Celestia will save me. Celestia will save me. Celestia will save me.
Celestia will save me. Celestia will save me. Celestia will save me.
Celestia will save me. Celestia will save me. Celestia will save me.
Wagon lay in his bed, in the same room he started his nightmare in. He couldn’t move his legs and his speech was slurred, his right eye was nearly blinded, his memory was poor and nearly gone, save for a few bits and pieces; but he could still feel everything.
Two days must have passed by this point. Maybe a month? A week?
He had been chosen by one centaur in particular to be its toy.
Hours would pass as it rambled in its language about whatever Wagon couldn’t care less. Minutes of being fed. Time lost as he sobbed while he was mounted and violated time after time.
The only thing that kept him sane was repeating his mantra and praying to be held by his mother in his bed at home; having woken from the nightmare.
That she would be petting his mane and cooing to him, telling him everything would be okay. That it was only a dream, nothing bad had happened.
The taste of old salad and salty sperm permeated his taste as he came back to the world as he knew it now.
A kiss on his head, a pat on his back, and an empty compliment signaled the end of the pain, finally. He whimpered as the centaur withdrew with a whiff and pop; he sniffled and tried to beg for water, his words slurred.
“The pony do well. My love, you will know joyous of marriage soon, then we be one, for lives,” it said dragging a finger across Wagons face. The look of love in its eyes met Wagon’s. “Pony isn’t pleased?” it said in broken Equestrian.
“Llip me~, glow… Pthease.”
“No let you go, you mine now. Me tell you something… We are difference in worlds. We live in war. You live in peace. We are many males. You are many females. We trade females. You live each other for life. Your nature is different, but we all need love,” it said, “Klothur loves Wagon and will be with him for years.
“We will return to Centaur homeland, and you will be share with family. But you will always be my love, to sleep with and be with with the most.”
Wagon forced his eyes closed and wept, turning his head away.
Celestia will save me. Celestia will save me. Celestia will save me. Celestia will save me… Celestia will...
“Pony! You look at Klothur like husband going to be; with respecting,” Klothur said grabbing Wagon’s broken leg and squeezing.
Wagon screamed in pain, coughing as his throats soreness made itself known from having to be force fed Klothur’s cock hours before.
“Ah, I sorry. Um, not mean make cry. Please, how make better?” Klothur asked resting on his knees on the floor, leaning toward Wagon and caressing his head in his arms.
“Kkhl…”
“Yes, my love?” Klothur said softly as he began to pet Wagons mane.
“Clth wum.”
“Ah, colts room time already? It will be easy: You are loose,” Klothur said with a warm smile before standing tall, “most centaur take years, you husband ready in days. I much lucky,“ he said happily, lifting Wagon, cradling him in his arms. “I must remember be softer with weak mate.”
With his left foreleg Klothur pushed the door open before entering the hall.
Blood and vomit still stained where he was forced to taste that mare’s womb, the memory sending a queasy sense through his head.
He looked at the walls as he was carried, the only sound were the sobs of ponies from behind closed doors they passed. One room he passed was without a door, blood sprayed a wall as though it was a water balloon that had been popped.
He flinched at the sight as it passed but kept looking. The only memories he could retain were the worst ones he could imagine since he was brought here, he wanted to find some sign of goodness in this place, this; warehouse of horrors.
His ears perked and his head moved before he knew why, stopping Klothur in his tracks. “What, mate hear?”
Wagon listened and turned his head, trying to see with his good eye the door behind himself. Klothur turned and faced the door Wagon was listening toward. A pictograph was drawn on the door.
“This room? Is another pony, like you. Let us leave-”
“NGEE…”
“Mate wishes to see? Fine,” he huffed turning and setting Wagon on his horse-back before turning to grab the latch, forcing it to the right with a grunt, and giving the door a tug. The door slid open with each of Klothur’s steps. He stopped before it had opened all the way and scoffed.
“Mate will look, then we will go,” he said cantering his rear so Wagon could look inside.
“H-hello? Please, where’s my mommy,” a filly called, “please… I said I’m sorry for whatever I did, I just want my mommy. I just want my mommy. I’ll let you hurt me again, back there... just, please, let me see my mommy again,” she said softly, pleading to him.
Wagon’s eyes watered and he tried to tell her something, anything, but he couldn’t talk. He saw her eyes in the darkness, reflecting the light as she begged the silhouette that looked like a centaur before he turned his head away.
Klothur turned and started closing the door as Wagon let tears fall and the filly began to scream in panic.
“No! Please, put it in if you have to… I won’t bite this time, please! Let me see my mom, you said she was here still. She’s a blue pegasus with green mane, please,” the filly screamed as the sound of hooves hitting the door sounded. She began pounding and screaming, begging to see her mother as Klothur locked the door and reached to grab Wagon.
“Wagon sees, you are lucky. Not a mare to be traded, a colt to be loved.”
Wagon grunted and opened his mouth, clamping as hard as he could on Klothur’s arm. With a shout of pain Klothur grabbed Wagons broken legs’ splint and yanked, expecting him to let go.
Wagon bit harder and began grinding his lower jaw, tearing the thin flesh and sending Klothur into a screaming rage. He had had enough and, with his sharpened nails, dug deeply into Wagon’s broken leg.
With a restrained shout he released and was tossed to the floor. The centaur loomed over him baring his teeth.
