“....As you can see, class, the thick top layers of soft, sheddable tissue called ‘mucosa’ and the even thicker, latticed layers of powerful muscle wrapping around it make the inside of one’s marehood a particularly tough organ. It has to be. After all, it has to be able to handle foalbirth. There’s plenty of padding on the outside too, with many layers of skin and fatty tissue.” Nurse Red Heart tapped her pointer rod on the instructional slide depicting a spread-open marehood.

As she carefully made notes in her little society notebook, Twilight couldn’t help but wonder how many of the pictures were made in-house, considering she could see glimpses of collars and hoof cuffs on some of the photo models shown. Her mind inevitably wandered to the mares who had been mounted before the camera, wondering just what went through their minds as their Masters showed them off to the world...

Twilight gave a muffled cry into her ballgag as her Master whipped her up onto the special display podium in front of the class. He seemed indifferent to the whimpers of his teaching specimen, even as he firmly gripped her hind legs and spread them open, revealing her marehood glistening between the strings of arousal stretching between her folds.

‘I-it’s f-for s-science, e-education…’ Twilight tried to bite back the shame of being shown off to the sea of curious mares and stallions who saw her as nothing more than a lab rat in a science demonstration. She failed to stifle a moan as her Master slipped the cold prongs of the speculum-like device into her pussy. He didn’t even need to lubricate them, Twilight’s gleaming cunny practically overflowed with juice around the prongs. She arched her back, her thighs trembling as her Master stretched her tight little slit impossibly wide, enough for the world to see everything from her urethra to the tight pucker of her cervix.

All the while her Master’s assistant, Rarity, set about securing her spread hooves to the podium’s shackles. Twilight – no, the ‘lab specimen’ could only squirm helplessly against her shackles as Rarity turned to present a set of evil-looking steel tools on a silver tray to her Master. The lab specimen’s eyes widened, her mind racing at the thought of just what the tools could be for…

Twilight shook the daydream out of her mind. She looked down at her notes on mare health, only to find an account describing ‘lab specimen breeding demonstration’ in lurid detail. ‘Need to get more sleep,’ she muttered to herself. She had been studying the society guides and some other extra ‘reference material’ late into the night, all for the sake of her all-important B.S.S.F. research. Worse still, with Spike away for the summer, there was nopony to keep her all-nighters in check. She sheepishly started a new page and re-focused her attentions on Red Heart, though not without bookmarking the fantasy for ‘intensive study reference material’.

“While it may look like a beautiful, delicate little flower, a marehood is in fact as robust as a pair of heavy duty oven mittens,” Red Heart went on, “By the by, cock-mittens is what male dragons with their double hemicocks call a pair of slaves trained to be their cocksleeves, one dedicated to each fiery member. And just to prove my point about durability…” The class took a sharp intake of breath at the next slide –– A picture of a pair of marehoods pressed into one another, each spreading open around a dragon’s barbed cocks. “Now if somepony tells you orientation was boring, you know they skipped Mare Health 101 and are probably on the run from Nurse Red Heart.” She grinned at the sea of wide-eyed stares and a few sporadic saliva drips. “By the way, the changeling transformation chambers will be doing a dragon theme weekend in three weeks’ time.” She winked.

“Now I am required to also tell you all a little bit about the health functions on your PipSub.” Redheart sighed at the next slide, one that was visibly out of place in style with its futuristic edges and the Clocktower Research Laboratories logo in a corner. It was as if somepony had jammed their own slide into her presentation which, judging from Redheart’s eye-rolling, was probably the case. “Your PipSubs are equipped with something the eggheads call spywa—ahem, the Health Awareness Recognition Matrix, H.A.R.M. Like most PipSub functions, you can ask your kindlesprite for it or turn it on yourself by saying or thinking ‘HARM ON’.”

Whispers filled the room as the students twiddled with their PipSubs. Bell Chime was two steps ahead, smiling smugly up at Twilight as she presented the see-through bluish-green screen floating in the air above her badge. “Oh, thank you, Bell Chime.” Twilight studied the screen, wondering how long it had taken Bell Chime to draw the cartoonish outline of Twilight herself, complete with outspread wings. What looked like green indicator bars pointed to various parts of her body. One bar to the side diligently, if rather unsettlingly, kept track of her heart rhythm and rate. Another beneath it showed a live graphical output of what Twilight recognized to be the same psychogram trace she had used to test the Pinkie Sense so many years ago. It thankfully indicated her psyche to be in the green, illustrated by the little Twilight smiley beside it. Below it was another bar that tracked her hydration, judging by the impression of a water drop next to it.

“HARM is a piece of Clocktech™ that is meant to keep an eye on your physical and mental wellbeing and warn you of any serious life-and-limb-threatening injury.” Redheart went on. “It also sends the warning to your dom’s PipSub and their mask’s so-called Eagle Vision if they’re wearing it. I stress to you that it only detects serious potentially-irreversible injury to your body and mind as it happens. It cannot predict it. This is important to realize as some ponies unwisely treat it like it’s an all-seeing crystal ball. They also make the mistake of thinking a piece of metal can tell you if you’re comfortable and happy. It does not. Only you can decide when you’ve had enough and safeword out.”

“Dominants have their own HARM display showing them the wellbeing of all their subs.” Redheart explained. “You can and should customize how much of your HARM you allow different doms to see. By default, they cannot see anything other than the serious injury alerts. You can, for example, choose to give them access to your Complete Aftercare Recovery Evaluation, CARE, which allows them to find, sooth and dress all your bruises and sore spots during aftercare. Some doms like it, some just use it as a final check thing, some feel like it’s cheating. If you want you can let them see all kinds of other pointless statistics like how many steps you’ve taken today and your calorie intake and…” Redheart trailed off into silence, seemingly giving up the will to speak, letting one last eyeroll complete her sentence for her. “You know what, I think I’ve said enough about that thing.” She gave a brief pause as she eyed her own PipSub sitting in its PipPoint on the projector. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s a useful tool, but it is not a foal-proof safety net and is absolutely not a substitute for good judgement and common sense.”

“So, if you take nothing else other than dragon cocks from this talk, remember your body’s traffic light.” She pulled up an earlier slide with a photograph of a slave pegasus’ front and back, various parts of her fur painted green, yellow and red. The green areas over the mare’s back, tushies teats, chest, marehood and thighs bore bright red welts from what was no doubt a thorough whipping. The yellow areas including the belly, neck, extremities of limbs and wings bore laundry pins and candle wax, while the red areas such as the eyes and head were immaculate. “To recap, rough play involving green areas is safe, yellow areas need caution and only allows specific kinds of play, red areas are not for play. Red is bad, yellow go slow, green is go go go. Remember your ‘little bads’ and ‘big bads’, remember to ‘staircase’ for ‘little bads’, ‘clockface’ or ‘towertop’ for ‘big bads’. And by all the flaming firecocks jamming the gates of Tartarus, unless you’ve got buns planned with a lucky colt, estrus means contraception potions!”

Red Heart tapped the projector to bring up one last slide – a collage of all the fetish photographs she had used for demonstration purposes in her lecture. “Now, if you’re interested in contributing to education, I can always do with volunteers for photoshoots and live demonstration classes down in the dungeons. Just don’t jump up all at once.” She chuckled at the sudden wave of squirming that ran through the audience. “I run quite a lot of these health workshops. I also deliver one aimed at doms. You’ll be interested to know that one of the most frequent questions I get from doms is ‘how do I avoid harming my sub?’ To which I would always reply, ‘Listen to my lecture, and listen listen listen to your sub’s body’. Now feel free to ask me questions while I sign your attendance records.” She tapped the PipSub sitting the projector’s Pippoint.

A chorus of pings ran through the room as everypony’s (and the occasional gryphon, changeling, diamond dog, even one dragon’s) PipSubs acknowledged the virtual signature from Redheart’s own PipSub. The characteristic after-class shuffle filled the room, a little more chaotic than usual as at least a third of the class rushed Red Heart for more private questions. The stage at the bottom of the spacious amphitheatre-style hall soon became an impromptu lecture hall in its own right. It felt so much like a school classroom, so normal, that Twilight almost couldn’t believe she had just sat through an hour-long lecture on kinky sexual health.

“Dragon roleplay….” Twilight blushed softly as she carefully noted it down on her list of Doc and Rarity’s potential kinks as item number 324. The list was certainly growing lengthier by the day. However, with the help of an eight hundred and two factor personality-based extrapolation model she had perfected, she was certain she could narrow it down to an accurate list of all the kinks Doc and Rarity would want their ideal B.S.S.F. to be an expert in. Like any exam, as long as she knew what subject it was on, the rest was a simple matter of studying all the books she had on the matter. The approach had never failed her before, there was no way it was going to fail her now.

“Brutal Victory, please note ‘dragon transformation’ on my list under ‘extreme penetration’ and append a definition from the society guide as a hoofnote.” Twilight couldn’t help but overhear the mare next to her say.

