Fall of Equestria: Reign of Mares

No matter how much time had passed, whenever Lucky closed his eyes, he could still see the searing lights and stone walls of Rarity's basement.

It had seemed so standard, at first. During his first change of scenery, when he'd been led by the hand down the rough stone stairs to his new home, he'd gotten a decent if bleary-eyed look around the place. It was a clean hexagon of sheer stone walls, cold and dimly lit, a far cry from the elegantly designed upstairs. A terrifying black pyramid sat in the middle of the floor, each of its six sides covered in an array of buttons, levers, and extendable tubes. Six chairs of varying sizes were bolted to the floor around it, each with a stiff rubber erection jutting from the seat.

He couldn't remember if he'd struggled. He'd had to be dragged the last few feet by his shoulders, his hooves dragging on the dusty floor, but whether this was a token act of resistance or due to sheer exhaustion was a mystery even to himself. His two handlers shared haughty smirks as they lubed the dildo up and lowered Lucky onto it. He whimpered as it entered him, muffled by his now-familiar ball gag; this wasn't the girthiest toy Mistress Rarity had used on him in her experiments, but the broad, flat head made insertion - and would make excision - much more jarring. He was pushed down smoothly most of the way until the mares stopped, glanced at each other, then slammed him down the final two inches, producing a yelp that felt like it had been hammered out right from the depths of his gut. "That's what that feels like," the mare on his left hissed in his ear. She spat in his face, then helped her partner tie his wrists to the chair's arm and left him there in the dark.

For fifteen minutes, that was it. A chilly room, a dark pyramid, saliva clinging to his eyelid, an almost-comfortable chair and a burning internal ache. Nothing more than an ache, though. Whatever was in those creams Mistress Rarity was using on him, with surprising rapidity it had transformed him from an anal virgin into somepony able to take seven inches with relative ease. A series of chairs and mounts had warped his body, overseen by Mistress Rarity and a sneering pink-maned assistant whose name he still didn't know. The pain had frequently brought tears to his eyes, but it hadn't stopped. Having been inside the asses of two mares before, he'd flushed with guilt each time the rubber was withdrawn and he was shown that it still hadn't even reached the width of his own dick.

It wasn't... entirely unpleasant, he would admit. Even if the insertions were way too fast, there was an intense feeling of relief when his muscles finally relaxed, and an uncomfortable eroticism in the feeling of being filled. The pressure on his prostate was something else entirely, like a monstrous third nipple in his colon being milked. And it wasn't even as if he'd been totally opposed to the idea in the first place. There was nothing inherently gay about being pegged; he'd even known a couple of straight stallions to confess that they loved it when their wives pulled out the strapons. Having a hot, bitchy assistant finger cream into his asshole was sometimes even the highlight of his day. But after endless penetrations, vibrations, and watery spurts into slick black tubes, there was only one thing that Lucky had been able to conclude:

At the end of the day, he just wasn't into this.

This was something that Mistress Rarity would have known if she had cared to ask. As it was, the ability to force an erection was all that she judged her efforts by, and her final design was already spilling extra inches down Lucky's leg. If she had been hoping that it would keep him in a state of permanent arousal, however, she would be disappointed. It was amazing, he reflected, the kinds of things one could get used to.

He'd practically stopped feeling his latest chair-plug when the assistants returned, dragging another stallion with them. Lucky looked up as they came into the light, catching sight of a blue coat and lanky body, but tore his eyes away at the last second. He wouldn't want to risk any of his friends seeing him like this. He'd grant them the same courtesy.

It wasn't long before they were left alone again. The new arrival sat two seats down from Lucky, just at the corner of his vision. He constantly wriggled, whimpering through his ball gag. Lucky was torn between offering sympathy and snapping at him to sit still and relax, but ultimately could do and did neither. The third stallion took even longer to arrive, and it was more than an hour before all six chairs were filling their occupants. Then the lights finally came on to their full strength, and with a flourish, Mistress Rarity appeared.

To say that she was gorgeous was an understatement. To Lucky's eyes the transformation was a subtle one, there being little about her when they had first met that could have been improved, but if the circumstances had been different he might have complimented her heartily on the success of her diet. Her luscious form had been cut as though by diamonds into a subtle hourglass shape, not too thick, not too thin, and curving sensuously with even the slightest of motions. Her breasts were not only larger but shapelier, supported by what seemed an impossibly slim bra, while the black thong that wrapped around her mouth-watering rear left even less to the imagination. The rest of her was completely bare, her toned stomach, her ample cleavage, and her stunning legs all fully on display, shining like polished marble. There was no part of her that Lucky wouldn't have loved to run his hands over, followed by his tongue. And knowing that she might even allow it was what finally got him stiff.

