Rose-Colored Glasses, by Neph


                                            [Copied from https://pastebin.com/UjbrWUGT]


                                            >You’re not really sure what you’re doing here in this stuffy warehouse. The smell of sweat and livestock permeates the air as shady looking individuals crowd around a small raised platform in the middle of the building.

                                            >This isn’t what you had in mind when you mentioned needing a maid but when Chris gets like this there’s no stopping him.

                                            >You met Chris back in High School and ended up friends throughout college.

                                            >Chris was always more proficient than you at everything. Looks, friends, girls, work, etc. In no time after graduating University he was more successful financially than you could ever hope to be.

                                            >His only real flaw is he tends to drink more than he should and throw his money away on whoever is around.

                                            >This time it was you and he insisted he buy one of these unfortunate animals to “assist you”.

                                            >“Hey anon, what about that one? She’s got a sweet ass man!”

                                            >Chris whoops, smacking you on the back. He motions to one of the animals chained to others in a line awaiting their turn to be sold.

                                            >It’s a sad looking unicorn mare with a yellow coat and a cerulean mane.

                                            >Her coat looks dusty and her mane is obviously in need of care, but she does have fairly plump haunches. Two blue hearts and a green heart accentuate her flank.

                                            >Your face goes red.

                                            "Come on man, fuck you, I’m not porking some dumb horse…Besides don’t the ones with horns need special meds or something?"

                                            >It’s been three years since ponies were enslaved and integrated into the human world as property.

                                            >You’re not wholly unfamiliar with them but you never planned on owning one yourself so you don’t know much about them.

                                            >You vaguely recall some news story from a few weeks ago about a unicorn that stopped taking magic suppressants and turned on its owner.

                                            >You don’t want to get into something like that.

                                            >Chris continues to stew in his drunkenness and jab at you every so often when he notices a particular pony he wants you to consider.

                                            >You act disinterested in all of them.

                                            >You’re still unsure about this whole thing.

                                            >Some of the ponies are mumbling incoherently to themselves. Most are crying silent tears.

                                            >Chris starts to get insistent on you choosing one before they’re all sold.

                                            >His buzz is fading, making his mood turn sour.

                                            >He grumbles about you letting the one with the sweet ass get taken.

                                            >You start making up excuses for each pony to buy more time.

                                            >Too thin. I’ll have to spend a ton in food getting it back in shape.

                                            >That one has a weird butt mark. It’s a dolphin, what does that even mean?

                                            >I don’t like that one’s colors.

                                            "They all look so sad man. Honestly we should just go home."

                                            >You watch as a purple pegasus is sold to an enthusiastic buyer and the next pony is unchained from the rest and led in front of the crowd.

                                            >She’s one of the regular kind without any horn or wings.

                                            >You think they’re called Earth ponies but you don’t remember why or how you know that.

                                            >Her coat is a soft cream color. Her mane and tail are two-toned. A deep raspberry with lighter streaks.

                                            >Adorning her flank is a mark in the shape of a flower. A single rose.

                                            >There’s something off about this one though.

                                            >This one is actually smiling.

                                            >Whereas you witnessed a few others being forcibly dragged onstage this one practically prances onto the platform with no hesitation.

                                            >The auctioneer starts reeling off important details before the bidding begins.

                                            >Young

                                            >Previously owned and experienced

                                            >Obedient

                                            >Good health

                                            >Suitable for housework, breeding, whatever your pleasure

                                            >He’s really talking her up and in between each point he makes she gives a playful little twirl of her tail or turns herself around cheerfully to let the bidders see her from multiple angles.

                                            >She seems to be deliberately showing herself off and smooths her mane back with one hoof.

                                            >All the while her light green eyes shine bright and she has that sweet little smile on her face.

                                            >Compared to the others it’s absolutely bizarre.

                                            >Chris has a shit-eating grin on his face and before you can stop him he shouts out some ridiculous figure.

                                            >No one else can even come close to matching it, the rich fuck.

                                            >The auctioneer pounces on the offer.

                                            >The little rose pony gives a happy squeak and does a quick little dance on her tiptoes (Tiphooves? Whatever.) like she can’t contain herself.

                                            >Your eyes dart around nervously. It’s too cute and it gives you an uncomfortable feeling that she’s so happy to be property.

                                            >You catch a glimpse of the ponies that are left unsold in chains and you notice a few of them are looking at the cream colored mare with odd expressions.

                                            >You're unsure if it's resentment or just sadness.

                                            >Just like that she’s led offstage on a leash and a worker approaches Chris to take care of the paperwork involved with his purchase.

                                            >Somehow the leash ends up in your hands. >She’s looking up at you with those big eyes and an expectant smile.

                                            >”Hello Master! Thank you so much for your generosity. I’m going to be a very good girl for you!”

                                            >F-fuck your heart.

                                            >Master?

                                            “Okay...Sure.”

                                            >You don’t know what else to say but the pony doesn’t seem to mind as she sits patiently at your side.

                                            >Chris comes up behind you shortly and pats you on the back looking pretty damn smug.

                                            >”Sorry bud, but I couldn’t let you walk out of here without one when I said I was buying! Besides, look how cute and eager this one is. She’s practically begging you to put her to work.” He gives you a sly smile with that last line.

                                            >The cream-colored pony beams at you both innocently.