“Yes, Fey Mana,” the mare’s PipSub replied. Twilight did a double take as she noticed its kindlesprite not only talk but also climb out of its housing, grasp a pencil and take notes for its owner. Considering how much of a fuss everypony had been making of her new edition PipSub, she didn’t expect to see anypony else with one.

She certainly didn’t know they could take notes. But she at the very least knew that no self-respecting scholar would copy-out book entries into hoofnotes, not when they can properly cross-reference the text using the correct Vanhoover format. It was unacademic, unthinkable, unforgivab–

Twilight took a slow, deep breath. No, that’s silly, she can’t possibly expect all ponies to know the Vanhoover consensus on standards for academic literature, much less somepony who – Now that Twilight took a better look at her – was probably not Equestrian at all. Or at least she seemed that way judging by her slightly leaner physique, how fine her fur was compared to that of fluffier Equestrians and the decorative bridle and colourful ethnic saddle she wore. While her attire seemed Saddle Arabian in origin, Twilight couldn’t help but notice that she had a cutie mark — a gust of wind shaped into a series of musical notes. She knew for a fact that Saddle Arabians don’t have cutie marks and instead possess a ‘soul song’. Could this mare possibly be half-Equestrian and half-Saddle-Arabian?

“Thank you, Brutal Victory.” The mare said in her quiet, distant voice, all the while smiling softly at her little pink kindlesprite.

“I can do that too, Twilight!” Twilight suddenly realized she had been staring before quickly tearing her gaze from the mare to look down at her own kindlesprite. Bell Chime was poking her head out from her PipSub, waving a little hoof to attract her attention. She might have only imagined it, but she could have sworn Bell Chime gave the other kindlesprite a sour, almost jealous look.

“Oh, um, if you want to, Bell Chime. Please reference ‘dragon roleplay’ on my list and prepare a bibliography reading list from the Society guide,” Twilight said. “Vanhoover format, please.” She quickly added in a low voice. “Thank you, Bell Chime.”

“Right away, Twilight!” Bell Chime seemed over the rainbow at her chance to show up her rival kindlesprite. The little familiar leaned into her bag and fished out her own pencil before quickly getting to work.

“Hmmm.” The Saddle Arabian mare cradled her chin in a hoof, seemingly deep in thought. “It must be the barbs.” The mare finally said as if concluding an age-old debate.

Twilight blinked. She took a quick look around. Finding the other seats around them had emptied, she suddenly felt awkwardly conscious of the possibility that the strange mare may be talking to her. “Um, barbs?” She did her valiant best to save the mare from talking to herself.

“Barbs.” The mare nodded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Twilight felt like she had skipped something critical in the conversation, that ‘something’ being ‘all of it’. It was like having the ending to a book spoiled without even being allowed the knowledge of what exactly was being spoiled. “Why….barbs?” Twilight asked, slowly.

The mare tilted her head at Twilight like a rabbit deciding how best to explain the importance of breeding. “Draconic hemipeni are lined with soft fleshy barbs that stand erect on pleasurable stimulation. They serve to better hold the hemipenis inside the vaginal orifice, increase friction and sexual stimulation and thereby improve chances of successful draconic procreation.” She explained.

Now the spoiler was being explained, no, dissected for her. Twilight wasn’t sure how best to respond. While she didn’t relish admitting ignorance, she wasn’t sure she wanted to claim knowledge of the intricacies of draconic hemipeni. “...Uh, what I mean is, why are we even talking about dragon penises?” She opted for trying to bridge the gap in their conversation, even if she felt it was about as achievable as bringing the sun and moon together.

“Why? Do you find no sexual arousal at the thought of having your vagina and anus impaled upon two thick, barbed draconic hemipenises?” The mare asked simply, tilting her head in the other direction.

Twilight blushed as her gathering wetness told her otherwise. “Um, well, I might?” She admitted sheepishly. She quickly shook herself as she realized she was getting swept up in the strange mare’s pace. “Still, what did you mean by ‘it’s the barbs’?” She tried to bring the moon and sun together.

What looked like a sockpuppet shaped uncannily like the Saddle Arabian mare popped up behind the mare’s ears. “Because I’m Fey Mana and I strike up adorkably awkward conversations to try and make friends.” The sockpuppet said in squeaky monotone.

“Am not.” The mare’s ears drooped as she batted away the sockpuppet. Her soft blush, however, said otherwise. “Firefly Glow, please, no sockpuppets.”

“Aw, Fey Mana’s no fun.” The sockpuppet disappeared in a flash of emerald flames, leaving what was unmistakable a changeling hoof. “Princess Twilight Sparkle? Can cute widdle Fey Mana please be your friend?” The splitting image of Fey Mana herself peered out from behind the mare, the only distinguishing feature being the doppleganger’s wickedly mischievous grin as well as the changeling Firehive badge in her mane.

Twilight felt a twinge of apprehension at the obvious changeling. After all, her last encounter with them ended in her student having to save her from an eternal changeling goo-bath. However, Rosemary had mentioned that the Society had changeling allies. If that were true then the opportunity to study a changeling firsthoof was staring her right in the face.

“Psst. Fey, it’s not working.” The faux-Fey stage-whispered to the genuine article. “Do you think we need to sing a friendship song or something?”

“No. I do not care to sing about bonding over draconic barb impalement.” Fey shook her head.

“I think we can agree there.” Twilight failed to stifle a giggle.

“I would prefer bonding over a rigorous randomized-controlled draconic barb impalement experiment.” Fey clarified, in the air of one suggesting pizza for dinner.

“What is that?” Faux-Fey blinked. “And why is such unnecessary info allowed to be both nerdy and oh-so-hot at the same time?”

Twilight tried to keep her thigh-rubbing as subtle as possible. “Well, uh, I suppose I wouldn’t disagree to discussing the null hypotheses over tea?”

“That actually worked?” Faux-Fey’s eyes twitched. “I think I’m going to need something stronger than tea.”

“It’s alright, Firefly. Not everypony can be as good as me at making friends, but I’m willing to teach you.” Fey smiled a smug little smile. “Brutal Victory, please add Princess Twilight Sparkle to my list of friends.”

“Yes, Fey Mana. Princess Twilight Sparkle added under ‘Ponies I really, truly want to make friends with’.” Brutal Victory said with brutal honesty. Fey Mana looked mortified, seemingly wishing she had gone with singing instead.

Twilight giggled, feeling guiltily thankful she wasn’t the only pony with kindlesprite problems. “Bell Chime, please add Fey Mana to my friend list.”

“Yes, Twilight.” Bell Chime muttered, giving Brutal Victory a stink eye. Her fellow kindlesprite replied with a silent raspberry. “Adding Princess Fey Mana, Ninth Princess of Saddle Arabia, under ‘Fellow draconic hemicock experiment enthusiasts’.”

It was Twilight’s turn to sit in petrified silence as the changeling enjoyed a giggle at her expense. “I guess there’s more than one way to befriend the Princess of Friendship.” She dropped her disguise in a blaze of changeling fire, revealing a small changeling mare with dark crimson eyes and a shimmering red mane that glowed like wildfire against the night sky of her chitin. “I’m Firefly Glow, 1st Princess of Nowhere Particular and, I guess, fellow cock nerd now. We’re big fans of your student, especially after she kicked Queen Jerky Mcjerkyface in the ovipositor. Oh, that was glorious.”

“I’m sure she’d be interested to hear.” Twilight couldn’t help but feel a touch of pride at her student being a hero to changelingkind. “But didn’t all the changelings ‘ascend’ into their new forms after that?” She asked, noticing that the changeling was noticeably lacking in the sparkling antler department.

“Oh, pfft,” Firefly giggled into a forehoof. “Thorax sure is sexying it up, calling it ‘ascension’ and everything. Sure, discovering a new food group is cool and all. But frankly, I don’t think I can walk outside looking like I fell six flights down a hazard paint factory.”

“Pretty bug moose.” Fey murmured, earning herself a sharp changeling nudge in the ribs. “Ow. Rude bug moose.”

“Oh.” Twilight tilted her head to one side, curious. “I thought all the changelings joined Thorax?”

“Pfft, ‘all’.” Firefly scoffed derisively. “Princess Twilight, you know those pony food fads?” She raised an eyebrow. Twilight suddenly experienced the frosty apprehension of one realizing they had stepped on a landmine. “Remember that one time kiwis were the ‘in’ thing? When all ponies went around worshipping them for how hipster it made them feel or how smooth their shit was? Y’know what it’s like just wanting your sinful muffin when Sunday market warriors go around trying to convert you to the good green church of kiwi? Imagine something like that but with ten times the idiocy. Sure, some lings have bought into the whole ‘feeding on friendship’ hype and left their hives to join in Thorax’s ascension cult. All of Equestria and even the Sol Invictus are getting onboard the SS. Redemption. But all some lings really want is a good ol’ muffin, y’know. Society changelings like me have happily fed on devotion since forever, and some of us don’t want anything else, let alone ‘redeem ourselves’ by rolling in sparkle glue. And I would appreciate it if Thorax and all the ‘good guy changelings’ stopped shoving ‘ascension’ down my throat when I very much prefer cock, thank you very much. Love, bad girl changeling.”

