Twilight let out a sigh of relief as she slipped out of the restroom. She had done what she can to clean out the effects of the evil spell with soap, water and a lot of tenacity. The fact that it was powerful enough to affect even her only strengthened her resolve to dispel its nefarious grip.

She had barely taken one step out when she spotted five ponies in royal night guard armour walk by. She quickly dove back into the restroom, pressing herself into the wall. She willed her pounding heart to quieten down as she heard the guards trot by. ‘Even the guards are under its spell. Just how far does this magic go?’ Twilight peered out of the restroom. ‘I didn’t notice any guards patrolling earlier. Could they be tightening security? Did they realize they gave that visitor badge to the wrong pony?’ Twilight cursed her luck as she slipped out. ‘I need to change disguises, fast.’

She hurriedly retraced her steps to the main hall, now considerably emptier that the main bulk of the crowd had come and gone. There were still a few stragglers, all making a beeline for the grand staircase at one end of the hall. A surprisingly user-friendly sign marking it as the entrance to the upper dungeon levels made sure nopony could possibly miss it.

Another group of guards trotted into the hall at that exact moment. Twilight gave a soft ‘eeep’ as she dove in behind the stragglers, keeping her ears and tail low as she willed herself to blend in with the crowd. Her hooves trembled as she took her first step down into the dungeons, looking over her withers all the while. Thankfully the guards didn’t follow her down. But it also meant Twilight could go nowhere but down.

A draft blew through her mane as she descended the long flight of stone stairs. ‘That cavern must be quite massive.’ Twilight thought as the stairs levelled out into a high-vaulted hall carved into a cave. The opulent design from upstairs continued all the way down to the hall, stopping abruptly at a massive gateway. The gates were flanked by a pair of statues of collared mares holding lit braziers high above their heads. Beyond the gates the lush carpet and marble-collonaded walls suddenly gave way to the rough stonework and torch lighting she recognized from the slave pens. ‘Slaves must be collared beyond this point’ a sign by the gate warned.

She bit her lip as she looked around. To one side of the hall was a circular stone doorway styled into giant collar. Twilight didn’t even need the sign engraved on its lintel to know it was the entrance to the ‘Collaring Chambers’. At least whoever built this place had a sense of humour. ‘Time to find my disguise.’ She absentmindedly ran a forehoof across her bare neck again as she followed a pair of mares inside.

She was greeted by a bizarre cross between a castle armoury and a fancy fashion boutique. It was a long gallery of well-lit display cabinets, each bearing a wide selection of collars and matching hoof straps. Various ensembles of saddles, bridles, dock rings and other items were displayed on mannequins dotted about the gallery. Further down the hall was a tall, circular machine that looked much like a printing press. A burst of steam billowed from the press as a masked unicorn mare operated the device. She levitated something out of the cloud of steam, her lips curling into a smile of satisfaction. A quick shake dissipated the smoke, revealing a pair of padlocks shaped like her own cutie-mark - three cream buttersnaps. The mare hummed cheerfully as she carefully laid the pair of padlocks on a silk pillow alongside two shiny black collars.

‘What is that?’ Twilight frowned. She had studied the details of the collars the mares wore in the slave pens to better understand the significance of their differences in colour and styling. Most of the mares in the slave pens wore either red or white collars and had uniform clock-shaped padlocks. She didn’t see any black collars or cutie-mark-shaped padlocks. There was probably some meaning behind the colours and padlocks, something she’d have to work out if she was going to wear one as a disguise.

Twilight crept into the shadow of a mannequin and watched the masked unicorn mare closely as she trotted off past the padlock machine. She vaguely recognized the creamy-yellow unicorn, a certain Sweet Biscuit, one of Canterlot’s more humble and charitable noblefillies. The honey-gold-maned young mare was notorious for being so sweetly innocent and oblivious that Canterlot Mane Street was paved with the broken hearts of her many friend-zoned suitors. The unicorn floated her silk pillow bearing her items, humming cheerfully all the while as she went on her way. Twilight followed quietly until the mare slipped inside one of many reinforced doors lining the rest of the hall, one helpfully labelled ‘Collaring Chamber 12 - Occupied’.

