Interrupted Cadance

Chapter 5: The Sound of a Stallion Moaning

I surprise myself by not hesitating.

I suppose now that I've come this far, there's no point in delaying any further. No reason to pretend I don't want this.

I've had a hundred chances to turn back. I could have forgotten about this place as soon as Shining mentioned it. I could have rejected the initial urge to come here. I could have let the rain pass.

But here I am, reaching out with my foreleg and pulling the curtain back as soon as I'm close enough to do so. I do it almost reflexively, as if I've been to this place before. As if this is normal.

As the curtain is pulled away, the sight before me is anything but normal.

In front of me is a large room which is lit with slightly dim red lights. Dance music is playing, but it's soft enough that the moans and screams coming from the room's inhabitants mostly drown it out. There are large, soft pillowy beds strewn all about; most have multiple occupants.

There are scores of ponies in this room, mares and stallions in roughly equal number. Most pay me no heed as I enter the room; they're too busy playing with each other. Some are kissing, others licking each other. Most are going much further than that.

A mare on the bed closest to me is sobbing as two other mares lick her cunt and asshole. For a moment, I think she's in pain. Until I hear her beg her partners to lick her deeper.

One bed has at least eight or nine ponies on it, all bunched together, cuddling touching, caressing and pleasuring each other at random. There is barely enough room on the bed for all of them, but that seems to be the point. Most of them have their eyes closed as they randomly reach out and touch each other with their hooves, rubbing up against whoever is closest.

One mare squeals as a stallion enters her cunt. He kisses her neck.

“What's your name?” the stallion asks.

“None of your business,” she says. She begins to thrust herself toward him as the mare behind her gropes her ass.

There are all sorts of hooks and ropes along the ceiling and walls. A stallion, who is wearing some sort of leather harness that forces his tail up, braces himself as he's bent over a table and strapped down by a skinny, beautiful mare. A loud slap echoes through the room as she strikes his ass with her hoof.

“You're trembling,” she says to him. Her voice has a beautiful sharpness to it, like a piece of music which ends abruptly. “This is your last chance to back out.”

“I'm sorry...” the stallion says. “I've just never done this before...”

“It's perfectly okay if you don't want to do it,” the mare says. “No judgments here. But I will have to ask you to find another mistress. I mean, if you're not into the things I'm into, it's just not going to work out. I can introduce you to a friend of mine who prefers to stay strictly hetero...”

“No, no, it's okay...” the stallion says. “I want to belong to you. I want to do this...I'm just nervous...”

“That's actually good news,” the mare says. “My other plaything likes his boys scared.”

She nods in the direction of a second stallion, who walks toward her, his head bowed.

“Take him,” she says, leaning back on a nearby chair and spreading her back legs. “Don't hold back.”

“Thank you, mistress,” the stallion says.

She begins rubbing herself as her slave penetrates the bound stallion's ass.

The bound stallion screams, and his partner hesitates for a moment. He looks at his mistress. She nods.

The slave resumes his pace, this time ignoring the whimpers coming from his restrained partner.

“Good boys,” says the mare, as she begins rubbing her clit. She's dripping all over the seat and seems to be speaking louder than she needs to, enjoying the stares she's getting from other patrons. “Oh, how I love watching my boys fuck! How about you, dear? Are you enjoying that big, hard cock in your ass?”

“I...I...” the bound stallion said, “I love it! I love it because you're watching me! Thank you for letting me serve you, mistress! Thank you!”

I blush. I'm just one of a small crowd of ponies who have gathered around to watch this spectacle, but somehow I feel as if I'm the only one here. Something in that stallion's tone, in way he speaks to his mistress with such adoration, makes me feel almost connected to him.

Even as the other stallion fucks him, the bound pony keeps looking back at his mistress. And every time he does, I can hear his breathing grow faster, his moans grow louder.

This isn't just about sex for him. It's about letting go. It's about becoming a vessel for someone else's pleasure. It's about the moment when their pleasure becomes your own.

Why do I know this so instinctively? Why does it feel so right to me?

I think back on all those nights when I asked my husband to tell me his desires, only for him to return the question back to me. I think of the frustration I felt on those nights, the desires which went unfulfilled. And I understand.

