Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy as Maids

Prologue

“In omnibus negotiis prius quam aggrediare, adhibenda est præparatio diligens.” Cicero

>You sit on the balcony of your mansion looking down at the city in the distance below.

>The lights from the far off city known as ponyville are but a faint reminder that you are not alone in the world.

>However much good it is for you to remember that.

>You are a simple man, with simple pleasures and a normal lifestyle.

>Your definition of a “normal lifestyle” includes a four story mansion totaling in at about five hundred separate rooms, an Olympic sized swimming pool and a thick forest surrounding your large estate.

>The definition might be a bit different than someone else’s.

>You have more money than most men dream of.

>Most of this vast wealth was acquired in travels or given as repayment for gifts to powerful friends.

>The mansion itself was built for you in repayment of a great portrait you had painted of Princess Celestria and Princess Luna.

>You lean over your balcony, twirling a half full glass of whiskey that is your only companion on this cold night.

>The lights from one of the closer houses shifts between hues of pink, yellow, purple and many other colors.

>Music can be heard from the same house, probably a good seven miles away from where you sat.

>It was quite obvious what was going on at the house.

“A party,” you muttered to your liquor as you looked off towards the celebration.

>Regrettably, you weren’t invited to the party.

>You didn’t have much time or much care to get to know the locals of ponyville.

>It doesn’t much matter. What’s another night spent with your two closest friends, Jack and Morgan?

>You refilled your emptying glass and looked at the edges of the forest.

>There was one other house that was far off from the town, a small little hut that housed a single person and a wide variety of beasts.

>You laughed and looked at your house that was probably bigger than all the houses in that town put together.

>Yet it was emptier than every last one too.

>You lived so far from everywhere else that you couldn’t just call up one of your close friends to simply do something to pass the time and loneliness.

>You couldn’t just go to a concert or something either, seeing as the nearest symphony was a good day or two away.

>You sighed.

>With a glance up at the stars you say one shooting past in the sky.

>You were never one to believe in this sort of thing, but right now you needed a wish.

“All I want right now is someone who would give me company in this cold house,” you pleaded with the stars.

>Several moments passed as you looked at the sky.

>As you waited for something you doubted would even come, you grew angry with your own fate.

>Your blessing was a curse.

>Your closest friends were a glass of whiskey and a bottle of rum.

>You lifted your glass of whiskey to your lips, finding only ice left.

>With a glance at the fine work of glassware in your hands you lifted it high into the air and tossed it far into the forest.

>The sound of shattering glass reached your ears.

>The noise from the party had faded surprisingly, probably ending due to someone’s wild actions.

>The twinkle of shattering glass faded, soon replaced by a roaring elephant.

“An… Elephant?” You puzzled to yourself, as the sound of it drew nearer, thousands of animal feet sounding like thunderous applause.

>The trees shook in the forest, moving at an alarming pace towards your house.

>As you watched the forest explode with animals, your jaw dropped.

>A stampede burst towards your house, rhinos, elephants, every type of animal that looked like it could destroy a building charging at your dwellings.

“Ah hell.”

>You stood there awestruck as the terrible beasts tore into the east side of your estate, trampling gardens and crashing into your ballroom.

>The entire house shook with their anger at some unknown force, knocking over the bottle of whiskey next to your chair.

>It was at this point that five figures followed the animals out of the forest.

>A sixth followed at the edge of the group, looking with great surprise at the destruction of the house her position allowed her to see and yours didn’t.

>They all looked at each other for a moment before one with rainbow hair running at the destruction.

>She was soon joined by one with a distinctly country styled hat, helping her round up the animals as much as possible.

>The other four remained rather close together, probably discussing something.

>A light was lit, probably from a cell phone and you saw the group clearer, only well enough to see their hair colors.

>Two had purple hair and the other two had pink hair, all of them sporting different styles.

>Truth be told they were all very attractive women from what you could see.

>They walked as a group up the hill to your manner, heading to the door under the balcony.

>It didn’t take them long before they noticed you.