“My mate is fighter? Good,” he grinned, “I like fighter.”
Wagon sighed and let his head fall. He knew he was forgetting something. But what was it? He was picked back up and cradled, hugged almost, and carried down the hall again to the room that was used as a restroom only because it had several holes in the floor from failed escapes.
What was he forgetting? It was right on the tip of his tongue. The memory was so elusive.
“My mate went well, good job,” he was praised.
Why? Did he… He did. He was lost in thought and didn’t notice he’d relieved himself and was already being carried back.
What was it? What made him special? What happened to make him forget so much of his life?
Why was his body broken?
Why couldn’t he think of anypony except his mother and Celestia? Why were they familiar, anyway? What made them stand out against the centaur that was carrying him?
A flash of memory made Wagon squeal in fright. The giant centaur. How could he forget that thing? The laugh it gave him when he wanted to go. The broken leg. The… knife.
“Horng.”
Klothur stopped and looked at the pony in his arms. “What, my love?”
“Ny horng,” he said as drool ran from his mouth, “here?”
“Ah, you miss horn? It is there,” he said, tapping the inverse stub on Wagon’s head, “inside head, not on. Now you are like pony that may have mark; Kortan searches, we follow.”
Horn. His horn. So simple a thing. A special bone that has magic conduits in it. Magic.
Thaumic energy. Energy from the aether. Aether. Power. Strength. Knowledge. Ability. Skills… Kills. Murder. Vengeance. Loss. Pain. Misery. Alone. Insanity. Death. Darkness. Light...
“We are you home, mate. I lay you bed, then get foods. Bengi'bals for you.”
Wagon was alone again. Time lost meaning as his thought spun in a nearly unending spiral as sleep finally came. For the first time since he woke up days ago he felt sleep tugging at him and he smiled.
He was standing on a hill overlooking his home city of Baltimare. He smiled at the city he rembered. The sky was yellow and the grass was blue, just as it had always been. The scent of blood wafted through the air and made him smile as an icy breeze washed over him. The stench of rotting flesh made his nose twitch in eagerness.
“Just like mom used to make,” he said smiling.
He looked behind him and a beautiful lake of thick yellow sperm flowed. A young filly played at the edge with a horn… He froze. His horn. Why was his horn all the way over there? He needed it back. Empty. Alone. Sad. He needed it back.
He turned to trot down the hill to the little mare who was kicking the horn amongst the blue grass but stopped as she took notice of him.
She turned her face to him… No, not a face. It was missing. A disfigured hole in her head was now facing him. A shrill shriek came from the filly as it raised to four legs and began to trot at him.
He watched and cocked his head as it approached, its shrill noise ebbing at it came to a stop before him… his horn lodged where it’s muzzle should have been, pointing at him.
He opened his mouth and began to vomit various items from food to what he recognized as childhood toys of his as he spoke. “Little pretty filly, who are you. And, why is horn?”
“Scrrreeeeaaaeerrrr,” it replied before the horn fell into the blue grass.
The horn stood tall and glowed an unreal green as she backed up, turned, and galloped into the thick yellow sperm, quickly drowning silently beneath its slow waves.
“Me. Horn.”
He walked to it, a mere few paces before he tripped and landed on it. He felt happy. Like a piece of him was returned as he tasted blood and cold meat in his mouth, running down his throat.
The flavor of mother’s milk.
The scent of her baking.
The feel of the grass.
The blood red sun in the sky.
A perfect day to… Live? Die? Smile? Cry?
Slave to freedom or freedom through slavery?
Where is Celestia? Why hasn’t she freed me?
Why hasn’t she done anything besides watch me in my pain?
My misery.
My violations…
Wagon woke in the center of the enormous table in the warehouse with Kortan looking at him, his centaur beside him, holding him close. The sound of miserable ponies in cages surrounded them.
“So, little minion. You say he went to sleep and began speaking in the language of demons? This little unicorn is full of surprises. You have chosen a great mate to bring home, your father will be pleased.”
Klothur grinned at the praise, replying hastily in their language.
“Yes, yes. I will conduct the ceremony after our task is complete and He is pleased. Until then, let us see what your mate has to say, he awakens.”
Klothur squealed in glee at the one open eye of Wagon’s, pulling him into a tight hug.
“Hm, your name is worthless to me and therefore I will not remember it. You are the mate to my minion here,” he said in a deep smooth voice, “and he says you speak in demon while asleep? Is this true?”
Klothur replied and Wagon watched as Kortan frowned.
“Ah, you’re the one I turned the horn on. I thought you dead, or at least on your way. You are worthless to me and I am annoyed seeing you again. Klothur, allow me to have one game with him before I let him return with you.”
Klothur hesitated before nodding and moving away.
“Return to your duties. You have neglected them enough. It will be here when you return.”
A firm nod and a deep kiss was all Wagon received before the centaur galloped to the edge of the table and jumped down, out of sight.
“So, little unicorn with your horn in your brain… You lived to mock me?” Kortan said quietly, “I will have one game with you… I want to see your ribs.”
Wagon felt his heart beat slower as he laid his head down. He understood he was to going to finally die, he was ready.
The sound of something metal scraped against stone.
The sound of ponies crying, screaming in pain, or mumbling prayers washed through him as he closed his eyes.
He felt his broken leg first.
A sharp pain at his knee that slowly slid up to his back.