Sweet Biscuit had accidentally left a small crack in the door. It wasn’t enough to peep through, but it was enough for Twilight to cast a complex light refraction spell to give herself a ‘window’ into the room. She felt like a peeping tom as her ‘window’ magically shimmered into being in the air before her. ‘It’s necessary,’ she told herself, steeling her resolve.

The magical window revealed a room lavishly decorated to look like a very luxurious Saddle Arabian seraglio, complete with a throne of silk pillows and airy windows overlooking an oasis. Twilight frowned at that, considering she was certain they were several floors underground. That was when the backdrop blurred ever so briefly, revealing it all to be a spatial simulation spell, one so good it was able to recreate smell, sound and palpable objects.

Sweet Biscuit didn’t seem all that surprised by the simulation, her attention directed more towards the two entangled figures lying on the lush carpet. “I just can’t leave you two alone for even a second, can I?” Sweet Biscuit sighed, shaking her head as she removed her mask.

“Oh, umm...” One of the figures, a brilliant opal pegasus with a silver and candy pink mane, peeled her lips off the other’s to give Sweet Biscuit a meek smile, leaving a glistening string of saliva between the two. “We, um, know you like watching…” She began with a demure blush.

“...your cute little slaves get each other hot and wet for you, mistress.” The other pegasus mare finished her sentence as she licked up the string of saliva saucily. She was the other’s mirror image, save her silky indigo fur, arctic blue and silver mane and impish grin. Twilight vaguely recognized the two writhing entangled forms as the stellarly popular cheerleaders for Cloudsdale and the Wonderbolts, the pegasus twins Lilac Sky and Spring Step.

‘Th-they’re twin sisters and y-yet they’re…’ Twilight’s nethers twitched with barely suppressed heat stomach churned at the thought of such openly shameless incest.

“Oh, you two are simply incorrigible,” Sweet Biscuit gave a fond huff, “But certainly lovable, cuddle-able, mayhaps even...hmmm...fuckable,” she licked her lips in what she probably thought was a foxy way, but her entirely innocent face was only able to achieve adorable clumsiness at best.

“Mistress is so wonderfully cute…” Spring whispered, bashfully.

“...When she tries to talk dirty,” Lilac giggled.

“I-I wasn’t…” Sweet Biscuit faltered, blushing sweetly all the while, “I-I see you two got busy modifying the simulator while I was gone,” she subtly changed topics, looking over at the throne of silk pillows.

“Only the best throne for our beloved Mistress…” Lilac began.

“...For her to rest her tired hooves, if that’s alright with you,” Spring nodded shyly, “Mistress has been walking her charity rounds all around Manehattan…”

“...Instead of taking her perfectly good carriage,” Lilac added with a disapproving look, “Wearing out her poor little hoofsies, again,”

“You don’t have to join in with everypony treating me like glass. I’m not seven anymore. I have four perfectly good hooves I can walk o-...wh-whoah!” Sweet Biscuit was so busy pouting she barely saw the sudden lunging tackle from the twins, bowling her into her throne of pillows. She landed on her back in the throne’s soft embrace, her hooves kicking at the air helplessly.

“Even when Mistress was only seven, she’d walk about Canterlot without her servants,” Spring whispered, lovingly nuzzling one of her mistress’ rear hooves.

“Just like that day she found two hungry homeless foals,” Lilac sighed, kissing the other rear hoof, “The little filly took the twins home with her, fed them, washed them, sheltered them, sent them to flight school…”

“Such a good, loving mommy,” Spring whispered, playfully blowing on the underside of her mistress’ hoof.

“Wh-who are you referring to as ‘mommy’? I-I’m o-only t-two years older than you two!” Sweet Biscuit blew her bright red cheeks up angrily.

“Um, well, if you don’t want to be our mommy…” Spring said.