“I understand, Firefly.” Fey nodded in sympathy. “I like cocks more than kiwis too.”

‘Changeling ascension’ had struck Twilight as the perfect solution to ‘better’ all changelings. It hadn’t even occurred to her that it might be unfair for ponykind to decide it was the new societal standard for all changelingkind to aspire to. She was thankfully saved from having to awkwardly climb out of the faux-pas hole by Bell Chime. “Society changeling lore now updated.” The little kindlesprite reported.

“Oh, isn’t she the most adorable little thing!” Firefly gave the little familiar a squee-nuzzle.

“This is Bell Chime,” Twilight said, glad for the timely save. “And, uh, I didn’t even introduce myself. Sorry, I guess you already know me, but I’m….”

“...Late for the next class.” An oily smooth voice interrupted. “And so are you two.”

“Oh m’gosh, I almost forgot.” Firefly Glow gasped. “It was nice meeting you, Princess. I’ll drag Fey to catch up with you another day!”

“Um, yes, friend.” Fey agreed awkwardly as she was maneuvered away by the changeling.

Twilight blinked. She looked down at her PipSub. Bell Chime shrugged back up at her. “You’re scheduled for a dungeon excursion next and it doesn’t start for another ten minutes, Twilight.”

“I’m not late.” Twilight concluded, looking up at the rude interrupting pony. “Why….” What she was about to say faded away in her throat under the piercing sapphire gaze of the tall stallion before her. There was no mistaking the gleaming golden mane or that compass rose cutie mark, not after how he had hurt her beloved herd sister so many years ago. “Prince...Blueblood?” Her confusion quickly turned into a frown.

“Yes. And you, my dear, are gullible.” The stallion said with a theatrical sigh. “Do you not know who those two were? Princess Fey Mana, Clocktower Arabia Eden’s rising star entrusted as protege to Jet Set and Upper Crust? Firefly Glow, rogue princess of Hive Glow, kindler novice to Reverend Passionate? Surely I do not need to insult your intelligence by elucidating their obvious ambitions with regards to you? Need I draw you a diagram? I’m sure you have some crayons upon your pony?”

“And Prince Blueblood, heir to one of Equestria’s most prominent noble families?” Twilight replied, a little more tersely than she intended. “Should I bother asking why you’re in a class aimed at submissive mares?”

“Touché.” Blueblood’s mug curled into a smirk. “Normally I would say it is no business of yours, but If you must know, Clocktower Equestria East has a changeling transformation chamber service for colts like me. I assure you, it was mere coincidence we met today, and, I daresay, a fortunate one for you.”

“Fortunate?” Twilight scowled.

“Well, to begin with, I’m in the same excursion group as you,” he pointed out as he started for the door. “Do you even know where our group is meeting?” He peered over his withers.

“Bell Chime, navigate.” Twilight growled as she stormed past him.

“Yes, Twilight. Navigating to meeting point.” Bell Chime zoomed out of her housing and floated ahead of Twilight, seemingly more keen to get out of the impending blast radius.

“Ouch, right in the pride.” Blueblood chuckled, mock-wincing as he trailed behind Twilight. “Upon my honour, I am genuinely looking out for your wellbeing, Princess Twilight. After all, it gladdens my heart that Ms. Rarity has managed to move on after us.”

Twilight grit her teeth, refusing to believe her ears. “You?” She rounded on the stallion. “If for one moment you think Rarity ever gave even a thought for that night at the gala, you…..”

“The gala?” Blueblood blinked, the look of earnest surprise on his face stopping Twilight short. “What do you...oh, that gala? You mean to say Mistr-....I mean, Ms. Rarity never told….I see. Nevermind, I have already said too much.” He smiled bitterly as he shook his head. “I will not bother you further then, Princess Twilight. I sincerely wish you and your herd all the best in the future.”

Twilight frowned at Blueblood’s retreating form. While she trusted him as much as she trusted a cockatrice with a pair of binoculars, she couldn’t help but wonder what he meant. ‘Did he almost call Rarity ‘Mistress’ there? Does that mean the pony she met at the gala, the one who invited her to the Society, could that have been…?’ She shook her head, deciding not to jump to any conclusions that she could easily hear firsthoof from Rarity when she was ready to tell her. Rarity had shared enough with her, she deserved that much.

The lushly carpeted corridors outside were empty other than the occasional late straggler hurrying to class. Twilight took a more relaxed pace, taking the time to peer out of the wall-length windows overlooking the Ghastly Gorge below. Pinpricks of light dotted the walls and floor of the canyon, marking what was no doubt some of the outdoor play spaces of the Society. She tried to occupy her mind by wondering how deep the cavern extended beneath the gorge below. ‘I wonder if Rarity used to take her old slave colt down there to….?’

She quickly shook her mind free of the thought. ‘That’s silly. The two would have obviously gone to that other site, Clocktower Equestria West, where most colt slaves go, where Rarity no doubt trained her slave to please…..’ Twilight tried to distract her wayward mind by looking instead at the wall opposite. The rich wooden panels were lined by bulletin boards giving it a real school corridor feel. One poster explained how all the collars and cuffs were designed with interfaces that easily snap and lock together with the leashes, chains, hooks and equipment around the society. She felt her hoof wander up to her neck as she wondered how she would look with that collar Rarity was making for her. ‘Would I look as good as the dozen other slaves Rarity and Doc have no doubt toyed with? Would I be able to please them as….?’

She had to stop herself from poking a new hole in the bulletin board with a faceplant. Here she was, newly enlightened of the identity of the pony who had been involved in traumatizing her herd sister, and she was preoccupied with how she compared to him. The protective anger was there, sure, but so was this desire, this need to be the B.S.S.F. ‘What if...what if…’

“Twilight, are you alright?” Twilight looked up to find Bell Chime hovering in front of her muzzle. “Would you like me to signal for the nearest first aider?”

She blinked, catching herself in one of her hyperventilating Smarty-Pants-spirals. “I-I-I’m alright, Bell Chime. Very alright. Th-thanks for worrying about me, but I’m fine. See? Totally alright.” She lied. “Let’s keep going.” She strode past the concerned little familiar.

“I-I am dutybound to remind you that S.A.S.S. is grounds for referral to a Society counsellor, Twilight.” Bell Chime called out as she hurried after her.

“Sass? What’s that?” She asked, slowing down for her kindlesprite.

“S.A.S.S. stands for Safeword Avoidance Submissive Syndrome.” Bell Chime explained. “Despite the name, it also describes ponies, submissive and dom alike, who fail to look out for their own wellbeing. It is part of my core duties to prevent, identify and act on any evidence of S.A.S.S.”

“S.A.S.S….” Twilight murmured thoughtfully as she turned the corner. She didn’t get to ponder the thought long as she found herself amidst her excursion group in one corner of the education centre’s airy foyer.

“Oooh, oooh, Princess Twilight Sparkle! If I knew you were in the same excursion group I would have waited up!” Firefly Glow waved a hoof excitedly at her. “See, I told you she’s a cock-nerd like us.” She gave the Saddle-Arabian mare beside her a nudge.

“This excites me.” Fey said in her usual deadpan.

“Us or cock?” Firefly asked mischievously as she pressed her withers up against Twilight’s.

Fey seemed to give this plenty of consideration – All one millisecond of it. “Cock.”

“So cooooooold. Princess Twiliiiiiiight, Fey is being mean!”

Twilight paused, her brow twitching into the briefest of frowns as she recalled Blueblood’s warning. But something told her Fey wouldn’t be able to deceive her way out of a paper bag while Firefly just wears it on her head. Having the knowledge advantage, she could afford to cautiously get to know the two. “Are you really going to argue that?” She asked with a playful smile.

Firefly took a moment to consider the merits of arguing cock. “Huh, touché.”

“And please, call me Twilight.” Twilight added what was quickly becoming a regular postscript to all her introductions.

“I still prefer cock.” Fey said. Twilight was beginning to suspect information travelled at different speeds through the mare’s mind.

“In plain Equestrian, that means ‘you can call me Fey’.” The Fey sockpuppet made a return. “And this is my best friend, the most awesomely amazingling, Firefly.”

“I only met you an hour and twenty two minutes ago when I saved you from your toilet paper emergency in the bathroom.” Fey pointed out.

“It was fate. It was a sign from the Fire of Devotion.”

“It was out of order. The sign on the door said so.”

“You don’t want me as an enemy.”

“Point taken. Firefly is my best friend.”

“See, I can do friendship too.” Firefly grinned widely.

There was just something about being able to casually toss cock around in a conversation. It required a special kind of friendship, one that was new to the Princess of Friendship herself. As she joined in their naughty giggles she decided it was one she could definitely get used to.

“Hello, everypony.” A tall, elegant mountain-gray mare strode up to the front of the group, her friendly maroon eyes twinkling as she smiled in greeting. “I’m ever so pleased to be able to welcome you all to the Society. My name is Ivy Rose and I will be your guide for your excursion today. Just to remind you, this group is heading down route C to the Cock Worship Guild. If you signed up for the groups exploring Pet Town, the Snuggle Den, the Borderlands or the Communal Cum Baths, your PipSub can lead you to where they’re meeting. Now, I absolutely adore questions so please feel free to ask anything as we go along.” She waved them all after her out of the foyer, leading them across the roofed bridge connecting the education annex on one side of the gorge back to the main Clocktower citadel on the other.

