[Copied from https://pastebin.com/0rmywwyB]

>Be Anon
>Be staring out the window for about the last hour
>Or rather, just having your face turned to the window, in direction of outside.
>You didn't see shit
>But just now you've heard your mother knock on the door to your apartment, claiming she knows you were in there, that she has the key and- yadda yadda
>Eventually she makes her threat true and unlocks the door.
>You don't face her.
>You don't see the point in it.
>See the point – isn't language just the nicest thing to you?
>For some reason you can relate to tumblr whiny bitches now, but at least you're shut down in your own home and don't bother anyone
>Not unlike you were before...
>You sigh.
>Your mother takes this as a sign that you have listened to her.
>She brought you groceries, that much you understood, but you didn't bother with listening to her further.
>”Anon, Anon!”
>You gave up.
“What?”
>The word came like a growl at her.
>You hear her take a step back.
>But it wasn't the only thing you hear. Something else had given a small whimper at your outburst.
>”I also got you something else.”
>You'd roll your eyes if you could, but just sigh again, all the while continuing to have your cheek glued on the window.
>“I got you someone to help you with your daily life.”
“I told you I don't need a nurse, or a housekeeper! Or... whatever...”
>Your words were louder than you meant them to be.
>Somewhere you know she means well, but there wasn't room in your mothers or in your own budget to hire someone to take care of you.
>But the fact that someone has to take care of you to begin with infuriates you.
>And if you judge correctly, whomever your mother brought with you had whimpered earlier at you simply having snarled 'what?' at your mom.
>Neither had he or she said anything of introduction.
>Maybe they assume you didn't hear them come in with your mom, and can be rude.
>Listening in on the conversation of a mother and her son having just... lost his eyesight in an car accident.

>Your cheek leaves the glass pane.
>You always hated the view anyway.
“So? Aren't you gonna fucking introduce yourself, or what?”
>You shout into the room in direction of the door, where you assume the other person stood, and hear another whimper in response.
>”It's not a person.”
>It was the voice of your mother, and not whomever it was introducing themselves.
“What then? You better not got me a dog.”
>”It's one of them ponies.”
>Of course you have heard of these ponies.
>Sentient alterterrestrial aliens who were enslaved.
>And as you spend most of your time on the internet on morally dubious sites, you of course know that pone is for sexual
>A proverbial sting of pain goes through you as you bring your thoughts to the internet.
>You only used to do that.
>Without your eyes you can't internet for shit.
>And no way in hell you ask someone to read and shitpost in your... place
>But a slave...
>Hmm...
“A pony, huh? Okay, I take it.”
>Your mom was surprised at your positive response.
>”You're taking it? Oh, I'm glad. I hope interacting with another creature will do you some good, especially never left your apartment-
>Again she began to ramble on about your life before the accident.
>Go outside, Anon.
>Meet people, Anon.
>Be more social, Anon.
>Why don't you have a girlfriend, Anon? You're so nice.
>The usual.
>Like hell you go outside, and like hell you go outside in your state.
>Or get a grill.
>Who would be interested in a blind guy with scars all over his face because he flew face first into a windshield?
>Hmm... Is pone for sexual?
>Wait... Is it even female?
>Not exactly like you care much, you have delved too deep into /d/ to still consider yourself straight
>or any regular sexual orientation for that matter.
>Problem was that you actually are a nice guy, and you don't think you can simply order the pone to spread it's legs for you.
>Or that you would find the hole yourself.
>Gosh dangit, now you are thinking about sex.
>You don't want to get a boner in front of your mom.

>Creating a distraction seems like the way to go to avoid unwanted boners
“Pony, come here.”
>You order as your mother is seemingly explaining the paperwork of sentient pet ownership.
>It took a few seconds until you were able to hear hoof steps come closer to you.
>You crouch down extent your hand out, palm up for the pony to touch.
>But the pone stops just before you.
>Slightly annoyed you stretch your hand out to touch it.
>only to boop the pone's snout somewhat forcefully.
>It reels back and you could hear the sound of it falling over.
“Sorry-”
>You try to apologize for being rough but your mother cuts you off.
>”Anon! What were you thinking punching her like that?”
“I didn't mean to punch her!”
>Her
>At least you know now that if you try to stick your dick in you can miss and always hit another hole.
>No, bad Anon.
>You pat along the floor to find the pony's form until you hit it's fuzzy coat.
“I didn't know how far away you were. I certainly didn't mean to punch you.”
>”And the man at the store said her last owner gave her up because she was too delicate. But I thought my Anon wouldn't hit a girl, no matter the species.”
>You hear sniffing.
>Wait... Is she crying?
>Oh shit.
“I didn't even know it was a girl!”
>”Oh, you made her cry.”
“I DIDN'T MEAN TO!”
>You shout at your mom.
>Every time she has visited you since the accident you ended up shouting at her.
“Just say what I need to know about keeping a pony or leave, please. I much rather be along.”
>Alone.
>Well, you have a slave now, not like you'll be alone again unless you sell that delicate pony you made cry and didn't even know the name of.
>”Fine.”
>You know exactly what type of 'fine' that was.
>”I'm leaving.”
>She only means well, you are an asshole and she doesn't have to deal with your shit.
>And you have put her under a lot stress with the whole accident anyway.
>A few seconds later you are left alone with an quietly sobbing pony. 


“So, uhh... what's your name?”
>Her sobs change a little, almost as if she had tried to speak.
“Can you stop crying?”
>She almost immediately begins holding her breath.
>You could feel her body convulse, with every suppressed sob.
“I didn't mean to hit you, honest. I'm bad ad judging where stuff is. I haven't mastered my blindness, you understand?”
>Cautiously you pet the small pony.
>No response came, but the twitches of her crying become more frantically.
“Sheesh, you can breath, okay? Err.. let yourself cry.”
>She didn't need to be told that twice as she begins to bawl out her eyes-
>god damnit, is there an eye metaphor around every corner?
>Anyway... Apparently there was a lot on that pony to make her cry.
>Well, she was ripped from her home and enslaved. And you take it she never really had the opportunity to cry herself out.
>With that you lift her up, and press her to your chest.
>God, she was thin – You could feel her ribs easily.
>Like a rag doll she didn't move to stop you from having done so.
>Her crying only got more intense as you try to comfort her, lightly patting her back, letting your fingers flow through her dirty hair.
>She reeks of stable.
>In general she didn't seem to be in a lousy condition.
>Your problems seem so small in comparison.
>And, while you wouldn't admit it, you like the fact that there are people worst of than you.
>Or ponies- whatever.
>The thought of increasing her suffering went through your skull.
>Yes, that would be nice.
>Make a snuff film for animal nightmare or the likes of the more fucked up deep web bullcrap.
>film...
>fuck
>How can you be so insensitive around blind people?
>You sigh again.
>No, of course you weren't going to do that.
>You're too good of a guy for that.
>You had twisted desires and impulses, but you know not to act upon them.
>It's what separates man from beast.
>Hopefully helping this pony feels good as well, and that you could eventually really use her as a seeing eye pony.


“Let yourself cry.”
>You repeat, while continuing to pet her.
>After a small while she even went in on the embrace and pushes herself into you.
>After a little longer while you start to feel majorly awkward about sitting on the floor with a crying pony in your arm you don't even know the name of.
>You weren't exactly in the position to just leave her as she is.
>I mean... you wear perfectly capable of dropping her immediately.
>She was your slave and you could treat her however you wanted.
>But you couldn't just leave her like that.
>You don't know a single thing about her, but caring for her is simply what a good person would do, wouldn't it?
>You never gave much thought into being a good person.
>After all, you had shitposted really fucked up stuff.
>But when it comes to a situation where you are actually have to make a decision.
>Being a nice guy at the cost of spending some awkward time
>Or being an utter ass.
>You know what you were doing.
>You simply let herself cry.
>...
>...
>Just how many tears can a pony of her size hold?
>Your shoulder was already soaked and you were getting more and more uncomfortable.
“Do you want some tissues?”
>You can only feel her nod.
>But as you try to remove yourself from her, she kept clinging to you.
“You-
>why are you pausing?
“You need to let go of me so I can bring you some.”
>”e-excuse me.”
>These were the first things she spoke to you.
>Her voice sounds so frail.
>Really, like coming from someone who can break at any given moment.
>Then again, she may be broken already.
>Being a slave and all that.
>Eventually she actually let's go of you and you set her down.
>Stumbling through the room you make it to your desk
>You sit down - your normal position
>You reach your hand out and grab it with your first try
>Your epic skills, make you swing around in your chair until your knee hits something...
>And you hear something fall over again.
>The crying resumed from it's small break with renewed vigor.

“NO!”
>She had followed you.
>And you hadn't paid attention to her.
>You had been so focused on trying to remember the position of every item on your desk that you disregarded your little pony.
>Your thoughtlessness will be the end of you, or someone else one day.
>Immediately you jump down and place the tissue box beside her.
>Or at least where you thought she was.
>Quickly reaching out to search for let your fingers meet with damp fur.
“You have to believe me, I don't do this on purpose.”
>More sniveling, but more controlled this time.
>”I know...”
>She actually managed to speak during all of this.
>You stand there helplessly, only petting her back as she moves around on her belly and reaches for the box to clean herself.
>You were so ashamed, you barely let yourself touch her.
>All you've done so far was punch your her twice and shout at your mom in front of her.
>What kind of person must she think you are?
>You know you had anger issues, especially after the accident.
>But that usually comes down to throwing mugs across the room.
>And you couldn't do that in a while because you couldn't clean them up yourself afterward.
>So you retreat your hand from the pony and simply sit in front of her, drifting off into thought.
>You shout at your mom, you think about bestiality not 2 minutes after being near a pony, you were reckless, a slave-puncher, and you don't think about how others are affected by your actions before you make them.
>You are far from the nice guy you claim yourself to be,
>Damaged goods inside, damaged goods outside.
>You can't flee in the world of a book, a movie, a videogame, or the internet anymore.
>Aaaand now's the time to take your anti-depressants, because you are suicidal again.
>You stand up and leave the pony alone, only walk over to the window you had been sitting on earlier and pop one of the pills with the two circles carved into the lid.
>Then you simply sit down again and place your forehead against the window.

>Be Fluttershy
>Your new master had left you while you try to control your sobbing. Trying to finally stop.
>The tissues helped
>His care helped.
>He is beating himself up  about your pain.
>Maybe it's because you instantly went limp and let yourself fall after being hit.
>That was your defense mechanism this past... you don't even know how much time has passed.
>Getting limp, and playing dead were your go to ways of keeping your previous masters from hitting you.
>It was in the instinct of every creature to not attack dead things.
>Your last masters reason for selling you was literally 'clubbing a wet ball of fur is more entertaining.”
>Your new master wasn't like that at all.
>He... actually cared?
>It didn't stop you from your muscle memory to start on his second hit.
>Well, he never really hit you. Both times it was an accident.
>The first time you were just afraid of the rough treatment as his first interaction with you, not yet having known him
>The second time it actually hurt, but it was more obviously an accident.
>You finally managed to stop crying and have gotten your face somewhat clean again when you look for your master.
>He was at the window again, in the almost exact same position as when you had entered with his mother.
>It doesn't exactly need your expertise with critters to see when an animal is in pain.
>He isolated himself. Almost as if he was about to get ready to die.
>You were too scared when Mistress was still here, but now you could observve him with anyone noticing you.
>Yes, he was in a lot of pain.
>Not from the scars that were clearly visible on his body, but from... everything else.
>The scars have barely healed and if you understood correctly it was that time when he lost his eyesight.
>A blind animal without someone to look after was as good as dead.
>And if you have understood correctly that was your job now.
>Taking care of master.
>You can't stand seeing any type of creature in pain.

>Be Anon again
>You snap out of your train of thought after you hear a quiet voice behind you mumble something
“Huh?”
>”M-my name is Fluttershy.”
>You look- no- you turn your head around to face in direction of the pony.
>”You a-”
>She pauses.
>”You asked for m-my name earlier.”
>You can't even remember asking her.
>Not knowing what to do you simply nod.
>Looking away again- or facing the window again would be rude so you wait for her to say something else
>But she didn't.
>Then you realize another point in which you have been rude.
“Uhh... I'm Anon, but I guess you've already heard that from my mom.”
>”I-I did.”
>There was an awkward silence again.
>You then could hear her step closer to you.
>On reflex you scoot away a bit, you don't want to accidentally send her flying again.
>As if on cue her hoof steps stop with your motion too.
>You try to relax your body, and lean back against the glass.
“So, what now?”
>She didn't answer.
>Of course she didn't answer.
>She's a slave, she probably learned not to command her master around.
>Master...
>You only know that word with kinky implications.
>You could always fuck her.
>That's about the only activity your brain could form of what a blind person can do.
>And it is what most people do with their slaves anyway.
>you wouldn't even have to feel the need to feel bad about it.
>But of course you would.
>It simply is in your beta genes
>You researched all kinds of knots for bdsm, but you wouldn't be able to fuck a slave.
>Slave roleplay is hot
>but if she actually was a slave
>You have problems, deep rooted problems.
>”Y-You keep on sighing, Master Anon.”
>You were?
“I wasn't  aware...”
>You turn your face away.
>Hah! You didn't think about looking- oh god damnit.
>”I-it's okay. Y-your mother bought me for you so I'd... I'd can help you with your daily life and-”
“I don't have a daily life.”
>You interrupt her.
“Not anymore.”

>She was quite taken aback by that, but didn't want to let you go.
>”To feel happy again you need to get a daily routing back, Master.”
>She takes a deep breath.
>”How about you take of y-your shirt I soiled you, a-and take a shower. C-clean your body.”
>You indeed were quite filthy. Not only from her crying on you, but also from not having taken care of yourself at all in a while.
>”A clean soul can only live in a clean body.”
>Is she a fortune cookie?
>”I-”
>You hear her gulp as she slowly continues.
>”I think you are in-”
>Say it.
>Do it faggot.
>”-in depression, Master.”
>The words came out of her mouth rapidly and almost incoherently, but you knew what she was about to say.
>She really stepped over a line of what you believe a slave is allowed to do and what not.
>You quickly think about if she deserves a punishment for that.
>But as she was holding her breath, seemingly waiting for you to hit her you could only do one thing.
>Agree with her.
“Yeah...”
>Your head goes to the window again.
>You don't need a therapist who tells you what you already know.
>And you certainly don't need  one who lives in your house.
>You'll have to return her.
>But for that you need to call your mother, whom you do not want to talk to.
>You have the paperwork, but you can't read shit on it.
>Didn't you just want to take care of that pony a few minutes ago?
>Are you fucking bipolar now too?
>You smash your hand on the windowsill, and stand up.
>Fluttershy made a sound like a squeaky toy as your hand hit the wood.
>You head to the bathroom, and begin to undress yourself on the way to it.
“You'll have to bathe later as well. Your hair is filthy, and your fur rough.”
>Insulting her felt somewhat good, a little bit like blowing off steam.
“You'll make us something to eat, while I'm in the bathroom, use whatever my mom bought.”
>She had been bought by your mom.
>You can't help but imagine a pony covered in whipped cream with a cherry on top.