Needing no further introduction, Rarity descended the stairs and sashayed around the room, directing her apprentices from stallion to stallion. She posed with each motion, swishing her tail, jutting her chest, and bending over at every opportunity. With that in front of him, Lucky could barely concentrate on what was being done to him - which, he would later realize, may have been the point. A familiar tube was wrapped around his dick and connected to the pyramid, which hummed as it came to life. His hands were carefully lifted and a desk was assembled around his chair, trapping him within it. Then, something new; his gag was ripped out and another tube was stuffed into his mouth, expanding behind his teeth to lock in place, and then magically stretched out to connect to a pipe on the ceiling.

Once all the stallions were hooked up in this way, Rarity did a final circuit of the room, making sure all the stallions were to her liking. When she came to Lucky she straddled his cock-tube and pressed her hand against his chest, bending his chair back into a more comfortable position. It was with great difficulty that Lucky managed to keep his gaze above her neckline, but this only made her titter. "Don't be shy," she whispered. "This is all for your pleasure. Look as long and hard as you like." A jiggle made him give in and stare at the inches of rounded cleavage on display, which got a sultry smile from her as she moved away.

With some more minor readjustments and a brief stop to apply makeup, it wasn't long before she was finished with the stallions for good. "Coco!" Rarity called, walking toward the stairs. "Could you pull the blue lever, please?"

At the sound of her name, Lucky's heart leaped. He didn't have long to think of her, however. There was a noise from above not unlike that of a toilet flushing and a creamy liquid flowed down the upper tube and into his mouth. He gagged as mouthful after mouthful was forced into him in regular spurts, cramming his cheeks faster than he could swallow it. Just when he thought he could take no more, the assault stopped. "Excellent," Rarity said, clapping her hands. "This will make caring for you all much easier."

With a spring in her step, the Mistress approached the dark pyramid and began adjusting dials, stirring it to life. "Now, don't be concerned if things feel a little strange for a while," she continued. "These are only proofs-of-concept, and any concerns you may have will be listened to. Keeping you satisfied is our greatest concern. Once the Committee approves we'll be able to make as many changes as we like, and in another month, well... you may never have to get out of those seats ever again."

She trotted back to the stairs, stopping to cheerily wave goodbye. "I'll be back tomorrow with a survey, darlings, and some work to keep you occupied. In the meantime, please enjoy this gift that Sequin and Lacy made to thank you for being so very patient during our work. Pleasant dreams!" And with that, she was gone.

Sequin and Lacy (were those their names?) smirked at each other. In practiced harmony, they blew loud raspberries at the stallions, turned and smacked their butts, and then marched after Rarity with both middle fingers raised. Sequin turned off the lights and slammed the door behind her, leaving the basement in total darkness.

Lucky steadied himself and tried to stay calm; it had never bothered him before, but he'd been starting to fight with claustrophobia ever since his arrival. He tried to start the little meditative breathing that he knew, made doubly harder by the tube in his mouth and the presence of five other ponies. They were all slowly becoming aware of each other, these six points of heat in an otherwise cold room, one still choking, one quietly weeping, their labored breathing clearly audible over the ever-present hum of the Satiator.

And then-

Lucky started as two hands roughly grabbed his dick, bouncing himself on the dildo in his ass. A skilled tongue licked his shaft from base to head and swirled around the tip. He grunted in pleasure and heard the others in the room doing the same. Then a third hand started to stroke him off, and then a second mouth, sliding up to wrestle tongues with the first around his crown. Together they spat and drooled on his cock until every inch of it was lubed up, and then really got to work. They kissed it, bit it, rubbed it aggressively across their faces, all while squeezing and twisting the lower half with their hands - it was by far the roughest action Lucky had ever had.

The assault kept up as the room got louder. If Lucky closed his eyes he could practically see Sequin and Lacy on the floor in front of him, and it made his heart race as he thought about those two haughty bitches on their knees, wearing their usual sneers while they worshiped his cock with their mouths. But when one of them drew back and swallowed a third of his length in one gulp, his leg spasmed and kicked out, hitting nothing. And when warm breath hit his skin that could only be laughter, all he could hear was the nasal moaning of the stallion next to him. His confused senses paralyzed him, keeping him from cumming, but he still found himself impulsively thrusting up into the mare's mouth, vibrating his own ass further.

So it went on, the room echoing with moans and wails as Rarity's assistants simultaneously sucked the six stallions off. And so it would be, for what none of them yet comprehended would be a very, very long time.

Lucky was awoken by a warm pail of water being thrown over him. He came to with a start, instantly seeing a pair of shadows looming over him in the dim cell. "Time to wake up, sweetheart," the shorter one said to him in a smiling, motherly tone. "Applejack's waiting for you." The taller, younger mare just turned up her nose and pointedly dumped out the rest of the bucket onto his crotch.

After taking a moment to catch his breath and orient himself, Lucky stretched and rubbed his eyes. He was dimly aware that he'd been dreaming, but he wasn't sure about what, and didn't care to remember. Since the two mares standing over him didn't seem to be in a hurry, he took his time working the life back into his limbs and spine and then slowly, shakily, pushed himself onto his hooves.