A sharp pain that screamed in agony from his front left leg to the center of his back and down.
The knife bumping along his vertebra until it met the first incision.
He screamed in his mind as the blade slowly worked its way under his skin and something pinched him, tugging slowly as the knife cut his hide away from his meat.
“Ah, so there they are… So many ribs, so white and pure.
WHITE AND PURE.
Celestia.NOT. Save. Me!
His eyes opened and he remembered what he forgot.
He was a unicorn.
Unicorns use magic. Cast spells. Do things no others can.
And right now, he wanted only one thing.
To violate Celestia.
He focused and cast a spell he didn’t know if he knew or not, but it felt right… He cast a sphere of fire around himself, burning Kortan’s fingertips.
With a yell, Kortan flinched back, dropping his knife and tweezers, Wagon’s flesh flap falling to the table with a slap as he began to rise; black and green smoke scorching his legs.
He was going to hold her down and penetrate her.
He was going to break her legs while she tried to escape.
He was going to remove her wings while he violated her face.
He was going to have her watch as he forced others to eat unborn foals.
After she was violated to his satisfaction, he would move to another.
Then another.
Then another.
Until every pony felt his pain.
Until every pony had been violated.
He felt a force above him and looked up to see a hammer, of sorts, smacking his shield. His eye followed the handle to Kortan’s hand.
The first he would violate.
No, that honor went to his husband, his lover.
Klothur. The love of his life, who would stand by his side while he violated.
Wagon the Violator and Klothur the Centaur.
“Kllth,” he said as his throat burned.
“Die, you diseased failure,” Kortan grunted, striking again with the mallet.
“Kllth? Ooo?” he called as his tongue lolled from his mouth. Looking around as his vision faded to black.
Wagon was beginning to panic, making the heat grow outside the shield, beginning to scorch the table and driving Kortan back a step in reflex as a heat wave washed across his chest.
Wagon winced as his flesh tore from its own weight as he rose from the table several inches, the blood that was beginning to ooze was held in by the black fire that surrounded his legs and began to climb his body.
Wagon closed his eyes and remembered the beautiful filly. The purple sky. The red grass. The grey water. The black sun that warmed him with it’s radiant green aura. Everything was just as it should be, just as he remembered it.
A smile crossed his face as the black fire engulfed him, singeing his hide of all its fur and cauterizing the wound across the left side of his body. It continued until he was completely charred, his flesh as black as charcoal and flaking and cracking as he moved.
The scent made even Kortan’s stomach threaten to empty as he watched in fearful awe, the few seconds it took was inspiring and terrifying at the same time.
Klothur scrambled up the table and looked at the ball of fire which had turned a vibrant green with wisps of black smoke. The fire died suddenly and the charred hairless flesh smoked as Wagon turned, still hovering by his magic, toward Klothur.
Wagon’s face cracked as a smile formed, black steam hissing from various parts of his body as green fire dripped from his mouth.
Klothur took a hesitant step back, glancing toward Kortan whose mouth hung open.
“Kllth!” Wagon called, his voice as damaged as his flesh; rough and gurgling as he breathed in excitement to see his mate with his new catlike green eye while the other swirled, filled with black smoke.
“W-wh-wh-?”
Before he could finish the word, Wagon was inches from his face, eliciting a scream of panic from the small centaur who scrambled back from the pony who transversed the table length in nearly the blink of an eye.
A strong grin crunched across Wagon’s face as black smoke engulfed them both, whisking them back along the path Wagon had once feared, to his room and through the crack in the door before they reformed in a puff of green fire.
Klothur tumbled to the floor gasping for air before looking back and taking a fighting stance, ready to punch then kick at the creature before him.
“Kllth, Wnn.”
“...Wagon? What Kortan, DO?!”
Another cracking noise as Wagon smiled and the smoke focused around his legs, landing him to the floor and aiding his walk towards Klothur. His entire body seemed to be steaming and cracking and his features brightened, as best they could, sending a wave of nausea through the centaur.
“Kllth. Wnn. Nove mngk.”
“Oh. Uh, um… No, is okay… No make love, see healer, now.”
Wagon’s features fell and a cracking sound came from his legs as he levitated into the air, his one eye glowing green. “Kllth. Wnn. Nove mngk,” he said chewing on his tongue as he tried to speak.
A look of disgust was what Wagon received. “No.”
““Kllth. Wnn. Nove mngk!” Wagon growled before black smoke coated the floor, solidifying into a heavy crust that stuck Klothur’s legs to the floor. “Kllth. Wnn. Nove mngk,” he said smiling slightly as he hovered behind the creature.
“No, no touch me! Help,” he yelled as he felt sharp prickles along his hips. Looking back he saw Wagon mounting him, to his horror he glanced at the rough, jagged, blistered, huge member swaying under Wagon just before it vanished beneath him. “No, please, no! Augh. Augh... Augh~!”
He grunted in pain as he was penetrated by Wagon’s burning hot member; his seasoned experience in a herd of males was meaningless against the large and painful sensation burning inside him with each thrust. The sound of crunching flesh behind him and the feel of it crumbling onto his back sent him into a panic as he turned and tried to push, punch, hop, and wiggle free.
Every movement encouraged Wagon to move faster and press deeper until, after only a minute, he finished and collapsed onto Klothur’s trembling back, his skin scratching cuts into Klothur’s horse back.
