Nailing Nightmare
It's a dark and stormy night, yet again. Barely a week has passed since the day refused to return, and Ponyville has been getting worried. Everything is collapsing. Daytime is gone and various key ponies have vanished from the town—the head of the weather team gone overnight, the baker went poof, the dressmaker hasn't been seen since. Even the newcomer, the student of the princess, went missing on that night. Nobody is quite sure what happened, but that it's Nightmare Moon's fault is self-evident.
You're going to stop her. The other ponies are too afraid, but you aren't. You can take her, you're sure. So here you are, standing outside of town with a flaming torch in one hand, and a pony-sized pitchfork in the other. Before you is the Everfree Forest, the last place Nightmare Moon was seen flying towards. You think you know where she's hiding—in the castle of the two pony sisters some two miles from your location, but once you get there you're going to need a plan.
Actually, fuck the plan. You don't need anything but your fists—what's a little pony going to do to stop you? One thing you'd learned early on was that humans are naturally immune to magic, and exert an anti-magic field around them. If you could get close enough to touch her she'd have trouble fighting back.
You begin your trek, travelling through the harsh forest with bravery and courage. You hack through wild growths with your pitchfork, and light the way with your torch. You feel unstoppable, like a juggernaut version of Indiana Jones. Before long, you're wiping the sweat from your brow and standing on a small outcrop of rocks overlooking the Castle of the Two Pony Sisters. It, much like everything else, is dark and foreboding, but there's also a tingle in the air. Nightmare Moon is inside, you can tell.
You climb down the rock face with ease and sneak to the side of the castle. It's run down and damaged, but it looks more completed than the pictures in your guidebook suggested. Perhaps it was being rebuilt now? Regardless, you have to get inside. Through the front door is the easy option, but who knows what side-entrances you could find?
Through the front door would be the honourable and brave method, but finding an alternate entrance is the smart one. No telling what'd be waiting for you inside.
You carefully tiptoe around the castle, searching for an entrance. As you walk, you spot a window and decide to have a peek. The glass is thick and blurry, but you can make out the scene within. Six brightly coloured ponies lie within, possibly bound and tied—you can't tell. The window is far too small to climb through, though, so you continue around.
Suddenly, you trip over a spectacularly poorly placed tree root. You scuff your palms, but suffer no great damage. Unfortunately, the branch did crack, and it's possible somebody heard. Luckily, however, you notice something as you roll over to stand up; there's a hole in the wall up above. You could probably climb it, but it'd mean dropping either your torch or pitchfork.
You drop the torch, hoping it'll fizzle out on the ground after a few minutes. Though the light it casts fades into the darkness, you can still use it to guide your way up the wall. Carrying your pitchfork between your teeth, you climb, quickly scaling the rough stone wall and jumping into the castle.
You look around. You're in a hallway, thankfully alone. It looks run down, but there are clear signs of life from the footsteps in the thick layer of dust. As you stand there taking in the sight, you hear a sound behind you and quickly duck against the wall.
"Damn," a voice said, cutting through the silence. "Looks like we're dealing with a unicorn. Madam Moon will not be happy if they get to her."
"Yeah," another voice replied. "They must have dropped this after tripping. They can't be far, let's carry on. The only entrance is the main doors, and nothing could get through there alive."
You breathe out as they walk away, though you hadn't realised you were holding your breath at all. From the corridor are a few doors, probably to bedrooms, and a bigger one at the end. That's probably the one that'll lead to Nightmare Moon, but the other rooms might have useful supplies.
Moving as quietly as you can, you sneak towards the nearest room. You carefully swing open the door, first checking to make sure there's nobody inside before entering. It's empty, so you continue. The room is old, but opulent. The four-poster bed must have been impressive in its day, but now it's rotted and useless. As is almost everything, unfortunately.
You open the chests and look through them, finding little but worthless trinkets and broken goods. None of it is useful. You give up and slide the drawer shut in frustration.
"What was that?" a voice calls from far away. You think fast and dash over to the wardrobe, climbing inside and closing the door shut behind you just in time to escape immediate detection as a matte-black bat-guard enters the room. He looks around for anything out of place—you did leave everything as you found it, right?
