Hundred and Sixty One

Chapter 2

Light

Contains explicit scene, violence, and forced intercourse

I could feel his sickly seed filling my inside after plowing my marehood for hours. I spazzed and clamped on his unsightly prod as I was forced to an unwanted orgasm after an endless sexual assault. I screamed and flailed inside my head, as the shameful feeling of sex and satisfaction sparked through my body; I was fucked and bred by a stallion whom I barely know. My conflicted heart was shattering between the pleasure so evident in my senses and the dreadful guilt I felt from every pulse of his penis. All I could feel and think was loads after loads of his thick, white semen burying deep in my womb.

And sadly, I somehow liked it.

It may be the result of my past, or that I may have Stockholm Syndrome, but feeling my body being roughly taken by another as mere sex tool gave me a chilling, but enticing shiver. It may be natural instinct, that after hours, days and years of using my sex and dignity as tool for money and survival, my mind tried to make joy and pleasure out of this to preserve my sanity. As the thick, hot cum pooled and overflowed from my wrecked, used cunt and drooled shamelessly onto the bed sheets; as this stallion cuddled me, pretended he loved me or cared; as he used and fucked my hole for his own sickening pleasure while I was his somepony else, I felt a dirty and revolting bliss oozing from my vagina. Use me as a mere persona for your tainted desires, use me as a mere fuck hole and drain your lust and semen in me, use me and fuck me hard, dominate me, rut me and make me your broodmare!

Yet, I hated every single moment of it.

I felt hurt. I felt betrayed. I felt meaningless. Was I just a fuck toy? For so long I could only remember myself as the vent for the colts. For so long I was just a tool. For so long I did not have a purpose. I hate sex and I hate myself. I hate stallions and I hate living. I hate my womb and this nauseating menace between my legs. But yet, I enjoyed all the pleasure from the submission and forceful orgasm I got. This conflict was just hurting. Who was I? What was I? A sick masochist? Or a wounded victim?

He cuddled me for the longest of time. Which gave me the time to think and cry a little inside. I stared blankly at the wooden door, imagining all the other fillies outside who could be normal and happy. He cuddled me like his filly and gently stroked my fur, but it felt like a trap, imprisoning me on this sex bed. And yet, I felt great, loved and secure from his caresses at the same time. I wanted to stay in this bed with him and for him for all eternity, even if that meant I must gift him my sex. A mare may be a mare and need no stallion, but I wanted one. I needed one.

Although, I did wonder, who was Dew Drop?

Probably his wife who grew bored of their marriage, his fillyfriend who ditched him for some jocks, or his crush that he would never express himself to. It always was.

It must be great to be loved.

I felt great to pretend his filly anyway. As a persona, transcending my own consciousness and roleplay as somepony else. As something which he could see through and find his mare. As his vessel towards the sex and lust he dreamed for. Be his Dew Drop.

We stayed on the bed motionless. I would wish to do something else, but he paid the bits. He owned me for this period of time, and he could do whatever sex on me. I stayed as his company; as he stayed as my solace.

At some point, he sat up, decoupling his embrase and left the bed. I looked at him as he walked further and further away. Was it something I did? Was I not good enough? Where was he going? Please don't leave, I'll repay you, I'm sorry.

He turned around and looked at me. I blushed. I felt shameful and vulnerable. The dirty mess of my cunt was uncouth; I involuntarily flickered my tail thinking about how vulgar it was. But at the same time, I wanted him to look at me, to give me attention, to stroke my fur with his calming gaze. Even if I was filthy, and deserve no pity and affection from him.

But who was I to him? As he turned away quickly.

"Thanks, Miss Amber. You were lovely."

Was I? Was he just saying that? I'm so sorry, I am a bad mare, please let me make up for you. I'll let you rut me for free. I am a bad mare… But before I could utter, the door has slammed shut. And he was gone.

I felt discarded and lonely. The room was empty and silent, and filling the room was this hollow presence that haunted me. Left in a pool of cum was me as the stallion finished his deed and left. No romance. No love. Only sex and primal lust. A business exchange. I knew that. But it hurt. Sex without love was the only sex I had, but I knew it felt missing. I knew it damaged me. I knew why I cry every night.

But I loved it. Everytime the client leaves, an unknown surge of wrenching excitment diffuses throughout my body. Excited that he took what he needed from me and left. Excited that he played with my feelings and left. Excited that he defiled me for hours and left without even a smile. I felt an illogical comfort in knowing how useless I was, how I was just a cum dumpster for their fantasies and lust. And the best of all, I did this knowingly.

The room glowed in a solemn blue as the world prepared itself for dawn. I gently stroke my wings as I lied on the bed, weeping with a smile on my face, feeling the pungent cum smearing and sloshing in my cunt, and recalling the long lost memories of me being a true pony. The world was quiet.

