A little find

Lying on her side, she felt his big and strong hooves wrap around her chest as he entered, one sure and firm thrust at once filling her being with oh-so-awaited spreading warmth. Soft, nearly inaudible half-moan, half-breath left her lips, but he heard, and he started moving, ever so slowly, ever so gently, as if she was sleeping and he didn’t want to wake her up, and she could only answer in kind, with the softest of motions rocking her hips to the soothing waves of pleasure. Neither of them were in any hurry; neither of them ever wanted for this to end; and the moments turned into seconds, and the seconds turned into minutes, and the minutes turned into eternity of warm and tender bliss, of sweet nothings breathed into her ear, of hindhooves and tails intertwined in a sensual dance of passion, of her wings quivering in the air half-spread, of little gasps and silent whimpers...

And only when she had reached her utmost limit, only when she absolutely couldn’t bear any more of that sweet, delicious torture, only when she had felt her whole body filled up to the brim with the tingling warmth, only then did he sharply pick up the pace, pumping in and out of her in a heated frenzy all the way up until she let out the single last high-pitched whimper and burst. Her back arched, and her breath caught, and she rode the pulsing waves of pleasure for a moment that lasted forever.

Little by little, the waves started to ebb. For a while, she lay unmoving, breathing deep, and heavy, and without a single thought in her head.

And then she opened her eyes, coming back to reality. To the reality in where she was alone, covered in cold drying sweat, with the damp mess of sheets under her body, and with her only hoof achingly sore and sticky with her own shame.

She let out a shaky sigh.

Slowly, she rolled onto her back, dully staring into the ceiling. The quiet sound of her breathing, along with the soft ticking of the wall clock, were the only sounds punctuating the otherwise empty silence of the room.

It changed a lot since she first got here, this room. One by one, the machines and the monitors were going away, and it steadily went from looking like a hospital ward to being more like a normal bedroom it originally was. With simple warm interior, heavy furniture of dark wood, and a lot of empty space, it was how she always imagined some expensive hotel room to be - spacious, fancy, and impersonal. Not that bad, all in all.

Though, an actual hotel room would probably have a window in one of its walls. Or a couple of books on a shelf to pass the time. Maybe a newspaper under the door, or a little bell to call for service, or a mural on the far wall to stare at for hours, or a noisy neighbor to bicker with, or something, something, anything....

There was nothing. A foreign, soulless room, a bare minimum of furnishing, a featureless white above, and a constant, never-ending tickling of the clock that seemed to get louder and louder and louder with every single passing second.

She closed her eyes shut.

She could take it. Bedridden and alone, with nothing to do and nopony to care - she should’ve been used to all that. No, no, she was used to all that. Just had to… Just had to stop thinking. Just had to keep her mind off where she was; or what she was; or that she was to spend in this room the rest of her life...

Just had to take the one way out that she have always had.

Rolling back to her side, she drew a deep breath and bit her lip as her hoof slid down the familiar path.

***

Once again, she was staring into the dimly lit ceiling, her chest rising and falling with deep heavy breaths as she thoughtlessly listened to the distant ticking. With the weak pulses of dull pleasure quickly subsiding, the throbbing ache in her hoof was becoming more apparent by the second.

These last few days, it was at work nearly constantly, after all, and it was starting to take its toll.

Wincing from the pain, she rolled over, weakly reaching for an apple from the bowl on the bedside table and taking a bite of its juicy crispness. For a brief moment, the sweet, rich taste filling her mouth washed away the pain and the worries. A warm bed and an actual food whenever she wanted… She definitely could get used to it.

If it weren’t for the human.

The apple mush left a sour aftertaste in her mouth as she gulped down, glancing up at the wall clock. Only a few hours until he returns. It could be today, she thought, with a familiar pang of dread clutching her gut. Probably not, of course, today wasn’t any different from yesterday, or the day before that, or any other day she’ve spent there so far, for that matter, but well, still… It could be today.

She shifted, burying herself deeper into the blanket and tearing her eyes away from the clock.

