Luna In The Pit
By Musuko

A game had become the latest craze amongst the ponies. It was a simple enough game: get your victim...uh, playmate...to say “I surrender”, and you claim your prize; a little star above your cutey mark, and the bragging rights that came with it.
	The methods of obtaining surrenders were as varied as the ponies themselves. Some went for pranks, jumping out from behind doors wearing scary masks, or hiding candy spiders in beds, or swapping shampoo with hair dye. Fluttershy seemed particularly to be a magnet for pranks. Not that she seemed to mind. She even quietly admitted that the pink fur rather suited her.
	Others, however, went for the more direct but effective approach. This, of course, was tickles. Happy, helpless, playful tickles. A simple formula: pin down your vic...playmate, tickle them silly, and wait for them to plead “I surrender!” Then the star was yours. Easy! A day wouldn’t pass without the sound of frantic giggling coming from somewhere in Equestria. There were rumours that the whole game was started as an excuse just for the tickles, and suspect number one was Rainbow Dash, who seemed to end up as the victim of the tickles more often than not.
	But the game was fun. Everyone agreed on that, even those who trod nervously through their day, expecting to be pounced at any moment.
Most of the ponies had a smattering of stars, proudly displayed as evidence of their successful pranks and teases. Poor Fluttershy had yet to score a single star, being too kindly to attempt a cruel prank, and too nervous to join in with the tickle attacks. Princess Luna had an impressive ten stars after a particularly scary Nightmare Night, but some grumbled that was cheating. Not to her face, of course. They wouldn’t dare.
	What was more impressive, however, was the fact that not a single pony had yet to score a star off of Princess Luna. She was wholly resistant to being scared, survived all kinds of pranks without even so much as a comment, and nobody had yet caught her in a tickle attack.
	Well...until now.
	In a dark pit, somewhere hidden, Princess Luna, the regal and powerful, woke up tied up and powerless.
	The ropes that suspended her were strong. The leather harness that gripped her body was soft and supple, but strong. It hugged every curve and spread her weight across its embrace. Her wings were strapped to her back. Her wrists were bound with rope behind her knees, forcing her legs up in front of her. More rope bound her ankles together. Her feet dangled in front of her face, presented up to the darkness that surrounded her.
	And into that darkness she stared, defiant. For she knew that someone was there, watching her.
“I know you’re there. Show yourself!”
	Silence. Nothing more. The same as it had been for what felt like hours. It was probably closer to five minutes, but being tied up so securely was a distraction that made the time drag.
	“This game grows tiresome. I demand you release me.”
	She had gone to sleep that night, just as she had on any other ordinary night. But she did not arise to the sunlight of the morning. Instead, she found herself here, hanging in the darkness, trussed up in rope and leather, and dressed in revealing lacy underwear and stockings. That part was the most galling. She most certainly had not gone to sleep wearing those.
	And now the mysterious person, or persons, who had kidnapped her from her bed, dressed her sleeping body in lace, and tied her up to hang in the dark, was utterly refusing to do anything to her now he or she had her.
	Most annoying.
	“You are not going to get a surrender from me like this,” she said, changing tactics. “I can stay like this all day without saying the magic words.” She swished her tail and set her whole body gently rocking like a pendulum.
	Still nothing.
	“I grow tired of waiting,” she called to the darkness. “Whatever you have planned, please do it now.”
	It seemed at first that silence would again be her only reply. But then from very close by came a voice, quietly chuckling, and with it came a brush of something soft and fleeting against her thigh. It felt like a mane, or a tail perhaps.
	“I felt that. Who’s there?”
	Another chuckle came, this time from the other side. Perhaps there was more than one of them here. A conspiracy.
	“Let me go this instant. Or there will be trouble!”
	“Oh? What kind of trouble?”
	The voice made her flinch. It was right by her ear, but in the blackness she couldn’t see anyone there. She could feel breath on her ear, though, and she could smell...apples? That could mean something, or it could mean nothing at all.
	The weird thing was the voice...it sounded exactly like her own.
	“How dare you impersonate a Princess of Canterlot!”
	“I’m not impersonating you,” said the voice. “You’re impersonating me!”
	“What?! That’s...you...grr!”
	She clamped her mouth shut and held her head high. Arguing with such ridiculousness was beneath her dignity.
	“Poor Luney-wuney!”
	“What? Do not call me that!”
	“Want me to stop, Luney-wuney?”
	“I demand that you stop!”
	“Sure, I’ll stop! But you can’t make me stop with those words. You know the words you need to say!”