"Hm, must have been my imagination," he mutters, before turning around and stepping on the side of your pitchfork. "Ah! Or not! Come out, wherever you are, and perhaps you will live for another day!"
You stay as still and as quiet as you can, attempting to emulate the mannerisms of the coats that surround you. Your breathing slows to a crawl as you watch through the crack, hoping to Celestia the guard wouldn't think to peek inside your hiding place.
"Well then, we're going to have to do this the hard way?" he calls after a few seconds of silence, and starts to explore the room. It's only a matter of time until he finds you, and right now he's on the far side of the room, more vulnerable than he's ever going to be again.
You run, bursting out of the cupboard and grabbing your pitchfork as you dash towards him. The moment you're in range, you thrust at him, putting all your weight into your strike—you're aiming to kill.
Your pitchfork bounces uselessly from some kind of magic shield, and it flies out of your hands to clatter at the edge of the room. The guard turns around and grins at you. "Knew you'd make yourself known sooner or later. Never seen one of you before, but if you're sneaking around I'm sure your princess would just love to meet you. Kneel, dog."
You get down on your knees, bringing your head level with his. His face twists into a cruel smile, which you find oddly adorable despite the worrisome conditions. For an evil bat-guard, he's kinda cute.
"Good boy. Don't resist and this'll be over much faster for you. The princess doesn't like intruders, so you have a choice between a quick death, or a long and painful one, and I sugg-Oof"
You interrupt his speech with a quick punch to the nose, sending him reeling. You stand up and kick outwards, but impact uselessly against his armour, giving him enough time to recover and hit you with a quick sprint, driving his head into your stomach and winding you. He spins and delivers a quick buck to your legs, sending you topping to the floor.
"You shouldn't have done that," he snarls, narrowing his eyes and staring at you. "Nopony else knows we're here, there's no reason I have to take you to Nightmare Moon straight away..."
You open your mouth to talk, and feel his hoof slam into your skull. Then everything goes dark.
When you come to, your arms and legs are bound by your sides and your mouth is filled with some sort of foul-tasting solidified sap. You struggle, but it's no use and you can't get free. Your head aches, that guard really hit you hard. Luckily he's nowhere to be seen, but neither is anybody else.
You hear a quiet tinkle of laughter from behind you. "You didn't really think you could defeat me, did you?" a mocking voice asked. A shiver runs through your spine as you realise who it was—Nightmare Moon. The one who took daylight from you, and you're helpless.
You feel another chill as her dark, star-filled mane cradles your neck. More worryingly, you feel her breath on the back of your ear as she whispers, "What are we going to do with you?"
Thank Celestia you had fingernails, and were slowly cutting your way through one of the ropes. You should be free soon.
You make angry-sounding noises to try and distract her, grunting and screaming. Her hair continues to slowly caress you, tickling over your chin and neck. Every time it touches you, it sends a jolt of electricity running through your body and leaves a warm, longing feeling, like your body wants it back. You hurry, worrying that perhaps if you're not fast, you won't even want to escape.
"Oh, there's no point shouting, my little hero. You're already mine, there is no escape from here. Why, I have the last foals who tried to stop me locked up in one of the dungeons having a little personal time with my guards right now, but... well, you're special, aren't you? I want you all for myself."
She slowly walks around to your front and stares you in the eyes. Her gaze is almost hypnotic, and you find your attentions blurring and your mind wandering every moment you're forced to look into those gorgeous eyes. Your own eyes start to go dim, and she smiles.
"Yes, just submit, my new subject. It will all be much easier," she softly says, while moving her head forward and giving the sap in your mouth a teasing lick.
Something snaps behind you. The rope! You've cut the rope! The haze in your mind clears as you jump into action, quickly wrapping the rope around her neck before she can react, and firmly grasping her horn in your hands, cutting off her magic. Her mane immediately falls to her sides, returning to a strictly corporeal form. "W- what is the meaning of this insolence!" she shouts, ineffectively beating her forehooves against your chest. Without magic, she seems almost helpless.
You hold her tight while pulling the rope from your feet, and then tie that rope around her horn time and time again. It won't hold her forever, and if you left her alone she'd probably escape quite quickly, but there's no reason to leave her alone.