“...Then you can be our Mistress instead, Mistress,” Lilac chuckled, licking her lips hungrily.

Sweet Biscuit fell silent at this. Her big, emerald eyes travelled down to the collars and padlock resting on the pillow. “This is really quite a significant step. Are you two sure?”

“Mistress, you promised you’d claim us,” Lilac gave a tired huff.

“...Once we turn nineteen and we still want it,” Spring nodded, “And we really still do.”

“We’ve been stuck with our white collars forever because of all your fuss about rushing things,” Lilac muttered, grumpily, “Besides, you’re treating these black training collars as if they were as big a deal as eternity collars,” She nodded down at the waiting collars.

“Um, which you’ve also promised us in three years, by the way,” Spring added, helpfully.

“Gee, I wonder how much fuss there’d be when it’s time for the eternity collars?” Lilac huffed.

So they’re ‘training collars’, some sort of step up from the white collars?’ Twilight thought, ‘Tree Hugger had a white collar, and the Oranges spoke of claiming her. Does that involve switching to these black collars?’ She resolved to continue spying in case the mares drop more valuable information.

“O-only because you two’ve b-been ever so pushy…” Sweet Biscuit muttered, blushing even deeper, “I’m...just as i-impatient as you two, you know. B-But I don’t want you two rushing into this when you’re so young, especially if you feel beholden to me or something or....” She blurted out frantically.

“Spoken like a real old hen,” Lilac giggled.

“Am noooot!” Sweet cried.

“Mistress is ever so adorable…” Spring joined in the teasing.

“Noooo!” Sweet denied.

“...When she’s flustered.” Lilac agreed with a grin.

“Muuu, stop teasing meee!” Sweet Biscuit wailed.

“We want this, Mistress,” Lilac whispered, “More than anything in the world,”

“We want to be yours,” Spring agreed with surprising assertiveness for the normally meek mare, “Forever and ever,”

“So please, make your little slaves yours and your own,” they chorused, sitting back on their haunches together to reveal the taut elastic cords hanging between the clover clamps clasped tightly on the roots of their nipples and clits. The clamps were still hanging loose, though with enough pressure to force their soft flesh to swell into tenderly engorged little nubs. The elastic cords hung taut between their two nubile bodies, swinging and bouncing as they threatened to pull on the clover clamps, tightening their grip on their waiting clits and nipples. And in the centre of each cord was a single attachment ring inviting imaginative ways to pull the clover clamps even tighter.

“Your slaves beg you,” The twins pleaded as one, putting on their best puppy dog eyes as they offered their mistress a silver tray. Upon it were two soft rubber ball gags and, the real clincher, a pair of riding crops - One lilac, one turquoise, each emblazoned with her slaves’ names. “Take us.” They bowed their heads in submission.

The sight was all too much for Sweet Biscuit. It was as if a switch suddenly clicked within the normally sweet mare. A ferocious lust suddenly lit up in her eyes as her lips curled into a cruel little smile.

Twilight felt a shiver at the sudden transformation in the seemingly compassionate mare. ‘C-could this be the spell at work?’ She gulped, watching closer, her nose almost touching her magical window. ‘I-I need to observe closer. I-I might learn something about the spell!’

The twins’ faces brightened up as their mistress dual-wielded the two whips in her magic with a flourish. They gulped as they watched the unicorn slowly, teasingly lick the head of the crops, no doubt intending on making them sting twice as much with her saliva. “Hmm, I may be convinced to make you both mine and mine alone. But I will have you two give yourselves to me.” She caressed their cheeks with the whips, leaving a little trail of drool on their fur, sending shivers up both their spines. “All of yourselves. Every. Little. Bit.” She punctuated each word by circling the wet crop around each of their exquisitely sensitive nipples and finally their clit, forcing helpless moans and whimpers from her little slaves. “Until you’ve given everything you are, body and soul. And then I will take my sweet time slowly enjoying my new toys.” The twins panted, hanging onto every word with ravenous desire.