I look at the other stallion, whose pace has increased greatly in just a few minutes. There is a loud slapping noise as he thrusts himself completely into his partner. He bites his lip.

His mistress, now fucking herself with her hoof, seems to recognize the expression.

“Go ahead,” she says.

The stallion smiles, and makes one last, powerful thrust, hard enough to cause the heavy table his partner is tied to to tip forward slightly. He cries out as his seed shoots into the bound stallion's ass.

Both stallions are still for a moment, breathing heavily, but then their mistress beckons the unbound stallion toward her. He pulls out of his partner, who cries out softly as seed leaks from his hole.

“Thank you for letting me use him, mistress,” the stallion says. “Did you enjoy watching us?”

“Oh, you put on a good enough show,” says the mare. “But I haven't come yet. Fix that.”

The stallion bows, and kneels down before his mistress' spread back legs. She whimpers with delight as he begins eating her out.

“Ohh, before I forget,” she says between moans. “I'm glad you're enjoying watching us, everyone! Feel free to make use of my other slave while I'm having my way with this one.”

Appreciative cheers are heard from the crowd. A light brown unicorn mare, whose mane is completely shaved off, steps forward. She's wearing a strapon. The bound stallion twitches involuntarily.

But I'm barely paying attention to them. I'm transfixed at the sight of the mare being orally serviced by her stallion. A moment ago, he seemed, to the common observer, to be completely in control, taking his restrained partner and using him to get himself off, then leaving as soon as he was done.

But he was never in control at all. Everything he did, from his first thrust to his final climax, was about her. This stallion had given himself completely over to his mistress, turning himself into nothing but an instrument to her whims.

I remember the exact moment I realized that I wanted to be like him. It was when he first bowed to her.

I never bow to anyone. Not even Luna. Instead, I spend my days walking the palace halls and trying my best to remain aloof as scores of ponies bow down to me.

It's a sign of respect, of course. But it's also part of an unspoken agreement. The bows are never free. They come with a burden.

Sooner or later, one of the ponies who bows to me will come to me with a request. Princess, they will say. You who are wise and learned above all common ponies. Help us. Guide us. Save us.

So I do. And I am happy to do so. My life's work helps so many ponies, and it feels wonderful to make a difference.

But sometimes the weight of so many tasks is just too much. I need an escape. I need release.

I need someone to bow to.

I leave the spectacle I've been observing, almost as if I'm in a trance, and I begin to wander to the other side of the room, past the dance floor. Most ponies are ignoring the music, but there are a few couples dancing, though most are using it as a pretext to grope and fondle each other while making half-hearted shows of keeping up with the rhythm.

As I pass the dance floor, my eye is instantly drawn to a light blue stallion, who sits in a chair near the far end of the room, while a unicorn mare rubs his cock in plain view of the entire room. He is somewhat muscular, and quite well endowed. But that's not what makes him beautiful.

What makes him beautiful is the way he's looking at his partner. The lust and desire written on his face. His cock is throbbing, leaking precum all over his partner's hoof. But it's nowhere near as obscene as the way he looks at her.

No one has ever looked at me that way before.

All of a sudden, he grabs his partner by the mane. She stops touching him immediately, and he pushes her head down unto his cock. She opens her mouth obediently, taking him into her throat without a word.

I want to be her.

I begin walking in their direction without thinking. It happens automatically, like I'm being pulled toward them. Toward him.

I'm not sure how much time passes, if any does at all. But suddenly the stallion is looking me right in the eye.

“Hey there, Princess,” he says. “Enjoying the show?”

No.

How does he...how can he possibly...

I take a step back. “Why did you call me that?” I ask weakly.

The stallion laughs, and gently pushes his partner off his cock.

“No offense intended,” he says. “It's just that I've been watching you. The way you've been walking through this club, watching everyone but not saying anything. That slow, high-legged stride of yours. It's just so...regal, I guess. 'Princess' was the first word that came to mind. It's not like there aren't plenty of doms here who make their subs call them that.”

These terms are new to me, but I'm able to discern their meaning pretty quickly. So he thinks I'm dominant. I guess I usually am.