"You c- cannot do this to me!" she screeches. "I'm Nightmare Moon! I defeated Celestia, and the Bearers of Harmony! I cannot fall to something like you!"
The rope around her neck is quickly stuffed into her mouth, cutting off her rant quite efficiently. You sit on her to keep her still and feel around the sap in your mouth. It actually comes out quite easily when you pull it, and soon you're completely freed from her binds. That was easier than you were expecting, really.
Of course, now you have a helpless evil goddess underneath you. She's glaring at you with all her might, but an evil eye seems to be all she's currently capable of. You came here to kill her, but perhaps that's not the only option...
You get up and start to check around the room. As you walk, you casually talk about how you'd come here to kill her and hopefully right all of her wrongs, and you have to suppress a smile as her eyes go wide—she's clearly afraid. Poor thing probably hasn't felt vulnerable for a very long time.
There's only one entrance to this room, and the door is large and solid. The lock is big and thick, and it takes all your strength to shift it closed. Now you're alone.
Of course, you say while walking back towards her, she doesn't have to die. You sit down next to her and start to idly play with her tail, not saying a word but watching the expression on her face. It twists into shock, and then fear as she realises what you're insinuating. She shakes her head forcefully and tries to shy away, but you clench your fist in her tail and yank her a little closer. Do evil goddesses really get a choice?
You hold her close and start to mirror her earlier statements: it'll be easier if you submit, there's no escape, et cetera. Her eyes are quivering in fear and the end of her horn keeps sparking uselessly as she tries to force magic through it, to no avail. Keeping ropes close enough to you that they could absorb the anti-magic effect humans had was a terrible idea on her behalf.
You lift her tail up to get a better view of her most private area, and smile as your gaze falls upon it. Even ancient evils can have a cute little vagina. Your other hand starts to slowly stroke her flank, feeling against her cutie mark and stroking her coat slowly and sensually. Her body is so warm, even though her gaze is so cold.
No matter, you think. You drop her tail and move over to her head, where you grab the centerpiece of her armor—the chestplate—and yank it over her neck, before throwing it to the side. Without it, she looks even more scared and vulnerable, but that only reminds you of the scared mares back in Ponyville, rather than eliciting any empathy. The creature before you is a monster, even if it can still feel fear.
You run a finger along her chin, praising her for being such a good girl and not fighting back too hard. You guess she really does want it after all, eh? She shakes her head. You don't take that as an answer and grab a bunch of her mane in your hand, before forcefully pulling her up onto her hooves and hissing into her ear to stay put—there's no escape, she can't run. She may as well just accept she's yours now.
You carefully grasp her horn in one hand and remove the rope. With her horn free, you impatiently yank at her helmet until it slides off, and throw it to the floor, quickly replacing the rope before she becomes brave enough to try anything. How the mighty have fallen, you whisper into her ear as you kneel before her and lift one of her hooves. Were she in a more fortuitous position, you might be forced to kiss it, but as it is now you simply pull the shoe from her foot and throw it into the corner of the room. The other three quickly follow, and you stand to admire your handiwork.
The once-proud once-goddess queen stands before you, shivering from the cold and fear but still too scared to move or try and escape. Her eyes are alive, darting left and right in search of some magical escape that simply isn't coming. You walk up to her and tighten the rope around her horn, making sure she can't escape. Can't have you escaping before the fun, can we, my 'liege', you say with a hint of malice in your voice.
No, the pony—you're getting closer to thinking "pet" every second—before you can't even bring herself to fight back, knowing that without her magical gifts it's useless. She's useless, you tell her, she may as well try and find some purpose in her life now. You'd be happy to give her one.
You slowly walk round her, massaging and teasing her body as you walk. When you finally reach behind her, you deliver a solid blow to her rear, and hear her scream through the gag. She's clearly not used to physical pain. You kneel behind her and start to run your hands along her inner thighs, squeezing her muscles and rubbing near her slit.
Any other creature and you'd probably be worried about getting a facefull of hoof, but Nightmare Moon seemed as frozen in fear as she was physically weak. Without magic to bolster her movements, you'd be surprised if she could even knock you down, never mind knock you out.
