“While we’re here, do you want to visit anypony?” Bluefeather asked, stepping out of the Friendship Express and onto the main platform at the very ornately decorated Canterlot Station. Thanks to the sheer speed of the express steam train, and a clear line all the way from Baltimare, they had made excellent time and arrived just under two hours ahead of their scheduled time of eleven p.m.

“Nah, Blue,” Cyclone shook her head as she too disembarked the train along with all the other passengers to whom Canterlot was their destination. She looked around the well-lit station, expecting to be arrested at any moment, seeing as her banishment from the capital city still stood. “Everypony that matters to me is now in or around Manehatten...” she paused and thought of her dad holed up in the Playcolt towers. “There's nopony here.”

Bluefeather laid a tender, understanding hoof on her lover’s shoulder. “Okay,” she smiled, trying to keep the mood light and loose, “let’s put this stuff away in a locker and fly to your home in the clouds.”

Cyclone smiled at the touch of her marefriend’s hoof. As they had discussed, at great length on the train, the jet black mare was very much an adult in Canterlot. There was no question about it, really. Any shenanigans and she risked being arrested by the Guard, let alone the police. As such, she wore her sky blue sundress – to hide her cutie mark, and a hat, just in case – while they navigated the platform to the storage lockers. “That sounds like a plan, sexy.”

Giggling, Bluefeather stored the stroller and the foal bag in one of the rentable storage lockers on the train platform. She wanted to be quick, she knew not to dally in Canterlot with her marefriend, disguised as she was. “Let's fly,” she said as she paid the few bits into the automatic locker and took the key, “I want to assess the cloud quake damage.”

“Hey uh...Blue?” Cyclone asked, fidgeting her hooves together nervously as a thought occurred to her. She wanted to be in the air sharpish, due to the law and being banished, but she didn’t, because she was scared of heights.

“Yes love?” Bluefeather asked curiously, checking her watch and compass, turning to face Cloudsdale’s current direction, ready to be in the air.

Cyclone took a deep breath and summoned her nerve, knowing she’d have to take off at some point sooner or later. “If um...I um...you hold my hoof, can I uh...fly, next to you, maybe?”

Bluefeather chuckled at that, not at her marefriend, but at the cute request. ‘Oh…you’re adorable when you try to be brave!’ she thought with a smile up at the night sky. “Cy, it is a bit awkward to fly and hold hooves,” she pointed out, flaring her wings and demonstrating that their wingspan was greater than their leg length, “but you are more than welcome to ride on my back, all the way.”

“That’s ah, that’s a very good point.” Cyclone tried very hard and failed to not feel stupid. She did know however that as a weather pony, Bluefeather was more than strong enough to take a passenger. “I'll be riding you then, babes.”

“Hop on, Crinkle Butt!”

“That's not funny!” Cyclone wanted to pout, but she ended up grinning as she got up on the older pegasus’s back. Once she had a firm enough grip around her neck, and had smoothed out her sky blue dress, Bluefeather took off on a long, slow upward glide into the starry night sky and to Cloudsdale. Although she started off just fine, as soon as they passed fifty feet Cyclone gripped harder and let out a scared, “Eeeep!”

“You know I won't drop you,” Bluefeather said in her best reassuring tone, thankful as they passed the Canterlot City walls that the dark night masked the true distance to the ground over six thousand feet below. “But you can press your face in my mane or just look up over my head. Like standing on the ground looking at clouds.”

“I...I k-know Blue...” still, knowing that didn’t help the fact that they were now beyond the city limits, which meant they were really high up. “I tr-trust you, I do…” she trailed off, looking up over her lover’s head.

“I like carrying you too.” Bluefeather smiled, leaving Canterlot behind them, she gazed down over the dark landscape and saw the twinkling lights of Ponyville, the little suburb not far away at all. “My little foal full of trust.”

Cyclone’s grip tightened on reflex when she felt turbulence under Bluefeather’s left wing. “With my life, babes.”

Smiling, in a split second she was on the turbulence, quelling it more from instinct than trained skill, though there was that too. After the – very – brief scare, she made sure to read the air currents better. She kept a slow steady climb, since this was rather an easy flight for her.

After twenty five minutes of flight, almost nine thirty p.m. on the dot, the two pegasi neared the truly gargantuan floating city of Cloudsdale. As they neared the huge floating edifice, both mares were reminded exactly why it was the capital of all the cloud cities in Equestria. “Directions please.” Bluefeather asked once they had flown over the outer boundary layer. She had to admit she didn’t know the city very well, beyond the weather factory.

“Fly towards the weather factory,” Cyclone replied quickly, giving her lover the instructions to get to her house. She couldn’t shake the ‘edge’ to her voice as she spoke, she knew full well she was sending her to the very lowest end of the city, but it was all she could afford. “Then, you want to take a left onto Feather Lane. Fly down there for five blocks until you come to Cumulus Drive. My place is number seven.”

“Gothca, Cy.” Bluefeather adjusted her course to fly towards the monumental weather factory, clearly visible even at night thanks to the many lights around it and the stars above.

Cyclone, as ever on Bluefeather’s back, began to relax considerably with the illusion of a close 'ground'. Underneath her. “You can't miss it,” she said, more than a little subdued at the thought of taking her new marefriend to her house. “Cumulus Drive isn't the most upmarket suburb of Cloudsdale. The cloud houses there are very…let’s say, ‘basic’.”

Forging ahead, flying over the sprawling city past the weather factory, Bluefeather shook her head. She understood Cyclone’s reticence, but it didn’t bother her in the slightest. “Been there, done that, before you were born,” she commented as she flew onto Feather Lane.

“Yeah…” was all Cyclone said, the jet black mare went a little quiet as they neared her home.

Mere moments later and Bluefeather turned off of Feather Lane and she flew up Cumulus Drive. Slowing her flight to a hover in front of number seven, she had to confess herself disappointed. Of the fifteen cloud houses in the drive, five stood empty, three were in a derelict state of disrepair, one had collapsed altogether into rubble. The remaining six, of which Cyclone’s was one, looked to have been maintained by their owners with varying degrees of skill and success. “Standard cookie cutter cloud homes.” She passed her judgement.

“Uh huh. Nothing special.” Cyclone said dismissively as she slid off of the mid grey mare’s back and trotted on up to the door, opening it with her keys to let Bluefeather enter first. “I know it's not much.”

‘Not much’, as it turned out, was quite accurate, as far as Bluefeather could see. Cyclone’s abode was a two bedroom house, with kitchen and living room downstairs. When she walked in, she saw that the living room did indeed look like a minor quake had happened, followed by a hurricane shortly thereafter.

