Author's Note
One more time: read at your own peril! Do it!
Take Two
The late bird that she was, waking up had never been Twilight’s forte. Yet this time, already before she opened her eyes she could tell getting up might be the biggest mistake of her life – in addition to being the last. Very carefully, she cracked one eyelid.
She saw herself. But there was something wrong with the picture. She had a somewhat partial, hollow look; as if her existence had been spread thinner than usual. Only as the other eye blinked open did she realize she was looking at her image in a glass. A huge wall of glass, spreading all over her like a jar.
Like a jar. Her first coherent thought brought along a score of fresh ones. There had been a fight; with a dragon. It had had something to do with smoke. And with Fluttershy. The memories were all wrong; distorted and impossible. They made no sense. They–
Her face fell like a curtain, revealing the void stage in all its emptiness. She remembered what had happened to Fluttershy. In her dreams, that is. Yes. A dream. A Nightmare. A horrible, terrible nightmare – that’s what it was. Not a memory.
Then what am I doing in a glass jar? said a quiet voice in the back of her head. She told it to shut up.
Suddenly, the world outside the glass shifted. A massive shadow, like a skyscraper from Manehattan, moved in the darkness. Breathless, Twilight followed it drift past her jar. It made no sound, but the fact only increased the eery terror of the sight. Nothing that big ought to be able to move that quietly.
The shadow stopped, convulsed as if inflating, and the next thing Twilight knew was that she had become blind. Blazing light exploded in her vision, scorching her eyes even as she shielded them with a hoof. She yelped and covered, expecting the world to end.
When she dared to look around again, all darkness had vanquished to the far corners of the… whatever massive space it was that she was in. Her first impression was of a cave, but there was something way too homely about it to make it just that. In all frankness it seemed like somepony’s kitchen, with the exception that everything was a dozen times bigger than usual. Including the inhabitant.
The word “dragon” lanced through Twilight and left no scar behind. Her shock was too pure for that. The mighty creature moved around the place, still making no sound, apparently checking that all the huge candles it had lit were burning properly. Satisfied, it turned to the wood stove about the size of Ponyville town hall, and with one breath ignited an inferno in the firebox. Next, it turned to Twilight.
“Nononononono,” she muttered, wide eyed, as the beast extended it’s enormous, clawed hand towards her jar. Her knees buckled as its shadow cloaked her, but her eyes could not tear from the sight. They could only watch as the hand passed her and reached for something else on the same shelf instead. Her relief knew no bounds, up to the point she saw what the dragon had grasped instead – or whom.
Twilight could not tell how she had missed it before, but the same shelf harbored four other jars. One was empty, but the other three, while hardly full, certainly contained something. Applejack, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash all banged the transparent walls of their prisons, shouting something to each other and to Twilight. All she could hear was her own breathing; her ragged, rapid breathing which she could control no better than the imminent reality no nightmare could hope to compete with.
The dragon plucked Dash’s jar like a ripe fruit from a branch. Inside, the pegasus bounced from wall to wall, unable to fly in her cramped prison. The way her mouth worked, she was shouting herself mute. The dragon paid no heed, but set the jar on the kitchen table while bending to rummage in the cupboard next to the heating stove. In a moment it produced what Twilight could only regard as an oversized frying pan.
A knot pulsed in her stomach. The pieces of the big riddle, all understandable in and on themselves, were starting to form a picture beyond understanding. The jars, the stove, the fire, the kitchen, the pan – it all added to a single, ultimate conclusion. The premises were solid, the reasoning was flawless, the conclusion irrefutable. The logical part of Twilight, always ready to pride itself in the compilation of the holy trinity, now hit the wall that was the rest of her, all frozen into a mass of denial, repulsion and rejection. It made no sense. It all made all too much sense. It made Twilight a deadlock, the last operative function of whom was to observe.
Dash, too, seemed to have caught up with the unfolding of the events. She banged the jar’s wall in frenzy, kicking with front and hindlegs both. It made no difference. She was trapped like a butterfly under a pin. As she thrashed around, the dragon resumed to put the pan on the stove, pour some oil on it, along with some other ingredients it picked from other shelves and cupboards littering the walls.
In Twilight’s mind, the clash of unstoppable force and immovable object finally resulted in a short circuit. She couldn’t let this happen, even if she already knew it could not happen; she would stop the impossible no matter what it itself had to say about it. Backing against a wall, she focused all her energy on the tip of her horn, aimed and shot a beam of energy at the opposite end.
The missile hit and immediately ricocheted in a ninety degree angle to hit the jar above Twilight. From there it sprang around like a bing bong ball before finally losing its momentum and shrivelling into nonexistence. Twilight stared at the spot it had extinguished in, stunned. She tried again, this time almost burning her own mane in the attempt.