Twilight felt a touch of trepidation as she reached the grand staircase down into the dungeon levels. She had a bad feeling no amount of experience descending those broad steps would ever dispel that sense of apprehension. She tried not to think about it too much, instead focusing on her guide’s voice. “This is where the dungeons properly begin. You know, just in case the decor wasn’t enough of a clue.” She said, nodding at the gate flanked by the two brazier-bearing slave mares. “Submissives must wear collars in all public areas beyond this point, for safety reasons. That rule is more lax on doms and their masks. Speaking of, to your left in that shadowy fort-like place are the dom locker rooms. The switches among you may want to visit it on one of your dom class excursions, but for today our trip will focus on equipping you all as subs.” She led them over to the collar-shaped doorway Twilight remembered from her first visit. “Here are the collaring chambers. Three guesses what it’s for.” She said to a chorus of chuckles.

“Collaring.” Fey answered, primly.

“That’s correct.” Ivy smiled at the mare to more subdued chuckles from the group. “If for whatever reason you took your collar home and forgot it, you can always borrow a spare one here. Just don’t think too much about where it may have been.” She grimaced to a few winces from the crowd.

“Doesn’t some sort of alert go out to the guards if a collar is removed from Society grounds?” Twilight asked, remembering Lyra’s chapter on collars.

“Ah, glad to see somepony has been doing her research.” Twilight glowed a little at Ivy’s praise despite starting to feel a little like a foal before a teacher. She had begun to develop a sneaking suspicion Ivy was some kind of school marm outside the Society. “Yes, the collars will alert the guards if somepony wears them while crossing the Society’s bounds. They can, however, be carried outside for use at home.”

Twilight was just imagining wearing her collar while Rarity used her as a ponyquin in her store when she realized her excursion group had moved on again. “Let’s go inside, shall we?” Ivy said, inviting them inside. The collar display room was just as she remembered it with its rows of glass cabinets offering collars and cuffs of every size. Ivy, however, managed to show her another large doorway she had somehow managed to miss.

“In here are the submissive locker rooms where you will store your collars, cuffs and other personal items between play.” She allowed them all to peer around the corner into a room quite unlike the rest of the dungeons, brightly lit and modestly appointed with green-tiled flooring and walls. The walls were lined with tall metal locker doors, each equipped with a PipPoint. “You can slot your PipSub into any of those PipPoints and the magical machinery will summon your locker to the door.”

“Hah, not only is your locker not in a fixed place, you can’t pick the lock. Double the protection! Come at me now, locker-pranksters!” Firefly cheered. One earth pony mare chose that moment to open her locker on the opposite side of the room, only to be swept away in a tidal wave of condom wrappers.

“You were saying?” Twilight giggled at Firefly’s look of disbelief.

“There is a lot of protection on that locker.” Fey said in her usual deadpan.

“Now, you would have noticed that this room is green-themed.” Ivy went on. “Does anypony know what means?”

“It’s covered in green condom wrappers?” Firefly ventured.

“It’s a no-play zone.” Fey answered before Twilight could even open her mouth.

Twilight fought to bury her indignant pout as she listened on to Ivy. “That’s correct, darling. Remember, green rooms are ‘clean’ rooms, usually bathrooms, rest areas, water fountains or first aid points. They are strictly not for kinky play. You’ll find them behind green doors clearly marked with what they are. Remember that safe rooms are generally not green rooms, meaning kinky stuff is acceptable within reason.” She turned to a series of water fountains arrayed along one wall. “As you can see, these water fountains have a green label on their faucet. Anypony know what—?”

“Itmeansthewaterissafetodrink!” Twilight blurted out the answer.

“Oh my, yes, that’s correct.” Ivy giggled good naturedly. Twilight glowed a little, feeling a touch of vindictive schoolfilly pride at Fey’s deadpan stare. “All fountains, faucets, feeding troughs, anything at all with a plain green label, even those outside the green zones, supplies clean drinkable mineral water. Subbing is hard work. Make sure to drink plenty and keep your dom’s property healthy and hydrated.” She winked. “So, while we’re on the subject, what does a green label with slanted white stripes mea—?”

“Mmmpphhjhhhh!” Both Twilight and Fey found their mouths plugged by a certain changeling’s forehooves.

“It means the source supplies ‘mass-produced clean cum’ that has been magically treated and preserved to be safe for consumption and incapable of impregnating mares in estrus.” Firefly answered smugly, basking in the angry glares of her two friends. The crowd seemed torn between flinching and gagging and lip-licking and drooling at the prospect. Considering the excursion group was bound for the cock-worship guild, there was significantly more of the latter.

“Yes, I see somepony, or, rather, someling has been doing her homework.” Ivy gave Firefly a smile. “It’s not for everypony, obviously. But for those of you who enjoy cum-drinking, take care to only drink from taps that are either labelled like so or those moaning and groaning in pleasure. Speaking of taps, follow me and we might just catch a live show.” She winked. A susurration of excited murmurs followed in her wake as she led them out of the collaring chambers. “That gateway there is where you go if you wish to take the quick path straight down to where the action is on the main dungeon floor. There’s also an elevator that can carry you all the way down to Root through there. However, if you want more of a structured ‘arrival roleplay’ before going down to the dungeons, there’s Collar Crescent.” She led them away from the stone gateway to the dungeons that Twilight had descended on her first ‘tour’, instead taking them through an ornate gatehouse opposite that she had somehow missed before.

The crowd gasped as the short corridor beyond opened up to the main cavern, their eyes blinking as they adjusted to the glow of the Fire of Devotion far above. Twilight noticed they had come out onto a large circular plaza hugging the cavern wall on the other side of the glowing golden waterfall she had walked around on her first night. Here, bathed in the plaza lanterns and the light of the goldsprite flakes floating through the air, was what looked like a grand tea house hanging from the cavern wall. A few gazebos magically hovered in the golden waterfall’s glowing mist, serving as extra seating spots.

“Here we are.” Ivy waved at the tea house as they drew near. The old wooden manor only seemed grander and grander as they approached. The broad, circular wooden construction and the immense size of the wooden beams supporting it told Twilight this was very early Equestrian earth pony construction. “This tea house was named after the statue holding up the waterfall there.” She pointed at the giant statue of the mare from whose cupped hooves the waterfall flowed. “She’s the first of Clocktower’s submissives. Anypony know who she is?”

Twilight stifled a little gasp. How could she have walked down those steps past that statue without recognizing her? “Princess Platinum?!”

“Very correct, darling. They say that if it weren’t for her long, secret affair with both Hurricane and Smart Cookie, the world would be a very different place today. The statue and tea house stands today in her memory.” Ivy said, waving at a slave mare dressed in a Clocktower maid outfit who bowed and welcomed them inside. The cozy seating area within was teeming with ponies and the occasional zebra, gryphon and diamond dog, all being tended to by slave maids. Twilight quickly noticed that there was a pattern to the clover-shaped floorplan, with more gold-band slaves sitting in one area, purple-bands in another and orange-bands in a third. “There is a certain etiquette to this place. As you can see from the dark green lining most surfaces, it’s a no-play zone. The floor plan is divided into several areas, each catering to different styles of play such as pet play, forced roleplay and all the rest. This ground floor is for upper dungeoneers like you lot starting out. The floor above is for those heading for the lower dungeon. And the top floor is for deep dungeoneers. Sitting at a table in one area means you are looking for others to play with. The number of empty chairs around you codes for how many partners you are looking for.” She paused as she noticed one mare raise a hesitant hoof. “Yes, dear?”

“I though the slave pens are where we look for partners?” The earth pony mare asked.

“Oh, yes, the Trainer’s Guild slave pens is one really fun way to look for a game or two,” Ivy chuckled fondly, “But it’s not for everypony and is certainly not the only way. This tea house is a good place to do it in a calmer, more relaxed manner. Some ponies prefer it as it gives them the opportunity to plan out their session over a cup of tea too. And there’s always the ads on the Trainer’s Guild job board, the market, auction house, the animal shelter and pet shops in pet town or even out in the dungeon streets; there is no shortage of places to find your flavour.”

As they trotted back to the plaza outside, Twilight couldn’t help but wonder what her first fateful night would have been like if she had taken this route down and seen the tea house first. What if she had sat down and listened in on the subs discussing how they would like to be methodically broken down into sex toys for their doms? She giggled softly to herself at the thought. She’d have been a lot more crazy-confused, come to think of it.

Ivy paused by a towering bronze signpost cast in the shape of a tree that stood where the plaza split off into a number of paths. “From here you can see several paths down. That first path there leads to ‘Pet Crescent’ where pets can enjoy ‘induction and arrival’ roleplay before going straight to Pet Town proper. They offer things like ‘pet license registries’ where one can roleplay ‘giving up being a pony’ and ‘becoming a pet’. They also have the harsher ‘taming dens’ for the wilder ‘bratty’ pets.” Several members of the crowd shared an excited murmur at this.

