(Slave) Lyra Heartstring's Fantastical Convention Reversal


                                            >Be Lyra

                                            >And you are practically bouncing in your seat as you watch outside your window.

                                            >HE was coming in the mail today.

                                            >They had been dumped here a while back through some kind of magic storm.

                                            >Their first day they made a camp and actually raided a pony settlement.

                                            >They seemed to be able to resist magic, and even if they couldn’t cast themselves, they had proven to be adept crafters, able to surpass their inabilities with tools instead..

                                            >Fear swept through Equestria because of this new threat, and the element bearers were called to duty.

                                            >Except they didn’t do anything.

                                            >Princess Celestia sun-beamed the creatures’ camp into a crispy black crater along with about a hundred of the things.

                                            >The creatures surrendered.

                                            >It was a good day.


                                            >Celestia enslaved and sold the creatures, called hyoo-maines, across Equestria to high bidders.

                                            >Of course, there had been some voices that yelled in protest to release them, saying all beings deserve life liberty and pursuit of happiness.

                                            >These ponies were sequestered on the moon until their case could be examined.

                                            >Now they won’t get to feel those wigglers for their heresy, you thought.

                                            >If the God-Princess of ponykind choose to enslave them, it MUST be right.


                                            >Back to the present and your imminent delivery.

                                            >Your head is spinning with all the things you’ll do.

                                            >No matter what, you’re going to show him you’re not a mean and evil master, and you’ll be good to him.

                                            >Sun, you can just imagine now how he’ll be so grateful to you.

                                            >You heard they can speak, and you can just imagine a beautiful baritone whispering to you.

                                            >“Mistress Lyra, thank you so much for all you’ve given to me,” he’d say.

                                            >“I want to thank you for all your kindness.”

                                            >With happy tears in his eyes he’d move those wiggler hooves and caress your tuft and belly.

                                            >They’d run up and down your velvety midline, exploring and caressing every inch.

                                            >You bite your lip and blush.

                                            >[spoiler]Ho, lordy, belly rubs are so lewd.[/spoiler]


                                            >Or maybe, when he saw the cute little bed you bought him instead of a cardboard mat, he’d soften and open up to you.

                                            >Then maybe he’d come to you late at night and bashfully ask if he could sleep with you.

                                            >It’s scary sleeping in a new place, after all.

                                            >You’d snuggle him and keep him warm while telling him everything would be fine.

                                            >You squirm in place and let out a groan.

                                            “Come ooooon, when is he getting here? Bon Bon might be home soon and she’ll throw an absolute fit if she sees what I bought.”

                                            >Rightfully so you suppose.

                                            >Bon Bon was your roommate, but sometimes she felt a little more like your mom.

                                            >It probably had something to do with the fact that you were not known in town for your prudent spending habits or sensibility, and she had to step in to manage things.

                                            >Screw what ponies say though, you were just a mare living in the moment.

                                            >And when the auction came through you knew you wanted yourself a hyoo-maine.


                                            >Best life’s savings you ever spent.


                                            >Although Princess Twilight probably didn’t like getting outbid.

                                            >To prevent being evicted due to mysteriously missing paperwork, you at least agreed to let her study him now and again.

                                            >Now and again being when you were ready to share.

                                            >Which would be never.


                                            >A large blue truck with a wing logo pulls up and a mail pony steps out.

                                            >You prance in place then race downstairs and throw the front door open.

                                            >The mailpony flinches as you burst out with a deranged smile on your face, and you opt to help him out by grabbing the sign waver with magic.

                                            >”Um, a-are you—”

                                            “Yes, I’m Lyra Heartstrings,” you say quickly as you sign. “Where is he? Is he scared to come out? Is he hungry? Oh the poor thing and his inevitably awful living conditions. You slavers are brutes.”

                                            >He glances to you then back to the van.

                                            >”Hold on Miss. Did you read the safety information scroll? There’s a lot to making sure the human is safe and doesn’t get loose and all.”

                                            >You wave a hoof dismissively.

                                            ”Pssh, I got this.”

                                            >”Well if you say so… Here’s the shock collar controler, key, and some heavy sedatives if you need them,” he said and handed over a package with a black single button remote on top.

                                            >”I’m going to let him out now—”

                                            >You nod furiously.

                                            >”A-Are you going to be ready with the remote or…?”

                                            “Yeah, sure whatever. Just open it already so I can take him inside and comfort him. He’s probably had it rough being a slave and all.”

                                            >”Actually we treat them very well.”

                                            “Yes, well, he won’t know treated well till I’m done with him.”