“Hello, sir. I do apologize deeply for any trouble we may have caused you, but it would seem my friend’s animals escaped their pen and charged at your house,” one of the purple haired women spoke elegantly.

>She was rather formal, something you didn’t expect from anyone who lived in the back country town that was on your horizon.

>One of the pink haired girls looked down at the ground and drew her foot in the mud.

>The other pink haired one looked like she had been at the party that you could hear from the distance.

>You cleared your throat, the few glasses of whiskey clearing into the night air and into your nose as you smelled the alcohol.

“I suppose it is all right, though I do at the very least wish you four to come in out of the night so we might work out a few things,” you say in a voice you almost feel like cut through the cold air with a vial menace.

“Of course we will, darling,” the purple haired spokeswoman said for the group, pushing them all towards the house.

>As you cleared your throat again, you turned to descend the stairs into the main room where they would likely stay, if they had any sense.

>You stopped along the staircase to right a toppled suit of armor you had acquired long ago.

>Turning back towards the door and walking down the last set of stairs to the main room you saw them in the new light.

>The purple haired one that you had heard spoke earlier wore a white colored suit with three small light blue diamond shapes on the breast pocket.

>Her long purple hair cascaded down her shoulders behind her red half framed glasses, giving her a very professional look.

>Turning your attention to the other purple haired one as you moved with a slow but determined pace towards them, you took in her features.

>She wore a light purple sweater vest, and looked very much out of her element.

>Her darker purple skirt was the same color as her straight hair, longer in the back with a single streak of a light pink in it.

>For the third time since your house had a game of chicken with a small army of large creatures, you cleared your throat.

“Hello again, good sir,” the spokeswoman nearly stumbled out.

>She was obviously afraid and apologetic.

“My name is Rarity, these are my friends Twilight Sparkle, Pinkie Pie and…” the elegant one spoke and looked at each in turn, looking confused when the forth wasn’t in line.

>Pinkie Pie was wearing a pink t-shirt that was very large in the neck, exposing a yellow bra strap under it, which she nervously fixed.

>She cleared her throat and took a quick step to the side, revealing the forth of the group behind her bouncing body and pink curling hair.

“There you are Fluttershy,” Rarity spoke again, somewhat cross at her.

>Fluttershy was cowering slightly and looked surprised that Pinkie Pie had moved out of the way.

>She stood up straight and played with the sleeves on her yellow sweater, the arms of which were far too long on her.

>Her straight pink hair covered a large section of her face, but the one eye that could be seen was looking down at the ground.

>She embodied everything that could be described by the word shy.

>Her form swayed slightly in fear of me being angry at her for something, likely her animals having crashed into my house if they were hers, or out of sheer nervousness.

“It was Fluttershy’s animals that crashed into your mansion here, and if there is anything we could possibly do to begin to repay you, I for one am more than happy to help in any way possible,” Rarity once again spoke for the group.

>The rest of them nodded their agreement to this, Fluttershy nodding without meeting your eyes

“Well I appreciate the offer, but it would seem that only one of you has done anything wrong, and so I wouldn’t feel right asking any of the rest of you to help me with anything,” you said calmly.

>Twilight visibly relaxed a bit, Rarity did as well to a much lesser degree.

>Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie however, tensed up a considerable bit.

>This intrigued you.

“Thank you sir,” Twilight said quickly before receiving an elbow from Rarity.

“I insist that we all help you,” Rarity saved. “She is our friend and it just wouldn’t be right to abandon her when we should be helping her, you see mister…”

“Anon. My name is Anon Mous, and I don’t really think I need quite so much help. I only really need one or two people to serve as maids and help me clean up the mess the animals caused.”

>You turned and looked at the two girls with pink hair.

“These two will do that perfectly fine.”

>You smiled at the thought of having someone else around the house.

>You could see in Fluttershy’s face that your smile was perceived differently.

>Rarity looked astounded.

“Mister Anon, I must advise against Pinkie Pie as a maid. She isn’t the most civilized of—“ she tried to explain.

“We’ll do it,” Pinkie Pie said in a cheerful and final voice.