Right away, the burning in his asshole was back full force. He winced hard and almost keeled over again, clenching for all he was worth. His painfully stretched insides ached in protest to every movement. Before the Reign, he'd used to think that 'I won't be able to sit down for a week!' was just a compliment. Now... well, it wasn't as if he had many opportunities to sit down anyway.

Still, knowing that mares always had ways to make a situation even worse than it already was, Lucky swallowed his discomfort and slowly uncurled, ending in an awkward half-crouch that was the best he could manage. Once they were satisfied, the mares stepped forward and each took one of his leashes, not even bothering with a black bag as they led him out of his cell.

The two of them kept a gentle pace, so in addition to carefully straightening his gait, Lucky took the rare opportunity to examine his surroundings. Sadly, there wasn't much to see. They walked through a dim corridor of earthen floors and iron cells, and the few of those that were occupied held nopony that he recognized. A few volunteer mares slipped by with clipboards and feed buckets, giggling shyly when they saw him. Distant hoofsteps probably indicated the last stragglers filing out of the stands, and from what he'd picked up on past visits, by now the sands would be being swept clean in preparation for a more conventional sporting event. For today at least, the nightmares of the Arena were over.

The line of cells eventually ended, and it was only one more corner before Lucky could see daylight again. He squinted and resisted the urge to shield his eyes, knowing that some mares would take this as an aggressive gesture. There was more chatter outside, but one nearby voice, accustomed to being loud, caught his attention above the rest. "I must thank you again for your contribution to this event," the Mayor belted out over the sound of carts.

"Shucks, weren't nothing," Applejack unmistakably replied. "Big Mac made the whole journey all by himself. He took to bein' a faggot like swine to a landfill."

"Yes, I'm sure your sister will be overjoyed that he is finally safe to bring home," the Mayor said. "But I was also referring to that dashing charcoal specimen you provided for the show. Really, Applejack - what have you been thinking, keeping such an eager boytoy all to yourself?"

"That good-fer-nothing black collar? He's just a lousy plowpony. Picked him up in a group transfer and he's been trouble ever since."

"That may be, but he's caused quite a stir. I haven't had this many backdoor requests since the Spring Feeding Festival, and it isn't even nightfall yet. And demand like that means that for the next few days, that stallion will be worth his weight in-"

Squinting, Lucky was pulled the last steps to emerge fully into the daylight. The moment he appeared, he was assaulted by dozens of high-pitched screams and squeals, as though a famous pop pony had just burst onto a stage, followed by a chorus of wolf whistles and catcalls. He flinched back in surprise, nearly strangling himself once again, and looked around. The stallion loading zone wasn't nearly as secluded as he'd thought, opening up to two main streets and a bustling community market, and all of it seemed to have suddenly come to a screeching halt. Dozens, no, easily a hundred mares were waiting in the streets, screeching like their lives depended on it, and all of them were fixated on him.

As the cheering continued it slowly dawned on him that he was standing right in the middle of town completely naked and impulsively tried to cover up, to little avail. While this should have been a drop in the bucket compared to his "performance" earlier, the unexpected familiarity of it all was making this all to real for him - this was a place he knew, and being this close to his jailers, being able to see the whites of their eyes as they applauded his body, made his stomach lurch. There were ponies he knew in that crowd: mares he'd passed every day on the street, mares who took his change at the market, mares he'd fucked, all happily screaming and staring him down with the intensity of vultures. The comparison had barely occurred to him when a pegasus winged down behind him and threw her arms over his shoulders, which cued the rest of the flock to descend.

The two handlers drew closer to him and tried to clear a path, but could do nothing to stop the countless hands groping for his muscular arms and backside. Slim fingers stroked through his cropped tail and countless lips brushed his neck and cheeks, each staying for just a moment before their owner was hip-checked aside for another mare to take her place. Lucky tried as usual to stay composed and keep moving but inwardly smirked at the attention; it was actually pretty nice once one got over the initial shock. His freely-hanging dick swelled a little with pride, which would have caused great delight if his handlers' tails weren't carefully positioned to hide it.

As they moved forward at a snail's pace, Lucky caught sight of Mayor Mare and Applejack standing patiently near her cart. Ponyville's elected official had tried her best to keep up her appearance of being older and more mature than her peers, but her flushed skin and straining, perky tits left little doubt as to her true age. "You know how mares without contracts are," she yelled over the ongoing cheers. "Show them something that gets them wet and they'll eat him alive. But in only a few days that well will be dry, and they'll have a new flashy colt to lust over instead. Sell him while he's hot, and any mare here will give you the roof over her head as long as she can sleep under him instead."

It was admittedly refreshing to hear somepony barter over his body, rather than pretending it was about his work contract. Still, Lucky reflected as his hand was roughly yanked from his side and squashed between two jiggling thighs, being a piece of meat on display had never felt so good.