“But seeing as you’ve asked ever so nicely, I feel a little generosity is warranted. You may choose how you’ll give yourselves to me,” Sweet Biscuit’s smile turned a few degrees more sadistic, “Shall we see how your discipline training’s coming along and have you two orgasm five times to breast and pussy spanking alone? Or shall we test your endurance training with ten forced orgasms each? Or perhaps we may finally complete your hoofing training and have you two impale yourselves to the hilt?”

The twins were trembling from mane to tail, their faces a picture of not only fear but also excitement. “P-please, M-mistress, i-impalement,” the twins barely managed to squeak, seemingly unified in their thoughts.

“Hmm,” Sweet Biscuit licked her lips, her horn glowing brighter as she pulled a set of chains down from the ceiling. The twins flinched with fright and thrill at the clinking of the chains above them. “Before I put your mouths to work, tell me, my little slaves, why did you choose impalement?” The mistress asked casually as she picked up the ball gags, licking and suckling on them as if they were ripe passionfruit.

The twins gulped hungrily at the sight of their Mistress’ drool glistening upon the ball gags that would soon be inserted into their own mouths. “U-um, b-because that i-is the option that w-would allow us t-to pleasure mistress the most,” Spring managed, “Th-this slave wants to massage Mistress’ tired hooves with her p-pleasure sleeve,” the meek little pegasus squeaked bashfully, “Nothing can make this slave happier!” No heartstrings were spared.

“What?” Lilac asked, noticing her mistress looking to her to complete her sister’s sentence, “This slave has nothing to add. She kinda stole my thunder.” She nodded at her twin.

“Then put your mouths to use,” Sweet Biscuit ordered, lounging back luxuriously on her throne of pillows, resting her rear legs with the hooves pointed at the ceiling like waiting pikes, “You have to the count of sixty to prepare your stakes.” The twins practically lunged at their mistress, throwing their forehooves around her rear legs in a desperate embrace. They remembered their manners, kissing her hooftips deeply and lovingly in a show of devotion. They wasted little time in cupping her hooves with their lips, licking and drooling all over her soft, marshmallowy hoofsies. “Mmmm,” Sweet Biscuit sighed with delight, her hooftips curling pleasurably. The obvious satisfaction on her face spurred her little slaves onwards.

Twilight gave a soft gasp as she realized what was about to happen. She suppressed a whimper, one she assured herself was a whimper of sympathy, not lust. She was certainly not becoming wet as she and Rarity lay side by side, diligently drooling and licking their own instrument of torment in preparation to give themselves to their Master, like prisoners drawing their own rack in a show of disciplined obedience. She slowly peered up around her impalement stake, her heart fluttering at the sight of her Master smiling proudly at her obedience as he curled his forehooves around her head, pressing her mouth firmly into her task. She’d redouble her efforts, making a show of gasping and panting in desire, sounds that would no doubt please her Master as she...

The alicorn princess gasped in shock. The evil spell was taking over her mind again! She shook herself clear of the sinful cobwebs, turning her attention back to the screen.

A set of hoof straps magically floated up behind the busy twins. The sisters wordlessly offered their forehooves to their Mistress while spreading their thights apart, all without pausing even a moment in their licking. “Good girls,” Sweet Biscuit said, petting their manes approvingly as the hoof straps locked themselves about all four of their hooves as well as their thighs. “So good in fact that you’ve earned yourself a little help.” Sweet Biscuit floated over a pair of squeeze-bottles labelled ‘Clocktower Research Laboratories Marecum-Based Lubricant Formula - Fresh as the day it was milked’. The sisters wasted no time in opening their mouths wide and sticking their tongues out. The unicorn grasped their manes tight with her forehooves and tilted their heads up. Their thirsty groans were quickly quenched by the bottle’s contents squirting across their lips and tongues. The thick, rich liquid quickly pooled in their eager mouths and dribbled down their chins.

