Chapters Author's Note
Contains explicit scene, slight domination and submission, and prostitution.
Edit (2014.1.25;02:20PST): Changed character name to Dew Drop.
1: 200 bits
Chapter 1
200 bits
Contains explicit scene, slight domination and submission, and prostitution.
It was another night indistinguishable from one another. The cold fall breeze swirled along the red brick walls of the tenements, and brushed against my indigo coat, sending chills into my spine. I tucked myself deeper into my Marc Neigh York coat, in hopes to withheld the wind as I walked along the stone slab alleyway.
It was another 2 a.m. weekday in Manehattan. Even though I was in the upper town area, the shop signs, caravan head lights and the lit up sky still illuminated the streets as if it was daytime. Red, orange and yellow, the shades of luminance casted a tangerine light onto the brick red walls of the buildings, and gave a flaxen hue to the pavement and the concrete motorway. Occasional hums of the motorized caravans echoed along the streets, reflecting on the building walls, disorienting myself in the city streets.
I took a turn into a back lane. It was littered with cardboard boxes and unwanted scrap papers, and the walls of the seven-story tall buildings were mounted with pipes and electric boxes. Wading through those, I eventually arrived at a simple wooden door on my right side, illuminated by a dim light bulb on top of it.
And standing next to the door was a mare. A mare I was looking for.
"Miss Amber, I presume?"
"And you are?"
"My name's Neon, my friend Exchange speaks fondly of you,"
She pondered for a while, which gave me time to admire her glossy, innocent rose red eyes. Her carmine mane casually curled around her neck. On her pink-coated body was a red silk dress with a tight corset, and on her hooves were crimson silk lingerie socks, accompanied by a set of golden hoof heels.
"Ah, him."
In such a cold weather, she was quite underdressed; in such a dark grey alleyway, she stood a contrast with her red-hued appearance. And in the faintest way, she reminded me of Dew Drop… I shrug the thoughts of her off.
"You dress pretty Miss Amber.”
She looked at me and smiled, “Of course I do.”
"And you have a beautiful mane too," I tried to add.
She chuckled, "My mane isn't so beautiful and tidy as you might think."
"Well from what I see, I beg to differ," I took the chance and inched closer, where I could start to see the blush on her cheek. "Unless, you'd like to prove me wrong."
"Oh Mr. Neon, I bet you'd love to," she shifted and looked at me in the eyes, while running a hoof along my mane as well. Her sultry eyes were staring at me, as if evaluating me to be worthy or not her caressing. She licked her lips as her hoof landed on my shoulders, and while she had her smile faded ever so slightly, she added, gracefully.
"What motivates you to travel so deep into town? To find me, specifically?"
"Because you are exactly what I want. You're beautiful, charming and, not to mention, sexy."
She chuckled and lifted her hoof away from me, saying, "Oh Mr. Neon, I'm flattered. You wouldn't have come if I weren't sexy would you?"
I grinned, "Maybe. You never know." I leaned closer at her ears, sniffing her mane. I smelled fragrance of L&A's rose petal shampoo, Carousel's latest perfume, and also a slight hint of musk. I hovered my muzzle an inch in front of the outer folds of her ears, breathing into her auditory canal. She made an ever so slightly whimper and flicked her ears. And as my muzzle hanged lustfully, I said.
"Shall we?"
She moved away to face me, once again looking into my eyes. Her sultry smile was replaced by a lustful, yet pretending grin. She replied.
"Follow me."
I watched her as she slowly trotted towards the wooden door. The shift of her body as she twisted the door knob revealed a pair of pink-toned wings tucked under her dress. A pegasus; a pegasus mare especially, they were the cutest and most prurient mare you could hope for in bed. Just like Dew Drop… who is one I didn't want to think of.
We walked pass the wooden counter next to the door and the fat grey stallion behind it. He was watching me with forbidding eyes, probably checking me against the blacklist in his mind. We took a turn and climbed the oak stairs to the second level. I eyed Ms. Amber’s posterior throughout the time. Her translucent silk would reveal so faintly the crevice on her back, as her butt cheeks swayed from side to side ever so slightly as she walked. I held my drool and lust back, trying to save them for the later events in this evening. Thus I eyed the surroundings instead of her gorgeous, vivacious body.