                                            >The stallion pursed his lips and glanced at the truck with a worried look.

                                            >After walking to the side, he pressed a button near the rear of the truck, and the back double doors unlocked.

                                            “It’s okay big guy, everything is going to be fine!” you yell.

                                            >Your magic rips the doors open, maybe sorta swiping the mailpony to the side, but there he was—in all his glory.


                                            >He sat in the center of the truck cross legged, manacles holding his hands together and a metal collar handsomely adoring his neck.

                                            >He blinked at the sudden light.

                                            >The creature was fairly muscular, with long limbs, a short mane, and beautiful skin instead of a coat.

                                            >Sun, he was a good looking whatever the heck.

                                            >He got to his feet and groaned as he put his hands to his brow to shield from the sun.

                                            >Ohhh, look at those wiggler hooves!

                                            >You hear a steady pip of liquid hitting the ground and you realize you’re drooling.

                                            >Mostly drooling.

                                            >Another part of you was dripping too.

                                            >He was just so… exotic looking.


                                            “H-Hey…” you say, somewhat lost for words.

                                            >He pauses, looks around town for a bit, then steps off the truck bed and comes to stand in front of you.

                                            >You found yourself craning your neck back just to look up at him.

                                            >Hyoo-Maines sure are big.

                                            “So, you’re the one who bought me huh… I don’t see any cotton so there’s at least that.”

                                            >What…? What does that have to do with anything?

                                            >Is cotton poisonous to hyoo-maines?

                                            >Dangit, you didn’t think of that!

                                            >You make a note to burn Bon Bons drapes and bed sheets.


                                            >Shoot, he’s staring, say something.

                                            “Oh, I’m Lyra, and I’m going to be taking care of you from now on.”

                                            >”Anonymous,” he says, looking somewhat apathetic.

                                            >Poor thing must be having a hard time coping from all the horrible things he’s been through.

                                            “You wanna come in? I can get you something to eat if you want.”

                                            >Evidently that appeals to him, as he shrugs, walks past you and ducks down through your front entrance.

                                            >You skip in after him, a giddy smile on your face.

                                            >This was gonna be so much fun!


                                            >After closing the door, you unlock his manacles, tell him to make himself comfortable anywhere and assure him that you’d make him whatever he wanted today.

                                            >Just before you rush into the kitchen to whip up a sick-ass daisy sandwich, a smell hits you.

                                            >You sniff and inhale the musky male scent of the creature in front of you.

                                            >Ooh, yeah you wanted that scent on you.

                                            >B-But only when he’s ready of course because you weren’t like other mares.

                                            >You respect stallions.

                                            >He clears his throat, looking a bit embarrassed.

                                            >”You can smell that? Uh, sorry, could I use your shower? The shipment van wasn’t exactly air conditioned and I know you guys have stronger noses.”


                                            >Your heart skips and you suppress a squee.

                                            >Yesyesyes

                                            >You could clean him.

                                            “Absolutely, right this way,” you say as you lead him to your bathroom.

                                            “Go ahead and get in. I’ll get you all cleaned up.”

                                            >He quirks an eyebrow at you.

                                            >”I think I can manage on my own. Just, if you could, I need a much bigger towel is all. Standard soap works fine and, well, I’m not picky about shampoo.”

                                            >The creatures gently slides you across the floor through the doorway and shuts it on you.


                                            >Your jaw goes slack and you deflate like a balloon, squeaky whine and all.

                                            >B-But you wanted to lovingly clean him!

                                            >Why did he not see you were willing to be nice?

                                            “Um, Mr. Hyoo-Maine.”

                                            >He opens the door.

                                            >”You can call me Anonymous.”

                                            “Right, um, see thing is, I was thinking I could take care of the bathing for you.”

                                            >He stared at you.

                                            >”Why?”

                                            >Because he’s kinda super pretty and you want to help him through this time in his life?

                                            >That wouldn’t work though.

                                            >Sometimes you had to be careful how you show your love.

                                            “Um… welllllll…? You can’t bathe alone?”

                                            >He glared at you.

                                            >“Oh is that how it is? Is that your first order, Mistress?”

                                            ”Nonono, I wouldn’t, I’m not like those kinds of masters—er mares. I mean uh, I just want you to be safe and it’s… the knobs!”

                                            >”The knobs?”

                                            “Indeed, the knobs! They can only be operated by a unicorn,” you said pointing to your horn. “Agh, if only I could let you do it alone, but alas, the oppressive knobs—”

                                            >He casually twisted the shower knob.