“Somepony very imaginatively decided to name that next path ‘Rape Crescent’. That way leads to the Borderlands, the non-consensual roleplay hub of the Society.” Ivy struggled to make herself heard over the rising babble of excited chatter from the crowd. “Alright, everypony, shall we head on down to the Cock Worship Guild?” The chatter died away almost instantly, ears swivelling attentively to the very mention of cocks. Ivy couldn’t help but chuckle at their expectant looks.

“We’ll be taking this last path through ‘Slaver’s Crescent’.” Ivy took the lead once more. They followed her along the brick path winding down towards the glowing golden lake below. A fancy courthouse-like building with a tower fashioned after a rolled scroll loomed up to their right. Twilight followed Fey’s gaze towards an open platform in front of the courthouse. Up on the raised scaffold was a unicorn mare in the midst of printing her hoofmark on a scroll before two officious looking ponies. The mare then lowered her neck onto what Twilight recognized as a collaring block. She couldn’t help but notice Fey’s tail swish excitedly at the sight of a tall stallion in a black hood snapping a silver-studded red collar around the new slave’s neck.

Firefly seemed more interested in the stableyard next door where mares and the occasional stallion were waiting to be phaser-branded as livestock before being packed onto a cattle cart. Twilight found herself drawn to a mare being stretched spread-eagled before being secured by two burly stallions in a cage in a shipping yard, no doubt awaiting trafficking to whatever fate awaited her in the dungeons. The group as a whole couldn’t help but tremble at the muffled cries emanating from the ‘slaver den’ at the end of the road.

Twilight found herself on more familiar territory as the road opened up onto the long dungeon boulevard outside the Trainer Guild’s slave pens. She recognized the alleyway she had watched that poor victi–...happy slave get dragged away for a gang bang.

As the group made their way down the road Twilight took her time taking in the sights. She noticed one shop on main street advertise itself as the Society’s creamiest bakery, ‘Le Pain à la crème’. It was part of a larger compound of stable yards and grazing fields dominated by a massive milk-urn-shaped roundhouse, no doubt the Milk Mare’s Guild the guide book spoke of. “Oh my gosh, is that…” Firefly gasped, pointing at the dairy stalls adjoining the bakery proudly displaying the bakery’s bound marecows. The poor livestock moaned helplessly to the hum of the industrial milking machines sucking their teats of their cream.

“Yes.” Fey eyed an earth pony mare lying on her back in a specially-fitted barrel in the yard, her rear hooves raised high over her own head, her foalhole presented to the sky. The slave moaned into her bit gag as the baker stallion poured fresh mare-milk into the butter-churning vat that was her clamp-stretched pussy. “They are making butter. And they are doing it wrong.” The poor mare groaned helplessly as the stallion began to ‘churn the butter’ in slow, torturous strokes with a broad dildo-tipped churning rod. “So very wrong.” The Saddle-Arabian mare held her breath as the stallion ground the churning rod deeper, drawing a keening wail from the mare.

Twilight herself stared transfixed at the inside of the bakery. She hummed a little tune to herself as she donned her starched baker’s apron. The day starts before dawn for bakers, but she didn’t mind it one bit, not when she got to wake up her Master with a slow, loving suckle on everything from his balls to his stallionhood. Oh, the look on his face when he woke up with his cock hilted deep inside her was priceless. And so was her ‘breakfast’.

She would have loved to stay in bed and warm Master up a bit more, but unfortunately the marecow in the stable does get restless if she wasn’t prompt. She picked up a clean milk pail in her magic as she trotted out into the adjoining dairy stalls. The beautiful, snow-white and midnight-velvet marecow curled up on her warm bed of hay gave a welcoming murr as she straightened up beneath her cow blanket. “Good morning, Raricow. Did my favourite marecow sleep well?”

“Moooo~” The marecow gave a slow, luxuriant moo as she licked her owner lovingly.

“Oh, yes, I had the same dream about Master. Isn’t that weird?” Twilight chuckled, nuzzling the marecow. A sudden rumble filled the stall. “Oh, is somecow hungry?” She giggled at the marecow’s pouting blush. “Come on, let’s get you fed.” She gave the hungry marecow a light magical tug by her collar bell towards the stall’s feeding trough. She refilled the water trough before filling the feed tray with her own homemade marecow kibble. She carefully leashed her cow to the trough, making sure she focused on her breakfast. She knew how distractible her cow could be, especially during milking. “Would you mind if I help myself to some milk?”

“Mooo~” Her cow mooed in assent, lifting one hind leg to make room to allow her mistress to place the pail underneath her teats. Twilight gave her pet a pat on the rump for her show of obedience. They say there are many ways to milk a cow and that the livestock barns next door have the most efficient techniques with their newfangled milking machines. But her Master had taught her that the best milk was produced by milking a marecow with love. And Twilight was nothing if not loving, especially when it came to her slave marecow.

She floated her riding crop over, tapping the marecow’s hindlegs wide apart before locking their fetters into the spreader hooks secured into the stall floor. Her marecow tensed up a little but allowed herself to be secured for her milking. Twilight marvelled at how far her slave Raricow had come since the day they broke and domesticated her.

Twilight looked underneath her at the full boobs hanging heavy with milk between her thighs. Beads of milk were already budding invitingly at the tip of her erect teats. She reached out with her magic and grasped one teat in her magic, squeezing the sensitive flesh tight as she gave it a firm tug. “MoooooOOOOOO!” The marecow threw her head back and mooed loudly as her warm milk squirted into the pail. Twilight used one forehoof to grip the white mound of flesh at its very base, squeezing tightly as she kneaded it from root to the magically-gripped tip. “MooooOOOAaaaah!” Raricow cried as even more milk burst forth from the tense nipple.

Twilight couldn’t help but begin to feel thirsty watching the warm fluid gush out from the strained tip under her firm massage. She decided to pick up one of Master’s special leather belts from where it hung on the wall. She looped it around the root of the marecow’s breast in place of her hooves and tightened it, the coarse-side turned towards her soft, marshmallowy skin. With one tug of her magic she tightened the belt around the base of her mammaries, squeezing the marecow for all she was worth. “Moooonnhg! Mooonghhh!” The poor marecow could only moan and pant as she was milked roughly with the leather belt.

Her hooves free, Twilight eyed the other nipple ravenously. She leaned in and licked the bead of milk from its tip, swirling her tongue around the little nub as she savoured the taste. She suckled on it hungrily, moaning as the first trickle of warm milk began to flow into her mouth. Twilight sighed as she suckled contentedly, absentmindedly strapping another leather belt around the tender flesh. She sighed happily as a jet of milk splashed down her throat to the beautiful chorus of Raricow’s moans.

There was something else trickling down around her milky mounds now, something hot, sticky and tangy, something delicious. And Twilight needed more. She continued on suckling on the teat as she reached up and pushed forehoof in against her marecow’s sopping cunny. “Moooohaaa-haaaaaaa-haaaaaAAAAAaahnnn!” The marecow threw her head back, almost instantly coming as she teased apart her pussy lips and pushed into her tight snatch. Twilight gave no thought to the marecow’s quivering pussy climaxing around her invading hoof. She simply pushed down into the mare’s oversensitive flesh, using the internal leverage to grind on her breasts from above to squeeze out every, precious drop.

“Twilight, you are mooing to yourself.” Twilight gave a startled gasp as she realized Fey was speaking in her ear. “I thought you might want to know. It’s weird.” There are some ponies who have no right to call others weird and then there are some who are simply advanced experts on the subject. Twilight decided Fey was the latter.

“It was the adorable inner marecow in her heart, okay? No need to be jealous, you have one too.” Firefly pushed the two stragglers along up the street towards the rest of the tour group.

“But it’s not much use inside me. I want an outer marecow,” Fey protested.

“...If you ever struggle to find one, your PipSubs can navigate you to the nearest one in a jiffy.” They caught up just in time to hear Ivy say.

“It can find me an outer marecow?” Fey’s face lit up expectantly.

“I think Ivy’s talking about safe rooms.” Twilight pointed out. The droop in Fey’s ears almost made her feel guilty.

“The doors are always coloured hazard yellow and brightly lit like so.” Ivy pushed open the door labelled ‘Safe Block 8’. “Inside are the safe rooms, also interchangeably called safe word rooms or aftercare rooms. This is where you go if you need somewhere private to debrief after a safeword or cuddle up after a session. The den mothers do an excellent job of keeping them neat and cozy. Just remember, despite their names, they are not green zones.” Firefly raised a forehoof for her attention. “Ah, question over here.”

“So if we’re, say, silver-studded collars or we’re limping through one of the free-for-all zones, and Flames forbid, we’ve had enough dickings for a day, what should we do?” Firefly asked. “I mean, I can transform into a rock that says ‘good luck dicking this’. But what should everypony else do? Paint themselves green?”

“Maybe you can just remove your collar?” Twilight suggested. “The chapter on collar coding did say ‘no collar, no play’.”