There was a routine. Every day, the human would leave early in the morning, after leaving her some food for the day, and come back deep in the night, before going straight to sleep. Sometimes, he’d come up to her and ask how is she feeling today; sometimes, he’d bring a little needle to take a drop of her blood for a sample; and sometimes, when he was sure she was deep asleep, he’d pause and stay very still for a moment or two, silently watching her with those tiny expressionless eyes as she fought to ignore the cold shivers creeping up her spine.

That was it, though. Aside from these little things here and there, never once did he as much as look at her or talk with her, let alone touch her. It was more than two weeks now, maybe tthree - she couldn’t keep track of the time very well since she got there.

But she knew it wasn't going to last forever. They had a talk, back after the first day she woke up, a thorough talk about this world and his kind and her place and what she had to do if she didn’t want to go back to the thin and ragged cardboard. He wasn’t actually very chatty, no, nor was she particularly curious, but either way she did end up learning a few new things for herself.

One of these things - one that he made especially sure to convey - was that ponies and ‘humans’ were very, very similar to each other in their general anatomy. Similar enough for compatibility, as he put it.

So, yeah. It could be today.

She took another bite of the apple and thoroughly chewed on it, swallowing past the lump in her throat. The growing sickness in her stomach was making it harder to finish the meal.

No, no, it wasn’t that bad, really. After all, nothing have really changed for her - well, except that she’d probably never see the light of the day or another pony again in her life. But hey, she could take it. It was still that much better than the alternative, anyway. And the human? Well, at the end of the day he was just another male. Just another client. No big deal. She could take him too, if it meant staying alive and well fed on top of it.

During the day, when the human was only a memory pushed into the far corner of her mind, she could get herself to believe that. Mostly.

Then, there were the nights.

Her eyes fell on the spread of blankets on the floor beside the bed - just a few feet away - where the human slept. He was always restless in his sleep, tossing and turning and mumbling something under his breath for hours on end, keeping her awake and aware throughout the night. There, in the darkness filled by the frantic breathing and incoherent rambling of another, as minute after sleepless minute ticked by, she couldn’t help but dread, dread for the future, dread for the nights yet to come, the nights she will eventually have to share with this creature... And then she couldn’t help but look - and the vague shape of his large form stirring about in the dark was all she needed for her imagination to run wild. This pale, hairless body, huge enough to crush her with one careless move, would be on top of hers, pressing her down, pinning her; this flat, mismatched face would be above her, panting, grunting, wheezing into her ear; these hands, with long, insect-like fingers, would touch her, squeeze her, crawl over her; and then, then the worst of all would be his, his, his--!

She clenched her teeth and screwed her eyes shut, curling up and clutching her tail to her chest.

He was not justanother.

No matter how many times she would tell herself that, he was not just another client; he was alien, he was hideous, he was creepy and, and, and, he was huge. Goddesses was he huge. If his proportions were anything like a stallion’s, he would just kill her; tear her; split her in half on the spot for hoof’ sake…

A muffled whimper escaped her throat.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t... fair, that nothing, nothing could ever change even as unimaginable happened and she actually did woke up in another world like she always dreamed. That no matter what she was through in the end she was there for just the one damned thing over and over and over and over again.

She squeezed her eyes tighter as the tears started to fall. In the empty silent room she shook and sobbed quietly, noiselessly, as if afraid to draw too much attention to her pitiful, useless self.

...And as the frantic burning swirling inside her mind edged on unbearable, her trembling hoof, as if on its own, crept its way a well-known route down her belly.

The sobbing stopped. Not right away, no, not that easy, never that easy, but little by little, as she lay here frozen stiff, with her hoof clenched hard between the stumps of her hindlegs, little by little she cleared her mind of thoughts, of fears, of everything save for the vast, colorful, boundless flower meadow...