We stood in front of another wooden door, the third to the right from the stairs to be exact. It was barren, worn and unwaxed, and the only decoration worth mentioning was the door sign "161" placed at eye level. Amber swayed her head back and looked at me playfully, while fumbling her key into the keyhole in the process. With a mumbled click, the door swayed open, revealing a compartment of similar decor and cleanliness as the hallway we were in. While I was eyeing the space, we were already inside Miss Amber's boudoir.
"Just leave it on the counter." she recited as we walked further inside. The room's layout was more like a hostel than a lady's suite. A simple queen-sized bed which took most of the room's space; a medium-sized window half covered with curtain, looking through the neon signs to the other tenements across a narrow road; and a kitchen counter standing in front of the main door were pretty much it. Miss Amber went through a door to the lavatory while I was getting accustomed to the unadorned chamber.
I dropped 200 bits onto the counter, slipped out of my trench coat and stretched my hooves in front of the bed, imagining what I'd be doing for the rest of the night. I watched the bed while my mind was already playing sounds of it squeaking and us the two ponies moaning out our carnal desires. The image of Miss Amber's soft pink fur reflecting the colored lights from the neon sign as I plundered my stallionhood into her mare canal, pumping in rhythm to juice out lustful moans from the pegasus, made my sheath twitched in anticipation. I'd rock my rod hard and deep inside her foal maker, banging her cervix again and again, forcing her to squeal and writhe in agony and sexual pleasure…
Just like Dew Drop.
Miss Amber got out of the lavatory and stood by the door with a pair of concupiscent eyes. She has removed her pink corset and dress, and was only wearing her set of lingerie socks, which fit tightly along her hooves and along her body curves. She peeped at the counter and the bits on them, then looked at me with a dry smile.
"What keeps you inside your clothes still?" she cooed.
"Well I'd like to leave the honor to you, of course."
She walked gradually to my front, then looked at me with the most sincere and rheumy eyes this evening, while brushing my mane gently with her hooves. Her hooves gradually travelled downwards and towards my chest, over the collar of my sky blue shirt and onto the knot of my indigo tie. She fumbled awhile and unknoted the cloth, then gently slid it away from my chest. She licked her lips and rested her hooves on my pectoral girdle, delicately unbuttoning my shirt one button at a time. As her hooves travelled lower and lower, as more and more of my chest fur was revealed, her face blushed redder and redder. Although Amber must have much experience in treating a stallion's body, her timidness and fragility still made her look novice in this business. Yet, it was her timidness and fragility that attracted me the most — an innocent mare, even if it's just her spirit left that was innocent — to be able to rut and deplore her fragile body made me twitch in anticipation.
As the last button was undone, she tucked the shirt and pulled it off me. Staring at my indigo chest inches from it, she blushed. She then circled her hooves on my shoulder and looked at me with her playful eyes, wearing a flirtatious grin on her face. But business was business, and we had so little time. I nudged her head down and pushed it towards my stomach. As if on cue, she understood my intention and graced herself forward, approaching the sheath located between my hind legs. The tip of my penis was prodding its way out, but nonetheless it wasn't at all erect. This didn't get untreated for long however, as Amber took the matter to her tongue.
She gave a tentative lick to the tip of my delicate organ, eliciting a soft groan from me. She gave another lick to it, this time slower and gentler, savoring my pheromones on the prod. I could sense my cock growing larger at each lick she gave, and as my ring of flesh went pass my sheath, she began to lick from the tip all the way to the base of my penis. I groan in pleasure as she delicately brushed along my sensitive skin with her agile tongue, giving small squirms of reflexes from the sensation. From my point of view, I could see her lower back and her tail, which was gently flicking in front of my eyes. She wriggled a little and inched further, moving her entire body further down. What I instantly felt was a tunnel of moist and warm flesh rubbing down my shaft. I gave an audiable sigh as my carnal crave was relinquished at the very instant. I looked at the end of her spine while I enjoyed the sensation of her wet muzzle sliding up and down my prod, sucking it delicately, and occasionally giving it an extra care with her tongue.
Her tail flickered less when she unexpectedly lunged forward, gulping my entire 20 inch into her mouth. Or, at least she tried. Her epiglottis was blocking my insertion half way.
Of course I had more than she could swallow.
She gagged a little, but continued her tending my prod anyway. I wish she could take it all in though, I loved the idea of feeding a mare with my genital and blocking her breath. The dominance and the filly's writhing motions always excited me. However, at such a low rate I paid and the fact that her timidness made up for her inability, I wasn't going to linger on this matter.