Something hard and thin was pressed against his palm. Lucky instinctively grasped it, slowing even further to examine it. It was a black marker pen, the cap already off; an innocuous sight, but this was what made his blood freeze. "Quick, sign my boobs!" a cream-coloured mare yelled, hitching up her shirt while her friends hooted. He moved without thinking, stretching his arm mechanically, making curved lines across that sweet buttery surface. The same thing he'd written thousands, thousands upon thousands of times before.

"Aah, yeah!" The mare flared her wings and let out an ear-splitting scream. Lucky flinched and dropped the pen, which fell unnoticed underhoof. The mare turned away and shook her chest mockingly at the crowd, slowing when she glanced down and saw what he'd actually written on her. "Wait, what the fuck?"

"Ladies!" Applejack broke in with a roar, which Lucky had never thought he would be glad to hear. Most of the mares immediately quieted, and those who didn't were quickly shushed. "I'll thank you for not manhandlin' my property," the farmer said in a stern voice.

As one, the entire group looked at their hooves and respectfully stepped back. The two handlers breathed sighs of relief and walked on, dragging Lucky in front of Applejack. Mayor Mare still hovered at her shoulder. "Take this opportunity, Applejack," she said. "Let me take care of the bidding. I know some powerful mares who demand to always be on top of the latest craze, and they'll take him off your hands for more than triple what the Funhouse will offer. Say the word and we can split the proceeds, 70-30."

The silence was palpable as Applejack stepped forward. Lucky meekly looked up at her. She was chewing her lip in thought, one hand on her curvy hip, letting her eyes trail across his battered body. His heart beat hard as he rapidly weighted the pros and cons of the offer; being the plaything of a rich mare sounded worlds better than walking back and forth across a field for all eternity. But if there was one thing that his meeting with Big Macintosh had impressed upon him, it was that he needed to start making some long-term plans - and he dreaded to think what powerful mares would do when they got tired of their new toys. And if they took him out of Ponyville...? But no, he couldn't think about that. With a resigned breath, knowing that his own desires ultimately meant nothing, Lucky simply waited.

They stayed like that for what felt like much longer than it was. Applejack's gaze traveled up and down him, up and down, down and down, up and... down. When she crossed his half-erect shaft for the fourth time she gave up the pretense and stared at it, surreptitiously licked her lips, and seemed to come to a decision. "Naw," she announced, to a chorus of groans. "Sometimes you need a troublemaker around, to keep everypony else in line. An' if I catch him makin' a pass at anypony again..." She looked around, smiling proudly. "I'll tell my brother his boyfriend wants to meet at the Arena!"

The crowd cheered, and finally started to disperse, but not before one- two- three- four- five more mares darted in to slap Lucky's ass before leaving. Mayor Mare pouted, pursing spectacularly full lips. "60-40?" she offered.

"Naw means naw, Mayor." Applejack sauntered up to Lucky, still grinning. "Seems like you got a little crush on my bro there, troublemaker," she teased. "You sure there ain't a little nice, obedient red in you after all?"

Remembering his place, Lucky averted his gaze. "It was all part of the show, Mistress," he muttered.

"Sure it was." She pulled a thong from her pocket and flicked it at him, expertly hooking it over his nose. "Put that on. We're headin' out."

The smell of aloe urged him on. In a hurry, Lucky slipped on the oil-soaked undergarment, groaning as the enchanted string soothed his burning asshole. Applejack wasn't usually this generous unless she wanted something, and it was only a moment before he learned what that thing was. "Alright, hitch him up," she said, striding away. "The star of the show's goin' up front."

And with that, momentary relief turned once again to tired resignation. His handlers led him around the front of the apple cart, where Wide Load finally came into view. The broad pony was barely recognizable within his bolted-on harness, with almost everything but his mouth and ears covered in metal straps or the suffocating black fabric. Lucky grimaced, but there was no time for sympathy; his handlers were already pushing him into the slightly more conventional harness at the side. "Easy, dearie," the older mare said, sliding heavy wooden bars over his shoulders. Then his leashes came loose, only to be replaced by reigns that hung on him just as tightly, and then the blinders, obscuring his vision save for what was right in front of his hooves. He gulped, knowing from experience that that tiny gap was only there to keep him paranoid; even if he saw something coming, momentum and his limited movement meant that he would have no choice but to walk through it.

"Yah!" Applejack yelled, tugging the reins. Lucky choked and Wide Load moved first, lurching silently forward into the road. For a few seconds Lucky just dragged before recovering his hooves and starting to pull. Together they set a steady pace, with Lucky straining and struggling to keep up. He knew that with his tired legs he wasn't contributing much, but he kept trying, both to keep up appearances and to lighten his partner's burden, even a little. Wide Load may have been a jerk, but he didn't deserve this.

On they trudged, minute after minute, stopping and starting. The roads were loud and busy. At the second intersection Lucky sighed, starting to relax. The cart wasn't so different from his usual harness, after all. Trusting the fate of his hooves completely to Applejack, he closed his eyes and let the reins guide him, starting to tune into the conversations around him as his stressed mind began to wander.

