Rarity: Learning One's Worth
(All characters in this piece are above the age of 21)
“Spare a cock for a hungry mare? Please, Sir, spare a cock for a hungry mare?”
Rarity didn’t mind being in the stocks per se, but the hard wood was chafing her wrists and digging her red collar into her neck. Also, having to stand bent over with her ass up for hours on end was making her legs hurt. Her knees wobbled, threatening to give out from exhaustion, but she dared not let them give out. Failing to “present” for an approaching male would result in a severe caning, and what with no way to look behind her, she had no way of knowing if she needed to be “at attention” at any point in time.
“Please sir, spare a cock for a hungry mare?”
She licked her lips and looked longingly at the various caribou and stallions milling around her, but they paid her no more attention than a fence post. The Fall had been particularly hard on Rarity -- she had thought that by collaborating, giving up her horn willingly and volunteering to design uniforms, she could carve herself a fine, if servile, position in high caribou society. However the caribou found her designs primitive and much too equine in nature, punishing her failure with several months hard labor at a dirt farm. The experience had left Rarity broken, and while her red collar was never replaced with a purple one, she was too broken to be even a semblance of her former self.
“You don’t have a mare, sir, why don’t you use me for a bit? I’m public property, you don’t even have to pay.”
Once one of the most desirable mares in all of ponyville, Rarity was now even less desirable than most of the black collars. Her beauty was long gone, replaced by poorly shorn hair and innumerable scars across her back, plot and thighs. She had been branded several times before being dumped on the state, resulting in her nominal ownership by Shining Armor. Almost all of the publically owned mares were under Shining’s “charity,” although this meant little more than a guaranteed cage and bowl of kibble each time she was taken in for the evening. She was given enough food and water to keep her working, enough medical attention to keep her from getting sick or pregnant, but scarce little else. She was turned out each morning with instructions to find work and orders to return by nightfall. Today her “job” was to man the stockade in front of Rich’s Mare-Gear Emporium, her body taking the place of a mare who was sick, foaling, or just needed elsewhere.
“So I tell him, ‘forget about that mare, dude. Settle down with a nice caribou wife and just throw away your toys. They’re too much trouble anyway and you can just pick one up off the street when you need her and throw her back when you’re done.”
The voice was coming behind Rarity, the commanding accent letting her know it was an adult caribou. She winced, preparing herself for the inevitable invasion of her sex. It was rough and sudden, with no more concern for her than the caribou might give a public sink or toilet. He was just dumping a load in her as he went about his day, not even pausing in his conversation as he grabbed Rarity’s tail and shoved his length into the hilt.
“I get what you mean, but still. Keeping a mare around the house is fun, and it makes sure your girl doesn’t have to worry about all the hard stuff. I pulled one out of the trash cans last week, and my girl hasn’t had to lift a finger to clean the place. Plus it’s not like a mare can turn me down when I wanna get rough or kinky.”
The caribou’s companion was in front of her now, his pants pulled down, his shaft inches from Rarity’s muzzle. She took it into her mouth greedily, eager to please these two males. A piece of public property like her could be claimed by anyone for a nominal fee -- it was more expensive to get a hayburger than it was a mare these days. Several of the mares she had been rooming with had been picked up in recent days, grabbed by bored husbands, single males in their twenties and proprietors in need of “help.” She had heard rumors of large cages, extra large bowls of kibble, and most extravagant of all, brushes and baths for the fur and hair. Rarity longed to curl and style her locks again, as well as carefully brush and manage her fur until the worst of her scars were hidden. She longed to be beautiful again, even if it was just so that she could become some pretty plaything for some bored stallion somewhere.
“Yeah, but you have to feed it and clean it and if you don’t the public property guys will show up and whisk her away and fine you to pay for her care. I just don’t need that kind of hassle. Besides, my girl likes housework, and is better at it than any stupid mare. She knows how I like it and doesn’t give me any lip.”