Impossible, she thought, for the hundredth time. It was my most powerful attack – the glass can’t be that strong! I didn’t even scratch it! She touched the glass with her hoof, peering at the diaphanous surface. When she focused, she could sense a faint trace of energy humming inside it. Magic…? How…?
Her focus shifted momentarily from the glass to what was happening beyond it. The oil had reached boiling point, and greenish-yellow pearls jumped happily in the air in their scores, telltale enough of the high temperature therein. The dragon poured more ingredients – some smashed plants and spices by the look of it – into what begun to resemble a soup of sorts. Then it opened one of the clay basins on a separate table, reached in and spread a handful of flour next to Dash’s jar. Next, the dragon went for Dash herself.
Twilight knew enough about cooking to get that the beast intended to bread the pegasus before frying her in the sauce. By now this was simply another impossible thought for her, which is why she could comparatively calmly ponder how the dragon was going to make the flour stick. Dash was a slick pony only figuratively.
As the dragon raised the jar in a clear attempt to open it, Twilight saw how Dash readied herself to zap out.
“You can do it!” cried Twilight, rearing against the glass. “You can do it, Dash! You’re the fastest pony I know; the fastest in Ponyville! Do it!”
If Dash heard her, she paid no attention. Instead she crouched as the massive claws closed on the cork, swirled… only to give the whole bottle a good shake.
Oh no, thought Twilight. Dash bounced in the bottle not unlike Twilight’s spell had a minute ago, bruising herself against the hard glass over and over again. Twilight grimaced with every blow. I have to do something. Anything. But how can I–
The answer hit her like a brick, and the plain simplicity of it made her blush. She could teleport, couldn’t she? Why hadn’t she thought about it earlier? Now Dash was suffering because of her idiocy…
The dragon stopped rattling the pegasus, who slipped on the bottom, apparently unconscious. Twilight winced and swiped the shame from her mind. The familiar tingling feeling arrived in its stead, boding immaterialization. She picked a spot right outside the jar, focused, closed her eyes and…
Nothing. The spell fissured, leaving a mild headache behind. Desperate, she tried again, to no avail. Logic told her that, if the jar could stop her missiles, it could probably stop other spells as well. She let out a wild snarl of frustration and rage, which soon turned into a meek yelp as she saw what the dragon was doing now.
It had opened the cork and now let the stunned pegasus easily slip along the jar and right into its gaping maw. Just like Fluttershy. Oh my Celestia. She’s going to end up just like Fluttershy. Swallowed alive… Celestia help us…
Dash glided into the dragon’s mouth like a tiny treat. The long tongue welcomed her warmly, pulling her beyond Twilight’s vision. She could still imagine her friend’s condition though, for the dragon chewed rather visibly, rolling its morsel from cheek to cheek. Twilight could even see the occasional small bulge press against the scaly skin, only to softly sink back.
It was then that Twilight realized the dragon was idly watching her while enjoying its food. When it gave her a massive wink, the nature of the beast’s game dawned on her in all its absurdity. It’s putting up a show. It’s going to eat us all, one by one, right before our eyes. How can anything alive be so cruel? She looked at her two remaining friends, who had witnessed everything she had. Their faces reflected her feelings exactly. Mascara made Rarity cry black tears, and Applejack was pale as fresh snow.
Movement in the corner of her eye drew Twilight back to the gruesome spectacle. The dragon bended over the pile of flour and, with care one might almost call delicate, spat the pegasus into it. A white cloud puffed as she fell on the heap.
“Dash!” Twilight cried involuntarily. By now the rational part of her mind, refusing to shut down just yet, said the jars probably blocked all noises in both directions. “Fly for it, Dash! Please! Dash!”
The pegasus moved still, but alarmingly weakly. Coming around inside a dragon’s jaws probably wasn’t an ideal wake up. She raised one of her wings, and Twilight gasped as she saw the strands of saliva spread between the opening feathers. If Dash was to fly, it would not be with those wings.
This clearly had been one of the dragon’s reasons for tasting Dash, aside from showing off. It also meant the flour basically glued itself to her fur as the beast rolled her around with one finger. Again its moves were strangely gentle, as if the point was to keep her alive and well as long as possible. Of all the reasons for nausea Twilight had, this was perhaps the most pressing. We’re not just food for it; we’re playthings. Little toys to do as one pleases with. For its pleasure alone.
Against all the odds, Dash regained some of her inner fire. She struggled against the finger, trying to roll away or kick it. All it gained her was a smirk from her tormentor. Soon the once azure pegasus was white as a ghost. Even her coughs were. The dragon picked her up effortlessly and, with care, delivered over the sizzling pan. And then it simply let go.
Twilight’s scream echoed in her prison for the brief fall and long afterwards. Dash’s wings failed her magnificently. She plummeted like a rock right into the sauce, splashing right in the middle of it. Her frantic struggles, which had never stopped, turned agonizing to watch. She writhed on her side, unable to get up. The white coat changed color quickly, sucking in the scorching liquid like a sponge. Gradually, her efforts weakened, then faded. It was all over in seconds.