With a smile, Bluefeather noted that the tidiest part of the room was an adult foal playpen set up in the corner near an old cathode ray TV. All around the room there were display cabinets with figurines from television shows and movies – she assumed they were, she really had no idea. On the largest wall, in pride of place was the framed Playcolt centrefold next to a signed Buffy The Vampony Slayer cast picture and a framed musical special CD.

Curious as to what everything was, obviously whatever the Tartarus they were, were important to her marefriend in some way.
Bluefeather decided to first inspect what was familiar and went to the playpen to see if she wanted it in her house. “I'm...sure you have a better one,” Cyclone said quietly, aware that her pink playpen was chipped, old and worn. Just like everything else in her house.

For Bluefeather, who was closely inspecting the playpen, that looked to be older than her, it wasn't about quality, but ascetics. She carefully looked at the items that were in the pen, notably the plushes, the bottles and other foal toys. “Are you comfortable with this one?”

Cyclone looked at the old playpen, bright pink paint chipping and faded, with the same fond smile that you’d give to a twenty year old family pet. “I play in it nearly every day.”

“It goes back with us.” Bluefeather stated in such a way that there wasn’t going to be any arguments. That first matter attended to, she proceeded to look around the rest of the living room for any soiled clothing that wasn’t in a hamper or soiled nappies not in the trash.

Smugly, Cyclone smiled at the full clothing hamper that stood by her playpen. “I'm a little behind in my laundry, but all my bins are empty. Any used nappies go out straight away.”

Bluefeather stood and took a longer, harder look around. While her lover wasn’t ‘tidy’, there was evidence all around the walls of actual cloud quake damage that had been inexpertly repaired, most likely by Cyclone herself. “How long since you've had a caretaker?”

“A dedicated one like you, I haven't, really.” Cyclone answered quickly, “Air Raid looked after me on and off now and then, though it was more off than on.”

“You really don't need me then,” Bluefeather smiled warmly, “but I'm glad you chose me. That…” she pointed her hoof towards the large framed centrefold picture hanging in pride of place on the wall, “is going in my office for as long as you're with me.”

Cyclone let out a happy little giggle, the first since they had been back here in her house. “Take it, from me to you with all the love in my heart.”

Next, in her inspection of her lover’s living room, Bluefeather carefully looked over Cyclone’s extensive figurine collection on the many glass display cases. Thankfully there were labels on everything so she knew what she was looking at. Avengers, X-Mares, Power Ponies, Fantastic Four, Deadpool, Spider-Mare, Buffy The Vampony Slayer, Knight Rider, The Neigh Team… they went on and on, shelf after shelf. Even though there were labels, she was still non the wiser. “Just a couple boxes,” she tapped her chin with her hoof, “hmmm, must be big boxes?”

“Well, who doesn't like Marvel and Buffy?” Cyclone asked defensively, trying to ignore the fact that there were a few thousand bits worth all tied up in her huge collection. “C’mon, don't tell me you've never seen X-Mares?”

Bluefeather giggled and shrugged her shoulders. “I tend to focus on the younger crowd entertainment,” she added, as Cyclone stripped off the sky blue dress, “We’ll need a moving company to get all this stuff out of here.”

Cyclone looked over her extensive collection. Even she didn’t know for sure how many bits had been devoted to it. “I guess there is more than I thought, huh?”

“There is.” Bluefeather said, going quickly into her organised ‘mother’ mode, drawing up a plan of action. “First, I'm starting the laundry. I'll not have dirty clothes moved. Second, you call the factory and set up an appointment for me to have you transferred. Third, I want you to pick a reputable moving company and I'll get them here today.”

“You got it, sexy.” Cyclone fluttered over and kissed Bluefeather squarely on the cheek and, rather skilfully, she dodged around the stacks of comic books scattered all around the floor, getting her phone out to dial Misty Morning, her boss at the Cloudsdale factory.

Now, very firmly ensconced in her ‘mom mode’ Bluefeather, happy that the laundry was at least in one spot, scooped it up and carried it through to the laundry room, getting that started. Next, she looked around the living room for stackable stuff to put on shelves for the movers while Cyclone growled at her phone. “C'mon Misty, pick up!”

An easy, obvious target, Bluefeather started on the seemingly endless pile of comic books. She shuddered, thinking if she sold them for three bits each, she’d make thousands here with just these. ‘And they’re the ones I can see…’ she thought as she placed them on an empty shelf.

Snickering, she had to moved the nicely spaced figurines, ‘crowding’ them to make room for the comics. As she moved them, she was struck by how heavy they were. ‘These are pewter, I’ll bet…’ whatever they were, she saw they were nicely made, well crafted and well painted. Whatever they were. “I'm going to make it as easy as I can for the movers for your important stuff.”

That said, with the washer working to clean the laundry, Bluefeather trotted through to Cyclone’s kitchen to see if there were any dirty dishes that needed to be done. She was pleasantly surprised, though it shouldn’t have really been a surprise, to discover there were no adult cutlery at all. What there were, were Power Pony plates, Avengers plates, foal style cutlery in assorted colours. Some were in the sink, though the majority were clean on the draining board. She also noted there were foal bottles clean in the steriliser.

“C’mon, answer the damn phone Misty!” Cyclone grumbled, sat on her couch that had seen better days before Luna had been banished, frustrated that her boss wasn’t answering her call. “It's the thing near you ringing!” Bluefeather, giggling at her dark mutterings, decided that she was happy with the state of the kitchen and, after cleaning the few dishes that needed it, she put them away. Once that was done she peeked in the fridge and cupboards to see what her lover liked food wise.

“Oh for Luna's sake it...Hi! Misty it's your bestest worker ever!” Cyclone was cut off mid-grumble by the fact that her boss actually answered his phone. “No, it’s not Clear Skies, it's Cyclone!” In kitchen, her head buried in the fridge, Bluefeather had to giggle at that, as she snooped and saw what Cyclone liked. In the door, there were various mashed up foods - pumpkin, mango, fruits and veggies, the lower down there were actual fruits, watermelons and apricots, as well as a half-eaten chocolate gateaux.

Taking a studious note of it all, the mid grey mare then moved on up to the bedrooms on the first floor, while Cyclone was talking. “Yeah...I need an appointment, for a Colonel Bluefeather to transfer me to the Manehatten Weather Factory…” As Bluefeather ascended the stairs, Cyclone’s voice diminished. She found that the largest bedroom had been converted to a nursery, there was no bed at all, but instead there was a pink crib filled with everything a foal could possibly need. She also saw there was an alarm clock and a closet. The smaller bedroom had a double bed and lots of posters on the walls.

Wondering if Cyclone went through a goth stage when she was younger, Bluefeather inspected both of the closets. The one in the foal room contained nothing but onesies, foal grows, booties and such like, almost all of them some violent shade of bright pink.

