"SPYQUEST"
By JeffMango (https://pastebin.com/u/JeffMango)

URL: https://pastebin.com/VtS486Y0
Created on: Sunday 1st of March 2020 10:34:06 AM CDT
Retrieved on: Saturday 31 of October 2020 10:44:32 PM UTC


>You are Rarity, also known as Agent “3 of Diamonds”
>Night has long since fallen in Canterlot, and you’re reclining at your desk, painting your toenails and enjoying a well-earned break
>But that break is cut short, however, as the receiver begins to crackle and Commander Harshwhinny’s cold, familiar voice fills the room
>”Agent Diamonds? Are you there?”
>You groan, and answer the call in your most professional, ladylike tones
“Yes, ma’am. Is there something wrong?”
>”I have a job for you. And it’s not one you’re going to like.”
“Hmm. That is what makes it a job, I suppose.”
>”I know you’re enjoying some R and R, and I wouldn’t call on you unless I needed you. Desperately.”
“That is what I’m here for. What’s the problem? Are the Shimmer cartels trying to bring nuclear devices over the board again? Or maybe Dr. M. Sparkle has another doomsday device in the works?”
>”Nothing so simple. It’s Agent Butterfly, Diamonds. We haven’t had contact since she went over into Ravenstvia.”
“Fluttershy…”
>Your friend’s name slips from your lips
“Ravenstvia? What on earth is she doing in that dreadful communist regime?”
>”Deep-cover recon. We don’t know if her cover got blown or what, but she’s stopped responding. Look, I wouldn’t ask anyone else to do this. But I know the two of you were…”
“Good friends,” you say, a little too quickly. “We were… just good friends.”
>”Hmm. Understood. But you might be the only one who can get your friend out. I can get you as far as the Ravenstvia border, but after that, you know I can’t touch them. It’ll be up to you.”
“Hmm. Understood.”
>”You have my permission to recruit anybody from the office to assist you. Tell them it’s an order.”
“Will do. Anything else you can tell me?”
>”Only that we’ve lost almost half a dozen agents in Ravenstvia this past year. Whatever President Glimmer is up to, it can’t be anything good.”
“In that case, I’ll be extra careful.”
>You pull out one of your desk’s drawers, and behind some makeup and sewing supplies, there’s a stack of polaroid photos of you and Fluttershy, arms around each other at the beach
“I’m coming for you, darling…”

>Twenty minutes later, you’re suited up, with all the necessities in a briefcase at your side
>In the shared breakroom, you find the only other agent currently on-base
>She isn’t your first choice—in fact, she’s dead last—but going into a communist dictatorship alone is hardly a bright idea
>Trixie is sprawled out on the couch, dressed only in sweatpants and a Dragon Ball t-shirt that’s too sizes too big for her
>You shake her away, and she flails
>”Gah! Who disturbs the great Trixie’s slumber!?”
“We have a job, darling. Now please, make yourself presentable. We live in half an hour.”
>”A job? Hah!”
>Trixie stands up from the couch, brushing crumbs off her chest
>”Trixie’s a private contractor! You can’t boss her around.”
“Oh?”
>Five seconds later, Trixie is in an arm-bar and crying uncle
>”Ow! Ow ow ow! Okay, okay! Trixie will help! Just unhand her, you psycho!”
“Hmm, much better. Now pack your things. If anyone can get me across the most heavily-patrolled border in the world, it’s you…”

>You are Trixie Lulamoon
>Agent Illusionist, former military contractor, and deep-cover agent for Ravenstvia
>After that night you shared with its president, back when you were on holiday in Cancun, how could you not change sides?
>Just the idea of getting to see that order-barking bondage-freak again…
>Oh, it’s worth the whole cramped plane ride to the border, even if you’re with miss prissy pain-in-the-ass Rarity
>She insists on dressing like some kind of 30’s detective, while you’re happy with your favorite tactical bodysuit, and *damn* do you look good in it
>You spend half the plane ride admiring your reflection in the dark windows
>When the plane reaches the border, you and Rarity jump out the back, parachutes carrying you gently to the ground
>Up ahead, a massive wall of concrete and barbed wire stretches as far as the eye can see, locking passage to the world’s tiniest, yet most dangerous country
>Rarity leads the way, with you strutting along behind her
>”You *can* get us across the border, right?” she whispers
“Trixie can get us into Ms. Glimmer’s boudoir, if you just stay out of her way.”
>Rarity rolls her eyes, but says nothing
>The two of you creep through the dense Eastern European forest, until you’re just a few dozen feet from the wall
>A rough iron gate faces you, patrolled by squadrons of hard-faced soldiers
>Their captain is a massive, muscular woman, her cropped white hair shimmering in the moonlight
>She stands atop the wall, arms folded across her chest, a gun across her back
>In the distance, you can hear trucks rumbling—maybe a supply convoy is coming soon?

>You cover your mouth with your hand as you laugh
“Trixie has a plan.”
>”I’ve never heard more terrifying words in my life…”
“Just follow Trixie.”
>With that, you jump out from the bushes, pulling Rarity by the hand, and the two of you sprint out into the open
>Immediately, shoulders yelling at you in Cheeki Breeki, and a massive spotlight flares, nearly blinding you
>Rarity’s jaw drops in surprise and terror
>You put your hands up over your head
“We surrender!”

>Immediately, soldiers are swarming the two of you
>They slam you to the ground and clasp handcuffs around your wrists
>After the handcuffs, they fit a plastic gag into your mouth, tightening it until you can feel the plastic pushing up against your tongue
>Next to you, Rarity squeals
>You can see her wriggle as they wrap chords around her legs and then up under her crotch, tightening them until they dig into her soft flesh
>Her cries are soon muffled by a gag, and when she turns, you can see her staring at you in pure fury
>You wink at her even as you’re similarly bound, hot lines of pain tracing across your body where the chords press against your skin
>Up above you, the massive guard steps into view
>”And what do we have here?” she says, her voice colored by a heavy Eastern European accent. “Equestrian agents, trying to sneak over the border?”
>You nod
“Mmhmm,” is all you can see
>The woman glares, and she kicks you
>”The president will be happy to here we have captured more capitalist swine! Igor, Igor, and Igor! Load them onto the truck!”

>The ride is hardly pleasant
>You and Rarity are shoved in like cargo, your bodies pressed tightly together in the narrow space at the back of the truck
>She gives you that same glare the entire time, the look on her face promising she’ll kill you the second the two of you get free
>You just roll onto your back, trying to get comfortable
>Ravenstvia is small, and Nash Gorod, the capital city, should only be an hour-long drive from the crossing
>So for now, you can just relax, enjoying the fact that you have Rarity’s nice, cozy body heat to fight off the bitter cold in the back of the trunk
>As for what to do next, well…

***

>You are Rarity
>Trixie's much heavier than she looks, and you can't manage to shove her off of you
>You eventually just resign yourself to lying here and being miserable
>But you try to think of Fluttershy, somewhere out there in this communist dystopia, suffering
>You'll get her out, somehow...