Nevertheless, she made up by fondling my jewels with her hoof. Her gentle massages were very soothing and enticing, which made her blowjob more effective on my libido. However, when she returned to her regular sucking and licking, I couldn't help but noticed her cutie mark.
It was a jade bracelet.
So similar to Dew Drop's…
I did wonder, what was her special talent? How did she end up with this line of work? And why was her cutie mark so similar to… I was curious now. I… I touched her cutie mark with my spare hoof while she continued to suckle and throb at my cock. I traced the outlines and details of the picture on her smooth, curvy flank, admiring and involuntarily comparing it to my memories. Such a beautiful shades of green. It only belongs to the most beautiful mare…
My prod left her warm oral embrace for a slight moment, signaled by the tingling breeze on my wet penis. She cupped my jewels as she took her momentary break, and said.
"What attracts you back there?" she asked in a playful, curious tone.
"I… I was admiring your cutie mark. It's beautiful."
She was still for fraction of a second.
"Well, thank you Mr. Neon. Usually… others'd just bite it, spit on it and call me a slut." she returned to her usual licking and sucking, but this time softer and shallower to maintain conversation.
I did feel sorry for her. Even though I was here to pay her for sex, I was still a pony with senses.
"That's harsh."
"That's life."
She gave a last long lick along my shaft and climbed away from under my belly. She stood in front of me, licking her lips as to savor my scent, then rested her hooves on my shoulders, eyeing me with an arch smile.
"C'est la vie."
"I didn't know you can speak fancy." I nuzzled her mane and nudged her towards the bed.
"Well, I need to cater foreign ponies some times, don't I?" She smiled and moved towards the bedside, holding my shoulders.
I grabbed her and pushed her onto the mattress coarsely, then flopped her up towards the bed rest. She was laying on her back under me, wings spread out unintentionally, and a bit surprised.
"Oh Mr. Neon, what do you have in mind?"
"A lot of things." I answered while I rub myself up and down her body desperately, trying to savor the feelings of her soft pink fur on mine as much as possible. "I need you."
She didn't answer, but she moaned helplessly as I rubbed her fragile body unrelentingly. She struggled but did not push me away, only writhing under me as I boldly pressed myself onto her soft chest and belly, salvaging every piece of her flesh with my hooves. I desperately kissed her cheek and muzzle, smooching her beautiful face as much as I could.
I could sense her worry and refusal, but I couldn't stop myself from enjoying every part of her. I paid for the right to fuck her, and I hadn't broken any rules. Her struggle has lessen, but the faintest stiffness of her cautious body has been blocking my advance.
To diplomat out of the situation, I offered a gesture of good will by slowing my exploration. I wasn't here to hurt you filly, I just need your body. I shifted my concern from my own pleasure to hers temporarily, gently circling her chest and trying to soothe her mind. I nibbled her neck sensually, tuning down her wariness by pleasuring her fine body.
Mares love being touched, it was like a direct passageway left by the creators towards their pleasure. She wimpered and let out soft moans as my muzzle toured around her soft silk-like fur, enjoying her taste, savoring the gentle breathing motion of her chest and the vital warmth of her body.
Then an idea hit me. I traveled my hooves towards her wings, gently circling the muscles near her scapulars, making her twitch in aching joy under my sensual touches. And right when I hit one soft patch of skin, she instantly jolted and yelped helplessly. I've found the special sensitive point at the wing base of every pegasus.
By the time I was done exploiting her weakness as a pegasus, she was already glowing in lust. She was panting and sweating, and looking at me with a pair of half open, lascivious eyes.
I carefully spread open her hind legs. Under the gentle mellow glow of the neon signs, I could see the soft glistering wetness on the folds of her slit. I could see the moistened fur around her labia, coaxing my hard erection to explore the deep cavern of her love canal. The bare flesh of her sex were flushed and ready, just as her mind was ready as she looked at me with pleading eyes.
She wanted me to go further, to take the main course, but she was too shy and ashamed to ask me for it. This was understandable. To feel wrong and humiliated by selling their own sex while feeling great from all the rutting must be some advanced doublethinking.
However, I didn't want to give in so easily. I casually whiffed at the scent of her love juice: a soft acidic smell, with a strangely intoxicating pheromone that was both technically pungent yet decently arousing. Should I opt to give it a taste? Or should I grind it, to make her whimper even more?
