Octavia raced from the café as fast as her legs would allow her. Tears blurred her vision as she ran down the cobbled streets, turning people and buildings into streaks of indiscernible light as she raced by them. She didn't know where she was going, but she knew why: she needed a refuge; somewhere, anywhere, it didn't matter; just some place where she could gather herself together.

After bumping into multiple people and nearly knocking over an ice-cream cart, she found that refuge. It was a brick restroom complex in the middle of a local park. Not ideal, by far, but it would have to do. She bolted inside the ladies' room and locked the door behind her, and for a good ten minutes, she sat on the toilet, bawling her eyes.

She let loose all her anger and frustration in one spasm of unrestrained emotion in the solitude of the lavatory. When her choking sobs made it hard to breath and she felt she could cry no more, she finally tried to pull herself together. Staggering here and there, she regained a little composure, as she started to piece together what had just happened and what she could do about it. This train of thought was soon foiled though, by he burning image of Vinyl playing the violin in the middle of the cafe. With each turn of the bow, she saw, as her dreams were crushed before her, and fell into a fit of tears, yet again.

After another long lapse, she took in a deep breath and blew her nose into her handkerchief. "This is the second time I've cried today," she said sinking her head in her lap. "I don't normally cry, because it isn't normal to cry. In a perfect world there would be no tears. In a perfect world, we'd all care for one another." She sniffled, wiping her eyes once again, "Oh, why does nobody care?"

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. "Occupied," she squeaked out, her voice-cracking.

A concerned voice answered back. "Miss, is that you? Are you alright?" She recognized it immediately. It was the waiter from the café: Joe.

"Did he follow me all way here?" she said under her breath.

"Miss?"

"No, I'm not alright!" she shouted in protest at the world. "I'm not alright at all!"

"I'm sorry." he said softly. "I saw you run away crying. I know it's none of my business and all, me being a complete nobody, but I guess what I'm trying to say is: why don't you come out and talk about it?"

For a moment, she was stunned. All at once, from the darkness of the abyss, there seemed to be a light shining; a single, solitary flicker, slowly descending from the heavens above, like some radial beacon of hope. Here was a stranger, an absolute stranger, who not a half-hour earlier she had been eying from across a café table, suddenly coming to her and asking her about how she felt. And for a moment, a single, solitary moment, Octavia's heart filled with gladness.

Octavia's stomach churned with butterflies as she slowly lifted herself from the toilet and made her way to the exit. All that stood between her and what lay beyond was the door in front her. She held her breath as her hooves slowly turned the lock and pushed the door open.

There he stood, his stained apron tied around him and his hat still firmly perched on his head; yet, despite his humble appearance, there was a glow of sympathy burning like a fire deep within his green eyes. She lost control of her senses and flung herself upon him, wrapping her arms tightly around his chest. She wept into his shoulder– not out of grief, but joy. Joy that somebody cared at last.

"There, there." he said holding her, "It'll be alright."

She looked up at him and smiled, her eyes red and puffy with streaks of mascara running down her cheeks. "I know," she said softly.

Over the next half-hour, Octavia confided in Joe all that happened that day. She told of him of what she had come for, and the part she was supposed to play in the recital that evening. She told him of the bus-driver and how she and Vinyl had gotten trapped out in the Great Paradise Desert and how they escaped only by two brothers who rescued them on a flying-machine; and at the last, she told him about what Vinyl had done and why it had upset her so deeply.

"Well…" he began. "You certainly have had quite the day, it seems."

"Oh, it's been awful, just awful," Octavia groaned. "And I just don't know what to do anymore."

"Hmm," Joe scratched his chin, contemplating. "There may be a way to resolve this."

"How?" Octavia asked hopefully, looking up at him.

" All of this was just a misunderstanding between you and your friend right? Well, I could wheel you in under the the Royal Palace security in one of my serving carts. I'm a regular there, so the guards never examine me. Then, you could use a tour-guide's uniform to slip in, undetected, to find your friend and sort this whole thing out."

"That's a crazy idea. It could never work..."

"You never know," he said shrugging.

She sighed in defeat. "Alright, but where am I going to get a tour-guide's uniform?"

"Didn't you say that blue pony hated her job?"

The serving cart bumped and bounced as it was pushed through the streets. Joe, dressed in his regular attire, guided it along. His demeanor cool and collected; a facade he hoped wouldn't draw any suspicion to himself as he ferried his hidden cargo to her destination. He whispered beneath the white-cloth that veiled their conspiracy as he continued on to the palace gates.