"...cute, but so expensive," a mare passing in front of him was saying. "I'm thinking about starting up an affordable public rental project, but I haven't run the numbers yet..."

She moved away, and a voice from the sidewalk drifted in in her place.

"...unbelievably good. I should have stopped eating tenderfreeze years ago. My boobs are even bigger, and I'm always so fucking horny now."

"But aren't you afraid it'll be a colt?"

"I'll just give it to Pinkie Pie. She never says no, and I want to get pregnant again right away..."

The reigns lashed, and he walked on a little further. More voices drifted here and there, between stops and starts.

"...enough? Tender Buttons recommends at least two orgasms a day to stay healthy, but sometimes a week goes by when I don't even masturbate. Do... do you think there's something wrong with me? I'm scared to..."

"...don't care how good of a fuck he is, you can't let him know where you live, and you know why..."

"...makes her look like a total prude, and... Ohmygosh, is that Lucky Clover?"

"Ohmygosh! I so ship him and Big Mac. He's, like, totally going in my fantasy harem."

"No fair, I called him!"

"I let you have Cheese Sandwich! Why can't you..."

"...worth. Even with the smallest size, I just can't get my muscles to relax. But after Mistletoe took two stallions at once last month, I can't stop..."

"...you have to try a purple collar, even if it's just once. I haven't been pounded so hard in..."

"...Look, let me be honest. This is just going up my husband's ass. Do you have any that are really under-ripe?"

"Let me see if I can find you a better shape..."

"...didn't think I'd like the taste, but now? I wonder if I can install him in my house, like on a wall somewhere, so I can suck him dry whenever I feel like it..."

"...only reason I still talk to her is for Golden Root. That six-pack is worth a shitty friend any day..."

"...hasn't come out of her castle in-"

"Mooooom! My hooves hurt! Can't those stallions carry us?"

"Petal, get away from him! I can't believe I ever let you do that..."

"...and when I got back my freaking grandma was riding him right on the table! I'm gonna have to..."

"...on. We don't have to divide him up. If we're all pitching in, why don't we just get a huge bed so we can all fuck him together? We can be, like, caribou sisters or something..."

"...It fucking sucks. Half the team's never touched a thundercloud before, and all of them keep ditching me to go visit their boyfriends. I only get one day off a week, and I can't even- Oh hey, Applejack!"

"Howdy, Rainbow. You comin' with us tonight?"

"Sorry, AJ. I'm stuck teaching Feathermay how to mix rainbows. Again."

"Cornrows. You think y'all are ever gonna get back to your old numbers?"

"Depends. Is Symmetry gonna bust my rump if I let Thunderlane out of the office?"

"S'pose not, then. You stop by if you ever get a free hour, alright?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll see you in, like... three years."

There was a short, bitter silence, and they started moving again.

"...the news? Another colt caught behind the schoolhouse, raping the mouths of three fillies."

"Disgusting. It's barbaric that Cheerilee keeps letting them into her school at all, the little..."

"...seriously as long as my arm..."

"...refused to come out of her room all day. She was working extra shifts for weeks just to rent Big Macintosh for an afternoon. Now, well..."

"...once you've creamed the butter and sugar, beat in two eggs, then add just a little over two cups of flour - I like to sprinkle in a pinch of cinnamon, for luck - and then..."

"...Glacia's sake, stop crying. He wasn't even attractive."

"I j-just miss him so muh-muh-muuuuuuuuuuuch-"

"No you don't. Come on. Once you've tasted a real stallion you'll see how silly you're being..."

"...calling it the 'Retake The Homeland Initiative'. You know, giving those muscle-bound beasts something useful to do. We're not seeing the effects down here, where there's plenty of labor to keep them occupied, but back in Manehattan it's getting hard to find a stallion who can even lift me over his..."

"...so much pressure, y'know? It's like, I wasn't straight a year ago, y'know? And I'm not, like, suddenly gonna start preferring..."

"Ooh, yeah, baby... don't stop... that's it, right there..."

And then they pulled away onto a quieter street, out of the market district and onto the long, slow road back to Sweet Apple Acres, leaving Lucky alone with nothing but the weight of the cart and his own thoughts.

Hearth's Warming Eve

Rarity was annoyed. Lucky was blearily aware of that.

For the first time in a long time, he knew what time of year it was. It had been two months... maybe a little more than two months? Time had a way of slipping away from him, here in this hexagonal prison. Now he had a new point of reference to work from, one which only came once a year. A while ago, that might have felt like a spot of hope for him. Now, it hardly seemed to matter, especially with how adamant Rarity was that nothing more needed to change.

In fairness, to an outsider, she might have seemed correct. Everything about the room was a vast improvement from when this treatment had started. In fact, it had been almost surreal how quickly Rarity's basement had been transformed. For the first few weeks, it seemed like not an hour went by when something wasn't being measured, disassembled or upgraded. If Lucky hadn't known better, he might have thought that the plans for these devices had been in the works since long before the Reign had started. But of course... that was ridiculous.