At least for Dash it was. As she stopped moving, the dragon got hold of a wooden spoon the size of a tree trunk and began stirring the gravy, again with idiosyncratic diligence. Dash’s body was soon covered completely in the sauce, making it barely visible as it floated in the pan, unable to sink due to the shallowness of the fluid. The flour must’ve been a special mix, for as it absorbed the sauce it formed a hard cover around the pegasus, thus protecting her from disintegration.
After a while, the dragon tasted the cooking. Seemingly pleased, it fished Dash’s corpse from the soup with the spoon. It gave it a blow like a kiss, and tucked half of the thing in its mouth. The spoon was pulled back slowly. In her mind, Twilight could hear a long, sucking sound. As the spoon reappeared, it was as clean as it would ever get. Tapping its snout thoughtfully, the dragon started chewing like it had before the breading. Only this time, it was using its teeth, and there were no soft bulges pressed against those reptile cheeks.
Noticing its audience, the dragon suddenly turned to the three remaining ponies and opened its mouth right in front of them. Applejack swirled around to retch, Rarity fainted, but Twilight could only follow the one last thread of sanity that kept her mind together with spit; the thread that was observation. And what she observed, she would remember the rest of her life.
She couldn’t have recognized Dash’s remains from the inside of the dragon’s maw, had she not known they were just that. As it was, she could not but spot a horrible detail wherever her eyes strayed. A part of a wing stuck between teeth; a shred of distantly blue skin hanging from another; some rainbow colored mane on the tongue. There was hardly any blood visible, for it had either mixed in with the gravy or the saliva. For the most part it was just mush. Indifferent, unimportant mass. Like chewed food. That’s what it was. Slightly yucky, but nothing to vomit over.
With a snap, the dragon shut its jaws. It gave Dash a few more chews, probably licking its teeth clean off her, and then took a gulp of the gigantic, underground waterfall that apparently functioned as the kitchen’s natural sink. It gargled, swallowed and gargled again. As it gave another view of its gullet to the ponies, there was not a trace left of the bold pegasus known by the name Rainbow Dash.
At some point, Twilight had stopped screaming, mostly for lack of air. Her ears hadn’t stopped ringing though, and the imperative to observe, to analyse, had never been stronger. It made for a stronger prison than the jar did. She watched as the dragon eyed the two other jars, most likely trying to choose which of the ponies within would be its next victim. Eventually it opted for Applejack, whose jar it set next to Dash’s now empty jar on the kitchen table. Makes sense, heard Twilight herself think. Rarity’s still out of it. It would be no fun at all, eating her like that.
Applejack, unlike Dash, was not thrashing around. Instead she stared. She stared right into the lizard eyes that towered above her. So like her, thought Twilight with fractured amusement. Steadfast to the end.
At first Twilight expected AJ to face her maker in the pan. There was still plenty of both flour and gravy left, after all, so why waste it? Such a studious creature that the dragon obviously was, it would not work against the principles of economy, would it?
It turned out it would. The rest of the gravy was flushed in the waterfall, and the frying pant tucked away into the cupboard from where it came. What replaced it was a medium sized (in the general scale of the kitchen) pot, which was filled halfway from the waterfall and set to boil over the stove. As the water started to heat, the dragon shoved a couple more trees into the fireplace, then went to one of the clay basins again. The one next to the flour container was opened, and the dragon scooped up something which, from afar, looked a bit like yoghurt, or maybe mayonnaise.
As the dragon began to mix the pale goo with some herbs, panic managed to temporarily get an upper hoof in the endless fight inside Twilight’s torn mind. Her breathing convulsed, and the thought of escape surfaced crystal clear from the sea of prey-like terror. She backed up, pawed the floor, and rammed herself against the glass with all her might. The jar didn’t budge, which was to be expected, as the Reason within her noted. Solid glass that it was, the thing must’ve weighed a ton.
On the kitchen table Applejack kept staring, but could not cover the fine sweat that had broken on her coat. The dragon kept throwing sly smiles at her while preparing some concoction in a bowl next to her. Time passed, and the farm pony started pacing back and forth; from there a circle.
“Oh Applejack,” moaned Twilight, who leaned limply against the wall she had been ramming herself against Celestia knew how many times. A handsome bruise on her shoulder was the proof of that. There’s nothing I can do to help her. Nothing in the world. I’ve never felt so helpless, not once in my life. Celestia help me. Help. Help.
The dragon seemed ready to cook whatever inequine fate he had in store for Applejack. As with Rainbow Dash, it picked the pony by the bottle, then delivered her over the pot, which was by now churning happily. Is it going to boil her alive? The bare thought sent indescribable shivers down Twilight’s spine. She recalled how a drop of boiling water had splashed on her hoof as a foal. The blister had itched for days. To imagine that all over your body, red hot… it was unthinkable.
