Chapters She had followed the instructions and it was late evening now as she approached the old oak tree at the edge of town. Scootaloo slowed down and got off her scooter as she looked around for Sweetie. She looked down again at the folded up letter, unfolding it and reading it one last time.
Scootaloo,
I’ve had a crush on you and I think I like you like you… and it’s hard to admit it but when you get this letter you’ll know and I’ll have to meet you at the oak tree before the schoolhouse… and if you feel the same about me, then show up after supper.
-Sweetie
The note was rather simple, but it’d gotten the point across and Scootaloo had come to tell Sweetie she felt the same. However, she wasn’t really sure what they were supposed to do next. They were already best friends, and what would Apple Bloom think if they stopped spending time with her too?
As she stood there and wondered about it, a pony grabbed her around the neck and began choking her. Scootaloo panicked, flapping her wings and flailing her legs at the unknown assailant. She tried to scream out for help, looking to the sky for some sign of her hero Rainbow Dash. But Dash hadn’t been seen in days.
Scootaloo caught sight of Lotus picking up her scooter and helmet and walking off. It didn’t make sense, why would Lotus just walk away while Scootaloo was being attacked?
Everything in the town had gone sideways since Rarity made that horrible mistake, and as Scootaloo lost consciousness she just hoped Sweetie Belle was okay.
Scootaloo woke up and moaned, her throat sore and her back aching against cold stone flooring. She rubbed her throat before getting to her hooves and looking around. She was in a small room maybe a couple meters wide and deep, entirely made of stone and brick. There was a small drain in the middle and she wasn’t sure what it was for.
Upon looking up, her eyes made out a faint glint. There wasn’t any proper lighting in the room, but there was a crack near the top of the door that some light was shining through. That single beam of light revealed new secrets to her as her eyes adjusted. There was a shower head on the wall, as well as some bolts and a couple chains.
Scootaloo gulped, she’d heard once in Cheerilee’s class about not taking candy from strangers who might want to foalnap you, but she’d never heard of anypony around Ponyville being foalnapped.
The door slowly opened and she backed away from it, tripping over a chain wrapped around her hind leg. Scootaloo looked down and realized there was a shackle around her leg that chained her to the wall. The chain was rather short, having been designed not to be long enough to choke oneself with.
As the door finished opening, Scootaloo couldn’t believe who walked in.
“Sweetie Belle?”
She shook her head, horn glowing as she levitated a dimly lit shape into the room with her.
“You’ve gotta get outta here before the foalnapper gets back! Get help!” Scootaloo stumbled towards her until the chain pulled taut. “Please, Sweetie, say something!”
Sweetie growled and swung the object she had been holding in her magic. The plank of wood hit Scootaloo square in the jaw, knocking her into the nearby wall.
The loud cracking sound that was made was drowned out by the ringing in Scootaloo’s ears. She could barely see or stand due to the shock of being hit, but finally managed to get up to her legs.
“W-why?”
There was another deafening thud as the wooden club hit Scootaloo in the back of the head, sending her muzzle-first into the floor. It took much longer this time for her to recover. Just looking at her hoof made her nauseous, like she was seeing two hooves instead of one.
While fighting the urge to vomit, Scootaloo began to crawl away from the deranged attacker, who couldn’t possibly be the filly who had invited her out to confess her love. As she crawled away with her back turned, the plank of wood came down again, snapping a bone in her wing.
“Gah! Stop it! St—” Scootaloo felt like she was choking and suddenly vomited onto the ground. She gasped for breath, drooling as her body tried to recover.
A loud snapping sound filled the room as the wood hit with enough force to shatter, splintering into dozens of pieces over Scootaloo’s head. She landed on her side in her vomit, legs twitching, and made no attempt to stand. Her ears rang and her eyes went unfocused as all color seemed to drain from the world.
“You disgust me, worm. Just look at you. Pitiful. And you actually thought I could love a waste of time like you?” Sweetie tossed the love note into the puddle of vomit right in front of Scootaloo.
Seeing the letter land in her filth took a minute to register, and it took even longer for Scootaloo’s assaulted mind to put the pieces together. She opened her mouth wordlessly as she realized Sweetie had lured her here to beat her up. “No…” Scootaloo gulped, and continued to murmur to herself in disbelief.
