“Bye Twilight!” Spike called from the open library doorway. “I’ll be back in about thirty minutes, okay?”


“Bye Spike! Have fun!”

Twilight eyed Spike warily from the balcony as he left for Sweet Apple Acres. She listened for gentle “click” of the lock engaging after he shut the door, just to be sure. Twilight stood there for a few minutes, staring down the closed door, expecting Spike to rush back any second for some reason or another.

After it became painfully apparent that he wasn’t returning, Twilight galloped off to her bedroom at breakneck speed. Preparations were in order, and preparations took time, and time was something she did not have much of. Upon entering the bedroom, Twilight dived under the bed, pulling the sheets off the bed as she went and fished out a large wooden lockbox aptly labelled “Twilight’s Secret-Time Box” in bold red lettering with a skull and cross-bones decal with the words “Keep Out” underlined beneath it.

Twilight hoisted the box on top of the now coverless bed. She slowly and sensually placed her horn in the keyhole, and the box flew open. She quickly gathered her supplies: scented candles, matches, rose petals, and a single leather-bound book that was roughly as thick as a tree trunk titled “Non-Euclidian Geometry for Masochists.” She gently placed the book on her bed, caressing its smooth, velvety exterior, while putting another hoof to her lips.

“Shh… No words, big boy. Just show me your figures.” She flipped to the book’s appendix, and retrieved a pair of cuffs and riding crop, deciding to leave the ball-gag and blindfold for another day. “I’ve been a very bad girl, you know? I’ve only studied for five hours yesterday instead of six. I think I need some…” She licked her lips. “…supplementary material so I don’t get behind. It’s been so long since I’ve had some study time alone; I was hoping you could help me cram.”

The book had no response to this tantalizing banter, but appeared interested, at least from Twilight’s perspective.

Non-Euclidian Geometry just wasn’t the same without that rush, the feeling over powerlessness and the threat of a swift slap on the rear for failure. Twilight lived for these moments. She quickly sought out the hardest problems in her towering textbook, the problems that could give her that momentary thrill of uncertainty before being painstakingly solved in an extremely rigorous manner requiring numerous needlessly complex steps that could have been just as easily done with a calculator. It was the ultimate high.

As luck would have it, she found a behemoth of a problem almost immediately. She began making up rules: every thirty seconds she would be whipped, and if she lost her concentration on the problem, she’d be whipped twice.

“Oh Celestia!” she cried, as she delivered the first of many blows. “It’s too long! I can’t take it!”

But Twilight was persevered, writing the equations she applied in the margins and taking extra care to show all the steps of her work. Math like this had to be done thoroughly, or both parties would leave unsatisfied. She was getting closer and closer though, the tension building up all along her body. She was only a few steps away now, the answer so close that she could taste it. She grabbed the book.

“Is that all you got?! I said harder!”

The book was genuinely unsure of how to respond to this and resolved to do nothing. The last steps were the hardest, anyways.
As the problem reached its apex, Twilight’s entire body shook with anticipation, waiting for that glorious finish, the moment the answer was found. “Just a little more…” She gritted her teeth.

At that very moment, Twilight heard the loud creak of a door opening.

No, no, nonononono!

But it was too late to stop. Twilight had cross the threshold between knowing the answer and not knowing the answer, and had no choice but to finish, right then and there. She screamed in ecstasy as committed the solution to paper as a very confused and horrified Spike entered the room.

“Twilight, are you—“ he started.

Twilight quickly put out the candles with her magic, swept up the rose petals, and stuffed the book underneath her bed before meeting Spike’s eyes.

“Let’s just not talk about it, okay?!”

“Put a sock on the doorknob next time, jeez.”

“NOT TALKING ABOUT IT!”

And it was never mentioned again.