First to change were the chairs. The stiff-backed work seats had transformed into huge reclined surfaces, curved in at the edges and lined with luminescent blue pillows, faintly lighting up their bodies even at night. A work desk swiveled overtop, giving him some freedom of movement. Once, his aches and pains could only be soothed once a day, when Sequin and Lacy had had to laboriously unhook each stallion from their equipment, walking them around the room to stretch and shit in a bucket; now, his seat would vibrate periodically to massage him and keep his muscles from atrophying. The dildo up his ass had gone through several variations before ending up as a stiff hollow tube, performing the dual role of hitting his prostate and giving him daily enemas, washing his shitpipe clean. Combined with a marginally more controlled flood of gruel from the ceiling twice a day, no one had had to get up in weeks.

Compared to that, everything else seemed trivial. The room was warmer now, and brightly painted. Well-angled spotlights gave each stallion plenty of light, though with the side effect of throwing each other's exposed cocks and balls into sharp relief. The food was... well, it was edible, and that was about all that could be said about it. From time to time an all-mare construction crew would come down and fill the basement with an immense clattering, but as he faced toward the stairs Lucky could never see what they were doing.

Work was utter tedium. Each stallion had a single task that they performed over and over again, like machines. Nothing interesting, of course; clumsy stallions couldn't be trusted with scissors or needles, and they had no eye for design like the mares upstairs. Instead they got the minor tasks, each given just enough freedom of movement to go through the motions. One spent all day stamping order forms. Another stenciled designs onto strips of fabric. A third did nothing but fold paper into envelopes. Their work was picked up and dropped off every few hours, at first by Sequin and Lacy, but later by other mares and evens stallions in red collars as Rarity's business grew.

As for Lucky? His handwriting, which Rarity had described as "exquisite" had earned him a special honor: he was the one who personally signed every letter that went out of the building. His wrists were tied to the corners of his desk by eight inches of black string, giving him just enough room to shuffle papers and write with the quill tied to his left hand. Flyers, receipts, thank-yous for repeat customers, everything demanded a little personal touch from a mare whose ads boasted she treated every client like a best friend. "Be your best, love Rarity." "Your glamorous friend, Rarity." "Hugs and kisses, Rarity." The same words, all day, every day, forever.

He could have refused, of course. Any of them could have chosen to stop or rebel at any time. But then he would have nothing to do at all, no distraction from his predicament, stuck listening to the snuffling breaths of other stallions and his own thoughts. His own thoughts... and the Satiator.

Physically the machine was the same, but its changing hums and glowing lights hinted that it was growing more powerful by the day. It knew more than a dozen different sex routines now, taught to it by carefully feeding it rolled-up cocktubes. Every thirty minutes, or earlier if he pressed a button on his desk, it would whir to life and play one at random. There was Sequin and Lacy's aggressive double blow job, and a pair of heavenly silken lips that could only belong to Rarity, and a third, unknown mare who'd given him his first taste of pussy in weeks. And then more, and more. A buffet of hot, wet tunnels squeezed themselves down onto him, milking him with the skill of professional whores. There were titfucks, deep-throatings, the intense tightness of anal, playing out over and over again for his pleasure.

There were times when he had to laugh. Wasn't this the kind of life all stallions fantasized about? Here he was, lying on his back on an obscenely comfortable chair, making a living off the most trivial work imaginable and getting sucked and fucked dozens of times a day by the most skilled cocksmokers in Equestria - mares he couldn't see or hear, sure, but that only meant that his pleasure was only limited by his imagination. No wants, no worries, and all of Equestria devoting their best minds and hottest bodies to letting him empty his balls in them... What could he possibly have to complain about? Wouldn't he have killed for an opportunity to live this life a year ago?

And yeah, it was fun. Awesome, even. For a little while.

Everything hurt. His body was superficially fine, of course, but he could feel the lack of movement in his bones. He needed to run, to flex, to shout, or just to speak, even at all. He missed the sun. He missed his home. He missed things he didn't know it was possible to miss, like combing his mane or taking an unassisted dump. He missed food maybe most of all; his tongue threatened mutiny with every slimy mouthful of the increasingly tasteless gruel. Imprisonment was torture, he'd come to realize, even if it did come free with unlimited blow jobs. And it was another torture altogether when he realized that after mere days of non-stop fucking, he was absolutely, completely and totally bored with sex.

Or, he frequently clarified before he could make any hasty decisions, perhaps he was simply bored with this kind of sex. This rough, emotionless, purely physical sex, so incredibly varied in style and technique but somehow always the same. He'd become desensitized to it, almost numb; he could last for hours now, getting worked over again and again until his dick felt like taffy and his overtaxed balls felt like smashed grapes, all while feeling nothing more than discomfort and irritation. The fear that he would never be able to enjoy fucking again lay upon him heavily some nights. Wasn't there anything he could do to mix this up, add some spice back into what had become a chore? Was it really so wrong to just want to eat a mare out from time to time? To have some actual foreplay, to see her smile, to hear her moan? To, and he couldn't believe he was thinking this, not have sex?

