“Smile Cornelia. We want to make a good impression for these dignitaries.” Domitius reminded the petite unicorn standing next to him, her fur marked with stripes.

Littlepip looked him in the eyes as she gave him the happy grin he asked for. On the outside, she appeared to be the love-struck partner they were being introduced as. “Of course, my master. A concubine exists to edify her owner.”

It had been a day after he had asked that she become his willing partner, and Pip said yes. Already before this had she requested to be given the stripe painting to denote her as a zebra in spirit. The transformation seemed to have been magical; the bath her master allowed her to take had not washed them out. Her original fur and mane colour, as well as her horn, were now the only reminders of her pony origins. Even her cutie mark had been erased. It was a trade she had made for her own safety.

She looked around the large tent in which this party her master held was being celebrated. It wasn’t a proper wedding. There was not even supposed to be a ceremony for lowly concubine ponies, who were beneath such an honour. But her master’s sister had insisted. As a priestess of the Legion, Junia wanted to make a spectacle of ‘converting’ her first slave. Demonstrating her methods of earning the submission of all Equestria before the Legion worked. She spotted the witch alongside her own spouse, and for a moment the façade threatened to slip as seething jealousy overwhelmed Littlepip. Nothing these zebras did parading her around as the paragon of pony subservience could ever be as degrading as the sight of Velvet Remedy, the mare for whom Pip had risked her life and escaped Stable 2, fawning over that hag.

Almost as if she could sense Littlepip’s disdain for her, the shaman mare approached the pair with a pleasant smile, raising a hoof in salute. “Ave brother. So nice to see the both of you attend.”

“You know I would not insist on this spectacle for a slave, even one as pretty as my Cornelia.” The leg her laid around her withers reminded Littlepip how big he was in comparison. “But how could I refuse my dearest sister, to whom I owe gratitude? After all, familia est omnia. Am I right, my darling mistress?”

“Of course you are, my lord.” Littlepip nuzzled his chin affectionately, the perfect picture of a contented lover.

“I’m so glad to see you’ve accepted your new role as concubine.” Junia’s reached out and smoothed out her hair. “It was my suggestion that you two would make such a good match. That my brother would tame your rebellious mind.” Her hooves grasped the metal collar that hung around Pip’s neck. “But I see these drastic measures remain necessary.”

Littlepip forced a reassuring smile towards her… she shouldn’t say sister-in-law when she was not her brother’s wife. “The slave masters removed the bomb inside, but felt it necessary to keep the tracking sensor in case of escape. Not that I would want to abandon the Legion, who provide purpose for us ponies.”

It wasn’t as if a tracker was going to stop her, as Littlepip was more than capable of unlocking the collar herself and ditching it in case she escaped, now that she didn’t have to worry about setting off the explosive. No, she knew that her new stripes made her stand out as an escaped Legion slave, or zebra sympathizer. Neither one she assumed would keep her safe from other ponies.

“Besides, they said the collar helps remind me where I’ve come from, how I have risen above my status.” She feigned pride at that.

“And more important, how quickly all you have earned can be taken away again.” Junia spoke threateningly in a low voice as she pulled on the metal collar, forcing Littlepip’s head close to her. “The weight around your neck, metal constricting the flesh of your exposed throat. Always making you feel you are someone’s property. My brother’s, to be exact. And part of my house. Remember that, Cornelia.”

Littlepip stood with the colour drained from her face as the zebra let go of her collar, barely able to address Velvet, who now joined her wife.

“And perhaps, if you continue to progress, the slavers may agree to take it off.” Junia finished in a much more optimistic tone in the presence of her own unicorn partner.

“You think you could convince them to do it early? I do hate to see Cornelia wear that awful thing when she’s made such strides.” Velvet pleaded with her.

“Sister? If I can speak to you privately?” Domitius prevented his sister from giving a straightforward reply with his interruption, as he guided her to a secluded section of the party tent.

That left Littlepip alone with Velvet, awkwardly watching the bitch-in-priest-robes retreat.

“Might I say you look lovely in your new attire, Littlepip- erhm, Cornelia?” Even privately, Velvet had to insist on using that name.