Then suddenly, somepony opened the door.

No… not now…

"Leash? W-What are you doing here…"

"Shut the buck up slut. Where's my money?"

"I… I just gave you last week, a-and I don't have bits right now–"

He pointed at the pouch of bits on the counter. "Now what would these be then, you whore?" he said, looking at me with a devilish grin.

I was practically shivering from the overwhelming fear. "N-No! I wasn't— please, those aren't yours—"

"What the buck you mean it's not mine? Are you bucking hiding something from me you broodmare? You're mine you bitch, you're mine, and so are your bits, you hear?" He snatched the pouch ferociously.

I was sobbing. After letting a stranger ravage me for the entire night, I now got nothing back. But I had nothing to say. He was by coltfriend and my boss. He owned me and six other mares. And if he wanted to take my money earned with my sex, I could do nothing.

He continued to search, ransacking the room. But before I could ask, I saw him walking out of the bathroom with my purse. He poured the bag empty onto the floor in front of me, then grabbed my wallet from the ground.

"P-please don't take them… that's all I have…"

I was worried. There was all my week's salary, and the only thing I have left, after he came to my home and took every bits I got.

He ignored me and walked towards the door, taking with him almost a thousand bits I earned from tears, cum and sweat. I was panicking. I almost fainted. I lost my mind for a split second and did the unthinkable — I spread my wings and flew towards him and tackled him for my wallet.

He didn't fell, however, as he was too strong, and I was just a timid broodmare. I reached my hoof far out for my money like a starving foal in sight of food. I was clinging onto his neck, but he could still held my wallet away from my reach. He was startled. I could sense his bewildered gaze. But I could only think about the bits. Nothing mattered more than the bits at this point.

But of course, such disobedience would not be tolerated. He struck his hoof as hard as he could across my cheeks, so strong it sent me flying and crashing five hooves away onto the floor.

I held my broken bleeding nose, grimacing from pain, as I cried and regretted my misbehavior. He has knocked a huge wind out of me, and I lost my senses for some seconds. But then I returned to consciousness when the tearing pain spread and radiated from and throughout my head. The searing burn on my bruised nose and the throbbing bloat across my face punished me for how disobedient I was. My sore eyes weeped from the pain as I coupled my nose to hold my unmannered bleeding inside. I quailed in fear of him striking me again, of him hitting even harder and breaking my bones as he has done before, or of him abandoning me forever. I just hoped this was over. I hoped he took the money away instead. I hoped this never happened.

But I knew, and I anticipated, he would not let me get away this easily. He walked towards me and stared. I whimpered under his blazing eyes and submitted myself.

"You. Bucking. Whore. Have you lost your mind? Do you want me to kick you out of here? Do you want to loose the only bucking job you filthy, pathetic meat can handle?" He screamed.

"I'm… I'm sorry Leash…"

"Oh I don't think you're bucking sorry, whore; you're just saying that because you don't even know how serious this is! Can't you see my serious face, huh? Look at me– bucking look at me! Do you see how serious I am? I'm seriously mad, bitch. I'm really bucking mad at you, you worthless cumhole!"

I sobbed a little more.

"Look at you, look at your nasty cunt. It's still dripping semen from some random stallion like a drooling slut. And look at you in your thigh-high socks and makeup. You are a whore, Copal. You're born a whore. Your cutie mark even agrees with that. You're just a pathetic creature whose only purpose is to spread your bucking legs and let every-bucking-pony fuck your pussy!"

I drooped my head upon hearing his words, sobbing, affirming silently.

"You're a whore, Copal… just a bits-making fuck toy."

He reached out his hoof and held my neck. I was slightly alarmed and looked at him. What was he trying to do? He held my neck tight with both hooves, and I started to panic. What's going on? Was… was he going to kill me? He stood up and pulled by body up by the neck, yanking and pushing me hard onto the bed. He pinned me onto the mattress faced up, while his face was wearing a dark, demonic grin. I instinctively held onto his hooves and tried to unstrangle myself, but that just pleasured him more.

"Yeah whore… struggle more…" he relished on my frightened, helpless expression with his ravenous gaze. He was still pinning me down, while casually pacing forward on the bed so he could access me easier. I could see his penis growing rapidly between our bodies. I was tired from the last customer's sex, but I was also too numb to object another. I knew I would suffer tonight.

