The Mouth of Anonymous 1: Garden Arc


                                            >The model pony struts slowly and deliberately through the double doors of Mayor Mare's office.

                                            "Madame Mayor, my Master sends his regards." she coos in an almost sing-song voice.

                                            >"Ah, yes. I received his, um, communique." the mayor says, her smile rather forced.

                                            "You know, my Master has taken a special interest in this project from its conception." Fleur continues. "And as with all his personal projects, he likes to check daily on its progress."

                                            >Long, delicate legs carry her closer to the tan mare as she speaks.

                                            >Her movements are so practiced, so drilled into her that it is almost as if she is floating.

                                            >The bounce in her step is long gone.

                                            "I remember how he worked with me." she says in hushed tones, now circling the Mayor's desk.

                                            >Her eyes become lidded as she steps in close.

                                            "Every day he worked with me, to correct my errors. To build a new, better Fleur de Lis."

                                            >Narrowing the gap to mere inches, she draws her breath.

                                            "Every."

                                            >A manicured hoof grabs a beige arm.

                                            "Single."

                                            >Mirror the motion.

                                            "Day."

                                            >In a surprising feat of strength, the delicate model pulls Mayor Mare from her seat and throws her onto the ground before her.

                                            "And this project, this grand garden commemorating the submission of the Elements of Harmony to his perfect will, it has received the same attention."

                                            >Beads of sweat begin to collect on the mayor's face as she looks up from the ground.

                                            >"Please, tell him we have-"

                                            "No."

                                            >"W-what?"

                                            "No." Fleur repeats. "My Master has observed your 'progress' through his many eyes throughout the kingdom. The delaying, the stalling, the hoof-dragging."

                                            >She motions for Mayor Mare to rise.

                                            "He is aware of this town's reluctance to embrace the Midnight Queen."

                                            >"B-but I have sent reports-"

                                            >A white hoof to the face cuts the Mayor short.

                                            "Lord Anonymous is unimpressed with your facade, useless whorse."

                                            >With improbable gravity, a dainty white leg holds the mare to the floor by her gray mane.

                                            >From the floor, Mayor Mare appreciates that the ornate shoes the Envoy wears are in fact locked onto her hooves.

                                            >The thought sends a chill down her spine.

                                            "He has sent me to fetch you, that you may learn from your errors."

                                            >The prostrate mare's head jerks around to meet Fleur's gaze, painfully pulling on her still held mane.

                                            >"N-no...no! Please, we'll redouble our efforts! We can-" she stammers, her eyes dilating incredibly.

                                            "There is no 'we' Mayor Mare. My Master is expecting you in his chambers this evening."

                                            >As if on cue, the panicked pony hears the clinking of plate armor enter the room.

                                            >She opens her mouth to beg, but Fleur snuffs out any hope for mercy with a swift hoof to the face.

                                            >Collapsing, the hapless Mayor begins to sob as two guards round either side of the desk, each bearing a set of manacles.


                                            >Roseluck exited the market and headed for Town Hall.

                                            >She had a meeting with Mayor Mare, to help come up with ideas for why it was taking her and her sisters so long to start the gardens around that awful monument.

                                            >"Stupid Ape." she mumbled, approaching the steps. "Everything was fine before he showed up."

                                            >Just as she raised her hoof towards the first step, the doors flew open.

                                            >Two Lunar Guards stood to either side, while two more escorted...

                                            >"No." she whispered under her breath.

                                            >Mayor Mare, bound in chains, tears streaming down her face, one eye swollen and black, was dragged out into the square.

                                            >Galloping hooves drew Roseluck's attention to a just-landed chariot of sorts.

                                            >More like a carriage that happened to be pulled by pegasi.

                                            >The guards pushed Mayor Mare inside, and sat to either side of their charge.

                                            "You are Roseluck, of the Flower Family, are you not?"

                                            >Roseluck nearly jumped out of her coat at the sudden voice.

                                            >Spinning around, her eyes met Fleur's.

                                            >"I, um, I...yes."

                                            "You are to halt all work on the Submission Garden until further notice."

                                            >"Oh, yes. Erm, of course."

                                            "I would advise you to take care of any personal business you may have, and be ready to work hard next week." the lithe pony advised, as she stepped to the door of the carriage.

                                            >Roseluck simply stared at her, uncomprehending.

                                            "After all," Fleur continued, stepping inside. "Lord Anonymous arrives in eight days."


                                            ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------


                                            >Fleur lay silently on the bed as she watched her Master.

                                            >It was the only way she could get off anymore, watching him work.

                                            >She was glad he was pleased with her. He had granted her permission not only to touch herself, but to finish!

                                            >He was very happy with her.

                                            >Now she lay stretched out upon her circular bed, in a room full of dungeon furniture, carefully positioned so she could watch any scene her Master allowed her.

                                            >This was the greatest joy she knew.

                                            >Watching her Master bring problem ponies to heel.

                                            >Reveling in their mixed pain and pleasure.

                                            >Silently working herself to orgasm to the screams of Ponyville’s mayor.

                                            >Fleur had heard rumors that Mayor Mare was a bit of a cougar.

                                            >But she now found that hard to believe.

                                            >Most cougars are limber and flexible.

                                            >Mayor Mare is not.

                                            >Anonymous, of course, had taken full advantage of that fact.

                                            >Fleur had to admit, such a position would be hard for a young mare like herself.

                                            >She imagined it would be pure agony for someone out of shape.

                                            >If the pleading was any indication, she was correct.

                                            >Fleur continued to edge herself.

                                            >She was only allowed one, she wanted it to be good.

                                            >Her Master had taken a different approach with the aging whore in front of him.

                                            >For every new joint-rending position she was forced to orgasm.

                                            >She was forced to correlate pain with pleasure.

                                            >And this one…this one promised to be perfect.

                                            >Her hoof moves faster as the Mayor’s voice rises in pitch and volume.