But not tonight. Tonight I want to be anything but.

I lower my head.

“That's just how I've always walked,” I say. “I'm sorry I put on airs. The last thing I want is for ponies to think I'm a...dom.”

The stallion smiles. His partner, on the other hoof, seems less pleased by my presence. She glowers possessively in my direction. I try my best to ignore her.

“The truth is,” I say. “I'm looking for someone to um, to serve...I want to be told what to do.”

“Do you want to?” he asks. “Or need to?”

“I need to!” I say instantly. “And you're so beautiful and strong and...I'm sorry, I'm probably being terribly rude...”

“Yes, you are,” the mare says. “My master is busy with me right now.”

“Now, Snowdrift, there's no need to be rude,” the stallion says. “If Princess here wants to have fun with us, I say we put her to the test.”

Snowdrift smiles, but I'm not sure I like her expression.

“Yes, master,” she says happily. “Whatever you say.”

“So you say you want to serve me tonight?” the stallion says. “My name is Charger. But you can call me Sir.”

Charger. I knew I recognized that name.

He's a member of the castle guard. I've never spoken to him before, but I see him almost every day. And almost every time I do, he is bowing to me.

Now, without hesitation, I bow to him.

“Yes, sir. Please tell me how I can serve you,” I say.

Suddenly my back feels so much lighter.

It no longer matters that I'm betraying my husband by being here. It no longer matters that I just handed over control to a pony I just spoke to for the first time. It doesn't matter that he very well may know who I am.

All of a sudden, nothing matters but him. My only genuine wish in the world is to follow his commands.

And for the first time in years, I feel free.

“Oh, it's not that simple, Princess. You see, Snowdrift here will get upset if I let just anyone join in on our fun. That's why, if you want to serve me, you have to serve her, first.”

Snowdrift walks over to me, and I notice for the first time that she's wearing a collar. It comes complete with a tag, which bears her name on it.

So he keeps her like a pet. And yet I'm being treated as though I'm lower than even her.

I sigh happily.

The mare runs her forehoof over my cheek, then leans in, opening her mouth.

I've never kissed a mare before. I'm not really interested in females at all.

But out of the corner of my eye, I see Charger watching us, with his erect cock in his hoof. It's all the motivation I need.

I open my mouth obediently, and taste another mare for the first time.

*******

“Why do you think it was a mistake?”

Cadance cocked her head to the side in confusion. Was this filly serious? Did she not understand the full implications of what Cadance had done? Or was her response some kind of sarcastic joke?

No, the Princess thought. Listen to Silver's voice. She's being sincere. She must not understand how wrong it is to...debase oneself the way I did. I have to remember, I'm dealing with a very sick little foal here.

“Of course it was a mistake,” Cadance said. “I...I betrayed my husband...”

“Have you talked to him about this?” Silver asked. “Maybe he-”

“That's ENOUGH, Silver Spoon,” Cadance said, raising her voice a bit higher than she intended to. “This session is supposed to be about you. I can't help you if you keep trying to remind me of...”

Cadance's voice quivered. “...of what I did that night.”

“...I'm sorry,” Silver said. “I just thought talking about this would help us connect a little better.”

“I'm afraid you were mistaken, then. I don't think you really understand the issues at play in my situation, Silver,” Cadance said.

“Maybe I don't...” Silver said. “I guess I don't see why you feel so bad about it. I mean, no one was being forced to do anything, right? And no foals were involved. It was just a bunch of ponies enjoying themselves. No one got hurt. Everyone had the right to say no...”

Silver looked down at her hooves.

“I've had sex more times than I can count,” she said. “But never like that.

“Is it wrong that when I heard your story, I was jealous of you?”

“Is it...?” Cadance echoed, shocked at the filly's question. Her voice trailed off as she pondered what she had just heard.

Cadance pictured a Pegasus mare she had seen at the club. The one who was bound in the center of the room, with her holes exposed. Cadance remembered how the mare retained a look of rapture on her face as pony after pony had used her body that night. But after an hour or so of such treatment, the mare had called out “stop!” and the stallion who had been fucking her had, immediately but with some reluctance, pulled out of her and left her alone, while one of the dominant ponies let her out of the harness.