"You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Octavia answered back.

"Good, just don't make a sound. I know these people, so I should be able to talk my way through."

"Alright," she said.

"You got everything in order?"

"Yes, but I couldn't find Trixie in the museum. I don't think she would have let me borrow her uniform anyway. But I went back and I saw it lying there, and.. "

"And?"

"I stole it! Happy?"

"You got to do, what you got to do," he shrugged.

Octavia sighed. "You sure this is going to work?"

"It will, so long as you keep quiet."

It was then they approached the moat around the palace, where the bridge lay retracted inside the gatehouse. Above the ramparts, a lone sentry eyed the peculiar yellow pony wheeling the cart.

"Who goes there?" the sentry called.

"It's me!" Joe answered back.

"Me who? What's your name?"

It was then that another guard, one Joe recognized, came to investigate the commotion. "What's all the racket?" he inquired to the other.

"Somepony wants permission to enter," the first sentry told him.

The second leaned over the battlements to get a better view and yelled in excitement. "Well knock me down, it's old Joe! Come back again, have you, you old rascal!?"

"It's me, Cornelius!" Joe called to him. "Lower the gate!"

"Sure, but what do you have with you there, Joe?" he shouted back.

"Just some food I brought with me here for the Princess. Special order and all that!"

"You wouldn't be planning on sharing that?" he inquired chuckling.

"I'll tell you what; I brought a sirloin, oven-cooked, and coated in mushrooms, with some salted chips, that I was saving for myself. You can have it!"

"You were always a good un' Joe! Alright lads, lower the gate!"

It was then that a massive mechanism inside the battlement gave a distinctive 'clink' and the chains suspending the bridge to the wall started unfurling with a thundering rattle. The huge mass of bolted wood and steel lowered gracefully, entrenching itself firmly on the far bank of the moat with a dull thud. Once it had done so, Joe began to cross slowly. For a moment, though, Joe allowed himself a moment of temporary distraction as he gazed up at the massive structures of stone and mortar that loomed over him in a serene dignity – their imposing height and grandeur all but dazzling in the mid-afternoon sun.

When Joe reached the other side, the sentry was waiting for him, along with a few other privates and non-enlisted ranks. His name was Cornelius, the newly appointed Captain of the Guard. He was a burly pony, clad in armor that seemed rather ill-fitted to him. He had a prominent black beard and a connecting mustache, along with some stubble around his side-burns that gave him a rough appearance, but which otherwise betrayed his jovial and good-spirited nature.

"Joe!" he said, bear-hugging him. "It's so good to see you again!"

"It's good to see you too," Joe said, gasping for air.

He laughed, letting him go. "Still good old Joe. How's your mum and dad?"

"They're good, on their second honeymoon at the moment."

"So I heard, so I heard. Why don't you come over to the tavern with me and we'll talk about it over a flagon of brew, like men!"

"Later, I have to wheel this to the Princess first." The captain gave him a serious stare, like a dog who had preformed a trick and hadn't received his treat yet. Joe chuckled, realizing what he wanted. "You were always the shrewd one Cornelius. Alright, just as a promised." From the top of dining cart, precariously close to the top of Octavia's head, he produced the aforementioned steak.

"Ha ha! You never disappoint!" he bellowed. "Well, whenever you're done, meet me in the tavern. We'll have a good laugh or two, just like old times, eh Joe?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he said smiling, and went on his way. About mid-way across the court-yard, however, he ran into a small crevasse, that caused Octavia to bump her head and grunt a little louder than usual.

While any other pony may have shrugged it off as nothing, Cornelius noticed it instantly. "Hey, wait up a moment!" he said as he chased after him. "You wouldn't be hiding anything would you, Joe?"

"Who, me?" Joe asked, smiling innocently.

"What's under the cart?"

"Nothing." Joe replied coolly.

"Uh-huh. Corporal!"

"Yes Captain!" the guard next to him answered, standing to attention.

"Check it out."

"Yes sir!" He took the blunt end of his rather large pole-ax and shoved it under the cart, jabbing Octavia's ribs. Octavia held in a yelp, as her mind raced at a thousand miles a minute. She couldn't be discovered, not now.

She did one last act of madness to keep from being detected and answered back in a small voice: "Potatoes."