>Eventually, the truck comes to a stop
>You don’t resist as you’re dragged out alongside Trixie and dropped to the floor like cattle
>You yelp in pain, but your cry is muffled by the gag
>Your jaw aches, and your body feels stiff and pained by the bonds holding it, but you keep your mind sharp, ready to fight your talk your way out as soon as they set you free
>The massive soldier woman stands over the two of you, chuckling to herself
>”The president will surely promote me for having captured you! Fools, defying the great regime of equality. Yobannye dweeby…”
>Trixie is either asleep, or pretending to be asleep
>You feel like you could strangle her, if only you had your hands free
>”Now come. I take you to prison cell. Is not happy place, heheh.”
>The soldier-woman picks up one of you under each arm, and carries you inside

>You and Trixie are thrown into a prison cell together, little more than a concrete box with a barred door at one end and a toilet in the corner
>Thankfully, they at least remove your gags
“Listen, dear, there must be some misunderstanding—“
>”Silence! I am not interested in drivel of capitalist pigs! You will wait here until our president is ready to decide your fate. Until then, heh… have fun.”
>With that, the soldier woman departs, leaving you under the care of a single, stony-faced guard, a young woman who looks like she barely knows how to handle her rifle
>You and Trixie are lying on the floor, unable to do much more than wriggle around and stare at each other
“This was your plan!?”
>”Pretty great, isn’t it? Trixie got us *right* into the heart of the enemy base!”
“You got us captured!”
>”Which means they don’t suspect a threat. Trixie’s tactical genius shines through, once again.”
“You’re insane. I’m starting to think I would have been better off on my own.”
>”Trixie is used to being underestimated. It helps her out, in the long run.”
“I can’t believe this…”
>”Trixie gets that a lot. If you want to hear something else unbelievable, just wait and see what happens next.”
“You can’t seriously expect me to believe this is still part of the plan.”
>”Trixie likes to think her plans are more… freeform.”
“Darling, this is controlled chaos, but without the ‘controlled’ part.”
>”Just wait until you see what happens next…”

>Almost on cue, the burly woman bustles back into view
>”You,” she says, pointing to Trixie. “You’re coming with me.”
>Trixie winks at you
>”See? Trixie always has a plan.”
“There’s no way on earth you could have possibly planned that!”
>Trixie just shrugs
>”Trixie likes to think her plans are more… improvisational.”
“Well, I’m hoping you can ‘improvise’ your way out of wherever they’re taking you.”
>”Oh, Trixie has a feeling she’ll have *no* problems with that. See you soon.”
>Trixie winks, then plants a smooch on your forehead
>You try to elbow her away, but only succeed in sending twinges of pain through your arms as the binds cut tightly into them
>The massive woman picks up Trixie, slings her across her back, and carries her from the room like a sack of potatoes [-1 Luck for Trixie]
>You sigh, sagging against the ground as you take stock of the rom
>A bench and a simple toilet… not exactly the best conditions to work with
>You glance over at the guard, but she’s just staring forward with a stony, cold expression
>Not presenting an easy target, is she?
>But the toughest ones tend to crack the easiest, if you just find the right way to break them…
>You roll onto your side so that you’re facing the guard and begin to cry
>And it’s not something fakey-fake sniveling either: you start bawling like a little girl
>Fat tears roll down your face, melting through your mascara and trailing dark lines down your cheeks
>The guard looks over, startled
>”M-malchaj!” she barks, but you hear the stutter in her voice
>You keep crying, until you’re a shaking, sobbing mess
>The guard glances to her right, then left, as if hoping for some kind of backup
>”I said… stop that!”
>You raise your head, staring up at her with wet, pitiful eyes
>The guard flinches
>Your sobs are muffled by the gag, but they still do their job
>She steps forward and unhooks the plastic ball from your mouth
>It comes free still dripping with your saliva, and she tosses it aside
>”What? You are prisoner of Great State of Equality! You should accept with dignity.”
“But… m-my bonds… they’re s-so tight… they hurt.”
>”Hmph. Is too bad. You stay like this.”
“Please, just loosen them a little. Aah…”
>You wriggle around on the ground, and your butt just happens to end up in the air
>The guard’s eye twitches
“I p-promise, I won’t try anything…” you say between sobs. “I’ll do anything, please just untie me.”
>”This is trick. Am not falling for it!”
“Please? Just a little. It hurts s-so bad…”
>The guard glances around again
>”Fine. I take off bonds. But in return, you take off everything else, too!”
“But… not in f-front of you… please, d-don’t make me…”
>”That is order!”
>The guard throws the cell open and pulls out a heavy-duty buck knife
>She grabs you and roughly flips you over, so that you’re face-down with your ass presented
>You wriggle and cry, a poor helpless damsel
>She takes the knife and presses its blade up against your inner thigh
“H-hey! That wasn’t part of the deal!”
>You start to feel some genuine fear
>”You are prisoner! There is no deal! If you want bonds off, then stay quiet.”
>You whimper, only half-pretending to be afraid now
>The guard cuts a gash into your bodysuit and begins peeling away the material, exposing first your thighs, then your crotch, and eventually ripping it away until your whole lower half is naked
>You grit your teeth, your whole body burning with shame as the guard’s eyes drink you in
>You wriggle beneath her, helpless, lithe, and totally at her mercy
>”Hmm. I want legs free. Then you spread them for me.”
“Y-yes…”
>”That is ‘YES, COMRADE’ from you!”
“Y-yes, comrade…”
>”Now…”
>She slips the knife into the binds holding your feet together and cuts them
>And immediately, you have the opening you needed
>You twist into your back, kick the guard’s knife from her hand, and wrap her head in your thighs
>Though you can’t perform this maneuver with the skull-crushing strength of a certain farmer-turned-Ex Military-turned-spy you know, your slender, supple legs are perfect for fastening around an opponent’s throat
>The guard struggles, gasping and flailing as she smacks her hands against your calves
>You give her a single, sly smile, and then she passes out
>You drop her to the ground, slip your feet from your boots, and gently maneuver her dropped knife over to yourself, cutting your bonds
>Your captor is out cold now, but still breathing
>You stand up and rub a bit of circulation back into your wrists
>Bruises criss-cross your flesh, and you’re naked from the waist down
“Hmph. Already having to resort to this. President Glimmer owes me a new suit.”
>Quickly and daintily, you strip down to only your skin, then fish a small metal cylinder from the pocket of your coat
>You give it a quick shake, then depress the button on top
>A thin spray of aerosolized nanoparticles sprays out, clinging to your chest and forming a sort of bodypaint suit against the skin
>You run the spray over the front of yourself, then the back, until all of you from the neck down is painted a dark bluish-gray
>It still feels unnervingly like being naked, but this will at least help you blend in while you snoop around, and it’s better than going around showing your paper-white ass to the entirety of the president’s staff
>You shrug off your discomfort and grab up the guard’s knife, holding it at your side
>Looks like you’re on your own now; God only knows what Trixie is getting herself up to…

***

>The burly woman carries you through a huge complex of concrete, steel, and red banners bearing a massive equals sign
“Whoa. You guys sure like math, huh?”
>”Shut up.”
“You know, President Glimmer’s a pretty big friend of Trixie’s A friend with some diplomatic benefits, you could say.”
>”I said shut up.”
“Did you know she’s *really* ticklish? Like, everywhere. And she has this huge pile of assembly manuals for kites that she keeps under her bed. They’re really sticky.”
>”MALCHAJ!”
>The massive slap hauls you into the uppermost room of the complex, which turns out to be a cross between a mad scientist lab and the most massive library you’ve ever seen
>It’s three stories of bookshelves, computer consoles, and madman schematics scribbled onto the walls
>In the center of the room stands a chair, and you’re tossed unceremoniously onto it
>”You wait here. President comes soon.”
“Oooh, cozy. Can do! But, if you don’t mind, Trixie could use some peanut-butter crackers and a glass of—“
>The guard belts you across the face
>”I will do again.”
>She turns to leave