“Death would be too good for you. All you filthy Pegasi are the same. You don’t know your place. Well believe me, you will learn yours.” Sweetie gave Scootaloo a final parting gift in the form of a large splinter stabbed into her flank. She then left without another word.
Scootaloo couldn’t stop gasping like a fish out of water as she sobbed into the pool of vomit. A few drops of blood that had pooled in her ear began to run down her face, and her entire head ached worse than any crash she’d ever been in. She couldn’t seem to get her body to obey her commands and just lay there.
The whole time, her flank had a sharp pain from the splinter of wood driven into it, and she was laying on a broken wing. Her whole body screamed out in pain but all she could feel was the pressure of each heartbeat in her head.
There was a sudden burning sensation on her flank, and Scootaloo didn’t even try to flinch away from the pain, nor did she bother to look who it was. Seconds later, the old pipes in the stone wall began to creak, and water sprayed into the room.
The purpose of the drain was obvious now, not that Scootaloo had the energy to care. The blood, vomit, and tears were washed to the center of the room and down into the sewers. Scootaloo laid there as good as dead as icy cold water cleaned her.
This time, when the water shut off and a pony walked in, Scootaloo managed to tilt her head to see who it was. Aloe, one of the spa pony sisters, had walked into the small room. Scootaloo tried to gesture for help, but all she managed was a pained whimper.
Without a word, Aloe began to treat Scootaloo.She bandaged Scootaloo’s wing and treated the wound the splinter had left in its wake. After looking at Scootaloo’s head, blood still trickling from her ear, she sighed and left the room without bothering to dry her off.
Scootaloo didn’t know why she didn’t help her, but part of her recalled seeing Lotus and somehow she knew this whole nightmare must have been caused by them. Sweetie was too nice, and so Scootaloo rationalized that all of it was their fault, and Sweetie was a pawn. She was sure of it.
As she began to fall asleep the icy water turned on again. Every time the water turned off and she started to dry off in the damp air, the water would turn on again. It continued the entire night, and Scootaloo didn’t get a single minute of sleep.
Deep down she hoped somepony would come to save her, but a small voice in her head told her that nopony would.
Author's Note
More Scootabuse? Vote in the comments below!
Author's Note
"It needs to be about 20% darker" - Rainbow Dash, 2016
2. Opal II
Scootaloo was shivering from the last ice-cold shower that had blasted through the room. She had finally taken the time to bother looking up, finding four nozzles aimed to ensure the entire room got drenched at regular intervals. She stared at the door and considered trying to open it, but with her splitting headache she didn’t even want to move.
As the door creaked open, the shivering pegasus flinched and twitched her injured leg. The bloody wound had started to scab over, but the stabbing pains into her muscle remained. It had been one night, or maybe two, that she had been in here suffering. It was hard to tell time with the constant and steady jolts of pain in her head.
Sweetie walked in, carrying something with her magic. It looked like a short rope less than a hoof’s length long. Before Scootaloo could ask what it was, or beg mercy, she saw that it was a collar as it flashed under her neck and wrapped around.
There was an increasing tightness as the collar was fastened shut. Designed by unicorns for more rowdy pets, this one had no buckle or mechanism for Scootaloo to try and unlock. Instead, the leather collar made from some unfortunate animal had two metal ends that magically fused together. Then, the magic caused the leather to pull inward towards the sealed end caps, tightening it down.
It took a moment before Scootaloo realized the collar hadn’t stopped tightening. She gasped and began to cough as the collar tightened down to the point that the immense pressure on her neck triggered her to gag. In Between her chest heaving she tried to breathe, but Sweetie had applied a noose more so than a collar.
“There, Opal two . You may have made me lose my sister and my cat, you may have made the whole town pity me like some broken filly, but I will make you suffer and beg to be my pet, to want to die but not bother to ask knowing I won’t grant your wish.”
Scootaloo began to get to her shaky hooves, one foreleg uselessly pawing at the collar as the veins on her neck bulged out from the pressure.
Sweetie either didn’t notice or didn’t care, as she continued her diatribe, addressing the wall behind Scootaloo and not even bothering to let her gaze drift downward the few degrees it needed to make eye contact.
“So, how can I make you the perfect pet I asked myself? Well, I could stand here and tell you, but why don’t I show you instead what a good cat is?”