“Suckle,” Sweet Biscuit ordered. The two pegasi craned their necks up to their respective bottles and suckled as their Mistress squeezed the rest of the contents, inflating their fuzzy cheeks to full. “Now, finish up your preparations. No spilling,” Sweet said. The sisters nodded, somehow managing to seal their lips around Sweet Biscuit’s hooftips as they began to lather her soft fur with lube.

Sweet Biscuit sighed pleasurably at the feel of warm lube being rubbed into her velvety fur by the soft loving licks of her two devoted slaves. Her face was filled with not only pride in how well her training showed in their performance, but also joy at their show of unconditional love. She gave them one last loving mane-ruffle, drawing soft moans from the two, before clasping the ceiling chains around their forehoof straps.

The sisters gave squeaks of disappointment as the chains suddenly tightened, pulling them away from the hooves they so craved. They were drawn upright, suspended by their strapped forehooves, revealing their tight little bodies, adorable round pony tummies and their clamped nipples and clit. The elastic cords joining their constricted tender nubs swung and bounced, drawing loud moans from their victims. The sisters balanced with their rearhooves planted wide on the floor, their butts barely brushing the ground. Before them lay their watching Mistress on her throne of pillows as well as their waiting impalement stakes, glistening brightly with drool and lube. The twins whimpered, their thighs rubbing together impatiently, their lust dripping down onto the floor.

“Now, um, before we go on, please test your safety bells, girls,” Sweet Biscuit’s face softened, her compassionate motherly look returning all of a sudden. Twilight frowned at the sudden change. ‘Is the spell’s hold weakening? Is she going to stop this?’

The sisters gave a little nod as they swished and flicked their tails, ringing the bells tied to the ends once.

“Good, I trust you two shall use it when you must,” Sweet Biscuit said, her malicious smile suddenly returning with a vengeance as she floated up the two soft rubber ball gags. “Because you will not be using your mouths anymore anytime soon,” She gave the two a sharp thwack on their rumps with her whips, forcing them to open their mouths to let out beautiful little moans. She took her time, rubbing the rubber balls into their tongues luxuriously. The twins gasped and mewled at the feeling of her magic tingling across their tongue and lips. “I will not be un-gagging either of you again, other than to use your mouths,” She warned, “Any last words as unowned mares? Speak now, or forever hold your peace~”

The sisters moaned longingly at her declaration as they realized their time as free mares would be ending imminently. Their swollen pussies winked hungrily as a fresh wave of lust dripped and dribbled down to the floor between their fidgeting rearhooves. “We’re yours, Mistress, forever,” the two declared vehemently before closing their eyes in acceptance of their fate and opening their mouths wide to receive their gags.

Sweet Biscuit shivered at their unflinching declaration. “I would have you two no other way, my lovely little slaves,” she pressed the ball gags into their waiting mouths, allowing them one last moan before she secured their straps firmly. “Now, prepare to take your vows,” she ordered, whipping them off the ground.

The two pegasi slowly pulled themselves up onto their rearhooves by their chains. Together they took a slow but brave step forwards. They shuddered, moaning into their gags as their sopping pussies brushed against the the two mighty obelisks that would soon rob them of their freedom. They slowly spread their thighs apart in an effort to accommodate the instrument of their imminent enslavement. They were forced to pull themselves up further to position their leaking cunnies over their impalement stakes, wings fluttering as they balanced on their tippy-hoofsies. The teetered there, trembling as they looked to their Mistress to give them the final command.

“Take it slow. You may orgasm at will. I want your bodies to remember every inch you surrender,” Sweet Biscuit whispered, floating their prize into position on either side of her throne - a pair of Clocktower collaring blocks with recesses for their necks where their black training collars lay open and waiting to receive them. “When you feel you’ve earned it, you may rest your necks upon your collaring block.” The twins trembled as their Mistress ran the tips of her whips along their noticeably bare necks. “Now, show me your desire.”