The corporal wrinkled his eye-brow. "It's nothing sir," he replied. "Just a sack of potatoes."

"Ah!" Cornelius nodded. "Never mind then. You can go on your way."

"Much obliged." Joe replied, tipping his hat, and started across the the enclosure, yet again.

As the yellow pony departed, Cornelius turned to the group of on-lookers. "What are you lot doing standing around for!? This isn't a tea party! Get back to your posts!" With his out-burst, the guards quickly scrambled back to the ramparts, tripping over one another as they went.

When Joe reached a small courtyard on the far end of the palace where he was sure no guard could see them, he stopped the cart. "Alright," he whispered, "The coast is clear." Octavia emerged from underneath the cart, dressed in Trixie's uniform.

"That was close." Octavia said, brushing herself off.

"Tell me about it." Joe said nodding. "But now you should be able to travel through the palace unnoticed," he explained."Just keep your head and don't do anything to draw attention to yourself. Just act casual."

Octavia hugged him. "Thanks for all your help. I really appreciate it."

"Sure," he said brushing her off. "When you're done, there's a secret door next to the fire-place in the servant's foyer, it will take you out to a place near the river, where you can sneak away without anyone noticing."

"Alright," she said.

"Good luck," he said, and wheeled the cart inside the two double doors that Octavia presumed went to the kitchen. As the doors shut behind him Octavia suddenly realized that she was alone.

She took a deep breath. "There's nothing to this," she said, looking around for some way to get in. "If only I knew where I was going."

Octavia wandered around the endless plazas and stone corridors of the the palace gardens until at last she found a stair-way that lead from the outside terrace to the inside of the main building.

While inside, she was vigilant, making sure to keep an eye out for guards and personnel. One false step could blow her cover and land her in some serious trouble. It was unspoken of what happened to ponies who entered the Palace without permission, but from the rumors, it was a fate that was worse than death itself.

Octavia gulped as she eyed a long corridor that she happened upon. She listened for noises or signs of people and carefully started treading toward what she assumed was a door.

It was a deafening silence, and it made Octavia uneasy. If there was noise, at least, that meant there were ponies nearby. That way, if she ran into a guard she could bluff her way out and said she had taken a wrong door or had gotten lost. With silence, she knew she was out of place and that she wasn't suppose to be there. The stakes were great, but she had to find Vinyl so she could talk some sense into her. It was the only was she could rectify this situation and regain the prize she had worked so hard.

She wandered aimlessly through the halls and chambers of the vast palace. She would sometimes peak into rooms to get a general sense of where she was at, being always careful to make sure that the rooms she entered were not occupied. This she did for a good half-hour before stopping in a rather elaborately adorned bedroom, somewhere she guessed, near the north tower.

By this point, burdened by the all that had had happened that day, she was exhausted. She eagerly, but gently, lay on the circular bed, being careful not disturb the sheets, and groaned out in frustration. "I'm never going to find her like this," she whispered under her breath.

She closed her eyes for a moment allowed herself to rest her weary head on the soft sheets, thinking over what to do next. Should she continue searching the palace or perhaps feign ignorance to find her way or perhaps yet, reveal herself and try to explain it all? So many options to choose from, and at this point, and they all seemed rather tempting.

As she lay there, basking the fading light of the mid-afternoon sun, she started to hear hoof-steps down the hall. "It's nobody," she yawned, not wanting to be parted from her momentary comfort. "They'll go on."

Soon, though, the hoof-steps started to get louder and the voice, although distant, started to form into a distinctive sound, that she recognized. She suddenly sprang from the bed, keenly aware now of her surroundings. "Surely..." she said listening closer.

She looked around the room she was in, examining it closely. Around the ceiling there were elaborate crown-moldings with interlacing designs of he sun and moon. The windows were lavishly adorned with iron wrought curtains with frill and lace, which betrayed a feminine quality hiding under the front of a room that was obviously intended for someone important.

Octavia pondered again and again until it dawned upon in a horrible instant of epiphany. She came to the awful realization, sitting on the ermine coated bed, that she was in the princess' room.

The steps were heard again, louder now than before, and for a moment, Octavia's heart sank. She couldn't be found here! Sneaking into the palace was bad enough, but going into the princess' personal bedchamber? Her punishment would be severe indeed; banished to an island to do hard labor, or being sent to the dungeon, or being forced to listen to an amateur play the cello without any rest of pain-killers. She had to hide!