“Mate done, now, leave me body, please,” he stated without looking back.
The squishing, crunching sound that was made: The feeling was unlike any Klothur had felt as Wagon pulled out; he shuddered as he felt something brush the back of his rear leg. Wagon floated in front of him and reared to show his cock.
The yells and shouts of disgust from Klothur resounded through the entire area of the building as he looked at the bleeding, skinless dick waving in front of his face.
Wagon began happily swinging it and sent blood across Klothur’s face before he lowered to eye level, just outside Klothur’s reach.
A smile on his muzzle and a tear in his eye, Wagon spoke.
“Wnn, Kllth, nate. G’in.”
Klothur’s eyes widened as he realized what was said. He shook his head vigorously. “No, no mate again,” he said as Wagon floated behind him again.
Klothur looked back and retched a dry heave. The skin from Wagon’s member was hanging from him, still inside his body, resting against his right rear leg like a used prophylactic… Just as Wagon’s body blocked the disgusting view and returned behind the trapped centaur, grabbed his hips again, this time using the smoke which burned the centaur.
The burn was persistent, as was his screaming in pain, as Wagon entered Klothur again, grumbling happily.
Klothur sobbed as he stood, unable to move from the painful assault from behind him. He held himself, arms tight across his body as he felt the blood running down his legs and the bumpy, rough member entering him until Wagon’s balls slapped against his. The guttural noises grew deeper as the crunching grew more distant between thrusts until a final push signalled the end of their third and final session.
The black cloud puffed and evaporated beneath them and Klothur fell to the floor, disgusted.
He vomited.
He wept as he felt Wagon lay on his back and grumble contently.
He didn’t want to look back at the creature that he had loved, that had changed so suddenly, that had just hurt him in such a disgusting way, but he had to see.
He felt his stomach cramp as he vomited again after what he saw.
Red, blistered skin covered most of Wagon where his char had rubbed off and coated his horse back in a black dusting.
Blood pooled lightly beneath Wagon as he dozed to sleep, a smirk on his blistered and red face, blood oozed slowly from cracks across his body as the green fire seemed to burn inside him, replacing the blood he lost in a never ending cycle.
My love.
My husband.
My life.
By my side.
Wagon the Violator and Klothur the Centaur.
Together, forever.
Wagon the Violator
Caged
By Mocha Star
I hear a ringing in my ears, not terrible, but it’s nothing compared to the throbbing in my head. It feels like I’d just tried to cast a high level spell, or try levitate a huge boulder to impress some cute filly.
Ouch, is what I mean. It hurts from the base of my horn to the middle of my neck. I don’t even remember why it hurts… Where am I?
It’s dark, my legs are free and so is my body. Maybe I can just… OW! Darndarndarndarn, Celestia damnit, my head: owowow. It’s okay to shed tears, just, don’t cry too loud over the headache. Ouch, ok bad idea…
“Okay, note to self; don’t cast magic right now.”
Wagon Puller looked around his area as his eyes adjusted to what little light filtered in through the metal door. It looked like an industrial refrigerator door, but he didn’t know how he’d gotten there. Standing he noticed his horseshoes had been taken off, with a shrug he walked to the door and tapped it with his hoof.
“Hello, um,I think there was a mistake; I’m not supposed to be here. I don’t know where I am,” he said to the door, “but I don’t think this’ the right-”
A mares' blood curtling scream sent his ears flat to his head as he recoiled from the door.
“H-hello?” he asked slightly louder, expecting the door to answer. Another, shorter, scream echoed through the room, the sound of panicked shouting from beyond the door followed.
“P-please, are you okay out there?” he asked, taking several steps back, watching the door intently.
The panicked noises grew louder as the light entering the room was broken, and he could hear and feel, through the wood floors, the scrambling of hooves just outside of the door. He moved back farther as the screaming mare was dragged past the room and, as her voice faded, he began to tremble.
Hours passed in silence as he paced the spartan room. A bed, a window that had been boarded with metal bars over them keeping him in inky darkness, creaky wood floors, and the door. He had eaten several hours prior and was beginning to worry about when he’d be released and go to the restroom.
His ears perked as he heard distant scraping sounds.
“Hello? My name is Wagon Puller, I’m from the city. Can you let me out please? I have to use the colts room, please,” he asked hurriedly at the crack where the door didn’t quite match the frame.
The dragging sound got closer, passing his room. His heart sank as he prepared to use a corner, maybe widen one of the cracks in the floor? No, it could end up on some other pony who didn’t even know he was locked in this room.
There was a scratching sound before the dragging sound began again, only this time, it stopped right in front of his door.
He grinned happily as a latch on the outside clacked and groaned before the door was pulled open.
His smile fell when he saw a hornless centaur sneering at him. The creature was naked, standing a hoof taller than Wagon, with almost too skinny ‘arms’ and little things at the ends; like skin was wrapped over the bones for show.
In its left hand was something bright white, but he couldn’t tell what it was, he held only part of it, the rest out of the door frame..
“S-sir, may I be allowed to use the colts room?”
Without a word the centaur began to enter his room, forcing him back onto the bed and then against the wall before the creature stopped it’s approach, nearly at the bed, glaring a look of death at the pony before him.