The caribou pushing into Rarity’s rear had clearly been pent up for some time -- whatever his defense of this caribou he had at home, she clearly didn’t drain his cock the way a mare was expected to. She squeezed down on him, trying to get her cunt fluttering around him. The sensation of a cock up her snatch sent waves of pleasure up her spine, encouraging her to push harder. She jammed herself back against the caribou as best she could, trying to let him know she was enthusiastic. That she was a good fuck. That she was worth something, and that he should remember her.
“You just got burned by that black collar, dude. I told her not to buy her, but you were all ‘she’s hot and that’s all that matters!’ I told you, it’s red collar all the way.”
The caribou in front was becoming insistent, pushing his length in till his balls pressed down on Rarity’s chin, making her gag hard. She began to choke, her body unused to throating despite all her efforts to train. She squeezed her palms hard, pulling against the stockade and struggling to push against her gag reflex. Vomiting cum up all over a male was certain to get her a severe beating, something she had learned the hard way back on the dirt farm. She was thankful when the male pulled back to unload himself across her tongue. She gulped it down hard, panting and blowing hot air out of her nostrils as he pulled out. The caribou wiped himself off on her cheeks then pushed his length back into his pants, not even looking down into Rarity’s sad, pleading eyes.
“Fuck you, she was hot and I got to beat the shit out of her. By the time they took her away I was fuckin’ done with her anyway.”
The caribou in the rear was having trouble finishing, causing him to jam and thrust with more frustration than lust. Rarity tried to help, pushing back as best she could, whimpering and squeezing down on him. She tried bringing her legs together, then spreading them apart again, trying to find the right tightness or looseness to help him get off. She pushed back against him, thrusting and grinding and trying to do his work for him. Nothing seemed to help.
“Jeez dude, shit or get off the pot. We got places to go, you know. We’re gonna be late as it is.”
“This is your fuckin’ fault, you know. You talk all that shit about your nice girl and that dumb black collar and now I can’t get in the mood.”
“Maybe you just prefer males. You know, there are some guys down by the docks who would love to dress you up as a mare and pass you around like one.”
“Okay, enough of this shit. I know how to push my own button and I don’t need any of your own bullshit to get off.” The caribou reached down with his hand, grabbing Rarity’s ear between his forefinger and thumb.
“Dude, don’t do that, you’re gonna cause a scene.”
Rarity screamed out in pain. She had had her ear torqued before -- it was a common enough punishment to quickly bring a mare into line. But she’d never had her ears pulled by a male just because he could. The shock amplified the pain, mixing with terror and wiping away the pleasure that had previously been flowing from her loins. She bucked against her restraints, trying to turn her head, free her hands, anything to get away.
“And if I do, so what? It anyone asks, this bitch talked back, and I’m just putting her in her place. It’s not like she’s gonna tell the guards anything. And you aren’t gonna fink on a friend are you?”
As the caribou let go of her ear, Rarity struggled to regain her composure, trying to go back to the dumb, emotionless fuck-toy that she had been not twenty minutes earlier. This would end soon enough. The male would get off, and then leave, and she could have a good cry about what happened before the next male wandered over. Rarity tried to drown it all out and focus on the fact that it would be over soon, but the caribou’s hands, and soon his fists, prevented her wishful thinking from taking hold. He was spanking her back, plot and thighs at first, then genuinely beating them, driving his fist down on her again and again. Old bruises ached fresh, joined by new ones which grew like fleshy roses against her dirty white fur.
“Dude, the guards are fuckin’ coming, man. I’m not lying to them for you, dude.”
“Please, help me!” Rarity pleaded, trying to make eye contact with the caribou in front of her. If he’d just see how much pain she was in. He was clearly the sort that, for all his cruelty, still followed the rules. He was no sadist like the one in her cunt. If he just saw how much pain she was in, he would know that things had gone too far. His love of law and order would be offended, and he would rescue her. Maybe even take her back to his place, and have her lick the floors clean or scrub the toilets with a face brush. Anything was better than this.