                                            >Hot water spurted out of the shower head and the two of you stood there, motionless.

                                            >Right…

                                            >Hoof wigglers.

                                            >You put on a fake smile.

                                            “Greeeeeat, uh. You sure you don’t need any help?”

                                            >”I’m good.”

                                            “You sure you’re sure?”

                                            >”Yep.”

                                            “...oookay. If that’s what you want then.”

                                            >He closes the door and your ears go back.

                                            >No sudsy nurturing?

                                            >A small whine escapes your lips.

                                            >But you love sudsy nurturing!


                                            >Celestia dammit.

                                            >Oh well, you can at least make him something nice to eat.

                                            >You had no clue what humans ate honestly.

                                            >Did they eat eggs?

                                            >Maybe you could get him a bowl of eggs.

                                            >Of course he would probably be overwhelmed by your generosity since he’d have never been fed something as good as that, but you’d firmly tell him he’d have to eat all the eggs.

                                            >Brain, this is an excellent plan.

                                            >Brain: Fuckyea’


                                            --


                                            >You sat at the table with Anonymous, your hooves under your chin, jaw slack, as you watched little droplets of water run down his neck from his hair.

                                            >He had his shirt off and glistened before you, and it took all your willpower to not start leaking fluids on your chair.

                                            >You tail however, had a mind of it’s own, and twitched like mad.

                                            >”So uh…” he said. “Dresses don’t work that great as towels but I think I got as dry as I could.”

                                            “...Mm?”

                                            >”Why did they all have like little candy prints on them?”

                                            “Oh it’s uh… roomates or something. Didn’t want to use bedsheets since you’d die.”

                                            >”What? Are you listening to me?”

                                            “You have my full attention.”

                                            >”Well then why…? You know what nevermind. Why did you give me a bowl of eggs by the way?”

                                            “No need to thank me.”

                                            >He looks at you with concern.

                                            >”It’s raw eggs though. I can’t eat that.”

                                            >You blink.

                                            >He wasn’t happy crying yet… why wasn’t he happy cryi—oh right!

                                            “Y-You have to eat all the eggs.”

                                            >You grin ear to ear.

                                            >He just gives you a bemused look, pushes the eggs to the center then walks over to the fridge.

                                            “Oh, um, feel free to grab whatever you want. You can eat when you please here, b-because I’m not like your old masters and—”

                                            >”There’s just grass and flowers.”

                                            “Try another drawer.”

                                            >”There’s just more grass.”

                                            “Then, just, I don’t know, try the pantry.”

                                            >He groans then heads over and opens the pantry nearby.

                                            >“Oh look, fresh hay!”

                                            “Well yeah, so?”

                                            >”Hay IS grass!”

                                            “What person doesn’t eat hay?! Are you rockitarian or something?”

                                            “Rocki—Screw you and your shitty—oh, wait, apples.”

                                            >With a happy grin he comes back to the table with a bushel of apples and sits down.

                                            >He starts chomping away at one, little off-white dribbles of juice sliding down his chin.

                                            >Your legs shudder and you cross them before your scent starts wafting through the room.

                                            >Humans scenting was terrible but there was a limit.

                                            >Your poor chair was going to smell like peppermint bark for weeks after this.


                                            >You sit and wait, letting him enjoy his meal in relative peace.

                                            >Two cores already lay on the table and you quirk an eyebrow.

                                            >Wow, that’s a lot of calories…

                                            >Usually you and Bon Bon only needed one each for a meal.

                                            >Gosh, they really didn’t feed him well did they.

                                            >Poor guy.

                                            >You’ll just have to make sure he eats up and gets better.

                                            >You look down and note a fourth apple core just joined the group.

                                            >Your eyes bulge.

                                            >Holy God-Princess, he’s going to eat himself to death!

                                            ”Anon, y-you can stop now. You’re allowed to eat whenever you want, remember? Don’t overdo it.”

                                            >He stops mid bite, and looks at you.

                                            >“Oh hm, right. I shouldn’t eat straight fruit.”

                                            >Uh… sure?

                                            >Whatever gets him to not kill himself.

                                            >“I know this is probably strange to ask, but do you have any proteins?”

                                            “Like… beans?”

                                            >”I was thinking more like meat.”

                                            >You stare blankly at him.

                                            >A few moments pass before you sputter and give a chuckle.

                                            “Oh, Anon, haha. Can you imagine? Our great Princess handing out predators into the pony population?”

                                            >”Uh… yes. I can imagine worse actually. She’s an evil tyrant, Lyra.”