“S-s-sir? What have I done to offend you? I’d like to make amends-”
With a toothy smile the centaur stopped Wagon’s train of thought. The sharp canine teeth that nearly gleamed in what little light entered the room, had made Wagon want to do what he knew was right; run away.
“The pony lays down, and looks away,” it said in a hiss. Wagon complied and turned his head, listening as the hoofsteps retreated and the door began to close.
He laid there for a minute after the door sealed. After the hoofsteps left the area in near silence again before he turned his head to the door with a huff, not expecting to see another pony in his room.
A white mare, attractive from the rump he could see. Cutie mark of two pieces of paper folded over each other with a pin between them. She was asleep.
He looked at her and debated waking her, but instead he chose to wait until after he’d chosen a corner to relieve himself in.
He picked the one nearest the foot of his bed and went, shamefully praying she didn’t wake up while he was going.
He finished and grumbled that there was no way to clean himself, before going to the mare and placing his hoof on her flank, shaking her lightly.
“Um, miss? I’m sorry to wake you, but I think you should know we’re in a bad place. I don’t know where,” he said with a bit of softness as he shoved her a little harder, “I don’t think the princesses know about it. We need to write a letter when we get out, or go see them in person” he said, trying to make light of the situation.
“Miss, are you alright?” he asked as he walked around around her and looked at her. Her mane was covering her face with multiple colors added and he noticed a spiked collar on her neck.
His heart numbed slightly at the sight of some gothic pony. He’d never have a chance now, he might as well wake her kindly though.
He nudged her neck. He tried asking her name and telling her to wake up as his panic grew. He moved to her front and laid down parallel to her before moving her mane away to see her.
He screamed and scrambled back at what he saw, feeling his heart pounding just before unconsciousness embraced him.
Wagon woke up nearly muzzle to empty hole in the center of her face, with the corpse in front of him, making him scream again scrambled back to the wall as he stared at her visage. He turned his head but couldn’t look away from the horror that he saw.
“Her face,” he said, trying to make sense of what he saw, “is gone… eaten? B-b-b-but,” he stammered, looking at the muzzless face and empty eye socket. Both eyelids were gone, sharp bite marks down to her skull over her missing eye told him where the eye probably was.
“S-she’s… I pray Celestia is watching over her,” he said quietly before he walked around her and climbed onto the bed, staring at her motionless body.
“Dear Celestia, please, help me…”
Hours passed before hooves clacked on the floors outside his room again, stopping outside his door.
He remained silent this time, sitting tall, ears erect, controlled slow breathing as he waited, prayed, for them to leave, or maybe take the mare out of his room.
The latch clicked. The door swung open. Standing there were two small, hornless centaurs; nearly the same as the one who had deposited the mare in his room. These were wearing cloths and tool belts around their lower torsos though.
Without a word they entered the room and each pulled a large knife and quickly went to work cutting the mare open and spilling her guts and organs onto the floor before quickly dressing her.
Without paying mind to the stallion who laid in shock, and slight curiosity, upon his bed; one cut her organs from her body while the other began to filet her skin.
Wagon gasped after a long minute, his body needing the air he’d forgotten to breathe in, he exhaled it in a blood curdling scream, scrambling back, nearly pushing his mattress off the bed as he tried to climb the wall.
He tried to cast a spell to push them away, to save what he could of her. He shouted in pain as his head throbbed, making his vision swim.
The two butchers chuckled as they began to separate her legs from her body and toss them, unceremoniously, from the room into the hallway.
The blood pooled and began running through the cracks in the floor as they each finished most of their work.
In eight minutes the two of them had turned the once beautiful mare into a carcass. The one that had skinned her wore her hide as the other grabbed her neck and dragged her from the room; leaving a trail of her entrails and blood across the floor; trapping him on his bed.
He had stopped screaming as they had begun to toss the remaining parts from the room into the hallway, but he couldn’t stop staring at the carnage; the carefree way the two had worked. The expertise they had used. The smiles they wore until the end.
Without another word or thought he laid his head down and trembled at the images that he knew would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Time passed, but he didn’t know for how long. He’d turned and had been looking at the wall. The stench of meat and what made her alive, made her unique, lay splattered on the floor mere lengths away.
He’d cried for Celestia knew how long, knowing sleep wouldn’t come. All he needed to do was sleep and he could at least try to tell Luna about what had happened. Maybe she could do something.
The latch on the door clacked and before he knew it there was a noise behind him.
He didn’t have to look to know they were cleaning up their mess; some of it anyway.
“When will I be let go?” he asked openly.
“The pony will say no more words,” a male voice said, “the pony will come with us or end up like his kind.”
He shivered at the thought of having his face eaten; or worse. He looked to the ceiling as he climbed off his bed; his eyes looking down to see the diabolical creatures as he followed one out of his room.
A scream came from several rooms down the hall as he felt something hard hit to the side of his head.
“The pony looks tasty. We will make a lot of money from your magical meat,” he heard from behind him as he held the growing bruise on his head.
“Celestia and Luna will stop you, bastards.”
Another strike to his ribs sent him to his knees, nearly crying in pain as the two stood to either side of him.
“The pony will wear the shame of his kind,” was what he heard as he felt a blanket across his body. It was chilly, though. He looked back to see white and knew what it was as he shouted in disgusted fear, bucking blindly, trying to get it off.
It had just enough blood left left on it to stick to his fur as he felt the panic building. He opened his mouth to scream but felt something shoved in.