The closet in the smaller bedroom contained more adult wear. Weather uniforms, dresses, hats adorned the hangers here, though pride of place was given over to a long black faux leather coat. Next to the coat was an almost life sized Buffy The Vampony Slayer poster, featuring the titular mare posing next to what Bluefeather assumed was a vampony stallion with a bleached blonde mane wearing the coat in question.

Having assessed her marefriend’s taste in clothing and the cleanliness of the bedrooms – actually she had been impressed. But for the obvious cloud quake damage that was everywhere, Cyclone’s house was acceptable – Bluefeather trotted back down the stairs to the living room. “Any luck with that appointment?”

“Yep!” Cyclone smiled as she closed up her phone. “Misty Morning can see us, well, in the morning.”

“Tomorrow morning?” Bluefeather asked for clarification, realising the hour was almost ten p.m., and quite late, “or Monday morning?”

“Tomorrow, Sunday morning, at ten a.m. in his office.” Cyclone explained with a bit of a wry smile on her face, “Apparently he was really keen for me to go.”

Bluefeather giggled, “His loss. Okay, so, moving company?”

Cyclone snapped off a salute. “I'm on it.” She knew just who to call for that. “There's a company I used ages ago to get my stuff here from Canterlot, they’re pretty good.”

“Good,” Bluefeather nodded, still firmly in ‘mom’ mode. “We can do power of attorney so we don't have to be here. Call them to see if they are open, please, love.”

“It's a twenty four hour place,” Cyclone said with a smile as she again opened up her phone and got ready to dial, “called Rainboom Removals. 'Getting your things there before you leave', apparently.”

“Then, your next task is to get four boxes that fit in the playpen without being stacked.” Bluefeather continued, ticking off the list of things to do on her mental checklist. “One for your ‘must-not-be-lost-dolls and figures. One for important documents, one for foal clothing, and one for kitchen items. Any space left in any box can be filled with what you want.”

“Got it,” Cyclone said after she had gotten off the phone to the removal company. “To the Bat Cave!” she hollered, trotting over the living room to the utility closet.

Bluefeather shuddered involuntarily, “If a bat flies out of the closet I'm so going to scream.”

“The Bat Cave?” Cyclone giggled behind her hoof as she was about to open the closet door. “Y’know, as in Batmare?”

Bluefeather wanted to kick herself. She settled for facehooving. “Oh...”

“I so need to learn you up on comic books and cartoons,” Cyclone giggled, taking out four decent sized boxes from the closet that held her ironing board, cloud quake repair kit and a family of cloud spiders that were almost pets at this point.

“Food that you have that will spoil will need to be tossed or we can take it on the train to eat.” Bluefeather said, quickly recovering from her faux pas as she watched her marefriend pack. Moreover she studied what Cyclone chose first and the expressions on her face when she did so.

Somewhat predictably maybe, Cyclone went over to the display cases and she started packing up the figurines first, starting with the Power Ponies. As she wrapped each finely crafted pewter figure in layers of newspaper, she had a warm smile on her face. Once they were packed, she moved onto the Buffy set, laying each wrapped up figure in the box in the playpen like they were made of gold.

Bluefeather, watching this reverent behaviour, chose not to help with the task of packing the many, many collectibles. Not to be mean, or make Cyclone do all the work, more that she didn’t know how much help she’d be. Instead she opted to go and get something for them to drink.

As she once more investigated the fridge in the kitchen, she pulled out a carton of pineapple juice and filled two glasses, just as Cyclone saw her Buffy DVD’s and sighed happily. “Aaah... ‘Once more with Feeling’, she smiled at the CD special and started to sing the songs from the musical to herself as the DVD's got packed, then the Avengers dolls followed them.

“One box,” Bluefeather reminded her warningly when she saw the ‘collectible’ box was already dangerously almost full. “Only if there is room in the others can you pack more.”

“I got it, sexy!” Cyclone made a very good attempt at a pout, realising she had been caught red-hooved trying to slip a few of her figurines into the box earmarked for paperwork. As if she’d need that. Deciding not to argue, now that all her display figures were packed anyway, she flew upstairs to get the clothes she wanted to take.

Ten minutes later, the jet black mare hovered back down, carrying a stack of clothes so high she couldn't see over. On top of this pile was the black faux leather coat. There was absolutely no way in the universe she wasn’t taking that. It was a genuine Buffy The Vampony Slayer prop, as worn by Spike in the show. She had the photo and signature to prove it, and it had cost her a month’s pay to buy.

“Remember I have some laundry running if there was something you want now.” Bluefeather said as she watched the winged stack of clothing, consisting of pink onesies and dresses, hover over to the playpen. “Also, I said, just one box! Again, after you put some things in each you can add whatever else you want.”

“I got it, Blue, okay? I got it.” That said, she dumped the mountain of clothes into the box, only filling it three quarters of the way up with her onesies and dresses, making sure the black coat was on top. She then tapped her chin thoughtfully, “Um...there's a pink dress in the wash I really want…”

It was then that she finally looked at the stack of mail now built up behind her front door on her kitchen floor. “I better look through these I guess.” Cyclone hated mail. The post she got was always either bills or crap, both of which she could well do without.

“Yes,” Bluefeather giggled behind her hoof, confident that at last Cyclone had gotten the idea of packing. “You have a letter from Ed McStallion and you may have won the Publisher's Clearing House as well as the Reader’s Digest Draw.”

“I wish,” Cyclone muttered as she trotted over and picked up the mountain of mail. It had only been four days she had been away, and it felt like four trees had sacrificed their lives. Idly she flopped on her couch, wondering if their sacrifice had been in vain. “Let's see...ugh, bill, bill, crap, bill, crap...ooh one from dad?” The letter from her dad stopped her in her tracks, “hmm...dad never writes, I wonder what’s up?”

Bluefeather looked at the ‘bill’ pile and the much larger ‘crap’ pile and giggled. “Maybe he sent you a bill?”

Giggling, Cyclone turned the letter over in her hooves, but sadly the envelope gave away nothing of it’s possible contents, other than it had been sent by Dragon Mail, the fastest mail service in the land. “Huh, knowing my luck, yeah.” Seeing that there was nothing else for it, she tore open the letter.

Reading it quickly, the jet black mare’s facial expression went from curious to surprised to shocked and angry in the space of minutes. “Oh...” was all she said, before she read it a second time, her face making the same expressions. “Oh…” she said, scrunching up the letter and throwing away to a corner of her living room.

“I am here, and I am judging you.” Bluefeather said supportively at the end of the couch, her hoof ready at her marefriend’s shoulder, should it be needed. “Still, I'm not letting you go, so spill it.”