                                            “HAA, oh Anon, that sounds like heresy. You’re funny. Here, if you’re done eating, I want to show you your new bed.”

                                            >”I’m actually still pretty hungry.”

                                            “Heh, okay big guy. C’mon,” you say with a roll of your eyes and grab his collar chain with your magic.

                                            >You start heading toward the basement, your new hyoo-bando in tow.

                                            >You had really wanted to have him sleep in a guest room near you so you could make sure he didn’t have any scary panic attacks during the night, but you couldn’t risk it with your roommate.

                                            >She’d have to know eventually, now that you think about it.

                                            >This couldn’t be kept a secret forever.

                                            >Anon would have to come upstairs to eat, bathe, give tummy rubs out of gratitude and so on.

                                            >You stop and scrunch your muzzle.

                                            >... why didn’t you think of that earlier?

                                            >Meh, screw it, you’d enjoy the lack of yelling for as long as possible.

                                            >You hear a light coughing sound from behind you and you look over your shoulder.

                                            >Anon was rubbing his neck around his collar and wincing.

                                            >“You guys aren’t terrible compared to human captors,” he said with a rasp. “but these collars are a literal pain.”

                                            >Butterflies start in your stomach and your face lights up.

                                            >Idea!

                                            >You walk over to Anon and motion for him to come down to you.

                                            >He kneels and you place a comforting hoof on his shoulder, looking him in his beautiful green eyes.

                                            “Oh Anon, I’m so sorry. I forgot all about this terrible thing.”

                                            >”But you were just tugging—”

                                            “I want you to know, you don’t have to wear it anymore. I trust you.”

                                            >And with that, you lift the key up to his collar.

                                            >A faint click sounds and you gently pull it away from his neck, making sure to give him a loving look.

                                            “There. All better.”

                                            >Your heart beats a million miles a minute as you sat back down on your haunches.

                                            >Anon stood, wide eyed, and glancing back between you and the collar.

                                            >He must be completely overwhelmed right now.

                                            “I’m here for you, big guy. You’re more than a slave to me,” you say, and gently close your eyes.

                                            >Oooh, boy, here come the tuft nuzzles.

                                            >You arch your back and fluff up dat tuft, doing your best to keep the blush from your face and your tail under control this time.

                                            >...

                                            >...

                                            >Any second now.

                                            >...

                                            >Brain: Hey Lyra

                                            >Yeah, brain?

                                            >Brain: Where are the tuft cuddles?

                                            >Shh, they’re coming.

                                            >Brain: You are so dumb, I swear...

                                            >You slowly peek out of one eye to confirm and see—

                                            >The front door swings lightly on its hinge in the breeze.

                                            >Anon is nowhere to be seen.

                                            >...


                                            >Celestia, damnit.


                                            ---


                                            >You are still Lyra and you’re racing through town, checking every side street, stall, and shop for anything tall and bipedal.

                                            >Dammit, why did he run!

                                            >You rush down another side street, checking to your left and righ—

                                            >The world spins and you land flat on your back.

                                            ”Ow…”

                                            >A groan echoes in turn to your right, and when you look, you turn pale.

                                            >Twilight Sparkle is out cold in a heap, and her books had spilled across the street.

                                            >Panic sets in as you leap up and fidget like a mare with her tail on fire.

                                            >Shootshootshoot, the princess will have you killed.

                                            >Goodbye world, it was nice knowing you.

                                            >You only hope the afterlife has 72 sexy stallions just like those Saddle Arabians said.

                                            >Wait, don’t you have to be part of their religion or something?

                                            >Meh, their god doesn’t raise the fuckin’ sun.

                                            >They’ll be purged like the rest soon enough.

                                            >Just not before the Yaks.


                                            >Twilight moans and slowly rises to her feet.

                                            >”What happened?”

                                            “I DINDU NUFFIN.”

                                            >Twilight rubs her head and squints at you.

                                            >“Lyra? What are you doing here? And what just hit me…?”

                                            “Friendship for the Friendship God!” you say and hug her with loyal fervor that is most unsuspicious.

                                            >Twilight puts a hoof to her face and breathes out slowly.

                                            “Lyra, for the last time, all I did was get some wings. I don’t need offers of—Ugh, nevermind, my head hurts too much. I was actually on my way to your house. Is everything fine with your new human? I assume he’s with BonBon if you’re in town right now. It’d be highly illegal if he were running around unattended.”

                                            >Your eyes go wide and a smile jerks onto your face.

