>It kind of creeped you out at first.
>The way she never talks, that is.
>She CAN talk, she just almost never does it.
>Or that's what they told you anyway.
>You've been looking after her for a week, and she's not spoken a word yet.
>A chirp, maybe. A sigh or grunt here and there.
>But never an actual word.
>Applejack told you it's a trust thing.
>When Derpy is ready to trust you, she'll talk.
>Fluttershy told you it's a comfort thing.
>When Derpy is comfortable with you, she'll talk.
>From what you've seen, though, it's neither one.
>It's a fear thing.
>For some reason you don't understand, Derpy is terrified of you.
>Spending her life in constant terror can't be good for her.
>For her sake, something must be done.
>Either you show her that she doesn't need to be afraid of you....
>Or you leave.
>You have one week.
 
>Monday.
>It's not really routine yet, but getting there.
>You wake up when she does, to make sure she gets ready for work.
>She's a mailmare.
>You're not sure if she's actually good at her job or if it's pity on her boss' part.
>Either way, it takes a bit of work to get her presentable in time.
>Mostly because she's perfectly willing to go straight from bed to work.
>In fact, the first day, she left and was sent back before you even woke up.
>Today, though, you're up and on time.
>The first order of business is getting her clean.
>She hates baths.
>She hates showers.
>In general, she hates being touched if the intent is cleaning her.
>You're not sure if that's natural for her, or if her previous caretaker got fired for more than negligence.
>You'd like to kick his ass either way.
"Let's get you cleaned up for work."
>She just groans at you plants herself on the floor.
"You don't want to be late, do you?"
>For having wonky eyes, she's pretty good at pouty glares.
>You get her to the bath eventually, mostly by strong-arming it.
>Which is where things go pear-shaped.
 
"Please get in the tub."
>You've wasted five straight minutes trying to cajole her into letting you clean her.
>You'd rather let her wash herself, but last time you did that ended with the bathroom flooded and Derpy half-drowned.
>At least when you're the one doing the washing, it's fast and under control.
>Even if it takes forever to get started.
"Look, it's two minutes in the water and you're done."
>You try to convince her by splashing with your hand, the universal sign of "get in this motherfucking water"
>She stays put, braced to keep you from just lifting her into the tub.
"Look, it's gonna get cold if-"
>You're only half-awake.
>Until you slip and bang your ribs against the rim of the tub.
"GODDAMMIT!"
>Stings like a bitch.
>Definitely gonna bruise.
>Before you even have time to realize you just swore in front of Derpy for the first time, about half the water in the tub comes splashing all over you.
>She's jumped right in, eyes wide and ears drooping.
>She pretty obviously thinks you're mad at her, you can hear a quiet whine in the back of her throat.
>You manage to choke back your cursing, and try to smile.
"H-hey, I wasn't yelling at you just then."
>She flinches when you talk.
>You didn't really even do anything but you feel like shit for scaring her.
>You try to explain that everything is ok, but she doesn't respond.
>Eventually, you just get down to washing her so she won't be late.
>For once, she doesn't fidget or squirm or move at all as you get her clean.
>Even when you accidentally pull a knot in her mane.
>What the hell did the last guy do to her?
 
 
>She doesn't snap out of it until breakfast.
>It's light, just some leftover salad from last night.
>She digs in anyway, acting like she's actually ok.
>Maybe you're reading too much into her hatred of baths.
>While she eats, you change out of your wet shirt.
>She's perked up some by time you get back.
>She's also managed to get salad dressing all over her face.
>At least she looks happy.
>Until she sees that you're back.
>Immediately, she's back to sitting sullenly and trying to look behaved.
>Whatever, you don't have much time until she has to be off for work.
>At least she's close enough back to normal to fuss and whine as you wipe the dressing from her muzzle.
>She practically bounces out the door once you put her saddlebag on her.
>As usual, she only seems happy when she's not around you anymore.
>You sigh to yourself, and clean up the messes in the kitchen and bathroom.
>Derpy's room gets a straightening too.
>You make her bed, pick up the knocked-over toys and put away the clothes she's strewn across the floor.
"Huh?"
>There's something in the back of her closet.
>It takes a bit of wiggling, but you pull it out into the light.
>It's a box.
>Wouldn't be unusual, except it's a got an unlocked padlock on it.
>Curiosity beats out the desire to respect her privacy.
>Especially since you want to understand her better.
>You open it.
".... the hell?"
>The first thing you see is a riding crop.
>Black leather, looks expensive.
>Under it..... a bridle.
>Same black leather, scuffed slightly.
>Well-used.
>And under that.....
>A fucking bit gag.
>You think you've got an idea of what her last caretaker did to get fired.
 