On her couch that had seen better days, Cyclone sighed. “Apparently my mom's in Whinnyapolis. She was working as a whore. She was picked up by the police the other night, passed out on the train station. A social worker gave her a train ticket to come home to Canterlot, and she called dad. Apparently they talked, once the drugs had left her system.”

Cyclone shrugged and carried on packing. “So…she’s coming home, huh?” again, she shrugged.

“It’s your decision on what to do,” Bluefeather said, supportive as ever, she understood what a momentous thing this was for the young pegasus. “I'm with you on whatever you decide.”

“I...I...I don't care!” Cyclone screamed, uncharacteristic anger flaring through her, stamping her hind hooves into her cloud floor as her wings flared out in sheer temper. “I don't...I don't care!” she had hot salty tears in her blue eyes as she picked up her ancient TV’s remote control and threw it across the room. “I don’t care!” Cyclone clenched her teeth as she sobbed, trying to work out how Monsoon had the nerve to call after all this time.

Immediately, Bluefeather moved from the end of the couch to sit by her lover’s side and she wrapped her up in an extremely tight hug. “Your heart disagrees with your words, but I'm still with you.” As she comforted her, the older mare sincerely wished that she didn’t want to bring the couch. It genuinely had seen better days.

Deep in her marefriend’s tight hug, Cyclone didn’t know what to do, she just cried, spilling her tears on Bluefeather’s coat, “I don’t care! Damn it...I shouldn't care!”

Bluefeather shook her head sadly, ‘mom’ mode coming back in full force. “Now, I find that a little hard to believe, Cy.”

“Blue...” Cyclone snivelled like a little filly who had just spilled her ice cream on the floor, “I haven't seen Monsoon since I was six years old!”

“You've had that Radiance plush for that long?” Bluefeather asked, her eyebrow raised. She wasn’t wholly surprised. For her, that confirmed that Cyclone loved her mother very much, in spite of whatever she might say to the contrary. “You've treated it very well.”

Cyclone was still sobbing, though it wasn’t too hard for Bluefeather to make out what she was saying. “It…it, it was the last thing she gave me before she decided to go screw every stallion in Equestria!” As she spoke, her sobs gave way to an anger and frustration that was almost two decades in the making. “Eighteen years Blue! No phone, no letter no buck all, and now I get this!”

“The letter wasn't from her.” Bluefeather sighed, trying to find an ‘in’ angle. While she understood Cyclone’s anger, she also understood that you only got one mother, and that mother, despite her failings, was trying to get in contact. “Maybe you should call the one that sent it, hmm?”

“Y-Yeah...” again, for the third time in the space of almost as many minutes, Cyclone reached for her phone the moment she was released from the feathery hug of her marefriend. “Hey, hang on...” she paused, her hoof touching her phone. “That letter was dated Thursday!”

Bluefeather processed that, ‘mom’ warring with ‘lover’ to see which side of her won for support of her young mare. “So, a lot could have changed over three days.”

“So, if Monsoon wanted to get in contact days ago, why isn’t she here already?” Cyclone asked, “You can get anywhere in Equestria in a day.”

“You going to call your photographer dad or not?” asked Bluefeather with a sigh that said she would do it soon if she didn’t.

“Yeah, sure...” with her phone in her hoof, Cyclone flipped through to her dad’s number. Her dad’s very seldom used number. “I hate her for this!” she exclaimed as she dialled Tropical Storm. She didn’t care it would be late where he was. “Luna damn it, eighteen years of nothing and now she wants to swan into our lives...” she grumbled, the dial tone not helping her mood.

“Less worry and more facts.”

Cyclone didn’t reply. “C'mon dad...answer it, will you‽”

“Cy?” Tropical Storm answered his phone on the seventh ring, just before it went to answer phone. The fifty year old stallion sounded as weary as he felt. “Where have you been?”

“Hey dad.” Cyclone replied, nonplussed at the less than cheery greeting. She was reminded again why she didn’t call very often. “I've been in Manehatten, catching up with Dusk and the old crowd. I just got back home, why?”

“I tried calling, I even went by your place.” Tropical Storm sighed, his pale blue hoof brushing his yellow mane out of his eyes. “I... Dragon Mailed you a letter, I take it you read it?”

“Yeah, yeah I read it. So what do we know, it just said she was ready to get in contact, that she was ‘working’ in Whinnyapolis and she had a prepaid train ticket to come home.”

Tropical Storm sighed and reached for his glasses. It was late and he was tired, but sleep was a long way off, thanks to recent events that had transpired. “I couldn't get a hold of you. Your work didn't know where you were, but enough of that. I was on my way to meet Monsoon when I sent the letter.”

“Right, so, how is Monsoon?” Cyclone asked through gritted teeth. The resentment she felt towards her mother, she didn’t want to give her the steam from a rice pudding, let alone the time of day.

Tropical Storm was dreading that question. He spent so long debating how to answer it that his daughter threatened to hang up. “Monsoon…your mother, she ah, she’s dead. It was an opium overdose. They found her body in a shed belonging to a motel she had been staying at. The stallion she was with has been charged in her death.”

“She...Monsoon...she what...” Cyclone’s anger evaporated in a microsecond. “M-Mommy...” when she saw Bluefeather’s confused questioning look, she put the speaker on. “Um, dad...say that again, what happened?”

“What part didn't you understand?” Tropical Storm sighed, not realising of course that the phone was no on speaker. “She was found dead in a motel shed. She’d been there a few days. It was opium overdose. I tried calling you.” He paused for breath, to marshal his thoughts.

“I stopped by your place on Thursday and when you weren’t there, I called Whinnyapolis, that is when the police told me they had arrested the stallion she was living with. He was a big time drug dealer. I'm having the body brought back to Canterlot. I wasn't going to bother with a viewing, just a burial on Tuesday. You can come if you like, but I can understand you not wanting to be there. She sort of abandoned us both.”

“No...I understood,” Cyclone shook her head. She understood just fine. It was believing she was having trouble with. ‘Mom, dead? She’s dead? As in, actually dead?’ “I ah, I just wanted Blue to hear it...my uh...my marefriend.”

“Oh,” Tropical Storm’s voice sounded considerably brighter at that. “So, are you still in Cloudsdale?”

“Yeah, listen I um...I wanna see her, dad, please?”

“Good, then, ah, she arrives at the Final Rest funeral home on Monday at three in the afternoon. Service will be Tuesday morning at nine at Canterlot Residential Cemetery.”

In a very low voice, having heard everything, Bluefeather whispered in her lover’s ear, “I can put Lance in charge, so I don't have to be back Monday.”

