When Sweetie Belle woke up, she was naked. This was not an uncommon occurrence for the unicorn, but nine times out of ten it usually meant trouble.
 
She blinked, examining her surroundings of the room she was in. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all painted off-white, the only things that stood out were the metallic door in front of her, and a small vent in the corner of the ceiling.
 
Sweetie rolled her neck from one side to the other, groaning in exhaustion. She tried lifting up her right arm, her left arm expectedly tugged along. She didn’t know what was around her wrists, but handcuffs seemed to be a good guess. At the very least, she could see what was around her ankles. They looked like miniature metal stockades, a block of metal around her legs that didn’t allow her the same luxury of wiggle room that her arms had.
 
Before she could truly assess her situation, the door opened. Standing in the doorway was a pony, donning a white mask with purple swirls on the cheeks, the eyes completely black to obscure the face, and a black body suit to obscure species, cutie mark, coat color, and even mane and tail style. “Ah, Sweetie-Do-Well,” the voice was distinctly male, but unfamiliar to her. “How pathetically predictable. I thought that you may surprise us by giving us a challenge trying to capture you, what a shame.”
 
“Release me, y-you villain! Or else-” Sweetie Belle started defiantly, before the pony hushed her with a finger to her lips.
 
“Yes, yes, ‘Or else I’ll unleash justice on you’, I’ve heard those cliches before. Your two friends said the exact same thing to me when we captured them, too. Honestly, you girls have no originality.” he scoffed.
 
Sweetie Belle growled. Five days ago, Scootaloo had suddenly vanished, the next day after Apple Bloom told Sweetie Belle she had a lead to find their friend, she vanished as well. A day later, Sweetie Belle had gotten an anonymous package. Inside was a map leading to an abandoned warehouse in Manehattan, and a tape. Playing it showed scenes of her two friends, gagged, blindfolded, and moaning. She could only see their faces on the tape, but she knew her two superhero friends were in deep trouble. And so, donning her Mare-Do-Well costume, she set out to Manehattan to save them. Sweetie’s last clear memory was of arriving at the docks, before everything became a blurry mess.
 
“Where are they?!” She barked out, gritting her teeth.
 
“Now, now, no need for hostility. We were just about to take you to them,” the pony said with a carefree shrug.
 
As if on cue, two more ponies had walked into the room, both of them wearing the same black bodysuits, but masks with different designs on them. Without saying a word, they picked up Sweetie Belle and carried her out and into the adjacent room.
 
The room she was brought to had was larger, reminiscent of a museum. On the wall opposite the door, there were three mannequins in glass cases, held up by a pole from the base that locked the ankles together with cuffs, bars that wrapped around the shoulder and under the arms, and metal bracelets attached to a bar on each side of the case. Each one donning the outfits of her friends, with the one on the left containing her own costume. Upon closer inspection, each base had an engraved message. The one that contained hers said “Our captured heroine Mare Do Well”.
 
The stolen costume displays were the least of Sweetie’s concerns. On the left wall was a series of three large purple lockers, each one had the cutie mark of one of her friends, with her own cutie mark on the right. Above the cutie mark was an electronic display, with a name, the words ‘Long Term Mode’, and a timer counting the hours, minutes, and seconds towards zero. A chill went down Sweetie’s spine upon seeing how large the numbers were. There were more masked, anonymous ponies in this room, staring down at electronic tablets, she couldn’t get a clear view, but she was certain that she saw an orange foot on one of the screens.
 
One of the ponies grabbed onto the handle to Sweetie’s locker, pulling it out to its entire length. Gray bars ran horizontally across the back. On each side, there were thick rectangular bars with shackles and thinner, cylindrical arms with devices that had fuzzy pink interiors attached to the yellow circular joints. There were more holes on the sides of the locker, presumably for extra accessories.
 
“Welcome to your new home,” the voice said, gesturing to the storage device.
 
Before she could even protest, the two ponies carrying her turned her around and started strapping her in with the help of the other ponies in the room. Two ponies held her arms at a ninety degree angle, hands up and palms forward, as two other ponies began attaching the shackles to her wrists. After her wrists were taken care of, they began sliding a connected set of silver rings with pink padding around her fingers, similar to brass knuckles. However, instead of sliding all the way down, they comfortably sat just below the fingertips. A similar ring was put on her thumbs, which attached to the contraption around her fingers.
 
The horn ring she had on was swiftly swapped out for a second one, with straps attached on both sides. Said straps were then pulled taut around her head and across the bar to buckle into a slot on sides of the container, effectively keeping her from moving her head in any direction.
 
A similar process that was done to her wrists was now being done to her ankles, the main difference being that there was a spreader bar between her legs. Her toes were forced to point down as the masked ponies slipped rings on her big toes. The rings were connected to a pad that was placed on the top of her foot, which attached to the shackles on her ankles, and much like the things around her fingers, what was attached to the top of her foot felt fuzzy.
 
The thick rectangular bars in the middle extended forward, pressing rounded plates against Sweetie’s thighs. The straps on the sides wrapped around her legs to keep them in place like athletic pads.
 
A leather harness was also put on Sweetie, one strap around each of her shoulders, one right below her breasts, and one y-strap to connect the three together.
 
The cool temperature of the room chilled Sweetie's naked body, and she started to shiver with what little wiggle room she was given.
 
“I do hope you’re comfortable in there,” the pony Sweetie first encountered said. “Do rest assured that when we’re done, all three of you will be leaving this place together. As the loyal pets of our very generous benefactor.”