“Shut up bitch!”
The awkward angle kept the caribou from putting the proper force into his punch, but still, the blow sent Rarity’s head spinning. Her right eye began to ache terribly, swelling shut in a matter of moments. Though her one good eye could hardly tell what was going on around her. The caribou had pulled out after delivering the punch, it seemed, but the guards were here as well. Were they here to question the caribou, or had she done something wrong? She could tell by the cum dribbling out of her cunt that the caribou had finished, but she couldn’t remember feeling it. Had she been unconscious? Or had the pain just left her dazed and confused? She looked around, trying to find any of the vaguely remembered crotches that had been there just a few minutes ago. There was nothing. Nothing but the various hustle and bustle of males and their enslaved mares going about their day, not even looking in Rarity’s direction.
Rarity closed her eyes and sobbed. Was she really this worthless? Really this unimportant? All she wanted was to be a good red collar for some male, somewhere. Why couldn’t she make that happen?
***
Rarity yawned, blinking a bit as she stared out down the now-empty street with her one good eye. The other was black and swollen now, the flesh puffing up from the bad hit she’d taken earlier today. One of Shining Armor’s “caretakers” would be by to pick her up and charge Filthy Rich for the day rental any moment now. Soon she would be back in her cage with a fresh bowl of water and enough mare chow to make her stomach stop rumbling. It might even be something other than dirt flavored this time. After all, she had been a good bitch today, hadn’t she?
“C’mon, Twilight. We need to pick up that new box of ring gags before the store closes.”
Rarity lit up at the sound of the voice. “Spike? Spike! Is that you! Oh Spikey-Wikey, it’s your Rarity!” She positively bounced within the limits of her restraint, her one un-swollen eye opening wide with delight at the familiar scales. Since the fall he had bulked up considerably as well. Ever since he had turned twenty, his muscles had only grown larger, and he now had the sort of strength and power that projected his dominant position.
Spike jumped, startled by the voice. As he bent down to look into Rarity’s face, he twisted his muzzle and turned his face this way and that, rubbing his chin. “Rarity? Is that really you?”
“Oh Spikey-Wikey, just look what happened to me!” Turning back on her old tricks, she laid on the tears, sticking out her lips in her most pathetic pout. “I’m a good mare, really I am! But some mean caribou beat me up and now I’m all hideous! Please, Spikey-Wikey, take me home and make me yours! I promise I’ll be a good mare for you!”
“I dunno. I have so many mares already. And I’m not sure I want a mare who talks without being spoken to. I should give you a beating for calling me out by name like you did.” Spike tugged on a leash, pulling Twilight out from behind him. She was crawling on all fours, her hands, knees and shins coated in mud from the road. “What do you think, slut?”
Twilight grinned. “I’m a stupid mare cunt! I’m not supposed to think.”
Spike smirked, running his claws through Twilight’s mane. “See what I mean, Rarity? Twilight is the perfect red collar. Completely obedient. Fully understanding of what a worthless cunt she is. I can even use her as both an example and teacher to the others. What can you do?”
“I can suck your dick!” Rarity was getting desperate now. How could Spike not want her? All those years of longing looks, bashful kisses and meaningful hand-holding. Sure, they never consummated their relationship, and Rarity probably did take advantage of Spike from time to time. But he must have known she did care for him on some level, right? She just didn’t care for him in that way. At least, not back then. Now though -- what else could she offer? “Please Spike. I know you’ve always wanted me. Take me. Right here, right now, on the street. Get what you’ve always wanted. What you’ve always deserved. Then I just know you’ll want to take me home, and make me yours.”
Spike scratched his chin a bit, then turned to Twilight. “Go inside and tell Mr. Rich I have some business outside, and then let him rape your face and piss down your throat as compensation for having to wait. I don’t think this should take long."