“But the sign at the entrance said all slaves must be collared.” One unicorn mare in the group pointed out.

“Then if you are not wearing a collar, you are not a slave.” Fey pointed out the obvious to sudden murmurs of understanding.

“Oooh, I get it.” The unicorn mare nodded in understanding. “The sign says ‘all slaves must be collared beyond this point’, but without a collar you are not a slave and therefore nopony can play with you.”

“Pssst, Twilight, did Fey just make sense?” The changeling hissed aside to Twilight.

“Or are we beginning to understand Fey?” Twilight giggled as horror dawned on planet Firefly.

“I heard that.” Fey protested.

Twilight tapped a hoof on her chin thoughtfully. “But I can see how many ponies might misunderstand the rule about slaves having to be collared in the dungeons.” She frowned.

“I have never thought about it that way,” Ivy admitted, looking thoughtful. “I will flag that up as something that needs reviewing….and arguing about, as always.” She added to herself in a low mutter. “Thankfully, there’s a much clearer way to signal to everypony that you’re out, one that kind of allows you to avoid breaking character. Let me show you.” She showed them to a closet to one side of the hallway inside. The closet opened to reveal a selection of what looked like longer versions of those fluffy wool jackets Rainbow liked to wear. “These are afterrobes, or, as most members call them, ‘aftercare hoodies’. Dom or sub, anypony wearing these are not in play. These emergency spares only come in white, but all of you will be able to get one in whatever colour and design you want in the Aftercare Store in the Main Hall. The Den Mother Guild, our aftercare specialists, designed the enchantment on these to make them stain-proof and super comfy. In fact, in the immortal words of its first test subject, SP-0872, it’s warm and fluffy like it just came out of a dryer, forever.” She gave them all a chance to feel the soft, velvety fabric. Twilight felt goosebumps run up her spine at how unnaturally warm it was despite having just come out of a cool dark closet.

“Do we have to carry one down with us then?” Twilight asked as she considered starting her own dungeon checklist.

“And this is where the convenience packed into your PipSubs gets ridiculous.” Ivy grinned, pulling out her own. “Lilith, afterrobes ON please.” The PipSub clicked and whirred before projecting a glowing green magical circle onto Ivy’s chest. Twilight quickly recognized the spellweaving to be that of a particularly advanced summoning spell. She watched intently as emerald sparks erupted from the circle, zooming around Ivy’s forehooves and withers to trace the ghostly outline of a robe. In one final burst of sparkles her black aftercare hoodie materialized out of thin air. The group ooed and aahed, a few bringing out their PipSubs to try it out.

“Can you do that, Bell Chime?” Twilight asked her own PipSub.

“Silly Twilight. You don’t need afterrobes until you become a full member.” Bell Chime popped her head out of her housing with a giggle.

Ivy chuckled at the disappointed faces in her group. “Patience, little ones. It’ll come in time. Now, a word of caution. The eggheads who designed this spell warns against wearing anything other than your collar, cuffs and minor accessories when you activate this spell. It’ll destroy anything inanimate in its way if it doesn’t have enough space to materialize. Also, you can allow your dom to summon your afterrobes for you, in which case it’ll materialize in their hooves so they can dress you personally. Lilith, afterrobes OFF, please.” At her command the robes dissolved away in a trail of green sparkles.

“Hwaa~aahn~aahn...” Fey opened her mouth a cute little yawn as they stepped out into the dungeon streets once more.

“You’re in the kink capital of the universe and you’re bored? Wow, that’s hardcore.” Firefly teased.

“It is fifteen minutes past eleven. Most ponies are either engaging in rough brutal fornication or sleeping at this hour.” Fey pointed out.

“You prefer big words over my company?” Firefly put on her best puppy dog eyes, literally. Twilight was quite impressed at the big, bright soulful canine eyes.

Fey considered the merits of Firefly’s company for all of a second before breaking out another, bigger yawn.

“Fire dammit, Fey!”

“Last stop, the Cock Worship Guild.” The dungeon boulevard ended in a broad plaza overlooking a golden waterfall that plunged into the depths. Far below were a few glimmers of light twinkling in the darkness of what was no doubt the deep dungeons, ‘Root’. A bridge further up the plaza reached out towards a tall tower carved out of a pillar of rock that stretched from the darkness below, its roof almost touching the cavern ceiling.

“It looks….” Twilight blinked.

“....like a….” Firefly murmured.

“...cock.” Fey voiced the thoughts of everypony in the group.

“Thank you, Fey.” Firefly patted her on the withers.

“What?” Fey blinked. “It looks like a cock.”

“Yes. Some witty souls call this place the Compensating Worship Guild. I guess I can’t blame them.” Ivy chuckled. “But most ponies prefer to keep it subtle and call it the ‘Cocktower’. As you can see, their tower extends all the way down to Root. It is one of the few guilds that spans all levels of the society.”

“So you need to be a crystal bell to be able to go all the way to the hilt.” Firefly said to some less reverent giggles.

“Each of the society’s guilds serve to bring together ponies of similar interests and to manage the facilities, services and skills training required for said interests.” Ivy said as they crossed the grand bridge spanning the chasm between the plaza and the tower.

“Cock.” Fey once again vocalized their thoughts on the grand if phallic-shaped gates into the tower.

“While the main Trainer’s Guild slave pens at the dungeon entrance is no doubt the largest, most guilds operate their own variation on the slave pens where subs get to roleplay the experience of being held captive while waiting for prospective playmates. Some guilds will call it something different, for example the Pet Play Guild has a pound and an adoption center, while the Milk Mare Guild has a livestock yard.” The bridge continued into the grand hall inside. Twilight peered over the bridge railing and found the Cock Worship Guild’s own slave pens on the floor below. They were empty, all their slaves no doubt out for play at this hour. “Notice the sign outside the pen.” Ivy pointed out the large yellow clockfaces on either side of the gates. “That means the area beyond is a ‘free-to-approach-place’ or ‘F.A.P.’ Any collared pony without silver studs entering that area unaccompanied are treated as ruby-studs — Meaning it is acceptable to approach them with permission. You will find special zones like that all around the society. The other one you all need to remember to look out for are the red clockfaces which mark the boundary of ‘Fields-of-Unspoken-Consent’ or ‘F.U.C.’, areas where all unaccompanied collared ponies are treated as silver studs. Can anypony tell me examples of F.U.C.s?”

“Ooh, ooh, Borderlands!” Firefly answered excitedly.

“Rape Crescent?” Twilight suggested.

“The hunting grounds…” Fey murmured, dreamily.

“All correct.” Ivy nodded approvingly. “To avoid you walking accidentally into such zones, your PipSubs will automatically blink yellow or red and vibrate as you approach. I hear the newer edition kindlesprite coming out soon are so smart that they can tell whether or not you intended on entering the zone and warn you if they need to.”

Bell Chime poked her head out of her PipSub to give Twilight one of her smug ‘be proud of me’ looks. Twilight couldn’t help but giggle fondly as she gave the kindlesprite a well-deserved petting.

Further along Twilight spied some activity in what looked like rows upon rows of washing stalls. “The larger guilds have roleplay facilities attached to their pens, such as overnight sleeping cages, feeding halls and wash rooms,” Ivy explained as they continued on.

Some of the stalls held slaves, their lithe little bodies spread apart in their restraints, allowing doms or keeper maids to clean them inside and out. Twilight couldn’t help but notice a snow-white unicorn mare, her shivering form spread apart for the world to see, her trembling legs pulled open with unforgiving spreader bars. Her recently-used marehood was pried wide open with a pair of cruel-looking clamps. The sixty or so (Twilight lost count at 30) tally marks on her flank and engorged belly spoke of a very busy night of dom after dom destroying her ass and cunt. The mare moaned loudly into a bit gag, stretching her back and testing the chains binding her hooves, as her trainer scrubbed her pussy with a long-handled mare-brush twice the size of a hoof. A thick mix of stallion and mare cum dribbled out of her ruined cunny as her trainer pumped cold water in while pumping the mare-brush with long, firm strokes in and out.

“I’m going to clean deeper. Are you ready, slave?” the trainer warned. The brave unicorn mare nodded stiffly, closing her eyes and biting hard into her gag. She gave a loud cry, throwing her head back as her trainer pushed the brush deep inside her with one strong thrust. The unicorn mare trembled and spasmed against her spreader bars as her pussy quivered violently around the tip of the brush handle still visible outside. Fresh steaming marecum streamed out around the deeply buried brush handle. Her shriek finally died down into a weak whimper as she sagged in her restraints, a sticky mix of thickening marecum and congealing stallion seed seeping out with the cold water washing out her broken cunny. Her engorged belly slowly began to shrink, her trainer helping by gently rubbing and squeezing her tender tummy. With her other hoof the trainer continued to pump the brush with slower, gentler strokes as she teased out more stubborn goo that had been packed deep into her innermost parts.