                                            >Building to a crescendo…

                                            >Mmmm! Yesss…yes…!!!

                                            >Fleur comes down gently as the Mayor’s screams turn into quiet weeping.

                                            >Her Master turns to her, and strokes her mane affectionately a few times.

                                            “I’ll see you tonight, Fleur. You have made me very happy. Finally this project will gain some traction.”

                                            >Fleur smiles brightly.

                                            >She was wrong, /this/ is the greatest joy she knew.

                                            >Seeing him smile at her, knowing he appreciated her.

                                            >Maybe he showed it a little differently than a normal stallion.

                                            >But he was still the first to show he cared about her at all.

                                            >As he left, carrying the broken Mayor over his shoulder, she couldn’t help but beam.

                                            >She had pleased her Master, and all was right in her world.


                                            -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


                                            >The carriage came to a stop in front of Town Hall.

                                            >A set of dainty white hooves in intricate gold shoes touched down on the cobblestones.

                                            >Ah, Ponyville. So quaint.

                                            >Fleur always found something charming about the place, like a village lost in time.

                                            >And she always appreciated their rebellious spirit, their resilience had entertained her on many a night.

                                            >No time for that today, work to do before her Master arrived.

                                            >Behind her carriage, a train of heavy carts pulled by draft teams rolled into the square.

                                            >The foreman began directing them towards the memorial square.

                                            >Not her concern.

                                            >Drifting across the square, Fleur headed down a side street, followed by a squad of guards.

                                            > She came to a stop before the Flower Sisters’ shop.

                                            >It was closed.

                                            >It was still early, especially for a Sunday.

                                            >But no door was closed to the Crown.

                                            >She tried the door, as there was a time when Ponyville was a more open place.

                                            >No dice.

                                            >Stepping aside, one of the guards steps forward and levitates a skeleton from his bags.

                                            >A few quiet clicks later, the door swings silently open.

                                            >The guard moved out of the doorway and she stepped inside.

                                            >Outside the shop, the guards took up positions.

                                            >The sweet aroma of the florist’s shop delighted her nose as she perused the displays.

                                            >Upstairs she could hear the sisters going about their day.

                                            >She could wait.


                                            >Lily was not looking forward to this week.

                                            >That awful beast Anonymous was arriving tomorrow and she had to build a garden for him with her sisters.

                                            >Everypony knew they were the best at what they did, nopony could create a better landscape than them.

                                            >But Anonymous knew this as well.

                                            >So now they had to create what might be the largest, most ornate work-possibly their Magnum Opus-for a monument celebrating the subjugation of their town.

                                            >No, not just their town…their country.

                                            >A grim reminder that the six mares sent to fight Nightmare Moon had failed, now all slaves to Anonymous himself.

                                            >Stomping bitterly down the stairs, Lily went to the back storeroom to grab some change for their register, and then walked out to the front to open the store.

                                            >She made it all the way to the door before a voice stopped her.

                                            “It would be better if you left that closed a little longer.”

                                            >Slowly the pink mare turned around.

                                            >Standing next to the display of white lilies was the waifish messenger of the Beast himself.

                                            >”Miss Fleur, you surprised me.” She said, trying to mask her irritation.

                                            >How did she get in here anyways? The store was still closed…wait a minute…

                                            “Will your sisters be coming down shortly?”

                                            >That serene voice was incredibly jarring somehow.

                                            >”Yes, well. I mean, I thought that Rose was already down here, but I don’t know where she went. Daisy was never a morning mare, she’ll be down in a bit.”

                                            “Oh good.” Fleur cooed, stepping towards her. “We have much to discuss.”

                                            >Without saying anything else, Fleur strode around the counter and headed into the back of the shop.

                                            >“H-hey! Miss Fleur! That’s for employees only!” Lily called, trotting after her.

                                            “Nonsense, Lily. It will be fine, I am simply passing through on the way to your greenhouses!” Fleur giggled.

                                            >Hoofsteps on the stairs alerted them to the presence of another pony.

                                            >”Heya sis, who’s here?” a voice called.

                                            >”Fleur de Lis” Lily replied flatly. “Here about the gardens. Have you seen Rose?”

                                            >”Oh, right, the gardens.” Daisy called back, hurrying to join them. “And no, she’s usually first up. Why?”

                                            >”I thought she came down to open up, must’ve gone to run an errand.”

                                            “Well, let us continue. It is excellent to have both of you here. Most of the statues have arrived, and we have a placeholder piece until the centerpiece is installed.” Fleur said, opening the back door and gesturing outside.

                                            >The sisters reluctantly followed the now humming envoy.

                                            >Walking through the greenhouses behind their shop, the duo walked Fleur through their selections for the flower beds and the ornamental urns. They discussed potential delays, but assured her that there would be no additional cost.

                                            >They had both heard about the first sculptor chosen for this job.

                                            >As the morning sun climbed higher, Fleur led them into the shed erected by their greenhouses to store materials for this project. Inside stood a rather tall something covered in a clichéd white sheet.

                                            “Now, my Master has instructed me to inform you that this shall sit upon the dais until the gardens are finished, inspected and deemed worthy by him personally.” Fleur said, smiling sweetly.

                                            >The sisters nodded, and, with a tug of magic, the white sheet was lifted to reveal…

                                            >“ROSE!” the sisters shouted in unison.

                                            >Nodding in her magical sleep, the third sister was splayed before them on a deep red saltire cross, her namesake adorning her restraints.

                                            “Beautiful, isn’t she?” Fleur mused, as the sisters stared on in horror. “She will be mounted where the centerpiece will go.”

                                            >”You- you monster!” Lily screamed, as Daisy collapsed in tears. “How can you expect us t-mmph!“

                                            >The florist is silenced by a pink aura grabbing her muzzle.

                                            “Lily, Lily, Lily.” Fleur sighed. “Do. Not. Play. With. Me.”

                                            >The snow white mare accentuated each word with a jerk of Lily’s head.