	She raised her head, eyes closed. “Hmmph! Never!”
	“Well, alright then. I guess I’ll have to begin!”
“Begin what?” I snapped.
“The thing that you’re here for. Why, don’t you know what it is?”
“How am I supposed to know that?”
“I guess you’re going to have to figure it out! Are you ready?”
The voice had slid into a sinister tone, but it sounded like it would burst into laughter at any moment. It was typical of the other ponies whenever they were trying to be serious. It was even worse now to hear it happen to her own voice. That humiliation alone was almost worth a surrender just to make it stop.
Suddenly, she became acutely aware of how vulnerable she was tied up like this. It was something in that voice. She had heard that tone somewhere before, in someone else’s voice. It was a tone of playful wickedness, and it made clear that something horrible was about to happen, something that the speaker knew was about to happen, something that the victim was going to be in the dark about until much too late...and she had a terrible feeling that the victim was about to be her. She felt a tremble all through her body, because she also had a horrible feeling that the something was going to be...the dreaded tickles.
“N-no?”
“Liar! You’re very ready. You’re all tied up and helpless, and there’s nothing you can do to stop what’s going to happen, except for those two little words, of course.”
“Do not tickle me,” she hissed.
“Why not?”
“Beca-aagh!”
Though she expected tickles, she didn’t expect them so suddenly and rudely when she was in the middle of a sentence! They were fingertips. Definitely fingertips! Ten evil, pointy fingertips, jabbing into her waist from both sides. She couldn’t see them coming. She couldn’t brace herself against the attack. And the surprise made it ten times worse! She flinched her whole body, pulling against the ropes and straps and bucking upwards, only to come crashing back down and swinging dizzily from side to side. Her sides tingled unbearably, and the squeaky, yelpy noise she made was utterly undignified, and her cheeks started to flush!
And the voice, her voice, her stolen voice...laughed at her!
“I’ve never seen you jump so far! I barely touched you!”
“H-how dare you.” She could barely talk. She was so outraged!
“Aww, poor Luney-wuney. Did that tickle?”
“I’m not...going to dignify that with an answer!” She bit her lip and turned her head away from the voice.
“Alright, I’ll do it again then!”
“Don’t you da-aah!”
She thought she could prepare myself in those short seconds, but it didn’t help; in fact, knowing what was coming made it even worse the second time! And as those ten pokey fingers pressed into her exposed flanks, she shrieked and wriggled without a shred of self-control. She gasped for breath, hanging limp and hearing the ropes creak as she dangled.
	“S-stop doing that!”
	“Doing what?”
	“Tickling me!”
	“Hmmm...nope!”
	“Gah! This is so unfair! A princess like me shouldn’t have her dignity defiled like this! As soon as I get free, I will make you pay for this!”
She held her head up, proud and defiant, and tried to stop her pouting lower lip from quivering.
And in response...the voice burst out into laughter.
“Aww, poor Luney-wuney. Okay, I’ll stop. Do you want to surrender yet?”
Luna shook her head stubbornly.
“Alright then. Guess I’ve got to try harder. Have you ever heard of the fiendish, the legendary, the fearsome, the deadly...Ticklegigglewigglepillar?”
	“That is...not a real thing.”
	“It is too a real thing. They’re the most tickley, giggley, wiggley caterpillars in the world. And I have ten of them right here in a jar. Would you like to meet them?”
	“No! I mean...you made that up! There’s no such…”
	She heard the unmistakable sound of a lid being unscrewed.
	“...thing?”
	“Are you sure about that?”
	“Y-you keep those things away from...ah...me!”
	Whether or not Ticklegigglewigglepillars were a real thing, there was one on Princess Luna’s tummy now. It fell down into a crease of her fur, trapped by her folded-up body. It fell right down against her belly button. And there, with nowhere else to go, it started to tickle. Barely a touch at first, lighter than a feather. But she twitched in response, pulling herself up slightly in her restraints to straighten her tummy. And as she did, she felt the thing move. Such a little thing, the size of her pinky from the feel of it. But as it rolled fractionally on her tummy it itched with what felt like tiny hairs along its length. A second source of itching tickles joined the first, delicately placed against another fold of her quivering tummy.