>You stick your tongue out as she goes, but only once her back is turned
>Your face still hurts from where she smacked you…
>The wait for President Glimmer to arrive is tortuous
>For a while, you try to amuse yourself by thinking of all the fun things you’ll make her do once she unties you, as payback for the rough treatment her guards showed you
>And after all, why wouldn’t she follow along with anything you say?
>She’s your biggest fan…
>Well, one of them, at least
>Finally, you hear the door to the lab open
>It’s dark, but you recognize Starlight’s silhouette as she strolls into the room
>She steps in front of your chair, her body lit by the glow of several computer monitors
>”Lulamoon. You really came crawling back to me, after all this time?”
“Aww, you know Trixie couldn’t stay away. Not from you.”
>”Don’t try to flatter me. You never even called me!”
“Trixie meant to! She just got busy, you know, with all the undercover work she’s been doing.”
>”Undercover? We captured you the minute you set foot in my glorious peoples’ republic.”
“Hah! All part of Trixie’s plan. She *let* herself get captured, all because she wanted an easy meeting with you.”
>Starlight raises an eyebrow
>”And you couldn’t just use my private phone number, because…?”
“Because Trixie wanted to surprise you, Poochie~”
>Starlight winces, and fat pink dots color her cheeks
>”Silence! If any of my comrades hear you talking like that, they’ll—“
“Aww, relax. Trixie wouldn’t embarrass you in front of your friends. Unless you want her to…”
>”Absolutely not!”
“So, just to clarify, Trixie *shouldn’t* tell them about the personalized dog collar?”
>Starlight’s blush deepens
>”Keep your empty threats to yourself. Why are you really here? I heard there was a second agent captured. Friend of yours?”
“Yes, a ‘friend.’ If Trixie could put air quotes around the word friend, she would.”
>”She’s escaped, you know. She could be coming for me now.”
“She won’t get close. She’s no match for you.”
>”I said flattery would’t work on me.”
“Then why are you blushing so hard, mm?”
>”You’re as much a wannabe charmer as ever, I see.”
“Well, it’s working so far. It’s got me back to you~”
>That sappy romantic line was exactly what Starlight needed to crack
>She groans, then crosses the room to you and cuts your bonds with a slender knife hidden on her person
>”I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“Oh, Trixie can. Now…”
>You slowly raise a hand to Starlight’s face
>She glares at you even as she leans her cheek into your touch
“Trixie’s found you. What should she do with you?”

>”What you’ll do with me? I think you’re forgetting whose *county* you’re currently in.”
“Oh, Trixie knows. She flew halfway around the world to get here, after all.”
>You curl in the chair, batting your eyes at Starlight
>”You’re looking for something. Your cute face won’t deceive me, Lulamoon.”
“Cute? Oh, do go on.”
>”Absolutely. Cute, devilish, a compulsive liar, prone to abandoning her… friends.”
“Hesitated a bit there?”
>”I’m not sure if I can even consider you a friend. You left me high and dry after that night.”
“And Trixie regrets it to this day. Her work always drags her away from what she loves.”
>Starlight rolls her eyes, but you can see that she’s cracking
“Trixie wishes she could make it up to you!”
>”Oh? Maybe we can work with that…”
>A slow smile spreads across Starlight’s face
>”There’s a private observatory at the top of the capital building. It has a view of the whole country, and it’s quite beautiful.”
“And you want Trixie to wow you with dinner and a dance, eh? You’re so forward.”
>”I want to be more than wowed. I want to be vindicated.”
“Trixie isn’t one-hundred percent sure what that means, but she will vindicate the fuck outta you.”
>Starlight winks
>”I’m looking forward to it. Now, I’ll have Gilda lead you somewhere you can freshen up…”

>Two minutes later, you’re stripped naked and tossed into a frothing metal tub full of industrial soap
>It’s about as close to a bubble bath as you get around here
>When she’s decided you’re done, you get dragged out of the bath, and she hands you a plain gray dress to wear
>It’s hardly befitting of your elegant, ravishing self, but at least it’s more comfortable than your tactical bodysuit
>After a few hours, it starts to *really* wedge its way into your ass
>Even in a dress made from sackcloth, though, you strut your stuff the whole way up to the observatory
>Its a massive space the size of a ballroom, fashioned from concrete with walls made entirely of glass and rebar
>A single table sits in the center of the room, with a fire burning not too far away
>Starlight is sitting there, wearing the same sackcloth dress as you are
>You wonder if it’s as itchy for her as it is for you…
>You resist the urge to scratch yourself in some truly inappropriate places
>Briefly, your thoughts turn back to Rarity
>Mostly only to mentally laugh at her, though—she’s probably crying in her jail cell and getting beat up, while you’re wining and dining the president of the entire country
>God, you’re so damn cool
>”Ahem.”
>Starlight gently clears her throat, and you take a seat across from her
“So? What’s on the menu?”
>”The same thing as every night. All eat equally in the great Ravenstvian Republic.”
>On cue, identical bowls of gruel are placed in front of you and Starlight
>She rests her chin on her hands, watching you
>”It’s nice to finally have you here, Lulamoon. I’m starting to wonder what *I* should do with *you*.”
“Mmmf fuff mmfff ff?” you say through bites of the gray porridge
>It’s actually *really* good, or maybe you’re just really hungry
>Still, you stuff yourself on the slop
>Starlight rolls her eyes and waits for you to finish eating
>”I know you’re planning something. You always are.”
“Trixie has never planned anything in her entire life. Things just tend to work out for her.”
>”Yes, I’ve noticed.”
“Oof. Cold.”
>”I gave so much of myself to you, and you returned the favor by raiding the fridge and flying home.”
“Trixie was hungry. And busy.”
>”The same excuse. You claim to be here for me, but your friend is still running free in my building.”
“Eh?”
>”Don’t play dumb.”
“Okay.”
>What the fuck?
>Did Rarity seriously get free?
>She’d better not be doing something cooler than you right now…

***

>You are Rarity
>Three guards charge at you, guns brandished
>You flit through the air, dispatching two with kicks to the face
>The third you catch in your arms, gently pressing on her throat until she sinks into unconsciousness
>The freezing air in this complex is hell against your practically-naked skin, and when you wriggle into the ventilation shaft, you can feel metal rivulets pressing against your soft, squishy bits
>Still, you’re cutting through these communists like a stick through a campfire marshmallow, and soon you’ll wring Fluttershy’s location out of the president herself
>Soon…

***

>Yeah, there’s no way she’s doing anything cool
>She’s probably still crying and saying “darling” a lot
“Trixie is here for you, babe. She’s lied her way through the whole Equestrian government to get back to you.”
>A sad smile touches Starlight’s lips
>”I want to believe you.”
>She leans across the table and wraps her hands around yours
>”But you have to prove it for me.”


“…and Trixie will! She is, and has always been, your loyal servant.”
>Starlight smiles
>”I like the sound of that.”
“Uh, but first, a toast! To our partnership!”
>”Oh? Should I have some wine brought out.”
“Wine? Don’t you commies all drink vodka?”
>”Vodka production is only a small part of our economy! We also produce—“
“Your best bottle of vodka! Bring it to Trixie!” you call out to the attendants standing at the observatory’s corners
>They shoot questioning looks at Starlight, and she nods in ascent
>Two minutes later, a smooth, utilitarian bottle full of crystal-pure liquid is placed in front of you
>The label is handwritten in weird runes—???? ?????
“Aww, yeah. Now let’s get fucked up.”
>”Need I remind you, we agreed on a *romantic* dinner?”
“You have no idea how romantic drunk Trixie can be.”
>You pop the cork and pour full glasses for yourself and Starlight
>When you raise your glass to your lips, the liquor runs in a clean, burning stream down the back of your throat