“We’ll leave that in there while we clean out your tail hole,” the trainer said reaching for her metal instrument tray and picking up an anal brush, a chain of thickly bristled balls attached to a long water hose. “Now, raise that rump high.” She obediently stood on the tips of her rearhooves, raising her tush high. “Good filly,” the trainer said as she pressed a cold anal speculum in between the slave’s pussy lips. She was quick to gently rub her snatch up and down the speculum, quivering visibly from the touch of cold steel against her tender flesh as her leaking cunny warmed and lubed the speculum generously. Without any ceremony, the trainer pried the unicorn’s soft marshmallowy ass cheeks apart and slowly pushed the anal speculum in, spreading her ruined hole wide. More congealed stallion seed dribbled out of her abused ass, streaming in rivulets down her quivering thighs.

Twilight blinked as she realized she had been staring. She wasn’t the only one. Her entire group seemed to have followed her gaze, only to watch wide-eyed, wincing in sympathy as the slave’s tailhole was slowly cleansed with the anal brush.

“So, what they’re doing there is a bit too rough for the upper dungeons. In fact, it’s more lower dungeon, gold bell level play. But as you can see, that mare is a gold bell.” Ivy said, pointing out the gold safety bell clasped to the unicorn’s tail. “It is occasionally permissible to engage in specific kinds of gold and even crystal level play in upper levels, as long as the sub and dom involved have the required levels. What is and what isn’t allowed varies from guild to guild. Gold level washing play is allowed in most areas. And in case you’re wondering, yes, it is as fun as it looks.” She winked, drawing a collective gulp from the group.

The bridge ended in a welcome hall built around a tall statue of a collared earth pony colt posing on his knees while reverentially cradling and kissing a disembodied penis. Twilight immediately recognized the colt as Chancellor Puddinghead of the earth ponies. “Chancellor Puddinghead, historical author of the society’s first guide on cock worship. If you’re ever interested, you can see his original manuscript preserved in stasis in the guild library downstairs,” Ivy said.

Twilight’s ears perked up like a flag at the mention of the library. She picked up her pace, resolving to be the first down the grand staircase they were approaching. “The guild leader and her administration work in their ivory tower up those stairs. But I promised you exciting action and that’s in the other direction.” She led them down the long, marble staircase. Several large clockwork elevator rumbled past the center shaft as the group descended across several levels marked ‘dungeons’ before finally reaching a lower hall marked ‘Training School’.

“If we hurry we can catch an exhibition training session.” Ivy hurried them along across the school’s collonaded entrance. Multicoloured light bathed them through ceiling-high stained glass windows depicting submissives in stages of worshipping the penises of various species. Twilight spotted a sign that said ‘Main Library’ and felt some deep part of her whimper in yearning as they rushed past. She and the rest of her group was shepherded down another carpeted corridor past masked ponies in black academic robes and their leashed slaves before they were finally ushered through a set of double doors. Twilight just about caught a glimpse of the placard outside, signposting the room as ‘Training Theatre 7’.

The room beyond was a tiered oval theatre about the size of Twilight’s old library, styled much like those old-fashioned surgical training theatres with a surrounding observation deck. A few of the lavish seats were already occupied by masked ponies, a few accompanied by subs kneeling on the slave cushions beside each seat. A few looked up at them and smiled welcomingly but the rest were watching the rectangular recess at the center of the theatre. Twilight followed their gaze as she took a seat on one of the plush chairs. The recess appeared to house a room fashioned into a medieval dungeon, complete with chains and manacles hanging from the walls.

A dark-furred mastiff diamond dog wearing a jewel-shaped red mask lounged in an armchair at the far end, his bright predatory eyes watching the door to the room intently. He didn’t seem to mind the audience, even with his respectable canine member on display at half-mast.

“Feel free to talk or, if you wish, relieve yourselves.” Ivy chuckled. “One-way sound-proofing will be in effect for this session as you can see from that indicator lamp by the door. Nopony down in that dungeon there will be able to hear us. These theatres are where doms and subs come to learn from watching more experienced members. Some are instructional lessons with trainers explaining various techniques. Some, like this session, are observation classes where we get to watch expert doms and subs demonstrate their skill in a session,” she explained, “Today we have an an ‘adept’ level dom and his ‘numerary’ level sub attending their last promotion session before they rise in rank together. Most guilds have four levels of progression for subs, from the beginner ‘affiliates’ to ‘numeraries’ to ‘examples’ to the most senior ‘ideals’. ‘Numeraries’ are allowed to practice unsupervised, ‘examples’ may teach while ‘ideals’ can freely develop and promote new skills and techniques. Speaking of, here’s our couple now..”

They watched as a tall, slate-gray griffon padded into the room, his talons and feline claws clicking against the stone floor. One claw led a collared mare on a cerberus leash, a young vanilla-coated pegasus who crawled in on her elbows and hocks after him, her form low to the ground where she belonged. Her wings were wrapped in severe-looking sleeves that only revealed the feather tips, each one squeezed tightly in clamps fanning out from the sleeve. Her eyes were obscured by the heavy blindfold beneath her carnation-pink mane.

“You have now entered your proving grounds, slave. You shall have several other trainers, fellow slaves and visitors watching your performance today.” Twilight saw the little mare tense up at her master’s voice alone. “You are reminded that as per society law there are no penalties to your proving should you use any safe words. Is that understood?”

The slave gave a ring of the crystal bell secured to the end of her tail in the affirmative. The griffon gave a grunt of approval as he knelt down to unlink the cerberus leash from the slave’s collar. The poor mare whimpered softly as the leash hung freely between her rear thighs, weighing down on the clover clamps clasping the tender nubs of her nipples and clit. “Now, for your first test, seek out your purpose.” The mare panted excitedly, her tongue lolling out at her Master’s order. Her lack of vision didn’t seem to impede her as she sniffed the air hungrily. It didn’t take her long to latch onto a scent. She quickly crawled up in between her Master’s legs to reach up and bury her nose in the source of the scent, whining plaintively into her Master’s balls for his permission as she drooled freely onto the floor.

“Heheh,” The griffon visibly stifled a fond chuckle at his slave’s adorable antics, quickly clearing his throat to put his dom voice back on. “Silly slave, it wouldn’t be a test if I made you seek out the cock I conditioned you with.” He growled, disapprovingly. The poor mare whimpered softly as she realized she had made a mistake. She quickly sat up and leaned backwards, propping herself with her forehooves behind her, her expression one of pure apprehension. Twilight recognized it as the ‘recline’ position from the submissive position guide, one that she couldn’t help but remember was for punishment purposes. “A good slave knows when she needs punishment.” Gray said, slowly pulling the cerberus leash taut.

“Mmmmhhhnnnn!” The mare bit her lip and moaned as the clamps pulled on their captive flesh, her whole body tensing up to remain rooted in place to allow her master to stretch her nipples and clit taut for her punishment.

Her master took his time, his beak curled into a cruel grin as he watched his slave panting as she struggled to keep her most sensitive bits stretched firm for him. “Such a good show of obedience. Perhaps I might indulge a little and enjoy punishing you. You like it when I enjoy you, don’t you?” He teased her, using his other claw to run the tip of a crop across one stretched teat.

The mare arched her back, stretching her poor abused teat against the crop’s teasing touch. “Aaahhnnnn~” She nodded enthusiastically, her apprehension quickly turning into excitement.

“HyaaaaAAAAAAAaaagh!!” The mare cried as the crop thwacked sharply against her drawn out teat. “MnhhhhaaAAAaaaaaahn!” She flinched as the crop landed on the other without even a moment’s pause.

Twhack

“AaaaaaAAAaahhn!”

Smack

“Mmmmnhhhhhh!”

Whack

“Nyaaaaaaahhnn!”

Twilight felt something sticky and hot against her forehoof. Her cheeks broke into a brilliant crimson as she realized it was her own arousal. She anxiously glanced around her, looking to see if anypony had seen her with her hooves stuck between her rear legs. She felt a touch of relief tinged with embarrassment as she saw her classmates were much too preoccupied to have noticed. Fey was whimpering softly as she bit into one forehoof, her other gripping her seat between her thighs as she grinded against it as subtly and quietly as she could. Firefly, meanwhile, had abandoned all care and morphed one forehoof into a dildo.

Ever since that eventful night, Twilight had been worried that she was an oddball for getting aroused watching ponies being enslaved. She breathed easier knowing that she wasn’t alone, even if the company was certainly colourful to say the least. She suddenly recalled how those viewing spells had accidentally allowed her to look into the minds of those slaves. The scientist in her felt a sudden urge to test for replicability. Thankfully the Princess of Friendship and Ethics in her was quick to distract the scientist with observing the effects of whip physics on mare biology.

“Aaaahn…mmmhhh….mmmm…” The slave panted breathlessly, trembling as the crop’s coarse surface slowly, torturously caressed the reddened skin of her freshly-whipped nipples.

“Hmm, you actually made me enjoy punishing you.” Gray chuckled, gripping the mare’s chin in his talons possessively. “That’s a good slave.” The mare visibly shivered at the praise, her panting breath catching for all of a second with a happy little hiccup.