The pegasi sisters whimpered as they slowly relaxed their rearhooves, lowering themselves down. They shuddered as their tender, swollen pussy petals slowly stretched apart around their mistress’ hooftips. Their quivering thighs spread apart wider to accommodate the incredible girth of the first inch invading their nethers. They shared the barest of glances before, as one, they grinded their cunnies into her fur, forcing their tight foalhoals to begin the long, slow process of stretching around her broad hoof. They moaned loudly into their gags on the first knead, small rivulets of marecum leaking out around the tight seal of their cunnies.

“That’s one,” Sweet Biscuit smiled, levitating a paintbrush dipped in red ink and painting the first tally mark on their quivering rumps. The gesture only encouraged the sisters to work rut themselves further into their Mistress’ hooves, panting and moaning as they worked through their first orgasm. “Well done. Here’s your reward, a little encouragement,” Sweet Biscuit smiled at the panting, moaning wrecks that were her slaves. She levitated over a tray full of assorted hooked weights. She gave the weights and appraising look before selecting a worryingly hefty one. The two mares looked on in wide-eyed horror as the weight floated over slowly but surely towards the attachment ringing in the elastic cords joining their heaving bodies. It hooked itself into the cord joining their closest nipples, causing it to swing and bounce more violently as it tugged on the clover clamps. The pegasi tensed up, arching their lithe little backs as the bouncing grip on their poor abused nipple forced their orgasms to peak once more with a vengeance.

“Oh, you two look simply adorable,” Sweet Biscuit sighed as she watched their cute, tight little bodies writhe in uncontrollable pleasure. “I cannot think of anything better to masturbate to, can you?” She slowly rubbed a forehoof into her own winking nethers.

“Mmmmf!” The twins cried weakly in protest.

“Oh, you don’t want me to do this?” Sweet Biscuit teased, rubbing her hoof deeper into her sopping pussy, spreading her tender folds around her hooftip. “You don’t want me keeping up with you?”

“Mmmf!” The sisters shook their heads vehemently.

“Oh, do you two want to be the ones to pleasure your Mistress to earth-shaking, mind-blowing orgasm?” Sweet Biscuit taunted, raising their chins to look into her eyes with the tips of her floating whips. “Have me unleash you to rut your Mistress into the ground? Force me to feed you my cum?” She licked her lips with relish. The twins nodded all the more vigorously as each question drove them to rut themselves further and further onto her Mistress’ fuckpoles.

“Hmm, then we’ll see if you can beat my forehoof to it,” their mistress grinned slyly. That gave the two pegasi the push they needed to squeeze the widest part of their Mistress’ hoof past their tight folds. They gave a loud cry as two more inches suddenly slid into their spasming love tunnels with ease now that they had cleared the widest point. Their helpless little bodies tensed up with another mind-shattering orgasm as the flare of their Mistress’ hoof lodged itself deep inside them, their young foalholes trapping them in with their tightness.

Sweet Biscuit groaned pleasurably as her slaves’ hot, tight insides massaged her hooves through their violent orgasm. “That’s two,” she panted, tallying their rumps. “Hmm, I like that number. Two adorably fuckable slaves, two loving little hearts, two orgasms, two weights,” she licked her lips as she selected two more weights from her tray, “Do these look the same weight to you, my little slaves?” She asked, showing her panting and gasping mares two clearly mismatched weights, both very uncomfortable-looking sizes. Her slaves could barely whimper in fear midway through their trembling orgasms. “I suppose we can find out by trial and error.” Their mistress said, hooking one weight on the other nipple cord, sending the cord and its clamps into a rocking jig, drawing a prolonged wave of forced pleasure from her poor helpless slaves. “Oh, am I running out of places for your rewards?” She gasped in mock worry. Her through their tears of pleasure. But they knew there was only one unused attachment point left. They braced themselves as they pushed their pussies forwards and offered their clits up to their Mistress, along with their last unused elastic cord.