***

“And then, bam! Karate-chop! Right hook to the jaw! Trixie sends him flying!” 
>You’re stomping around the tiny dinner-table, throwing punches in the air as you tell a long, rambling story about how you fought off an entire squad of Shadowbolt goons
“And then wha-BAM! She hits the other guy with a crane-kick, sends him through the window!”
>You jump into the air, trying to pirouette and perform a move you saw in a kung-fu flick once
>Instead you end up falling on your ass
>You flop onto the ground, giggling
“Aaagh, Trixie does it better when she’s sober.”
>Starlight giggles
>Her cheeks are a little pink too, but she’s nowhere near as far-gone as you are
>”I forgot how much fun you were.”
“You forgot Trixie? Aww, you bitch. And Trixie was so good to you.”
>”Oh, I certainly didn’t forget that night. It’s such a shame that we can’t be together more.”
“What can Trixie say? Being a world-class spy doesn’t give her a lot of time for love.”
>”Hmm.”
>Starlight leans her face on her hands, watching you with pure, adoring love glittering her eyes
>”If only there were a way I could keep you with me forever…”
“Hey, if Trixie could leave this life behind, she’d choose you in a heartbeat, babe.”
>You stagger to your feet and try to seductively slide into Starlight’s lap
>Instead, you kinda just flop on top of her, but she still manages to catch you
>“Is that so?” she asks, curling one arm around your shoulders
>She trails her finger along your hip, then up over your shoulder, and eventually rests its tip against your lips
>You flick your tongue out, gingerly licking digit
>Starlight chuckles
>”You make me feel…”
“Say it. Tell Trixie what she does to you.”
>You plant a sloppy kiss against Starlight’s mouth
>She accepts it, but pulls away after a moment
>”I can’t describe it. But it’s a feeling I need. Desperately.”
>Her grip tightens around you
>”And I don’t think I’ll make the same mistake as Cancun. Not again.”
“Eh?”
>”This time,” she whispers into your ear. “I think you’re staying with me.”

“…eh?”
>You glance around the room, suddenly feeling the fun draining out of this whole situation
>Something in Starlight’s eyes is enough to strike fear even into the fearless heart of Drunk Trixie
>You point a pair of awkward finger-guns at her
“Eyy, you don’t gotta worry about Trixie, baby! She’ll stick around this time.”
>”Oh, I know,” Starlight says, her smile widening. “I’ll make sure of it.”
>You have a brief moment to try and twist away as you feel her burly womanservant’s arm circle around your neck
>You’re lifted up off the ground, flailing
“H-hurk… unhand Trixie! Or she… urk… business end of… a katana…”
>Starlight shivers in delight
>”Isn’t it wonderful? Don’t worry. There’s *much* more in store. Gilda? Bring her to the Conditioning Chamber.”
>You continue to struggle against Gilda’s embrace even as you’re dragged down a concrete corridor and into a warm, dark room
>Roughly, Gilda tosses you into a chair
“Hey! Careful with Trixie! She’s been through enough as it is!” you whine, rubbing your neck
>Starlight giggles
>”I’ve been thinking about our night in Cancun, you know. Every day, since it happened. I keep thinking about how you hurt me…”
“So is this some kinda revenge thing?”
>”Not at all. I *loved* it. And now we’re going to share that wonderful agony together…”
>You massage your temples as you hear the rustle of clothing, then the click of handcuffs fastening around someone’s wrists
>But not yours
>”Lights, please, Gilda,” Starlight says, nearly breathless with excitement. “I’ve been waiting to show you this for a long time, Trixie.”
“Trixie really hopes it’s your sick Bionicle™ collection…”
>Well, it’s a collection alright, but not of nostalgic 2000’s toys
>As the harsh fluorescent lighting floods the room, you found yourself staring at shelf upon shelf of spiked, knobby, rubbery, painful-looking paraphernalia
>Paddles, chains, whips, dishes of wax, candles, electrical prods…
>It’s all here, even including items you can’t begin to guess the function of
>Starlight herself is a few feet from you, facing away
>She’s discarded her presidential uniform, which now lies crumpled by her feet
>Now, she’s wearing only her high heels and a tight-fitted leather tube top, so constricting that it looks almost painted onto her body
>Her buttocks poke out from beneath it, and you can see she’s wearing panties with a big, proud equals-sign emblazoned over her rear
>She’s bent over a concrete slab, looking impossibly uncomfortable, with her wrists handcuffed to rebar loops protruding from the block
>Her breasts are nearly spilling out of her top, but they’re squished up against the raw concrete
>Starlight twists around, admiring you with raw, masochistic lust in her eyes
>”Isn’t it wonderful? I had it built with you in mind…”
“Trixie can’t help but be impressed. And terrified.”
>”Are my treasures too much for you?”
“No, it’s mostly because of the angry Russian pointing a gun at her.”
>Gilda smirks from the corner of the room: she has a kalashnikov lowered towards your chest
>Starlight giggles
>”I told you, I’m going to ensure you don’t leave me again. This time, we’ll share in our pain. Perfect equality, isn’t it wonderful?”
“Trixie’s always fancied herself more of a dom, she’s not so sure…”
>”Nonsense. We’re going to experience this together, united in pain. Oh, it’s so beautiful, I could…”
>Starlight trembles
>”Nnnf. Now, do what you have to. Lay into me until I scream. And whatever you do to me, Gilda will inflict the same to you.” 
>Gilda winks at you
>You gulp
>”Join me in suffering, my love. Don’t make me wait…” Starlight says, wriggling her butt
“H-heh. Yeah. G-get ready, because mama Trixie’s about to, um, b-beat that ass up…”
>You grab up a paddle from the wall and give Starlight a very light-hearted slap on the rump
>She just giggles
>”You’re going to have to try a lot harder than that. Gilda?”
>You feel the barrel of the gun gently kiss the back of your neck
>Cold sweat breaks out along your body
>This time, you raise the paddle and bring it down on Starlight’s rear with enough force to jar your wrist
>She wriggles, and instead of a cry of pain lets out a breathy, delighted sigh
>”Ah. That’s better. Again.”
>SLAP!
>”Mmf~. Again.”
>WHAM!
>”Aaaah.”
>Starlight shakes her butt for you, letting you see the angry red welts already coloring her skin. “Harder, next time.”
“…Trixie doesn’t think she can go much harder.”
>”Then I’m afraid you’ll just have to try something else~” Starlight says with a giggle
>You look around the massive toy collection
>”I’d better be screaming soon. Or Gilda will be *very* angry with you.”
>You hear a slavic chuckle from over your shoulder, followed by the sounds of fingers drumming against a steel barrel
“Trixie is… merely getting warmed up!”