>You took a long shower.
>You had to sort your thoughts... again.
>You readily commanded her to make something to eat.
>Were you so easily accepting of slavery that the moment you get a slave yourself you think it's okay to command them around?
>No, you only said that because she's malnourished and should eat.
>Yes, that is the conclusion gained from your 20 minutes shower.
>You do it for her.
>Now as to convince yourself.
>You leave the bathroom in only a fresh pair of underpants
>You already smell fresh cooked bacon.
>ahh...
>Don't get distracted, walk straight to your bedroom to search for pants and a shirt.
>You usually don't wear more than underpants in your house but it was winter, and you want to save heating cost.
>And you had a guest.
>No, you had a slave.
>You wonder how long you can keep it up to wear clothes every day.
>Then again, you already thought about getting rid of her.
>Not having to wear pants falls on that list as an important item now.
>You sigh again as you walk into the kitchen and search for a seat.
>You couldn't hear her work anymore, nor could you somehow sense where she was.
>Last thing you need is to run into her and send her crying again.
>Better walk slowly.
>Eventually you sit down at the kitchen table and turn your head around, perking your ears to hear what's going on.
>Scraping of ceramic on wood then gave you the indication of her pushing a plate toward you.
>”I made you two sandwiches. Both have m-meat from an pig.”
>”The first is h-ha-ham... with an boiled egg cut in pieces and some mayonnaise.
>”The second b-b-b-b-bacon! And cheese, with an barbecue sauce.”
“Uh... Sounds delicious. Thanks, Fluttershy.”
>You search out with your hand for the plate and it's tasty tasty contents.
>When you smell of fresh bacon directly from the source you think about Fluttershy again.
"What have you made yourself?"
>"I ahh-"
>She only provided for her master... so you slide her the plate with the other sandwich.
"Eat." 

>You take the first bite of a truly delicious sandwich.
“mmmh,~”
>It's like an orgasm in your mouth 
>Not like someone cumming in your mouth, but like...
>Bad train of thought, Anon.
>Swallowing doesn't come easy
>Anyway... You just found out she knows how to cook.
>You are so going to keep her.
>You take another bite without moaning into it again.
>This meal just got awkward.
>As you silently chew you perk your ears.
>It's not what you heard from her that unsettles you
>It's what you didn't hear.
“You're not eating.”
>”I'm sorry, Master. I'll eat.”
>Her voice was completely frail again.
>Damnit, she was on the verge of crying... again.
>Why would she-
>The ham...
>That's why she was almost unable to pronounce what she used to make the sandwiches.
“NO!”
>You shout out, trying to stop her.
>squeakytoy.mp3
“Don't eat the meat! You don't have to eat the meat.”
>You hear her softly whimpering again, but you hope it came from relieve, not just your outburst.
“I was-”
>Not thinking? Reckless? Your usual self without regard for another's feelings?
>You sigh and let the sandwich down to the table.
>Any appetite you had was gone, no matter how delicious it had been
>You think about returning to your window, but it just seemed rude.
>As if you have any social obligations to a slave species.
>Can't you just be the bad guy? Even for a second?
>You face away, drawn to your window.
“Make yourself something. Something a pony would think is tasty. I don't care what.”

>You sit at the table, listening to Fluttershy cook something for herself.
>Every minute she felt the need to asks if it was okay to use another ingredient
>And every time you told her a different version of 'It's okay' or 'I don't care'
>It was annoying, and with each new question your rebuke got louder, as her next question got quieter.
>Eventually the next thing she said was inaudible.
“Goddamnit, Fluttershy. I said I don't care what you eat. I just- You felt really thin, okay?”
“I don't want my property to be starving to death.”
>You don't exactly know why you empathized 'property' in that way, or why you were mean to her in general.
>Well... you do know.
>It's that damn helpful nature and cautious approach she, and everyone else for that matter, has towards you.
>Aww, poor cripple, gotta treat him like a raw egg who can break at any given moment.
>...
>Well, you do /explode/ at any given moment, but it's just...
>...
>You just want to be alone, sulk in your depression, and not hurt anyone in a fit of bi-polar anger.
>You have to give her away, or you'll just hurt her.
“I'm sorry if I hurt you. I'm sorry if I act like a child and not think about anyone's feelings while doing so.”
>Your apology came out monotone, and not at all sincere.
>It was a standard phrase you've learned and it usually pisses of people even more.
>You know that.
>That's self destructive behavior, isn't it?
>You know that too.
>You don't need a roommate who shows you all your hypocrisy every 5 minutes.
“I'm going to return you, then you'll be save from-”
>”No...”
>You were interrupted by another squeaky sound that somehow reminded you of a 'no'
“Huh?”
>She gasps for air and keeps quiet.
>...
>Was she... Was she holding her breath?
“Breath, Fluttershy.”
>Again a gasp, this time one for air.
>You have no idea what you should make of her.
>Her behavior is just... weird.
>On one hand she seemingly want's to be a good slave and try to follow your orders as good as she could.
>On the other she calls you out on your depression and even interrupts you to disagree with you.
>And whenever she does so she was totally aware she stepped over a line for someone in a position like hers.
“What's on your mind?”

>Be Fluttershy
>Be with the nicest human you have ever met.
>Your new master.
>And he wants to give you back, because he thinks he hurt you.
>While he did hurt, gets loud easily and seems to have a temper, he always apologizes.
>You don't want to go back.
>Not to the others.
>Not just the other masters you have had, but also the other ponies you met.
>They knew who you were.
>Word had spread about the Elements of Harmony
>And the ponies were so keen on having a scapegoat, one who wouldn't even fight back.
>When the slave master at the shop noticed how they were beating you up you were simply placed into some cell out of reach from the others hooves.
>But not from their words... or their spit.
>You don't want to go back...
>You want to stay with Master Anon.
>Tears well up in your eyes again as you walk around the kitchen table and place your head in his lap.
“Please, Don't send me away, Master. Please- please. I- I'll do whatever you want. I- I-”
>Everything you wanted to say dies down once again in a stream of tears.
>He had to keep you.
>You couldn't go back.
>You were at your breaking point.
>You had simply hoped to die, when every day was worse than the day before.
>Just to escape the suffering
>They didn't even let you sleep to escape.
>You can't take it any longer.
>You had to stay with Master, or you would...
>you would...
>...
>You would kill yourself.
>Yes..
>You'd strive for salvation through the sweet, sweet release of death.
>But there is this shimmer of hope.
>Staying with Master Anon.
>He was so nice.
>It's almost as if he treated you like a real person.
>You didn't even notice when he had crouched down to hug you.
>Neither do you notice you were ruining his fresh shirt again.
>All you felt right now was Master's warmth.
>His sweet embrace.
>His promise to keep you.
>Even though you haven't had many tears left as you already cried for a long time earlier.
>But you cried.
>You cried until you had no more energy left in your body to convulse from lack of tears
>You eventually fell asleep.

>When you wake up again you find yourself on a bath towel in a bed.
>You were somewhat cleaned, but you could feel dried tears and snot on your muzzle.
>As you look around the room you realize it must be Master's bedroom.
>It was spacious, but lacked a personal touch.
>Too much negative space, something you already noticed in his living room.
>Bed, closet, bookshelf, and a nightstand with a lamp and an alarm clock reading 4:22am
>For a moment you think about going back to sleep, but why wouldn't master be in his bed?
>Because you were.
>He didn't have a place for you prepared where you could sleep.
>That's why he gave you his own bed.
>You fell asleep, and he sacrificed his own sleeping quarters for you.
>You move out of bed, and instinctively try to spread your wings to preen after sleeping.
>Yet they were restrained by the harness you still wore.
>You don't mind it so much. You never really were a flier to begin with.
>The door to what you presume to be the living room was open.
>In the darkness you couldn't make out a lot of details, only the lack thereof
>After you step outside it didn't take you long to spot your master.
>His silhouette was visible on the window.
>The same window you had first seen him.
>No light was on, so he was probably sleeping- no. of course he wouldn't need light...
“M-master?”
>You cautiously ask, in case he was asleep.
>And indeed he was.
>Or so you assume, as he didn't answer, nor make any sign of having heard you.
>Without anything else to do you chose to approach him closer, and try to take in his appearance from the dim streetlights outside.

>He wasn't wearing the sunglasses he had worn when you had arrived.
>They had been replaced by a bandage around his head
>It looked almost like a blindfold, were it not for the residue of some healing salve glistering on his face.
>You never thought of a humans appearance, and the scars certainly didn't qualify him as handsome.
>But still, you'd like to believe that he had been at one point, and that he could, once the worst contusions have healed.
>You right yourself up on your hindlegs and support yourself on the windowsill with your forelegs to be more on his height.
>Now you notice he had a book in hand.
>At first glance you think it was blank, but it actually had small bumps in it.
>You had no idea what kind of book was like that...
>Was he feeling for something?
>Humans' fingertips were very sensitive, you know that, and if there is a pattern in the book...
>...book...
>Did humans have some sort of bump-code system-thingy for blind humans to read?
>Humans were truly astonishing creatures, you know that.
>Even though you had all reasons to hate them, you cannot deny their ingenuity.
>Their efficiency driven culture.
>It was entire disharmonious, but at some level you can respect it.
>You think about discord for a second and wonder what happened to him.
>No.
>You cannot let yourself fall into the trap of thinking about your friends again.
>Without them...
>Tears well up in your eyes again.
“Oh Fluttershy...”
>You rebuke yourself.
>What matters now is the future and how to make it as good as possible.
>Master promised to keep you, yet so far you have not given him any reason to.
>You only cooked for him, but you also cried your soul out to him.
>He must be annoyed by you to say the least.
>You must find a way to make him want to keep you.
>You take the book in your mouth and set it aside, then go to search for a blanket.
>Only after you have covered him to your best ability, you look around the room again until your eyes fall into the kitchen.

>Only after you have covered him to your best ability, you look around the room again until your eyes fall into the kitchen.
>Your stomach grumbles.
>You haven't even noticed how hungry you were.
>And you don't know when was the last time you ate.
>The meal you had been preparing was still on the kitchen counter.
>You had made a mess, and didn't clean up after yourself.
>You had gone to cry to Master Anon.
>Your embarrassment makes your stomach convulse.
>This was again a habit you picked up from your time with your previous masters.
>You don't do well, you don't get food.
>So the ache in your belly actually makes you not want to eat right now.
>But Master ordered you to.
>He said you felt thin and he didn't want his property to starve to death.
>Of course...
>You had been a present.
>Would he throw you away he wouldn't honor his mother's gift.
>On the other hoof... he didn't seem to be on the best of terms with his mother.
>You gulp.
>Master might return you just to spite his mother.
>You had to do your best.
>He was the best master you've had by far.
>You don't want to go back.
>You don't want to risk getting another master who'd treat you like a simple plaything.
>This master, he even thought of you as a living thing with feelings he don't want to hurt.
>It had been so long since someone cared for you.
>It had been so long since you've known a gentle touch.
>You probably wouldn't even mind if he were to do... lewd things to you.
>Your hindlegs shift a little.
>You gaze out of the kitchen toward him.
“Master Anon...”
>You whisper his name, just wanting to know how it rolls of your tongue.
“Master Anon.”
>You say again with a little more confidence and notice yourself smile.
>But then you shake your head violently.
>You were almost done preparing your food fully and having cleaned up the kitchen proper.
>At least as proper as you could do in the darkness.

>You look up again and a realization struck you like a train.
>He wouldn't have awoken from you switching on the light.
>Master is blind.
>You quiver.
>How could you be so insensitive to your Masters needs and challenges that you forget something like that?
>You usually are so careful. Always have been.
>Weren't you the Element of Kindness?
>Has this human world robbed you of your element? A part of your being?
>Tears well up in your eyes again.
>The Elements have been a symbol of your friendship with... with...
>You sniff and blink back tears.
>Not again.
>You couldn't cry again.
>Nonono, the six of you were still friends, even if you had lost your Element.
>But had you changed that much? Enough to lose it?
>Would your friends still accept you if you had changed that much?
>Does it even matter? You won't see them ever again.
>Especially Rainbow.
>Your oldest friend.
>She was too resilient.
>Impossible to train.
>She had most likely been...
>Most likely been ...
>Tears were streaming down your face again.
>Silently you break down and cower yourself in a corner in the kitchen.
>Your mind was as clear as it was blank, a single thought occupies your brain now.
>Rainbow Dash had most likely been killed.
>Most likely.
>There is still some hope, isn't there?
>WHAT HOPE IS THERE?!?
>You scream inside your head.
>You don't know if it is echoing, or if you simply repeat these two sentences.
>'Rainbow Dash had most likely been killed' and 'what hope is there?'
>Again you were trapped in your own thoughts with no means to escape.
>Even though you had just slept earlier, you still hadn't eaten.
>Without any energy to begin with you wept yourself to sleep again.
>You had a nightmare about a deceased Rainbow Dash flying away from you
>She claims you were no longer her friend, because the human world broke you, because you had changed.
>She had rather died than let herself be broken, than change and betray her friends like that.

>Be [spoiler]thankfully not a melodramatic cream colored pony, but an[/spoiler] Anon.
>You wake up with your back hurting slightly – you must have slept in an awkward position.
>As you stretch yourself, and try to open your-
>A sharp pain soars through your head going out from your eyes, quickly followed by his brethren, an army of tiny needles.
“Ahh... fuck.”
>You fall.
>Wat?
>You land painfully on the floor.
“Uhhhh...”
>Too much pain.
>But at least you were awake now and could hear the hooves of Mephistopheles himself draw closer to collect you.
“Oh fuck, no, please, I know way more deserving peop-”
>”Master Anon!”
>That's not at all what you imagined his voice would be like, nor were those the words you expected him to speak.
>You were now laughing to yourself for your first assumption about who your little pony slave might be, but quickly stop.
>Pain ain't funny.
>Mephishy however is.
>At the same time you were crawling on all fours and tap around to figure out where you are, and how you get to your meds.
>Fluttershy was doing her best squeaky-toy impression again
>You wonder what she might think of you in a situation like that
“Fluttershy? Where are you? Come here.”
>”Y-yes, Master?”
>Her hooves draw nearer.
>You reach out to her, this time lower to only be stopped by her chest.
>She flinched back, but at least she wasn't crying. So you count that as a success.
“Where am I?”
>”Uhh... y-your home, Master. I-I'm afraid I don't quite understand the question.”
“No, err... Where in relation to my medications am I?”
>”Oh.. uhm...”
>You take her movement as she was looking around.
>Your hands go up her body; You slightly run your fingers through her filthy coat where it wasn't covered by straps of the harness she wears,
>Again she retreats back, and if it was only by a fraction of an inch, you noticed.
>She's wearing a collar as well.
>You hadn't noticed that particular feature when you had let her cry in your arms yesterday.

>“M-Master.”
>Her voice is squirming now.
>”Your medication is on the windowsill here, let me get them for you.”
>Seemingly eager o leave your touch she does as said and goes to pick up the meds..
>The windowsill... yes, now you know where you are again, how you've come to fall after waking up.
>There is also the reason as to why you weren't sleeping in your own bed as well.
>You had put Fluttershy there after she exhausted herself by crying...
“Have you eaten yet, Fluttershy?”
>Before answering she puts the box with your med-cocktail on the floor before you.
>You reach for it and take it in your hand.
>You are getting better at estimating where things are with only your ears.
>”Yes, I have eaten the meal I had prepared yesterday for myself...”
>She sounds frail – was that shame?
>You chose to let it be for the time being.
”Can you bring me a glass of water to down these as well?”
>”Yes, of course, Master...”
>She walks away.
>Being called master was freaking weird.
>You feel bad ordering her around like that, but wasn't that the purpose of a slave? The purpose why your mom bought her for you to begin with?
>You sigh.
>There were too many thoughts in your head at once.
>You don't know a pony diet, you know how it had turned out yesterday when you attempted to feed her ham without thinking.
>Then you don't know where she should sleep. She spent the night in your own bed. But you don't own anything else which can serve as a bed. And you don't want her to have to sleep on the couch.
>There was also the fact that her episode yesterday where she wouldn't stop crying because you touched her roughly means she has quite some issues.
>And you had your own issues to deal with.
>You don't want anyone to take car of you. You moved out early from home because you were sick of having to depend on someone else.
>Your train of thought comes to an halt when Fluttershy's hoofsteps draw closer again.
>”Master, y-your water.”
“Thanks.”