The mare had smiled, given her master a kiss, and retreated to the far corner of the room for drinks and light conversation with a few friends.

Half an hour later, she was back in the harness. She was still there when Cadance had left.

It was that word, Cadance realized. That one little word which separated what went on in that club from what had happened to Silver Spoon.

“Stop.”

In the club, it, or some other, pre-chosen safety word, could be invoked at any time, and it was always respected.

For Silver Spoon and the foals of the Circle, the word meant nothing. At best, it would be ignored. At worst, they would be brutally punished for speaking it.

“When you told me about what you did at that club,” Silver said, “You sounded really happy. I thought you'd enjoyed it...but whenever you bring it up, you talk about it like it's something horrible.”

“I had no right to enjoy it,” Cadance said. “My husband-”

“Your husband loves you, and would want you to feel good, wouldn't he?” Silver said.

“It's not that simple!” Cadance replied.

“Why not?” Silver asked.

The question hung in the air for far longer than Cadance would have liked.

“I'm not trying to challenge you or anything,” Silver said. “I know monogamy is important for some ponies. I just don't think that way, I guess...”

“My husband and I made vows, Silver Spoon,” Cadance said. “We swore to be faithful to one another. No matter how much I enjoyed what I did that night, breaking a promise to someone you love is wrong.”

Silver turned and looked out the window. The sun was at its peak in the noontime sky.

“I know it is,” Silver said. “But even when a pony does something completely wrong, sometimes it can lead to good things. Like with Miss Rarity...”

“Silver, you shouldn't speak of her like that,” Cadance said. “Nothing good could ever come of what Rarity did to you.”

Silver smiled gently. “I don't think that's true,” she said. “I mean, I know what she did was terrible. But think of what it led to!

“If she hadn't taken me as her slave, I wouldn't have gone to the Gathering. And then I wouldn't have met Fancy, and ended up staying with him. And if that hadn't happened, I wouldn’t have been able to help Twilight liberate the Gallery. All those foals would still be down there. Celestia would still be keeping the Circle going. All of this happened because of the choices Miss Rarity made.”

“Silver, listen to what you're saying!" Cadance replied angrily. "How can you make excuses for that monster?”

Silver shook her head. “I'm not saying she did anything right. Nothing can excuse what she did to my friends.”

Nothing can excuse what she did to you, either, Cadance thought.

“And even Miss Rarity realizes that now,” Silver said.

"If she was here right now...well, I would leave the room as soon as I could. I don't think it's a good idea for me to have contact with her. Maybe someday, but not now. But before I left, I would say thank you. Not for any of the awful things she did to us. But just for finally realizing, at the end, that she could be a better pony.

“Because that's what I want to be too, Princess. Better,” Silver said. “And for all the pain she caused me, I think it may have been Miss Rarity who started me down that path. I mean, I'm pretty sure I would have gotten there anyway if I'd never met her. But this is how it happened. So is it so wrong for me to want to focus on the tiny bit of good that came from something so bad?”

“I just don't want you to lose sight of what's important, Silver,” Cadance said. “Thanking Rarity won't help you move past her.”

“I know,” Silver said. “But being hard on yourself won't help you move past what you did, either.”

“Silver...!”

“I'm just saying,” Silver said. “You shouldn't feel so down on what you did that night. The only reason I feel so comfortable talking to you right now is because I think I understand how you felt then. That feeling of wanting to belong to someone else, to let go of your worries and be in someone else's control...I've felt that way, too...

“And I've never had anyone to talk to about it, Princess. Not until you.”

“Oh! Well, I'm glad to hear that,” Cadance said, a little awkwardly. "To be honest, the other therapists did mention that you had trouble opening up to them...”

“Can we talk about that night some more?” Silver asked. “I mean, you don't have to go into detail or anything. But I really want to hear more about him.”

“Who?” Cadance said, a little uncomfortable.

“Charger,” Silver replied. “You never told me exactly what he made you do.”

ONE LAST WORD TO LISTEN FOR NEXT TIME:

“Goodbye.”