                                            “My Master knows that Rose conspired to delay the construction with Mayor Mare, who has been personally… corrected by Lord Anonymous.”

                                            >Shifting her magical grip to Lily’s mane, she dragged the mare to the floor.

                                            “Your foolish sister is getting off lucky: you two can end her suffering as early as you please. You just have to finish the gardens up to my Master’s specifications, as originally planned.”

                                            >Releasing the abused flower pony, Fleur stepped to the door as her guards entered.

                                            “Clean yourselves up and get to work. Your sister will awaken soon to find herself a part of the memorial. How will she feel if you two aren’t working your hardest to earn her freedom when she does?”


                                            ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


                                            >Fleur watched as her Master directed placement of the statues on their pedestals.

                                            >Sitting on the ground at his side was the Mayor.

                                            >Fleur smiled as she saw the mare’s eyes dart to and fro, wondering who could see her.

                                            >The muzzle Master had strapped on the mayor’s face allowed for many attachments.

                                            >Currently a small round tray protruded from the end of it, holding a tall glass that Lord Anonymous casually drank from.

                                            >The Flower Sisters were nearby, well, two of them were.

                                            >Roseluck having been dealt with separately, punished for her collaboration with Mayor Mare.

                                            >The politician had oozed information when proper pressure was applied.

                                            >Master was most pleased.

                                            >Set upon the dais, the treacherous mare spend most of her day quietly weeping.

                                            >She would be released when the gardens around the memorial were finished.

                                            >It was better than she deserved.

                                            >So now Fleur watched the remaining two sisters work feverishly to complete their work.

                                            >”Miss Fleur, you wished to see us?” a nervous female voice asked, interrupting her inner monologue.

                                            “Ah yes, Misses Cake, I am glad you came. I am to oversee the reception for the unveiling. The crown shall need a cake, as well as a dessert table.”

                                            >”Oh, of course!” Mrs. Cake smiled. “It’s what we do best! When do ya need it by?”

                                            “I believe the latest timetable Lily gave me was two more days. So in three days.”

                                            >”Oh dear. That doesn’t leave us much time.” She replied nervously. “Do you have a design in mind for the cake?”

                                            “I do not, however if I am not mistaken, a consultant will be arriving from Canterlot Castle this afternoon. She will commandeer your kitchen, but I am confident you will find her agreeable.” Fleur explained with a smile.

                                            >“Well, if you say so.” she chuckled nervously. “What do you need us to do then?”

                                            “You are to assist her in any way she needs. I would stock up on supplies; she has a reputation for producing prolific spreads of food.” Fleur elaborated, waving a hoof and slowly circling Mrs. Cake. “Also, let me assure you that Lord Anonymous will compensate you well, but do not think about undermining this event.”

                                            >Stepping beside Mrs. Cake, Fleur dipped her head down to lean in close enough that only she would hear.

                                            “Unless you are seeking a free stay in the Master’s chambers, like the Mayor?” the white mare asked, cocking an artfully plucked eyebrow and gesturing with a long, pristine leg.

                                            >”N-n-no.” the baker whispered shakily, eyes locked on the once proud politician.

                                            “Are you sure? He has a reputation for creativity.”

                                            >”Please, no. I-I should get to work-“

                                            “Very well.” Fleur cooed “I will send the mare to you when she arrives.”

                                            >”Well  alrighty then. I’ll be at Sugarcube Corner…” Mrs. Cake answers, backing away.

                                            “Oh, I would suggest you start shopping now, it would be a shame if you couldn’t finish everything because you were missing something. Lord Anonymous would be /most/ disappointed.” Fleur said, staring straight into her eyes.

                                            >The baker glances briefly at the mayor, sitting at Anonymous’s side, and nods furiously before taking off at a speed surprising for a mother of two.


                                            >A bell chimes as a lithe white pony steps into the confectionary.

                                            >”Be right out!” a voice calls from the kitchen. “How can I help…you.”

                                            >The two-tone mares face falls as soon as she sets eyes on Fleur.

                                            “I am here to follow-up on the order sent to you last week.” The white mare continues, unfazed.

                                            >”I’m sorry, I don’t think-“

                                            “No, you received it.” Fleur cuts her off. “Lord Anonymous’s sources reported that you were quite upset about having to cater ‘that ape’s garden party’ or something to that effect.”

                                            >”I-I don’t…You must be…”

                                            “No Bon-Bon. I am not mistaken.” Fleur states, leaning over the counter, nose to nose with the candymare. “You will take me back into the kitchen now.”

                                            >Bon-Bon simply nods silently and lifts the counter, allowing Fleur to float past her.

                                            >Why can’t these ponies accept her Master?

                                            >They will have to learn as she did. One blow at a time, until it hurts to move.

                                            >Hasn’t this mare seen the Mayor? Or Roseluck?

                                            >Looking around, Fleur sees many candies, but only a few of what was ordered.

                                            “Now Bonbon, I see very little of Lord Anonymous’s order completed.” She asks, turning to her escort.

                                            >“I, um, well-“she stammers. She is starting to sweat.

                                            >Fleur steps in close, then with a swipe knocks Bonbon’s forehooves out from under her.

                                            “You never started. I know you didn’t. /He/ knows you didn’t.” she says, sampling some melted chocolate from a bowl. “That is the true reason I am here. You stupid, stupid mare.”

                                            >lifting the bowl with her magic, Fleur dumps the liquid chocolate across Bonbon’s back.

                                            >The mare cries out, but it’s not hot enough to truly burn her.

                                            >Just hurt and humiliate.

                                            “You could have been taken care of, expanded your business. Lord Anonymous takes care of those who serve him well. But you resented him, mocked him, threw a tantrum like a foal.”

                                            >Just as Bonbon rises to her hooves, Fleur overturns a bowl of marshmallow fluff on her head.

                                            “So now My Master wishes to return the favor.” Fleur continues, dumping bowls of mousse and whipped cream into a pile on the floor. “But he is generous, so he returns the favor and more!”