>You pick your meds out from the box and down them with the water glass she had brought you.
>Wait-
>How the hell does a pony carry a glass of water?
>It's probably magnets.
>After it is done you don't know what next.
>Does having a pony slave means you can no longer sit at a window and wallow in your own self pity?
>It feels pretty wrong doing so.
>You need to remind you that she is property, and not a guest whom you need to be a good host for.
>As so often in the past few weeks you sigh, and then take another sip from the water.
>You guess you could let her make you breakfast. She has proven to know how to cook after all.
>But commanding her around...
>You don't want a slave.
>You are against that slavery to begin with, and now you're one of the guys contributing to the statistic of people who own slaves.
>Who's more pro-slave than an actual slave owner?
>You're pro-gun even though you don't own one.
>You always wanted one... but you figure, especially now you would be one lousy shooter.
>Yet another sigh escapes your lips.
>”M-Master Anon?”
“Hmm?”
>“Are you not feeling well?”
“You mean besides the pain from the hole in my head? Just thinking, I guess.”
>”Oh... Okay.”
>She wasn't moving away.
>Probably standing at attention to any command you'd give her.
>She's a wreck from her previous owners, but obedience doesn't seem to be her problem.
>You sigh again after having made the decision on what to do next.
“Fluttershy, come closer. Place your muzzle in my hands.”
>You put your hand before you, palms up for her to do as you asked.
>She hesitates, but soon does as you had ordered.
>You begin to feel her up and get a sense of her facial features, texture of her coat and... some scar tissue.
>Two inch long from her jawbone back, that must have just missed her artery. It was quite narrow too...
>Has someone cut her intentionally? Threatened her life?
>You can feel her pulse getting faster.
>"Master?"
"Hmm?"

>”nothing...”
>That word was barely audible, and, as anyone could tell, entirely dishonesst.
>You didn't quite know why she wasn't telling you what she had wanted to.
>Hmm...
>You go back to feeling out for her features.
>There was another scar – no multiple scars – right behind her right ear..
>Well... left ear. Right only from your frame of reference.
>The scars were circular, and pretty much at the same spot.
>You know what they were, of course, you have had a set of the same, but they thankfully faded.
>You had at least been able to flee, but the pony before you has had no other choice, but to serve as an ashtray for her Master.
>Your fingers circle around the marks.
>Cigarette burns... and on her head of all places.
>At a spot where one would caress a cat, and you figure is a sweet spot for most mammals.
>People can be cruel...
>“W-What are you doing?”
>She was quivering,, her voice made her emotions quite clear.
>She was afraid of you right now.
>But she didn't dare to interrupt you or defy your order.
>As her Master you had ordered her to let you touch her.
>While it was an odd command, you wanted to know what she.. looks like?
>Is 'how she looks like' the right term in this case?
>You are looking for her features after all.
>And you have hated the phrase 'you look with your eyes, not with your hands' whenever one likes to observe an item, and the owner doesn't want you touching it.
>Through touch you gain so much more insight into the nature of the object than with your eyes along.
>Now you had no other choice but to use your hands.
>With your hands you learn about the texture, how rough or smooth a surface is. You can judge it's weight, and therefore it's density. While with your eyes you can only observe it's dimensions.
>And while you could see a lot of features, you never really have to pay attention to them, as you can always see them.

>You want to know the features again? Simply look at it again.
>But if you have observed it with your hands, you will know and be able to remember it much easier.
“I'm taking a look at you, Fluttershy. I- want to see in what condition my property is, after all.”
>”Oh...”
>You don't really know why you had added that last part.
>Maybe it's because you are just not a nice person.
>Bullshit like that just happens to slip out of your mouth, and you insult the people around you.
>Not that you'd intentionally wanted to hurt someone, or are even good at it on rare occasions.
>But your thoughtless words have often  caused you regret.
>You  simply hurt people.
>Yet again you sigh.
>Your hands were still on her neck.
“Do you want me to stop?”
>”No, of  course not, Master. I- I can see why you'd want to do that.”
>You know her words were be bullshit, but if you have her permission.
>You remove your hands anyway.
>Even though that permission is based on fear you'd do something bad  to her if she doesn't comply with your wishes.
“You don't have to, Fluttershy. I noticed you shaking in fear.”
“If you don't want to be touched, I'll understand, and won't hurt you for it.”
>She whimpered at that.
>She probably wasn't used to having her opinion asked.
>Or, if so, you figure she had been drilled to say exactly what her master want's to hear..
>Voicing an opinion which doesn't comply with her masters intentions might have lead to punishment.
>You hate humanity for you to come to such an conclusion so quickly.
>”I understand, Master. It's...”
>This time it was her turn to sigh.
>”P-Please, be gentle.”

>That was awkward, and made you question if it was still a good idea to feel up her body against her will.
>And lingering on the issue longer only makes it more awkward.
>You put your hands on her again.
>Gently petting her head, avoiding the burn marks.
“Hey, Don't worry, alright? I won't hurt you, I promise... at least not intentionally.”
>She leans her head into you. You don't know if it's a sign of understanding, or if she likes you petting her.
>Either way you like that small initiative she shows and move with one hand down her neck to the collar while the other stays up to caress her ear.
>”mhm..”
>She does make a small sound of affection now, so you keep your left hand at her ear as you check the collar.
>Hmm... batteries?
>So it's a shock collar then.
>The batteries were probably similar to mobile phone ones.
>You know those are 3.7 or 4.2 Volts
>with 8 batteries we can guesstimate 32 Volts.
>Head calculations... Let's say her neck has an resistance of 1600 Ohm, it's the neck, which may easily be sweaty, from the leather collar alone
>Heck, she's even sweaty at her neck right now, and you don't imagine she's in a stressful scenario right now
>At least you hope she's not in distress because of you.
>1600 divided by 32... 
>The collar can shock her for an approximate 20 mA,
>margins are uhh... 1, 3, 15, 80 – notice, pain, cramp, dead
>For the human body from hand to hand at least, but you don't imagine her cellular muscle structure to differ a lot from an human.
>”Master?”
“Hmm?”
>You had stopped petting her as you were lost in thought.
>”You're smiling.”
>You stop immediately.
>Had you really been smiling at the thought of Fluttershy being electrocuted?
“I was just thinking...”
>Change of topic.
>You attempt to remove the collar, but find it to be secured with a lock.
“Do you know it my mom has left a key for this?”
>"There was one with the leash on the kitchen counter with the groceries she had brought, Master."

>A leash?
>Like hell you'd walk her around with a lea-
>Oh well, maybe she would guide you with it.
>But not with this collar.
>You were going to get another one.
>...
>Isn't a collar super degrading?
>She's wearing a harness too, it's probably quite easy to mod a hook for a leash on it.
“Would you get the key?”
>The co-collar is a s-symbol of my standing as a– as a slave, Master. I'd rather not impose-”
“Are you disobeying me? I ordered you to get the key.”
>You cringe internally at yourself at your words.
>She gives a small whine at them too, and leaves your touch without confirming your command.
>You're not a master, you don't want to be, and yet...
>It's for her own good to have the collar off, is it not?
>Now you are the one implying to be knowing what's best for another sentient being.
>Implying that she doesn't know better.
>Implying you were better than her, and the enslavement was justified for the greater good or some shit.
>Greentext, greater than, implying intensifies
>Her hooves draw near again as you had finally settled on the floor comfortably.
>At the sound approaching you open the palm of your right hand for her to drop the key in, which she does.
“I'll get you another collar if you want to keep it as a symbol, or an harness where you'll not be yanked at your neck if you'll eventually lead me around.”
“I don't see another reason why I would keep you at a leash, you seem quite well behaved.”
“And, uhh... good behavior should be rewarded, don't you think?”
>”It's...”
>She pauses as you begin to fiddle with the lock of her collar.
>Silently letting you work on it.
>Yep... you have troubles finding a hole you want to penetrate with your key, just as expected.
>No, bad brain.
>Only after you unlock it Fluttershy speaks again.
>“I have n-not been a good slave for you to give me such freedom”
>She sniffs.
>“I-I hesitate, I object your orders, and I-I even insulted you.”
>Oh no, she's about to cry again.

“Please don't cry, Fluttershy.”
>You gently run your fingers through her mane and down her now exposed neck.
“Hey, you're not a robot. You're a living, feeling pony. And I'll treat you with the respect one should have for all creatures, alright?”
>Except insects. Every annoying fly and mosquito less in the world is good.
>That is if they do not serve as a food source for the rest of the ecosystem...
“I mean... if you want to cry you are allowed to do so, but I really don't mean you ill will.”
“You've been a good sl- a good pony, Fluttershy.”
>You go back and forth between ordering her around and comforting her about being a slave, and that she could do what she wanted.
>Check your priorities, slave owning cis-scum..
>With your hand on her you can feel her shaking her head.
>”I w-w-won't cry, M-master. I won't be a bother to you.”
>Her voice has gotten very weak again. She even needed three attempts to bring out 'won't'.
“You're not a bother. You're-”
>What exactly was she to you?
“You're something I can focus my mind on. I mean- you saw me yesterday? You even called me out on depression.”
>”I'm so sorry about that- I didn't know what came over me. I just- I saw you to be in pain, and-”
>Oh so that's what she had meant about 'insulting you' earlier. That she called out on your depression.
“I know I'm in depression. Bad enough that I have some on-demand happy-pills, next to the ones I need to take in the morning.”
>You reach for the box and rattle it.
>In reality you developed a habit medical pure drugs, because you don't have enough problems already.
“I think we both have things to gain from our relationship, psychologically speaking.”
>Nothing better than a companion who can't run away from you on the note that she'll be executed or forced into a labor camp.
>Meh, beggars can't be choosers.
>She's stuck with you.

>And you with her, but  you're not a beggar.
>Technically you never asked for this and wanted to be alone to wallow in your self pity.
>Heck you even wanted to get rid of her so you can continue to do that, and only felt bad because of the things that might happen to her if you actually do decide to give her back.
>Nothing better than add one person to her record of having wanted to get rid of her for some reason, increasing the chance of labor camp/death.
>Your hands then trail further down to her harness.
>It to you seek to undo and fiddle with the straps for a bit.
“Your coat might have been soft at one point, but I think you need a shower to rinse off the first layer of dirt and then a nice long bubble bath, what do you say?”
>”You want me to be clean for you, M-master?”
>Her body shifts as you undress her.
“Yes, uhh... don't you want to be clean?”
>”F-for you... Yes-Yes, I'll wash myself.”
>You hear her snuffle, but could feel her nod.
>The harness comes off and you shift around her a little to have better access to her side.
>She better not have much more scars, or you'll get increasingly sad.
>But there was almost no chance of the rest of her body being flawless.
>Your hands trail down- what the-?
“You're a pegasus!”
>This came as quite a surprise to you.
>You have heard of pony pegasuses (or pegasi?) before, but so far have had no hint of her being one.
>”Y-Yes, I-I am.”
>Again she snuffles, as if starting to cry soon again.
>You wonder what's wrong with her now.
>But you wonder more about how a creature with an uneven number of limb pairs works.
>Your hands go from her forelegs up, so far everything seems normal.
>Shoulder bone, check.
>You know horses had no clavicles, a bit of trivia you picked up at one point.
>You never wondered how that works though...
>However the mystery of wings was more pressing right now.

>Both shoulder bones only connect to the back of her rib cage.
>Going down the spine you had no troubles counting her vertebra.
>Her spine must be clearly... well, visible, just from how thin she is.
>Plus horses seem to have a really pointy spine.
>Then again, an actual horse to ride on must have proper back muscles.
>Fluttershy... not so much.
>Anyways... you come to two strangely conjoined vertebra the rips going out of them fere almost a flat bone, but you could feel them not being together via bone, but cartilage.
>Your subject of investigation squirms, and her wings snap open.
>Instinct? Or what was that?
“I'm not hurting you, am I?”
>”N-no. It's just... It's a sensitive spot for pegasi.”
>So the plural  is pegasi; the more you know.
“Ahh. Okay. I just... want to know how your wings work. We don't have pegasi  in our world. Well...  we haven't had them.”
>About an inch away from the vertebra was another flat, shoulder-like bone on both sides.
>Underneath it the rips separate again and go further down.
>Back to the wing joint. It was a ball joint, obviously.
>With both your hands you feel the way up both her wings.
>Your fingers slightly sliding over the thin skin over what would be the humerus, if it were an arm.
>You hit a bump on her left wing...
>One that wasn't present on the right side.
>Fluttershy winces.
>Your mind goes somewhat blank at that, and you carefully go over that area.
>The bone continues at a slight angle afterwards...
>The area where bends was mushy around it.
“Fluttershy... I think your wing's broken.”
“You have not been treated, but at least the wing was still under the harness. The area is quite swollen, it might be infected as well...”
“You need to get to an doctor.”

>Be Fluttershy
>“I'm taking a look at you, Fluttershy. I- want to see in what condition my property is, after all.”
”Oh...”
>Master's touching your gace, traces his fingers along your muzzle and head.
>And he wants to touch you all over.
>His gentle touch, you  don't know if...
>“Do you want me to stop?”
>Your heart skips a beat.
>Does he want to stop?
>No, he can't stop, you've yearned for a gentle touch for so long
”No, of  course not, Master. I- I can see why you'd want to do that.”
>Your hindlegs shift slightly as you try to hide any emotion in your worde.
>He removes his hands.
>“You don't have to, Fluttershy. I noticed you shaking in fear.”
>T-That wasn't fear.
>These words didn't manage to escape your lips.
>“If you don't want to be touched, I'll understand, and won't hurt you for it.”
>No, please, t-touch me.
>All that came out of you was a whimper.
>You had to collect yourself before you were able to form words.
”I understand, Master. It's...”
>You sigh. What can you say to make him continue?
”P-Please, be gentle.”
>You close your eyes to wait for Masters hands again.
>Yet he lingers.
>Why wouldn't he touch you?
>Then you feel his hands on you again.
>You put your hands on her again.
>It's as if a weigh has been lifted of you as he was petting your head, now seemingly going around the burns on your head
>“Hey, Don't worry, alright? I won't hurt you, I promise...”
>He'd never hurt you.
>“at least not intentionally.”
>You lean your head in his hands
>As one hand trails down to your collar, his other one stays at your ear massaging your scalp right behind it.
”mhm..”
>You let out a small hum. It feels so good, You want to melt into his touch and feel him more.
>Again you shift your hindlegs slightly.
>Would this lead to...
>Probably not.
>Master said he only wanted to estimate the damage on his property.
>His hands come to an rest though, and you open your eyes to look at him
”Master?”
>He was smiling. You hadn't seen him smile before.
>“Hmm?”
”You're smiling.”
>You simply state, unsure of what exactly you wanted to say, but you want him to continue petting you.
>“I was just thinking...”
>You wonder what about, but it wasn't a slaves place to question their Master.
>He attempts to remove the collar, but you know the key required for it was-
>“Do you know it my mom has left a key for this?”
"There was one with the leash on the kitchen counter with the groceries she had brought, Master."
>You realize you had just formed a long coherent sentence without stuttering.
>This hasn't happen since you've been to this world.
>Until now that is...
>“Would you get the key?”
>He really want's to remove it?
“The co-collar is a s-symbol of my standing as a– as a slave, Master.
>You want to be /his/ slave.
“I'd rather not impose-”
>“Are you disobeying me? I ordered you to get the key.”
>You cringe internally your words.
>Giving a small whine at yourself, and quickly leave his touch 
>You were so ashamed of yourself.
>You need to be a good slave for Master.
>He had wondered yesterday about returning you...
>And he's checking your body for damages.
>If he finds out about your wing...
>You shudder at the thought of what he might to.
>Maybe he doesn't want damaged goods.
>He already knows your mind has taken quite the toll, enough so to consider yourself damaged.
>You need to be good.
>You need to be good.
>When you return with the key you repeat it as a mantra in your head
>He had his palm open and you drop the key inside
>“I'll get you another collar if you want to keep it as a symbol, or an harness where you'll not be yanked at your neck if you'll eventually lead me around.”
>You nod. He needs the help. You need to be on your best behavior.
>“I don't see another reason why I would keep you at a leash, you seem quite well behaved.” 