>You shove everything back in the box and stuff it back in the closet.
>What the fuck.
>You don't even know what to think.
>Part of you says take that shit to Twilight.
>She's a genius or something, she'd know what to do.
>Part of you says to keep it buried.
>For all you know, everypony might just say they're YOURS. Not like they've seen how Derpy acts out of public.
>One thing is certain, you're not letting Derpy know you found that stuff.
>Just being around you is stressful for her, that bdsm crap isn't gonna help her any.
>You're too keyed up from finding that stuff to go back to sleep like you usually do.
>You lay on the couch, trying to nap, but it doesn't work.
>Who do you talk to about this?
>There's gotta be some kind of social services or something to report this to.
>Then you blink, and suddenly the lighting in the room is totally changed.
>The sun is streaming in through the windows.
>Guess you fell asleep after all.
"Oh, crap."
>You yawn, and realise that's not all that's changed.
>Something is pressing against your side.
>Derpy.
>She's curled into a ball against you, one eye staring up at your face.
>And she's wearing the bridle and gag.
"Fuck!"
>You try to jump up, but it's hard to move without knocking her to the ground.
>Instead, you press away from her.
>She falls to the floor anyway.
>With her side not pressed against you, you can see that her flank is covered in whip marks.
>She's crying, but no sound is coming past the gag.
"Holy shit..."
>You instinctively reach out to touch her, and you see that you've been holding the riding crop the whole time.
>You wake up.
 
"Ffff-"
>You stop yourself from dropping the bomb when you notice that the dream wasn't entirely false.
>Derpy is indeed pressed against you.
>Sans fetish gear this time.
>Thank the Goddess-Princesses.
>She looks up at the sound of your voice.
>Seeing that you're awake, she jumps off the couch, bumping into the coffee table in her rush to get away.
"....uuuuck."
>At least you were on your back and not your side, so she wasn't pressed against your morning wood.
>You've got enough to worry about without feeling like a sexual deviant for involuntary bodily actions.
>You lightly slap yourself to wake up, getting off the couch.
>Now that Derpy is back, you need to put away her bags and make sure she wasn't shorted on her daily pay.
>It doesn't happen often, but other ponies sometimes con her out of her money.
>Luckily, that's not the case today.
"Hey, where'd ya get to?"
>You call into the house.
>It's time for her morning snack.
>As usual, she doesn't respond.
>You check the usual spots.
>Her room, the garden.
>Not in the bathroom either.
"Derpy...?"
>Last room to check is yours.
>You've never actually seen her go in there, though.
"You in here?"
>And there she is.
>She's just sitting on the floor, blinking in your direction as her eyes roll around to try and focus on you.
>Yeah..... kinda creepy.
"Uh..... you hungry?"
>She nods, but doesn't move otherwise.
"You wanna eat.....?"
>Again, she nods but stays put.
>Okay then.
"Come on, let's get you a snack then."
>Finally, slowly, she stands up and plods over.
>You step to the side to let her pass.
>She stares up at you with one eye.....
>And then slowly heads for the kitchen.
>You're not sure what her deal is sometimes.
>Or most of the time.
 
>But she is pretty pleased when you give her a carrot to eat.
>She even hums a little.
>Your brain, ever the scumbag, decides that carrots are now like bananas.
>Just as she's rubbing her hooves up and down it to straighten out the little hair-thin roots.
>Your brain is a real asshole sometimes.
>You manage to pull it out of the gutter pretty quickly though.
>The crunching sounds help with that.
>You know it's because you found that box.
>You'd never entertained even a passing sexual thought involving Derpy before that.
>But that's all it was.
>A passing thought.
>You keep that firmly in mind, so you don't feel like too much of a failure as a caretaker.
>She devours the carrot pretty quickly.
>And without much mess, which is nice.
>For a bit, she even smiles at you.
>Fuck leaving in a week, you're not going anywhere.
>Your new mission is to make her smile like that all the time.
>You smile back, and she immediately recoils.
>Way to go.
>You force yourself to keep smiling.
>You don't want her to know that your mood is largely dependent on hers.
>Fuck, maybe you should leave after all.
>A female caretaker would probably be better for her.
"So...."
>You try and think of something, anything to focus her attention on something other than you.
"Wanna go into town?"
>She thinks about it for a moment.
>You could swear she looks suspicious of you.
>Thankfully, she nods.
>You make sure to put a muffin in a baggie in your cargo pocket before you head out.
>It's the only thing that can get her to come back if she decides to go play in the clouds.
>You head out.