>The entire time, Fluttershy looked about ready to pass out.

>Rarity and Twilight looked at Pinkie like she had just agreed to kill someone.

“Pinkie, darling, you do know what a maid is… right?” Rarity asked without a hint of sarcasm, but with many layers of concern.

“I think I do: they wear really skimpy dresses and clean and cook,” Pinkie Pie said like this was casual conversation. “I already do most of that, and I’m sure I can learn how to cook something other than desert.”

>Twilight looked at her astounded.

>Rarity looked surprised at this.

“Well, if you are so sure, then I guess I can make you said “skimpy” dresses,” Rarity said almost timidly.

>Fluttershy looked like she was about to cry.

“Wonderful,” you say with a clap. “I expect you to be here at 8:00 bright and early in the morning.”

>Rarity was pushing the girls out the door.

“Okay darling, Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy will be here at 8:00 sharp tomorrow,” she said as herded the girls out. “And they will be in appropriately skimpy uniforms.” This she said with a nervous chuckle.

>As they all left the room, the door shut with a slam.

“This is going to be fun,” you say with a small smirk.

>End of day -1

Chapter 1

“The journey of one thousand miles begins with a single step” Laozi

>You woke up the next day in your comfortable king size bed.

>The sheets were piled high around you, a warm body against you.

>You roll over to find your faithful bloodhound lying next to you.

>You smile and give the old boy a pat on the head.

>Your efforts are rewarded with a joyful bark and a happy wag of the tail.

>You sit up and look past your satin sheets at the grandfather clock on the far side of the room.

>Five minutes to seven.

>You stand and walk to the bathroom.

>A half hour later you leave your room in your casual wear.

>Straightening your tie and checking your cufflinks, you more or less decide that your tuxedo is as good as it will look.

“It’s good to be loaded,” you say to yourself as you walk down the hallways and finally decide to look at the mess the animals caused.

>As you approached the east wing of your house, you weren’t surprised to see all the fallen paintings and the broken ceramics.

>You open the door to the actual carnage and are surprised to find a rhino sitting smack dab where the center of your old ballroom was.

>Your bloodhound growls at your side.

>The rhino looks at the small animal like it was a toy before laying down with a plop and seeming to go to sleep.

>Your dog barks loudly at the beast.

“Easy boy, I don’t think you can win this fight,” you say to your aged dog with a chuckle.

>You chuckle to yourself and pat your dog on the head.

>You turn and walk off down the hallway.

>Your dog gives a bark and follows you.

>You look at the time on your watch.

>Quarter to eight.

>Plenty of time to grab a quick drink and wait on the balcony for a bit.

>A few minutes later, a glass of whiskey in your hand and the sun slowly creeping up the sky, you watch as a tentative figure approaches down the path.

>It was likely Fluttershy, but where was Pinkie?

>You look at your pocket watch.


>It was less than seven minutes to eight.

>You knew that it took a good amount of time to get up the hill to your house.

>Fluttershy was likely to get here on time, but if Pinkie wasn’t running, she wouldn’t make it.

>You dismiss this with a shrug.

>If she’s late, that’s her problem.

>You were largely planning on this being an instructional day anyway.

>You took your glass of whiskey, refilling it as you turned to descend the stairs towards the door.

>As all the clocks chimed that eight o’clock had been reached, the doorbell seemed to jump in surprise to join them.

>You take a sip of the liquor and opened the door.

>The sight on the other side was probably that of many men’s fantasies.

>Fluttershy stood there, wearing a maid dress that was, as advertised, rather skimpy.

>The legs were lace and hugged her tightly, rising attractively out of the heels.

>The skirt was rather short at full stretch, seeing as she was pulling it as low as it would go.

>It was a deep black color with its white apron in the front.

>The white belt around the waist helped the contrasting colors as the black fabric followed the white apron up.

>The sleeves were short and a light lace glove continued to the hands under them.

>The dress’s front hugged her curves and revealed the body that was hidden under the sweater the day before.

>She must have had C cups or a small D given the tightness of the dress.