>You? Well behaved? After all you did?
>“And, uhh... good behavior should be rewarded, don't you think?”
>No, it was the other way around.
”It's...”
>He begins to unlock the collar on your neck and you stay silent for the duration.
>Bad ponies need to be punished. Only good ones get to eat, sleep, and have some rest.
“I have n-not been a good slave for you to give me such freedom”
>You sniff as tears well up in your eyes again.
“I-I hesitate, I object your orders, and I-I even insulted you.”
>“Please don't cry, Fluttershy.”
>He grazes over you again.
>Your mane and wound neck.
>You almost feel the sparks of the collar on you again, but way weaker.
>Only a tingling sensation. Not something you had ever felt at the touch of another.
>not pony, and certainly not human.
>“Hey, you're not a robot. You're a living, feeling pony.”
>You have no idea what a robot is.
>“And I'll treat you with the respect one should have for all creatures, alright?”
>Yes. Yes! Kindness.
>A basic pillar of harmonious coexistence of all living beings.
>“I mean... if you want to cry you are allowed to do so, but I really don't mean you ill will.”
>“You've been a good sl- a good pony, Fluttershy.”
>He sees you as a pony? Not just as a slave?
”I w-w-won't cry, M-master. I won't be a bother to you.”
>By now you'd rather cry of happiness than of sadness
>“You're not a bother. You're-”
>He pauses
>“You're something I can focus my mind on. I mean- you saw me yesterday? You even called me out on depression.”
”I'm so sorry about that- I didn't know what came over me.”
>You had been so rude
“I just- I saw you to be in pain, and-”
>He interrupts you.
>“I know I'm in depression. Bad enough that I have some on-demand happy-pills, next to the ones I need to take in the morning.”
>He rattles with the box you had brought him earlier.

>You know human medicine was amazing, but pills to make you happy?
>This was wrong. A pill can't give you real happiness, but if humans assume them to be, there's another piece in the human puzzle as to why they live in such disharmony, even among themselves.
>“I think we both have things to gain from our relationship, psychologically speaking.”
>You look up surprised.
>A r-r-relationship? He really plans to make you his?
>His hands begin to move again until they reach the harness that restrain your wings, and keep your broken one still.
>“Your coat might have been soft at one point, but I think you need a shower to rinse off the first layer of dirt and then a nice long bubble bath, what do you say?”
>This sounds much better than being hosed down.
”You want me to be clean for you, M-master?”
>Dirt was quite the turn off. You also rather lay with someone who was clean
>“Yes, uhh... don't you want to be clean?”
>Of course not!
”F-for you... Yes-Yes, I'll wash myself.”
>You snuffle, trying to see if you reek, but were probably unaware of your own odor as you had gotten accustomed to it.
>You then nod as he finishes unstrapping the harness.
>It's as if he wants to get you naked as soon as possible, all the while staying gentle and making sure he won't hurt you.
>Oh no... your wing. It could ruin everything.
>Your eyes widen as he moves around you  to have better access to your side
>His hand feel down your spine and side until they bump into your wing.
>You flinch in pain and hear master say in surprise:
>“You're a pegasus!”
>He didn't know?
>”Y-Yes, I-I am.”
>This time you force back some tears again with the pain that jolted through your body as he had hit your wing, unintentionally hard.
>But there was also an emotinal reason which made it hard for you to tell him you're a pegasus.
>You have no real hope of ever flying again.
>In silence you let him feel up your forelegs and shoulder.
>The nice tingling sensation had died down as you were so much in thought.
>But as he goes down your spine it returns full force and made you squirm.
>As he hits the base of your wings you couldn't even help, but snap them open.
>You squirm. The situation only was a little less awkward because humans don't know what that reaction meant for you.
>“I'm not hurting you, am I?”
”N-no. It's just... It's a sensitive spot for pegasi.”
>Sensitive wasn't even a lie. It was an erotic spot.
>“Ahh. Okay. I just... want to know how your wings work. We don't have pegasi  in our world. Well...  we haven't had them.”
>He continues to trail his fingers down, getting closer to your wings.
>You do your best to keep breathing calmly, from arousal and the pulsating pain in your wing.
>He goes around the wings and underneath them.
>W-What a tease! Simply abandoning your lewd spots to circle around them.
>But then he goes for your wings, trailing up and getting closer to the source of the pain
>Then he hit it, and you wince in pain.
>Your mind reeling from pleasure and pain
>“Fluttershy... I think your wing's broken.”
>You nod absentmindedly.
>He knew now.
>What good is a pegasus with a broken wing?
>“You have not been treated, but at least the wing was still under the harness. The area is quite swollen, it might be infected as well...”
>“You need to get to an doctor.” 

>Be Anon
>A warm sensation starts to spread from the back of your head, making it's way through your body and slowly disperses.
>It wasn't pleasant.
>It's  like getting goosebumps, or feeling cold for no apparent reason but having thought about coldness.
>There is only one feeling you could attribute to it.
>Anger.
>You clench your fist on Fluttershy's back, grasping some of her coat ungently.
>It's not her that you are angry with, but with whomever had done this to her.
“You need to still your wing again. I don't know if I have the capabilities to help you without causing you more pain until you get to an doc.”
>”M-Master. It's okay, I have been living with it for...”
“How long, Fluttershy?”
>She squeaks.
>”I ..”
>She is saying stuff but you have no chance to understand her mumbling.
“How long?
>She gulps.
>She was afraid again.
>...of you.
“I'm sorry, I-”
>”I was never much of a flyer...”
>She begins in a sad tone.
>”... and I couldn't since I had come to this world.”
>”I lost track of time... I simply never counted days.”
>Amazingly she spoke without stuttering a single time.
>But what she said only clenches down on your heart
>You let go of her.
“I understand...”
>It took you a while to remember what you had wanted to do until you stand u-
>uuuhhhh...bad circulation
>Well, at least your vision goes ass shit when you stand up with bad circulation anymore.
>Leaning against the window you pause for a second, until you shake your head, pat down the window and align yourself to walk to your desk to grab your mobile phone.
>You pick it up and pause again.
>How the hell are you going to find a pony doctor in your condition?
>Uhhh.... Bernie.
>Now as to know where in your contacts he is...
“Fluttershy? Come here for a second. I mean, if-  if that's okay with you with your wing and all.”
>You hear her approach, and have to wonder just what had she been thinking after you stood up and walked over to your desk, abandoning her where she stood.
>”What can I do for you, Master?”
>You estimate where her head is and lean down to support your upper body on your knees, phone at hand.
“I'm going through my contact list. Can you say stop when I reach a Bernard?”
>You explain the plan to her.
“You know how to read english, right?”
>”Y-yes.”
>Now you wonder why she does so, but that's an issue for another time.
“Okay.”
>You start scrolling down.
>Internally you have some shame for not having to have contacted him since the accident.
>He doesn't even know.
>And now this only gets worse as you have to have the confrontation.
>”Stop, it's there.”
>Stopping as she said you hover your finger over the screen.
>”Where exactly?”
>Your finger keeps over the screen, slowly moving from the upper side down.
>”Stop.”
>You touch the screen and assume his contact file has opened up, then hit to dial him.
“Thanks Fluttershy, you are a dear.”
>Taking the phone in your left hand you estimate the position of her head again, reach slowly forward and pet her head.
>As you wait for a response from the bern, you impatiently rotate left and right on the office chair, with your right hand still down, caressing Fluttershy's head absentmindedly.
>”Rose from the dead to feel the bern, huh?”
>Bernie had picked up.
“Yeah, listen...”
>”Seriously, man. What. The. Fuck. We have a business to run.”
>He always drops his accent when he does business, but has almostt never done so with you.
”Yes, and my money is still there, had I actually been dead you would have gotten it.”
>“Screw the money. I thought something has happened to you. That you were dead or comatose. Don't do that to me.”
“I was in an accident...”
>”Oh.”
>The both of you pause.
>”Bad?”
“Bad enough.”
>Another pause before he continues with an accent again.
>”Ya okay tho, right?”
>These pauses keep on piling up.
“No. But listen. I do not plan to quit my part of the funds, I- ahh...”
“I will explain everything thoroughly to you if I'm ready myself, for now simply assume I'm taking a vacation.”
“I have been calling you to ask for a favor though.”
>”Oh, yeah, here it comes.”
“Asshole.”
>You chuckle nonetheless.
>”No, assho', you're the assho'. I'va been sittin' around here worryin' my ass of hea 'bout you. An now ya callin' for me to do ya dirty work? Not cool, man. Yo an assho'.”
“Takes one to know one, asshole.”
>”Ah missed you.”
“Yeah, sorry. So, listen. Uhh... I lost my eyesight.”
>”Fo shizzle mah nizzle?”
“I would have a great desire for stating this as a mere jest, my friend of african american decent, but I'm afraid it's true.”
>He doesn't respond immediately.
>”What ya need?”
“Well, my mom got me an assistant with the whole blindness thing-”
>”And he ain't doin' that, because...? Ya need some blind porn? Awesome audio quality? I can hook you up.”
“No, it's a pony.”
>”So ya won't need any more porn. What ya need then?”
“She's injured. She has a broken wing. Has had for a while, but wasn't treated.”
“I can't see it but it's swollen, haven't touched the part much though, because, you know, she's in pain.”
>”Damn, ya sob stories don't seem da end.”
>You could hear him type after he put you on speaker.
>”Do you need a pony specialist? All of those are ponies themselves, owned by someone who knows how do make money. Not gonna be cheap.”
“You know my financial situation.”
>”Hehe, luxury class then. Just telling you that you will pay more than it's worth.”
“I want her to not be in pain, Bernie. It's my property, I want it intact.”
>”That's pretty dark of you. What happened to good guy anon?”
“He had an accident.”
>“Mhm...”
>He never stopped working while in the call. And just as you wanted to apologize for not calling earlier he...
>”Found something... It's in the city. Got the phone number right here. Do you have a pen-”
>”Oh, fuck, sorry, ya probably gonna write much down anymore...”
>”Imma remote access your phone, call, then give you back control, okay?”
“Do that. Hey, and... I don't know what the future is going to hold, but thanks for everything you did for me in the past.”
>”Yeah, and you, thanks for making me one rich mofo.”
“We... will figure something out. Fluttershy can read me stuff. While having eyes is dandy and all, but I don't think they are required for continuing with the company.”
>“Don't make me tear up, faggot.”
“Okay, thanks, and bye then.”
>”One second.”
“Yes?”
>”Is pone pussy good, should I get one myself? I'm in between girlfriends right now.”
>You hang up.
>A smile's on your face. You had missed, Bernie.
>Fluttershy's head was laying on your lap now as you had continued to pet her.
“Oh, sorry Fluttershy, My mind was elsewhere.”
>You take the hand away from her.
>She makes a sound you can't quite place an emotion on.
“Can you make breakfast? I-”
>Then you hear another voice and you quickly pick your phone up again.
“Yes, hello? Sorry, I- was just talking to someone, can you repeat?”
>”No problem, Sir. You have reached the Tenderhoof Pony Health Institute. What can we do for you.”
>So you start to explain the situation, including your limitations of blindness, and an hour later, Fluttershy and you are in an taxi, driving toward the hospital. 

>”And you're not going to let go of my hoof?”
“No Fluttershy, I promised.”
>She was like a child.
>But you understand why she is nervous the doctor may as well tell her she will never fly again.
>So far everything you've learned about her wing was from the first quick look of the nurse that Fluttershy's wing was bad enough that others could have been skipped.
>Besides your generous payment for treatment, of course. 
>But still... someone able to skip line in an hospital was always a bad omen.
>So you were sitting next to an examination table which Fluttershy lay upon on her belly.
>Amongst other things she got a sleeping pill to not be awake for the operation.
>Her wing needs to be carefully broken again for it to be put back in place right.
>The entire wing was in quite bad condition, infected bone marrow clogged arteries, so at least the infection didn't spread wide.
>Silver lining, eh?
>The hand which wasn't busy with her hoof was gently petting her as she got calmer until she eventually falls asleep.
>No you only need to wait through an operation.
>Are able to listen to all sorts of funny sounds, like cracks of bone, snips, and all those fancy metal instruments clacking whenever the doc needs something else.
>Apparently when doing surgery on ponies it's okay to have non-hospital personell present.
>You had to change in some hospital fitted clothes, along with a surgical mask and all.
>While you wait your thoughts never went good places.
>Until it feels like you have spent more time with unconscious-Fluttershy, than with awake-Fluttershy.
>”Mr. Anonymous?”
>That was the doctors voice.
“Hmm? Yes?”
>”We are wrapping up. The operation was successful, everything came as we hoped it would.”
>You nod.
“So?”
>He doesn't answer immediately.
“She might fly again with the proper physio-therapy, but... there simply is noone who does therapy for wings on a pony. Not in this world, at least.”
>You hear bitterness in the stallions voice as he adds that last part.
“She'll get painkillers, antibiotics, and some things against an infection.”
>You nod.
“I understand, but is there nothing that can be done about therapy?”
>”A pegasus ability to fly relies on ambient magic, and their internal magic which is renewed by the consumption of nutrients in soil which was rich in magic.”
>”This too, is not present in this world.”
>You gulp.
>”She's not the first pegasus who has lost her ability to fly. Injuries was less severe than hers have triggered such a reaction.”
>Again you only nod.
>”What you can do is come immediately next time you see someone is hurt, and now don't push her into physical activity, which includes sexual intercourse.”
“I did not- Who do you think I am?”
>”I'm not saying anything, but there is evidence of physical and sexual abuse on her body. I only gave suggestion as how to keep your property intact.”
>He seems as angry as you are.
>You sigh and calm down at that realization.
>With a smile you caress Fluttershy's head and stroke her over her mane.
“I only got her yesterday, as a present. I wanted to give her back, but I was afraid she easily has it worse everywhere else but with me.”
“And with my blindness, I need an assistant. Not an robot or a slave who does as I say, but someone who will understand me.”
“I'll never hurt her... I'll never tell her to do things she doesn't want to do.”
>You lean forward to give her a small kiss on the forehead, even through the piece of cloth.
“She needs some kindness, but I have my issues too...”
“Whoever did this to her...”
>You look up.
“Can you look up in her medical history who her owner was before me?”
>There was quite a long pause.
>You just now realize that the nurses had stopped picking up metal instruments when you had held your monologue.
“Her medical history is what you, as her owner, have a right to. I can even print it out in braille for you, Sir.”
>The smile on his lips was evident in the way his words sounded.
>You smile as well. You don't know what you are going to do, but knowing a name at least gave you options.

>You had only once stopped being in contact with Fluttershy as you went home in a cab, and you felt bad about it.
>Come midday you are laying besides her in your bed, still with her hoof in your hand, thinking about the cruelties you could do to whomever has harmed her.
>As she slowly begins to wake up all evil thoughts diminish and  you couldn't help but smile in her direction.
“Wakey, sleepy head.”
>Gosh, why do you need to say something cute? It's undignified for a manly man such as yourself.
>It had been bad enough that you spilled your good guy beans in the operating room, now you are cute directly to her?
>You squeeze her head.
>”Nyah!”
>What the hell kind of sound was that? Something out of animu, maybe.
“Hey, Fluttershy.”
>She immediately retreats her hoof from you, and from the bed you can only guess that she had jumped up.
>”owowow...”
>On one level you'd tell her it's her own fault for having jumped up so quickly after the surgery.
“Easy there, Fluttershy. No need to be alarmed.”
>“Oh...”
>She lays back down... but full on into you, making her your little spoon.
“Uhh...”
>”Master...”
>Narcotics must still make her mind hazy, from the way she's slurring her speech.
>At least she lies on her good wing...
>She's snuggling into you more, increasing the amound of her coat your body was touching.
>”Are we going to have sex?”