From the look of AJ’s expression, she could very well imagine that. The dragon noticed that, and lowered the bottle slowly over the churning pot, bottom first. At first AJ tried to remain still, but when the floor under her began to cloud, she moved closer to the edge. As the bottom almost touched the water, she rose to her hindlegs. In a few moments she started lifting them in turns in a macabre show of tap dancing. Her hat fell on the floor, and shriveled a bit from the heat.
“You monster!” screamed Twilight. “Monster! If you want to kill her, just do it! Don’t torture her like that! Stop I beg you, I pray to you! Stop! Stop!”
The dragon stopped. The jar was raised, and AJ could again stand on all fours without her hooves melting. It took her three attempts to pick her hat, the way she was shuddering.
Did it hear me? thought Twilight in astonishment. Did it see me? Is there still hope? Oh, Celestia, let me know if there’s still hope! Give me that much! She searched the dragon’s face for signs of empathy, for any compassionate emotion at all. All she got was another toothy grin.
The dragon lifted AJ’s bottle, opened the cork and, with one swift motion, tilted the contents on his palm, which closed like a vice. Only Applejack’s head was visible in the massive fist. She grimaced and coughed, but did not seem to be dying from the pressure. As Twilight was beginning to learn the game the dragon was playing with them, she could only suppose that it had an even more horrible demise in mind for her.
Holding the pony in one hand, the beast now reached for a rack full of long, thin sticks. Food sticks? thought Twilight. Such instruments seemed out of place in a kitchen of a wild, ferocious dragon. On the other hoof, a dragon’s kitchen was out of place no matter which way one thought about it. However, the dragon itself seemed to have no doubt about the function of the tool. It dipped it into the bowl full of yoghurt or whatever, and sucked. Consequently, the stick’s color darkened as the stuff spread from one end to another.
Twilight was all at loss of the dragon’s intention, right up until it posited the other end of the hollow stick in front of AJ’s muzzle. The earth pony had paled almost as much as Dash had after her floury bath. Slowly but inevitably, the straw started to approach her mouth. She struggled, but the iron grip kept her still enough for the thing to press right on her tightly shut lips. It did not stop, and AJ’s eyes squeezed shut in pain.
She’ll either open up or lose her teeth, thought Twilight. Either way, the dragon would get what it wanted, which now had become more than obvious. It is going to stuff her with that stuff. Oh, Celestia… Is there no end to this?
The straw was relentless, and finally forced AJ’s muzzle open. As it did, the dragon rammed the pipe a tiny bit farther, lodging it in a place which had to stress anypony’s limits. But this was only the beginning. The dragon’s chest heaved as it begun blowing the goo from the straw directly into Applejack’s throat. The pony’s eyes were as wide as they would get, and soon turned to reveal their whites. She had to keep on gulping, even as there was no way for her to keep pace with dragon’s lungs. The white, creamy substance ran from her nose, spilled past her lips in gushes. Still there came more; the single straw had more than enough to fill every cavity in the pony twice over.
Yet again Twilight observed every bit of the scene. It wasn’t that she couldn’t stop, or that she wouldn’t have wanted to. The tiny squeaking reason simply told her that, should she turn away, should she wake up from her dream-like trance, the scene would lose its final shade of nightmare, and become reality. That would’ve been the end of her sanity. So she watched. And watched. And watched.
The dragon seemed to decide that AJ was properly stuffed, even though she had consumed barely half of the load reserved for her. Next, the beast lay her on the table, where she collapsed like a sack of potatoes. Another inkling of hopeful spark lit inside Twilight as the beast momentarily turned to the bowl. Now AJ: run! Run like wind! Skip, hop, flee, get away, anything! Do something! Don’t just lay there like a stuffed… apple…
Applejack could not run. She even had trouble breathing. Her belly was grossly swollen, and even her throat bulged suspiciously. Too exhausted even to vomit, she simply lay still, a thin strand of white gunk streaming from her mouth. She resisted none as the dragon picked her up and put into the bottle, which it had filled about halfway with the same goo it had filled her with. She fell into the soft glop like a fat berry into a porridge. Corked again, the next stop of the jar was the pot, where the dragon had to add some more water. Twilight’s last sight of AJ was her floating in a bottle surrounded by boiling water, closed in darkness by the lid.
If the gooey substance had any insulating properties – and Twilight had no illusions that it didn’t – it might take hours for Applejack to perish due to the heat. In the meanwhile, she would gradually stew both from outside and form inside, until she’d eventually turn into a soft, creamy, apple-flavoured morsel. She would spent the last, tormenting moments of her life knowing she was but food; a treat; barely even sustenance. A dessert. In comparison, Dash’s death had almost been merciful. At least it had been swift.