There was the sound of rusty metal wheels being pulled along the ground into the room. The stainless steel surgical tray clattered against the many instruments sitting on it. Scootaloo looked at it in horror, backing up a step before her legs wobbled and gave out. She landed on her rump, pain shooting through her injured leg, and lungs beginning to burn as they struggled hard to force tiny amounts of air through the compressed trachea.
Sweetie finally made contact with Scootaloo, who wished she hadn’t. There was no sign of sympathy or remorse in those eyes as they stared right into her soul. A pink and black aura began to glow around her horn and eyes, the colors swirling and mixing together as they flowed down onto one of Scootaloo’s wings.
With a soft popping sound, the feather was pulled harshly out of the wing, a bit of blood starting to trickle out of it. Another feather was plucked, more like a chicken to be cooked and eaten by a gryphon then the proud feathers of a pegasus.
As she continued to defeather her pet, Scootaloo began twitching and kicking her legs. Her broken wing was having the feathers plucked now, causing immense burning sensations to travel down the wing, through her spine. Her tail twitched back and forth in response, and the struggling made what little air she was getting insignificant.
Her lungs began to burn again and the room started to spin.
“I had considered anesthesia but I checked with Fluttershy, she said worms like you weren’t worth wasting medicine on. A little suffocation will dull the pain just as well.”
Scootaloo hardly registered what she said, some part of her knowing Sweetie was just taunting her. It felt like her eyes were bulging out of her head and she could feel her face flush with blood which was being pumped through her arteries, but couldn’t return to the heart due to the collar collapsing all the veins in her neck. The pressure continued to build until each heartbeat sent a tiny jolt of painful pressure into her already aching head.
Sweetie slid a number four scalpel off the surgical instruments table. There was no pomp and circumstance as her magic grasped the left wing like a vice, crushing the hollow bones and joints that made up her wing. Scootaloo screamed at the top of her lungs, a pained and soft whistling all that could be heard.
Before she could fully comprehend this crushing pain, the scalpel sliced into the base of the wing. It slid around the circumference of the appendage, slicing the flesh cleanly away from the bone. Sweetie then jabbed the scalpel into the joint and used her magic to leverage the metal tool, popping the bont out of the socket.
The next part was far worse than any pain Scootaloo had ever known times a thousand. Sweetie yanked at the bloody stump, and tore the wing clean off. The tendons, ligaments, and most painfully, nerves, that hadn’t been severed, were roughly torn apart. The electric jolt of pain caused Scootaloo to see black, nearly losing consciousness if not for a sudden but temporary relief of the pressure on her neck to allow one good gasp of air, which was just as quickly trapped in her lungs by the tightening collar.
Scootaloo felt the stabbing pain of the scalpel, not having noticed Sweetie continue her work as if she were mutilating a Filly doll from Maretel. The wing was ripped out and the pressure trying to escape the former pegasus’ lungs compressed her heart.
Her body reacted at once, heart rate plummeting from the increased pressure around it. The veins in her chest collapsed, and the beating heart began to pump nothing at all. The filly felt a coldness creeping through her limbs as blackness overtook her sight. There was nothing she could do as she lost consciousness.
Finally she felt her body twitch and spasm, once every five to ten seconds. Though she couldn’t fathom what was happening, it was her body’s desperate last attempts to breathe before total organ failure.
Sweetie finally looked down at the pegasus, operation complete. Before her lay a bloody mess of feathers on a now smooth back. Thick black sutures had closed the small wounds on her back, hiding the fact she had once been a pegasus unless one looked closely.
She also saw the eyes bulging out, and the way Scootaloo’s mouth was twitching open and closed, out of rhythm with the chest which seemed to rise and fall to a different beat.
Opal two was clearly about to die. Sweetie looked down at the pathetic beast, kicking her hard in the chest. She knew she couldn’t have a slave pet if she let this pathetic worm die, but on the other hoof, she honestly didn’t think this pathetic worm was worth saving.
Scootaloo blacked out at last, a small mercy as her captor stood over her deciding her fate.
Sweetie laid down on her sister’s bed, which was more than twice as big as her twin bed. Since Rarity had been sent to a mental institution, Sweetie had been spending more and more time in Rarity’s room.