>As you continued observing the details of her you find her light pink hair trailing down a shoulder, a rather good contrast to the black and white of the dress and the light color that was her skin.

>With a polite cough, your attention is pulled to her facial features.

>A mad blush across her cheeks from your observations and a hand against her lips clearly showing that she was embarrassed with the dress and the attention it garnished her.

>Even without the dress she had some very cute features, from her light blue eyes to her subtle eyebrows and gentle nose.

>She wasn’t much of a model, but she had a kind of innocence about her.

“…” she barely breaths her words, but you are certain she had said something.

“Excuse me?” you asked with a calm gentleness, honestly curious at what she had said.

>She fidgeted slightly due to her extreme embarrassment.

“Sa-sir?” she said it with only a slight squeak.

>You chuckle a bit.

“Excuse my eyes. I tend to try to take in every detail I possibly can in case I decide to paint,” you explain to her with a step to the side and a motion to invite her in.

>She walks in slowly, still a bit timid because of the dress.

>As she moves a bit more into the house, your faithful companion walks down the stairs.

>The look on her face is that of elated joy at the sight of the animal.

>With a rush, she moves over to the bloodhound.

>She pets the normally cautious animal in a way that you’ve only ever seen him let you pet him.

>His tail wags behind him with wild abandon as he lies down and lifts his stomach to receive more petting.

“Oh my, what a cute dog. What’s his name?” Her timidness seems to have melted at the sight of the animal.

“That’s just Paul,” you simply answer as you walk over and pat the bloodhound on his head.

“What a cute name,” she smiled and scratched the dog behind the ear.

>Well, this shouldn’t have been much of a surprise.

>She did raise rhinos and all sorts of other animals.

>Speaking of rhinos…

“Hey Fluttershy, you take care of the animals for the town correct?” you politely asked.

>She nodded and continued petting the dog.

“Well I could use a bit of assistance in what was my ballroom, if you don’t mind too awfully much.”

>Fluttershy looked in your direction and stood, realizing that she was actually here on business and might need to actually get to working.

>She also resumed her insecurity about the dress.

>You really hadn’t noticed it, as the dress wasn’t all that short.

“Come, I’ll show you around.”

>She gives you a nod and follows you as you walk off towards the east wing, your dog plodding along beside her.

>As you walk you motion to this door or that, explaining what was behind each, whether it was your art gallery, a library, a storage room or two, and a lot of other smaller rooms.

>You get closer and closer to the ballroom you make some small note of the mess the stampede had caused to Fluttershy.

>She was your maid for at least until this mess was cleaned up after all, and it’s not like the house wasn’t a mess before the animals rushed through it.

>As you open the door and find the rhino right where you had left it, lying down in the center of the carnage that once was your house.

“Mister Snuggles!” she exclaimed and ran to the rhino that was apparently someone’s “Mister Snuggles.”

>The number of things that the name of that Rhino put into your head made you shiver.

“Mister… Snuggles?” you ask, a bit afraid at the answer you might get.

“Uh huh,” she answered, gently petting the rhino’s head. “He is actually one of my more permanent friends. He gets sick at not having enough space to roam around in. He hates small spaces.” She explained all of this in a voice that was timid yet sweet, the kind of voice that a child could understand but wouldn’t offend someone as old as you.

>You nod at her in acknowledgement.

>She really knew a lot about animals.

“It would seem that Mister Snuggles here likes your ballroom,” she said with a smile that looked innocent while at the same time was the prelude to someone asking for a favor. “Maybe…” she pushed her fingers together while she spoke, “if it’s okay with you, could he stay here?”

>This surprised you.

>You were not expecting her to ask for a favor so soon.

>She either really loved her animals, or was rather foolish.

>Or both.

“So let me get this straight,” you began calmly, “you want me to let this rhino stay in my ballroom after he pretty much leveled it to the ground last night.”

>She gave a timid nod.

“Okay.”

>She jumped up and clapped a bit, obviously too excited to remember her embarrassment.

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you mister Anon,” she spoke happily. “I’m sure Mister Snuggles will love it here.”

>It looks like he already did.