I decided, considering my position as I was towering over her, to gently grabbed my hard erection and slowly lowered it onto her glistening sex. She watched my actions with a pair of hazy, pleading eyes as my member delicately landed on her labia. "Rut me, please," her eyes were begging, but I had better plans. I slowly rocked my body front and back with my rod on her cooter, slowly rubbing on top of her sensitive folds. She started to softly moan, and so did I, as my own sensitive shaft once again received sensual stimulation from Miss Amber's fragile, delicate body.
As I raised my speed, so did our rate of moaning. I was panting a little from the unusual rate of exercise, and she was mildly writhing to try and get more action from me. It must be agonizing to be teased this way while she was already aroused. She must have wanted me inside her very bad, wanted me to bring her more pleasure by fucking her hard and deep inside her eager womb. My doing must be so frustrating for her to bear, as Miss Amber confirmed my hypothesis herself.
"Please… Mr. Neon, I… I can't take it anymore… please put it in me…"
"Look me in the eyes and beg for it."
She tried to shift her head and open her hazy eyes at me. She begged softly and embarrassedly.
"Please, I… I want your big, hard cock inside me and fuck me."
So I did. Without a word I reared back and aimed my cock at her vaginal opening, and slammed my entire meat into it.
"Ahh…" she cooed.
It was a completely new sensation. The warm wetness of her inside gave me a dirty, exciting stimulation. Her wall gently pulsated due to reflexes. The sensation of looking at her blissful face and feeling my cock deep inside her body turned me on so much.
I let out a deep growl and started to rock slowly. The feeling of her folded vaginal walls rubbing my rod was even more amazing. As my penis was pulled out with only the tip inside, the cool air breezing my soaked member posted a stark contrast with her warm wet womb, which made me even more eager to fuck her. Each thrust and pull sent jolts of ecstasy through my engorged cock to my entire body. It sparked my urge to rut even faster and harder like a red flag to a raging bull.
So I did. Quickly I picked up my pace. Now I was really fucking her. I growled from the exercise and from the raw excitation flowing through my penis. She was yelping and screaming from all the fast motion, overwhelmed by the steaming senses glowing from her lower parts. I was grunting and sweating from the thrusting, as I was determined to wreck this fragile marehood with all the carnal strength I could possibly conjure. The air was filled with our musk and sexual moans. The bed was squeaking from all our mating motions. And our sweat and bodily fluids glistered under the violet and magenta glow of the neon sign outside.
I could feel a pressure building within me, and so did she, I believe. Her expression was enticing, as she has lost her motor skills with her whole body engulfed by sexual excitement. She couldn't move her muscles, as they were completely locked up by the sexual euphoria coming from my hard, powerful thrusts. She was a true beauty; helpless and fragile, defeated by the power of lust and sexual stimulation, on the verge to defenselessly squirt and cum, and, most of all, basked in the euphoria of sex, my sex. She couldn't help but love and need my fucking to sustain herself. She couldn't, and wouldn't have me stopped now.
Just like Dew Drop.
Oh Dew Drop…
I growled and grunted. I rocked my pelvis as hard and fast as I could get. The distinctive slaps of our body colliding echoed around the room. She was having too much to be able to scream anymore, as her muzzle was stuck agape, eyes staring at nowhere. I gripped her shoulder hard and wrecked her cunt with my cock while moaning out loud. My horn was involuntarily sparkling with a sky blue color; as her wings were fully stretched. Everything was a blur. Nothing mattered but the tight spasms of her vagina begging for my huge hot load of cum. I could feel the euphoria within my penis. I closed my eyes. I screamed.
Dew Drop!
I transcended into a different level of sensation as my sexual pleasure was released in a powerful orgasm. Like being on a roller coaster I could not cry or comprehend but to feel the euphoria of shooting and plumeting through pleasure and sensation. Loads after loads of thick, boiling cum shot from my penis deep into her squeezing, pulsating womb. My pleasure was released as pulse after pulse of her contractions coaxed my delecate organ to spray batch after batch of my essence into the mare underneath me. I could not sense anything else in the world but the spirit and life flooding through our connected sex. For a whole minute I could only bask in the pleasure and beauty of our orgasms together. For a whole minute I came, pulsating inside her womb.
