I can’t take it anymore. I know he’s tormenting me on purpose. I’m a weak pony. I know that. He knows that. That’s why he singled me out. I know that this is what he wants. He’s probably been waiting for it, like it’s some kind of game to him. I don’t have the strength to handle this anymore. I just don’t.

Part of me wants to think those journals were all lies. The same part is probably afraid to admit that they aren’t. It’s hard to deny after all the things I’ve seen him do, but anything has got to be better than this. Who knows, if he does bring me back, maybe being his mindless slave will still be easier than being his secretary.

I couldn’t get access to a guillotine. Apparently they were all dismantled because he never used them anymore. “Too much damage to the bodies,” they told me.

I did manage to smuggle some plants and things from the kitchens. I’m not an expert on it, but I’ve followed enough of his orders to know what some of them do. I already ate them; I’m just waiting for them to take effect, just waiting for something to happen.

I’m not sure why I’m writing this down. Nopony will ever see it. I suppose I didn’t want to just wait around, without doing anything. Perhaps I hope that someday, when he is overthrown, they’ll find this and it’ll be one of the pieces of evidence they use to convict him or something. I don’t know.

I feel tired. I don’t know if that’s the things I took, or just the knowledge that it will all be over soon. Perhaps it is a little of both.

If anypony besides him finds this, I want you to know I’m sorry I couldn’t do more to stop him. I’m a weak pony.

I feel dirty. Every second I spend near him, every breath I take inside the castle, it makes me feel tainted. I see his shadow magic crawling around the edges of my dreams, and I don’t know if he put them there or if it’s magic or if I’m just insane.

Every morning I look in the mirror, and I think my coat is a little duller. The light doesn’t hit it correctly anymore. It’s not just in the castle, either; when I’m outside it’s the same way. All the light inside my body is just leaking away, being replaced by those slimy shadows. I can feel it. I’m tainted. I feel tainted and dirty and all the light has left my body and it’s all his fault

My lungs hurt as I breathe in. It feels like the air is made of dirt. Every movement is so slow and difficult. I take another, and it feels the same way. My chest aches, and it doesn’t move as I breathe.

Something’s not right.

I take another breath, and it doesn’t even make it into my body. I can feel panic and fear at the back of my mind, and my eyes snap open.

“Welcome back.” The words are quiet, but it feels like someone is screaming at me.

I try to speak, but my mouth barely opens. A small squeak is all that comes out.

King Sombra smiles. His teeth are so shiny, and I can see every single one. “You really shouldn’t try to talk,” he whispers. “You did just die, after all.”

“No…” The word spills out of my mouth. It’s barely a whisper, but my throat is as hoarse as if I had been screaming for hours.

He leans down, and I can still see every single tooth in his mouth. They’re almost painfully bright. “Like I was going to let my best secretary leave that easily.”

This can’t be right. I’m supposed to be dead. I’m supposed to be dead I know I am.

His breath hits my face. My nose crinkles as the smell hits me. It smells the same as always: bad. I take a deep breath, trying to get the smell away from my mouth, but I just suck in air he breathed on. The smell sticks in my nostrils. I take another breath, and my body barely moves as I start to panic.

“What’s the matter, Rose?” His voice hurts my ears. “Are you shocked?”

My mouth doesn’t work; all that comes out is another tiny squeak.

“Well of course it was all true!” He laughs. It’s like nails on a chalkboard. “That is what you were going to ask, wasn’t it? I know it is.” I see a sliver of shadow magic poke of his mouth. It leaks through the gaps in his teeth, like a piece of rotten food. “This is why I like you, Rose. Even after everything you been through, everything you’ve seen, you’re still enough of a naïve optimist to believe it could be fake.”

He leans down and kisses me. I jerk my head to the side, but my body doesn’t respond, my neck doesn’t move. His lips feel disgusting: slimy and greasy and dirty. His tongue pokes into my mouth and it feels even worse, like insects writhing across my teeth.

He breaks away and I gasp for air. My throat feels soiled, like I’ve drunk sewage and washed it down with dishwater. I take another deep breath, but it doesn’t help.

“Feel better?”