	This was so very much unlike how she imagined tickles could be. Little itchy tickles, feather-light and ever so wiggly! Her giggles came on slowly at first, little hiccupy sounds that came with her flinches. She tried to lean away from the hand placing them on her, but they always seemed to be able to reach in to place them. A couple of caterpillars became more than she could count. Ten? There had to be at least twenty! And all of them were wiggling about on her tummy, trapped against her skin, their itchy little legs tickling! She squeezed her eyes shut under the blindfold, trying to hold back her giggles. These tickles weren’t the sudden, unexpected jabs of the pokey fingers; these were gentle, slow, and constant, and that was far worse!
	She squeezed her eyes shut and hissed through her teeth.
	“Take it off!”
	“It’s okay, Luney-wuney, you can laugh! That’s what the Ticklewigglegigglepillars are for! They’re specially bred to be extra tickley, and trained to wriggled all about on cute pony tummies to make them giggle!”
	“Don’t call me that!” She twisted to the side, trying to dislodge the things off of her tummy. It didn’t work, but it seemed to drive them into a frenzy. She bit back a giggle, turning it into a muffled noise. “Wait a second...I t-thought they were called Ticklegigglewigglepillars…”
“Sure, that’s what I said. Tigglebiggletiggypillars.”
	“No it wasn’t! You’re making it up!”
	“Yeah it was! No I’m not! You’re just getting confused because you’re distracted.
	“I am not!”
	She whined, struggling again, which was a mistake. The Wigglemigglewhateverpillars went crazy, crawling all over her tummy.
	“P-please make them stop!”
	“They’re not doing anything. Just stop moving around.”
	“I can’t!”
She whined, pulling against the ropes. If only she could get her hands free. Then she could snatch these wriggling monsters off her tummy and get herself loose from all this, dignity intact, star unwon. But really, at this point, she didn’t care as much about conceding the star. She just wanted the torture to end!
But then...the thought of whoever it was grinning at her, wearing the star, flaunting her defeat. She couldn’t bear that either!
“Make them stop,” she hissed.
“Say the magic words!”
“No!”
	“Well then, they’ll just keep tickling. I hope they won’t distract you too much. You’ve got to decide which you want least, tickles or losing! Hehe. Shall I leave you for a while to think about it?”
	“No! Please don’t leave me like this, getting t-tickled!”
	“Alright then. Just say the words.”
She laughed, tears in her eyes, her whole body trembling. But she just couldn’t do it...she couldn’t give in and say the words. She shook her head as the laughter tumbled out.
“N-no! Please...please take the tickle things off.”
	“You’re not making any sense, Luney-wuney. You say you want the tickles to end, but you won’t say that you surrender. So I think you just want the tickles, don’t you?”
	She whined, shaking her head. She gave up pleading again. She tried to fight the laughter, biting her lip, suppressing the noises to muffled sounds of mirth. But always her trembling tummy jogged the tickle things again, making them dance against her sensitive skin, sending sparks of gentle, unbearable sensation into her again, and the laughter would come tumbling out all over again.
She felt close to exhaustion. And then she started to notice a smell: a scent started to grow, fighting with the smell of apples. Princess Luna sniffed the air, then frowned. Whatever it was, it smelled leafy and earthy…
	“Moss?” she said, gasping through the laughter.
	“Huh?”
	“Those aren’t caterpillars at all! They are just bits of moss! There are no such things as Ticklegigglewigglepillars!”
	“No...uh...they’re…”
	“Get them off me this instant!”
	She glared defiantly into the darkness. She tried not to show surprise when unseen fingers plucked the fragments of moss off of her tummy. She let her body sag, the tingling of the moss’s itchy fronds slowly fading away. He glare turned to a grin. She didn’t care if her captor could see it or not. She had scored a point. A victory for Princess Luna.
	“Boo, you’re no fun, Luney-wuney. I thought that was a really good idea.” The voice sounded hurt.
	“Hah! Whatever you were trying to accomplish, it failed. I will not be beaten by such pathetic trickery!”
	Silence again. She rolled her eyes.
	“Do you not have anything to say? You should untie me right NEOOW!”
	Her body thrust upwards in a reflex spasm as ten fingers drilled suddenly into her sides, then let go just as suddenly. It lasted barely a second, but it was enough to jolt her whole body and make her yelp out an undignified noise of ticklish distress.
	“How...dare...you!” she gasped, quivering with indignation.
	“Aww, poor Luney-wuney. Did that tickle?”
	“I’m not...going to dignify that with an answer!” She bit her lip and turned her head away from the voice.
	“Alright, I’ll do it again then!”
	“Don’t you da-aah!”