I lay myself next to her, cuddling her tightly. My penis was still inside her sex, while the excessive semen has overflowed and smeared onto our privates. I could smell the pungent musk of my seed inside her, filling her, within her, feel the steadying breathes of her afterglow, and see the relieve and fragile bliss on her face. The neon lights casted a blue-violet shade over our intertwined bodies as we coupled for the longest of time, motionless, basking in the afterglow and the company of each other.
Sometimes later, I sat up. I looked at her curling up and the smear between her thighs. Her tail gently flickered, and I gave her and her beauty one last look and smile. I stood up and went to grab my coat and belongings, before turning my head away and saying my farewell.
"Thanks, Miss Amber. You were lovely."
Without paying much attention to her reply, I set my way for departure. I opened the door and gave a slight pause, before walking out and closing it behind.
The deed was done. My pain was mended. My lust was satisfied.
I walked down the wooden stairs and passed by the counter. The stallion gave me the same stern look as I walked pass him. But I didn't give him much thought. I opened the door and walked back into the city again.
The world was still in its slumber. The night breeze was still strong. The neon lights still cast an unforgiving shade to the environment, but it's unmistakable that the blue hue of dawn was gradually seeping through the city. I followed the alleyway into the driveway. It was 5 in the morning. I was tired, but I have some work to finish. So I set my destination and pulled up my collar, and walked towards the sunrise.
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.
Author's Note
If you were confused, the story is told from the perspectives of four different ponies. Night Rhyme is our third protagonist who doesn't know Neon and Copal yet (the ponies from last two chapters). This is why this chapter feels separated from the previous ones.
3: Mirrors
Chapter 3
Mirrors
Contains Gender Transformation, Male Masturbation, Minor humiliation, tucking/pseudo-gelding
"Two pancakes with hay brown patty coming up!"
"Got it!" I answered as I waved through the narrow paths towards the kitchen counter.
"For table four", the chef said over the counter. I nodded and carried the food with my magic and headed for the table.
Sitting at the booth were two stallions in suits on each side. The one in black suit had a streaky blue-black mane and a grey face, and probably in his early thirties. The one in striped brown suit has a fedora on his head and a khaki middle-age spread. They were talking, and judging by their attire I would assume they were talking about business.
"…be awful but lucrative. Win-win." The one with fedora smirked, but stopped as I stood by the table.
"Morning gentlecolts," I said with a charming smile while putting the food in front of them. "Home-made pancakes with hay brown patty for you two… and one cup of coffee."
"Mhmm thank you my filly," The stallion said with a rascal smile, "You have a pretty face my foal. Tell me, what's your name?"
I tried to keep my smile and composure as I looked at both of them. The other stallion stared at me with a deadpan expression. To be a hospitable waitress, I tried to reply.
"Thank you, sir. You can call me Night Rhyme." I added, "What about you?"
He exploded in laughter and guffawed obnoxiously. "What about me? My my young filly, you'd probably be scared if I tell you my name! But, if you like you can always call me your 'big daddy'! Heh!"
I chuckled a little in order to end the conversation with this creep. But before I could turn around and head for another order, he spoke again.
"Wait a minute, have I seen you before?"
I looked back at him, confused. "I don't think so?"
He stared into my eyes for a moment.
"Hmm… you looked familiar. That's all."
I observed their appearances once again and check if I have met them before. While nothing came up to my mind, I felt like I should have known them somewhere.
Other than that, there was nothing peculiar about them, except for the grey stallion staring at me throughout the conversation. I turned away before the situation became even more awkward, but then…
But then, I felt it.
No… this is impossible… how?
The world spun around me as I swept my gaze across the diner; anyone could have noticed it. I could feel a burning chill spreading across my body. I saw my boss behind the counter, but he was too busy tending the coffee machine. I turned my head but was met with the grey stallion's staring azure eyes – a gelid blue as chill as burning ice; I could feel its glaring gaze scorching the core of my innermost fear. And his magical aura… it was alien.
Every second the feeling was more prominant. Every second anypony would see. I lowered my head and paced across the diner. I tried to run, but something caught me by my shoulders.
"Hey Rhyme, are you alright? You look… unwell."
No please no please no please no please—
"I… just need the bathroom"
"Oh alright. Hey don't stress yourself out, your… voice seems off."