She looked around, desperate to find an escape, the dreaded steps echoing ever closer from the hall. "Gotta think! Gotta think!" There was no time to think, unfortunately. She couldn't run for it, so she would have to hide. She spurred as quick as lightning to what she presumed was a closet that lay on the opposite side of the room, farthest from the exit, and gently shut the door, hoping that no one would find her.

Through the small crack in the door, she could see the entire room clearly and was able to witness, moments later, the knob turned a full ninety degrees and the door opened. It was just as she feared: Princess Celesita herself, dawned in full regalia, entered through the door and shut it behind her. Octavia moaned in her mind, silently begging some unseen force to not give her reason to come and open the closet door.

The princess, to her great relief, didn't come near the closet. Instead, she casually strolled to the other side of the room to lay her crown on the white dresser and remove her hoof braces. All the while she was smiling and softly humming to herself as she combed her hair with a gold-plated brush, care-free oblivious to everything else in the world.

"Ah, it's such a wonderful day," the Princess said to herself as she continued to comb. On any other day, Octavia might have agreed with her, but for the moment, she felt the stinging irony of it all as she tried not to make a sound inside the closet.

From out of a nowhere a bell began to ring. "Oh!" the Princess jumped excitedly, "Somepony's calling me!" She skipped gleefully back over to the dresser where a small, white telephone lay. She picked up the receiver and held it up to her ear. "Yes?" An indiscernible voice murmured and crackled over the other end. "Uh-huh, yes. Tell her to come right up, but tell her to do so slowly. Alright, bye." And she hung up the phone.

"The princess was receiving visitors?" Octavia whispered to herself. "That's strange. I didn't know anypony was even allowed to do that."

There was a knock on the door. "Come in!" the Princess said in a melodic voice.

The door opened and in stepped Vinyl. "Hey, Tia."

"Hello Vinyl," the Princess greeted her warmly.

Octavia gasped in delight. This was her chance! Her goal was in sight! All she had to do was snatch it! Sure the Princess might be upset, but there was Vinyl! She couldn't let her escape. She twisted the knob, but the door didn't budge. "Locked?" Octavia said, tugging it. "What kind of closet locks from the inside!" As she tried to open the door, Vinyl and the Princess finished their conversation, and Octavia saw her chances to talk with her slowly begin to fade away.

"Well, I'm glad you stopped by," the Princess said. "But I'm expecting company soon and I need to freshen up for them."

Vinyl smiled, "Whatever you say Princess." And left.

Octavia sighed. "And, there she goes."

"Now to freshen up," the princess said. She gaily trotted back to her bed and reclined in the same spot where Octavia had previously lay. The Princess tucked her hooves under her body and closed her eyes, and afterwards, nothing stirred in the room, not even the Princess. She merely sat there, eyes closed, perched upon her hooves.

"What is she doing?" Octavia wondered. "Is she sleeping?"

Suddenly,there was a massive explosion of flatulence that erupted from the Princess. It came so suddenly and violently that it caused the entire room to shake. The tremors shook items on the shelves and caused them to fall from their places as the furniture kicked and buckled against the floor. The princess groaned and wailed furiously; her eyes bulging out of her head as the purge continued. On and on it went, with no end in sight. It got so bad that Octavia ducked her head between her knees, sure that the roof would collapse on her at any second. But, like an Earthquake subsiding, so too did the gas slowly abate, and with a final toot, the ordeal came to an end.

The Princess, now looking serene and calm upon her bed, took a deep breath and giggled. "My my, I've been holding that one in for two weeks." She took a sniff of air and scrunched her nose. "Better crack a window," she said, and walked over to do so.

Meanwhile, in the closet, Octavia tried to hold in coughs of desperation as the poisonous fumes slowly choked the breath out of her in the stifling closet. After what seemed like an eternity, the Princess finally cracked the window, causing a flood of fresh air to fill the entire room, expelling the noxious vapors. Octavia, shaken and mortified, tried to breath in as much as she could without giving herself away.

As Octavia gathered herself together from the ordeal, there was yet another knock on the door. This time, though, the Princess answered it herself. "Ah, so good to see you again, my faithful student. Please come in." Octavia eyed through the slit and saw a purple unicorn enter.

"You called me, Princess?" The unicorn asked.

"I did indeed." The Princess began. "You've come a long way, Twilight, since you first began your magic studies, but now I think it's time we took them...to the next level."