	She thought she could prepare herself in those short seconds, but it didn’t help; in fact, knowing what was coming made it even worse. And as those ten fingers pressed into her exposed flanks, she shrieked and wriggled without a shred of self-control. And just like before, it was over almost before it had begun, but it was enough to leave her shattered. She gasped for breath, hanging limp, hearing the ropes creak as she dangled, slowly rocking from side to side.
	“S-stop doing that!”
	“Doing what?”
	“Tickling me!”
	“Hmmm...nope!”
	“This is unfair! A princess like me shouldn’t have her dignity defiled like this! As soon as I got free, I will make you pay for this!” She held her head up, proud and defiant, doing her best to stop her lower lip from quivering.
	“Oh, do you promise?”
	“I’ve had enough of this! I COMMAND YOU TO-eeeeehehehe!”
Fingers dug into her sides again, turning her booming voice into girlish laughter.
	“Aww, Luney-wuney. You shouldn’t use that voice with your friend.”
	“Hmm! Rainbow Dash, is that you?”
	“Why would I be Rainbow Dash?”
	“Applejack? Fluttershy?”
	“You’re never going to guess. You should give up! My voice-changing spell is too powerful for you to break! Mwahaha!”
	“Your evil laugh is terrible!”
	“Is that so?”
	“And your magic is awful!”
	“Oh really?”
	“Yes!”
	“Reaaaally?”
	She felt the air crackle around her. Her fur started to fluff up, and she knew her tail was billowing. Something very bad was about to happen. A breeze started to whirl around her. She shuddered in her restraints.
	“Stop it! Whatever it is you’re doing, stop it!”
She knew her voice didn’t carry much authority, not when it was shot through with trembling whimpers. She sounded scared. The wind blew faster, and the swirling vortex closed in, narrowing down, centred around her feet. Her vulnerable, naked, helplessly exposed feet. Her sense of foreboding became outright dread, and she knew something was about to be materialised.
	“Don’t you dare!”
	And then with a tinkle of bells, the wind stopped. And in its place was the delicate touch of a dozen feathery brushes. She opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment the brushes started to twirl. The words died as a squeal in her throat, and for one breathless moment she was silent, paralysed by the whirling scrubbing of a dozen brushes clustered around her feet, their soft bristles mercilessly attacking even as she strained and flexed her feet to escape them.
And then her silence broke, and she shrieked out her savage laughter, her eyes wide, her body spasming in tense, uncontrolled struggles. She lost all control over herself. She became a slave to the tickles. And the laughter was as good as a gag to keep her from gasping out her pleas for mercy. On and on it went, an endless assault. She thought it would never end, that she would be stuck forever in this ticklish nightmare.
“You’re right,” said the voice. “My laugh is terrible. Yours is much better. Thank you for sharing it with me!”
Luna struggled hard against the straps. This was a sensation unlike any she had ever felt before. She felt powerless, and that was terrible! And her feet practically crackled with the crazy energy of the spinning, scrubbing, torturous bristles!
“You look so cute like that, you know, Luney-wuney. The tickled look really suits you. So much better than your normal hoity-toity look. You should stay like this all the time. Want to stay here, getting tickled all day and night long?”
Luna’s constant, gasping laughter punctuated with a single word, forced out with utmost effort. “No!”
“Are you sure? You seem to like it. I’ve never heard you laugh so much. You sould happy, Luney-wuney. Maybe we should keep you here like this forever!”
Luna rolled her head from side to side, tears welling in her eyes. He chest ached from her constant laughter. Her feet tingled mercilessly even where the brushes weren’t currently scrubbing. Her whole body trembled. Her fingers flexed and her toes danced. All her struggles were turned to nothing by the ropes and the straps. She was utterly, helplessly trapped, and nothing would stop the brushes from tickling her soft, sensitive feet. But through the torture she managed to gasp, “w-we?”
“Uh...I mean I!”
The brushes seemed to falter, their spinning slowing. She grabbed at the opportunity, fighting down the laughter to snatch a gulp of air. “You said we! How many of you are there?”
“Just me!”
	“Do not lie to me!”
	“I’m not!”
	Now the brushes stopped altogether. Her feet quivered under their static bristles. The skin felt exfoliated. Even the cool brush of the air tingled with the anticipation of ticklish sensitivity. She suppressed a groan into her lip.
	“Do you want to surrender yet?”
	“No,” she said, her voice shaking. She wriggled her feet, pushing at the brushes. She heard a succession of faint pops, and the brushes were gone, disappearing back into the ether from where they had come. Good riddance, she thought! And now, slowly, she could get her breath back, and her dignity. At least...some of it.