I left my boss alone and rushed into the staffroom. I yanked my saddle off the hook and ransacked it desperately for my vial, while sweat dripped from my face into my vision. Once I found it I seized the tube with telekinesis and galloped towards the restroom. Cold sweat and tears was dribbling down my face. They'd have seen it all. They'd have known. I looked pathetic…
I hid and locked myself in the small fillies room at the back of the diner. Finally, I was safe. But I was filled with shame and humiliation too. I sniveled in grave embarrassment as I sat on the stool and examined the damage. I looked at my body as I cried a little outside and inside.
Just as I felt, a small sheath has formed between my legs. In it, what was once my clitoris has turned into a small flaccid shaft. My vulva tingled as it vibrated and shifted. My abdomen twisted and churned. The two teats above my nether has shrunk into my body. My fur was turning from teal to sea green as I continued to morph.
The numb then evolved into crushing pain as every bones and muscles shifted their position. I held my scream as my muzzle pulled and transformed, and as my scalp stretched and translocated my mane into a new shape.
Then I lifted my head. Across the small damp restroom was my reflection in the mirror. It was tinted and intensified by the only spotlight above, but the shape of myself sitting on the stool with legs wide spread could be clearly seen. The strong flaxen light shone directly onto my nether region, highlighting the undeniable organ in between.
I saw myself, the young colt I was.
I was mortified to think somepony may caught my secret just then. I was confused as to why I shifted so soon. Was it the formula? Was it me? Was it the grey stallion? His eyes… I shivered.
I gave another look at my body and sighed.
I reluctantly lifted my hoof and touched the sheath on my crotch. My senses have changed and the skin felt different, as if I had new body parts. What was once the upper part of my slit has turned into a cock sheath that only stallions would have. And in it was an olive green, unerected cock tucked shyly under the flaps of skin, silently waiting, pulsing, wishing to be used.
It was mine, I remembered well; my colthood, tucked away with unspeakable magic, hidden and morphed by arcane spells, transformed into my marehood through my own device.
It was mine. I remembered well; its texture, its size, its color, its veins and ring; and every touches I felt with it when I was a colt – every stroke, every tingle, every rub I have applied onto it. It had intrigued me. It had confused me. Every quiet nights in my younger years, when mom and dad was asleep, when I was alone in my bed at dark, I would inquisitively fondle the soft meaty flesh that, as well, inquisitively poked out of its prepuce. As I ran my hoof softly along the young sensitive meat, as I watched the small but eager shaft bulged and stiffen, the caressing gave me an elated sensation that I loved and enjoyed.
Yet, it baffled me to the same extent. Touching my colthood was erotic, but it made me felt miserable at the same time. As if, it didn't belong. As if, it should've been something else. Every touch and caressing of my colthood gave me unfathomable joy and bliss, but it made me equally dejected and upset at the same time. Sex was not something for the young colt I was in the first place, but it felt dreadful nonetheless. The more I couldn't enjoy the euphoic pulses and dry spasms as I reached my juvenile climax, the more I was downed by the sight of my prod and the social role attached, and the more I detested by body.
I traced my hoof from the tip of my slightly protruding cock to the smooth flat area where my testes should be. What was once my slit has completely fused into a smooth flat skin underneath my sheath to the sphincter. I knew where they were, those oval precious, burried deep within my abdomen; they had yet to drop from my inside to a degenerated pouch. The sight of my empty purse felt horribly wrong, yet fervidly arousing; as if my jewels were removed from the picture, and what remains was a continuous skin underneath my cock. I never understood this gelding eroticism, but it had always amused me nonetheless. And that, too, added to the shame and humiliation I was feeling. I blushed.
I gently and carefully brushed the tip of my curious cock with my hoof, trying to coax it out of its protective pouch. I was excited to give myself sexual pleasure, but I sighed as I knew why I need to rub myself off. I quickly downed the vial of transformation potion and waited for its effect. The method I used to achieve my self-mutilation was as sickening as the grievous truth of my identity – I must fondle and treat my colthood after each transformation cycle before I could return to my ideal form again; I must squirt out my seed before this vial could make me transform.
My colthood protruded more and more as I caressed my prepuce. Tucked away and never used, it struggled to stretch itself into its full form. I watched intently as my shaft bulged from a pudgy floppy meat to a shy shaft trying to stand on his own. My cock was small and not as hard, since it was denied growth and colt hormones, but it was functional nonetheless. I shifted my tending to the veiny shaft itself, examining the tender flesh holding up my phallus. I let out an involuntary sigh as my touch forced an enticing elation through my body. More, I begged, but more was the guilt it gave to me.