>You grab up a whip and raise it high, ready to strike Starlight’s vulnerable buttocks
>But then you hesitate
>Is this how you’re really going to go out?
>Aren’t you Agent Lulamoon, the master double-agent who currently has the president of the world’s most dangerous nation quivering and squirming beneath her?
>Yeah, you’re taking as many of these commies down with you as possible!
>You’ll fight your own way out of here, if you have to
>And *then* you’ll give this communist skank the pelvis-shattering spanking she deserves
>(You’re probably still a fair bit drunk)
>You crack your whip like Indiana Jones, pulling Gilda’s gun from her hands
>You shoot her a cheeky grin
“You though threatening Agent Illusionist would be easy, did you?”
>Gilda flashes you back an equally intense smile, looking like a lion circling in on its prey
>”Oh, no. I am preferring it like this,” she says in her thick Russian accent
>You run at Gilda and leap into the air, executing a graceful spin-kick towards her head
>She catches your leg
“Wait, you can do that?”
>That’s all you have the chance to say before she slams you into the ground
>You cough as the air is forced from your lungs
>Gilda pulls you to your feet and punches you in the gut
>You stagger as pain floods your body
>Gilda laughs
>”Much talk! But you not put up much fight!”
>You swing at her face, but she knocks your punch away and grabs your wrist
>”Too puny!”
“Hah! You forgot about Trixie’s… karate chop!”
>You chop Gilda’s neck
>She lets the blow land, but your hand just bounces off her muscled flesh
>Her grin widens as she grabs your other wrist
“U-unhand Trixie!”
>”Nyet.”
>She forces you backwards and throws you against the stone slab
>You slam into it hard enough to stun you, and in that brief window, Gilda grabs you and pins you down with one hand
>You’re lying parallel to Starlight now, and the two of you lock eyes
>”W-wait!” Starlight orders. “Gilda! Unhand her! I told you, I need her!”
>”Nyet. Sorry, comrade president. But is my turn now. All is equal in Ravenstvia, yes?”
>”That’s not what I meant! I still haven’t…”
“Yeah! Listen to her! Trixie isn’t some kind of subby slut! She’s a respected, feared killer throughout the—“
>”Malchaj!” Gilda barks
>She grabs you by the hair and holds you in place with one hand
>The other hand goes down to your rear end, feeling up the muscles beneath your body soft
>”Mm. Soft. Is good.”
“Hah, you like Trixie’s butt? T-Trixie will make a deal! Let her go and she’ll… she’ll let you kiss it!”
>Gilda laughs
>”Hmm. Is tempting offer. But no.”
>With that, she raises her hand into the air and brings it down hard against your ass
>The resulting *SMACK* reverberates off the walls and makes you writhe in agony, even as a cry of adulation escapes your lips
>S-stop!”
>Surprisingly, it’s not you who cries out, but Starlight
>”You’re supposed to be doing this to me! Hurt me!”
“Yeah, hurt her—AH~”
>Gilda hits you again, harder this time, making you howl
>Your eyes begin to water until tears spill down your cheeks, and a line of drool spills down your chin
“A-ah…”
>The pain is exquisite, white-hot, but it fades to a golden pleasure that suffuses your body
“More.”
>”No!” Starlight cries
>She’s crying now too, struggling in vain against the chains holding her wrists
>Her hips wriggle madly as she watches you take another slap from Gilda, and then another
“More…” you gasp. “More. Trxie… could get used to this…”
>”Hmph. With me, you will not.”
>Starlight wails in despair as Gilda hooks her fingers into the waistband of your leggings and tugs them down, revealing your bare hindquarters
>”Me! Do it to me!” she cries
>But Gilda ignores her, grabbing a fistful of your bare ass
>You coo and press your buttocks against her palm
>You don’t need her to hold you down anymore, but she does anyway, her powerful fingers curled into your hair
>You wriggle your hips, a clear invitation for her to do whatever she wants
>Starlight, meanwhile, is bucking like a mare in heat against the concrete
>You can see dribbles of her arousal staining her panties and seeping down her inner thighs
>When the two of you lock eyes, her expression is one of absolute despair, jealousy, and uncontrolled animal lust
>You shoot her a smug grin and moan like Gilda’s bitch
>Starlight shuts her eyes, weeping in silent desperation as she bucks her hips like a desperate beast
>You, meanwhile, feel something cold and slimy press up against *that* hole, and your entire body tenses
>”Bite pillow,” Gilda whispers
>She grabs your scalp and presses your face against rough concrete as she forces something thick and rubbery deep inside your helpless ass
>Red-hot pain fills you as the toy stretches you to your limit, and you cry out in pure, agonizing delight
>”Bozhe moj, I wish that were me…” Starlight whimpers

***

>You are Rarity
>Two dozen guards lie unconscious behind you now
>In your near-naked spray-suit, stealth is hilariously easy, and you feel as light as a feather
>But the complex is huge, and you have no idea where they might be keeping Fluttershy
>That’s when you hear screams coming from somewhere several floors above
>Pain, ecstasy… it’s hard to distinguish them, but you recognize Trixie’s voice
>What trouble did that horny minx get herself into now?
>You sprint forward, your bare feet silently padding over the concrete floor
>Up ahead, you slip through a pair of double doors, emerging into a strange room: two deep pools of water, easily olympic length, stretch out on either side of you, with only a narrow concrete bridge between them
>And there, halfway between you and the exit, is Fluttershy
>She’s dressed in the uniform of a Ravenstvian commissar—jacket, black gloves, and a severely short skirt— and her face is unusually blank, missing its usual warm kindness
“Fluttershy! Dear, are you okay? What did they do to you?”
>She doesn’t respond
>Your notice that a black collar is fitted around her pale neck, with a small blinking console at its center
>”I’m sorry, Rarity. You’ve been declared an enemy of the state,” Fluttershy says, her voice flat
>She begins to strut towards you, and she unsheathes two combat daggers from her sides
>”You will be eliminated. Glory to Ravenstvia.”

>You barely have time to respond before she pounces
>You jump backwards and Fluttershy’s knife slices through the air that your face occupied just a second ago
>She presses her attack and you nimbly dance away, keeping your distance
>Though you clutch a knife of your own, you don’t dare turn your blade on Fluttershy
>But her blows come fast and vicious, each one missing you by inches
>As gentle as Fluttershy appears, you could never beat her in a one-on-one: you’re graceful, sure, but she’s as lithe and liquid as the breeze
>It doesn’t help that the stone bridge is narrow and slippery beneath your bare feet, and a single misstep could send you spilling into the water
“Fluttershy! This isn’t you!” you cry, hoping to reach something inside of her. “Surely some part of you can hear me!”
>”The Fluttershy you knew has been shared with the people. All of me now serves Ravenstvia.”
>It’s eerie, hearing the lifeless propaganda in your friend’s sweet voice
>Fluttershy lunges, dagger aimed at your heart
> You throw yourself to the ground, rolling between her legs and emerging behind her
>Without missing a beat, she plants a vicious kick in your stomach, sending you flying through the air
>The body-paint covering you does nothing to absorb the blow, and you land painfully on your side, sucking in air
“Fluttershy…” you groan as you try to stagger back up
>She’s on you before you can get to your feet, and she presses the pebbled rubber sole of her boot against your neck, pinning you to the floor
>It’s cold and slimy against your back
>Your thighs slap against wet stone as you struggle weakly against Fluttershy’s weight
“Please. Remember our friends. Remember Canterlot. Remember me…”
>”I have no use for memories. They do not serve the people.”
“Then… remember our night… our last night together… remember the warm sand, and the sea, and when I…”
>A choked gasp rattles up from your throat
>The world is starting to go dark, but you can feel Fluttershy hesitating ever so slightly
“I said I wanted to… to tell you something… and then you left… came here…”
>Fluttershy’s boot raises a fraction of an inch, letting some air get into your throat
“I still want to tell you that secret, darling.”
>Fluttershy lifts her boot from your neck
>She takes a step back, then another
>”No…”
>She clutches her skull, trembling
>”No! I serve the people! All of me belongs to all!”
>Tears spill down Fluttershy’s face, carrying black streams of mascara with them
>”You’re an enemy of Great Ravenstvija! I must… eliminate… agh!”
>She grits her teeth as she sinks to her knees, her pupils going to maddened pinpoints as she wars with the mechanical presence controlling her brain
>The collar around her neck begins to beep frantically, its read diode flashing
>Small bolts of electricity snap from it, making Fluttershy jerk and seize
>She throws back her head, crying out in pain
>”Rarity… help… me!”
>You’re already staggering to your feet, and you rush to her side, wrapping an arm around Fluttershy and trying to hold her still
>She writhes in your grasp, nearly elbowing you in the teeth
>You wrestle her to the ground as best you can, straddling her chest and pinning her down with your weight
>Her hands grab yours and guide them up to the collar, where you feel a small, cunningly designed clasp built into the collar’s band
>You press against the clasp, and the collar comes free, dropping from Fluttershy’s neck
>Immediately, your friend goes still, staring up at you like someone who’s just been woken from a terrible dream, trying to remember what’s real and what isn’t
>She locks eyes with you, and then bursts into tears
>You scoop her up, cradling her against your chest
>”Oh, R-Rarity… I’m s-so, so sorry…”
“It’s okay, darling. I’m not hurt.”
>”The things they did to me… and m-made me do… I c-couldn’t stop myself. I remember it all…”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. It wasn’t your fault. I’m just glad to have you back.”
>You squeeze your arms around Fluttershy, and she slowly calms down
>”I… think I’ll be okay. For now.”
“Are you good to stand.”
>Fluttershy nods
>”Are you? I almost killed you…”
“I’ve been ‘almost’ killed plenty of times. I’m quite used to it by now.”
>”Heh.”
>Fluttershy stands and helps you to your feet
>And then she wraps you in a tight hug, smushing your face against her chest
>”Thank you, Rarity.”
“Think nothing of it, darling.”
>”I remember… you said you wanted to tell me something. What was it?”
“Oh, I think I’ll save that for after we get out of here.”
>”I… I think I still remember all of their passcodes. I think I can get us out of here,” Fluttershy says, sounding eager to leave
>You sigh
“Unfortunately, there’s someone else from the agency here. And, if my intuition is correction, she’s going to need saving too…”