But he had no means of voicing these questions, and he suspected he already knew what the answers would be. And so he did his job, he ate his food, and he felt less and less, week after week. Until one fateful day, on Hearth's Warming Eve, when Mistress Rarity, in her infinite generosity, asked what presents she could give them to improve on their already-perfect experience. Judging by her response, their requests had been... not what she'd expected.

"...ungrateful pigs!" Rarity was shouting. Lucky blinked blearily in her direction. It was difficult to focus on her. All the lights in the basement had been turned on, blindingly bright, and since the start of winter Rarity refused to approach the stallions unless the Satiator was turned to an even higher intensity than normal. Currently Lucky was being ridden hard by an unknown mare, and his mind's eye was filling in the details that he'd invented in his endless boredom: a tall beauty he'd named Strawberry after the colour of her coat, slightly chubby in just the way that he liked, her mouth open in a ring of pleasure but her smiling eyes trained on his, breasts jiggling with each bounce, her hands sliding up and down his chest, bringing her closer and closer until he could practically taste her-

Rarity slapped him with a fistful of papers, drawing him temporarily back to her. She was as gorgeous as ever, dressed up for the weather in a stylish red coat with fluffy white trim. It was far less revealing than her usual attire, but on her the outfit somehow oozed eroticism, making Lucky's overtaxed boner just a little bit more genuine. "Less sex?" she snapped, crumpling up one of the stallions' many requests and throwing it away. "Going outside? More difficult work? 'Let me out of this damned machine, you heartless-' Eugh!" She threw her hands in the air and stomped away.

It took some time for her to calm down. "Listen to me, you horrible creatures," she growled while pacing, "I simply do not know what more you want from me. I've taken away everything in life that once caused you pain. I've given you every pleasure your puerile little minds can comprehend. And you tell me that you want to leave?" She snorted. "Am I supposed to be impressed? Do you think you have to earn my favor by pretending to have suppressed your desires?"

Her tone changed. "Darlings, the world is different now," she crooned, leaning lovingly over one of Lucky's neighbors. "All those things you used to pretend to like so that foolish mares would reward you with sex... you don't have to worry about them any more. You no longer have to work just to buy us gifts. You don't have to charm us with food, or songs, or ravishing good looks. Just think of all those years of your lives you used to waste, working all those long and tedious hours just to seduce a mare for your own, when now, you can have all the loving that you ever wanted just from the push-" She demonstrated. "-of a button."

Her victim's cock-tube pulsed with another wave of intensity, and the (un?)lucky stallion bucked his hips, making muffled moaning noises through his food-tube. Rarity straightened up, smiling around the circle as she waited for the other stallions to follow her example. Her face fell when none did. "No?" she said. "Then what? What could you possibly get out there that you couldn't in here?" She pondered this angrily. "Is it the thrill of the hunt? The cruelty of stalking a filly for yourself, tricking her into bending over for you, taking her against her will? Is that it!?" She clutched a hand to her chest. "No. No, I refuse to believe it. You are simply misguided. But I will help you. You're going to learn that my way is better. And then... then, you will finally be happy."

Turning away, she rifled through her notes some more. "Outside, outside, Sequin and Lacy gone, so much rudeness... Oh?" She perked up. "Oh, but Mr. Cake, you have been seeing your wife! Didn't you recognize her?"

She strode to the machine and fiddled with its top, pressing a quick sequence of buttons. The moist pressure of Strawberry faded, and a pair of confident hands took her place. Lucky's heart lurched. This was a routine he'd committed to memory a long time ago; five minutes or so of stroking and sucking, trailing down into the Satiator's best boobjob and then loose, squishy anal. He'd named the mare behind it Blueberry, but now knew that he would never be able to unsee the face of Mrs. Cake as she expertly sucked his cockhead through her plump lips. "She said this always used to be your favourite," Rarity said, her voice echoing. " Now you can have her this way any time you like. Isn't this what you married her for, after all?"

She stepped away much more brightly. "And then we have... more nonsense, more nonsense, and... Ah, at last! 'More threesomes.'" She stopped on her way out to pat one of the stallions on the head. "You see, everypony? Toe Tapper is honest about what he wants. At least one of you will be getting an appropriate Hearth's Warming gift. I do hope that all of you will learn from his example. You'll be getting plenty of new roommates in the new year, so I expect you all to be model stallions by then."

Rarity left them, and the lights went out - all of them. All that remained was the faint, grim light of their glowing cushions, and the strangled sound of Mr. Cake weeping as his wife sucked off the six stallions in the circle all at once. This was all that they had. And this, Lucky began to see, was all there was ever going to be.

Time passed.

Time... passed.

