Attempted automated wordcount. Please use LibreOffice/MSOffice for an accurate count: 527

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“I’ve had just about enough of this.”

Rarity looked down; The Mule knew its place, and addressed her from the floor, prostrate before her. The fact that it seemed to have forgotten the proper manner of addressing a lady irked her, but she found the mercy necessary to overlook the slight; Rarity had developed a bit of a fondness for The Mule, truth be told, despite its rough looks and lack of grace. She supposed she just had a generous heart, to be able to love such a miserable wretch as this. The purple-maned unicorn sighed. She had been relaxing, but she supposed whatever was bothering her pet should be addressed first; business before pleasure, after all. “Why, what ever do you mean, my dear Mule?”

The Mule paused in thought before replying, “...Well, I just don’t think that this is the normal way lovers act. I mean, I don’t have much experience with pony courtship, but I’ve never read about anything like this.”

Rarity nodded, feigning concern, “Well, Mule darling, I suppose it’s not normal, per se, but normal is for the common sort. Rarity has always demanded the exceptional. You simply haven’t read the correct books. Fear not, my little Mule, you can borrow them. I’m sure you’ll enjoy them quite as much as I do.” Rarity was glad that, for all its unsophistication, the Mule could at least read well.

The Mule seemed only partially convinced. It spoke again, “Well, okay, I guess. But... um... about when we get... intimate. Could you stop calling me a ‘dirty disgusting Mule’ and raving about how much I sicken you? It sort of hurts my feelings a bit, sometimes. And I’m not sure why you want me to bray when you spank me, or why you spank me so often, for that matter, but it’s really weird.”

Rarity tilted her head. The Mule had never objected to that sort of thing before; The Mule seemed to enjoy it all as much as she did. “But darling, it adds so much spice. Surely you don’t want lovemaking to get boring, do you? Besides, we both know what being spoken down to does to you, and that certainly helps things along, and a little discipline is such delightful foreplay. You certainly didn’t seem to mind it last night.” The Mule blushed at the reminder of its usual tastes.

“Alright, I guess that makes sense. But could you at least stop calling me Mule? It’s a bit offensive. And possibly racist, I’m not really sure. You used to call me by my real name.” The Mule looked up at Rarity pleadingly.

The dressmaker clicked her tongue in annoyance, “Fine. I will occasionally call you by your name. But you must remember to address me properly from now on. In any case, I grow weary of this conversation,” Rarity extended a hoof out toward her Mule, “You may now lick my hoof clean.”

The mule responded in a tone of resignation, “Yes, Miss Rarity.”

***

That hadn’t gone how she had wanted at all. Twilight Sparkle sighed to herself as her tongue worked; she supposed that she’d just have to get used to being called Mule.