And her breathing calmed down. She stood there, among the fragrant blossoms of the sunlit field, with the soft ground right beneath all of her four strong, healthy hooves, and she felt the wind ruffling her outspread feathers, and she tasted the flowers in the air, and she was no longer alone. A stallion was right behind her, tenderly nuzzling her neck and her mane; he had no face, never the face, but it didn’t matter, because he was strong, and big, and gentle, and he was there for her, he was there to take her away from this prison of a body, away from her own thoughts, her useless, helpless thoughts that never could change anything and only made everything worse. She shuddered as she felt him lowering himself onto her back, puffing hot breaths into her mane and letting his stallionhood touch her behind…

…While softly, but firmly framing her sides with his hands.

She couldn’t tell when. It’s simply happened - the image changed, and now it was the human who stood behind her, lowering his strange elongated body onto hers and breathing into the back of her neck. There, in her mind, he wasn’t all that scary - sure, he was still different, still alien, but then his frame was only a little bigger than hers, and his caress felt warm and soothing and kind, and she knew he was just the right fit even before he thrusted in.

Then, of course, none of that mattered.

***

She woke up at the feeling of touch.

A moment of weightlessness, gone before she could really come to, and she felt herself lowered onto something soft, cold, and lumpy. The unfamiliar scent, weak, but sharp, hit her nostrils as she snuggled deeper into the softness. She wrinkled her nose, cracking open an eye.

Before her, the human stood, facing away and looming above the empty bed. His long arms moved about, back and forth and around, as if in some bizarre form of dance.

Then her mind sprang to awareness as the realization hit. She must’ve dozed off after she was done self-pleasuring - and then the human got back, and found her as she was, and had to move her away to change the bedsheets very distinctly stained with the results of said pleasuring.

Well.

At this point, it would be silly to pretend she had enough dignity left to worry about such things, anyway.

She lay back down, resting her chin on her hoof and letting out a quiet sigh. Her nose wrinkled up again, as she realized it was a pile of his bedding on the floor she was lying atop of, and it wasn’t exactly fresh, either. That, too, was another thing that didn’t really bother her at all.

The human didn’t say anything about the mess, of course, he never did. Quiet and impassive as usual, he went about his task without as much as a glance in her direction. She responded in kind, closing her eyes and trying not to think much of anything. Having him act like she wasn’t even there was somewhat hard to get used to at first, but then she figured she could just as well do the same with him. Nothing good could come out of drawing attention, anyway.

Out of nowhere, it crossed her mind that the scent she felt wasn’t as horrible and repulsive as she feared. Sure, it was weird, alien, unlike anything she ever smelled, but it wasn’t… It wasn’t exactly bad. She found herself burying her nose deeper into the sheets and taking another breath before pulling away and recomposing herself.

Another minute later, he was done. She let him pick her up without protest, and, before he laid her down on the newly made bed, she opened her eyes. Up close, he looked distant and worn, with darkened bags under his eyes and a deep wrinkle between his brows. It was so unlike the calm and reserved mask of an expression he usually wore, she found herself wondering - was something wrong today? Or was he always like that by the end of the day? She never really paid attention before; then again, he never carried her like that before either.

She thought, maybe it was a good moment to say something. To… To show concern, maybe, make some small talk, try and learn a bit more about the one who was going to own her for the rest of her life...

Then he sat by the bed, bringing out a pack of body wipes, and the words stuck in her throat as she suddenly remembered what was next on the schedule.

She tensed up a moment before the damp cloth first touched her skin. A reflex, nothing more - she knew well she had nothing to fear. The human cleaned her quickly and methodically, scrubbing at her body with firm motions and clinical impassion, and there wasn’t much else for her to do but to lie there and wait for him to finish.

“How are you feeling today?” he asked the usual, as he held her hoof up and rubbed it clean. It was the first she heard from him in days.

“Fine,” she replied the usual, blankly staring straight up. Normally, the questions would end here.

“Fine or ‘fine’?” he continued to her surprise, glancing up from his task. “If there are any aches or pains, no matter how small, or any unusual feeling anywhere, you should tell me.”

“No, I’m…” she winced as he moved over to the more sensitive parts of her body. “It’s fine, really. I’m fine.”

“Good,” he concluded with a nod. "Your recovery went very well."