"Are you sure...I'm ready?" she asked, a little unsure of herself.

"Of course," the Princess beamed. "But first you have to pass a test."

"What of test?" The unicorn asked nervously, "I may need to study..."

"It's alright," the Princess said moving behind her. "It's not that sort of test."

"Then..." she said, looking up at her, "What kind?"

The Princess smiled coyly, "Close your eyes."

The unicorn obeyed, slowly closing her eyes. "Now what?"

"Now..." The princess leaned in, and for a moment, Octavia's heart stopped. Her sable lips slowly descended on her student's and they seized each other in a passionate kiss. The unicorn's eyes fluttered open for a moment, surprised by the suddenness of it all, before closing again, lulled into submission as she leaned closer and deepened the kiss, moaning softly.

The Princess recoiled and nuzzled her student's neck. "Still unsure you're up to the task?"

Her student gazed up at her mentor and nodded.

"Excellent." The Princess lead the unicorn over to her bed and started to plant a series of small endearment's on her student's neck.

"Just...not so fast, okay?"

"No promises." She whispered back, and they both embraced each other in another tender kiss.

Octavia wanted to look away, she really did. The sight of the two ponies becoming intimate, even in this private setting, distressed her. At the same time though, she found that she couldn't stop herself from looking. She gazed on, with a perverse delight, as the two ponies continued to manifest their lustful desires in one another. It was a sight that was both horrifying and delightful at the same time, for she never would have guessed, not in a million years, that this is what the Princess did in her private life.

After a few moments of a wanton affection, they broke their kiss.. "Now," the Princess said between breaths, "Now...you'll learn...more."

"I'm ready," the student said confidently.

"Good girl," the Princess cooed and then maneuvered herself on her bed to where she was on all fours, looking deep into her student's eyes. "Ready?"

"Yes," he student smiled.

"I want you to spank me."

"What!?" both Octavia and Twilight said at the same time.

"Are you sure about this Princess?" The student asked, gaining a bit of her unsureness from before.

"Mmmm, yes." The Princess said. "Nothing would please me more. Now go on. Spank me."

The student nervously positioned herself behind the Princess. She bit the bottom of her lip as she slowly brought her hoof up and then swung it down on her majesty's flank with a loud 'crack'. The Princesses' eyes rolled back into her head. "Oh yeeeeees," she said, consumed in ecstasy. "Again!" she commanded, and again the student did so. "Don't stop, keep going!" Soon the student picked up the pace. The Princess, lost in euphoria, screamed with pleasure, while yelling and shouting explicit profanities between blows.

"Call me a bad girl!" The Princess moaned.

"You've been a very bad girl," the student leered and continued her relentless onslaught.

That perverse delight that Octavia had felt just moments earlier quickly vanished and was replaced by a rising feeling of vomit in the back of her mouth. She couldn't take anymore. Everything she had ever known as true had suddenly been taken and thrown out a window and then beaten with a rusty bat. She felt trapped. There was nothing she could do but close her eyes, but the shouts of the Princess still penetrated her ears. She just wanted this misery to stop.

At last though, the screams died and the spanking came to an end. The Princess was breathing heavily, her face flushed and her hair disheveled, laying prostrate on the bed. "Twilight..." she said breathing, "In the closet, there's a riding crop. Be a dear and fetch it for me."

Octavia's eyes suddenly shot open as she heard the purple unicorn turn and start for the closet. Though, for a brief moment, time came to a complete still and she turned to see what was inside the closet. All around were pieces of leather apparel and torture devices of every sort and nature, and even a medieval rack hid away in the corner. This was no closet! It was a dungeon where the Princess enacted her sick fantasies!

As soon as the purple unicorn twisted the knob, it was like a train ran her over. Octavia raced from the closet so fast that the Princess, who was keen and alert, didn't even have time to see as she bolted out the door into the hallway, racing through the palace at break-neck speed yelling :"No! No! No!" She sped past guards and staff without hesitation. So frantic to escape this nightmare, that onlookers only saw a grayish blur before she was gone.

At last she reached the haven of the servant's foyer. She tossed of her uniform and pushed in the fireplace stone that revealed the hidden passage that lead to the river. She dashed in without a moment's hesitation and shut the door behind her, running through the dark and squalor of what seemed like an abandoned wine-cellar, not looking once behind her.