Soft. Cold. Metalic.
He bit down instinctively and gagged at the taste that filled his mouth and ran down his throat. To the hilarious joy of his captures, he had begun to vomit, spitting the mare’s organ from his mouth.
“The pony does not like where babies come from? It is most tasty,” one of them said between laughs.
A spark of disgusted rage flared in Wagon as he looked at the closer one and heaved with all his might, a retch worth of vomit upon his body.
With a growl and sneer the centaur reared and clasped his hands, coming down hard onto Wagon’s head, sending him to the floor. Vomit sprayed from his snout, mixed with blood as he tried to get up.
He felt hooves on his neck, holding him down. He could feel the chunks of what food he had left in his body getting caught in his throat as he fought for freedom.
Is this how I die? On my own vomit? In some dark place without my family and friends? he thought as he felt his body beginning to spasm.
“The pony will wish for death before the end comes. Now that you have sullied my coat and flesh, you will have to wait for the moment to be free.”
His stomach and upper intestines empty, he felt sleeps final embrace approach as he was lifted and his body squeezed, his airway clearing, and the disgusting flavor of meat and vomit that permeated his senses of taste and smell as he was let to fall to the floor, unconscious.
His body hurt, his mouth stung, and his stomach was cramping as his eyes opened against his will. It was pitch black. Against his better judgement he tried to cast a light spell. A slight flicker lit the cage he was in before the pain struck. He regretted what little he did see.
He lifted his head and grunted as his head hit the ceiling before he tried a futile effort of escape and screaming for help. His hooves scratching against the wooden floor sent slivers of pain down his body.
Pegasi feathers of all colors and sizes were scattered in the cage as well as dried blood. Once he’d calmed down enough, he poked the sides to find they were hide. He figured they were most likely pony hide, as he moved to the center and huddled down.
The sounds of movement were nearly constant, as were the sounds of the centaurs speaking in their native language. He listened as they passed by his cage and winced as it sounded like they were going to come for him.
A stallion was screaming, the voice coming from the distance before it became close enough he could tell the pony it belonged to was near him.
“Help! What’ve I done? Not again, please, not again!” he screamed as a snapping sound was heard, sending the unknown stallion into a screaming pain filled rage and Wagon into a tighter ball in the center of his cage. He hugged and stroked his tail while he trembled as the screaming stallion was thrown into a cage near his, the screaming non-ceasing.
The hide covering his cage was moved and a giant hand opened the door while another reached in and grabbed at him. He scrambled away and kicked at the offending appendage as it closed around his right foreleg and yanked him out with a shout of pain. Wagon saw his cage was in a large stack of others.
Each covered with a pony hide, some tanned, some rotting through. His was second from the bottom of what seemed to be eight heigh. How many held ponies in them, he wondered.
A deep, smooth voice spoke as Wagon was lifted to eye level with the fully grown centaur. Easily as large as a giant tree with horns the size of most houses and sharpened teeth that filled its mouth added to the terror in Wagon’s mind.
“So, this is the unicorn you brought me? I’d expected something, better,” it scoffed as it tossed Wagon to the side, landing him on a soft table sized for the giant creature.
“Enjoy my bed, for when you’re mine again, you will hate it,” he said snapping his fingers.
Several centaurs Wagon’s size climbed onto the bed and approached the stallion.
“W-what’re you going to do? Why are you keeping me here? Please, will one of you tell me anything? Why are you looking at me like that… no. No. NO!” he screamed as the creatures jumped him, turning him to his belly while scratching him with sharpened fingernails. One lifted his tail while another mounted him while another climbed over his head.
His screams only encouraged them until each had a turn, leaving the sobbing stallion, bleeding from his ass and the many scratches across his coat, to lay in the mess they’d made.
He whimpered as the last one patted his back. “The pony has done well, much more than the mares. The next will have a lot to live up to,” it said leaning over Wagon and kissing the top of his head while another wiped his just drained cock across Wagon’s muzzle.
The large centaur came over and leaned down, looking at the pony on the bed.
“You have bled on my bed? What a filthy creature you are, to defile my bed in such a way,” the creature mused.
“P-please,” Wagon wept, “you’ve had your way with me. Let me go now, please.”
“Oh, I haven’t had my way with you,” he said grinning sending a new wave of terror through Wagon. “Yes, look me over. Imagine what I can do to you,” he said standing tall and taking a pace back, turning to the side.
Wagon’s eyes looked the centaur over in fear, stopping at his sheathed member Wagon began trembling and mumbling as the giant bellowed a laugh.
“Oh, silly pony. To think I’d sully myself with one as small and worthless as you.”
“Th-then, let me go,” Wagon said trying to stand. The burning, stinging pain had spread across most of his back half and he couldn’t even sit. Moving his tail hurt more than he could ever imagine t, sending worse feelings to where he was just violated.
“I will do with you as I please, little pony. I am Kortan, tasked with finding the next to bear His true mark. The pony will have to survive what I do to it before we even see if it’s worthy of finding if it’s worth the mark; so, let’s begin. What is your name?”
“W-Wagon Puller, sir.”
“Bwa-ha-ha! Oh, you ponies and your names… Always the joke of the world. Okay, Cart Tugger, move to my hand and I’ll let you go.” He placed his hand at the far end of the bed and smiled.