After setting up a hose from the waterfall to the pot ensuring that it would not run out of water anytime soon (while also keeping the temperature within on the borders of bearable), the dragon returned to eye the two remaining ponies. A scaly grin blessed its face as it noticed, along with Twilight, that Rarity was starting to come around.
“No!” Twilight cried while banging the glass. “Take me! Take me instead! I’m ready! I can’t take this anymore! Please, take me!”
She could not say which was more deaf to her pleas: the glass or the dragon. The beast stepped forward and grabbed Rarity in her cage. The pony sobbed mindlessly, huddling on the floor in complete paralysis while the dragon brought her right before its muzzle. It shook the jar a bit, turned it upside down, knocked the side with a claw. All Rarity did was huddle tighter into her fetal position, crying on hysterically. For some reason, this seemed to annoy the dragon; it frowned.
It’s no fun playing with somepony who won’t acknowledge you at all, reasoned Twilight. For the third time, she dared pray there might be hope. Maybe it will get bored with her? Maybe he’s tired playing with us for today? Maybe–
There was no maybe, not with the dragon. That much was obvious from those lips that once more curled into a fiendish grin. It had thought of something. Something really nasty. What’s it going to be? Spit roast? Baking? Raw, like Fluttershy? Paste? The cookbook of Tartarus spread itself in Twilight’s mind, weighing down the shaky bridge between reason and insanity.
Rarity, in her jar, was set on the fateful table. This time, the dragon did not reach for any cupboard, not for any equipment, but walked leisurely in the centre of the room, where both Rarity and Twilight could see it in all its enormous glory. Everything about is was beyond scale; everything from the folded wings to the long, muscular hands, swan-like neck and slender body, which ended in… parts that were also beyond all scales.
It was only now that Twilight got to know the sex of the beast. The sheath on the creature’s pelvis left no room for doubt. Despite everything that had happened thus far, Twilight had to fight against her sense of modesty. Seeing the dragon all laid out introduced a new shade into her palette of surrealism. The issue was not helped by the fact that, right in her view, the dragon begun to stroke himself.
Mesmerized, Twilight followed the erection swell before her. Lizard and dragon anatomy were not her main areas of academic interest, but as of most things, she had learned a bit about that, too. Compared to stallions, male dragon’s genitalia were basically identical, if one skimmed over the colorfulness that was common for the latter. The shapes, too, had general difference, which this specimen more than amply illustrated. The cock’s head was not flat and flared, but more round and pointed, although not sharp by any means. The biggest difference was, again, the size: hung as any stallion might be, they could never compete with a dragon (although relatively speaking equines were generally better off in that region). After all, the thing between the dragon’s legs could easily even fit a pony.
That last thought had nasty, nasty undertone to it. It grew alarming as, reaching what seemed like its full length, the dragon strode towards Rarity. She was still in whatever internal world she had lapsed into, and completely failed to pay attention to what was happening. She’ll notice soon enough, thought Twilight. A moment passed before she realized what she had just thought.
The dragon wasted no time in flopping Rarity from her jar onto his palm. The unicorn curled up into a ball there, too. The dragon appeared to sigh. Next, he snorted a gout of flame over her.
This much managed to catch Rarity’s attention. Her sobbing instantly turned into shrieking as she fought to extinguish the flames, which had mostly caught on her mane and tail. The tail suffered a few scorched hairs, but all she managed to save of her mane were a few, blackened strands. Even those dropped off at the lightest touch. If he had wanted her grilled, she’d be a lot crispier now. So why…?
Twilight got her answer as the dragon seized Rarity by her tail and began lowering her towards the massive cock’s tip. An opening gaped there, pulsing along with the heavy throbs of the organ. Rarity was not even crying anymore. Either her mind had finally snapped or her throat was too sore. Her limbs flailed around, trying to clasp hold of something as the cock gradually became closer. It almost seemed to be starving for her.
And more than that. As Rarity failed to get a grip of anything, reason included, she tried to push the cock out of her way. That got her front hooves sucked in. Her lips were moving, but Twilight had no idea if Rarity actually screaming anymore as the ravenous dick devoured her inch by inch. As her face pressed against it, Twilight saw how her whole body went stiff. Deeper and deeper she went, until all but her hindlegs remained. They stayed eerily still considering what their owner was going through. The dragon appeared to agree, for he poked the legs a bit and yanked her tail. When that failed to incite a reaction, he started jerking himself off with the other hand.
This gave Rarity’s struggles a new life, and visibly notched the dragon’s pleasure. He kept a steady rhythm, either wanking his whole length or rubbing with a thumb the spot where the pony’s wriggles shook his whole member. The sensation of having a living being inside one’s cock was obviously invigorating. The dragon panted, and thick smoke left its nostrils. In the process, Rarity dived all the way inside the throbbing cock, to the point where only her magnificent tail slashed out from the gap. The dragon released his grip on it, letting it swirl aimlessly. He closed his eyes, and squeezed the moderate bulge which Rarity made on his member. In response, the tail went haywire.