>”Then we should get going, shouldn’t we?” Fluttershy asks
>You nod
“You wouldn’t happen to know an easy way up to the president’s office, would you?”
>”Well, maybe. But, um, I’m feeling a little angry, after everything. I think I’d to let a little of that out, if it’s okay with you.”
“Okay with me? Darling, you’re offering me a treat.”
>Fluttershy giggles, batting her eyelids
>”I’ll try to hold back as much as I can.”
“Oh no, by all means. Let loose.”
>”Heh. If you insist…”
>Fluttershy reaches up and unclasps the black metal pin that holds her hair in a military-strict bun
>It explodes in purple waves, falling in wild tangles to her shoulders
>You can’t help but stare
>She looks equal parts beautiful and terrifying: your favorite combination
>Fluttershy strides to the far end of the room, with you following right behind her
>She shakes her wild hair out of her face, and when her eyes open, they burn with a cruelty you’ve seldom seen in the gentle girl’s face
>Whatever Soviet soldiers might be behind that door, you feel terribly sorry for them
>Fluttershy plants her foot against the double doors leading out of the chamber and smashes them open with a single kick
>On the other side, two Ravenstvijan guards snap to attention, raising guns
>Fluttershy lashes out as quick as a viper, disarming both with a single spinning kick
>You leap into the room behind her, knocking out one of the guards with a flying scissor-kick while Fluttershy dispatches the other with a quick chop to the throat
>Both soldiers are unconscious in less time than it takes to down a shot of vodka
>Fluttershy nods to you, a wild grin stretching across her face
>”I think this is going to be a very, *very* good night…”
“For us, at least.”

>Between you and the top floor of the capital building are 27 floors, each of them with their own division of guards
>If any of them had had a chance to sound an alarm, you and Fluttershy would have been drowned in gunfire
>But the two of you are a deadly efficient team: Fluttershy flits between the trench-coat wearing troops, bending like a willow tree and dispatching them with vicious jabs to their necks, groins, or other sensitive areas
>You, meanwhile, are more a fan of the old “wrestle them to the ground and choke them out” routine, which just isn’t as efficient
>But oh well, you’re blood is surging through your veins and the joy of battle is driving you forward
>As you and Fluttershy begin to tire—at around floor 25 or so—you lean on each other even more
>She trips an opponent with a graceful sweep of her legs and you crush into the floor with your bodyweight, feeling the rush as she passes out beneath you
>You send a man reeling with a jab to the gut, only for Fluttershy to knock him into oblivion with a single jab to the sternum
“Darling, I must say, the way you fight is *art*.”
>”Oh, I’m just t-trying to keep you safe.”
“Me? I think you might have forgotten exactly who you’re partnered with.”
>Fluttershy gives you a sly smile
>”Come on, you know you’ve always been the pretty one, and I’ve always been the fighter.”
“Well, I can certainly agree with half of that.”
>The twenty-sixth floor presents its own challenge: the guards are now clad in heavy plastic riot-armor, which would be a serious problem, if presented to anyone else
>But for the two of you?
>Fluttershy slips her hands into yours and swings you through the air like a weapon, sending you sailing towards your enemies
>You slam into them with a kick powerful enough to break bones, even through armor
>Soviets scatter before your barrage, and you make sure they stay down with some cruel foot-to-neck action
>You and Fluttershy pause before the final staircase, both of your chests heaving
>Sweat is rolling down your skin, washing away streaks of your bodypaint
>You slip your hand into hers
“Are you ready?”
>Fluttershy nods
>”M-more than that. I’m so excited! We haven’t gotten to fight like that in so long…”
“I’m practically ready to swoon. But we can save the glowing for later. For now…”
>You shove the door open, revealing a steep, utilitarian stairwell leading up into darkness
>Cries echo down the stairs from somewhere up above you
>It’s Trixie’s voice, but you can’t tell if she’s screaming in delight or agony, and her cries are mixed with the mewling of President Glimmer herself
>Fluttershy’s cheeks go red
>”Oh, my…”
>You can only groan
>The two of you fought your way through a small army, and she’s slutted her way into the president’s bedside
>Typical Trixie
“Well. I suppose we might as well get this over with.”
>You strut ahead, waving for Fluttershy to follow, until the two of you reach a heavy door, which does little to muffle the wailing coming from behind it

>You press your ear to the door and shudder
>Whatever is going on in there, you’re happy not to be a part of it, mostly because Trixie’s moans sound like a dying cow
>Fluttershy covers her face, her cheeks now glowing red with embarrassment
>”We, um… we don’t have to go in there, do we?”
“Not unless there’s a way to flush them out to meet us…”
>As soon as you say this, your eyes alight on a giant red-plastic box, surrounded by glass, with a small handle in its center
>A sign across the top reads ?????, which you hope is Ravenstvijan for “obscenely loud”
>Before you can listen to another trembling cry from Trixie’s lips, you smash the glass with your elbow and yank the handle
>Immediately, blaring klaxxons flare up throughout the building, making you press your hands over your ears
>Blessedly, they drown out the sounds from within President Glimmer’s torture-chamber
>Unfortunately, sprinklers also come to life all along the ceiling, showering you with cold water
“G-gah!’
>You dance around the hallway, trying to find shelter as the water begins to wear through your bodypaint
>The spray is resistive to moisture to a certain degree, but soon it begins to melt off of you, leaving long streaks of your pale skin showing through the material
>You hardly care about that: after all, you’re practically showing your bare butt to everyone you’ve seen in this dreadful place
>But mostly you just want to get out of the freezing cold before—
>The door to the chamber slams open, revealing Starlight’s angry white-haired bodyguard
>She’s soaked through, and behind her, you can see water splashing over the prone forms of two women sprawled atop a concrete block
>It takes you a minute to recognize the president in her slick, showy leather outfit
>However, you recognize Trixie immediately, even though she has her pants down and her ass is an angry, painful-looking red
>Starlight’s face and legs are a wet mess, and you have a feeling that isn’t entirely to do with the water cascading from the ceiling
>She’s lashed herself to the cement block, which seems like an… *unusual* method of interrogation
>Trixie doesn’t look like she was secured at all
>Currently she’s just flopped over the block, groaning as she wriggles her ravaged backside
>You take all of this in during the time it takes the slav guard to recover her wits
>”You! Enemy spy! she yells, then gestures to Fluttershy. “Kill her!”
>Fluttershy scowls
>”I, um, think I’ll have to refuse, Gilda.”
>Gilda’s eyes flick down to Fluttershy’s bare neck, and she scowls
>”Fine. Looks like I am doing this myself.”
>Without betraying any change in expression, she lunges for you, arms outstretched and ready to snap you in half
>You dive past her, and though she tries to grab onto you, your slippery nude body easily lets you wriggle free
>Your hands touch the floor, and you swing your legs up over your head in a mighty flip-kick, slamming your foot into Gilda’s chin as you do so
>She takes two steps backwards, grinning
>That blow would have shattered a lesser woman’s skull, but she looks like you barely tapped her
>Gilda cracks her knuckles, tacking a single, menacing step towards you…
>Then her foot slips in a puddle and she falls flat on her ass, cracking her head against the concrete and passing unconscious
>You share a quick glance with Fluttershy
“Well. That was easy.”
>”You just got really, *really* lucky.”
”I’ll take it,” you say, brushing your wet hair out of your face
>Your bodysuit has melted into a thin, shimmering gray film that does practically nothing to cover you
>With a shrug, you wipe it off—sure, you’re naked as a jaybird now, but anyone who gets the chance to see you is likely to meet a rough end
>Fluttershy, for her part, is clearly trying very hard to keep her eyes above your neck
>Her uniform is damp and clinging to her, and you have to admit it looks less comfortable than just letting the water run down your bare skin
“Now come on,” you say, taking her hand. “Let’s go get—“
>But when you turn back towards the torture chamber, the concrete block is empty
>Starlight’s bonds have come loose, and you can see a hidden doorway standing half-open behind one of the shelves laden with—you don’t even want to think about that
“Of course. It couldn’t be that easy, could it…”
>You sigh, and slowly advance towards the door, with Fluttershy right behind you
>The doorway leads to a small flight of steps, which ascend to a second door
>And this one opens into a three-story laboratory, complete with glowing machines, stacks of books… and Trixie
>She’s lying in the center of the room, unconscious, as far as you can tell
>You sprint forward, but suddenly lights flare in the room, blinding you
>You hear President’s Glimmer’s laughter reverberate through the massive chamber