Your hands move towards her black cunt, slowly rubbing up and down without a great deal of care for foreplay or intimacy. Her skin is smooth and she looked incredibly tight, like she'd never before been used. After a few seconds of fondling you begin to feel a tingle of moisture on your fingertips, which you confirmed with a quick lick. She squeaks in surprise as you lick your lips, moaning in approval—your little pony tastes good.
You're already wet, you tell her. What exactly is she the princess of, again? Sluttiness? You bet she wouldn't even complain if you ungagged her.
So you did, taking the rope from out of her mouth and instead tightly wrapping it around her neck, not quite tight enough to choke. You hold the two ends in your hand and give it a testing pull, ensuring that you can indeed choke her if necessary. The rope almost acts like reigns.
"You- you won't get away with this!" she snarls. You respond with a quick tug, holding the rope tight for a few seconds and robbing her of oxygen. When you release, she breathes deeply and pants for a few seconds. "No! Get away from me!" she warns, though she has nothing to back it up.
You tell her to stay quiet, promising it'll go easier if she complies. You hear her sniff, and a strange sound escapes her lips, one halfway between a sigh and a sob. That's more like it, you coo, while using your free hand to slowly massage her damp nether lips.
While you stroke and tease, you continue softly talking to her, speaking as if she was a child that required berating for some minor wrongdoing. Your words, though, would have been wholly inappropriate for a child—she's a worthless slut, a terrible princess. A worthless god, and in Celestia's name even YOU are surprised at how wet she's getting just from a little fingering. Slut.
She stifles another sob up front, and you decide enough is enough. Her lips are almost dripping now and her body must be desperate. You jump up and quickly mount her, sitting on her back like she was a common steed. Holding her reigns in one hand, you scratch behind her ear with your other, before starting to slowly rub and tease them.
She wants it, doesn't she? You can tell, you assure her. She doesn't have to be ashamed, it's all she's good for now—she may as well admit it. You promise her, you'll be kind if she asks nicely.
"G- go to hay," she snaps, but her voice is uneven and barely holding together. You lean down and start to plant a trail of kisses around her neck while stroking her mane with your free hand, occasionally whispering to her how pretty she really is, and how lucky she is to have found a nice strong man who can protect her—if she'll let him.
You reach behind yourself with a hand and slap her flank as hard as you can. She screams in pain, but you quickly stifle that with a tug on her reigns and tell her to start walking.
"What?" she asks. You slap her again, making sure to pull her ropes tight first so she can't even manage a scream. As soon as you release her, she begins to cough and splutter, but shakily walks forward at the same time, with her head noticeably lower than it used to be.
Good girl, you whisper. Now she gets a reward, just as promised. You reach behind you and fondle her behind for a few seconds while you feel around for her slit, and find it even wetter than before. It's practically dripping as she walks. You slip a few fingers inside and start to slowly tease, spurred on by her sharp intake of breath, as if she's given up fighting.
You continue massaging her virgin slit, feeling her getting wetter and wetter as you go. Before long her breathing grows deep and heavy, and her hoofsteps are shakier and even less sure of herself as you steer her around the room in pointless circles, occasionally jabbing your feet into her sides to speed her up.
She lets out a quiet moan as your fingers brush against her clitoris, and she barely even bothers to stifle it. See, it's nicer if she complies, isn't it?
She sobs, nodding shakily and wordlessly. Good girl.
So, you ask, who are you?
"Nig- Nightmare Moon," she quietly replies. You take your hand out from her snatch and drum your fingers against her flank, reminding her of how hard you can strike her. Try again.
She sniffs. "Luna, my name is Luna."
You lightly slap her, not hard enough to be painful but enough to send the message that you won't accept much more disobedience. "Y- yours," she replies, with a tear forming in her eye. "I'm yours."
You stroke her mane and praise her good behaviour, telling her she's being such a good girl that she deserves a special reward. You kick your legs against her sides and tell her to run, riding her around the room in a few speedy circles until she's panting and breathless. She is not a physically strong pony, and after a few cycles she's exhausted. She slowly comes to a stop and drops to the floor, completely bereft of energy.