>As if the rhino had read your thoughts, he rolled over and got comfortable in the wreckage of the ballroom.

>You sighed and drank a bit of your alcohol.

>This was going to be a long day, you could feel it.

>You pulled out your phone to look at the time.

>It’s not even nine yet.

“Well, sorry to cut your time with… Mister Snuggles short, but it is about time that we ate some breakfast don’t you think?” you asked politely, turning slightly to head towards the kitchen.

>She walked behind you, still happy for Mister Snuggles.

>As you walked along the hallways towards the center of the house, you could feel yourself grow hungry.

>You also noticed that Fluttershy seemed rather impressed with the décor of the house.

>It was a rather nice house; with its rich red carpeting overtop a solid oak floor in many of the larger rooms and a much subtler stone tile work in most of the hallways.

>The walls were made of rich mahogany with several paintings adorning the walls throughout hallways and large rooms, some smaller pedestals holding vases and some old knick knacks in places.

>All in all though every room was different and decorated with as much style as you could expect from a rich man who only ever used a handful of the rooms in the house anyway.

>This handful consisting of the balcony above the main entrance, the “den,” the kitchen, the dining room you occasionally used as a place to eat, and your bedroom.

>The “den” is only ever used as your personal bar. Nothing else adorned the room besides the fully stocked shelves save for a pool table, a large sofa, a handful of chairs, a large television, and a collection of small end tables.

>Most of the room was decorated solely with paintings in large wooden frames. The walls beyond the paintings were a dark wood that eluded your remembrance, the floors, also of the same kind of wood were covered by light brown rugs, the lights consisted of a false fireplace that burned cheerfully without flame,  and small lights along the edges of the room to make up for what the chandelier didn’t hit.

>In your opinion though, the room was less a “den” and more an “overly decorated liquor cabinet.”

>You and Fluttershy approached the kitchen in silence except for your ice clinking against the glass.

>It was a wonderful silence, until Fluttershy spoke up.

“Sa-sir, isn’t it a little early to be drinking?” she asked in a whisper that barely reached your ears.

“It might be a bit early.” The question never really crossed your mind before, but there was never anyone here to ask it before either.

>She quietly continued to walk a few steps behind you, her concerns voiced.

>You reached the double doors to the kitchen only a few moments after, a light push permitting you entrance.

>The white room shined wherever there wasn’t a thick layer of dust.

>Suffice to say, the room didn’t really shine much.

“So then, Fluttershy, any ideas as to what we should have for breakfast?” you ask, a bit void on ideas yourself.

“I’m not much of a cook,” she murmured in a low voice.

“Better than me,” you encourage. “Anything is better than what I usually make. I’ll even help you if you need me to.”

“Oh okay then.”

>This girl really needed to learn how to open her mouth. Everything was such a whisper that you had to strain to hear anything.

“Hey, Fluttershy, any particular reason you are so quiet?” you asked to try to get her to open up a bit.

>She nervously walked over to the refrigerator to see what there was to cook with.

“Well,” she began, her voice like a cold breeze, “the dress certainly isn’t helping.”

>That wasn’t even your fault. Pinkie was the one who suggested it.

“Take that one up with the no show,” you defended.

>She pulled out some pancake mix and a bit of buttermilk from the fridge.

>As she turned and began speaking to you, you finished what little liquor was left in your glass.

“She was the one who suggested it, wasn’t she?” she spoke as she began to make the pancake batter.

“Speaking of Pinkie Pie, where is she?” you asked, already more or less knowing the answer.

“Well, she was at that party almost all night. She didn’t get to Rarity’s boutique for her fitting until three. I’d think she was still in bed right now. Sorry,” she explained for her friend.

>You nodded and set down your glass on the counter, moving to grab a skillet to cook the pancakes on.

“Am I not working fast enough?” she worried. “I’m sorry, I’ll cook faster.”

>She really was a worrier, wasn’t she?

“You’re doing fine, I just want to help a bit is all.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry,” she apologized again.

>It was quite obvious to you that a topic change was in order.