She was looking through Rarity’s possessions when she came across a leather bound diary. Opening it up to the first page revealed writing more like a filly had written it than a mare. It must have been her private diary since she was young.
With no sister around to tell her not to read the secrets within, Sweetie laid the book on the bed and began to read.
I got my cutie mark today, and the events surrounding it were so… strange and exhilarating that I just have to write them down. Even if it could get me in trouble, part of me knows it is important to have this, to revel in the events that happened and relive them through this diary.
Aloe, Lotus, and their sister Vera were picking on me again at school today. Of all the ways I had thought to get revenge on them, I never thought I’d get the chance.
Then I found it.
A strange skull, flawless in every way. It wasn’t a pony, nor any other creature I could think of. It was clear as glass, smooth, and the light seemed to dance around inside of it. I had been practicing my gem finding spell for magic show and tell, and came across it in the woods outside of school.
I put it in my saddlebag and began to head back to class to show off my treasure when Aloe stepped out from behind a tree. “That’s a pretty little gem you’ve got there,” she said.
“Hand it over, or else,” Lotus had said. There were a few other threats as soon three fillies had surrounded me.
That was when I felt my magic surge. My adrenaline was pumping and the skull it seemed to… amplify my magic well beyond what I ever thought possible. Part of me thought that this power rivaled the alicorn Princess Celestia.
“No.” It was the only word I said in reply as they began to close in on me. They knew my magic wasn’t strong enough to handle more than one of them… well, it normally wasn’t strong enough.
I lifted the nearest rock in my magic and bashed Lotus in the side of the head, so hard there was a loud crack as her neck snapped and her skull caved in. She hit the ground with a sort of wet thud.
Before Aloe could register what happened, I was gripping her throat so tight that I saw her eyes actually begin to bulge out of her head. Part of me was enjoying this, it was just like a fantasy I had once to have the three bullies hanged. I kept my grip until Aloe stopped kicking.
Oh, but what of Vera, my future self may ask as I relive this most wonderful day? She did not escape my grasp either, for while I strangled her sister to death, my magic was powerful enough to grip her hooves, cementing her to the ground. As the warmth flowed from the crystal skull into me I took greater and greater joy forcing Vera to watch her sisters die.
And then I turned to her. I floated the skull and set it down on the ground. Vera began to scream, the blood curdling kind that’s worse than nails on a chalkboard.
Angry, I snapped. I don’t even know what spell I cast or how, but the effect was immediate. Vera’s lips closed and began to fuse together, in barely a second there was no longer an opening for her mouth. Her jaw closed as the skin pulled taut, and then the crawling skin spread over her nose, blocking off her ability to breathe.
Oh, to watch her paw at her face and suffocate, completely free of my vice-like grip on her neck. She even took a stick and tried to puncture a hole in her skin, instead just leaving a deep gash and crying like the pathetic mewling fool she was.
And then the skull flashed purple, the woods turned dark around us and I had the sense I was no longer near the school, I was somewhere else. A chilly wind blew by us, cold as ice, and I saw the dead bodies of the three fillies flop belly-up and rise into the air.
I looked at the skull, stared more like, and as I looked into its eyes I felt something amazing. The power which it had let me taste, had let me use to kill the bullies, left the skull and entered me.
It was too much magic, my horn burned and I thought it would explode, but in that moment whatever magic or spirit was in the skull took control of me, finishing some ritual more ancient than the pony race.
A loud cracking sound like large branches being snapped in two filled the area. The fillies rib cages were ripped open along the sternum, and in a flash of purple energy their still-beating hearts were yanked out.
Another loud boom, this time in the distance, as a rainbow colored hue washed over the sky. The rainboom, as I now know it to be called, added to the magical ritual some missing ingredient.
The part of me that used to be the scared little filly wondered how they were still beating, but at this point the old parts of me were all but gone. It feels so indescribable to have this much power that I couldn’t help but encourage the spirit to do as it pleases.
One by one I began to eat their hearts. The blood spilled down my neck as if I was biting into peeled oranges and letting the juice run down into my fur. I didn’t care. With each heart I consumed I felt a blazing pain on my flank. A diamond formed, one for each sister, as I bound their souls to me for eternity. Or perhaps to the skull, I’m not sure so I kept the skull, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
Remember what it felt like to kill them? It was nothing compared to what the skull did next. It sealed their chests closed and the fillies hit the ground with a thud, rolled over, and stood up. They were alive, or at least they looked alive. They were more of an empty vessel, controlled remotely by their souls. Their souls in turn, are bound to my will. I don’t know how I know this, but I know they have to obey me. I can hear their thoughts, but only when I want to.