My cock tingled and twitched as I continued to run my hoof up and down the shaft. I softly panted as the pressure built inside me, urging me to stroke my penis even more. I looked at my olive green phallus, gazed at the petite urethra on my flare tip, and glanced at the perpetual ring circling my girth. I blushed at the sight of my penis which I had been dying to get rid of. I blushed even harder as it bounced in my hoof due to its meatiness and mild flaccidity. It was obscene and abnormal to me, but at the same time, it was excessively arousing as the little meaty flesh bounced between my legs. I stroked harder on my cock and moaned a little more.
My unwanted sex caught my attention again as the testes finally dropped from its abdominal cavity to the loose skin beneath my cock. I could feel the tightness underneath my sheath, as my jewels forced themselves into the tight pouch unwelcoming to the two potent balls. I winced at the pressure on my sensitive degenerates, as they echoed a mild pain of pressure into my abdomen. I traced my hoof on my scrotum, feeling the small firm nubs inside. I whimpered at the sensation felt from my sensitive skin and the mildly nauseating feeling from the pressure. It hurt when I touch and fondle the sensitive jewels, and it strained me to feel them dangling between my hind legs. I pushed them inwards and upwards towards the inguinal canal, and they obediently popped back into the base of my penis. I ran my hoof along the flappy yet empty scrotum and shivered physically and mentally. I looked at the wrinkled, deflated skin where my jewels were supposed to dangle, and my cock twitched again.
I moaned softly and traced my other hoof along my chest. What was once a curvy, busty body was now angular and muscular. The contour, complexion and the disposition of muscles and fat conformed to the shape I once was. I leaned back against the toilet seat and closed my eyes, gently grazing my hoof from my stomach to my chest. I saw myself looking at the mirror when I was young, staring at my body as I grew into a young stallion. I felt shameful and confused and I couldn't understand why I felt unhappy. I frowned and shivered as the young colt grew older in front of me, laying on his bed and closing his eyes, grazing his hooves along his soft, sensitive fur as I was now, and we both shiver in excitement as we imagine the curves and soft coat we always wanted on our body. We would trace our hooves along our teats, hoping they would develop and grow just as other fillies would. We would pant and whimper on the bed like a filly, and clamping onto our tucked shaft with our hind legs and squirm our body with bliss. We would drown myself in the imagination of feeling like a mare, and we felt happier, forgetting for a short period of time the sorrow we carry each day.
I moaned and whimpered even more as these thoughts brought me closer to joy. A pressure grew greater and greater inside me. I could feel it, this unknown force, pushing harder and stronger against the base of my shaft. I blushed and stroke harder, bowing down to the idea of releasing myself. I cringed and begged for more, giving in to my bodily urge of coming white seed in an orgasmic release. It hurts to see or think of myself shooting out semen out of my stallion pole, and I crave for the blissful euphoria of pure internal orgasm only mares could experience. But I am too weak for my own body, helpless in changing it, and wanted more for the lustful bliss of masturbation and ejaculating through my twitching ready shaft. I knew I am close. I knew I wanted to come. I moaned.
I stroke my shaft with unfathomable speed. I leaned against the backseat and cringed as I felt the pressure bubbling towards the surface. The muscles in my legs and body tensed as I yearned for my inevitable release. I looked upwards with my eyes closed, anticipating for the coming euphoria. I squeezed my thighs together as my body ached from the anticipation. I rubbed and pressed and squeezed my penis to make myself come. I was close. My mind was blank. I wanted to come.
I whimpered in ecstasy as I hit the point of no return. I grasp at my penis as it shot loads after loads of warm white seed into the air and onto my chest. I held onto my shaft as it pulsated, wincing as the orgasm washed through every sensory cells in my body. My mind was flooded with an innate bliss and drowned in the urge for more. I whinnied at the erotic display as my white, viscous cum keep helplessly squirting out of my urethra and scattered on my abdomen and chest. The salty pungent smell thickened in the air, as the semen on my fur emanated the meager amount of male hormones and proteins once left in my body. My hoof was smeared with cum. My fur was drowned in cum. My shaft shrank and limped onto the pool of fluids on my abdomen while it was still leaking. I leaned back and watched my orgasmic display as the ecstasy died down. After the innate craving for sexual release stopped taking over, my feelings plummeted to rock bottom as I processed what I have done. I looked at the mess all over my body, the mess created by this revolting cock and balls of mine. I hate to see them. I hate to see my own cum. I hate to see myself…
To what extent must I hate my body and myself? To what extent must I torment myself? To what extent must I keep up this lie to me and to others? I am a stallion, and no amount of arcane spells or exotic potions in Equestria could change this fact. I was just merely masking and shapeshifting an irrefutable truth about myself.