“So you take care of a lot of animals right?” you ask curiously.

“Oh yes. I take care of chickens, flamingos, bears, you name it. I love animals.” Her voice for once was loud enough that you could hear without straining, not to mention how happy she sounded to talk about it.

“Don’t forget the rhinos,” you add with a light chuckle.

>With this she froze in her mixing.

“Something wrong Fluttershy?”

>She shook a bit.

“I’m sorry. I was sure I closed the gate on the large animal pen. I don’t know how they got out,” she blurted out in explanation, obviously taking the joke the wrong way.

“Fluttershy, it’s fine. I honestly don’t mind too much,” you tried to calm her.

>She returned to mixing the batter in silence.

>A few minutes passed that felt like hours as you finished setting up the skillet and the pancakes started cooking. It took her quite some time to calm down to the point of speaking again, and at that point, the pancakes were done and the table was all set.

>As you sat down, you noticed that she stood back a bit and looked like she wasn’t going to join you in the meal.

“Aren’t you gonna eat some too?”

>She shook her head and nervously shifted her weight on her feet.

“Oh come on, if you don’t there will be leftovers.”

>At this, she fidgeted again, her position changing both figuratively and literally.

>You push a chair out from under the table for her to sit in with your foot.

“Come on. I don’t bite,” you joke.

>Now she was finally moving to eat some food too, pulling the indicated chair out further and sitting only slightly awkwardly.

“Yes sir,” she whispers as she sits.

>You chuckle at her formalness.

“Fluttershy, I have a name, and I’m not so much of a snob that I don’t like it when people use said name. So please, no sirs, masters, misters or any others. Just call me Anon,” you calmly explain.

>With the faintest hint of a smile she nods her head.

“Okay Anon.”

>With that business done, you decided to start eating something and quickly took some pancakes and placed them onto your plate. Once you were done, Fluttershy did the same. Deciding against eating the pancakes dry like a filthy animal, you put some butter and syrup onto the fluffy discs that was breakfast. Once again, Fluttershy followed your cue.

>With your plate made, you began eating. It wasn’t a bad meal, in fact, for something that you had helped make, it was very good. Fluttershy was a rather good cook, and you would keep her as a maid for as long as possible for this reason alone. A man as rich as you shouldn’t be eating burnt pancakes, bagels that look like charcoal and roman noodles, period.

>After you finished consuming every scrape on your plate, you lean back and your seat and look at Fluttershy, who has done similar. You drink the melted ice from your glass. She notices this with what can only be described as shock.

“Sorry sir, do you want me to refill that?” she asked, rising from her chair. ready run off wherever the liquor was.

>With a cough, you stand up as well, gathering your dishes and hers into a neat stack.

“It’s all right Fluttershy. You don’t have to do everything for me. If I need a drink, I can get it myself. Also, what did I say about calling me sir?” you lightly reprehend her, topping it off with a joking wag of your finger.

“So sorry sir,” she apologizes with a small giggle.

>You chuckle as you take the plates to the kitchen and set them down next to one of the sinks. In a moment you walk off to find some soap to clean them with.

>Upon finding it, you return and find that Fluttershy had already started the water in preparation.

>In mere moments, the soapy water is ready and you and Fluttershy clean up after the meal in a silence that felt much warmer than any earlier.

>A quick glance at your watch showed that the day was in fact progressing and that half past ten had rolled around only a few moments ago. Time flies when you have company.

>Almost in reply to the thought of having company, the front doors explode open with such force that you can hear it though you were a good five rooms away.

“I guess Pinkie woke up,” Fluttershy speaks in one of her quieter voices.

>Well, looks like the party has arrived.

“Well, let’s not keep her waiting,” you say with a sigh.

>At least the tour would be easier now.

>As you walked back towards the main doors with Fluttershy close behind you, you puzzled out the events of last night as best you could.

>From what you could make out, Pinkie Pie had some connection to the stampede of animals.

>What that was though, you could only guess.

>After working through the labyrinth that is your hallways, you arrive at an empty front room.

“So, Fluttershy, any clue where she is?” you ask the timid woman.