You lightly slap her flank, criticising her lack of endurance. "I'm... sorry," she whispers, all traces of defiance vanished. You laugh and slap her again, telling her to shut up and not speak unless she's spoken to—and while she's at it, call you "sir". "My owner" will also do, you add.
You get off and look upon her. She's spread out on the floor, helpless and panting before you. Her tail is raised straight up, and her body is practically begging for it. Her mind should soon follow, you reason. You ask her what she wants.
"F- freedom," she replies. You laugh. No, really, what does she want?
"You... please."
You grab her tail and roughly pull her up into her hindlegs, telling her to keep herself in place. She's a little shaky, but she manages it. You kneel behind her and get your head close enough that she can feel your breathing. Shivers run through her body as your breath impacts against her, and you can smell her deep musk quite strongly.
You tell her to prove she wants it, or she's getting nothing. You can always go back to your original plan.
"Please, sir, my body yearns. I do- don't deserve it, but I need it. Please."
Would she raise the sun again for it, you ask?
"Anything! Please!" she begs.
You lean a little forward, taking in her scent before giving her a good lick and taking in her flavour. She groans involuntarily as her body takes control, bracing herself against the floor. After a few licks, you decide she's more than ready, and stand up to take off your pants.
Roughly pulling her tail to one side, you guide your throbbing penis to her lips and slowly push inside. She grunts as you begin to fill her, and groans as your insertion continues deeper and deeper within her.
You reach beneath her with the hand not holding her reigns and pinch one of her firm nipples between your fingers, rubbing and teasing it as you slowly slid in and out of her. She let out a groan as you cupped her teat, massaging it between your fingers.
You congratulate her on accepting her new life as a valueless slut quite so quickly. You'd expected her to take a little breaking in at least, but you guessed that she must have always wanted it really. She was so tight it couldn't not have been her first time, something which you took great delight in mentioning to her.
"It... is," she gasped between thrusts. You hoped you were everything she ever dreamed of. "Yes sir."
You increased your tempo to reward your slut's good behaviour, moving from a relatively sedate pattern to pumping in and out of her as fast as you could. As you went, you squeezed and massaged her teat just to hear her gasps and moans, knowing how much of her dignity each one cost her.
Before long, she was gasping and moaning with every pump, slowly growing shakier and shakier. If you keep on as you are you know she'd cum before you.
You continue, slamming into her time and time again until she's a slobbering wreck on the cold floor. The apex of each thrust is joined with a gasp, or a groan, or a cry of pain as you delve a little deeper than her virgin slit is able to manage. All three inspire you to thrust harder and deeper.
Her legs quiver and her body spasms as she finally orgasms, experiencing the euphoric bliss for the first time and irreparably linking it with her newfound servitude. She screams out in joy as her mind is overwhelmed, but you don't stop. Each of your thrusts is now paired with an unrestrained unrestrained scream as her body starts to completely overwhelm her, hammering her mind with wave after wave of pleasure. Soon you can feel she's on the edge again, and you use the opportunity to pull out, leaving her feeling empty and unfulfilled.
"N- no! Please!" she gasps. You shake your head. She gets nothing until the sun is in its rightful place, and Celestia is free. "But I can't!" she replies. Of course she can't, with the rope secured around her horn she can't do much of anything. You ask her if she promises to behave if you remove the rope.
"Yes, my owner," she subserviently replies, and you slowly pull the tightly-bound cord from around her horn. Light soon begins to stream from the small window at the far end of the room. Very good girl, you whisper, cupping her face in your palm and scratching under her chin.
You press your foot against her body and kick her onto her back, before pushing it against her chest and keeping her steady. With one hand you grab her reigns and pull, cutting off her air, and with the other you take your penis and begin the simple task of finishing yourself off.
As she chokes, she tilts her head to look at you, but all she sees is the end of your cock pointed at her face while her air begins to dissipate and she starts to slowly lose conciousness. As the world goes dim, she feels your seed splatter against her face, feeling warm and sticky. You release the rope, letting her breathe, and once more linking the two sensations in her mind. You stand above her, looking down on the broken, panting, cum-soaked ex-goddess—YOUR broken, panting, cum-soaked ex-goddess.