“Oh well. I don’t mind. I don’t really want you to surrender anyway.”
“What? Why not?”
“Because that’s not the point of doing this?”
	“It is not? Then why?!”
	“Because...it’s fun?”
	“That is a terrible reason to do something!”
	“Don’t be silly, Luney-wuney. It’s the best reason to do anything! Besides, I think you like this, really. You wanted to join in and get tickled all those other times, I just know it, but you were too shy.”
	“I do not get shy!”
	“Sure you do! But now...you can get all the tickles you could ever want!”
	She became aware of moving air again. But it wasn’t a spell in progress this time. It was the telltale hint of the approach of more ponies in the darkness. She strained her ears and heard the near silent brush of socked feet against a stone floor. She started to tremble. Whoever they were, and she suspected all of her friends, they were all around her now, so close, cloaked in the darkness, ready to pounce, she just knew it…
	“Who is there? I know there are more than one of you!”
	“Nope, it’s just me.”
	“Liar!”
	Closer now. An unmistakable breeze to ruffle her fur, the movement of hands mere inches from her body. She felt it at her feet, at her sides, under her arms, even at her neck. An involuntary whimper caught in her throat, only half stifled. She heard a soft giggle in the darkness, from a different direction to the imposter.
	“Whatever you are going to do…”
	“We’re going to tickle you. I mean...I’m going to tickle you. With magic hands. Lots and lots of magic hands!”
	They pounced, all at once. A dozen or more hands, all working together. Hundreds of fingers, each set on tickling her body. Every part of her became a target zone. She wrenched her head back and shrieked as the fingertips pressed into her sides, thighs, underarms, under her knees and, of course, the soles of her feet…
	...then did absolutely nothing. They just held perfectly still, poised ready to tickle at any moment.
	She choked back a small whimper.
	“It was silly of me to think I could make you surrender by just tickling you in one spot. You’re a lot tougher than that, aren’t you Luney-wuney? Although you don’t look it right now, all quivering and scared! Hehe. So the best way to get you to surrender is to tickle everywhere at once, don’t you think?”
	“No,” she breathed. A soft yelp caught in her throat as her nervous twitching self-tickled her left sole against the fingers.
	“But not right away. Got to build up the anticipation. Like with music! You can’t start right away at the climax. First you start with a little bit…”
	The fingers on the backs of her knees started to wiggle, pressing down through her fur to graze lightly over her soft, sensitive skin. She squealed and bent her legs, but that just pulled her body upwards against the straps. The stilled fingers on the rest of her body moved with her, but not quite precisely enough; her body jolted with the feather-light strokes all over. She bit her lip hard and suppressed her laughter.
	“Mmmph! Nooo! Make it stop!”
	“And then you layer on a second thing...whatever you call it. I don’t know music stuff.”
	The fingers under her arms started to dance. They stroked against taut muscle and the delicate, fluffy fur deep in her armpits. She shook her head wildly in her futile struggles to pull away, but she was trapped. Wherever she swayed, the fingers easily moved with her. The wiggling fingers kept up their constant movement. Still she laughed behind stubbornly sealed lips.
	“And slowly, bit by bit, you work the rest of the orchestra into the piece.”
	The fingers on her sides came to life, reigniting the tickly tingles she had felt there before. But now it worked in concert with the tickles under her arms and behind her knees, and the combination of all three together was enough to break her composure. Her mouth opened wide and she threw her head back, laughing uncontrollably, sucking the air from her lungs and making her gasp breathlessly between wracked spasms of sweet, melodic, high-pitched laughter. She couldn’t even force out a single word now. The ability to beg and plead was gone. She was now just a creature of tickles and giggles and wiggles!
	“A little more…”
	The fingers on her thighs started to race up and down, from hips to knees, plucking delicately at her taut skin, ruffling the fur. She shrieked louder even than her Canterlot voice. Her body danced and jiggled, making rope and leather creak. She tried to twist and snatch at the fingers that tickled the backs of her knees, but they retreated out of her reach every time, only to return an instant later to jab and tickle at her exposed body.