Twilight bounded off, crawling up the stairs eagerly and pausing only to wipe her muddy hands and legs off on the provided mare-mat. Her collar jingled as she went, her ass bouncing, her tits jiggling. Moments later, even through the closed door, it was possible to her Rich enjoying her work.
Rarity gulped. How could she hope to compete with such a mare? Though she was definitely willing, she could hardly be called skilled. And even if she was skilled, how could she hope to compete with the depraved enthusiasm exhibited by Twilight? Still, she had to try. Spike had said he kept many mares, maybe his standards weren’t that high. Besides, the relationship they had before The Fall had to count for something, didn’t it?
Rarity opened her mouth and extended her tongue, doing her best to slobber and look eager. On some level she did indeed want to such Spike’s cock, at the very least she was a lot more interested in it than the ones she’d serviced earlier today. She struggled to ignore how rough he was in pushing it in, figuring that he was used to mares like Twilight who wanted it to hurt. If she put up with it now, she could get him to stop doing it later. She’d always been able to get what she wanted out of him, all that needed changing was the amount of patience she had used.
As Spike started to grind and push, Rarity straightened out her mouth and throat, making a smooth passage for his enormous reptilian length. It hurt, taking so much cock in her face at once, but Rarity didn’t show a single ounce of resistance. She was a good mare, and she wanted Spike to know that. With nothing but her one good eye, she hoped to express how much she appreciated his use of her, how much she wanted to come home with him and do this as often as he wanted.
When Spike shifted from jamming to thrusting, she began to put her lips and tongue to work. She sucked as hard as she could, squeezing in her cheeks and pulling on the air with her nose to increase the vacuum. She tried to remember tips she’d picked up from the public cages -- wrapping her lips over her teeth, trilling her tongue along the underside, licking and nibbling lightly at the tip as it passed. She pulled out all the stops, desperate to make Spike understand that she was worth keeping.
When Spike released his load, she swallowed on it greedily, sucking and slurping it down her throat. With most males she might let her jaw go slack, letting it drip out on the ground if they weren’t bothering to see if she swallowed. In truth she had never developed a taste for it, finding the texture and flavor disgusting. Spike didn’t need to know that though. She could plead for him to let her spit instead of swallow after she’d been allowed to move in and prove what a good, compliant mare she was. She batted her eyelashes and licked her lips, smiling up at Spike. “Mmm, that was delicious, Sir. Did you enjoy this mare’s worthless mouth?”
“Eh, it was okay.” Spike yawned a bit, stretching and moving to pull his pants back up. “To be honest, even Rainbow Dash gave me a better blowjob. And she’s a black collar -- I had to put a ring gag in her just to keep her from shutting her stupid whore mouth.”
Rarity blanched, unable to hide her disappointment. She had done her best just now -- how could Rainbow Dash, a disgusting black collar, have been any better? This couldn’t be true. Spike had to just be lying to egg her on. This had to be a test. She adjusted herself in her restraints, trying to arch her back and curl back what was left of her tail. “Please sir, my mouth isn’t my best end. Try my plot! I just know that after you’ve plowed it you’ll want to take it home!”
Spike looked at the clock, then back at Rarity. He stared at her plot for a long moment, then moved behind the stocks, lining himself up. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. Besides, Rich won’t want me to interrupt him until he’s totally done with Twilight.”
“You won’t regret it!” Rarity bounced up and down a bit, making her ass jiggle. “Can’t you see how wet I am for you? I need you inside me. Please, you’re doing this stupid mare a favor by fucking her as hard as you can! I’m a good mare, really I am, I just need a big strong male like you to put me in my place!”
“You talk too much, you know that?” Spike grunted as he hilted Rarity in one long, hard thrust. “No wonder no one wants to take you home. Who would want a red collar that doesn’t shut the fuck up unless she’s spoken to?”
Rarity bit her tongue. Somehow this stung even more than the disappointment from before, even more than the pain from her black eye and bruised backside. She could hear no interest at all in Spike’s voice, no vestige of the love and adoration he had showered upon her before. This was a pity-fuck -- he was doing her because he felt sorry for her, because she had asked and because it meant nothing to him. He might as well just be rubbing one out.