                                            >Before Bonbon can clear her eyes of the sticky fluff, she’s pushed to the ground and held there, writhing in what was once a delectable chocolate-hazelnut mousse.

                                            >Fleur opens a nearby window with her magic and shoots a stream of pink sparks outside.

                                            >A moment later, four lunar guards enter the kitchen. Two pull the crying and struggling Bonbon upright, while the other two present another prisoner…

                                            “Bonbon, I believe you know Lyra.”

                                            >The confectioner suddenly snaps to attention, pawing the last of the fluff from her vision.

                                            >Lyra stands before her, in manacles, and with her mouth held shut by a muzzle. She simply stares tearfully back at Bonbon.

                                            >”You…YOU WHORSE! Let her go!” Bonbon shouts, struggling with all her might.

                                            >With no traction on the chocolate-covered floor and two guards holding her fast, she makes no progress. Fleur simply waits until she has tired herself out, enduring the many epithets and promises of vengeance the candy maker spews.

                                            >Once she settles down into quiet weeping, Fleur reaches out a hoof.

                                            >Lifting Bonbon’s chin, she addresses Bonbon as a guard hands her an envelope.

                                            “This, Bonbon, is a copy of the order that was sent to you last week.” She says, laying it on a clean spot on the counter. “My Master is offering you a second chance. You have three days until the reception. Either he has a complete sweets table, or-“ Fleur turns BonBon’s  gaze to Lyra “he will have Equestria’s first living chocolate fountain. Choose wisely.”

                                            >Before Bonbon can respond, or even fathom the implications of the threat, Fleur spins on her hooves and picks her way daintily through the mess and out the back door, her guards and Lyra in tow.

                                            >Once outside, Fleur turns to Lyra and leans in close, whispering in the mint mare’s ear.

                                            [spoiler] “I do love chocolate fountains.”  [/spoiler]


                                            >Sitting in her carriage, Fleur takes time to familiarize herself with the nuances of the order.

                                            >The name of the shop, the owner, the exact details of the items ordered.

                                            “What an odd shop.” She muses. “But if it has what Master needs…”

                                            >As the wheels come to a halt, Fleur gracefully steps down onto the cobblestones.

                                            >She takes a moment to adjust her shoes and mane, then looks at the sign.

                                            “Sofas and Quills. There can’t possibly be another.”

                                            >Pushing the door open, the tinkling of a bell alerts the staff she has arrived.

                                            >”Be right there!” somepony calls from the back.

                                            >A moment later a brown earth pony with an equally brown slicked-back mane comes in.

                                            >”Hello ma’am, how can I help you today?”

                                            >Fleur eyes the stallion, then steps in close.

                                            “I was sent by Lord Anonymous.” She begins “I am to bring back his order.”

                                            >”Oh yes, do you have the payment?” he asks, looking her up and down.

                                            “Oh, I don’t, no. I’m just a messenger.”

                                            >”I see, well I was told-“

                                            “You seem like a nice stallion, I’m sure we can work something out?” she says, dropping her voice.

                                            >Walking away from him, Fleur moves to the counter.

                                            >Her tail moves in rhythm with her swaying hips, just barely teasing at what lies behind it.

                                            “May I see the order? I at least want to let my Master know it is ready.”

                                            >The stallion is too busy staring to respond.

                                            “Unless you have failed the crown,” Fleur asks, turning her head to address him. “Mister Davenport?”

                                            >“N-n-no!” Davenport stammers, his reverie broken. “I-uh, I’ll go get that.”

                                            >After the stallion disappears into the back room, Fleur giggles to herself and goes to the door.

                                            >Knocking lightly, a guard enters.

                                            >”I’ll be right with you! Just let me get this order for Miss Fleur de Lis!” the owner calls from in back.

                                            >Fleur giggles a little, and the guard rolls his eyes.

                                            >They’re no fun, these soldiers.

                                            >When he returns, he has two boxes with him, and a roll of parchment.

                                            >”Here they are, two golden quills.” He beams, opening the boxes on the counter.

                                            >The quills are exquisite.

                                            “Your skill is admirable. And shall be rewarded.” She responds.

                                            >”Thank you!” he beams. “And this parchment outlines the order for the chairs for the VIP section of the dedication…”

                                            “Excellent. I can see you haven’t disappointed.”

                                            >Leaning in, she kisses Davenport lightly on the cheek while levitating a sack of bits from the guard beside her.

                                            “This is yours.” She says, dropping the bag on the counter. “Just arrived.”

                                            >Turning to leave, Fleur swishes her tail just enough to give the flustered store owner a glimpse of the goods. At the door she pauses.

                                            “Oh, Davenport?”

                                            >”Yes, Miss Fleur?”

                                            “The thing about my Master’s pets is, you can look, but you can’t touch. He feels very strongly about this.”

                                            >”I understand.”

                                            “I would be careful, Mister Davenport. Lord Anonymous is the consort of Nightmare Moon after all, [spoiler]and I don’t know if dreams count.”[/spoiler]


                                            >Fleur sat perfectly poised on her seat.

                                            >Occasionally her ears twitched, chasing words that an errant breeze carried away.

                                            >Her Master stood at the podium, speaking about the glories Nightmare Moon had brought to Equestria.

                                            >The New Order, one where everypony had a place. Where mercy walked hoof-in-hoof with discipline, where lessons were taught so as never to be forgotten-a better, stronger Equestria.

                                            >As she listened to the strong and steady voice of her Master, Fleur couldn’t help but think that Lord Anonymous was the greatest thing to happen to Equestria.

                                            >In Queen Nightmare’s world, his stern, firm and perversely paternal guidance of the ponies had brought her vision of a flourishing empire to fruition.

                                            >The Queen rose and took the podium, Lord Anonymous kissing her cheek before yielding his place.