                                            “O-Oh, of cour—”

                                            >A cardboard box comes into view just to the right of Twilight’s head as you let her down.

                                            >You squint.

                                            >When did that get there...

                                            >It rotates slightly right then left, then lifts up and starts moving across the street, two non-hoof feet at the bottom.

                                            >Your pupils to pinpricks and you freeze.

                                            >Sweet mother of Faust…

                                            >He knew top level Equestrian infiltration techniques!

                                            >Twilight furrows her brow and starts to turn.

                                            “What are you looking a—”

                                            >Your hooves snap to the sides of her face, stopping her turn.

                                            >”Lywa?” Twilight says, her lips squished in a fish face. “Why did you gwab my faesh.”

                                            “Uh…”

                                            >The moving box bumps into signpost at the side of the street.

                                            >Anon backs up an inch, then moves forward and bumps the sign again.

                                            >”Look, Lyra, I don’t have time for this,” Twilight says and starts to pull out of your grasp.

                                            >The box bumps the signpost.

                                            >THISISN’TWORKING

                                            >With all the power of your shining knighthood you tighten your grip.

                                            “Twilight there’s something I need to tell you!”

                                            >Twilight stares at you. “Yeah…?”

                                            “I-I think you’re really…”

                                            >“Really what?”

                                            “Purple.”

                                            >“...what?”

                                            “You’re just,” you say and shift your head to the side to see Anon still stuck. “Th-the purpliest.”

                                            >She blushes, an effect you might even find cute despite your heterosexuality if her face wasn’t mashed between your hooves.

                                            >Her horn lights up and she pulls you away then rubs her cheeks.

                                            >”Uh, thanks I guess. I do my best to be—purple. But we really should get to your house to make sure your slave is doing okay,” she says and turns around. “There’s a lot you should know. Human biology is very different from…”

                                            >She blinks.

                                            >“Is that a box?”

                                            >PANIC.

                                            >NOW IS THE TIME FOR PANIC.

                                            >Brain, halp!

                                            >Brain: Hm? What’s going on?

                                            >Screw it, this was for the belly rubs!

                                            >You sprin Twilight around, and just as her face comes in front of you again, you plant your lips firmly upon hers and close your eyes, illiciting a high ‘eep’ from Twilight.

                                            >She struggles in your hooves and moans into your mouth for a moment, but you pull her tight and lift the two of you up on your back hooves.

                                            >Twilight relaxes bit by bit and she starts to return the kiss, tentatively at first, but eventually in earnest.

                                            >You peek an eye open.

                                            >No box.

                                            >Phew, thank the sun.

                                            >You shove Twilight away and she lands on the pavement with a thud.

                                            >You wipe the spit from your mouth and flick it onto the pavement.

                                            >Grape flavor is shit.

                                            >Twilight breathes hard and looks up at you with a bright blush on her face.

                                            >Her ears go back and she sinks down.

                                            >”Lyra, I… that was my first kiss.”

                                            >Way to make it super gay, Twilight.

                                            “Hm, whatever,” you say with a shrug. “In any case, he’s not ready to see new ponies and needs time to recuperate from his ordeal. Seeyalaterbye.”

                                            >”What? But why did you...” Twilight groaned and laid down, putting a hoof over her eyes. ”I don’t even know anymore.”


                                            >You race down the direction you saw the wayward box and find it sitting in the center of market square.

                                            >Several ponies meandered around it, giving the box hardly a second glance.

                                            >Still no alarm from the populace.

                                            >”You’re pretty good,” you say under your breath.

                                            >You run up and fling the box away, revealing Anon in a strange outfit.

                                            >His ass clenches in a black, skin tight suit as he turns to you.

                                            >You feel your horn fizzle and a glob of glittery liquid plops down on your nose.

                                            >Hoooo, mama where’d he get that outfit.

                                            >Before you can say anything, he wraps his arms around you

                                            >Time freezes.

                                            >His hoof winglers grab tightly around your tuft and hindquarters, and your eyes shoot open.

                                            >Your legs nearly buckle as you feel those little digits press firmly into your fur.

                                            >This was beyond anything you could have predicted.

                                            >Your eyes start to roll back and a goofy smile makes it way onto your face.

                                            >In the midst of elysium a faint thought echoes through your mind.

                                            >Brain: That’s a judo hold.

                                            >The sky spins around you and you find your face sailing toward pavement.

                                            >You hear a sickening crack and your vision starts to fade to black.

                                            >The last thing you see are the local ponice rush in with their pool noodle batons.

                                            “Totally… worth it…” you say, and slip away.


                                            --