And what was the point? Why couldn't I just accept the fact that I'm a colt and forever will be? All the time when I would cry miserably in bed I was scared and confused. All the time when there was no one I could talk to about my fears I was alone. All the time when I played with my friends in school I felt fake. Suck it up, ponies often say, perhaps I should suck it up as well. I always wondered if others felt the same, living in constant fear that someone would despise them for what they really were. My life has never been normal, and this… filly inside me… was like an unsatisfiable beast that threatened to turn my world upside down every day. Not that my life wasn't upside down already when I ran away from home with anger and guilt, I… I just wish to be normal, to like normal things, to be spared from all these self-hatred and confusion, and just be daddy's big colt again. But, I decided to drain my life away, like the semen that was dripping into the toilet seat. I decided to throw my life, my family, and my dreams away to pursue some nonsense feelings of becoming the opposite sex, to chase after something that can never be achieved.
My cock has retrieved back into its sheath and became quiet. The semen on my coat has started to dry; my hoof was still sticky and feeling awful. As I wait for the potion to kick in, I leaned back against the toilet and closed my eyes as they started to water. I came to realize, I was a liar, a pervert who masturbate in the workspace, a freak who dressed as a filly in public, and a failure who gave up his dreams in pursuit of a poisonous wish. I hated my father but I missed him now… I would die to see my mother one more time… even when I was still covered in cum — but I bet they'd rather see me in cum than in a dress. No. They would not want to see me at all.
A crushing pain spread through my body as every bones and muscles shifted their position again. It burned so excruciatingly, but I couldn't feel it anymore. I scrunched my face in agony is my muzzle pulled and transformed, and my scalp stretched and translocated my mane. My fur shivered and faded from sea green to teal again, and the two nubs above my degenerate started to regrow. My stomach twisted and churned as the organs transformed themselves. My testes shuddered and retracted into my body, morphing into a pair of dysfunctional ovaries. The sheath and scrotum shrank and tightened, then even my penis withered and shrank, while the skin beneath tore up to form the vulva. A second later, my penis has disappeared into my labia and became a clitoris, and the skins have folded and flushed themselves to form a marehood just like any other mares.
I looked at the mirror again. Under the yellow spotlight, I could see the curves and contours of a teal-coated mare. I was Night Rhyme again, who I really was inside my heart, but was also a liar deceiving everypony and even myself. I grinned ever so slightly as I see a lovely, smooth slit where my rod just was, but I stopped as I saw the stain of my semen covering my teats and coat. If they were my dream stallion's, perhaps I would blush — and perhaps if it was me from a time paradox, it could be kinky and fun — but the current sight did not amuse me, and I felt even worse thinking about cleaning them. I whinnied and sighed, conjuring magical forces to scrub the stain away. It wasn't hard — I knew as I have done it before, but it would take time and remind me what I am under this elaborate façade.
A couple minutes later, I flushed the toilet without daring to look at the cum inside. I lifted the vial again with magic and check my appearance in the mirror again. There should be no clues or evidence of what I have done, but I must make sure.
I walked out of the fillies room timidly and tiptoed into the staffroom. While no one should see me currently, my heart was filled with embarrassment as I literally just clopped in a publicly accessible diner. I was turning the knob on the staffroom door when something tapped my shoulder again.
"Hey Nighty you alright—"
"Gah! I… I'm fine Flute, my stomach ached badly just now."
"Oh I see, take care of yourself ok? Why don't you take a break and continue work when you're ready? I can manage the floor."
"Alright, thanks."
My boss smiled and returned to the dining area. I watched him go and decided to check on one more thing. I peaked my head so I could just see the tables and customers, and I looked at table four. I need to know who that grey stallion was. But, as I presumed, they were already gone…
I thought to myself for a moment, then I went into the staffroom and rest.