Cyclone was still struggling to process everything she had been told. Her brain was stuck on ‘mom’s dead’. “I'm...moving, to Cloudhatten, dad. To um...to live, with Bluefeather.” She covered the receiver of her phone with her hoof and looked to her marefriend. “I...hun I need you, right now.”

Bluefeather moved a little closer to Cyclone and her phone, her mind made up there and then. “We'll be there Monday and on Tuesday.”

The relief in Tropical Storm’s voice was palpable. “You're moving to Manehatten?”

“Yes dad. I'm transferring my job over there. My marefriend and I will be there for you Monday and Tuesday.”

“Okay, it’s just, maybe I can get a few gigs out that way and visit...” Tropical Storm started hesitantly, not knowing how to ask his next question. “Is it…okay, if I visit?”

While Cyclone was deliberating that, Bluefeather took the choice out of her lover’s hooves. “I'd be honoured if you were to visit. My home is in Cloudhatten.”

“Dad...” Cyclone relented with a little sigh, “of course you can visit, you don't need a reason, you're my dad.”

“I know but it is nice to hear it. I'll see you Monday then. The both of you.”

“Yeah, we'll see you soon daddy.” Cyclone said, hanging up her call and resting her phone down on the well-worn coffee table, hoping she wouldn’t need it again.

Bluefeather waited until Cyclone put her phone down before she reached for her own. “I’m just going to see what my number two thought he had planned.” Giggling, in order to lighten the somewhat sombre maudlin mood, she spoke once Lancer answered the call. “Good morning to you to Lance. You're pretty enough you don't need beauty sleep. I'm staying in Canterlot Monday and Tuesday so you have the helm… You can take that meeting and you know it… Sure, sure, I can do that. Okay, good bye.” Bluefeather was still giggling when she hung up.

“I do to take days off.” Bluefeather said confidently as she looked at Cyclone. “I do!” she squeaked when the black mare raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Honest, I really do. Maybe…”

Without warning, Cyclone tackle-hugged her marefriend as tight as she could. “Thank you Blue, thank you!”

“You are welcome, my love.” Bluefeather smiled a very motherly smile. “Now, you still have boxes to fill, but that is so the movers don't take a few moons to get them to us.” When an idea came to her, she released herself from the hug and got up from the couch that had seen better days. “I'll make us a late night snack and then we can watch some of those videos you call entertainment.”

In spite of her sudden down mood, Cyclone couldn’t help but giggle. Monsoon was one thing, but Buffy was a way of life. “You haven't lived until you've seen Buffy.” Reluctantly though, she went back over to the stack of paperwork and resumed packing.

“By the way,” Bluefeather looked over her shoulder, “I'm happy you packed that lovely black leather item. RawR!” with that, and a smile on her face, she headed off to the kitchen.

“That,” Cyclone said with a very prideful smile, “that is a genuine coat worn by the stallion that plays Spike the Vampony in the show. I have the certificate and everything. There was no way I was leaving that behind.”

Giggling, Bluefeather called out from the kitchen, “I can do other role play besides age play, you know!”

“Really?” Cyclone asked, pausing as she found an old family photo lodged in the papers she had been packing and set it down on the coffee table before scooting into the kitchen. “Cos I have a really sexy idea…” she purred, rearing up and hugging Bluefeather from behind.

“You're just full of sexy ideas. Do you need changing again?” Bluefeather giggled as she was preparing a mixed fruit salad. “I thought we could have this now and that gateaux for dessert.”

“Well, sexy ideas should be my job!” Cyclone giggled, for the moment putting her mother out of her mind. It just didn’t seem real, and if she didn’t think about it, then maybe it wasn’t true. “I do feel a little damp, but that's from looking at your flank.” She took a moment to admire the said flank. “And yeah, that sounds cool to eat.”

Smirking, Bluefeather wrapped her blue tail around Cyclone’s hind leg. “Packing, food, Buffy, then we can see what's next on the menu.” She tilted her head back to kiss her lover, “We’ve done the packing, now onto food.”

“Hmm...” Cyclone held the older mare in her forelegs and kissed her upturned lips. “That sounds like a plan.”

“I'll have this ready in a couple of minutes.”

Reluctantly Cyclone let go of her marefriend’s waist. While she really wanted – no, needed – to cuddle right now, she knew little would come from arguing or acting out. “Okay, then I'll go get the DVD ready. I've got the perfect 'entry' episode to tempt you with.”

At the kitchen worktop, hoof deep in prepping the fruit salad, Bluefeather giggled. “You said 'entry'.”

“I did, didn't I?” Cyclone smiled as she nibbled gently on Bluefeather’s neck. “Don't miss me, now.” Getting back to her hooves, the jet black mare trotted back through to the living room. Once there, Cyclone quickly had the DVD ready and waiting, especially as it was one she watched regularly. With a few seconds to spare, she even had herself laid as provocatively as she could manage on her couch that had seen better days.

Seconds later, and Bluefeather came out of the kitchen, carrying a loaded tray on her back that she set down on the coffee table. Two bowls of mixed summer fruit salad with some oats sprinkled liberally on top, and beers for them both to enjoy. “If you lay out like that, Crinkle Butt, you're going to leak.”

Playfully, Cyclone stuck out her tongue with a smile and a wink. “Are you ready for the best thing you'll ever see, besides me in a nappy, I mean?” She sat up, hoof poised on the remote control as Bluefeather arranged the food and drinks for them.

“I have my beer goggles ready!” the mid grey mare snuggled up next to her lover in such a way that she could still reach the food.

“Alrighty.” Cyclone pressed the remote to activate the TV of ancient times. “This episode is called 'Once More, With Feeling’. It is from season six, but it's a funny musical special that everypony loves.” After a moment of flickering, the TV from ancient times finally worked, and Cyclone snuggled deep into her lover’s side, turquoise tail wrapped around blue.

As the show started, Bluefeather watched, a little nonplussed as who she assumed to be the title character, Buffy, singing about going through the motions. She ate her salad and nursed her beer and, while she was watching she imagined what the actress would look like in a nappy. She was also watching Cyclone as much as she was the TV. She was aware her lover was still raw from the sad news she had received from her dad. “Ooh...I love this song, look Blue!” Cyclone pointed to the screen, where two mares, Willow and Tara, she thought they were called, were singing ‘Under Your Spell’.

Bluefeather took a decent slug of her beer. “Oh? Do I make you cum-plete?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Only when I feel you inside,” Cyclone giggled, “but yes, yes you do babes.”

