Horse Prison Thread Story 4: *Warning* Brussels Sprouts

>The mare cautiously pokes her head into your cell
>Her owlish blinking betrays the fact that she can hardly see
>Perfect
>"Uh- Um, hello? Is anypony here?"
>You clear your throat, watching her head snap to where you sat on the bed
"Enter."
>The mare audibly swallows before leaving the wedge of light from the door
>Her hoofsteps echo ominously in the confined cell and you can see her become more and more perturbed with each step she takes
>When she is mere feet from you you give a quiet command
"Stop."
>She stops
"Sit."
>Her rump hits the floor with a muted thump
>You watch her strain to make out anything in the dark, her tail curled around herself protectively
>You can't help but feel as though she were a foolish prey beast, walking into its predator's den
>She can feel it too
>Her eyes dart around, desperately trying to see what awaits her
>Eventually, you grow tired of waiting
"Speak."
>She starts shaking before opening her mouth
>All that comes out is a muted squeak
>The mare flinches back before lick her lips, swallowing and trying again
>"Uh, I... I-"
"Name first."
>She flinches again and whimpers quietly before working up the courage to speak again
>"M-my name is..." she lets out a shaky breath, "My name is Sprout, Brussels Sprout."
"What business do you have with me, Ms. Sprout?"
>You lower your voice, smiling as it rumbles off of the wall
>"I h-heard you trade... trade favours with ponies."
>You quirk an eyebrow. You know she can't see it, but just in case...
"And where did you learn of this, Miss Sprout? These kinds of things would be a very sensitive topic."
>At the word 'sensitive', you lean forward, bed creaking, and brush Brussels' blueish bangs out of her eyes
>She flinches away from the contact before leaning back in again
>"U-um, nopo-, nopony told me anything I sw-"
>You cut her off with a finger rubbing on her ear
>She flinches away again but you don't let go
>She quickly leans forward again closing her eyes and biting at her lower lip
>You lean in, bringing your lips to her ear
"I think I know who told you. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."
>You practically growl the last part out and blow gently on her ear
>You could swear that she was sweating
>Do ponies sweat?
>Cookie sure was trying last nigh, goddamn
>"Th-thank you, Mr. Anonymous."
"Please, call me Anon. We are going to be partners, after all."
>The mare is practically quivering
"But first, what is your proposal, Miss Sprout?"
>"Uh, mmm."
>No response
>You lift a finger off of her ear and her eyes snap open
>"Oh! Um, I work as a cafeteria mare in the veggie section."
>Ah, now it makes sense
>Poor girl is lonely
>Veggies are a mandatory part of the dinners here, but almost every prisoner does their best to skip that line
>It's almost sad really
"And?"
>You lower your voice again, commanding her to continue
>"A-and I was- Ah!"
>She gasps suddenly as your other hand comes into play, gently rubbing her neck and withers
"Miss Sprout?"
>You prompt the poor mare
>It's too easy, really
>"I propose that you get and extra hooful of carrots during snack time in exchange for fifteen minutes of... Um..."
>Sprout cuts off, drifting into silence
"Of?"
>Your query hangs
>You can practically hear her blush
>Then, quietly, so quiet you have to strain to hear it
>"For fifteen minutes of scratchies a night."
>She practically rushes through it, stumbling over her own words
>You idly scratch at her ear and back, considering her offer
"Add in a hoofful of broccoli and I'll give you forty-five minutes every Tuesday and Thursday after lunch."
>You watch her breathing slow as she mulls over your counter offer
>As she thinks, you run a finger over her collar bone, while your other hand scratches under her chin
>As it stands, your offer was very generous, she would be a fool not to take it
>Sprout closes her eyes and hums again, lost in thought
"Miss Sprout?"
>She focuses again
>"You are very generous, Anon. I accept your offer with one condition."
"Oh?"
>"You call me Sprout during out sessions."
>You smile at her directness
"Very well, Miss Sprout. We start tomorrow."
>You give her hoof a firm shake that she weakly returns
"Now, out with you. It's almost afternoon snack time and I'm feeling rather... Ravenous."
>She tenses back up at your questionable wordchoice before letting go of the breath she was holding and quietly trotting out the door

>Next day: Snack Time
>You stop by the veggie station, ready for your extra helping of cellulose
>You catch Sprout's eyes as she lifts an extra hoofful of carrots and broccoli from the dish
>Holding her gaze while she guides the ladle, you give her a small, gentle smile
>Her hoof is practically shaking
>As the last of the veggies lands your smile widens
"Thank you, Sprout."
>The ladle clatters to the tray and Sprout stutters something back, blushing furiously
>Laughing to yourself, you sit down with your homeboys de jour and regale them with your feats of Baddassitude.