>The question comes out of her lips without any show of restraint whatsoever.
“W-What do you mean?”
>”Oh... I figured because we are cuddling on your bed.”
“N-No, Fluttershy. I'm not going to-”
>She interrupts you.
>“Aww... that's too bad. I was looking forward to the gentle touch of your cock.”
>...
>...
>wow,
“F-Fluttershy?”
>She must be totally out of it.
“Do you want to...”
>You leave the question unfinished, as you feel her nodding frantically.
>”Oh yes, please.”
“Why?”
>”Because you are so gentle, you said you want to keep me. You will be with me forever. And I know you're gentle.”
>”I have never had gentle sex. And I know you will be gentle, because you are gentle.”
>That's a lot of 'gentle's there.
>“And if you don't... I probably never will...  and that's sad....”
>So much wat.
>”I love you, Master.”

>You leave your bedroom.
>Fluttershy had fallen asleep immediately after confessing her love to you.
>Don't think anything into it, she was super high.
>A drunk mans words are a sober mans thoughts.
>No, no, no, don't think anything into it.
>You've seen “after dentist” videos.
>People are weird when high.
>and she's just...
>So fucking cute.
>Why boner, oh fucking why?
>She sounded so sad when you told her you weren't going to fuck her, it breaks your heart.
>Because Doctors orders.
>But then again, very gentle sex... would it count as physical exertion on her part?
>You're not seriously thinking about sticking your dick inside of her.
>Yes you are, and you have been.
>But with her mentally incapacitated it's an entirely new level of wrong
>Even if she's begging for it?
>Especially then.
>May tumblr be as ridiculous as it wants, but having sex with someone who's very drunk, or high still counts as rape, if they lack the mental capacity to give consent properly.
>Even if they initiate.
>You could get drunk too, loosen your own inhibitions, then the tow of you would rape one another.
>You wonder if that would be okay.
>But probably not, since you planned it beforehand.
>You shake your head as you sit down on your office chair
>Some soul searching to do before you stick your dick inside.
>You have a natural basic desire, you want to care for her, and you want to know what sounds she makes with that cute voice of hers.
>It would be sex with a squeaky toy, how amazing is that?
>She also seems so sweet and innocent, and you want to see her hot and passionate.
>She has been through so much, and you don't want to hurt her.
>Are you her only chance for ever getting real sex? Passionate one?
>As it seems she had been a virgin before she came to Earth, and then all of her experiences had been her being used however.
>But she does know that sex is something that is supposed to be nice.
>After everything she went through, she still knows that.
>You can't help but admire her strength.
>That dimensional rift thingy opened- or rather- was made public one and a half ago.
>8 months of torture. Abuse on all of ones base psychological needs.
>Food and water, sleep, safety, social bonds as friends and family, sex, work, finances.
>Everything was robbed of her, she was toyed with.
>And she still believes in gentle sex.
>That 'she loves you' part had to be a delusion of hers. You're not going to play down her feelings, but...
>If you're truly the only person who was nice to her in more than a year, it's somewhat logical for her to mistake her feelings of basic friendship for love.
>Isn't it?
>She can't possibly love you, right?
>...
>You need a pizza...

>while you wait for your pizza you once again had called Bern to do your dirty work, 
>Fluttershy will need pony shampoo.
>Their manes can be washed by human shampoo and conditioner, but their coats need something finer, if you want it to feel nice.
>Apparently it will come in a bucket and was pretty expensive, but you figured as much.
>Benign demand, but almost no supply.
>And ponies have a lot of coat to be covered with it, so you wonder how soon you need something again.
>Not to mention you have to first figure out how much to use for it.
>You had the money, you need to remind yourself.
>Your mom raised you as a cheap bastard, never indulging into anything.
>That was back when you couldn't simply gift away slaves (they barely ever come below a grand)
>There it was, your first sigh of the day, when you think back to the days when you were a lower class citizen.
>Then your bio-dad died somewhere in Asia, and the money had no place else to go but your mother and you.
>Then you started making investments in smart people on the internet.
>The exact opposite of what real bankers do.
>It's something that never pay off, but for some reason it worked for you.
>And, boom, now you were upper middle class.
>Bern has a similar story.
>The two of you were what people call wasted potential. Freakishly smart, Jack of all Trades, and Master of none.
>Neither of you had found a single passion, and eventually helping people who found theirs became yours.
>Together you spent your times solving your favorite problems. Skimming the net for the best suppliers, and making spreadsheets.
>Your trade was it to find people.
>Usually socially inept ones, who have no idea about laws, IP, patents, copyright, or PR, but are geniuses in their field, but who are too crazy to be taken serious with 'serious investors'.

>Well, you had been socially inept as well, but you figured out how the game is played.
>You became a small call center (A call center with two phones on opposite sides of the country) and you developed people skills (facing them is still troublesome though.)
>And as your investments really started to pay off you kept doing it.
>High risk, high reward.
>Then you discovered your passion. It's helping people, and being generous.
>But not giving them more than they think they deserve. You don't want them to feel like beggars.
>Nor do you want to be used and abused. Not because you wouldn't make money, but because it would keep you from 
>Thinking about it made you smile.
>And not 24 hours ago you had contemplated suicide.
>The smile vanishes, you can't trust yourself right now.
>God damnit, you have a fucking helper complex, don't you?
>Trying to make it right to everyone and disregarding your own needs.
>Fluttershy...
>She's your slave. Your property. She's supposed to do everything you ask of her.
>Not the other way around. And certainly it wasn't your duty to guess her needs and buy her fancy shampoo even before she asked.
>You clench your fist.
>Anger issues.
>No, you wouldn't let her walk all over you by acting all cute in a drug induced delirium, broken wing, and crying out her eyes to you.
>...
>You will see that the investment you make, in restoration and preservation of her physical and emotional self, to pay off.
>You'll be fair, and she'll still have it good with you, probably better than anywhere else. 
>But you are not going to be a charity.

>Be Fluttershy
>You wake up, with your head pounding in a dull pain.
>Staying still as much as you can, as you always do, after waking up you open your eyes and look around the room.
>You were in Masters bedroom, and you were alone.
>The last thing you remember was getting prepared for surgery, and then...
>No... You woke up earlier.
>Master was there, he...
>Your eyes widen.
>What did you say?
>You faintly remember cuddling into him.
>You also remember feeling l-lewd.
>Shaking your head you try to shrink together, making yourself as small as possible.
>What did you say to him?
>After a while of imagining a wild variety of things you could have said and he reacted to you look back to your wing.
>It was bandaged expertly and set still onto you.
>You were used to it being tied down, but you weren't used to it not hurting.
>You slowly make your way out of the bed and spread your functional wing.
>The muscles are sore from never being used anymore, but you gave it a flap anyway.
>It's dirty... you need to preen desperately.
>And the rest of your body wasn't doing so well either.
>As Master said, you need to be cleaned.
>You shift a little.
>No... Bad thoughts.
>Master is a good human, he will use warm water to hose you down.

>You walk out of the bedroom, following Master's voice to the computer-thing
>He was talking, but wasn't lifting the phone to his head, like you saw humans so often do
“Master?”
>He continues talking into the microphone attached to his head wear.
>You learned to never question your masters behavior.
>He does seem to be talking to someone about contracts of... not telling others to talk about things?
>He's talking about money and mass production and want's secrecy?
>Is he involved in bad things?
>You never heard of something good to come out of secrecy.
>Honesty is always the best way to go.
“M-Master.”
>You try to catch his attention again, but he still doesn't pay any attention to you.
>Were those ear muffs soundproof?
>Only giving him the sounds he wants? In this case the voice of whomever he's talking to.
“Master.”
>You reach forward with your hoof and touch his knee.
>”Gah!”
>You cover down and protect your head. You've scared your master.
>Nononono...
>”Fluttersh-? Hold a second.”
>You hear him take off the earmuffs.
>”Fluttershy?”
>His foot hits you slightly.
>He's a good human, he doesn't want to hurt you, he's a good human, …
>No matter how often you tell yourself that, you start to panic.
>You feel the pain again.
>The pain of being hit.
>”Fluttershy?”
>The pain of being burned.
>”What's the matter?”
>The pain of being cut.
>”Fluttershy, snap out of it!”
>The pain of having your wing broken.
>He's shaking you.
>He wants to hurt you.
>You shut down, and go limp, back into playing dead.
>”Fluttershy? Fluttershy!”

>Be Anon
>Fluttershy is shaking in your arms, and unresponsive to anything you do to her.
>Neither to touch nor to words.
>Shit, shit, shit.
>Fluttershy is having an episode.
>You don't want Fluttershy to have an episode.
>You pick her up and carry her back into your bedroom, then quickly get back.
“Grow up and sign the NDA, this is insurance that you don't talk to other investors. More investors only lead to complications, I have to go.”
>Quickly you hang up, and dial.
>”911 What's your emergency?”
>Shit what do you tell them? They won't come for a pony, will they?
“Ahh... My roommate is having an episode. She's shaking, and I can't talk to her. My address is-”
>You give your address through and stay in line.
>The operator and you are having some troubles with your blindness and not telling him the whole truth.
>You tell him she just had an operation, and has a history of abuse. 
>Measuring her pulse gave an inhuman result, but the operator doesn't play it down.
>You assume him to think this is a prank call, but he stays calm
>5 Minutes later the doorbell rings, you let Fluttershy still in the bed and go to open for the paramedics.
>”Anonymous? You called for a paramedic?”
“Yes, she's in the bedroom.”
>You make place for him.. no, two paramedics to step inside.
”To the left.”
>You hear them take a stretcher with them.
>”How long ago has it started? Is she still breathing?”
“I don't know I didn't check a clock, and yes she's breathing. Heart is beating irregularly.”
>You take a breath and prepare yourself for the fallout of the next statement you are making.
“She's a pony.”
>Their footsteps slow down and maybe look back at you, but then advance to the bedroom to check for themselves.
>”Sir... we are not vets.”
“You're here now and there is a sentient creature in pain. I can't help her but you can, but , please help her.”
>You almost sense them looking at one another and non-verbally communicating with facial features and gesticulate.

>They place the stretcher down and walk in to her, measuring her pulse and temperature.
>The other apparently googles for horse temperature.
>In the meantime Fluttershy seems to calm down.
>”Easy there.”
>You hear her usual squeaky sounds. 
>”You're save with us, you hear?”
>He pauses.
>”Your master called us, we're paramedics and are just checking your vitals. Can you tell us your name? Do you know where you are? Do you know what day it is?”
>She tells them her name and confirms the second question, but didn't know the last.
>”Uhh... president, state, ... Do you know your Masters name?”
>”A-anon.”
>”We believe you have had a panic attack. Do you know what might have triggered it?”
>She made a sound which can only be a negation.
“I think it's because I bumped into her with my foot.”
>And then try to shake her into consciousness.
>”This hasn't happened before?”
“No, I got her yesterday.”
>”Ah.”
>He apparently thought of something.
“What 'ah'? What is it?”
>”I cannot make a diagnosis without thoroughly examining the patient, and... she's a pony.”
>”Well, what do you believe it is?”
>”Usually we'd not be free to make assumptions, or promise anything, Sir, but...  the symptom we could observe was triggered by a stress situation which might have remembered of something similar, which happened to her before... numerous times.”
>Okay... You kind of have figured tha-
>Wait.
“Are you saying it's PTSD?”
>”I cannot make a diagnosis, and would advise you not to self-diagnose yourself or your pets, it's only bothersome to all medical personnel involved.”
“But that's what you're saying.”
>”Sir... It can be a number of thing. And she has been through surgery today, she needs to rest right now-”
>”Wait, you bought her and made her have surgery the next day?”
“Her wing was broken, what was I to do?”

>”No, I understand, I was just surprised, is all. But we should be going now again, we have humans to help...”
>You furrowed your brows at that remark.
>”For being a good guy we're not gonna write you up as anything. But don't do that again. I was inclined to name this a prank call, which would have cost you.”
>It took you a moment to respond as you hear them pick up their gear.
“Thanks.”
>They only mean well.
>You don't know how you would have reacted to a slaver before you got Fluttershy.
>Household helpers, yeah.
>Everyone knows what they use ponies for...
>Rape and torture.
>Because alter terrestrial beings don't even fall under animal cruelty, or sodomy.
>And it's far from human rights.
>Because America, land of freedom
>Terms and conditions apply, even if you're human and were born here.
>some ponies flee to Canada (if they know of it's existence)
>Canada treats ponies as animals which can be kept as pets, and as work forces, if the work required of them is appropriate for their species.
>Like dogs are allowed to work for the police so to speak.
“Thank you... again.”
>You tell them as they leave you and Fluttershy alone again.
>”Master?”
>She pokes your hand with her nose, a faint wetness on it as is healthy on animals... you think.
“hmm?”
>She doesn't immediately tell you what's on her mind, but you were patient, as you had enough on your own mind.
>Has Fluttershy really PTSD?
>Could any touch of yours 'trigger' her again?
“Fluttershy, you need to get used to me touching you. I need you as my guide.”
>You pause for only a moment.
“And you cant act up like that every time.”
>You want to threaten her with punishment if she does so.
>Not that you would actually punish her, but you need to establish yourself as her Master.
“You need to start trusting me. I promise you I won't give you a punishment unless you actually deserve it.”
>That wasn't too hard on her, was it?
>”Y-Yes, Master.”

>You crouch down and pet her head.
>Her mane is still greasy.
“Now what did you want to say?”
>She squirms.
“Come on. Tell me.”
>”That... uhh... PT... something... uhh...”
“PTSD? You want to know what that is?”
>She nods her head, and as your hand was on it you even feel it.
“Well...”
>How do you tell someone what PTSD is?
“I think you're in for that bath now, even if I have to sponge you down with that wing of yours.”
>You stand up again and think as you walk to the bathroom.
>”S-Sponge?”
“Hmm? Yeah. How else would you get clean? Can't submerge you in water, nor do give you a normal shower.”
>She makes weird noises again.
“You have troubles being touched, I understand that, BUT.”
>You empathize the last word and make a dramatic pause.
“As I said, you need to get used to me touching you. And that's an order, Fluttershy.”
“I have to know where you are, and I have to feel for your neck when I put a collar or a harness on you so you can guide me when I go out.”
“I can't just see to avoid touching you when I put something on you.”
>The two of you enter the bathroom and you go to turn up the heat 
“As the master I place my needs above yours.”
>”I-I understand master.”
“Now... where did I put the box with-”
>Your hand bumps into it just as you started to talk about it.
>You place it down on the floor.
“Fluttershy, here.”
>You pat the floor before you for her to take position.
>After she obeyed you undid the binds which kept her wing in place.
“When I hurt you tell me.”
>“N-nothingI can't b-beaah- Nothing I can't bear.”
“Without gasping in pain this would have been more convincing.”
>You take the plastic sheeting they gave you out of the box and begin to cover her wing so it won't get wet.
“How do you clean a wing anyway?”
>”W-We preen it. Without anything usually, but there had been oils or p-powders, for pegasi who wanted to take extra care.”
“So, what did you use?”