>”Well, Agent *Three of Diamonds*…”
>Her voice is one part evil cackle, one part “I just finished crying” sniffles
>You don’t feel intimidated in the least, so you pose in the center of the room, hips jutted out to one side as the room’s blinding lights play across your bare skin
>”…it looks like I succeeded in capturing not one, but two Equestrian spies today.”
“I hardly feel captured, darling. Instead, I feel like you’ve managed to lose the only one of us you managed to hold onto.”
>”Hmm. We’ll see about that. I’d suggest looking down.”
>Your eyes drop, and you realize a thin seam runs through the metal floor, passing right between your bare feet
>”Rarity!” Fluttershy cries out
>She jumps forward to grab you, but the trap has already been sprung
>You feel the floor open under you, spilling you into a shallow pit
>Light floods the pit, illuminating what lies beneath you: a thick pool of writhing slime, extending wriggling pseudopods up into the air
>In spite of yourself, you can’t help but scream as you plunge right down into the ooze
>Your body impacts it with a rough, wet *SMACK*
>The slime is warm and pulsating, and it immediately begins to engulf your body with wet, oozing tendrils
“Fluttershy! Grab Trixie and g—“ you try to scream out, but one of the slime’s feelers finds its way into your open jaws, pushing towards the back of your throat
>It has a harsh, dirty taste, and you writhe against the gooey mass holding you in place
“Mmmf! Mmm-mmf!” is the only sound that escapes your lips
>You try to remain calm, but instinct takes over, flooding your body with flaming, nervous energy as you struggle to get air into your lungs
>You try to kick at the slime, but its mass tightens around your legs, locking them in place
>Slowly, the ooze drags you inside of it, leaving only your face sticking out
>Its warm, wet mass presses around your body like a cocoon, locking you in place as it begins to experiment with its new toy
>The tendril in your mouth probes deeper, even as you can feel the creature trying to push its way into your other orifices
>You shut your eyes tightly, feeling tears of pain and humiliation leaking from them
>This is going to ruin your hair, too…
“G-guuuuuuh…”
>You groan as you feel a pressure between your buttocks, followed by your tight, tender hole stretching as wriggling goo forces its way inside
>You try to squirm, but your entire body is locked in place: all you can do is flex your abdomen, trying to push out the invader and feeling
>Shivers race through you as more goo starts to push in from the other side, defiling your pristine flower
>”Rarity!”
>Somewhere up above you, Fluttershy cries your name, but you hardly hear her
>Is this it?
>How it all ends?
>You’re struggling to breathe, and the slime isn’t going to relent
>It’ll play with you until it strangles you
>You try to cry out for Fluttershy, but you can only choke on the foul mass forcing its way down your throat

>Surprisingly, it isn’t Fluttershy who comes to your rescue
>Though your eyes are blurred with tears, you see Trixie wriggle out of her bonds and rush to the edge of the slime-pit
>You’re sinking into oblivion now, your body wracked by agony and a filthy sense of dark delight
>Trixie grabs something up and throws it down into the pit: see glass shatter into glittering shards, followed by a splash of vivid purple-green liquid
>The slime shudders and spasms, forcing its probes so deep into you that you nearly pass out
>Then it begins to retreat as it reacts to whatever Trixie just mixed into it
>You gasp in relief as the pseudopod slithers out from your mouth, still coated in thick clear strands of your spit
>But the ooze still doesn’t release you
>You glance down at the creature’s bulky form, where you see that veins of purple and green have spread through the gooey mass
>The creature shudders, as if wounded by the foreign substance
>Unfortunately, the same veins trail right to you, and the liquid begins to seep into your body
>You brace yourself for agony, but instead you feel a wave of energizing bliss
>It’s like a caffeine rush, a post-orgasmic high, and a pleasant alcohol-induced buzz all in one
>A brief spike of pain jabs into your arms, then into your chest, and finally into your thighs
>When you look down, your body has begun to swell: not with the bulk of the slime, or with fat, but with slabs of powerful, bulging muscle
>Your lithe, dainty figure quickly fills out into that of a human tank: your thighs go from butter-smooth to rock-hard, as big around as artillery shells and with just about the same amount of destructive potential
>Your arms bulge like pythons and your stomach tightens around a row of hardened abs
>For a brief second, your spine is a column of fire as your body elongates, adding a foot or so of height to balance out your new, sturdier proportions
“Well, this was… unexpected.”
>You test your new strength against the slime, and your arm pulls free easily
>You flex your thighs, and the slime bursts from around them
“Can’t say I don’t appreciate it, though.”
>With a somewhat unladylike, bestial roar, you tear your way out of the ooze, flinging splatters of goo against the pit’s walls
>Then you crouch down, your glutes coiling like springs, and with one mighty leap you soar into the air and land back in the middle of the lab
>Fluttershy’s jaw drops when she sees
>”Rarity?” she says, her face lighting up bright red. “Um… you look a little different. N-not that I’m complaining, or anything, of course… goodness, no…”
>Far from complaining, she can hardly tear her eyes away from your FIRM, MUSCULAR BUNS
>You pose for her benefit, flexing your new assets
>The leftover residue from the slime has given your body a very flattering sheen
>Fluttershy’s fingers twitch, and you can tell she wants to feel what you’ve got but is too shy to simply go for it
>Trixie, meanwhile, doesn’t share Fluttershy’s reservations at all
>She runs over to you and starts running her hands over your abs, practically drooling
“Enjoying yourself, darling?”
>”Trixie likes what Trixie sees.”
>Her hand starts to creep a little lower…
>”And what she feels.”
>You give Trixie a “go ahead” wink
>She saved you, after all, and deserves a brief reward
>Somewhere up above you, you hear a barely-muffled shriek of jealous rage
>You turn your gaze towards Fluttershy, intending to invite her over to admire you as well
>But before you can, you hear heavy footsteps thundering up the entryway to the lab
>Behind Fluttershy, Gilda stomps into the room, looking absolutely *pissed*, in the hellish way only a Russian lady can
>An ugly bruise covers part of her head, and she grimaces in pain as she extends a finger towards you
>”You. Me. *Draka*.”
>She cracks her knuckles, and they echo like gunshots through President Glimmer's lab