“No, I don’t!” My voice works fine, and the words are loud enough to echo slightly. “I’m…I’m supposed to be dead! This isn’t right! You’re not supposed to be here!”

“Oh? Where else would I be?” He waves a hoof in no particular direction, but my eyes still latch onto it. It looks like his bedroom.

“Like I said, that naiveté is really quite charming. It’s one of the reasons I decided to make you my personal secretary.” He leans down, and I can feel his breath on my ear. “The realization is always such a turn on.”

He pushes his hips forward and I gasp. My eyes dart downward, but I already know what I’m going to see. I didn’t feel it before, but I feel it now. It’s buried so deep inside of me; I can’t even see any of it. It feels so warm. My body feels so cold and it feels so warm.

He moves back and thrusts in again. I try to move, but the only parts of my body that respond are my neck and face. Everything else feels so numb and lifeless, like it fell asleep without me.

I can’t actually feel any of his movements. Every time his body slams into mine, I can see my body jiggle and shift, but I can’t respond to it. I want to look away, but there’s a pillow propping up my head, pointing it right at my own groin.

I can’t feel his hips slapping against me, but I do feel something. The warmth from before is still there. It feels like I’m sitting outside, and only part of me is covered with a blanket. It feels so nice. By Tartarus, I don’t want it to feel nice. The warmth is spreading across me and I can’t help it. My body is so cold. If it weren’t so numb it would be worse, but I know it’s cold.

My stomach is wrapped in the heat now. It feels like a blanket or a warm shower or laying in the sun. I can still feel it crawling up my body, and I suddenly don’t want him to stop. He’s breathing heavily now, grunting with each press of his cock into my body. Every sound reminds me why I should hate this, but they’re so easy to ignore in favor of that amazing, comfortable temperature crawling across my skin.

As my body warms up, my limbs start to relax, sinking slowly into the bed as they are wrapped in his energy. They were splayed out, poking in random directions, but now they’re so flat and relaxed.

He gasps loudly and I can feel something bloom inside my body. It feels incredible, like the warmth from before but a thousand times stronger and better.

And then he does it all over again. And again. And again. When he finally finishes, my body feels like it’s been laying in the sunlight for hours, but I’m not even sweaty or tired, just relaxed.

He tries to pull out, but my legs clamp onto his body. I don’t want him to stop, I don’t want this to end.

Oh no.

My eyes snap open. What have I been doing? What’s wrong with me? I scurry backward, and all my limbs work perfectly. His penis slides out of me, and I can feel it dragging out of my body, I can feel myself clamping onto it, trying to keep it in place.

It pops out and I gasp, loudly and pitifully. Moments later, my hoof gets caught in my pillow and I fall sideways.

Why, what’s the matter, Rose?

“I can’t enjoy this! I don’t want to! I hate you!”

Why Rose! That’s not very nice. I am a part of you, after all.

I turn to King Sombra. His voice sounds off, but I can’t place why.

“What do you mean?”

I mean exactly what I said. His mouth doesn’t move.

“No.” The word is barely a whisper.

King Sombra laughs. “Oh yes.” His actual voice echoes slightly. “Isn’t it wonderful? Every breath you take. Every move you make. Every smile you fake. I’ll be there, watching them all.”

“No! No no no no…” I try to stand, and I can feel my legs strain to hold my weight. My stomach feels so heavy, and my tail twitches haphazardly instead of helping my balance.

Why, Rose? Is something the matter?

“This can’t be right. I hate you. This can’t be right.” I’m tripping over my words. I’m in such a rush to say them that they don’t sound right.

But Rose, can't you see? You belong to me. You’re my property. You live to feel the warmth of my body inside of yours. It’s even in your name: Wilted Rose.

“No! You can’t have my name, that’s all I have left in this dark, horrible…” I put a hoof to my head. My skull aches, and my body suddenly feels so cold.

I cough loudly, and my legs finally buckle under my weight. My stomach presses into the bed, and it feels so much bigger than it should.

Oh, don’t worry. You’ll learn to like it. After a while, I bet it will even feel as natural as your old name.

My eyes close slowly. Something says he’s right, that I should just listen to him. I know it’s wrong, but it’s so hard to ignore. I force my eyes open, but they move so painfully slow.