Without another word or hesitation, Wagon began in earnest to drag himself across the cloth bedding by his forelegs. It may have been an arms length to the giant, but it was nearly a block in length through blinding pain. Wagon kept his eyes on his goal as his forelegs tired nearing the end and he collapsed.
He looked to Kortan with sad eyes, trying to muster up his foalhood act of begging when he noticed a table just past the centaur; set to its height and covered with tools and other devices, probably of torture.
“D’awww, the poor pony gave up so close to his freedom. How, expected.”
Panting, Wagon looked up with pleading eyes. “Please, just let me go.”
“When I am done with you, what just happened; you will beg for it,” Kortan said leaning in so close Wagon could see bones of ponies in his teeth.
“Please,” Wagon whispered, “I just want to go home.”
“If you wish you may give one of my minions your address during your next session with them. They can send a hoof to your family. Maybe yours, maybe not. They’ll never know, but they’ll have their answer.”
With a heavy gulp, Wagon laid his head onto his forelegs and sniffled.
He felt a pinch on his sides as he was picked up like a small toy and moved back to his cage.
“The little pony will have to wait his turn. Good luck to you and your,” Kortan chuckled, “stallionhood’s recovery.”
Wagon laid flat in his cage, unable to curl from the stinging pain in his ass. He’d tried to wipe the yellow cum from his face but it’d crusted far quicker than any he’d ever given a mare. Probably being a different species they had different seed, he assumed.
He felt the cages rattle as another pony, a mare this time, was taken. Screaming for her freedom after hearing what had just happened to him she begged and pleaded.
After hearing the introductions he felt a spell being cast; a couple minutes later her screams sent shivers down his spine. Her pleading for him to stop and the others to let her go went unheeded.
Then he heard something that would have made him vomit, if he had anything left.
The noise had stopped for a moment before a barely audible crack was heard, following more screaming from her and laughter from them.
“My wing?! Oh, Celestia, you broke my wing! No, augh, stop, not in there, it hurts too much, you’re ripping me open,” she screamed before making a gagging sound to the delight of the centaurs who were filling her every hole.
Wagon covered his ears with his hooves and began to hum loudly. He finally found some peace from the terrible sounds. Every couple minutes he would take his hooves off to listen, hoping it would be over for the poor mare, only to hear it continuing.
Nearly half an hour passed before he felt a powerful spell being cast, then the cages moving again and listened, hearing Kortan speak.
“Little mare, you have pleased me. As a reward I will let you see what I do to the next pony, so you may appreciate how lenient I’ve been with you,” he said to the whimpering mare. Unable to move his tail from the pain, Wagon still managed to lower it more to guard his ruined ass.
“Ah, the elder one,” Kortan said, “time to see if he will bare the mark,” Kortan said with annoyance as the cage above Wagon opened with a creak and a low grunt from its occupant. “A unicorn, perhaps the irony will please Him.”
What did this monster have against unicorns?
There was a clatter, as though space was being made on the table, then silence. Kortan mumbled for a moment before a clacking sound of metal was heard, like a wrench, only larger.
A sharp shout of pain, then silence.
The silence was almost more torture than being raped by several creatures.
“Bah, another failure,” Kortan grunted, “take this one to the cannery and have him sent back to his family,” he said dejectedly. “I’ve been tasked with the impossible, why did I agree to this nightmare?” he said to himself, “find the chosen one. A task that is as ludicrous as it is impossible.
“One pony out of the hundred thousand in this land. I’d have better luck convincing Celestia and Luna to surrender,” Kortan groaned at the proclamation.
Another centaur began conversing with Kortan in their native tongue, the conversation lost but the defeat in the monster's voice was plain.
Wagon laid his head on his forelegs and sobbed quietly as a terrible sensation became known.
He had to go to the restroom…
The longest day had passed and Wagon had been unable to sleep for longer than a few minutes. Everytime he’d turn or move the pain would flare up and the cramps from holding it in, the fear and pain he knew would come, outweighed the cramps he was having. The fact he was hungry made it all worse.
His mouth was dry and the flavor of vomit and what little semen had found it’s way in had almost finally gone away. He smacked his lips and shook slightly before he let a smile cross his face. He’d moved his tail and it didn’t hurt as bad. He moved his rear legs and, even though it was sore, he could curl up again.
That lasted a mere moment as the urge became too much. He knew he wouldn’t be let out so he chose a corner far from the door, squatted, and let his body relax. He shouted and winced at the burning pain as his bowels released their contents quickly; the scent wasn’t as horrible as he’d expected, but it was still unpleasant.
He groaned as the liquid streamed across the floor, covering it with fecal juices. He couldn’t see but he could feel it running across the floor.
He really wished he’d taken the corner by the door as his toilet.
More ponies came and went. Raped, bones broken, and it sounded like one was skinned while alive then eaten with a salad… Wagon couldn’t help but lick his lips at the thought of eating the entire time Kortan had his meal.
“Ah, yes. Thank you, I’d forgotten about your pet… You’re a bit smitten with him, aren’t you,” Kortan teased one of his kind who grumbled. “Oh, don’t worry, none will know. I’ll gather him.”
A few paces and the hide was moved, blinding Wagon to the morning light that filtered through the windows of the factory warehouse he now noticed he was in. Old curtains covered most of the windows that were too high for him to hope to reach without wings.