Leash just slammed his 18 1/2 inch prod into my vagina in one go. No pausing. No warning. The entire 3-inch-thick pike disappeared in my womb. I could not describe the searing pain tearing my body apart as my swollen cunt was stuffed beyond its limits. I could feel his forceful and abrupt penetration spearing and scraping my sensitive walls inside, adding onto the tearing burn spreading from my cunt. I cried under the pain, flailing and yelling and trying to push the stabbing penis out, but that only earned his hoof stuffing into my mouth as he tried to gag me. I thrashed hard against his entry. I felt as hurt as being disemboweled. I cried and frantically squirmed to push him out, but that just wedged his prod even deeper. He deliberately rocked his penis in and out with such brutal force that I could only wail even louder under the torment and agony. My face was smeared with tears, but he looked even brighter.

He grazed his hoof against my tears as he smiled with triumph and excitement. Then he slapped my face suddenly, rubbing his hoof on my stinging cheeks and slapped me again. I screamed in shock and pain, sniveling and begging for him to stop, but he just slapped my face again. I yelped and whimpered as I tried to ignore the pain while he struck misery onto my cheek and thrust devastation into my cunt.

His vicious face rocked back and forth above me as his hoof brushed and slapped my chest and abdomen. The initial burn in my gash has grown numb, but his forceful entry and girth was still uncomfortable and hurtful. Yet the sore aside, I could start to feel his veins and perpetual ring rubbing against my abused walls. His flair tip was pushing against my cervix and threatening to tear it apart. He was pinning me down on my shoulders with all his weight. I could feel his dominance and absolute authority, as he breed me at will against my wish, as me and take my sex. After the shock and unwelcomed torture, I could feel myself giving sex to my coltfriend, as inexplicable as it sounded, and I would try my best, even if it meant pain and sexual abuse to me, to give my body to my love as he pleased.

The rutting continued as he groaned in pleasure. The pain of entry has subsided, but I was too used and exhausted to feel stimulated. I was as clouded as the milky morning lights casted on our sweaty skin and the wooden furnishing of the room. He rubbed my wings as if I was his doll, disheveling my feathers and pulling my downs at the same time. I sobbed softly under him, taking in the humiliation and violation of my most delicate part. I wanted to scream and cry and escape, but I couldn't. My body betrayed my soul and yearned for more of his abuse, wishing he would thrust harder and tear my walls, and filling me with painful sexual bliss. I was slowly succumbing to the pleasure he bestowed on me as sparks of electricity surged through my body. Fear and logic has failed me long ago. I just wish to stay – not moving nor thinking, just laying down my soft, fragile body for his entertainment.

Then he grabbed me by my neck again, and with insurmountable force he threw me off the bed onto the hard wooden floor. I whimpered in pain as I lay faced down, aching from the impact and from within my womb. I looked back at him with teary eyes, shocked and scared by the sudden violence, until he stepped off the bed and tromped towards me. He grabbed my flank and pulled it upwards, aiming his penis at my raised rump. He threw his body forwards, hooves firmly clenched around my chest, and steadily pushing his meat into my long abused and defiled nether again. He was rutting me in the feral position.

It felt different yet similar when he fucked me like a feral pony. His prod went in deeper and milder than it was, and the rutting felt more sensical as if our sex were specifically aligned. But it was still the same humiliation and unwanted stimulation, while I was perching on the floor, rump high, like a dog to be mounted by everypony. I rested my head on the cold scratchy floor as tears of pain, pleasure and shame dripped from my dreary eyes. My mind has detached from my body. While I could feel every painful thrust from his cock at my back, I couldn't feel any emotion at all. I could only hear my own recapitulation, describing every detail of this horrifying event, but couldn't feel the terror and dread of being used as a cumhole and being forcefully penetrated. I knew I wanted to cry. I knew I wanted to be saved. I knew I wanted all these to end so I could be a normal filly again. But I just couldn't feel it. All I could do is lay there, finally collapsed under years of violation and indignity, accepting my fate and taking the pounding like a broodmare. I wanted to stop feeling. I wanted to leave this body. I wanted to die.

He continued to rut me in this manner for some time. He thrusted rough and deep into me, not caring for once how it hurt my sensitive flesh. He deplored my body with his hooves at the same time, rubbing up and down my sad and exhausted lump of body of meat. He touched and circled my cutie mark, then slapped it multiple times until it was flushed and stinging. Then he spat some saliva onto it and smeared it all over, making it as filthy and disgusting as possible.

"Look at your bucking slut mark… what a bucking disgusting cutie mark you have, Copal. It sums you up perfectly, you know? A worthless piece of meat you are; you're only meant to be fucked by everypony else!"

Please… please don't say that… my cutie mark… it's the only thing I had… I'm sorry… I beg you…

He slapped even harder on my cutie mark, a symbol of my identity and my soul. He smeared more of his spit and our sex fluids, then mock about how it looked like feces.

"This is the bucking worst cutie mark I've ever seen. I could've branded it off for you so no one need to see this shitty abomination. Really, I'd rather fuck a pile of shit than seeing your ass mark with my eyes."

I could only look at him, while he rampaged my womb and defiled the only piece of self-worth I had, and died a little inside.