>“I-? I used... o-oil...”
>She got really quiet at that.
>Once you covered the cast properly with the plastic you nod her towards the tub.
“I assume you can clean yourself, but take this as a training exercise of me touching you.”
>If you have to say 'touch you' one more time you believe it ceases to sound real.
>After the third time it already lost it's kinkiness.
“Hop on into the tub.”
>You order after she still hasn't moved into position.
>She gave a small whine at your raised voice and quickly obeyed.
>But that was necessary, wasn't it?
>To keep up your master-ish-ness?
>It's not an unreasonable demand.
>She should have figured it out by the simple situation of her about to be cleaned and you nodding to the tub?
>You sigh.
>Are you already to hard on her?
>No, you've been unreasonably more demanding to girls at times.
>But they agreed to bdsm beforehand.
>You shake your head.
>Life isn't fair and you have to play the hand you were dealt.
>You're blind, and she's a slave.
>She can't stand being touched and needs some trust building.
>The whole scenario is practically asking you to  be a master to her the only way you are familiar with.
“So, PTSD...  post traumatic stress- uhh.. disorder?”
>As you explain it to her as best as you could you, aim the shower head at the wall of the tub and adjust the water.
>After you're done, she remains quiet, and just lets herself be rinsed off.
>From what you've seen, ponies tend to have really long manes, but thankfully Fluttershy's was relatively short, and it didn't need long to be completely damp.
>Huh... 18 months on Earth. Someone must have cut her mane at some point.
“Fluttershy? I think I'll have you get a new mane style for me, what do you think?”
>Differentiate her from her previous life and give her a new style as a marker into a new life.

>“Wha- What do you want me to have, Master?”
“Something cute but practical, I'm not really going for looks, but I want you to be happy with your hair. You have full bathroom privileges, and I expect you to use them.”
“As my slave you need to keep your physical appearance neat and clean. I'll have to be seen with you, and the condition of my property reflects back upon me.”
>“Y-yes, Master.”
>Is she quivering in fear?
“Don't be afraid, Fluttershy. Take this as a good thing to you.”
“Maybe you shouldn't take a full hot bath every day, or use too much shampoo, but the bathroom should be a place for relaxation.”
>“mhm.”
>She only hums in agreement.
“I'm washing you, this is a wellness service to you. I like to show you that I take good care of...
>...my property.
“...you.”
>You need her to start trusting you, that won't happen if you continue to objectify her too much.
>She needs to know her place, of course, but you also want her to be happy as your slave.
>“Th-Thank you, Master.”
“We still need to establish some ground rules, Fluttershy. This is just part of it. I won't punish you for anything you did not yet know. Unless it was something severe.”
>Just how could you punish her?
>You said you weren't going to use pain...? Or did you just say you won't use it without reason?
>You won't let her hunger, deprive her of sleep, or...
>Well, you DO know some punishment methods, but...
>You shake your head clean of thoughts again and begin to apply shampoo.
“Tilt your head back, look up at the ceiling or close your eyes.”
>You begin to massage her scalp with the shampoo.>You feel some stuff which has gotten stuck in her mane, and don't like to imagine what it could be.
>At least you don't think it was bugs.
>Again you have to shake your head.
>You feel yourself stalling with her mane, doing it too carefully and taking your time, to relish in the feeling.

>You'd like to claim you're just thorough, but you like it
>There was something peaceful about the act.
>From the way she leans her head back into your fingers you can tell she liked it too.
>You rinse off your hands and then move to her head.
“Close your eyes now.”
>Giving her a second to do so, you then move on, and wash the shampoo out.
“Your hair feels silky again.”
>You say with a smile as you finish.
>“Thank you... Master.”
“Thanks for the compliment or the service?”
>You chuckle as she tenses up again.
>”The s- both. For both, Master.”
“You don't have to constantly call me Master, okay.”
>She pauses a moment.
>“Okay...”
>You know she wanted to add a 'Master' to it, and for comic relief it would be clishee, but she could control herself.
“You're a smart mare, aren't you, Fluttershy?”
>“No I- ahh... hnn..”
>The rest of whatever she presses out was incomprehensible.
“It's okay, this isn't some kind of test.”
>She tilts her head.
>Does that mean she's confused?
“I mean, take the compliment. I'm content with your performance as my slave so far.”
>“Oh... Thank you, hn-”
>She swallowed the last word, probably a 'master'. It only came out as a gasp.
“Now, I have also bought some shampoo for your coat, and I'd like to wash your face as well.”
“You have to allow me to feel your features again, not that I get anything into your eyes then.”
>She nods. “Of course, Master.”
>You rinse your hands off with clean water once more before laying hands on her.
>Like you did just before you found out about her wing you begin to feel her facial features and try to memorize them better.
>With her coat wet, it was an entirely different feeling.
>At least her face doesn't have any blemishes.
>Only the cigarette burns behind her ear, and the scar on her neck, but those don't count as 'face'.

>Disfiguring someones face is still a hard line to cross.
>There's no scale up fucked-up-ness to place broken wing to compare it to facial disfigurement.
>Ah well, slavery isn't that dandy either.
“Okay. As pretty as I remember.”
>You take your hands of her and reach for the bucket you had placed next to the tub as it arrived with instant delivery. (living in a big city has it's perks)
>Opening it and taking a small scoop with your index and middle finger, you place your left hand below her jaw again for a reference point, but find she had retreated her head back.
>She's quivering again.
“Fluttershy, what's the matter?”
>As you could have guessed she didn't respond, at least not immediately.
>“P-p-p-p... p-pretty? Y-You think I'm... I'm p-pretty?”
>She's very near tears.
>You're very near confusion.
“What?”
>“Y-you called me pretty.”
>She covers her face with her hooves, moving your hand out of the way in the process.
“Fluttershy?”
>“I'm not... I-I-”
>Yeah, she's about to cry.
“It was a joke. I have no reference point as to what people consider pretty on a pony.”
“Quite frankly, you all looked the same to me, besides having different colors, back when I could see them...”
“I mean... I could see different body types as well, but facially?”
“Fluttershy, please. I don't know if you're pretty or not. Your face is... nicely symmetrical. But that's really all I can tell you about your prettiness.”
>Your explanation came out quite fast. You don't want her to cry.
>And it seems to have worked.
>You assume that she has thought about something way different, but you can't possibly grasp it.
>She's quite the crybaby, it seems.
“Hey...”
>You move her hooves away from her face, with her immediately obeying and not putting up a resistance.
>“I-I used to have a longer mane. I- I used to h-hide behind it.”
“Oh...”
>You don't really know what to say to that.

“You want to grow it back then?”
>She gasps a little.
>”I- I ca-?”
>but you interrupt her.
“Of course you can, Fluttershy. I want you to be happy.”
>“Oh, thank you, Master. Th-thank you.”
>You notice her wanting to go in for a hug, but she stops.
“I don't care if you make me wet, if you want to hug me, hug me.”
>“Thank you master, thank you...”
>She puts her hooves around you and continues to thank you.
>You can only awkwardly pat her back with your left hand as the right has the goooey shampoo on it, and carefully not touching her wing.
>Wait... the goo is for her coat anyway.
>You return the hug, as best as you can.
“No problem... no problem.”
>You had no idea that getting her hair back to the way she wanted it, or had it, was such a big deal.
“But you know that eventually hiding behind your mane won't do you any good from my piercing gaze, right?”
>She lets out a broken chuckle.
>A sound so entirely unfamiliar from her it made you smile and tune in on it, chuckling as well.
>To which she only begins to laugh for real.
>You wonder how long it must have been since she laughed.
>The joke wasn't funny, but she's laughing.
>Her happiness and made you smile broadly.
>You're more a laughing-on-the-inside kind of guy.

>What was that sound?
>Did she snort?
>Someone with a voice like Fluttershy snorted when laughing too much?
“Fluttershy?”
>“Hmhm... y-yes, Master?”
“Did you just snort?”
>You ask the question non malevolent, but she freezes anyway.
>“I-I- I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, Ma-”
“Nono...”
>You stop her before infusing her with fear again.
“I think it's cute.”
>“Oh...”
“You're cuter than you give yourself credit for, Fluttershy.”
>Breaking the hug, you set her down a little so her forehooves rest on the edge of the tub.
“Let's continue, shall we?”
>She only gave a meager noise of agreement and you goop up some more of the shampoo.
>Placing your hand on her chin again you now begin to coat her fur in the shampoo and rub it in ever so slightly.
>It's her face, so of course you do so very carefully, not to accidentally poke her in the eye.
>You can only wonder what was going through her head as you do so.
>Right now, she doesn't have anything more to do than let herself be treated to this.
>That's what spoiled rich women do at spas, right?
>Letting themselves be pampered.
>You wonder if there were pony spas and if Fluttershy has ever been to one, but you withhold the question.
>Bringing up memories of the past, with all that she's been through...
>You hope she was happy at the moment, you just got her to laugh.
>It was about a bad joke, but still a small sample of happiness which she hasn't had in ..
>You frown, you don't really want to think about it.
>Slavery is so fucked up.
>Is it better to be born in slavery and never having known freedom or to have it ripped away from you?
>You sigh 
>“Master?”
“Hmm? Yes?”
>You snap out of your train of thought.
>“Is there something weighing on your mind?”
“Well... yeah, but...”
>You finish with her face and let go of her.
“It's not... I don't know.”
>“I... Master, I am to carry your burdens and help you in your daily life. If there is something I can do to ease your mind...”

>You hear the words coming out of Fluttershy's mouth, but you had troubles letting them sink in.
>Is she that submissive to you already?
>She said that whole thing without stuttering as well.
>Some things she can barely squeeze out, others...
>The phrasing is off.
>You had a hunch this was something she was trained to say.
“Let me rinse off your face, so close your eyes again.”
>You choose to ignore her words and continue with washing her body.
>For a while you do so in silence, leaving the both of you to your thoughts.
>Once you pass her wings another thought crosses your mind.
>Her backside and mare bits needs to be washed as well, don't they?
>Should you let her to do it alone?
>No, you can't back out.
>You said she needs to get used to you touching her (hey, it sounds lewd again)
>Now you need to establish dominance by not going back on your word.
>Actions have consequences, even for the master.
>Is it harder or easier after she had confessed her love to you in a drugged out state?
>Harder, definitely harder.
>Hard like...
>No, keep it down.
>You had o shift position how you kneel before the tub to wash her.
>Something wants to come out and play
>Keep it down, dude.
>You're just washing her.
>As you keep massaging the shampoo in you notice again some scar tissue.
>Lines of approximately the same angle on her lower back to hip.
>Whip marks, most likely.
>You're not really surprised that you have found another blemish on her body.
>And the fact that you just take it as a given now angers you anew.
>It helps cool down the blood which wanted to relocate in your pants.
>You shake your head to try to get the thoughts out again.
“Can you help me with pony anatomy a bit, Fluttershy?”
>She squeeks.
>She must mean... oh.
>Acting oblivious you continue.
“I know the bones are pretty much the same in mammals, even though their proportions are different. But ahhh...”
“Like... I know terms like haunch and flank, and I believe some thing is called stifle...?”

>“Oh... ahh... The stifle is the equivalent of a human knee.”
“Mhm...”
>You nod and trail your hands down to her knee... or stifle, as it's called.
>Taking more of the goo again you rub it in on her left side.
“The flank I believe is the area between ribs and hip... the part that's not your... barrel?”
>“Y-Yes...”
>Taking a bigger goop you spread it over what's essentially her ass.
“Haunch... right?”
>She didn't give much more than an confirmatory squeak.
>Blood starts to flow down again as you continue to tease her.
>You carefully avoid the area too far up on her inner thigh and go down, making her tell you the names of said areas.
>“G-gaskin, hook... c-cannon.”
>As you go further down she regains her composure again.
>“Ankle, pastern and fetlocks, and just the hoof.”
>Now as for the more fun part.
>You're already have a sizable semi.
>You really, really like to hear her squirm.
>Something about her voice and entire being just makes her very tease-able
“I appreciate you helping me out with these terms. I want to take good care of you after all.”
>“O-of course, Master.”
“And I think you're making some good progress. You're still squirming for some reason when I touch you, but you know you can trust me, right?”
>She didn't respond.
“Fluttershy?”
>“Yes! Yes, Master. I... ahh...”
>She went quiet and then took a more serious tone.
>“I trust you.”
>There was something else in her tone which you can't really place.
“I'll finish cleaning you. Okay.. Hoof, and pastern
>Slowly you make your way up.
>You're just doing that to tease her, because you like to tease her. Not because you're into bestiality.
“Thigh...”
>You whisper to her as you've reached her mare bits.
>She's shaking again, if only slightly, but not of fear... you hope.
>You take a sponge and soak it in the water which has already collected on the floor of the tub.
“Fluttershy?”
>“Hmm? Y-yes, Master?”
>You smile at her.
“Spread your legs.”

>>26054161
>Be Fluttershy
>Master has been rubbing his hands all over you.
>Massaging your backside, and slowly trailing his hands up your leg to your...
>You thought you had been prepared, but as he ordered you to spread your legs you hesitate.
>You haven't even noticed that you have them clenched together that hard.
>It's okay...
>It's Master Anon.
>He... he will be gentle with you.
>You know it...
>He... has to be.
>You shift in the tub a little before spreading your legs for him.
>“Good girl.”
>Your heart was beating faster now.
>Good girl. He called you good girl again.
>You want to be a good girl for your new master, but internally you were very torn apart.
>He made you happy again.
>But with that happiness, this shimmer of hope for a better life, you can't help but realize in just what deep of a hole you had been in.
>And you could misstep at every turn, or be pushed back.
>You stopped smiling, and look back to your master.
>He's lifting up your tail.
>You narrow your eyes and look away.
>For a moment you had been excited about the outlook of having your mare bits washed seems only dull.
>You only gave an initial twitch as the sponge in his hand touches you.
>Facing front again you only look at nothing in particular.
>Wait it out.
>The prickling feeling you have had before he started was gone now
>Just...
>Wait it out.
>“Fluttershy?”
>You barely even realize he had called your name.
“Huh? Yes?”
>“Are you okay?”
>You don't really know how to respond, but as he wasn't washing you any longer something escapes your mouth
“Are you done?”


>Be Anon again
>Her words were like a some dumb ALS challenge.
>You had felt her go limp, and now that tone...
>Letting go of her you take a deep breath.
>The last time she went limp it was as a reaction to you... well, hitting her unintentionally.
>Back up brain.
>This was supposed to be a trust building thing.
>A trust you abused when you started to tease her.
>Why did you do it to begin with?
>She's just too fucking cute, and you want to hear the noises she makes when...
>It's not something you can do to her right now, if you wish to make progress on her mental health.
“Fluttershy, this was a trust exercise, do you remember? I merely washed you, but your mind jumped to something lewd?”
>Yes, that's the entire truth.
>You lay down the sponge and move your hand over to her back to her head, and pick her chin up so she would face you.
>A man only ever bothers to look a woman in the eyes if he wants her to believe his lies and check if she buys them.
>At first she slightly moves as if to escape your touch on her face, but then stays.
>Silently she was facing you.
>Without actual eyes this is kinda hard to pull off.
“I know trust doesn't come easy to you.”
>Especially when her mistrust just now was accurate.
“I just hope you can find yourself to do so one day.”
>As a master you need to be in control of the situation, read your submissive feelings and alter it accordingly to sooth them.
>So you shift the scenario into taking on a disappointed tone, to which Fluttershy will seek your approval again...
>“I'm sorry, Master. I didn't mean to-”
“No, of course not,”
>You interrupt her.
>Not letting her apologize properly will make her feel worse, but increases her need to make it up to you.
“that's why we need trust training.”
>Which allows you to ask for more...
“Fluttershy.”
>With a new breath you change the topic.
“I'll rinse you off now, then you'll eat something, I've ordered something."
"And then we're going to go buy you some things." 