Instead of the same ratty old shirt every day, for this occasion she’d been dressed up in a pure white loincloth that thankfully covered her intimate places from sight of the legionnaires. As well as a matching top across her upper body. The girdle along her waist and clasps were golden, as were the ear piercings, leg bracelets and rings she now wore as jewellery, marking her status as being above common slaves, and valued property of some zebra.

“T-thank you. You look great as well, Velvet. In your… eh, Legion dress.” The red and yellow colours of the legion on black matched her mane and coat a bit too well for Pip’s liking.

Littlepip looked past Velvet at all the officers and patricians who had gathered for the occasion. Several of whom she was almost certain had to come from outside the camp. Commanders or lords from other legions or colonies established on Equestrian soil. It was surprising to see so many of them on short notice. She also couldn’t help but notice the looks they appeared to give the two of them. One the wife of an out homosexual, and her the fool who’d left the comfort of her Stable after her over a crush.

Littlepip had ample experience with the way most legionnaires treated lesbian mares. Even Junia was not safe from their glares when they thought she wasn’t looking. Of course they would never dare say something to her face. Disrespecting a priestess was quite a serious offence. And by extension, so was her family or household. But that only helped create an uncomfortable situation wherein Littlepip felt she owed the witch her safety.

“Is everything alright?” Velvet leaned into Littlepip’s view, startling her out of her thoughts.

“Velvet… I want to know, why are you choosing the Legion’s side?” She was genuinely curious what lies that vixen had fed her.

A bit unsure at first how to handle that question, Velvet seemed to address it with genuine conviction. “Ever since I was brought into the Legion by Junia, she’s told me the other side of the story of the Great War. Littlepip, we destroyed Zebrica.” Her belief must be serious if she would even use her old name. “Nothing lives there anymore. You might argue that’s what happened to Equestria, but we were the aggressors. We tried to take their resources and land, murdered innocent refugees, let the six Ministries created by Nightmare Moon carry out horrific experiments and intrude on the personal lives of everypony, twist us into hateful monsters who would rather see Equestria destroyed than ever considering surrender. All because our princess was too selfish to see herself as the problem, and accept she was the price that had to be paid for peace.”

Nothing she was raised to believe in the Stable ever hinted that Princess Luna was evil. But if she had truly been redeemed, why let things come so far? Didn’t it at least make some sense towards explaining everything that, just perhaps, she had been Nightmare Moon all along?

“We locked up zebras in camps, “for their own safety” they told them.” Velvet Remedy continued in outrage. “Put under guard by soldiers no longer fit for frontline combat because they failed their psych exam. The things we’ve done… what Equestria has done, it’s unbelievable! But I read and listened to every holotape Junia shared with me, viewed every memory orb. There is something dark inside us, Pip. Vile and twisted and evil that is just waiting to come out. Like raiders or ghouls! We can’t trust ourselves. Ponies cannot be allowed to roam free with that lurking within. We need the zebras to contain our depravity.” Her insistence verged on desperation.

“So we just give up? Let zebrakind rule us from now on?” Littlepip broke the question, hesitant to deny what she had said.

“All our lives we were taught Equestria was a perfect land, with innocent ponies. Innocent ponies don’t start wars, Pip! Someone is going to have to make this war stop before it annihilates us all over again. The zebras have legitimate reasons to believe we will never honour our word again, if there was an authority that could even speak on ponykind’s behalf. It has to be us. We need to accept the things we did and put our fates in their hooves, or this will never end. We must pay the price for what we did to them. Even if it means we become their slaves forever. As the legionnaires like to say: vae victus.”

Woe to the conquered. A phrase she had become all to familiar with.

Littlepip wanted to scream and yell at her that what ponies did two hundred years ago did not justify zebras perpetuating that cruelty on Equestria now, and that Velvet had lost her mind if she could rationalize one war crime with another. But she knew that anything she told Velvet with soon reach Junia’s ear. And she hadn’t worked so hard to put on this act only to be thrown back in the pens with the other slovenly ponies doing hard physical labour. All she was permitted under the circumstance was question in a manner that could count as inquisitive.

“Would you show me some of those tapes? I still have a Pipbuck to read them.” She doubted anything carefully curated by the witch for Velvet’s eyes was going to be very convincing to a pony who saw through her.

“I do, in fact. I will bring them by your tent later. Ehm, when you and your master aren’t… busy.” Velvet blushed furiously, knowing what Littlepip’s role was now.