It was all she could to to keep from crying. She squeezed him with her snatch, trying to work him, but without the proper enthusiasm she couldn’t do much more than lay there and let him fuck her like a hunk of meat. She pushed back, she bore down, but she was only going through the motions. She already knew that she had failed to meet Spike’s standards, all that was left was to receive the verdict.
Spike kept pounding for a few minutes more before pulling out. Being unable to cum again after having cum so soon wasn’t exactly unusual, but still, it piled hard on Rarity’s disappointment. Even before Spike opened his mouth she began sobbing, unable to take this level of rejection.
“Sorry Rarity. You’re just not anything I need right now. Maybe some other day, when you’ve had more training.”
“Please, Spike.” She knew it was useless, but she couldn’t help but beg. “Please take me home. I’ll undergo any training. I’ll muck out the mare stalls -- with my tongue if need be! There’s nothing I won’t do for you, Spike. Please! Take me home with you, make me your stupid mare cunt! It’s what I was meant for!”
Rich stuck his head out of the door of his store, looking over at Spike. “Ahh Spike, there you are! I’ve got your ring gags right here. No need to pay me right now, I know you’re good for it.” Spike took the box and began to walk down the street, waving goodbye to Rich as the stallion kicked Twilight out through the gap in the door. The broken alicorn seemed to enjoy her rough tumble down the stairs and into the mud, kissing Spike's feet before getting up and trotting along behind him.
“Please! You can’t leave me here like this!” Rarity was inconsolable. He hadn’t even rejected her after careful consideration or evaluation. He probably took longer to decide to throw out spoiled milk or forgo eating a burned pancake. How could he treat her like this, after all the time they had shared together? Had The Fall really changed things that much? Was she really that worthless?”
Rarity hung her head and sobbed, letting the tears fall thick onto the muddy ground below. She knew it was inappropriate for a mare to cry like this, at least out in public when she was “on duty” and expected to be sexy and willing for any mare that might come calling. This sort of total breakdown could result in a beating, or worse, re-assignment to a black collar. But she didn’t care. The de-horning, the brutal training, the dirt farm, the filthy cages, all of these had been horrible but none of them truly humiliating. Under it all she thought that someone still valued her, that some old friend would eventually find her and bring her up in this new life, in this new world. But that wasn’t to be. If Spike and Twilight didn’t value her, then no pony did.
“Jeez, all that sobbing over one black eye. Didn’t we pick you up at a dirt farm? What a drama queen.”
Rarity looked up, seeing the familiar face of her caribou caretaker. He was holding a cold compress, which he carefully applied to Rarity’s eye before freeing her from the stocks. Her wrists and neck were sore, and she had trouble standing properly as he pushed her over to his wagon. After applying some healing salve to her back and thighs, he grabbed her face, staring deeply into her one good eye.
“Nah, it ain’t the eye, is it? I’ve seen this before. You finally learned the truth, didn’t you? Nobody wants you, that’s why you’re public property. And you’ll stay that way until you turn into an old gray mare and we put you out to pasture. Just accept it. There’s nothing you can do.”
Rarity hardly reacted to the caretaker’s shoving, allowing herself to fall into her cage. The compress and salves were draining away the pain from her body, but her spirit was now broken beyond repair. She closed her other eye and leaned into the swaying of the cart, letting the motion rock her to sleep. She was nothing. She mattered to no one. All that was left now was to be obedient and silent until, some day, it was finally all over. It was her place to be like this. And now that she learned the truth, learned to accept it, she could feel no pain. Only a vague sense that, at some point in the past, she had lost something, but now it didn’t matter. All that mattered is that she could suck a cock, or take one up her cunt, and doing so would result in a nice cold cage, a fresh bowl of water, and more dirt-flavored kibble than she’d ever want.
Author's Note
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Happy fapping!