>You do as you told her and half an hour later she was already eating while you went back to learning braille.
>You know the freaking symbols, but you can't read them faster than one letter at a time.
>Shit's frustrating.
>You can always have Fluttershy read you-
>No, ponies can't read...
>No...
>Fluttershy can read.
“Fluttershy? You said you can read english, right? Who taught you?”
>A small gasp came from her.
>“I- uhh... I... it's not that different than a runic system used by mi- it's similar to a language in Equestria...”
>“I-I mean, the words are the same, but only with different symbols.”
“oh... I didn't know there was-”
>-more than one culture in her entire alternate dimension?
“But you're saying you taught yourself?”
>“Yes...”
“Huh. That's... uhhh... impressive. You only have to know what a word says and look at the symbols to figure it out.”
>She had more than a year, you haven't been learning braille 2 weeks ago. Your honor is still in tact.
“You're a smart girl, Fluttershy.”
>You reach out with your hand to her.
“Pets.”
>She makes a small noise, but meets your hand with her head so you can pet her.
>Her mane and coat feel almost wonderful now.
>It's still grown in a state of malnutrition, and lacks natural softness, but properly washing her did wonders already.
“How's lunch coming along? I want you to eat as much as possible without your stomach trying to reject it.”
>“Mhm.”
>She gave a small confirming hum.
>You had gotten her a pizza fungi, the only type of pizza without meat you know.
>And that's only because prosciutto e fungi counts to your favorite types.
“I mean it, because you won't have a digestive nap,”
>You could go easier on her, but you want something important given into commission.
“You won't have to walk around a lot, but I have yet to find out if you get carsick or not. I've heard that's an issue for ponies.”

>“Then- I think I shouldn't eat more, Master.”
“Very good, Put the pizza in the breadbox and do the dishes, please. I mean... just put them in the dishwasher.”
>“Yes, Master.”
>She quickly goes to do as she's told, but you stop her.
“We're in no hurry, take your time.”
>“O-of course... Master.”
>She's back to calling you “Master” in every sentence.
>It would be nice were it in a sexy submissive “do with me as you please”-Master.
>But it was almost a fearful “don't hurt me”-Master
>You could tell her to call you by your name.
>However, you do plan to be a master to her.
“Fluttershy, I already told you before, you don't have to say 'Master' to end every sentence.”
>Damage control, quick.
>This wasn't the type of scolding which makes her want to suck it up to you.
“Now, I'm not mad at you or anything, but it's a bit annoying. Maybe only use it as the confirmation of a command, or when you want to get my attention.”
>And avert the topic by asking her a question.
“In a dialogue it just seems silly, don't you think?”
>“I- I guess.”
>You smile. Hopefully this won't get exhausting over time, or you'll get better at it.
>Manipulative asshole.
>She goes to do the dishes now in what sounds like a much slower pace.
“I hope it didn't seem like I was scolding you.”
“We'll have a few of these minor altercations until we get used to the other habits and quirks”
“I'll try my best to be understanding of yours, but for that you have to tell me if something is bothering you. So... how are you feeling?”
>She stays quiet for a bit and doesn't give you even a confirmation of having heard it.
>You frown.... What's going through her head now?”
>“P-pain. My wing hurts...”
“oh, damn... uhh... where are your pain meds? Take some. I hope you didn't mean you have to get my permission to take something against your pain.”
>“Th-thank you, Master... I mean 'thank you'.”

>The first taxi refused service for ponies and you had to wait for a new one.
>Waiting outside of the comfort of your home made you feel really helpless.
>It's like eyesight is an important thing to have and you don't know how to live without it.
>The second taxi was awesome. The driver didn't say a word the entire way after you confirmed the address he typed into his navi
>You're now armed with only a stick you don't know how to properly use and a pony you also don't know how to properly use.
>Better than a stick alone, but you hope Fluttershy's up to the task.
>The pony in question is on the leash and collar she came with.
>You assured her you were certainly not going to shock her with it, and she'll be the one to lead you, therefore deciding how much she tugs into the leash.
>The taxi eventually drops you off before a smallish looking leather ware store.
>At least that's what everyone will think when walking by or when they enter the front.
>Bags, obviously. But custom fit shoes, gloves, and jackets. High class, fancy shit, outside the price class of your standard issue douche bag.
>Nothing off the rack, everything handmade by some guys and girls upstairs.
>Custom tailoring was a dying art and was slowly replaced by off the rack stuff that's adjusted.
>You like niche stuff and sticking it to the system, but the regular leather ware wasn't what you were here for.
>Fluttershy lead you to the door, which, after a little testing around you find the handle for and push open.
>The pungent smell of leather, rendered by birch tar whisks towards you as you step in. >You simply had to take a deep breath once the door closes.
>Then you crouching down to Fluttershy and pet her head, before removing her collar and the leash.

>“Good afternoon, sir... and lady”
>The clerk, a woman whose voice you don't recognize, hesitantly addressed Fluttershy as well.
>“Welcome to Maria's leathers, goods and tailoring since '78. How may I help you?”
>You pet Fluttershy one more time before facing toward the source of the voice, and lift up the collar and leash you had just removed.
“Yes, I'd like a new leash, a collar, and commission a custom fit harness for her.”
>“Sir, I'm sorry, but this isn't... that kind of shop.”
>You smile at her, nod, and stand up again.
“It's exactly that kind of shop. I've already left a considerable amount of money here too...”
>“Okay, but costumers are already upstairs. For discretion we don't allow more than one customer, or couple up.”
>You nod. You know of their policy, of course, but without eyesight you couldn't pass the time by pretending to look around down here.
>So you step a little further into the shop, halfheartedly swinging your white cane around to not bump into anything.
>Finding a spot with enough room you crouch down again.
“Fluttershy?”
>You have your hand raised at about the height of her head, she get's the cue to come and lean her head in.
>“Yes, Master?”
>It's only to know her position, but you might as well pet her while you have he chance.
>Her mane and coat just feel so fucking nice now.
>And you hope she comes to like it as well.
“You don't like leather, do you?”
>She looks off.
>“It's the coat of an animal. I-I know they are not sentient here, but... but they are still living, breathing, feeling creatures. It's... It's just not right.”
“I understand.”
>you continue to pet her.
>What would PETA has to say about the issue?

“It's the world we live in. And this world's top predator is the human. It's the privilege we have, and by extension the privilege of the pets we keep.”
“A cat, dog, guinea pig, or even a pony. They don't have to worry about hunting, harvesting, shelter and survival, because we take care of them.
“It's the natural order, and, if it make you feel better, we use almost every part of the animals we kill.”
>You sigh.
“I mean, the thing with ponies is a complicated matter. But you can trust and rely on me that I will keep you alive and well, alright?”
>She nods weakly.
>“But... do I have to wear leather?”
>You want to tell her she doesn't have to, but she needs to get used to it.
>She has been proven to be able to prepare meat already, and you're bullshitting up reasons anyway.
“You don't have to, no, I could commission what we need from a different material, but its pretty much the sturdiest material.”
“And Maria's people know what they are doing, a custom fit is what you'll need if we plan to have you lead me around. You don't want me to just tug on your neck.”
>She nods more sincere this time.
>“Okay.”
“Come here.”
>You take a knee down to be more stable and open your arms for a hug.
>She obeyed and snuggled against your body into a hug.
>So soft.
>It's like fluffy kitten soft, but she's much bigger.
>Come to think of it, you also pet her like you would a cat.
>At least you have mad cat petting skills and can make almost any cat jelly.
>She quivers as you pet a spot at the end of her mane.
“You okay?”
>She gave a weak nod.
>“Y-Yes.”
>She seemed... sincere.
>Did you just find a weak spot?
>Success.
>You continue your assault on the base of her neck a second or so before you let go of her again.
>You don't want to make this too awkward.
>Someone was watching after all.
>As timing would have it you hear the door to the back of the shop open just as you stood up.

>Some business talk, you didn't feel the need to eavesdrop on, later the door to the entrance opens and the couple went away.
>“Anon, dear. What happened?”
“Hello to you too, Maria.”
>She quickly comes to give you a small hug, squeeze, and kiss on the cheek as she always does.
>Maria, or rather this Maria, wasn't named Maria at all, but... something else that didn't want to pop in your head,
>Something cat sounding... Caitlyn? Kathrine?
>She was around a decade older than you, and had the assets to display her products quite well.
>Said assets are pressing into your chest right now, and from the hardness, she was also wearing product.
>She's damn fine eye-candy, and you're missing out on something awesome right now, you just know it.
>She also puts in a little more bodily contact than usual, maybe to give you the rough idea of it.
>“Miss Maria, I don't think your mother would appreciate you being in the front store in... this.”
>The clerk was apparently not into BDSM if she can't even say “corset”
>Maria slides her hands down on you as she turns around.
>She is the horrible tease she always is, but so are you.
>You too slide your hands down as well, and give her ass a small clap as she walks just out of your reach.
>Hmmm... silky smooth bare skin of bubbly milf butt.
>Your thumb has hit leather, so she wasn't completely exposed, but it still fuels your imagination as to how exactly she looks like.
>“I know, I know. I was just showing our customers out. Now, Anon!”
>You practically hear her spin around again.
>“And what's your name, my dear?”
>You imagine her bending over, giving Fluttershy a view all the way down her cleavage.
>Whether or not the pony is embarrassed about this view, more just her usual self you don't know, but all that comes out of her mouth was a very quiet mumble.

>You nudge her with your leg ever so slightly.
“Go ahead, Fluttershy, tell the nice lady your name.”
>You were, of course, aware of the fact that you gave said information, but, again, it's about trust.
“Maria is among the most gentle humans you've met, you can trust her.”
>“F-fl-fluttershy...”
>It was only barely audible, and only recognizable because you knew what she was saying.
>“What was that my dear?”
>”I-I'm Flutter... Fluttershy.”
>“Fluttershy? That's a pretty name. My name is Katrin,”
>It was Katrin! German pronounced name, just like Maria.
>“but everyone calls me Maria, like my mom, who is also not called Maria, but my grandma who opened this shop.”
>”Oh, and look at Anon's reaction, he forgot my name.”
“Well, I knew you weren't called Maria, and my guess had been close.”
>“Of course you were.”
>She takes your hand and begins to lead you back.
>”Now, Anon... your face! What happened?”
“Public service announcement, wear your seat belts kids.”
>“Oh no, you didn't!”
“That's right, I didn't!”
>She lightly punches you in the chest.
>“That's so stupid, I thought you were a smart guy.”
>You sigh and start ascending the stairs.
“I really don't want to talk about it.”
>“Mhm... and your eyes?”
“Irreparable damage to right eye, and glass so far in that they decided to remove it. I have a glass eye now, and the left is damaged heavily enough, that, uhh...” 
“If it's really super bright I can recognize that it's somewhat bright, but no shapes or anything.”
>You reach the top of the stairs and enter the workshop.
“So I can't see shit, and am officially 100% handicapped.”
>“Aww, shucks.”
“So, anyway. I got a seeing eye pony, and I'd like to commission a custom fit harness.”
“Something where she can lead me around and not cut into her anywhere like a collar would.
“And a regular decorative collar for her which can be worn together with the harness. Nothing sexy.”
>“Aww...”

>”I never designed anything for a pony though... might be interesting.”
“Are you saying you're up to the challenge?”
>“Ahaha.”
>She laughed humorlessly.
“Do your worst then.”
>You feel forward with your stick into the direction of where you know a chair is.
>“Fluttershy /darling/, if you'd step up on the podium so I can take your measurements.”
>...
>Nothing.
>the only sound you hear was quiet talking a little further in the shop of two employees, but no hoof steps from Fluttershy.
>You find your seat and sit down.
>Maybe she just needs some time.
>“Fluttershy?”
>Huh.
“Something not right?”
>Another small pause until Maria speaks again.
>“She's not moving.”
“Fluttershy.”
>You stand up again and go to your pony.
>“I'm fine, I- Yes...”
>Before you can reach her you can already hear her hooves carrying her towards the podium.
>That was weird.
>You wonder what has gone through her head this time, but, as she snapped out of it quickly, it could not have been that bad.
>You sit back down on your first row spectator seat

>Be Fluttershy
>Be in a store where the skin of dead animals has been toyed with and put on display, as if mocking their lives and warning everyone else to not come near it.
>But Masters words have calmed you somehow.
>You're safe with him...
>You're safe with him.
>Taking a deep breath you look back to him, hoping he would encourage you.
>But unaware of you even looking at him just whips his head ever so slightly to the quiet music playing.
>You step on the podium, delivering yourself to the woman adorned with so much leather...
>How many had to die for it?
>No, you can't think about that. This world doesn't function like that.
>Your mindset was still way too equestrian to be comfortable with things this world considers normal.
>Maria, or Katrin... She called you darling, and for a moment you froze.
>Rarity...
>You miss Rarity
>You miss all your friends.
>You miss so much...
>No, don't cry. You can't cry now.
>With your eyes closed to force back tears you bump into the podium awkwardly.
>Ashamed of your action you now step up on in and stay still in the pose Rarity always had you take.
>Of all your friends Rarity has probably been your closest.
>Rainbow was of course your oldest, but you didn't get along with her quite as easily as you do with Rarity.
>Way before Rainbow developed a fondness for adventure novels you and Rarity had borrowed one another books.
>The two of you used to fantasize about what it might be to have been the heroine of a romance novel or two... or a dozen... but...
>Your gaze trails back to Anon.

>You have never known romance, and the only loving touch you have ever felt was from him.
>Whatever it is you are feeling for him right now, he can never kn-
>Your eyes widen.
>You remember. Now
>What you've told him when you woke up for a moment after your surgery.
>He knows!
>“Relax Fluttershy.”
>Maria urges you to stay still after noticing you tensed up.
>You face forward again and stare, still with widened eyes, to the ground.
>He knows.
>He knows...
>You frown
>What exactly does he know?
>You told him you lo- that you loved him.
>But that can't be the truth, can it?
>How could anyone rational say they love someone after only a day?
>However, that's what he has heard.
>Has he decided that you were simply drugged at that point and don't mean it?
>Before you said it you explained to him why you do it didn't you?
>But this wasn't love,  right?
>This wasn't close to love.
>You don't want this to be love... do you?
>Again you look back to Anon who was now whistling along with the music.
>Do you want to love him?
>Or are you just jumping at the first human who shows you any kindness?
>Maria was nice.
>Anon's friend Bernard was probably nice.
>There are nice humans out there.
>You shake your head.
>No, you are not going to love Anon.
>You'll only be his personal assistant.
>In his mind that's all that you are to him.
>Love seems laughable after you think about it.
>How would a pony-human relationship even work out. It certainly wouldn't be accepted by anyone.
>And he seems to like Maria.
>He even touched her lewdly in front of you.
>There is no way your fantasy could work out.
>You should be content simply by not being beaten.

>“I think I have everything that I need.”
>Maria announced the end of her task to which Master nods happily
>“Good. Fluttershy.”
>He whistles you over with outstreched arms and more than happy to get of this podium you trot over quickly.
>“Good girl.”
>He called you a good girl again. Something about his tone makes your heart flutter again.
>When you reach his open arms you're in for some quality pets again.
>He's good with his hands, and on your head you didn't mind him touching you at all.
>“I know it mustn't have been easy on you, but you did good.”
>“Hey, I did all the work.”
>Maria seemed angry.
“You don't know the half of it.”
>You only mumbled these words, and he probably didn't hear, but you shriek together anyway.
>Why did you say that?
>“Hmm..?”
“N-nothing...”
>“Okay... but we're not done yet. I need you to go pick a collar out with Maria.”
>“Maria. Single hole collar, elastic leash. And the harness should then fit to it, so advice her in style as well, not only how it feels.”
>Your hoof goes up to your throat.
>For a day you had been without collar, you had almost forgotten the feeling of having your neck free.
>However, Master put it back on you for the trip, yet immediately removing it once you had arrived.
>He said he wanted quality restraints for you.
>How can he talk so casually about these things?
>From the design of things you've seen in here they were clearly for humans as well.
>Humans enslave each other as well.
>Doing it to another species... 'domesticating an animal' was one thing, but they are okay with outright slavery?
>Then again, this part of the shop had seemingly not been supposed to be accessible to anyone not knowing the secret.
>...
>Is it secret?
>Is your master a criminal?
>You remember him talking about secrecy and convincing somebody to sign a contract for it.
>No... you don't want him to be a bad person. He has treated you so well.