“Oh, thank you. You two are ever so helpful,” Sweet Biscuit petted their swollen clits gratefully with the tips of her floating whips, sending shivers up their rumps. Their mistress hooked the largest weight on the cord joining their clit clamps. The sisters moaned as she cruelly pulled down on the cord until it was stretched taut, tugging their clover clamps tighter. The release came all too sudden. The cord bounced and danced, taking their poor abused clits on a merry jig. The slaves threw their heads back in a scream of bliss, their powerless pleasure-wracked bodies spasming in yet another forced climax.

“And that’s three,” Sweet Biscuit smiled, tallying their rumps and selecting new weights even as her slaves shook against their tense chains as unchecked euphoria tore rampant through their tortured bodies.

She hummed sweetly as she skillfully drew out their peak upon her rack of pleasure, adding another weight, then another. Each climax triggered their mating instincts to breed with the mighty phallusses lodged deep in their foalholes, intent on impaling their bodies upon their Mistress with the promise of being filled with foals. The two young mares were powerless to resist their true calling as their Mistress' pleasure slaves. Their bodies would not stop until their holes were filled to the brim, until they were well and truly bred, until they were slaves to the fuckstick in their tight little cunnies.

“Four……..five…….eight...ten...” Their orgasms had merged into one long stretch of unstoppable bliss. Twilight had lost count. It didn’t matter. She and her fellow slave had given in. Their forced euphoria allowed them only one imperative - to fuck themselves silly upon their Master’s impalement stick. Who was her fellow slave? Rarity? Was that Rarity next to her, rocking her body upon her fuckpole in helpless euphoria? And who was their Master? It was somepony special, somepony she loved, somepony she and Rarity would give their whole selves to.

Yes.

That’s it.

Give herself to the one she loved. Give herself to him and only him.

With that wonderful, beautiful, joyful singular purpose, Twilight drove herself down the rest of her enslavement pole. She felt the sword fill her to the hilt, its pommel striking her stretched and swollen pussy petals. It touched something deep inside her, something that now belonged to her Master. She heard herself scream into her gag in an orgasm on top of an orgasm, something beyond mere bodily pleasure, something she felt in her mind and soul. It was giving, submission, devotion.

Twilight felt whatever it was suspending her forehooves loosen. Her weak, trembling body fell limply forwards. She felt something soft and warm, something that felt like the velvety touch of fur, catch and cradle her shivering body. She had never felt so comfortable, so safe. Whatever it was slowly lowered her forwards, allowing her neck to come to rest upon something silken and soft. She felt a sense of profound joy as her mind weakly recognized it as the padding of her new collar. She was resting with her neck upon the collaring block, ready to finally be collared and claimed. She felt a warm tickle of magic as the collar’s wide straps curled around her neck snugly, holding her firm in its embrace. Then there was a click of finality.

Twilight gave a soft gasp, her eyes fluttering open in panic. She found herself curled up on the floor, her forehooves hot and sticky. She gave a little whimper as she looked down, slowly spreading her thighs to free her trapped forehooves. She gasped at the mess. She was just lamenting the state of her ruined tail when she felt her forehoof caress her neck, as if searching for something that wasn’t there.

She felt a soft sniffle rise.

The poor little pony suddenly felt very confused. Why did she feel a pang of sadness? Why did the tingling warmth in her nethers suddenly grow cold? Why did she suddenly feel so...so lonely?

She gazed up at the viewing window still shimmering in the air before her. It was beginning to fade. Something had sapped all its magic. That was odd, considering how much magic she had poured into it.

Didn’t something similar happen to the tower viewer in the viewing galleries earlier?

Her mind froze. That odd, lonely feeling returned with bloody vengeance. She gazed through the viewing window at the warm sight. Their gags and clamps released, the twins had curled up into little balls, pressing themselves into their Mistress’ sides. And Sweet Biscuit seemed happy and content to lay there, cuddling them both protectively as they rested peacefully. “Good night, my little angels,” she whispered, kissing them both lovingly on their foreheads. The two responded by nuzzling into her sides, pulling her into a tight hug. Sweet Biscuit gave a helpless squeak as their ursa-like grips forced all the air out of her lungs.