Lucky slept fitfully that night. He thrashed in his bonds as much as he could, uselessly feeling his guts squish against the tube inside him as he tried again and again to roll over. Rage fluttered around through his limbs, searching for any escape, any- but what was there to do? Against this oppression, this insanity, what use was even the strongest muscle? All he could manage was to clench his fists and cry out, one defiant croak that came out as a low moan as it echoed back into his mouth. Then he fell back, even this leaving him too weak to fight further.

He did not weep. Any fluids he had were needed more by his aching balls. Instead he simply closed his eyes and let the darkness take him.

And then- he could never know, but he told himself it was at the stroke of midnight- a noise.

He awoke, not knowing why at first. Something was different; something there, and something gone. He rolled his head. There was movement nearby, a faint breathing unlike any he was used to hearing. And his body... something was different on his body. A chill passed over him and he startled fully awake as he realized what it was. A tube was still stickily gripping his dick, but that was all it was doing. There was no grasping, no suction, no ever-present vibration to keep him aroused even in sleep.

The Satiator had been turned off.

With the faintest of hoofsteps, his savior came into view. Coco Pommel leaned over him, lit up in a dreamlike blue by the cushions, her face downturned with concentration and grief. Carefully, she grasped Lucky's feeding tube and slowly twisted it. The material inside his mouth contracted into itself, allowing him to widen his jaw and let the tube slowly flop out of him. He gasped for breath, taking a sweet gulp of the dry basement air, only for a trembling hand to clap over his mouth. Coco shook her head rapidly and pressed a finger against her lips, eyes wide with fear. Lucky nodded. She took her hand away and he breathed in again, more slowly. He made a grin his thanks, and despite the sadness on her face, she managed to smile back.

Coco vanished for a moment, bending down to retrieve something. When she reappeared, she was holding a fork and a plate, which held something Lucky couldn't make out. Slowly, making sure not to spill a single crumb, Coco took a forkful of food and held it out to Lucky, who obediently opened his mouth for her. The moment the first drop touched his tongue, grateful tears came to his eyes. It was exactly what he'd asked for: One night without sex and A slice of Hearth's Warming cherry pie.

They went through the entire slice this way, with Coco occasionally dabbing Lucky's mouth and chest with a silken napkin. Every bite was a struggle to remain silent; each juicy cherry, each flake of crust, each drop of syrup was an explosion of bliss, one which he knew would make the gruel to come taste all the more bitter. His refined taste buds could tell that the pie was store-bought, possibly even made by the same mare who'd ridden them all anally just hours ago, but nothing could have prevented him from declaring it the best meal he'd ever had. Midway through he started sobbing, letting tears flow freely down his cheeks, but Coco just wiped him clean again with a warm smile.

When they were finished, Coco put the plate down again. She glanced at the stairs and bit her lip, some of her terror returning. Then, even more carefully than before, she reached out and untied one of Lucky's hands. She immediately jerked back, as though afraid that he might grab her, but visibly relaxed when he made no movement. With his arm free, she pushed out his desk as far as it would go and pulled herself onto the chair, steadying herself with her palm on his chest. Fully-clothed, she slid down and pressed herself against him, curling up tightly against his side.

Lucky's heart melted. She fit perfectly into the crook of his arm, her head nestling comfortably on his chest, as though he had been made to hold her. He wrapped his arm around her and shivered as she drew even closer; it had been so long since he'd felt real fabric on his skin, or the touch of any living thing that hadn't been meant to control him. He buried his face in her mane and breathed in her scent, squeezing her gently when she sniffled. She was so small; not bouncy and buttery like every other mare lately, but hard and fragile as a tiny bird. Her hands were thin and coarse from needlework, her skinny limbs malnourished, her breasts so flat he barely registered them through her shirt. But she was beautiful. Even though he couldn't fully see her, and even though his dick didn't even stir at her touch, he understood then and there that she was the most beautiful mare in the entire world.

She shifted again. With a small sigh, Coco reached across his chest and pulled out the knot on Lucky's other wrist. All he did with this freedom was to wrap both arms around her, holding her as she clung to him, taking her turn to cry into his chest. If he wanted to, he reflected, he could probably overpower her. Even weakened as he was, he was still twice her size. Or just a few whispered words and she might set him free on her own. They could run away together, disappear into the night, leave this place behind... what did they have to lose?

But no. Who would take them in? Who in the wide, wide world of Equestria could they trust? He'd barely glimpsed the reality of what the town he'd loved had turned into, but he knew without a doubt that Rarity would waste no time hunting him down. If this was what she considered generous, what would she consider punishment? No. He trusted that Coco was a clever mare, and brave beyond measure too. If escape for them was possible, it was what she would have tried.

But they had this. These fleeting touches, this brief warmth, the tears that neither of them needed words to understand. He knew it wouldn't last. The greatest mercy she could give him was that she would be gone when he woke up. But he held her, and she held him, and they cradled one another until sleep took them both. And no matter what the future held for them, they would always have this night. In this madhouse world where either of them could have sex with any stallion or mare they chose, for this one, precious night, neither of them felt like they were alone.