The warehouse had been filled with cages, a dozen piles were stacked in triangles up to a dozen high with small centaurs walking between and around them.
Most cages had hide covering them, while others had the hide pulled back, showing their empty status.
“Ah, he is awake and has decorated his home. How cute of the little, naive pony,” Kortan cooed as he opened the cage and took Wagon out. Turning to the table he trotted around it and found a spot he liked before placing the pony down.
Without word or warning Kortan grabbed Wagon’s left rear leg and bent it back quickly until he felt the telltale feeling of a bone snap. Wagon yelled at first before clenching his teeth and bearing the first shock of pain.
“Well, now. We seem to have a unique pony here,” Kortan said twisting the broken leg, finally getting the shouts of pain he longed for. He let the twisted leg fall to the table and watched as it slowly unwound itself, showing tears in the pony’s skin and blood speckled coat.
Turning his head away, Wagon clenched his teeth and growled through the pain.
“Well, this is quite the unique pony. What would you say if I were to break all your legs, little pony?”
Wagon forced his head to look at the centaur whose mouth was as large as he was before sneering back. “Buck you and your entire race, you’ll never break my heart.”
“Bwa-ha-ha-ha,” Kortan bellowed in laughter before leaning back down to look at the pony closely, “I can, indeed, break your heart and the last thing you see will be that happen. As for now,” he said snapping his fingers with a sly grin, “time to take a break and loosen up.”
Wagons eyes widened as the table trembled and three centaurs climbed to the tabletop. Two from the previous evening were looking at him, hungrily.
“Please, not again. I haven’t healed, you can’t do this! The princess will find out and you’ll be punished! You’ll never get away with this,” Wagon shouted as one of the centaurs mounted him from behind while another stood over him.
Wagon watched in restrained fear as a long, thin cock emerged from the safety of the centaurs body, stopping against his forehead before the beast moved back and waited.
With a hard thrust he was penetrated from behind. The sharp pain made him yelp, and then he felt something in his mouth. Warm, hard, salty…
He prayed to Celestia he’d be found soon…
He laid on the table coughing fresh sperm from his lungs, trying his best to not swallow any more than he already had; regretting the fact that it actually felt good to have something in his belly, even if it was a horrible thing and way it’d gotten there.
His ass didn’t hurt as bad this time, but he felt the burn as much as before, if not more. He forced himself to his three hooves and wiped his eye on his fetlock.
“Are you done yet?” Wagon asked defiantly, earning him a chuckled from the giant who had just watched him be raped.
“Oh, not quite… There is something unique about you-”
“Yeah, go spell yourself! You’ve said that already. Let me go, bastard.”
“No, I think it’s time I have a little fun,” Kortan grinned.
“Oh, you’re going to take a turn inside me? Fine,” he said, turning and raising his tail to Kortan who averted his eyes from the anus that was leaking blood mixed with bright yellow centaur seed.
“I am not that type of stallion. My fun is more in the pain variety,” Kortan smiled as he placed a finger to the flank of the wounded stallion and turning him.
“You’ve already broken my leg and it may never work again. You’ve destroyed my ass, which is something I never thought I’d say. You’ve won; just let me go.”
“Colt, it’s not about winning or losing. I have a task I was given and you’re just another piece in a puzzle that seems to have no solution,” he said taking a knife from under the table and sliding it across the table.
Wagon took a hesitant step back as it was raised, the tip was lowered to the base of his horn. He stumbled back, shouting as his broken leg moved too fast and he fell.
“Oh, pathetic,” Kortan said reaching and gripping Wagon in his grasp and holding him still as the knife spun in his hand, landing between his thumb and pointer finger, holding it tight and balanced.
“Stay quiet and I won’t make a mistake, that will make one of my minions very sad.”
“W-what’re you going to do to my horn?”
“Well, it was damaged back when you were brought in and dropped, so I figured I’d help with something,” Kortan said as he loomed darkly over Wagon, lowering the tip of the blade to Wagon’s horn, “don’t move or you’ll regret it,” he said as he quickly stabbed the knife tip into Wagon’s head at the base of his horn.
He flinched and tried to scream, beg, pull free, but nothing worked as time felt like it slowed down. He felt the pain in his body dull and he looked at the tabletop move while Kortan worked on his head. With an odd feeling that was like his headache was being pulled from him he smiled.
“That wasn’t so bad,” he said looking up at Kortan.
“This, is a most interesting development…” Kortan said looking at Wagon with a sense of awe, “you don’t feel stupid, or pain, or the desire to die?”
“Why would I? It’s nothing compared to what’s going to happen to you,” Wagon smirked as blood crossed his face and began to wet Kortan’s hand.
“And what will a failed experiment like you do to me?” he retorted turning the horn over in his hand and looking at it, “the fact you have not yet gone insane is meaningless. You bear no marks or identity that I was told to look for, now you will join the others in the cages and left to be a plaything.”
With a sigh, Kortan turned the horn until it was straight up and then held it tight before spitting on it and squeezing Wagon tighter, the blood began running out of his hornless head quicker before Kortan stabbed the horn back into his head, upside down, smoothing it with his finger into Wagon's skull as best it could fit.
With a deep gurgling sound Wagon’s eyes rolled up into his head and he began to convulse as Kortan’s grin grew. He let him fall to the table and spasm.
“And another failure is dealt with...”
