Rusted shackles rustled in the cold, damp basements. Columns of cages hung from the low-lying ceiling, carrying the crowds of obedient cargo. They knew not to scream; they knew not to shout. For so long had those mares been contained, many of them had forgotten the bountiful gift that is Celestia's warm-awaiting sun. Soft whispers could be heard in confinement, but only rarely did the mares ever peep.

CherryFairworth, a pony whose mind corrupt by the flames of submissive-destruction, peered wearily at her shaking hooves. She had a coat of chalky white and a mane of much desired reds, both hardly visible in the darkness of the warehouse. Though her body was in solitude, her mind was elsewhere. She thought of her young filly, a child whom she left for independence, only to be found captive in a place where she lie now. As she looked upon the plumes of descending dust, she saw each neighboring pony gathered in individual cages, abducted from the world as she had. Many of them had given up and submitted to their captors, leaving fate to blame. Cherry sighed, digging into the iron cage's base with whatever was left of her aching hooves.

"10A.M." Thought Cherry, her head rising to the sounds of opening doors and trotting hooves. Somepony was coming.

Cherry was new in the group of cage-bound postage. She'd only been there a week, which was enough to get the rest of the captives talking. According to them, another pony by the name of VioletVictoria was listed as the last capture before export, why Cherry made the cut became a hot topic in the lowly band of to-be slaves. Many thought she was a spy to check on the behavior, thus, nopony would dare speak to her. Others believed she was to be a personal mascot or some sort of copulation servant for the rumored, "Silas". While these running theories became widely accepted, one in particular stood out, making a larger impact not to the captives, but to Cherry herself.

"Maybe they're trying to get in the head of somepony outside?"

The tip-tattering of "wealthy" hooves alarmed the prisoners as the colt walked by. Cherry was certain he came for her. His flashy mane and special clothing made it clear this wasn't the regular day-job inspector; this was someone important. Mares held their faces away, avoiding him like a deathly plague flooding the room. They feared him for his reputation and attitude toward others, but he was only here for one. The colt stopped in front of Cherry, keeping a close eye on her aspects. He scanned her up and down until not a hair was left untouched by his optical expertise; Cherry shuttered in disgust, but the colt only laughed, muttering to himself in a filth-coated manner,

"Perfect," the shaded horse grinned, chuckling through the cracks in his smile, "You'll do just fine."

He pulled out a small, rusted, black iron key from his jacket's left pocket and placed it in the keyhole of the cage; he licked his lips, tasting his future desire as he ran his tongue along the mare's still, and petrified hind-legged hoof,

"You and I," He whispered, leaning in toward the mare's innocent, emerald eyes, "are going to have some fun."

The affluent colt whipped out a sheer, white cloth and pressed it hard against the mare's muzzle. Within seconds, CherryFairworth fell into a dizzy haze as she clutched herself, hoping to protect whatever she could from the business pony's steaming, heat-driven hooves. She wept but a single tear, falling to the ground as greed dragged her limp body across the concrete floor. It was a life she needn't want, but instead, was given anyway. As her mind dissolved into putty, she could blame herself for why this had to be.

"Was it because I left my ShiningStar?"