My eyes finally focus, and he’s standing near my head. “Open your mouth,” he orders.

I open my mouth to say “no”, but the word never comes out. My mouth just hangs open.

He takes his time walking towards me. My body doesn’t move, my mouth doesn’t close, and I can’t take my eyes off his erection. It smells incredible. Why would I think that? I hate him, even if I am really cold.

His dick feels so warm. I can feel every inch slide down my throat, and I can track its position perfectly by the heat sliding into me. I didn’t notice it until now, but my mouth felt so dry and empty and frozen before.

I can feel his hoof pressing into my mane, but it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is how nice my throat feels. It’s just like the rest of my body; the subtle, relaxing heat crawling off his cock and into my throat. It reminds me of warm soup. It feels so nice.

He pulls out, then pushes back in. For a moment his hoof digs into the back of my head, but I barely notice. For a moment my nose brushes against his stomach and his disgusting, greasy sweat clings to my nostrils. Before I can react the warmth starts to wrap around my head and I just stop caring. It feels so nice. Something tells me to relax, and I can’t find any reason to ignore it. I feel so calm and warm and content. I could stay like this forever.

Another thrust. My nose scrapes against his coat, but I can’t remember why it bothered me the first time. He smells so powerful and regal and important. I take a deep breath and the smell is wonderful.

He keeps pushing his cock in and out of my mouth. Every time my body gets a little warmer and a little softer and calmer and quieter. The heat sitting in my stomach and legs meets the heat oozing into my head and neck and forelegs and it feels incredible. Just when I think it can’t get any better, I hear King Sombra grunt loudly. His cock twitches and I feel something hot and salty gush into my throat. It tastes amazing. It feels amazing.

Then it stops. My eyes snap open, and King Sombra is staring at me from the other end of the bed.

“Feel better?” he asks.

“About what?” I mutter.

“Why, you were worried about your place in the castle, remember? Luckily I was here to help.”

That does sound like me. I do worry a lot.

“Now, why don’t you get back to work. I don’t keep you around just to look pretty.”

“Right…I’m…I’m sorry, my lord.” I stumble to my feet. My legs threaten to collapse again. I’m not sure why—I feel wonderful.

I cough loudly, and I can feel something spill out of my mouth. I can hear it splatter messily on the bedsheets. “I’ll send someone to clean that up,” I whisper. Why am I whispering? My throat feels so sore for some reason.

I walk slowly off the bed. Getting off of it is a bit difficult. My legs are moving so sloppily that I have to slide off backwards. My groin slides along the sheets, and I can feel a sticky trail press onto my stomach afterwards. I should send someone up to clean that too. A good secretary takes care of things like that.

I plant my rear hooves on the floor and they buckle immediately. I’m normally not this uncoordinated, am I? Maybe it was something I ate. I drag myself up and head to the door. My limbs are so stiff, but I can’t for the life of me think of anything that could be wrong. I feel so relaxed.

My hoof touches the door and I pause.

What was I going to do again?

You were going to give your report to Vibrant Pet, remember?

Right, of course. Sometimes I’m so forgetful.

Vibrant signed the paper with a flourish. “All done! Some of the descriptions were kind of vague, and it seems a little short, but I’m sure King Sombra will love it regardless of its many flaws.” She turned to Rose. “Anything else you want to add?”

Rose hadn’t moved in some time. For countless minutes she had just been idly stroking her leg. “Is it cold in here? Or is it just me?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Vibrant rolled up the parchment and opened a drawer. She fished out an appropriately colored ribbon and tied the scroll shut. The off-white of the fabric complimented the creamy color of the vellum very nicely.

She turned in her chair and held out the scroll. “Why don’t you drop this off, and you can ask King Sombra about it? I’m sure he’ll be very happy to help you. He always makes time for me when I ask him for help.”

Rose ran a hoof through her mane. “Right, ask King Sombra…” She grabbed the scroll in her mouth and walked out the door.

Author's Note

Want more of Sombra being an OP douchebag? Of course you do; Wish Fulfillment is canon with this story.

Fun fact, I wrote the first part of this right after I finished the creepy section of Fable III.