After some time of this, the dragon finally clipped the tail clean off, pulled away his hands and followed as the lump travelled down his shaft to the stem, from there disappearing into the girth of his sheath. The long hairs must feel uncomfortable down there, said the unyielding analyticgear of Twilight, in space with her vomiting and shuddering.
Basking in the afterglow of his intense bliss, the dragon checked on AJ by lifting the lid of his pot. The lick he gave to his lips told that he liked what he saw, but chose to let the pony brew a bit more, to bring out the flavours just right. Or so Twilight thought as he glared at the monster that had destroyed four of her friends. But not Pinkie. She must’ve gotten away during the fight, before we were captured. Too bad she didn’t make it in time to bring Celestia here. All the beast has left now is me.
“Come on then!” she exclaimed. “Get on with it! Do what you please! I don’t care anymore what happens to me! Come on!”
Idly caressing his balls, the dragon seemed less than careless of her shouts. He did glance in her direction, and a part of her might’ve sworn he shook his head. In the meantime, his other hand had arrived to the third and last basin on the table. Twilight could only expect that whatever horrible fate would face her, it would come from that basin. For the fourth time today, she was mistaken.
The dragon pulled out another long, thin stick, which ended in a clump of some solid, transparent, pink substance. At first it seemed to be nothing more. Then she saw what lay within.
It was Pinkie. The dragon had impaled her with the same straw he had stuffed Applejack with. This time the beast had gone all the way: the pole in from the pony’s marehood and stuck out from her mouth, bending her to an unnatural, rigid shape, which was emphasised by the slime around her. Some of it dripped on the floor as the dragon inspected his catch with a critical eye. Is she even alive in there? How could she be? Tentatively, the dragon gave Pinkie a long, smooth lick. Smacking his lips contentedly, another lick followed; then another. He made a lollipop out of her!
The dragon brought the whole treat to his mouth and sucked eagerly. The candy was thick, thicker than the stuffing he had used on AJ, but still combined effect of heat and suction dissolved it rapidly under the impaled Pinkie. Twilight followed with baited breath as layer after layer vanished around her, bringing her figure better to sight. She was twitching now; the straw must’ve somehow missed her vital organs. Twilight could not anymore tell if she should be happy or sorrowful about the fact. More likely than not, the dragon fancied to crunch the core of his lollipops.
It turned out there was no need. As the dragon got from mere topping to the pony’s fluffy tail, it melted away to his licks like the rest. The candy had done something to Pinkie’s body. It liquefied with terrible ease, dissolving a bit more every time the dragon’s hungry tongue got at it. Nonetheless, she kept twitching even as her hind legs disappeared. For a while it seemed the dragon would consume her bottom first, saving the head for the last, but apparently he got impatient, and thus bit off Pinkie’s upper body in one easy snap. The rest of her was quickly dispensed with. The last part to remain was her pussy, still clamped around the pole. The dragon slurped it down like an afterthought.
It’s all over. They’re all gone; all my friends. Gone. Eaten. Cooked. Digested. And soon, I will follow. Thank Celestia, it’s about time.Twilight lay on her flank, back towards the beast. He could do anything he wanted with her now; she would not resist. Perhaps she would go down like Rarity that way, but she did not care about that, either.
Without her knowing, the dragon was studying her with narrowed eyes while cleaning his teeth with Pinkie’s remainder straw. Some persistent bits of Dash still inhabited his mouth, bringing an unwelcomed aftertaste along. The pony had been tasty enough, albeit a bit tough. The gravy had done good enough job there, though.
The dragon, whose name in mortal tongue was Grau, peeked into the stewing pot. The pony was doing quite well, from his perspective. The paste was running its course, shielding her from the extra heat while gradually turning her into jelly. She would retain her form as well as her life, although her mind would’ve probably gone soft long before he would get to enjoy her. It was a pity, but the taste would more than make up for the lost resistance. Judging from the way the pony had swollen, she’d be ripe enough within the hour. In the meantime, it was time to see how desperate the last little pony had actually become.
But before that, certain arrangements would be in order. After closing the lid, Grau shut his eyes, and focused not unlike Twilight had the first time she had tried to escape. The air around him hummed, changed color, and started to spin. An arcane hurricane formed around him, covering him from sight. As it evaporated, the dragon was gone. Or so the unobservant eye would have said.
It has been a while since I used this form, thought Grau while studying the result of his transformation. He was not the giant he used to be, although seven feet he would still ensure he’d tower most of the creatures this world had to offer. While slender, his figure now resembled more a bipedal and less an animal; his legs were straighter, and more easily distinguished from his hands, which still ended in razor sharp talons. His muzzle had shortened, yet not disappeared. Only his eyes had remained more or less the same.
