in the meantime.

“All right, that's enough!” Armor yelled over the argument as Cadance buttoned up. “Look, I don't know who you think you are or what your problem is, but that's no way to treat my wife!”

“Honey, don't worry,” Cadance moaned as she rubbed her behind, “it's not your problem.”

“It most certainly is!” Armor stared daggers at Cadance's crotch (the only time such a thing would ever happen in their marriage) and had his say, “You've got some nerve, picking on her like this! She's had a hard enough day without you always yelling her ears off, dragging her all over creation, and insulting her like she means nothing to you! Look, I know some things are more important than others, but after the run-around you gave her today, Cadance wants to spend some special time with her husband, so whatever your issue is, bitchy britches, you'd better straighten it out before I find and iron and straighten it out for you!”

Cadance gasped at her husband's audacity. No one had ever stood up to Cadance's demanding pants in the entire time she'd owned them. In fact, seeing Armor so angry, so fierce, so commanding, actually made her a little hot . . .

“WHAT!?!” Cadance's fly bellowed back, unable to sit with this. “I'LL SHOW YOU!! TAKE THAT!!” And before either of them could react, Cadance's left leg flew, and had sunk a powerful kick directly into Armor's crotch. Armor's eyes widened, his entire body locked up, and he released a pathetic squeal of agony. The pants pulled Cadance's leg away from Armor's damaged goods, and the poor, broken man collapsed to the floor, pressing both hands against his little pony.

“NO!” Cadance cried. “Shiny! I'm so sorry, baby! I didn't mean it! I'm so sorry!!” Cadance felt tears well up in her eyes, her panic and guilt overwhelming her. But after a few moments, the tears faded, and were replaced with rage. Cadance's pants had been driving her crazy—at work, at home, with friends, while she ate, while she walked, it didn't matter when or where. They always had something to criticize and insult her about, be it her job, her eating habits, even how she spent her off time. And now, not even her husband was safe from their wrath.

“Hmph! That'll teach you to sass me, pretty boy!” the fly snarked in a superior tone. “Now, Princess, you'd better get your pudgy butt back to work before I thrash it again—”

“STOP CALLING ME THAT!!” Cadance finally roared, her rage taking her over completely. “I'm done! I've put up with you horrible excuse for clothing long enough! This is the last straw!!” She then stomped over to a bedside dresser, powering through the control the jeans had over her body, and opened a drawer. She rummaged through it for a while, then pulled out a book of matches.

“What do you think you're doing?” the pants demanded.

The owner looked down at her denim tyrant with a mad glint of vengeance in her eyes. “Does the phrase 'liar, liar, pants on fire' mean anything to you?” she asked as she ripped a match from the book.

“What?! I don't buy it! You don't expect me to believe you have the guts to do that! You seriously believe you could set me on fire while you're still wearing me?!”

Cadance's face twisted into a mad grin. “No. No, I don't.”

And she lit the match with a SNAP.