You may not understand still when you reflect on this journal why it did what it did next, I was a filly after all, and knew as much about sex as I knew about quantum physics.
There was a stretching pain in my groin and I grunted, stumbling forward as I got more control over my body. I looked down to see a large penis swinging back and forth below my belly, bumping my legs.
Aloe, Lotus, and Vera all lined up and turned around, presenting themselves to me. I knew I could have any one of them, or all of them, but part of me still despised them and that anger and hatred seemed to be what the skull wanted me to focus on.
So I took a nearby stick and jammed it into Vera’s cunt. I say jam and mean it literally, so my future self can remember with glee what it felt like. For the stick to hit her slit dry and tear down the flesh on the sides as it was jammed in. The blood that gushed out, and the screams of agony from Vera’s soul as she was forced to feel every ounce of pain assaulting what was once her body.
I turned to Aloe next. With her pink fur you’d think her the most feminine of the bunch but quite the opposite, she was the meanest and most tomboyish filly I knew. I took the rock I had used earlier and began bashing her skull in. She laid down obediently and took the beating. Everytime I smashed her skull in I felt her scream, and I laughed. The intoxicating power of the moment! Oh, how I hope my words do it justice.
And as I beat her, she healed. Slowly at first, but more quickly as her head began to resemble a pancake more and more. I stopped beating her just to watch her regenerate and stand up.
Which left Lotus. Oh, I hardly need to tell myself about the crush I had on her, the nights I’d spend imagining that she was in love with me too. I’d imagine her sisters forcing her to be mean, when really we both had this affection for each other deep down.
So I mounted her. My new appendage, already slick with precum, slid into her pussy without so much as a sound from Lotus. My member was too big for her, in fact it was likely the size of an adult stallion’s member, but I knew I could hurt her and she could heal. I wanted to hurt her, to make love a painful emotion so every time she thought about it she would feel nothing but sorrow.
I pulled back to gain momentum and slammed my cock forward, burying it to the medial ring. Using my magic to aid me, I pulled back and slammed it in again, tearing the cervical opening wide apart. The head of my cock now rested in her womb, my balls slapping against her ass.
I began to fuck her, to listen to her and her sisters scream for release as the feeling of pleasure grew inside my groin. I don’t know what was more arousing, to listen to them as they began to beg for death, or to watch their lifeless husks stand there for my abuse.
In the end, I raped all three of them. I plan to do it again, sometime, but for now things must appear normal. So as the ritual ended and I found myself back in the woods, I ran home to safely hide the skull away under a loose floorboard.
The fillies and I returned to school, the magic only letting their souls control their bodies in ways that I subconsciously approved of. Oh, Aloe could look at a pencil and grip it tightly, but she couldn’t even point it at me let alone try to stab me. Her thoughts were filtered out before leaving my body for hers.
It will always be one of the happiest days of my life, the day these three souls were bound to me to do my bidding. I will have to come up with an excuse for the Cutie Mark. I told everyone in class it was from my gem finding spell. I’ll need more of a backstory than that to cover up what happened.
And that is all I’ll write for now, I’m still getting used to the sensation of controlling three ponies in addition to myself. It’s a bit exhausting, but I am assured by a voice deep in my mind I’ll get used to it.
Sweetie bent a corner of the journal over to mark her place and closed it. This would go a long way to explaining her cutie mark. There were four diamonds, and three must represent Aloe, Lotus, and Vera, who Sweetie had quickly gotten used to controlling. The real question was who is the fourth diamond for? And how had this magic passed from Rarity to her if her sister was locked away?
She didn’t know, and the part of her that wanted to know was outshadowed by the part of her that enjoyed making Scootaloo suffer. It was more Dash’s fault than Scootaloo’s what happened, but no reason not to blame the worthless runt. She could perform the ritual, make Scootaloo a soulless husk, but part of her refused. Sweetie wanted to make Scootaloo obey her every word without thought or hesitation of her own free will.