A few wingbeats brought him on level with the last remaining pony, who still lay in her jar, waiting the end. Time would tell whether she would receive it or not. One intricate hand sign later and Grau could walk through the opening that had appeared in the solid, enchanted glass, which closed right after him, making not a sound.
“Hello,” said Grau, in a voice that might have been mistaken for equine.
Twilight sprung to her feet at the sound of the unexpected greeting. “Who are you?” she yelped, backing away.
Grau clicked his teeth. “After all the observing, you still don’t recognize me?”
Twilight blinked. For a second it seemed that she would not understand, but then the rage broke her expression like a volcano. She stepped forward.
“Before you make any hasty decision,” said Grau, “I should probably tell you that no magic save mine will work within these walls. That being said, if a combat to death is what you wish, that you shall have.”
Twilight hesitated. “Only your magic…? Who are you…?”
“A dragon, of course,” said Grau. “My name is Grau, although I don’t believe that is of much interest to you. You’re perplexed that a nonpony could use magic? It is so like you people to think that way…”
“What do you want?” growled Twilight. “You’ve already taken everything from me. Why? Why did you do all those horrible things? What for?”
Grau gave her a look like only a lizard can. “I will tell you that… but first I want your answer to my proposal.”
Twilight stared back at him. And that was that.
“What I seek is pleasure,” said Grau finally. “This your kin has offered me. Handsomely. But I crave for more.”
“More?” screamed Twilight. “What more can you have? You’ve taken everything! There’s nothing to give! You want me, you have to kill me first.” She spat in his direction.
Grau smiled at her. “I already told you that would be an option. But it would not bring me pleasure; not the kind I seek. For that can only be given, and it can only be given by you.”
“What?”
“Your consent.”
“Consent for what?” barked Twilight.
“You know what.”
Inadvertently, Twilight’s eyes lowered to the nether region of the creature before her. If she had not been able to recognize him by his eyes, what lay there would’ve certainly done the trick. She sneered.
“Are you out of your mind? Why would I consent to that, after everything you’ve done!”
“To save your life,” said Grau. And now we shall see how desperate a pony can get…
Twilight went speechless. For the past eternity she had been nothing but willing to die, for her friends or simply to end it all, and now person – or thing – responsible for that said there was hope. It was insane. But since her world had consisted of insanity the moment she had awoken, that was hardly an issue. The question was not whether Grau could be trusted, but whether she had any right walking out of this alive after witnessing the cruel deaths of her friends. Did she have the right to feel happy anymore? What would Celestia do?
“I… I…” Twilight clenched her teeth. She had other friends, didn’t she? And parents, and Armor, And Cadance… And Celestia… Wouldn’t it wrong them if she chose to die today? And who would explain the disappearance of them all, if not she? The relatives and friends of Applejack, Pinkie, Dash, Fluttershy, Rarity – all they would be left in ignorance of their loved ones’ fates. On second thought, maybe that’s not such a bad idea, after all…
What had Celestia once said? That there was hope so long as there was life?
“Well?” asked Grau. His thumb brushed gently the tips of his other claws.
“I… Yes!” snapped Twilight. “Fine! You’ll have my consent for… for whatever sick thing it is that you’re thinking!” She glared at him. “I hope your promise is worth more than your soul.”
Grau grinned at her. “Yes. Yes you do.”
He moved quickly. Twilight could but flinch as the strong hand grabbed her from the neck and horn, pressing her onto her knees. The instinct to fight was there, but she resisted it, even as it made her heart tear apart. Friends… I’m so sorry… I’m so, so sorry… I had to try… I had to… for you. For us.
Grau kept the mare at his feet, enjoying the feeling of her helplessness. Her fur wasn’t that bad either; soft and silky, like honey under his touch. He bended and gave her a long, wet lick, all the way from her throat to the tip of her horn. She shivered, but kept still under his grip.
“A good pony…” he hissed at the end of his taste. “A good little pony…“
He was already semi hard while intruding her mouth, which he squeezed open. Hilting her all in one go, his cock stopped at the back of her throat. Twilight gagged, automatically trying to pull back, but he kept her locked into his groin for a while before letting her breath. By that time, her saliva had coated his member, making it slick enough to slide easily in and out of her muzzle. It still made Twilight gag, but his quick pace meant she could at least breath.
Having her face fucked, Twilight couldn’t help but to think whether she had made the wrong choice. The odds that the undying reason gave for Grau keeping his word were so close to zero that Twilight could not even see where they had begun. On the other hoof, the beast was probably going to rape her anyway, so what difference did it make to at least have a theoretical shot at living? The difference between the silver and the sky on a cloud’s lining, I suppose…
Grau panted in excitement with every thrust, occasionally stopping to let the humidness of her mouth envelop his member before exposing it to air again. The mare was completely under his control, and he embraced every instant of it. It was like drinking a fine wine that tasted better the more you drank. He could go on like this for days. Unfortunately, his pet would likely not survive that long. And in any case, he had a pot on stove…
Twilight could hear the dragon’s balls churning as they slapped her chin. The notion that Rarity was perhaps still there crossed her mind, but it wasn’t as shocking as she might’ve believed. She couldn’t be alive after all this time. At the very least she’d have suffocated, or drowned to… to his juices.