“Oh?”
>You slam your fist into your open palm, and a satisfying *SMACK* echoes through the room
>Trixie squees, and Fluttershy takes a step backwards, her thighs trembling
“Are you approaching me, darling?”
>Gilda cracks her neck
>”Is looking that way, yes.”
“Then, by all means.”
>You beckon her closer
>Gilda shrugs off her heavy uniform, leaving herself dressed in a tanktop, tight-fitted leather pants, and skull-stomping combat boots
>And then she charges
>Even your steely resolve falters a bit, and for a moment you feel like a deer staring down a semi
>But you calm yourself and remain in place as Gilda barrels towards you
>You hear Fluttershy cry out in terror, and Trixie is cheering somewhere to your left
>You decide that you want to give both of them a good show
>So, when Gilda swings a roundhouse punch towards your face, you duck
>And instead of counterattacking, you wrap your arms around Gilda’s waist and twist, flinging both of you back into the pit with the remnants of the ooze
>Gilda lets out a surprised grunt, and then you both slam into the bottom of the hole
>Most of the slime is gone, leaving just a few stagnant inches beneath the two of you
>The impact splashes the goo over you, freshly coating you in its foul muck
>Gilda is soaked as well
>For a moment, the two of you are stunned from the fall
>Gilda shakes her head to clear it, and her clothing begins to fall away in scraps as the slime eats through it
>”Blyat…” she mutters
>Her cheeks turn slightly pink as everything she’s wearing disintegrates in a matter of seconds
>”Is no matter. I beat you even with my *siski* out!”
>Before you have a chance to react, Gilda wraps her thighs around your torso and flips you over
>You hit the ground hard, and then Gilda’s massive, slimy naked body is slamming into you, pressing you against the ground
>You try to scramble out from under her, but she locks her hands with yours, pinning them to the ground
>She leans in, getting really close, until you can feel her hot breath wafting over your face
>”Ha! You were thinking a fight with me would be easy?”
“Nnnf… ah… not exactly, darling.”
>”Eh?”
“That’s why I have a secret weapon.”
>”Hah! You are naked as unbuttered pelmeni! What weapon do you—“
>You whip your wet hair into Gilda’s face
>She yelps in pain and surprise, giving you just the opening you need to twist out from under Gilda and force her onto her back
>You land atop the massive woman, your legs spread, straddling her chest
>Your hands are still locked with hers, but now you pin her to the ground
>Gilda struggles beneath you, but you have your new bulk pressed right against her center of gravity
>”Ack, pizdec!” she cries out. “Western trickery!”
“I don’t think fair play has ever been a concern in slime wrestling.”
>”Agh!”
>Gilda gnashes her teeth like an enraged bear
>She squirms beneath you too, and sweat rolls down your skin as you fight to keep her pinned
>Finally, she relents, exhausted
>”Blyat! You are too strong, western harlot. I cannot beat you!”
“Hmph. Under normal circumstances, I’d demand an apology. But I suppose this will have to do.”
>You let go of Gilda and stand up
>Before she can try to pull anything, you lift your foot and slam it into her face, knocking her unconscious
>Then you clamber back out of the pit, bruised, nude, absolutely filthy, but triumphant
>Now, you can clearly see President Glimmer waiting in the wings, surrounded by her equipment
>She glances towards the door, which is blocked by Fluttershy
>Then she glances towards a somewhat conspicuous-looking bookshelf, which you’re sure has to contain a secret escape
>Unfortunately for her, Trixie is leaning against that very shelf, looking unbearably smug
>Starlight gulps
>”Please, just don’t hurt me too much.”

>You stomp up the stairs towards Starlight, your massive body shaking them beneath your feet
>Starlight shrinks against the wall as your shadow falls across her
>Her lower lip trembles, and you’re trained enough at reading faces to realize that it isn’t just fear making her shake like this
>Somewhere to your right, Trixie is repositioning herself to get a better view
>You come to a stop in front of Starlight, standing over her like a conquering barbarian surveying her prize
>”P-please…” Starlight whispers
“Darling, I think it’s far too late for mercy.”
>”Y-you’re right! I’m your prisoner of war! I’m pretty much just your property now…”
“Right you are.”
>”And after how I’ve made you suffer, it’s only fair that you inflict the same horrible punishment on me! Nobody would even know. You could defile me, torture me… u-use me…”
“Indeed, we could.”
>”And, with that body, the things you could do to me…”
“They’d be quite dreadful, wouldn’t they?”
>Starlight gulps
>She slowly turns her face up towards you, and you can see that her face is flushed, and her pupils have dilated in maddened, wanton desire
“Trixie? Fetch me a pair of handcuffs.”
>Starlight nearly swoons
>She only pretends to resist as you lock her wrist against a desk, pinning her in place
>”N-no, please! I will never submit, western scum!” she cries out, even as she raises her rear end up towards you. “Do to me what you must! Break my body! Flay the skin from my back! Beat me until I cry! But you’ll never break my spirit.”
>Starlight wriggles her hips, and she arches her back until her leather tube-skirt rides up her back, flashing her soaked panties at you
“Well, I suppose that’ll be enough,” you say, and you turn and head back to your friends
>”H-huh? Enough what?”
>A slight note of desperation is entering into Starlight’s voice now
>”I’m your prisoner! By all rights, you can do whatever you want with me.”
“And that’s exactly what I’m doing, darling. Besides, I need to save my energy.”
>Already, you feel exhaustion creeping into your muscles as your body slowly shrinks back down to its normal size
>By the time you reach Fluttershy, your lithe figure is in the same runway-model as always
>Fluttershy, blushing and still trying to keep her eyes above your neck, passes you Gilda’s discarded jacket
>You wrap yourself in it, grateful to finally be able to cover a bit of your indecency
>”Wait! Where are you going!? I’m an enemy of your state! Your whole way of life! Ravage me! Break my spirit.”
“That sounds like a hellish amount of work. Besides, a certain someone else deserves punishment far more than you.”
>”Trixie agrees! Fluttershy endangered our whole organization by letting herself get caught, and—“
“I’m talking about you, dear.”
>” What did Trixie do!?”
“It’s more what you *didn’t* do. I had to choke out nearly three-dozen guards while running around in my birthday suit, thanks to you.”
>”But you should be thanking Trixie! That sounds like the best evening ever!”
“Hmph. Well, maybe I’ll strip *you* naked and parade you through the base. How does that sound?”
>Trixie just smirks
>Behind Starlight utters a strangled cry, pulling in vain against the cuff around her wrist
>”No, me! Me! Do it to meeeeeeeeee!”
>You slip your hand into Fluttershy’s, and she nuzzles up against you as the three of you strut out of Starlight’s lab, leaving her crying and miserably pleasuring herself at the same time

>With the knowledge she gained from being mind-controlled, Fluttershy leads the two of you to a hangar bay, where you manage to steal a small aircraft
>As it buzzes through the sky, an auto-pilot course set for Equestria, you and Fluttershy recline in the cargo hold, lying atop a palette of grain sacks and curled up against each other
>”Rarity?”
“Yes, dear?”
>”You, um, said you had something you wanted to tell me after all this?”
“Ah, ahem. Right.”
>Blotches of heat touch both of your cheeks
“I could be a lot more eloquent about this. But I think I love—“
>Before you can finish, Trixie kicks the door to the cargo bay open and storms in, carrying an entire kettle drum of vodka in her hands
>”Whoo! Another day, successfully saved by the greatest and most powerful of agents, Codename: Illusionist!”
“Trixie!”
>”Time to party like it’s Cold War II!”
>She upends the keg, though she gets more of the vodka on her face and down her shirt than in her mouth
>You turn back to Fluttershy
“Darling, I love you. There, I said it.”
>Fluttershy goes silent, aside from a tiny *eep*
“And while you figure that out, I’m going to go twist Trixie’s head off her body.”
>”Gotta catch Trixie first!”
>She spits a big mouthful of vodka at you, nearly missing you
“Oh, it is ON!”
>You throw yourself at Trixie and she narrowly escapes, skipping towards the front of the plane with you hot on her heels
>Fluttershy sinks into the bed of grain sacks, laughing so hard she can hardly breath
>Just another day of saving the world