	“And now, to complete it all…”
	“No!” she cried, barely forcing the word out through the chaos of her laughter. It was no good. The fingers on her soles erupted with passionate energy. Her toes splayed wide and held, tense, trembling, as every inch of her feet blazed with tingling ticklish torture. The breath was knocked from her. The laughter died with a breathless gasp. Her pupils contracted to crazed pinpricks. She felt like she would pass out. The tickles to the rest of her body felt like shadows. Even the spinning bristles of the brushes were nothing compared to this. The fingers were so slender and delicate, moving with nimble grace, stroking and scraping with the perfect balance of strength between gossamer lightness and deep, grinding pressure. If she could see, she knew they would be moving in a blur. Beneath them, her soles stood no chance; they writhed uncontrollably, helplessly, removed completely from her power in the most unbearable way. She had lost, she knew it; lost the game, lost the star, lost control of her body, and knew that if this kept up she would lose control of her mind just as surely!
	And in that moment came the worst humiliation imaginable; the realisation that she liked it!
	She fought against the thought. No, it was wrong! How could she like it? Being tied up so helpless and exposed, struggling and laughing with teary eyes as she was tickled to insanity, her every struggle and plea doing nothing to free her, proving how completely and utterly powerless she was. How could she like that? How?
	But she was a smart pony, and she knew why. It was obvious...she just didn’t want to accept it. It was that powerlessness that made her like it. Like this, she was as free as she had ever felt. Her dignity was gone, and with it the constant stress and worry of preserving it. Her self-control was gone, and so too was the pressure to make decisions. And she felt safe and wonderful even as this mysterious friend tortured her to bits!
	And...finally...even though she shrieked and struggled, even though her throat felt raw and her body was tired and aching, chafed by the restraints…the actual feeling of all those tickly fingers caressing her body and making her tingle so unbearably was...kinda...nice.
	Now she understood the appeal of getting frightened on Nightmare Night. Now she understood why the other ponies were happy to be spooked by pranks. It all made sense! She had been so silly!
	She fought through the tidal wave of laughter, inhaled a deep breath…
	“STOP!” she cried in her best Canterlot voice.
	“Are you giving up?”
	“YES!”
	The voice giggled. Still the fingers tickled! “Are you sure?”
	“YEEEEEEES!”
	The fingers lifted away from her all over. The tickling feeling faded slowly, leaving her breathlessly giggling still. She sagged limply in her restraints, so very tired...but feeling vibrantly alive.
	“Say the words then.”
	“I will say them,” she said, panting weakly. “On one condition.”
	“Oh really? No conditions!”
	The fingers touched her again. “Wait! You will agree to it! My condition is that I will surrender if...if…”
	“If?”
	“You keep...tickling me.”
	Silence answered her. She waited, nervous, her panting seeming to echo in the darkness around her.
	Then, ever so quietly, a giggle. “Alright, condition accepted.”
	She sighed. Maybe she would regret this. Asking for more torture was foolish, after all. But...she wanted that feeling of soaring, helpless elation again.
	“I...surrender.”
	“Hooray!”
	She felt the fingers lift off of her, applause erupting all around her. She closed her eyes and groaned. She had lost...but she had won.”
	“So...about that condition?” asked the voice.
	“Y-yes?”
	“You want it now?”
	Princess Luna felt the blush burn her cheeks. “Yes please…”
	The fingers dived together, and her laughter filled the air once more…

There many ways to wake up, but only one way that befits the dignity and grace of a princess; rising from one’s bed to the fresh warmth of a new day, trotting outside into the crisp air with a swish of one’s mane and a heartfelt “good morning world!” to greet the day. Today was much like any other, with the sun shining beautifully above, and warmth soaking into Princess Luna’s fur. No-one could know, she was sure, that her body ached as if it had not slept at all, and even the brush of the breeze tickled at her overstimulated skin.
	All her friends were out in the meadow, clustered around Fluttershy. She heard their happy voices, and as she approached the group parted.
	“Did you see?” said Rainbow Dash. “Fluttershy got her first star!”
	And there it was, above Fluttershy’s cutey mark. A little star, all alone, where one had not been the day before.
	“How did she get it?” said Princess Luna. She was sure her cheeks were glowing red.
	“She won’t say.”
	Fluttershy smiled, glancing over. Those eyes said more than her silent smile was.
	“Well done on getting your first star, Fluttershy,” said Princess Luna.
	“Uh...thanks,” she mumbled. “Maybe I’ll get another one tonight.”
	Princess Luna felt the tingling already. She laughed, trying to make it sound less nervous than it actually was. “I’m sure you will!” she cried. “I have to go...umm...bye!”
	She trotted off, chewing her lower lip, trying to keep from crying out in glee. More tickles tonight? It was a dream!
	And in her happy haste, she didn’t notice the cutey marks adorning her other friends...every one of which each had one more star than they had the day before.