>You turn and look at her, finding a large snickering grin on her face. With a burst of laughter, she falls on the floor, laughing her ass off.

“Fluttershy?” you question her and the out of character display.

“Yes Mister Anon?” her voice comes from behind you, towards the doors.

>Confused you try to look at both Fluttershys at once, which only causes more laughter from the one on the floor, and only a small smirk and a slight giggle from the other.

“Confused Mister pervert?” the laughing Fluttershy asks in a voice very different than earlier.

>The jester of a Fluttershy stood, still snickering as she grabbed a zipper hidden by her hair and, with a single quick motion, unzipped herself from a full body suit.

>The sight underneath was… unexpected.

>There stood the girl you had been told was Pinkie Pie, living up to every expectation you had for her. She wore a wide grin brightly, still giggling slightly, despite the fact that with the remove of the body suit, she had removed the only article of clothing she was wearing.

“Surprise!” she exclaimed and stood there like Vanna White, shamelessly displaying herself for any and all onlookers.

>To be completely honest with yourself, she had every reason to. You half expect that if you had a body like that, you would display it at every possible opportunity too.

>Her skin was ever so slightly tanned without any sign that the flesh was ever marred by bikini lines. The tan was of such quality that if her skin had any imperfections, it was impossible for anyone to make out. She was not muscular, but looked as though she could have easily been a model with her proportions.

>As you looked back at her face, you noted that her breasts were easily Ds. In the short amount of time you had been looking at her, you noticed the slight blush that had traced itself across her cheeks.

>She bent over to the body suit, taking the maid outfit off of the realistic looking copy of Fluttershy and putting each piece on with an almost teasing grin and an agonizingly slow speed. You were sure minutes passed in silence as she put each piece on.

>You shook your head for a moment in an attempt to regain your senses.

>You were disoriented in every possible way, simultaneously hating and praising the light buzz from the early alcohol for confusing you and for probably being the only thing causing your body not to immediately plunge into that joker with a mad lust.

“Why did you do that Pinkie?” the question you were thinking was asked by the other girl in the room.

“I thought it would be a funny surprise, and boy was it,” the giggling fiend replied.

“I think you may have put Mister Anon into shock,” Fluttershy worried.

>You were defiantly shocked. That was for sure. Finding your vocal chords, you cleared your throat.

“Your name is Pinkie correct?” you ask in a purely professional voice.

“Uh huh Mister Pervert,” she almost teased. “Pinkimena Diane Pie, here to perform any task that need be done.” She smiled slyly, walked closer and flirtatiously tapped your nose. “And no, I’m not gonna do any of what you are thinking.” She gave a wink. “Yet.” She giggled.

>My god this girl was a flirt if ever you saw one.

“Well Miss Pinkimena, I expect a considerable more amount of professionalism in my manor. However if you would prefer, I can send you home and simply have your friend pay for the damages. I hope it doesn’t come to that though, and we can all act like mature, civilized adults here and not childish whores.” At the start you spoke a little unsurely, but as you found your footing, every word felt like another blow from a hammer, ringing through you with a satisfying weight.

>As you watched her face turn from an almost smug smirk to that of wounded pride and rejected advances, you couldn’t help but feel superior. Somehow you got the idea that this girl had never been rejected so harshly before, and you felt a little bad for it, but man did it feel good to put her in her place.

>In the silence that ensued, you swear you could hear the leaves rustling from the trees at the base of the hill. Time froze as the confident girl tried to make sense of what had just happened.

“I’m sorry Anon,” her reply came slowly, sounding close to how Fluttershy normally talked, but still having Pinkie’s voice.

“You will address me as Master, Sir, or Mister Mous. Do we understand each other?” your words word soft, but were cold and unrelenting.

“Yes sir.”

>Fluttershy walked up to her from behind you.

“Sorry Ma-mister Anon, I should have told her the joke wasn’t going to be funny. I’m sorry,” the look on Fluttershy’s face looked precisely like the one on Pinkie, like every last one of your words were directed at her for not stopping Pinkie.