                                            >It’s a little off-putting and you wonder if she understands human innuendo.

                                            >Chris knows you’re not into them that way but that obviously doesn’t stop him from teasing you about it.

                                            >And she certainly is eager.

                                            >Makes you wonder about her previous owner.

                                            >There’s no shortage of rumors and stories about them being used for sex.

                                            >Hell, you’ve seen the news coverage of clubs being busted for selling their services that way.

                                            >Plus that one protest group pushing for legalization...

                                            >Thank God an attendant brings you copies of your new pony’s paperwork so you stop thinking about it.

                                            >They have you sign a few and there's some information about her background but honestly you don't pay much attention to it.

                                            >You resolve to give it a proper look once you get home and just fold everything up for later.

                                            >Now that you officially own one and Chris is satisfied you really want to hightail it out of this place.

                                            >Time passes without incident as you drive Chris home with the little pony in the back seat.

                                            >Honestly you barely remember the ride.

                                            >Once you pull the car up in front of his place you realize you never really thanked him.

                                            >Even if you didn’t want a pony, you should still say something.

                                            “Hey. So I appreciate everything today…Y’know. Buying it. Her.”

                                            >He’s laughing at your awkward attempts.

                                            "You know I’m not good with these things! But thank you.”

                                            >”It’s fine. I promise you’re going to love it. My boss is always raving about his! I would probably get my own except you know Tammy would go apeshit on me.”

                                            >Sounds like Tammy. She’s kind of an überbitch and you’re really not sure why Chris puts up with her.

                                            >"She would never shut up about whether or not I’m cheating on her with it. Plus I think a horse bit her once so she kind of hates them. Anyway, make sure you keep me updated and have fun with your little slave!"

                                            >You stiffen a bit when he calls her that but you promise you’ll stay in touch before saying your goodbyes and driving off.

                                            >Honestly you don’t know why it bugged you.

                                            >That’s exactly what she was even if you only intended for her to be a maid.

                                            >Glancing at the back seat in the rearview mirror you can see her staring happily out the window as the streets whiz by.

                                            >She doesn’t show any indication of being even the least bit frazzled by Chris’s comment.

                                            >You sincerely hope you don’t fuck this up.

                                            >You’ve never even had a goldfish and now you own a sentient talking horse.

                                            >Eventually you make it back to your own painfully plain brick apartment building.

                                            >You somewhat expected her to be confused or disappointed at the place considering how much money Chris threw down to buy her but she’s still chipper as ever as she follows behind you.

                                            >Maybe it’s just instinctual to roll with whatever happens to you when you’re bought and sold

                                            >It would make sense not to have expectations.

                                            >You get to your humble abode on the fifth floor but just for a moment you hesitate to open the door.

                                            >You can’t remember the state you left it in.

                                            >Aw fuck it. You got her to clean the place anyway does it matter if it’s dirty?

                                            >You swing the door open and usher her in.

                                            >It’s not too terrible, and actually pretty typical for a bachelor pad.

                                            >Sparse decor with no real running theme besides ‘cheap’.

                                            >There's a few small piles of unwashed clothes strewn around.

                                            >Various days-old cups and dishes.

                                            >A small dying fern in one corner.

                                            >Without straying too far from you the little pony gravitates towards the dilapidated houseplant.

                                            “Heh. Yeah so…Welcome home.”

                                            >She's over at the half-dead fern now delicately holding up a limp leafy section with her hoof.

                                            >She makes a small cooing sound as if it’s some living creature she's trying to comfort.

                                            >Oh yeah. Her mark is a flower.

                                            “So, you like plants?”

                                            >Jesus Christ Anon of course she does.

                                            >”Oh yes! I do very much Master.”

                                            “R-right. That’s good since you get to take care of it. It’s the only one in the place though.”

                                            >Your mother insisted the last time she was over. Said your place was too dreary.

                                            >”Oh, that’s fine Master! That just means I’ll have to take extra special care of it so it doesn’t get lonely.”

                                            >She turns away from the plant and surveys the rest of the apartment.

                                            >”What other duties will I be responsible for Master?”

                                            “For now just worry about the plant and tidying up the place. General stuff like dishes and laundry. I’ll figure out more later. To be honest this is pretty sudden for me.”

                                            >She gives you a sympathetic look. It makes you feel like the fern.

                                            >”Don’t worry Master. I’m a good girl, I’ll do whatever you need me to do!”

                                            >Uncomfortableness overload.

                                            "You don’t need to keep calling me that you know. It’s just Anon okay?”

                                            >Suddenly you realize you never got her name. You think the auctioneer probably said it and of course it would be on the paperwork, but you left that in your car like an irresponsible idiot.

                                            “I’m so sorry. What should I call you?”

                                            >"My name is Roseluck. But you can call me anything you like Ma-“

                                            >She fumbles halfway through and scrunches her face for a split second.

                                            >”I mean A-Anon!”

                                            >She looks pleased with herself after making the correction.

                                            “I’ll just stick with Roseluck, thanks.”

                                            >You give her a smile. You can’t help but feel like you should praise her but you’re still pretty unsure how to act and you don’t want to be demeaning.

                                            >She keeps calling herself “good girl” but it makes you think of a dog or something.

                                            "How about you get that plant something to drink and I'll show you around the rest of the place okay?"