The diamond dog sitting in the corner didn’t seem to mind the distraction in the test, his lips curled into a small smile of approval as he silently took notes on his clipboard. His canine eyes watched with interest as the slave mare kissed her master’s paws deeply in gratitude before looking up to sniff the air once more. The mare slowly crawled forwards, seemingly drawn onwards by her nose. She winced visibly as the cerberus leash began to drag on the floor, tugging teasingly at her tender teats. But the sting seemed to only cause her to drip even more on the stone floor as she crawled onwards. She paused every now and then to take deeper sniffs of the air before redirecting herself, her nose guiding her closer and closer to her ‘purpose’. Her panting grew louder, turning into breathless little moans as she drew closer and closer, the musk she sought growing stronger and stronger. Twilight noticed the crowd hold their breaths as the slave took one last whiff of the air before homing straight in on her objective. The pegasus mare mewled raspily with excitement as her nose finally bumped into the object of its desire — an enormous pair of mastiff balls hanging over the edge of the diamond dog’s chair in the shadow of his monstrous canine knot.

Twilight joined the audience in cheering for the sub mare’s first victory as it finally dawned on her what the sub’s first test was — to find the stranger’s cock by scent alone.

The slave panted excitedly as she sniffed the tall, pointed spire of the diamond dog’s penis from the precum on the tip down the spine all the way to the where the bulbous knot sat heavily on his balls. She finished by pressing her nose into crook of the dog’s sweaty ballsack, inhaling his musk deeply. Seemingly making up her mind, she hopped back a little and barked playfully at the masked diamond dog. “Wuff! Wuff!”

“Ah, not only has master griffon trained slave to sniff out cock, master griffon has taught her to identify species by the musk alone.” The mastiff finally broke his silence with a slow, thoughtful growl.

“Yes, it took over a year of conditioning but this little slut can now recognize the cock of any species, even tentacles and towerwolves.” Gray ruffled the mane of his slave proudly. The mare purred happily as she leaned into his loving ear scratchings. “There was one little side-effect of my heavy conditioning. Unfortunately my little pet here has become insatiably addicted to cock.”

The pegasus mare gave a whine as she leaned forwards towards the canine cock before her. She yipped and whimpered in disappointment as the cerberus leash tightened its grip on her clit and teats, stopping her with her tongue mere inches away from the tip. “Now, now, remember your manners.” Her Master warned, gripping her mane in his talons to whisper in her ear, earning him a pitiful little moan of hunger from his slave.

“Rollo shall score that as eagerness to worship cock.” The diamond dog waved for them to continue.

“You are too generous, Artisan Rollo.” The griffon smiled gratefully.

“Rollo only asks that Master Griffon demonstrate conditioning technique.” The mastiff said, leaning forwards with interest.

“It’d be my pleasure.” The griffon grinned a feral little grin. His slave only gulped quietly, her breath quickening as she realized what was about to happen. “Unfortunately the only conditioning technique I can demonstrate without the rest of my specialized equipment is this one.” He gave his slave a sharp tap of the crop on her lower back followed by a tap on her flanks. Twilight recognized it as one of the society’s many ‘whip signals’, though she couldn’t quite recall what it meant. The slave was, luckily for her and her poor abused buds, better versed in the language of whips and was quick to press her chest into the floor and raise her tushie high, reaching back to spread her pussy lips as wide as possible.

“This little toy is called a Griffonian Goblet.” Gray showed his fellow master what looked like a dildo with a slightly wider flare. “With a turn of the base, the flare blooms open like so.” He demonstrated how the dildo’s tip spiralled open into a large cup before turning it closed once more. “I’ll let my slave demonstrate the merits of this toy. It’s her favourite after all.” The poor mare moaned into the floor as her master rubbed the dildo against her snatch, using her own arousal to lubricate the toy. With little fanfare, he eased it inside her tight little cunny, earning him a long, slow groan from his slave as he pushed it all the way down to the hilt in one firm thrust. Then, without warning, he twisted the base, causing the tip to bloom deep inside her, causing her to throw back her head in a passionate wail. Twilight certainly didn’t miss the visible bulge swell in the mare’s pubis, her eyes widening as her thighs tightened.

“I find that a combination of both pain and pleasure works best in conditioning slaves. This toy does exactly that, causing pleasure as it scrapes its way out and inflicting pain as it stretches its way in.” Gray went on as he casually looped the mare’s cerberus leash through a ring at the bottom of the dildo. He then ran the leash up her back between her bound wings to secure it to the back of her collar, effectively strapping the dildo inside her with precious centimeters of wiggle room for it to slide in and out. “While I enjoy having a personal claw from time to time, my pet cock warmer here is trained to give herself pain or pleasure as necessary to condition herself to whatever I set her to. Now, with your permission, she’ll be more than eager to demonstrate on you.”

“Go ahead, slave mare.” The Diamond Dog barely managed to finish his sentence before the eager little slave was upon him, kissing the tip of his cock deeply in worship. She moaned pleasurably in appreciation as her little tongue darted out between her lips, licking at the bead of precum budding on the tip. As she leaned forwards, her collar tugged on her leash, causing the goblet to dig into her tight insides. She gave a pained moan into his tip as she burned the taste of his precum into her memory.

She slowly rocked back and forth, allowing the goblet to slide out, tugging pleasurably at her womb and inner walls. She parted her lips around his spear-like tip with a soft moan of pleasure, singing happily around his tip as she welcomed him in with her tongue. Her appreciative moans alternated with pained whimpers as she slowly conditioned herself to his cock.

The canine groaned as his hips began to instinctively thrust his member against the tight entrance to her throat. Twilight watched, entranced, as in one smooth thrust, the mare impaled her throat upon his cock, forcing herself down deep upon the goblet dildo. Her cry of pain and pleasure quivered around the thick canine invader that bulged visibly in her throat, swelling against her collar for all to see. Like the trained cock sleeve she was, she began to thrust herself upon his meat, every movement swinging the leashed dildo like a pendulum inside her. Her lips opened up in a silent moan as she tried to fuck her mouth upon his thick, bulbous knot. She barely managed to get a fourth of it inside her before the Diamond Dog gave a victorious growl, his claws grabbing her by her mane. He pushed her down, slamming the goblet dildo deep inside her as he roared and came down her throat. She could only quiver as the thick bulge in her neck spasmed with load after load of hot canine gunk splashing her stomach.

Master Rollo sighed pleasurably, luxuriating in the afterglow while remaining buried to the hilt in the obedient cocksleeve. He took his time before finally letting go, pulling the slave mare off his member. He gave a little nod of approval at how her lips and tongue didn’t leave a single stain upon his shaft. With the air of connoiseur he cupped her chin and pulled her lips open, giving a satisfactory grunt at the pool of his spunk she had collected for his viewing pleasure. “Swallow, slave mare,” he ordered. She obeyed, swallowing visibly, her audible gulp sending a shiver down everypony’s spines.

The Diamond Dog sat back in his chair with a satisfied sigh as he watched the slave mare kiss his wilting member worshipfully in gratitude. He seemed to nod to himself as he finally made up his mind. He tossed his clipboard over one shoulder as he stood up to his full towering height. He loomed over the mare and griffon, his glare almost cutting as he took a slow deep breath and declared, “Pass.”

“Yaaaaaaaaaaaay!” The griffon and the mare leapt for joy. “We did it, High Spirits!” Gray twirled the little mare in his arms so fast her blindfold flew off, revealing her brilliant amber eyes.

“Whoohooo!” The pegasus mare cheered as she spun faster and faster around her coltfriend. “We made it! I’m an example! You’re a Master!”

“Ahem.” Rollo cleared his throat just as the jubilant couple were bursting into a song and dance number. “Diamond Dog feels left out.”

Twilight slowly zoned out of the festivities in the dungeon below. Not even Firefly’s triumphant orgasmic cry or Fey’s deadpan declaration of her coming reached her. She sat in silence as she eyed the excited pegasus mare, one forehoof absently rubbing her own neck. She had not missed how the pegasus’ neck swelled against her collar under the girth of the diamond dog’s intrusion. For her to allow that enormous cock to enter her deepest, tightest confines, to use her throat for pleasure, surely this is the standard all good slaves aspire to? Twilight reached into her saddlebag and pulled out a pencil, intent on making this the top item of her finalized B.S.S.F. list. As the rest of the audience slowly stood up and stretched, burying her silence in the clatter and chatter of their departure, Twilight stared down at the pencil, frozen mid-sentence at a terrible thought.

‘What if I choke?’

“Twilight?” Bell Chime asked. “What are you doing?”

Twilight tensed up. Her eyes darted between Bell Chime and the rest of her classmates filtering out the door, some with shakier legs than others. ‘It’s just a quick test,’ She reassured herself with a slow, deep breath. ‘Quick test, then we can go home knowing it’s all gonna be okay.’

“Twilight? Wait, that’s not a good ide—” Bell Chime cried out as Twilight pushed the pencil eraser-first into her mouth.

Stars burst in her eyes as she fell to the floor in a fit of wretching coughs, her H.A.R.M. screen projecting into her vision in deep panic red indicating her throat was at risk. As her friends and Ivy rushed to her side, she could only despair at one thought— ‘I can’t worship cock.’