Littlepip just rolled her eyes. She wouldn’t be too bothered if Velvet ended up spoiling the mood. It saved her from fulfilling such a degrading duty. Then again, Domitius was about the last pony she wanted near Velvet. So she might as well avoid him while he was ‘excitable’.

The weight of a large hoof on her withers startled Littlepip as a heavy set centurion with wine on his breath interrupted. “You two dykes making kissy faces at one another? Or is this practice for when you are with your master?” He bellowed.

“Ave praefectus.” Velvet addressed him, demonstrating her fluency in zebrican language and savoir faire. “I was instructing my amica in her new position as courtesan, and teach her of the crimes against Zebrica that Equestria is guilty of. Why we make our penance.”

The casual manner in which Velvet mentioned it to her zebra overlords almost made Littlepip think she was a better actor than her.

“Good, good. We have need of good ponies who are so accepting of their fate. Educators in both history, and the proper place of a pony. Below a zebra stallion, you know what I mean?” The way he elbowed Littlepip at his drunken attempt at humour was annoying her. “Oh, speaking of which, have you heard the news?”

“What news?” Littlepip barely heard anything from what happened outside the warcamp, which she assumed was where this stranger was stationed.

“The Legion has cleaned out the Gutter over in Manehattan. All those prostitutes and beggars of Gutterville will make fine slaves for our stallions, so it’s good to have you to ‘instruct’ them. Though I doubt you will have to teach them much about submitting themselves, the way they lived!” His jokes were really starting to grate on Pip.

“Assuming there are any left who come this way.” Littlepip wanted to believe that at least some ponies had found the courage to defy the Caesar’s Legion.

“Don’t worry, they didn’t put up much of a fight. Those whores and turncoats were so used to lying and cheating their way through life, they looked genuinely scared when we put the slave collars on them! Needless to say, they gave up very quickly.” Slapping Littlepip on the ass, the boisterous centurion began to swagger over towards one of his compatriots. “See you two whores at the intake process!”

They really needed to stop pouring alcohol this early in the day.

Littlepip lay on the bed in the tent of her master, holding her Pipbuck with one of the holotapes Velvet had dropped off earlier. Almost afraid to learn the truth of what was on there. She had waited for her owner to leave, his evening taken up by yet another party with the visitors to the camp. That meant she could listen to these recordings in peace and quiet. Despite having used to be a repairpony for these things, pressing the play button took some effort.

With a lump in her throat, Littlepip played the next dated report on the tape.

Littlepip’s face contorted in disgust. This buck was nearly indistinguishable from the legionnaires. How could the princesses have condoned this?

Littlepip hit the off button with more force than was necessary, before she could learn more. She loathed to admit that Velvet may have been right about wartime Equestria.

She looked aside at the pile of holotapes on her nightstand. The pit in her stomach growing at the thought she’d not even finished the first one. That Target Practice’s descent into barbarism was far from complete by the number of entries remaining. But she wasn’t going to hear anymore from him.

Placing the Pipbuck on her nightstand, Littlepip turned her back away from it and the evidence Velvet had left her. Wanting to go to sleep. To forget what she heard. Ignore the temptation to learn more.

That night, she would dream of Zebrica, of ponies, and a teen zebra’s plight under Equestrian rule. A filly whose name was Cornelia.

@mushisushi72
The narrative can develop in any direction, as zebra slavery is just a “fanfic litlpip” from the world where there were no nuclear bombings).

@FelixF
Depends on the narrative you’re going for.

If she has moments of clarity regarding escape, or her sly attempts at indulging in lesbian sex get her caught, then the collar is a punishment she would endure for a time.

On the other hand, if she’s going a steady decline towards becoming a willing concubine, then offering to have the collar put on for a bit (either her or another zebra’s idea) would be a twisted yet effective display of loyalty (or being creative to get out of suspicion of betrayal, or something).

@mushisushi72
I hadn’t thought about it, how would you like it?)

It’s been a while since concu-pip had her bomb collar back on. Did she misbehave, or is this some new display of loyalty?

@Background Pony #F995
completely naked slave girls walk around until the owners are sure of their trustworthiness. Clothing on a slave is a symbol that they have been owned for a long time

Love the way she owns it! Probably grateful. I’m surprised they don’t force her to go nude 24/7 by now.