The Love She Feared

Pain. That was all the filly felt—pain and soreness. She might have felt exhaustion as well, but all her will to endure had left her long ago; all feeling was gone but the pain. She could no longer feel her legs, or the shackles that bit at them. Her wings, broken due to disregard for her well being, and clumsy hooves, would have throbbed with agony, but she had lost feeling in those as well, and they felt unfairly blissful She could not even see her tormentor, but it didn’t matter. She would never escape.

It had been a mistake to seek help from Apple Bloom. She had thought perhaps Apple Bloom could have helped, having a vast knowledge of herbs from her frequent visits to Zecora’s hut. She had been wrong. So wrong, in fact, that she had never managed to make it to Apple Bloom to tell her what the problem was. Her brother had found her first.

Drool dripped slowly off of her tongue, which hung limply from her open mouth. Her head had been propped up due to necessity, and her jaws drawn open and fastened. She breathed heavily, quickly drying her tongue with the air that passed over it, but it did not matter. It would be lubricated again soon enough. Such had been the case for several hours.

It had been a mistake to seek help from Zecora. She should have known the Zebra wouldn’t help her at all. She had been told simply to be patient, and continue trying. But patience was a skill she lacked, and she wanted to be noticed. Now. There had been a jar containing an herb that would get her all the attention she desired—Passion Kiss—and she had decided to smother herself in it while the zebra’s back was turned. The herb had worked… too well.

~   ~

She went straight to Rumble the second she got back to town. He would surely notice her now—her aroma was irrisistible. Her very presence caused him to blink, turn, and stare straight at her with a longing she had desired for too long. At last, he would be hers.

But no, the others had noticed her as well. Snips, Snails, Featherweight, Pipsqueak… She ran. They had a look of hunger in their eyes that did not sit well with her. Wings buzzed at top speed as she raced through town, trying desperately to escape the colts who sought after her with such hunger.

It was a mistake to go through town, because she gathered a whole stampede of pursuers as she went, not all of them colts—some were stallions. Fear turned to panic, and she let out a wail, eyes nearly shut with tears as her tired wings found speed they didn’t know they had.

But help would soon arrive. She shot through the gate to Sweet Apple Acres, and headed for the barn.

“Apple Bloom!” She called with terrified panic, racing through the door. Her friend was nowhere to be found. She checked every corner of the empty barn, finding nothing. “Apple Bloom are you in here?” She called out again.

“Nnope,” was the only reply. Then everything went black.

~   ~

Her air was cut off as once again he chose her mouth to be the new clasp around his large throbbing cock. Farther and farther in it slid, filling up her mouth and pressing down into her throat. She could taste herself on it, along with her blood, which dripped down her legs, some of it staining her tail. It had all been a big mistake, one that she would never recover from. Deep, down into her throat he pressed, she might have choked and sputtered if this were the first time he’d done this, but stretched as she was right now, her throat had completely relaxed already; her body had no energy left to fight back.

He thrust into her again and again, his belly rubbing her mane and messing it up. Not that she cared, or could. It was soaked and dried already, and reeked of stallion. Faster he went, his enormous ball sack slapping into her chin and neck each time he rolled forward. She closed her eyes and simply let it happen now. It was easier to simply imagine no pain. To concede—give in to defeat. She was his now, and would never escape.

A now too familiar pulse ran through the enormous length of flesh that filled her throat. Her mind—at last—chose to focus elsewhere from the pain. Where would he put it now? Would he soak her face? Her mane? It became a thankfully distracting puzzle to imagine his next movements. Before long, she got her answer. His entire length expanded and contracted what should have seemed an incredible amount, stretching her throat even more, and releasing a full payload straight down her esophogas. It came bubbling up past his dick, and dripped down her now once again moist tongue and lips.

He pulled out, granting her precious air once more, and returned to her other openings. Both had been stretched wide by now, too relaxed to fully contract again. She no longer felt the pain of him being too wide for her—only too long. She was not yet a mare, and he was large even by stallion’s standards. Each time he thrust into her she felt what should have been more than painful, but somehow it... wasn't. Not anymore. Was she simply too exhausted to feel anymore? Or was it that she’d given in? It didn’t matter. She would never escape.

At some point the pain faded completely away. The shackles really weren’t necessary. Not anymore. She had not realized how tensed she had been, until she truly relaxed every muscle in her body… and the pain stopped.

Perhaps he had grown bored of her. Perhaps she had finally lost consciousness.

Perhaps he had grown wings, and grown up. Perhaps she had as well… He tasted nice.

~   ~   ~

The sound of bubbling water roused her. She blinked a few times as her vision returned, and reached up to rub the sleep from her eyes.

Ow.

With consciousness, the pain had returned as well. Rubbing her head, the filly looked around. She was in Zecora’s hut, lying on the floor near the fire for the cauldron. The zebra had been rummaging through her cabinets for something, as usual, now turned and noticed Scootaloo, who was sitting up now.

“Ah, awake at last, my dear. I trust you have exhausted your fear?” she chimed with a smile.

As little sense as Zecora usually made, she made less now. Scootaloo tried to stand up, but her head hurt when she moved.

“Ow!” She cried out, collapsing back into a sitting position.

“Relax, sweet child. Your head may ache, but it is glad that now you wake. I found you under Nightmare’s Kiss, a dream which made death seem like bliss.”

That made a bit more sense, but… had she really been so close to death. Zecora must have seen the look on her face, because she went on.

“But all is well, my dear, have faith. Here in my hut, you are quite safe,” she said, smiling again.

It turned out that she had never made it to Zecora’s. A root or something had tripped her up on her way here, and she’d ended up flying into a plant known as Nightmare’s kiss, which released spores that sent her into a terrifying nightmare about whatever had been on her mind at the time. Rumble’s love having been what was on her mind… It was only a dream. Zecora walked her back to her house in Ponyville to ensure she didn’t fall into any more trouble, and left her to sleep off her headache peacefully, after giving her some herbs.

She’d find another way to get Rumble to notice her tomorrow.