Twilight bit her lip as she willed the viewing window away. She grunted as she rolled onto her hooves, doing her best to ignore the cold sticky feeling between her thighs. ‘Focus, Twilight! The spell’s winning! You can’t let it! You’re an alicorn princess, a protector of Equestria!’ She chastised herself. She growled angrily at herself as she looked about the thankfully still deserted corridor. She decided she was lucky she wasn’t found while she was locked in the evil spell’s influence.

‘I need to hurry and find my disguise,’ she reaffirmed her objectives, ‘Find the source of this madness, stop it, or, failing that, escape and notify the other princesses,’ she nodded to herself as she stormed away back to the main collar room. She wasted no time in throwing open a display cabinet and pulling out a plain black collar, exactly like the one the twins had received. At the very least that little episode had told her which collar to disguise herself with. Nopony would bother her if they thought she had an owner.

‘Owned slaves have cutie-mark-shaped padlocks,’ she reminded herself of the other little tidbit of information she had learned. She strode over to the padlock printing press. A magical control-screen glowed to life as she approached. It was thankfully a very user-friendly magical operating system. Twilight quickly found herself on a screen asking her to either imprint her own cutie-mark or select an existing one from the library of existing imprints.

She frowned at that. She was quite certain slaves couldn’t belong to themselves, which left her with selecting an existing registered cutie-mark at random. Just as she was wondering whose cutie-mark would be safe to use, one particular cutie-mark leapt out at her. It was perfect. She was sure this particular pony would never step hoof in such a dreadful place.

There was the loud thunk of metal being hammered into shape. Steam burst forth from the machine as it completed its task. Twilight smiled triumphantly as she pulled the newly forged padlock out of the cloud of steam.

She quickly slipped the collar around her neck, feeling a little shiver run up her spine as it locked in place with a resounding click. The newly-fashioned padlock hung proudly at its centre, a silver-engraved electrocardiogram pattern.

Feeling a sense of renewed purpose, she quickly threw on the rest of her disguise - matching hoof straps, one of those tail bells, even a halter and a saddle. She felt a sense of vindictive glee with each item she strapped on, as if she was finally achieving something against the ‘evil spell’.

She did not even pause to wonder why this particular cutie-mark was imprinted in the machine.

Twilight trotted up to the gates. ‘Slaves must be collared beyond this point,’ the warning by the door reminded her. She ran her forehoof along her neck, this time feeling the reassuring touch of her new collar against her hoof. Yes, now she was ready.

She took her first step into the shadows beyond the gates. She felt a chill run over her fur as she traveled deeper into the darkness of the dungeons.

She emerged onto a broad stone foyer. It was dimly lit by a strange lilac glow from above. The edge of the foyer was lined by a carved railing that overlooked a chasm. Twilight trotted over and, hooking her forehooves over the railing, peered over the edge. She gave a teeny gasp. Below, hugging the chasm slope and sprawling out onto the cavern floor, was an entire city of halls and chambers, all interconnected by stone walkways. Her breath caught as she realized she was looking down at the Dungeon Levels of Clocktower.

Feeling a little lightheaded at the sight, she looked up in search of sky, the stars, a touch of familiarity.

That was when a little squeak died in her throat.

There was no sky, no stars, only the chasm wall stretching up into the darkness, curling together into a cavern ceiling hidden away in the lofty shadows. Behind her, the city stretched from where she stood up the chasm walls towards the ceiling. 'Those must be the main floor and upper levels,' she thought as she faintly recognized the viewing galleries she had gazed down from earlier. The upper floors ended in the silent red-eyed cyclops that was the Clocktower. Twilight realized they must have built the mighty clock tower across the entire cavern wall, such that it could be seen from both outside and inside.

But what really took her breath away was what hovered in the air high above the tower’s peak.

It was a gigantic flame, glowing a furious reddish purple in the darkness. From the right angle, one could almost see a shape in the shadow of its flames - it was shaped like a heart.

It was the Fire of Devotion itself.

Twilight felt faint from the sudden revelation - She was inside the original Hearthswarming Cave.