Finally, Grau let out a long hiss and buried Twilight’s head into his crotch. His cock sunk deep into her throat, pulsing wildly at the pressure of the cum travelling along it. Twilight squeezed her eyes tighter shut, expecting his cum to taste awful. The first jet made him erupt into an animalistic scream. Twilight’s throat was covered in sperm in seconds, but most of it travelled right into her stomach on its own. To her surprise the cum actually tasted good. It was a rare aroma; kind of like a marshmallow mixed with cinnamon. It then dawned to her that she was tasting what paste his balls had turned Rarity into. Tears rose to her eyes, but she had to swallow the sweet, tasty cum all down regardless.
Once he was done, Grau pulled out. Think gunk splattered on the glass’s bottom and on top of Twilight as he rested his spent cock on her forehead. His testicles had certainly made short work of the white one. A pleasant afterglow radiated from every inch of his body, fresh with power of all the souls and meat he had consumed. It had been a good day.
He put his hand on Twilight’s temples and looked her into the eyes. “Thank you, purple one.”
Twilight coughed up some Rarity-flavoured cum. “Will you let me go now?”
The satisfied smile flickered on his lips. “You really thought I would do that?”
Twilight shook her head weakly.
“That’s what I thought. You can fight now.”
In one swift motion, Grau spread open his jaws to engulf Twilight all the way to her shoulders. Her scream died in his esophagus, which squeezed around her. Grau settled on his knees to ensure a steady, comfortable position for his meal. Next he locked Twilight’s front legs on her sides and started swallowing. His cum, while also adding a sweet taste to what was already a morsel, lubricated her journey wonderfully. His long tongue helped too, tasting her every which way.
Diving deeper into the dragon, Twilight cried both of relief and sadness. She kicked feebly for a bit, but her spirit was all but broken at this point. The slick, slimy throat massaged her short way to the opening of the stomach, through which her horn poked first, followed by the rest of her head. She could feel how Grau lifted her into the air, probably to let the gravity help him swallow. At least he wants this to be over quickly…
On that point, Twilight could not have been more wrong. Grau lifted her up only to enjoy an even more open access to her body. As it sunk up to her navel, his tongue slithered up to her private parts. The first lick was a tease, but still it trembled her whole body. Feeling it quiver was an exquisite experience. So was the taste of her marehood. Grau considered spitting the pony up to use her other holes as well, but passed the idea. The one remaining pony would be more than suitable for that purpose, once he’d get that far.
Twilight hadn't known she could feel more ravaged, but it seemed that the dragon had a knack for doing just that. She could but writhe as he licked her pussy, playing with her clitoris, all the while his throat massaged her body with countless tiny muscles. She might have cummed once or twice. She could not tell, for the acidic fumes of the stomach were starting to have an effect on her, on top of everything else.
Grau felt how energy faded away form his plaything. It could not have been avoided. Swiftly and without much ado, he wolfed down the rest of her body, all the way up to the tail, which he slurped down like a spaghetti. One final swallow, a stretch, and the pony settled down into his stomach quite nicely. In this form, the bulge she made was quite visible. One could even make out where her face was. Grau smoothed the spot with his thumb, and smiled as she responded by twitching. It had been fun, having her around, but it was time to let go.
He belched. The scaly skin around Twilight tightened even further, and her struggles intensified as she fought for breath. Grau basked in the last desperate jerks and in the way they resonated within him. In a few more seconds they died away, leaving but an ample amount of pony meant behind. Smacking his lips, he left the bottle and flew to the pot to see how the last treat of the day fared.
To his annoyment, the orange one had burst mid-cooking. That was the danger with making stuffed ponies: you had to be extra mindful of both time and temperature. That’s why he in general favoured lollipops: you got the same effect without many of the risks. Looking down at the pot, he shook his head at the sight of a bloated pony floating in the paste. The stomach had given up, as is usually the case. Several entrails and organs floated in the goo, half-jelly themselves. Perhaps he could still salvage some of that; maybe make another lollipop, or simply scoop up the remains and make a milkshake.
On the other claw, this gave him an ample opportunity to digest his main course in this form. It would take longer, but it would also be more nourishing. This being decided, he left the orange pony in the stew to melt away completely and flew to the foot of the stove. Its glow would be precious in breaking down the purple pony into nutrients in decent time. He settled down and soon fell asleep to the calming sound of digesting Twilight.