Smiling, Bluefeather gave her young marefriend a light kiss as she returned to watching the show. To be honest she had no idea what was happening or why they were all singing. Something about a demon, that was as far as she got. “You see that stallion?” Cyclone asked, pointing to the TV as the stallion Bluefeather recognised as Spike started to sing ‘Rest In Peace’. “He's Spike the Vampony. That's his actual coat I've got…” she whispered, “don’t ask how much it was.”

“Are all of them this, aaaah, campy?” Bluefeather asked, giving her critique on the show she was watching.

Cyclone giggled, helping herself to some salad and her beer. “Well, kinda, yeah.” She kissed Bluefeather’s neck with a little flick of her tongue. “Don't let that bother you.”

Bluefeather snickered, “I got a theory, it must be bunnies!”

Cyclone snickered in response to that. “Anya's scared of bunnies,” she said, snuggling up real close to her marefriend when the whole cast started to sing 'Walk through the Fire’ and ‘Something to Sing About'. “These songs always make me cry,” she explained, making the older mare pause in her eating to hold her closer and nuzzle her ear.

“Hmmm....see...she died at the end of series five, but they resurrected her, and she feels out of place, so she needs something to sing about.” Cyclone had more than a few tears in her eyes, she hoped her lover would understand why.

“Sounds like Mare Grey,” Bluefeather commented thoughtfully, “she never seems to die either.”

When the DVD was all done, Cyclone turned it off with the remote as she really didn’t want to move. “Thanks, for watching that with me, sexy.” She said quietly, still snuggled up close and comfortable on her couch.

“Cheesy, but fun. Some interesting songs in there, but mostly it was cheesy fun.”

“Yeah.” Cyclone smiled, “in a few episodes time, Spike and Buffy have some really angry sex. So angry they demolish a house around them.”

Bluefeather gave her lover a pointed look. “I'm not having angry sex.”

Cyclone giggled. “It doesn't suit you, and I'm not demolishing this place. The owner would have a fit.” With that, she finished up her salad and beer and she went in for a deeper kiss. Allowing the kiss, Bluefeather laid Cyclone back on the couch that had seen better days.

Smirking, Bluefeather spread herself out on top of the younger pegasus. “I seem to have the advantage, hmm?”

Underneath her marefriend, Cyclone looked up with her very best half-lidded bedroom eyes. “Hmm, just the way I like it…Mmmph!” Bluefeather silenced her lover with a well placed deep kiss, sliding her tongue into her mouth as she used a hoof to play with her black wings. “Aaaah...” Cyclone moaned, arching her back underneath her.

Wrapping her forelegs around Bluefeather’s shoulders as her wings fluttered from the stimulus of her hooves, Cyclone moaned happily as the older mare planted soft little kisses all over her face and neck, nibbling and nipping her ears. “Mmm...B-Blue... Blue I want you!” Cyclone gasped, loving where the hoof was that was still playing with her wing.

“What will you do with me?” Bluefeather asked, her eyes half-lidded as Cyclone kissed her lips and cheek.

“I want you to take me, make me complete!” Cyclone begged, delivering soft little kisses along her partner’s neck.

“I can't make you anything,” Bluefeather said as gently and as lovingly as she could, “but I can help you achieve what you desire.” Smiling, she kissed her nose. “I will take you now. All of you, as you are.”

Spreading her hind legs, Cyclone kissed Bluefeather’s lips. “I love you.”

“First things first. Getting you undressed.” Bluefeather smiled, moving slowly down her young lover’s body she proceeded to remove the nappy with her teeth.

“Yeah...” she smiled, “we don't want a repeat of earlier on the train, do we?”

Bluefeather just giggled as she slowly pulled of the nappy, discarding it onto the coffee table. “I'm sure that will be repeated, my love.”

Smiling, Cyclone wriggled her way out of the nappy. “I’m sure it will sexy,” she said, just as Bluefeather moved her head and sniffed to see if her mare was only wet with excitement. “I haven't peed, I promise, hun.”

“No need to promise, my love. After this long I do have a nose for it.” Bluefeather grinned as Cyclone moved to her side, allowing her older lover to lick under her tail. “Hmm, clean under here.” She asserted, before rolling her back onto her back and delivering a long slow lick between her legs. “Clean here, too.”

“Mmm...aaah y-yeeeah that's clean!” Cyclone moaned, Bluefeather though kept one hoof pressed between her lover’s butt cheeks while the other played with her nipples, alternating from one to the other. “Ooh...oooh B-Bluuue!” Cyclone’s marehood was leaking, her hind legs were quivering. “J-Just there!”

Bluefeather didn't respond verbally, instead she pushed the toe of her hoof against Cyclone’s anal ring and, as she pulled at her nipples, she pushed a little harder the toe, probing the muscular sphincter. The jet black mare arched her back with the pleasure, particularly that against her anal ring. “Ooh...oooh d-do that...please!”

“That?” Bluefeather giggled and sat up. “I'm doing a lot of ‘that’s’.”

“Aah...aah I like your h-hoof...against my ass!” Cyclone moaned, just as Bluefeather returned to give Cyclone another lick. Then, she used her forelegs to roll her mare’s hind legs up and over her belly. That done, she moved down to liberate her puckered tail hole with her hot wet tongue. “YaaAAaa...yeees! Oooh I like that!”

Bluefeather spread Cyclone’s ass cheeks wide as she lapped the area just below the dock of her turquoise tail. “HmmMmm...” she purred in sheer pleasure, using her forehooves to hold her hind legs up high, her marehood leaking like a faucet as her lover licked her.

As well as her tongue, Bluefeather used the toe of her hoof to delve into the black mare’s tail hole, earning herself a “OOooOOH yes!” as Cyclone’s rump twitched and her muscular ring expanded easily to allow the entry.

“So, my dirty little filly likes anal, hmm?” It was a very rhetorical question, seeing as Cyclone was panting like she was in heat with the toe of her hoof buried in her accommodating asshole.

“Y-Yeees ma'am!” Cyclone confirmed, unnecessarily, seeing as the toe of her lover’s hoof was in her butt.

“You have toys?”

Quickly, Cyclone nodded, “Up-upstairs in the not-nursery bedroom, bottom drawer of the nightstand.”

“Stay there holding your legs.” Bluefeather ordered, giving Cyclone one more lick from her gaping tail hole straight up to her clitoris once she had removed her hoof. Sliding off of the couch, she trotted quickly up the stairs to the second, smaller bedroom, in search of adult toys to have fun with.

Cyclone whimpered on her back on her couch, holding her legs up high, her hind hooves almost behind her head. She was told not to move, and she wasn’t going to.

“My, my, my…” Bluefeather was impressed, very much impressed when she saw what Cyclone had in her toy drawer. There were; a string of five anal beads in increasing sizes, a butt plug tapered to a two inch base, large and small vibrators, an inflatable butt plug, strawberry and cherry lube and even a set of four hoof cuffs. “What a resourceful filly I have.”