He continued to rut me as I raised my rump to provide him my cunt. He went harder and rougher as time went on, and he started to grab and pull my mane. I was forced to bend my head in a compromizing position, staring blank into the void while pain resonated from my scalp. He yanked my mane again and pulled my hind legs over my shoulder, switching position and pumping raw thrusts and precum from above. I was bent in the way furthest from a pony was intended, and it made me even more powerless against his pillage, as I could only watch from below while he took my rump and fucked deep into my body from above. He looked down on me, pumping violently his stallionhood deep into my womb and pushing his precum deep within. And I could see everything, every sickening fluids drowning my worn, disgusting snatch. I stared dully as his cock above plunged in and out of my wet and swollen cunt like a plumber plumbing a soaked sickening drain. It looked so degrading, as if I was just a filthy sewage hole for dumping semen. I was physically dominated and sexually used. And he was glowing with delightment, drowned in his own pleasure of fucking and abusing me like that.

He grunted and groaned. He gripped my legs even tighter. He used me as leverage and drove is penis even deeper into my nether. I could feel my inside was stuffed to its limits, and his shaft prying open my cervix into my inner chamber. He was close, I could tell.

With one last, painful thrust he drilled his penis all the way into my tormented womb. I screamed from the sharp pain as his tip pushed opened my cervix by pure force. I could feel his shaft pulsing as a burning sensation filled my abdomin. He blasted his thick, hot seed deep into my mare chamber, then quickly pulled out while coating my walls full of his steaming load. His stallionhood shot masses of cum onto my nether and chest, and loads after loads of his semen onto my face. I shutted my eyes due to reflex, but I could feel his hot, viscous paste smearing my entire face and pooling in my instinctively opened mouth. My mind immediately revolted at the bitter and slimey taste of my mouthful of cum and the pungent odor all over my nostrils. But I did nothing, as if I was trained and used too many times to do anything else. I felt nothing. As my womb was filled with his potent seed, as my face was covered in cum and absently swallowed his semen, I blacked out for some seconds where my brain shut off itself.

I flopped flat on the floor as he no longer held my legs, and I could only lay there motionless after the whole ordeal. He squatted in front of my face, and jammed in penis into my drooling mouth.

"Lick it clean you whore."

My body reflexed and circled his cock with my tongue. He thrusted for a little more, but eventually he grew tired and pulled back out.

He left me on the ground covered in cum and took my money. Unceremoniously he spat at me one last time while walking towards the door, and said.

"See you soon Copel, you broodmare. I expect you to fuck more clients this week because I need the money. My. Money."

And then the door was slammed shut.

For the longest time, I could not think. I could not move either, as I had no more energy and will to. I could only lay on the floor praying that someone would come in and save me, asking if I'm hurt or do I need help, helping to wipe the semen off.

But who was I kidding? I don't pray. It never worked, obviously.

The potent smell and lingering taste still haunted my senses, and I could feel the cum drooling out from my searing cunt. But I couldn't bother to clean myself up. I should have been traumatized and fainted right now after being raped by somepony you wish they would die, but I felt nothing. My emotions were shut off. I couldn't even think about what has happened. I couldn't even cry.

Perhaps because this has happened many times before.

The room has now been well lit from the sun outside. The darkness of the room contrasted the sun beams cutting through the air. I was shone by the ray of light and slowly warmed by Celestia's benevolent glow across Equestria, but I felt colder than ever before. I was shimmered by the ruler's grace, but casted in the shadows of society. I cringed at the beam of light like a creature that belonged to the dark. I cringed as if the light was Celestia's gaze at this despicable mess of mine, this cum-covered body of wickedness, this mare with a vile and unchaste heart who dared sell her sex and dignity for bits. I cringed, because the sun ray became a spotlight highlighting all the flaws and sins and worthlessness of this low-life of mine, stripping me completely naked in front of the eyes of the ruler and all the ponies who judge. I cringed, because there could be no light in my road ahead.

I looked away from the window, laying on the floor and completely given up. Out of the stickyness across my fur, I could feel a trail of wetness streaming down my eyes. I knew deep down the horrible demon of mine was celebrating the pleasure of sex and submission I felt. I knew deep down some part of me loved the forceful entry and humiliation I just suffered. I knew that somehow my body relished in the sexual pleasure of being defiled and assaulted. I am a masochist; I am a victim. I was afraid to think as I could not understand myself. In this vast magical land of Equestria laid me on a floor of a small wooden room silently weeping, knowing that no one would help me; knowing that I couldn't help myself; knowing that no one could even know nor care. I only knew I was pleasured from the hurt and hurt from the pleasure. And I knew, I was killing myself.

But then, that is who I am.

I closed my eyes. And the world went dark.