                                            >Fleur dismissed a twinge of jealousy. She was below him in station, it is simply impossible for her to be anything more than a slave to him.

                                            >Perhaps in a different place, things might have been different.

                                            >The pony in front of her shifts, and she glances briefly down.

                                            >Fleur sits in the second row, with the other important slaves that made this project happen.

                                            >In front of them sit the collared band of misfits Celestia sent to stop Queen Nightmare’s ascent.

                                            >A foolish endeavor.

                                            >The one at Fleur’s hooves is the former First Fashionista of Ponyville.

                                            >Master has commissioned many ornate outfits from her- indeed the very shoes locked on Fleur’s feet are a Rarity design.

                                            >Fleur’s attention returns to the Queen as clouds appear out of nowhere over the ceremony.

                                            >As Nightmare Moon unveils the statue of herself on the dais, thunder and lightning crash behind her.

                                            >It exaggerates the commanding pose of the statue, with her reared back on her hind hooves, Anonymous at her side with sword drawn.

                                            >Fleur muses to herself that Nightmare Moon likely chose that pose so that she would be taller than Lord Anonymous.

                                            >She politely clops her hooves together with the rest of the assembled ponies.


                                            >As the reception gets underway, Anonymous approaches Fleur.

                                            >Stopping beside her, he pauses to run his hand through her mane and scratch behind her ears.

                                            >”You’ve done well. Just a few more things and you’ll have earned a much deserved break.”

                                            “Thank you, Master.” Fleur replies, standing a bit taller with the praise.

                                            >”I’ve left an envelope in your saddlebags. Make sure to take care of it tomorrow. But for now, enjoy the party.” He instructs, before patting her head lightly and heading towards Nightmare Moon.

                                            >Oh what she’d give for him to pet her some more.

                                            >But for now, she went to check her saddlebags.

                                            >The envelope was easy enough to find. Opening it, she read through the short punch-list.

                                            >Just wrapping up the loose ends. But with her Master’s trademark flourish.

                                            >Only one needed to be done tonight, and that was after the party was over.

                                            >Oh, and there was a key. One she recognized and treasured.

                                            >Tonight was going to be wonderful.

                                            >Fleur returned the items to her saddlebags and headed to the buffet.


                                            >Moving through the line, Fleur admired Pinkie Pie’s work. The sheer volume of pie, cake and other baked goods was unbelievable.

                                            >Stopping to help herself to some mousse, Fleur made eye contact with one of the centerpieces.

                                            >Intricately tied with color-coordinated ropes, Applejack and Rarity had spent a few hours this morning working the Flower Sisters into knots.

                                            >Placed in massive green stemware, they gave the effect of three living, moving, moaning flowers.

                                            >Fleur smiled. The former Canterlot socialite delighted in such sublimely decadent abuses of power.

                                            >Her smile only deepened the scowl on Lily’s face, but with her muzzle tied shut she could do little else.

                                            >The unicorn winked at the poor pony and, seeing that nopony was nearby, leaned in close.

                                            “Now now, no need to be so sour. This is a sweets table, after all.” Fleur laughed.

                                            >The unicorn sauntered on down the line.


                                            >After mingling with the crowd- well, with the Canterlot part of the crowd –Fleur returned to the table.

                                            >Passing all the baked goods, she moved to the part she loved best.

                                            >The chocolate fountain.

                                            >Shaped like a unicorn in an exaggerated ballet position, it poured three types of chocolate into several basins.

                                            >The arms produced dark and white chocolate respectively, which fell freely and also ran down the arms and legs to pool in basins at each hoof.

                                            >The head was thrown back, muzzle pointed towards the sky, a fountain of milk chocolate running over the face, head and down the chest and back to the tail, which lead the milk chocolate to a center basin.

                                            >After coating several items in the various chocolates, Fleur checked that nopony was watching, and placed a bit of brownie on a stick. Reaching it into the milk chocolate behind the tail, she rubbed it along the pony for a bit.

                                            >After walking away from the whimpering fountain, she carefully sampled the bit of brownie.

                                            “Mmm… just a hint of mint.”


                                            Fleur knelt at Anonymous’s feet. She kissed his hand, and he returned the affection with scratching behind her ears.

                                            >”After tomorrow you can come home. I promise I haven’t sent you here forever.”

                                            “Thank you, Master.”

                                            >”I’ll see you tomorrow evening. Come and find me as soon as you get back.”

                                            “I will.”

                                            >”That’s a good girl.” He said, patting her head and stepping into his carriage. And just like that he was pulled away into the night sky.

                                            >Rising to her hooves, Fleur returned to the chocolate fountain.

                                            >The fountains were still running, the last part of the table left.

                                            >She dabbed a strawberry in dark chocolate while some workers rolled a cage over to the table.

                                            >Inside was a rather disheveled Bonbon. Occasional sobs escaped from her tied muzzle as she stared at the fountain with tear-stained eyes.

                                            “If you would have only cooperated, this wouldn’t have happened.” Fleur cooed menacingly as she circled the caged mare. “This could have been a table of candy, but /you/ chose this instead.”

                                            >A small sob comes from the fountain, as Bonbon’s eyes widen. A whimper escapes her bound lips.

                                            “But I have to admit, that bit of brownie was exquisite.” Fleur continued, leaning down to speak into the confectioner’s ear. “Milk chocolate mixes so well with mint.”

                                            >The two-toned mare’s attention snaps to Fleur, who winks at her and rises to stroll towards the fountain.

                                            >She repeats the exact motion as before, only slower, with long exaggerated movements.

                                            “This is what you chose, Bonbon.” Fleur reminded her. “It is because of you that poor Lyra became tonight’s dessert.”

                                            >Pulling the bit of brownie out from between the mare’s legs, she uses her magic to unravel the rope muzzling the mare.

                                            >”I’ll kill you, you bitch! I’LL FUCKING KI-!!!”

                                            >Fleur jams the bit of brownie into Bonbon’s mouth and forces it shut with her magic again.