>Your worry grows as he continues to caress your head and neck.
>You go limp again.
>The act was dull coming from a bad person.
>This kindness he shows you...
>A ruse to keep up the facade of a good person, even in here, a place anyone affiliated with knows a secret human slavery supplies.
>“Fluttershy... Pick a collar you want.”
>You can pick the shackles which are going to bind you.
>This...
>This must be some sort of test.
>You move out of his touch and slowly walk over to a wall with collars.
>There aren't many, but they wildly differ in style.
>What kind will he want on you?
>Something smooth to the touch from the outside probably.
>Or rather something that just barely kept you alert?
>“What's wrong, dear? You... uhm... have a grim expression. Not that I'm a good judge when it comes to pony facial expressions, but still...”
“I'm fine.”
>Your eyes linger on a plush pink one.
>“This one?”
>You shake your head.
“No.”
>Remember the restrictions he gave you.
>It must be something he can let you be seen with.
>So surely nothing frilly.
>Not the one one with the spikes either.
>Hmm...
>There's a broad one of bright red color with a pattern stitched into it.
>“That one though?”
>You nod.
>Maria takes it and moves it around your neck.
>Well, she let it hover around you.
>Why the pause?
>You lock eyes.
>She's waiting... for your allowance?
>Confused you blink twice, and then nod.
>Why would she..?
>You barely notice the collar touches your neck.
>Having been expecting something rather hard and uncomfortable this collar feels surprisingly like cloth.
>It was heavier than a handkerchief, that's for sure.

>Again you are reminded of Rarity and her attempts to get you more into fashion, you-
>“That's the one.”
>Maria snaps you out of your memory.
>A smile had appeared on your face without you realizing it.
>No, you didn't want to remember...
>... good things?
>“She likes it?”
>Master inquires, but asking the woman instead of you.
>“Yes, she got to smiling pretty soon after only touching it.”
>“Fluttershy, is that the collar you want?”
>You nod.
>No, you don't want a reminder of your old life, it will only drag you.
“no...”
> “She nodded.”
>Maria's voice easily overshadows your own 
>“Then I'll take it.”
>This is all happening without your...
>...
>You're a slave, you don't get to have an opinion.
>But no! The test!
>Wasn't he testing you for what collar you pick?
>Before you know it Maria has marked the collar with a pen and slides it off your neck again.
> “Okay, come here.”
>Master commands you as Maria takes the collar to a table in the workshop and readies it to punch a hole into it.
>It's supposed to be a single-hole collar.
>A custom piece, just for your neck.
>Nononono...
>You don't want this...
>“Fluttershy?”
>You still hadn't walked over to Master.
>You don't want to be punished so you won't let yourself be told a third time to walk over.
>As soon as you are at the mercy of his fingers in your mane again you relax your body.
>Just let him do as he pleases, do what he says, and stay out of trouble.
>You'll be... save.

>Being Fluttershy is exhausting, so... be Anon again.
>You're no expert on Fluttershy, owning her for barely 24 hours, but she's acting weird again.
>Earlier she let herself be petted easily, but now she doesn't lean into it anymore.
>It's like before when she has gone... limp.
>Gosh dangit, what's with her now?
“What's on your mind?”
>You expect no answer, or a standardized 'nothing' as a reply.
>What you didn't expect was her to convulse under you.
>dafuq?
>But then you hear a sniffle.
>Oh, she's crying.
>Or at least suppressing her need to cry.
>Why the hell is she crying?
>You take your hand of her and support your head in your palms, elbows leaning on your knees.
„What am I to do with you, Fluttershy?“
>You mumble barely audible for only her to hear, you don't want to catch Maria's attention.
>As much as you like Fluttershy, but...
“Keep your emotions in check, we are in public. I've been nothing but good to you, and you're ruining my reputation.
“If you cry like that people think I'm mistreating you.”
>Your voice carries more anger in it than you would have liked it to, but it manages to shut her up alright.
>Probably out of fear you'd punish her.
>And maybe you should.
>As petty as it may seem, but you give a damn what people think about you.
>Especially people in the bdsm scene.
>You can't get a reputation as a master who's mean to his slave.
>Foreplay, attentive sadomasochism, and aftercare.
>You don't make anyone cry for no reason.
>Your fist finds your knee.
>Why the hell did you agree on that pony again?
>Because you want to fix her?
>Because you delude yourself into thinking that your problems will disappear if you help another out?
>She's not even human.
>How could she ever reward you?
>Not in money or anything, but in favors.
>She can't do anything for you really, can she?
>“Master, I- I'm sorr-”
“Shut up.”
>She squeaks.

“You get to be sorry this time, but I don't want to hear it.”
>You're being unnecessary cruel to her.
“In the future your sorry won't have any value, will it? Sadly I'm into some money and I have a reputation to keep up.”
“And I don't want to give anyone to believe I'm mistreating you. Because I-”
>You pause.
>What is it you want to say anyway?
“Once a name is dragged through the mud it stays that way. And you not having your emotions in check when I'm out with you will only cast a bad light on me.”
“Come here.”
>You pick her up by her barrel and sit her on your lap.
>Her forehooves are secured by your left arm and your right goes for a slight belly rub,
>As you press her back into you slightly (paying attention to her wing) you nuzzle into her neck.
>With a gentle tone you continue talking.
“I like you, Fluttershy. I can't stay mad at you, something about your cuteness just makes me want to pet you.”
“I don't want to see you in pain...”
>You change tone back to your mean one again for a single sentence.
“But I also need you to obey.”
“I want you to have everything you need to have a happy life while you are mine, but you have to work with me for this.”
>“Y-yes, Master, I will...”
>You rest your head on her shoulder.
“Is that too much to ask. For you not to cry in public and lead me around because I'm fucking blind? Cook for me and do a few chores?”
>“No Master, it- it's not...”
“Maybe I also like to cuddle you... because you're fluffy.”
>She squeaks out some words you couldn't understand even though you were practically on her.
>You're asking her to be stable while being an emotional roller coaster yourself.
>But why must she be so fluffy?
>You're treating her like a cat...
>No, that's not right.
>You respect a cats privacy needs and stop cuddling when they obviously do not want to.
>Fluttershy...

>She's...
>You're really treating her like a possession.
>Like a really fluffy squeaky-toy with some utility purposes.
>Have you always been an asshole, or was this a recent development?
>She's not just a thing, she's a person, with feelings as complex as a human.
>Your anger turned sadness.
>You're just her new tormentor.
>Not better than...
>Wait, no, are.
>The fucker who broke her wing.
>And you're back to angry again.
>You have his name, you can find out where he had purchased Fluttershy, and then it would be easy to find out his contact info.
>Then what?
>You sigh.
>Back to sadness it is.
>“Master?”
“Huh?”
>“Are you- Are you okay?”
>Should you answer her just like you wanted her to answer?
>With a standardized lie 'yes'? Should you say yes just to...
>You could tell her to shut up again, but then...
“No... I'm not okay.”
>“D-Do you-”
“Not here.”
>You lighten your grasp on the pegasus and face into the workshop.
>This is where eyes would come in handy.
>Turning your side to it you perk your ear trying to-
>It's a single hole collar, how long could it take?
>“Is that my cue to come back?”
>Dangit.
>Maria had already been waiting.
>You sigh as you hear her walk over.
>“You two looked really cute, I couldn't interrupt.”
>Wordlessly you reach out your arm and open the palm to Maria, where she lays Fluttershy's new collar and a lock into it.
>This is exhausting.
>You make sure Fluttershy sits in your lap securely you put the collar around her neck.
>Only then you properly feel the lock she had given you.
>It's an odd shape, like...
“A butterfly?”
>You ask curiously, wondering why Maria had chosen such an odd shape.
>“Yeah, I thought like her cutie mark.”
>The hell is a cutie mark?
“What's a cutie mark?”




>“You have your own pony, and you don't know that?”
“Then that's the name of the mark on their flanks is it not?”
>“H-haunch...”
>You face to Fluttershy...
>Then you look back to Maria.
“The marks on their butt... So Fluttershy has a butterfly.”
>Again your head moves to the pony in question and you can feel her nod, but it was Maria to verbally confirm it.
>“Three actually, or six rather. Three on both sides.”
“What kind of name is 'cutie mark'?”
>It sounds like what an evil corporation would come up with to call tattoos for prepubescent girls.
>Neither of the two could answer the question.
>“I dunno. I think it's cute. Has a childish charm to it.”
>Their entire world had, that's why it's occupy it now.
>Not because of the childish charm, but because Earth had more napalm than Equestria had friendship.
>You hold the lock before her.
“What do you think?”
>Is it fucked up to make a slave choose her own lock?
>Treat it like a fashion accessory.
>“I- it's... ahh... fine.”
>”I think it fits her. Anon. It's pink, just like her hair and the butterflies on her butt. So... you know. For aesthetic purposes it fits.”
>color...
>You flinch a little but force a smile.

“So... the color scheme fits together? The collar is red, right?”
>“Are you comfortable talking about this, or should I- I mean... do you trust my eye and opinion when I tell you I'll make something that fits?”
“I do trust you, Maria. I... uhh... I don't... I just like to know, okay?”
>She pauses for a moment.
>“Sure. Fluttershys coat is a creamy yellow, while her mane is a light pink. The collar she has selected is your run of the mill passion-red, with black decor and border.”
>“It's quite the contrast to her coat and mane, but the black border makes a good buffer so they do not clash into one another. Her cutie mark is, as said, three butterflies.”
>”They have wings of light pink, just like her mane, and their bodies are a blue.... baby blue, I guess. Blues isn't the color I usually work with.”
“She's kitsch?”
>Maria chuckles.
>“Yeah.”
>“So, anyway. The lock I found for her is a red butterfly with silver border. The red is lighter than the red of the collar, but again, it has a nice border as a buffer.”
“Okay...”
>You don't know exactly how to feel about having gotten that explanation.
>Idly you move your finger over the butterfly-lock, feeling it's texture and it's bad make.
>You could easily force it open with your bare hands, as it should be with locks used in bdsm, but this lock seems almost fragile.
“Do you like it?”
>You hold the lock before Fluttershy again for her to examine it.
>“mhm...”
>You judge this as a confirmation.
“I take it then.”
>Readjusting Fluttershy's new collar you fidget on it a little bit, before managing to lock it shut.
>You take the key out and keep it in your hand.
“How does it feel.”
> “I... uhhh... it's uhm... f-fine...”
>You sigh slightly.
>Oh well.
>You're pretty sure Maria didn't make it too tight, or is trying to sell mediocre wares to you.
>Hearing Fluttershy say anything but a shy 'it's fine' would have surprised you anyway.

>Still... you were hoping for something else.
“Next we'll need a leash, something more...”
>“Elastic. Yes, I'm way ahead of you. As chance has it I have a red and black one which fits into the overall style I have in mind for her entire get-up.”
“Entire get-up? It's just a collar and a harness.”
>“Don't put limits on art, darling. Especially not petty words.”
>Something whips you on your shoulder, and instinctively you grab it.
>Plastic?
>Hull is too hard for pure latex, the cor however...
“Isn't a bungee cord a little bit too elastic?”
>“For anything regular it would be yes, but for-”
“Why do you have it then?”
>Maria didn't answer, but you could hear her foot tap on the floor.
>“Do you want it or not? It fits your purpose.”
“Yeah, sure, why not.”
>You pull the bungee, which she immediately lets go and tie it to the back of Fluttershy's collar on the intended bend.
>You pick up the pegasus from your lap and place her down on the floor again, then stand up and slightly tighten the bungee, so it wouldn't just hand through.
“Fluttershy, move against it, we need to test how much pull is too much for you.”
>You test a little around with her while Fluttershy herself stays very quiet.
>Not just her usual quiet, but even more so.
>Maria gave in her opinion along the way, and was thinking out loud how the harness will get to be.
>The usual pony-play, the one not involving real ponies, has the dom lead the sub around by their muzzle.
>You need it the other way around. She'll lead you around- or rather guide you around.
>It's an interesting challenge for Maria, and she'll design something whether or not you'll actually put it into commission.
>A short while later a price approximation for the harness is discussed, you pay for the collar and leash, and head out.

>At least you planned to head out but Maria kept you in the door for a felt eternity to properly goodbye you and Fluttershy.
>Her pressing her breasts into you in an farewell-embrace somehow only felt dull.
>You notice the feeling, sure, and it should have at least make you twitch, but your pants wouldn't move.
>You know what's ahead...
>Relax, your cellphone is in your pocket, if you get lost you will be able to call a cab.
“Fluttershy, we're heading further into the city...”
>After finally making your exit you turn right, towards your general goal.
>You've never been out on the streets before.
>Well, you have, but you never moved around on your feet at those times, you sorta just... waited for cabs.
>Dear god, you're scared.
>You're gonna make a fool of yourself.
>What if someone sees you whom you haven't told yet?
>You haven't told anyone, that's the problem.
>At least you don't know a lot of people who you might run into.
>As if navigating blindly wasn't enough, now you're torturing yourself with social faux pas?
>Worry is truly the worst use of imagination.
>...
>You're still not walking.
>Well, neither is Fluttershy...
>Time to blame her.
“Fluttershy, that had been your cue to lead the way.”

>Cautiously she tugs into the leash and you follow to not put a strain on her neck.
>Either you'll bump into her or she'll tug more, so it takes a little while until she got accustomed to your walking pace.
>You had always been a fast walker.
>Walking was never really a pleasure stroll, but a means to an end to arrive at your destination.
>Therefore you have picked up quite the pace over the years.
>You never bought a car, never really needed it, and until recently you could easily take the bus or, in rare cases, make use of a taxi.
>Taxi had become your means-of-transportation of choice in the past month.
>But, with Fluttershy, you hope you can turn it back again and save some money again.
>You're not on a tight budget, but it's the little things, the habits of spending your money which decide if you're rich or poor.
>Well, there are other factors as well, but spending money on comfort is the lazy mans way of getting poor.
>Hmm...
>Is Fluttershy a comfort item?
>Her purpose is to make your life easier.
>And out of a budgeting perspective she's a commodity which will cost you to maintain her.
>If you get her verified as your seeing-eye pony you probably can put her off your taxes.
>You need to ask your mom for Fluttershy's acquisition cost, put that off your taxes too.
>Bureaucracy is only fun if you know how to play.
>The fuck are you thinking about?
>Pay attention to the road.
>You don't trust Fluttershy to do a good job yet.
>You panic yet again.
>How far have you been walking without really paying attention.
>How far until the first crossroad?
>You haven't turned yet, neither have you stopped.
>But your internal map is fucked up.
>You don't know where you are 
>You're lost.
>Calm down.
>Calm down...

>Calm down! God damnit.
>You know you're somewhere in between Maria's and the first crossroad.
>You only lost grip on your save haven is all.
>Fluttershy's still here.
>You don't want to tug her...
>She might think something's wrong.
>Or you need to change directions.
>You can't tell her you feel lost.
>Calm down, mofo.
>You got this.
>You can do this.
>Fluttershy stops.
>You run into her and almost trip.
“Gah.”
>“Ah!”
>Fluttershy let out a surprised gasp because of your surprise.
>You need to support your hands on your knees in half a crouch.
>You really didn't need that.
“WHAT?”
>“C-Cro- Th-There's a crosswalk, M-master.”
“Yeah... uhh..., we'll cross the street. There should be a newspaper stand over there.”
>You point with your cane across the street.
“We need to cross twice.”
>“O-kay...”
>You begin to wait.
>“The light... it, uh... needs to turn green?”
“Was that a question?”
>“N-no..”
“Then we wait.”
>So you wait for a little longer...
>This is awkward.
>You feel like there needs to be conversation or something...
>The sounds of the street change a little, and...
>“The light for this road changed.”
“Lead the way.”
>She doesn't respond, but a moment later you feel her digging into the leash.
>And so your adventure further into the city begins.