Valentine

Whistle Wishes yelped when she felt the flexible stick slap on her flank. Not willing to get more of it, she ran to den in a corner, sliding on the ground; but the Governess was far from being done with her and seeing this, the young unicorn threw herself at her hooves and grabbed her foreleg, imploring her.

"Let go off me, you little insolent brat ! And recieve your punishment like a dignified filly!" the Governed cried while shaking her leg as if she had wanted to get rid of a piece of adhesive tape.

"But stoooooooooooop," whined Whistle Wishes, still solidly clung to the leg. "Valentine is the one who's got an issue, punish her, not meee..."

"Yes, I already know that," replied the mare, grousing. "She was punished for having had a row with Misty."

"No !" moaned the filly. "I opened her drawer, I read her letters ! And..."

"Yes, I understood that too, thank you very much. It is a very serious misconduct, and I think you will be punished accordingly. Right now, even."

"But... but..." the unicorn's eyes filled with tears.

"So, are you going to follow me, or do I have to drag you along to my office like an hideous shoe?" the Governess said, getting somewhat impatient.

Whistle Wishes got up, sobbing, and followed the Governess' step. She glanced behind her. On top of a bunk-bed, a filly gave her a cruel smile and stuck her tongue out; the one just underneath her whispered something to her neighbour who shook with laugher and shot an amused glance at her; another one showed her her plot and mimicked a to-and-fro movement, her tongue also stuck out, a mocking grimace on her face. She had always been the queen of the dormitory and she had now become the buffoon around here. Intimidating people is what she knew how to do best, but having been rendered powerless once had been enough to dissipate the aura of fear she diffused. Whistle Wishes turned back over and thought about all the things she would have to go through during the rest of her stay here. She let out an apprehensive hiccough in spite of herself. It never occured to her that what happened to her was only justice, that every filly in this room had a good reason to bear a grudge against her and to torment her in the worst way possible; at that moment, she was far too busy worrying about her leather skin.

With her head hung low, she entered the Governess' office and an Arctict cold made her shiver right away. She sneezed, opened her eyes, and saw the two other fillies tied to the wall.

"You?" she exclaimed, but she was barely surprised at all. They only let out a sigh of spite for an answer.

"Quite so, you three are the worst ponies this House has even known, and I am fairly sure that spending a night together will encourage you to behave in a more fitting way." While speaking, the Governess tied solidly Whistle Wishes to the last wooden cross. "This is only in your own benefit, believe me. Good night, ladies." She slammed the door shut, making the furniture tremble and dust fall in thick and irritant clouds.

A deadly silence fell upon the room, broken from time to time by a sneeze or the sound of the leather strips grinding on the fur. Not that they did not have anything to tell eachother; but they were all exhausted, Whistle Wishes in particular, whose head was spinning a little. Eventually, despite their incomfortable positions, they fell asleep in an hour.

Whistle Wishes had been sleeping dreamlessly for two hours now when a strange sensation progessively woke her up. The sensation gradually became more and more precise as she was going out of her dizziness; an itching, both irritating and pleasant, in this very particular place of the male anatomy. Already almost woken up, she realised her limb itched her.

Then she REALLY realised it.

Whistle Wishes jumped and checked her crotch, squinting to see it better. It was dark, but there was no doubt about the nature of this prominence between her back legs; she wriggled about from left to right and felt two heavy items dangling and banging against her skin within her tighs. "Holy Celestia, I've got the whole set," she thought. She bit the inside of her cheek, terrified by the idea of waking up from a dream. But the pain and blood she felt in her mouth were more than real. "It's magic, there's nothing to explain," answered the rest of her mind.

Truly happy for the first time of her filly's life, the unicorn used her magic to relieve her itching, moaning with pleasure like a possessed filly, her tongue out and her eyes rolled upwards. She played with her new toy without a pause, sexual climaxes following eachother, overlaying the expensive carpet of the office with whitish and sticky secretions, struggling to retain her screams of pleasure.

When she reached cloud nine for the eighth time in one hour, she stopped for a moment, gathering the scattered fragments of her consciousness. She had spent the best hour of her whole existence; but it wasn't enough for her anymore. She got her head up and saw the two fillies fast asleep. She had totally forgotten about them. A grimace of desire distorted her muzzle. But right away, the terrible reality of her captivity fell upon her : she neighed in frustration.

But her terrible sexual appetite had not dulled her intelligence. She seeked with her gaze an item that could come in handy and found the ideal candidate in a paper knife decorated with silver. With great regret, she stopped touching the thing between her legs, and it fell weakly; she redirected her magic on the tool, softly lifted it in the air and brought it by the leather strips, sarting to cut them.

At the beginning, she had to stop every thirty seconds to take care of her marvelous gift, so that it took her a very long time to cut the first strip fully. But as soon as her first hoof was free, she used it to satisfy her need and thus managed to cut all the remaining strips without interruption. Eventually, the last one broke and she fell heavily upon her four legs.

Without losing any time, she drew close to the two sleeping fillies, and chose Valentine after a short hesitation. "But what does it matter?" she thought. "I've got the whole night, everyone will have their turn... their turns..."

With a satisfied smile, the sent the wooden cross on the ground.

Valentine woke up with a jump, a strong pain radiating her whole spine; it took her quite some time to come back to reality, and realising that she was on the ground, tied up, and that on top of her was Whistle Wishes, dominating her with her presence.

"You sicko ! Governess, please help !" she screamed. She felt a cold blade in her neck, and her voice died instantly in her throat. "Wishes... what are you doing ?" she went on, weakly moaning, struggling to keep her bladder under control.

"I'm giving a try to my new toy ! Haha !" She started to laugh like a maniac. On other side of the wall,  Misty woke up and started calling for help. "Shut up you idiot !" ordered Whistle Wishes while sticking a cloth curled up in a ball into her mouth.

"Your... what?" whispered Valentine, lifting her eyebrow.

"This!" Whistle Wishes spreaded her legs, proudly revealing... nothing. To Valentine's eyes, her roommate's crotch was as flat as usual, except for two little symetric bulges at the bottom of her belly. She swallowed. If there was something worse than Whistle Wishes during an hormonal crisis, it was certainly a totally mad Whistle Wishes AND during an hormonal crisis.

"Let's not waste any time!" cried the other out with terrifying enthousiasm. "Let's mount!" She placed herself between Valentine's spreaded legs and started to move back and forth, making her imaginary equestrian limb go in and out. "OOOOOH ! YESSSS ! FEELS SO GOOD !" she grumbled.

Valentine clenched her teeth and waited for time to pass. She did not feel a thing of course, no pain, let alone pleasure, nothing but the wet contact of Whistle Wishes's croth against her own from time to time; but the situation was embarrassing and grotesque enough to be unpleasant, over and above the fact that dribble was falling upon her face and into her eyes and that the crazy pony above her was occasionaly spanking her. This torture was brutally interrupted by an heavy crack; the movement stopped, and Whistle Wishes fell flat on her face upon her. Valentine opened her eyes and saw a globe floating in the air, that fell back the next moment on the ground and rolled towards a corner of the room. Misty gave her a look filled with tears and a weak smile. But Valentine did not look back : she was too busy contemplating the sagged body, lifted by a whistling breath, and the broken horn in its middle.