                                            >A guard returns the rope to its place, forcing her to swallow.

                                            “Good, isn’t it?” Fleur asks, nodding. “Your work was impeccable.”

                                            >Slowly strutting to the fountain, Fleur beckons for the workers.

                                            “Come, turn this off. Get her down from there.”

                                            >The stallions rush over, turning off the pumps and opening the basin drains.

                                            >They remove the tubes tied to Lyra’s body as the last of the running chocolate dribbles off of her.

                                            >Fleur beckons two guards over and, as the workers release the restraints, the guards catch Lyra and help her down from the table.

                                            >A bit of chocolate pours out into Lyra’s mouth as they remove the spout that had been gagging her.

                                            >She chokes and sputters, her forehooves draped across the two guards for support.

                                            >Fleur pulls a few napkins over and wipes the area around Lyra’s eyes.

                                            “Lyra, Lyra, it’s over now. You can open your eyes, the fountains are off.”

                                            >Two large, golden eyes slowly blink open.

                                            >Fleur smiles.

                                            “Are you ready to serve our Master?”

                                            >Lyra simply nods.

                                            >Bonbon sobs.

                                            “You’re a good pony, Lyra. Master will be happy to take you, to care for you, in ways Bonbon chose not to.” Fleur continued. “But first, we need to get you cleaned up. If you two could help her to the spa, I’ve already made the necessary arrangements.”

                                            >The guards nod, and start walking.

                                            >Fleur watches eagerly as they pass Bonbon’s cage.

                                            >Lyra turns to look at her with eyes full of hurt and betrayal, and then turns away.

                                            >Bonbon watches her go, breaking down into hysterics as she passes out of sight.

                                            “Take this filth to the holding area. Once the workers are finished, go home. I’ll see you in the morning.” Fleur instructs the guard captain.

                                            >”Yes, ma’am!” he salutes then turns to bark orders at the remaining guards.

                                            >Fleur heads down the street towards the spa.


                                            >A bell tinkles as Fleur steps into the Spa.

                                            >Moments later, Lotus emerges from the back and smiles at her new customer.

                                            >”Oh, Miss Fleur! We’ve almost got her clean. Please, this way!” she says, indicating an open door.

                                            >Fleur follows her in, and allows Lotus to guide her into the hot baths. Stopping before a bath next to Lyra’s (where Aloe stands, vigorously scrubbing away), Fleur hands Lotus a delicate golden key.

                                            >Lotus takes it and carefully unlocks Fleur’s shoes. She then carries them to the front room while Fleur sinks into the steaming water.

                                            “How is it going, Aloe? Will Lyra ever emerge from her candy coating?”

                                            >”It goes very well, Miss Fleur! Soon we will have Miss Lyra back to ‘mint’ condition!”

                                            >Fleur giggles at the pun. Sometimes it’s the simple pleasures in life.

                                            >Fleur lets Aloe take Lyra ahead to a massage room. She’s bound to be stiff after being locked in that pose all evening, and she has Lotus for company anyways.

                                            >The two talk about the ceremony, about fashion and Canterlot gossip, about local happenings.

                                            >These are ponies Fleur can really appreciate. Her confidantes in Ponyville.

                                            >She always books the whole place when she visits, nopony has to know that the spa sisters have her full trust. It would hurt their business.

                                            >It is for the best. Let the simple folk of this backwater town think that she’s simply indulging in typical Canterlot excess.

                                            >Eventually Fleur and Lotus rejoin the other two, but she doesn’t have a chance to speak to Lyra until they sit down for hooficures.

                                            “Lyra, are you feeling better?”

                                            >”…a little.”

                                            “It’s been a long day. An awful day. But I promise that if you behave yourself, Master will never put you through something like this.”

                                            >”But he already did…today.” She objects.

                                            “No Lyra.” Fleur says, shaking her head. “Bonbon did this to you. She had an option. She knew the consequences. Everypony knows not to cross Master.”

                                            >”He could have told her-“

                                            “He shouldn’t need to tell her. How many other ponies simply obeyed when they were told? No Lyra, only a few chose to buck the New Order. And they have paid dearly.”

                                            >”But why me? Why not Bonbon!? WHY!?”

                                            “Calm down. Deep breaths. Aloe can’t work with you flailing around.” Fleur gently chides.

                                            >”…I just don’t understand.” Lyra mumbles.

                                            “Lyra, there will be many times when you won’t understand, you simply have to have faith in our Master.” Fleur replies. “Bonbon gave you away because she couldn’t overcome her pride. But with Master, you will /be/ his pride.”

                                            >Lyra simply nodded.

                                            “Besides, you don’t really think Bonbon is getting off scot-free, do you?”

                                            >The mint mare looked up intently at Fleur.

                                            “No, I don’t know the details, but I do know that she’s been collected for Master.” Fleur assured her. “She will get her due.”


                                            >The next morning Fleur woke in her spacious hotel suite.

                                            >She ordered in a fruit salad, and relaxed in the tub.

                                            >When breakfast arrived, she made the maid feed her so that she needn’t leave the relaxing jets of her bath.

                                            >Finally deigning to rise from the water, she toweled off and lay on the bed while the maid worshipped her pristine hooves.

                                            >Oh, how difficult it was to find help this good!

                                            >Sadly, all good things must come to an end, and –hooves massaged, trimmed and polished- she dismissed the maid and set about applying her makeup.

                                            >She dare not look anything but her best for work, no matter the duties assigned.

                                            >The thin layer of powder was more than mere makeup… it was a barrier.

                                            >Separating her from the common ponies of this little Podunk farm town.

                                            >Signifying her place as Lord Anonymous’s special envoy, the gilded voice that carried out his will in board rooms, committee meetings, council chambers and a thousand other places.

                                            >Making his presence known across the Empire with grace and poise.

                                            >Not like that seamstress… the trash thought she would be something important as his slave, hah!