Smiling, very lewd thoughts running through her head, Bluefeather took the hoof cuffs, both butt plugs, both vibrators, and the cherry lube. She sang on the way down the stairs. “We’re going to party tonight!”

On the couch that had seen better days, Cyclone was still holding her hind legs up, like a good filly. “Oh, all night long, sexy!”

Bluefeather approached, stalking across the living room like a tiger stalking her prey. She just adored the way Cyclone’s hind legs were almost behind her head like that, like a sexy pretzel. “Well, I do need my beauty sleep, but I'll see if I can put you out like a light…” she bent down and kissed her lips, “You're a good filly and you deserve a treat.”

Returning the deep kiss, Cyclone smiled up at her lover. “I'm a very good filly ma'am!” she squeaked, while Bluefeather moved her body in such a way as to block her sight as she squirted a liberal amount of cherry lube into her flexing tail hole and she used her tongue to apply it deep inside. “OooOH...”

As Cyclone moaned and wriggled with the cold lube in her hole, Bluefeather selected the smaller pink butt plug and, firmly pushing it inside, she rotated the base with her hoof. “Now,” she smiled, stroking the quivering mare’s legs, “let me help you with that.” Still smiling, she firmly cuffed Cyclone’s forelegs and hind legs together so that she no longer had to hold them up. “Do try not to roll off the couch.”

“Hmm...y-you found my old cuffs, huh?” Cyclone smiled, though all she could focus on was the plug buried in her asshole. ‘Oooh that feels so full in my butt!’

Bluefeather giggled, “I take it it’s been awhile?”

Cyclone nodded, “It has, since somepony else put them on me, anyway.”

Moving out of Cyclone’s sight again, Bluefeather this time took up the small vibrator and, turning it on, she pressed it against the base of the butt plug. The effects were immediate. “Oooh Blue! Yeeees!” she wriggled her black ass with the vibrations coursing through her as Bluefeather took the larger vibrator in her mouth, leaving it turned off, using it to tease her lover’s glistening labia.

“AaaAAH...m-ma-maaa'am...” Cyclone cooed, her marehood winking at Bluefeather as she teased her.

Smirking, Bluefeather turned on the vibrator while at the same time she used her other hoof to move it around, she alternated using her tongue on Cyclone’s love button and her breasts. “Mmm...Mmmm...AAAH!” the black pegasus trembled and quivered, her legs and crotch shaking with the pleasurable vibrations running through her body.

Delicately, the older mare nibbled and licked Cyclone’s hard nub as one hoof pressed against the plug with the small vibrator held in between which she could feel running up her leg. The other hoof allowed her to push out the large vibrator only to push it back in, effectively rutting her with it.

“GAAaaaAAH!” Cyclone screamed in sheer pleasure from all the stimulus, the vibrating butt plug and the vibrator rutting her sopping pussy doing the trick to get her off. Desperately, she tried to buck her hips upwards, but she struggled somewhat against the cuffs holding her legs up. “AaaAAH Blue I'm soooo clooose!”

A devilish smile spread wide over Bluefeather’s face as she hoofed the little vibrator away and pulled the other one out of her lover’s puffy dripping snatch. “Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that…”

Cyclone, who could almost hear the smile in her lover’s words, gave her a very loud pitiful whimper. “Blue I was so close! C'moooon, finish me off pleeeeease!” Laughing out loud, Bluefeather switched vibrators. The large one was now pressed fully against the base of the plug in her asshole while she slipped the small one under her clitoral hood and her tongue searched the wet tunnel in the middle.

That did it.

Cyclone couldn’t hold any longer.

“OOOOH SWEEEET LUUUNA!” Cyclone’s screams filled the living room of her cloud house as a couple of seconds later she came, and she came hard, all four legs shaking as she squirts a little, cumming harder than she had in a very long time.

At her crotch, Bluefeather was only too eager to lap it up, every last drop. Eventually, after two more orgasms, she set down the vibrators and she eased out the plug. She did have to admit she loved the way Cyclone’s asshole gaped like it did. A moment later, the mid grey mare then took the inflatable butt plug and, with no resistance at all, inserted it into the slowly closing hole.

Several squeezes of the pump later had the plug well inflated, to the point where Cyclone was groaning and it wasn’t coming out, at all. “There, that should hold back any messes, hmm?” Smirking, Bluefeather retrieved the still clean nappy from the coffee table and, after carefully placing the small vibrator to sit under Cyclone’s tail, she fastened the tabs securely around her waist. “I think that will do, for now.”

Cyclone wriggled in her bindings, squirming as the vibrator worked against the inflatable plug. “MMmmm...aah...ah...y-you're evil!”

“Mwahahahaha!” Bluefeather chuckled dramatically as she looked down at her ‘victim’. “You know, I know a pony that gets around just fine cuffed like you are now.”

Cyclone giggled, trying to ignore the vibrations in her tail, “s-so do I...I met h-her Thursday at the party.”

“I thought you'd know her since you’re friends with Airy.” Bluefeather said thoughtfully as she helped Cyclone up to her securely cuffed hooves. “You may use your wings, but only for balance. Now, I'm all for that chocolate dessert.”

“You evil pony!” Cyclone pouted playfully, just managing to balance on her hooves, “but I do love you.” With that, as Bluefeather took up the tray with the empty fruit salad bowls on it, the jet black mare began an ungainly bunny hop to the kitchen. “Nggh...Mmm!” she grunted as she reached the kitchen and the fridge. “Y'know...I bet Darkie can do this better than I can,” she giggled, opening the fridge with her wing.

“Why's that?”

“Darkie's a dancer,” Cyclone smiled and, taking out the chocolate dessert, she held the plate in her mouth, grinning as she started a slow and careful bunny hop back to the living room, once or twice having to use her wings for balance. Smirking, Bluefeather grabbed one spoon and followed her out. After a few moments, and some bounces, Cyclone made it to the coffee table and carefully set the gateaux down.

“You can keep standing. I'll feed you.”

“Yes ma'am.”

Bluefeather scooped up some of the dessert on the one spoon she had bought from the kitchen. “Open the tunnel so Gordon doesn't crash!” she cried, moving the loaded spoon towards Cyclone’s wide open mouth. She placed it inside and allowed her to close and clean it off.

“Nom!” Cyclone sucked the spoon clean and Bluefeather followed it up with a spoonful for herself. The jet black mare giggled, “so...this was the 'other' roleplay you were taking about?”