The rest of the procedure went in silence. She had to roll over once he was done with the front, letting him scrub at her back, and once that was over as well, he stood up, putting away the washcloth and moving to pick up the sheets and blankets from the floor. One by one he proceeded to fold them up and stash them away into the drawer, and once done with that, he turned off the lights and finally left the room.

Her body went limp at once as she let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. It’s okay, she said to herself. Another uneventful evening went by, and there was nothing to be nervous about. Sure, a few things happened today that have never happened before, what’s with him talking three times the usual, but for the most part, nothing was really new. It’s okay.

Today still wasn’t the day.

From somewhere not very far, came the sound of a running shower. Having calmed down, she thought back at the time she’ve spent there, and wondered - maybe it was never going to be the day. Maybe she simply got it wrong back then. Maybe all he wanted was to just kind of... own her here.

To watch her sleep in his bed as he goes to work in the morning, snoring quietly into the pillow. To carry her around, making her seem like a tiny brittle toy in his large, shovel-like hands. To feed her, and tend for her, and keep her well and clean and tidy like she was nothing more but some sort of an exotic pet.

Yeah. Yeah. Maybe that was his thing, what could she know. Maybe he never meant anything more than that. Like, like, sure, he did tell her that she was to obey his every word, and, and that he was lonely, and then about that whole ‘compatibility’ thing, but then that doesn’t exactly mean... that doesn’t exactly mean…

She found herself staring into the darkness, at the empty space on the floor where the human usually slept. Where he had his bedding laid out for him, every single day. The one that he just folded up and put away for the very first time since he started sleeping down there.

It was today.

She felt her throat dry up as she broke out in a cold sweat. No. Her heart raced together with a thousand of panicked thoughts in her head. No. The tears welled up in her eyes. No. She squeezed her eyes closed and grit her teeth.

She won't cry in front of no one.

She sucked in a shaky breath. She couldn't cry before him. It'd never, ever help, and would only make everything worse. So she'll keep it together. She won't cry.

She wiped the tears away. She knew it'd be like that, after all. Knew since the first day, and agreed to it herself, too. Now, now she simply will do what she has to, and come what may.

At the very least, she won’t have to spend her days dreading the unknown anymore.

Somewhere, not very far, the sound of the running water has stopped. For a moment, it was quiet, very, very quiet - and then the door of the room squeaked open, and his hushed breathing filled the air. The floorboards creaked gently as his steps slowly drew closer in the dark, stopping as he reached the bed. It dipped ever so slightly, when he sank down on the other side with a long quiet sigh. A moment later, he shifted closer under the blankets, without a word wrapping his arms around her rigid form and pressing her in a tight embrace against his chest. Then, with another little sigh, he relaxed his grip and went limp.

She lay there, stiff as a statue, afraid to budge and barely breathing, with the heat and the smell of his freshly showered body enveloping her from head to tail. He didn’t move either; it was so quiet and still that she could feel his heartbeat, pulsing through her being in slow heavy waves and mingling with her own, fluttering in her chest like crazy. She was prepared for anything - anything but another suspense.

“Well.” Her voice sounded loudly through the silent room, so low and strained she could barely recognize it. “Are we doing it or what?”

He shifted slightly, drawing a deep breath.

“Wha...?” he drawled after a pause, already sounded hazy and half-asleep. “Oh... No, no... Not today… Maybe tomorrow.” He shifted again, pulling her closer. She could feel his arms coiling tighter, under, above, and around her body, fingers stroking through the short fur. “I had a long day… I’m tired…” One of his hands ended up under her head, cupping it in his palm with her ear between his fingers. ”For now... for now I just want to hold you…” His voice faded as he started to snore.

Somehow, she found it in herself to force out a little wry chuckle.

“Wow,” she said with a sneer. “You are lonely, aren’t you?”

He didn’t answer at first, softly breathing into her mane and seemingly asleep. Then, barely audible, he mumbled:

“...Aren’t you?”

She didn’t have an answer to that. Soon enough, the human was sound asleep, with her tiny form cradled firmly in his arms.

This night, his sleep was quiet, deep and peaceful.