                                            >Master is a man who likes everything and everypony in their proper place.

                                            >As she finishes with her face, Fleur lifts one of the golden shoes to look it over.

                                            “Trash or no, she does have an exquisite eye for detail.” She sighs to herself, polishing the myriad nooks and seams in the gold ornamentation.

                                            >With everything else done, a sigh escapes Fleur’s lips: time to put the shoes back on.

                                            >They’re comfortable –Master made sure of that- almost a part of her now, but it is nice when He allows her these little reprieves.

                                            >But all good things must come to an end, and now she has some work to address.

                                            >They lock in place with a click, and Fleur steps daintily out the door.


                                            >Across town she eventually arrives at a warehouse.

                                            >The metal doors are opened by two guards as Fleur’s heels click on the concrete.

                                            >Built to hold materials for the garden’s construction, it will be donated to the town for whatever the mayor needs it for.

                                            >But for now it still belongs to the crown.

                                            >Inside are some leftover materials, and a couple of cages.

                                            >The mares inside look terrible. Fleur muses that they probably didn’t get a really great night’s sleep.

                                            >Psh. One night in a cage and they’re broken.

                                            >No wonder Master has no interest in keeping any of them.

                                            >”Miss Fleur! I heard you were coming and had the vermin woken and fed for you.” The guard captain announces, suddenly at Fleur’s side.

                                            “That was sweet of you.”  She giggles, stroking his chin with a flick of her tail as she walks past. “Has our guest arrived?”

                                            >”N-no ma’am” he replies. “Shall I send somepony for her?”

                                            “There’s no need. Have the beige one blindfolded and loaded onto a cart. I’ll need to borrow a few guards. If the Mayor hasn’t arrived by the time I get back, /then/ we will send for her.”

                                            >”Understood.”

                                            “In the meantime, set the others up so we may begin as soon as I get back.”

                                            >“Yes, ma’am.”

                                            “It’s so nice to work with competent ponies for a change.” Fleur coos, kissing the guard captain on the cheek before leaving.

                                            >Just the brush of butterfly wings –barely there- but she knows she has him in her hooves.

                                            >She smiles to herself at that.

                                            >As BonBon is transferred to a cart, Fleur rummages through the stored equipment.

                                            >When she finds the chest she needs, she has the guards throw it on top of BonBon’s cage.

                                            >With a spring in her step, Fleur leads them out into Ponyville.

                                            >As they roll through town, some ponies stare at BonBon, others look away. Parents cover their children’s eyes or beckon them inside.

                                            >It would be better if they could see, so that they know what happens to those who oppose the crown.

                                            >They come to a halt in front of a shop in town. Fleur steps to the door, then pauses.

                                            “In the box is a restraint system. Set it up and lock her into it. I will come for her when it’s time.”

                                            >The unicorn in charge nods, and they begin unloading the chest.

                                            >A familiar tinkling bell announces Fleur’s arrival as she steps into the store.

                                            >”Be with you in a moment!” a voice calls from the back.

                                            >Sauntering over to a sofa, Fleur stretches out on its soft padding.

                                            >”M-miss Fleur!” the brown stallion stammers out, seeing who it is. “How can I be of service?”

                                            “My Master sent me.” Fleur begins, rising to her hooves and slowly approaching the stallion.

                                            >”Was-was everything not as he desired? I did try my-“

                                            “No, everything was fine.” She reassures him, “Excellent, actually.”

                                            >Stepping past him, she wraps his head in her tail and rubs her flank along his body as she goes by.

                                            “He sent me to deliver a tip.” She explains, accentuating her point with a light flick of the tip of her tail against his nose.

                                            >”A…tip?” he asks, surprised.

                                            “Indeed.” She affirms. “Do you have a backroom I could borrow?”

                                            >”Sure. This way.” He leads the way through a doorway behind the counter.

                                            >In the back Fleur finds a suitably sized area, and tells the salespony that she’ll find him when she needs him, and he bows out respectfully.

                                            >Walking out the nearby back door, she rounds the building and finds her guards.

                                            >Motioning for them to follow her, they load up and drag all their equipment around back.

                                            >With the guards doing the heavy lifting, the stocks are setup in no time and BonBon is wrestled into place.

                                            >A spreader bar attached to an iron weight holds her legs in place.

                                            >Earplugs are applied, and the rope keeping her silent is replaced with a proper muzzle.

                                            “Mister Davenport?” Fleur calls gently, sticking her head into the main area.

                                            >He quickly heeds her call and trots into the back room.

                                            >”Did you find what you…needed…miss…” he trails off as he comes to term with the scene before him.

                                            “She’ll never know. She can’t hear or see anything. She can’t move. She’s completely helpless, and-for today- completely yours.”

                                            >”I-I-I-don’t-“

                                            “Shhh, no reason to get anxious or nervous. You’ll do fine, have fun. Play with her, use her. We’ll be back tonight around ten to collect her.” Fleur instructs.

                                            >She walks past the stunned stallion, flicking his flank with her tail as she goes by. As she passes into the front of the shop, the guards exit and Davenport takes a few steps towards his prize.

                                            >Back in front, Fleur sees no one in the shop, so she goes to the front door, changes the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’ and locks the door on her way out.

                                            >She meets her escort in the street, and they head back to the warehouse.


                                            >Upon her return, Fleur strides into the area where the remaining mares were being kept.

                                            >The captain had them in stocks identical to BonBon’s.

                                            >She moves along them, pausing to run a gilded hoof across Lily’s flank.

                                            >A pony approaches…ah, the Mayor.

                                            >”You needed me, Miss Fleur?”

                                            “Indeed. My Master has decided that you are to be responsible for gauging the even use of these three” Fleur explains, gesturing to the Flower Sisters.

                                            >”Me? But-I don’t know-“

                                            “Are you unfit for the job?” Fleur sneers, moving in close. “Would you rather I watch over them? Because Lord Anonymous anticipated your reluctance, and is willing to compromise.”