“Oh no,” Bluefeather shook her head, “this is still age play with me using the spoon like a choo choo!” she giggled, “You have to see Tempest dress up, she really gets into her role. Now, I could put on that back coat of yours and have you hop about to the local bar and that would be one form of role play, Mistress and Slave.” All the time she was talking, she fed Cyclone and herself, “Then you can dress up in the coat and I can dress up as a vampony and you can stalk me in the park.”

“Oooh...Mistress and Slave sounds fun!” Cyclone smiled, “I'm so glad I met you, again.”

“It was a roundabout way to meet,” Bluefeather agreed, “How many years after you first met me?”

“Well...as I recall that expo in Las Pegasus was something like four years ago?” Cyclone answered, ignoring the pleasurable vibrations in her ass as she looked down to the floor, melancholy threatening to return.

“Life happens and it happened to bring you to me.” Bluefeather said gently as she raised up her lover’s chin with her hoof. “Nothing to be ashamed of. Choo choo!” she smiled, another spoonful inbound to her mouth. Cyclone quickly perked up and opened her mouth as again, Bluefeather fed her and then herself.

“After all, if you really are a screw up I'll just have to fire you and find a job for you that doesn't violate the child labour laws, won’t I?” she asked with a smile.

Cyclone swallowed her mouthful of chocolate dessert and giggled. “You’ll have to talk to daddy, every few months he rings me up wanting me to work for him.”

At that, Bluefeather looked her over with a critical eye. “With that fur colour you do stand out against any backdrop.” She giggled, “Do you want a mare that is eighteen and looks thirteen or one that is thirteen and looks eighteen? I'd most likely kill those who want the latter.”

“The first option is definitely more preferable,” Cyclone agreed with a giggle. “I've always turned dad down, doesn't stop him asking every chance he gets though.”

Bluefeather kissed her marefriend very deeply, very aroused at the thought of seeing her lover in the glossy pages of Playcolt. “You'd certainly sell magazines. I'd bet he'd first want to do a retro spread of what you have framed on the wall. Choo choo!” she called out, and Cyclone opened her mouth with a faint wiggle as the toy in her was working away. “Do you have nappy rash?”

“No!” Cyclone swallowed her mouthful of dessert, “No, I have a tickle I can't reach!”

Thoughtfully, Bluefeather took a spoonful and mulled a thought over in her head. “Is that why he is hesitant to visit you?”

“One of the reasons, yes. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered it once or twice.” Cyclone admitted, “That's what I thought the letter was when I opened it.”

“Choo choo!” while the wriggling and squirming black mare was taking the dessert off of the spoon, she asked, “One of the reasons?”

“I blamed him, for the divorce.” Cyclone explained. “With Monsoon...I mean, mommy...gone, dad was the one I yelled at.”

“Cy, can I ask you a very personal and difficult question which you don't have to answer?”

“Go for it.”

Bluefeather took a deep breath, “Monsoon was just twenty four when you were born?”

Cyclone nodded, “yep, she was.”

Again, Bluefeather took a deep breath, to gather herself for what she was about to ask. “Did your parents plan to have you?”

“Um...no. No they didn't.”

“At least she was there for six years.” Bluefeather said, hugging her marefriend tightly without toppling her over as she was still bound up by her hooves, “In case you are thinking it, I have ended my relationships with an adult foal. It hasn't always been the other way.”

“Oh...Monsoon always let it be known that I was her accident.” Cyclone said as she nuzzled her lover, “And um...I wasn't thinking of ending it with you, Blue.”

“I didn't think you were, but...” and now, Bluefeather grew very serious, “It was close on the train coming here. I can do very well with ignorant foals, but I don't do so well with stupid adults.” She said, kissing her nose.

“I-I know hun, I know how close it was, and um, well, I'm glad you're here with me.”

“I just...” Bluefeather sighed, “I don't want you to think I'll be like your mom, but...I can't say I'll never end this. Life happens. When the foal ends it for any reason, I'm good as it is life. When I end it there will be a warning, but seldom do I give a second.” Smiling, she placed a second kiss on Cyclone’s nose. “Be yourself and I think we will live a long and happy life together.”

Cyclone returned the kiss, finding her lover’s lips with her own. “Blue, you're nothing like Monsoon. I get life happens.” She thought for a moment, “to be honest, before I went to Manehatten on Thursday, I was kinda tempted, y'know, on giving dad a call...um, taking him up on his offer to work with him.”

“Will you let me watch?” Bluefeather asked, managing to keep a straight face and her wings down.

“Huh?” Cyclone asked, slightly open mouthed, “y-you'd be ok with it, really?”

Oh, Bluefeather was okay with it alright. The voyeur in her was more than okay with watching her marefriend perform and be photographed. That part of her was fine with the rest of Equestria buying videos and watching her getting rutted by unknown stallions. “Will you still live with me? To be truthful, I do not want to move.”

“Of course I will babes!” Cyclone squeaked, unlike her lover, she was unable to keep her wings down. “No question about that!”

“Then, I think your dad is going to build up some frequent train miles.” She kissed her deeply, “Or maybe you will.”

“I love you so much!”

“That framed picture of you in the nappy is still going in my office.” Bluefeather smiled, loving the way Cyclone bounced and jiggled thanks to the toy buzzing in her nappy. “Your dad will have to get an updated one for the house.” She nuzzled her affectionately, “I love you too, you fill a part of my life that loves to nurture, and the part that burns with desire.”

Nuzzle over, Bluefeather pulled her lover into a hug and she lowered her gently down to the couch. “Ready to get out of the cuffs?”

“Yes ma'am.”

Deftly, Bluefeather unclipped and unbuckled the four hoof cuffs. “You may now wrap me up in a hug.” She said once Cyclone was freed.

“Mmm...such a commanding pony you are…” Cyclone purred, loving the very full feeling of the butt plug still inflated in her asshole, she duly wrapped her older marefriend up in a four legged hug. “I like it.”

Bluefeather kissed and nipped at her neck. “I'm loving it.”

“Me too…” Cyclone smiled, kissing her commanding mare’s lips.

“So, here we are in Cloudsdale and it is nearly midnight,” Bluefeather started, “What should we do for fun?”

Cyclone had an answer ready almost before the question had been asked. “I seem to recall a certain hot mare saying she'd wear my coat and lead me around the bar. There's a Trixie’s Place not far from here that's pretty easy going.”

That satisfied Bluefeather. She knew from Cloudhatten that Trixie’s Place was indeed an easy going place, a place catering to almost every kink and vice imaginable, as long as it was legal. “Well then, the cuffs go back on, but not bound together. Got any rope?”

“Second drawer down on the nightstand upstairs.” Cyclone replied, “There's a couple of different lengths and colours.”

“Don't sneak out of the house,” Bluefeather grinned wryly as she turned to the stairs, “and don't eat the rest of the dessert.”