                                            >”He-he is?” she looks up hopefully.

                                            “Last chance to back out.” Fleur offers.

                                            >”What is this bargain?”

                                            “Only one way to find out.”

                                            >”I’ll… I’ll take it. I can’t possibly supervise their suffering.” The Mayor sighs.

                                            “Very well.” Fleur nods. “Guards!”


                                            >It has been several hours since the punishment of the Flower Sisters commenced.

                                            >Fleur watches as the three before her are taken repeatedly by local stallions.

                                            >Dividers between them keep the stallions from seeing each other, and Fleur’s direction of traffic assures they don’t meet in transit.

                                            >Anonymous use of the flower sisters has generated quite the turnout.

                                            >It helps that the draft teams responsible for all of the heavy lifting in the garden project were invited to be the first ones in. A dozen large, strong stallions was a hell of a way to start the day.

                                            >A tired tongue teases Fleur, and she shifts to allow a better angle.

                                            >The tongue pauses, explores its new limits, and presses on, eliciting a slight moan from Fleur’s lips.

                                            >Beneath her, an amalgamation of rope, wood, cushions and Mayor Mare serve as Fleur’s throne.

                                            >After the first hour, Fleur had to begin reminding the Mayor of her duties with an occasional slap on the flank.

                                            >Lord Anonymous had allowed Fleur to cum at will should the Mayor choose this route, a small reward for having her return to Canterlot delayed by the stupid mare.

                                            >The show unfolding in front of her kept her interested, and she had been unrelenting with her bureaucratic bottom.

                                            > Hopefully the Mayor likes the taste of moscato.

                                            >Seeing that it was almost one in the afternoon, Fleur waves over the guard captain.

                                            “Close the lines. When the stallions already waiting are all done, we’ll feed the animals.”

                                            >”Yes, ma’am.” He salutes.

                                            >After overseeing a few more stallions for each girl, the captain lets Fleur know that the lines are empty.

                                            >Hopping daintily onto her feet, Fleur trots down to the trio while two guards free Mayor Mare.

                                            >The muzzles are removed, and the barn is soon filled with sobbing.

                                            >They plead and cry and beg for mercy.

                                            >In response, Fleur simply gives Mayor Mare a smooth plastic spoon.

                                            >There were already basins collecting their drippings in place.

                                            >And Fleur watched as the one proud mare carefully cleaned out the sisters.

                                            >The cotton was removed from their ears so they could hear Fleur.

                                            “You are to have a break, we wouldn’t want any of you to miss out on round two this afternoon.” Fleur said.

                                            >She approaches Daisy.

                                            “Open wide.”

                                            >The mare obeyed, and a funnel was placed in her mouth.

                                            >Fleur repeated the process with Lily and Rose.

                                            >A guard followed, and gave them water.

                                            >Then Mayor Mare followed with the basins… the girls were less receptive.

                                            >A fair bit of cum now coated their faces from the struggle.

                                            “Now girls,” Fleur chided “if you don’t swallow it all, I’ll see to it that you come back to Canterlot with me. Several nobles admired our centerpieces at the ceremony and I think you’d make lovely additions to the palace gardens.”

                                            >There was a lot of gagging, but they choked it all down.

                                            >Followed by some retching.

                                            >Followed by more water.

                                            >Feed bags were attached to the sisters, while Mayor Mare and Fleur sat down to a lunch of caprese salad. The guards took their lunch at a table in the corner.

                                            “You know,” Fleur spoke, looking at the mayor. “You have a chance to rethink our deal.”

                                            >The beige mare stops mid-bite and meets the unicorn’s gaze.

                                            “You can direct traffic, I can go home. We both win.”

                                            >She chews slowly, swallows, and clears her throat.

                                            >”Erm, yes. I… I’ll do it.”

                                            “The guards will make sure you don’t go easy on them. Just direct the next stallion to the open mare. Easy as can be. At six o’clock they are to be fed the contents of their basins again, and then released.”

                                            “I understand.” The Mayor mumbles.

                                            “Excellent.” Fleur smiles, biting into a cherry tomato.


                                            >Back in her hotel room, Fleur packed her bags.

                                            >She spoke with the guard captain as she did so, leaving a few instructions.

                                            -Release the Flower Sisters at 6pm.

                                            -Retrieve BonBon at 10pm.

                                            -Enjoy free use of Mayor Mare from 6pm to 10pm.

                                            >He saluted and bid her farewell, then returned to his duties.

                                            >Gathering up her things, Fleur handed them to the bellhop and headed down the hall.

                                            >She stopped at the front desk and left a generous tip and a calling card for the maid, and settled her bill.

                                            >As her things were loaded into the carriage, she handed the driver an address she needed to visit before leaving.

                                            >She climbed in, and the carriage began to roll.


                                            >It was only a few blocks to the small house on Stirrup Street.

                                            >A cozy little cottage, ideal for a couple without children.

                                            >Fleur crossed the stepping stones leading across the lawn, and knocked gently.

                                            >A moment later, the door opened a crack, and a golden eye peered out.

                                            >Fleur smiled, and Lyra opened the door to allow her inside.

                                            >”Is it time already?” the musician asked.

                                            “Yes. I am done with my business here. It’s time we went home.” Fleur answered. “Are you packed?”

                                            >”I didn’t know what to bring, so I just have some basics and my lyre…”

                                            “I can’t imagine you’ll need anything else.” Fleur nodded. “In fact, you can probably leave everything but your instrument… you will be in the service of the palace after all. Master takes care of his own.”

                                            “I… I just want some of my things.”

                                            “Okay.” Fleur says, opening the door. “Let’s go then.”

                                            >Lyra puts on her saddlebags and levitates her instrument case ahead of her to the carriage.

                                            >The luggage goes on top while the two mares climb in.

                                            >As the carriage lurches into motion towards the train station, the mares inside bid farewell to Ponyville.