The Manor in the Woods

The afternoon light shone dully through the slats of the manor's shuttered windows, casting bands of luminance across the two figures struggling in the darkness. A streak of ivory, a flash of mottled brown, periods of stillness broken by brief, frantic motion and muffled, plaintive cries.

Rarity lay on her back as, looming over her, the griffon's colossal figure cut through the darkness, a primordial thing birthed of fevered dreams. He presently cupped the underside of her head in a massive, clawed hand, rubbing her cheek with his thumb before another spasm of fear nearly broke his hold. He tightened his grip as she attempted to cringe away from him, and in the tussle one of the straps on the leather muzzle binding her mouth came loose.

"HELmmph!" She cried as the griffon swiftly replaced the flexible sheath over her jaw and, as her forelegs scrabbled desperately against his sides, leaned to tug the strap back into position. The buckle clasped shut with a satisfying snap, and the creature's hand lingered only a moment longer over the muzzle to ensure its firmness before lifting up and back down to delicately adjust the blindfold over Rarity's eyes, which had come askew in the struggle. He wiped the tears from her cheek, gazing down at the quicksilver fluid glimmering in a crack of sunlight streaming through the shadows. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together in a circular motion as he spoke.

"You can scream if it helps, but you're only going to give yourself a sore throat."

With that, he bent his haunches and pressed down upon her. She convulsed under him as she felt feathers drag against her chest. Further down her body, the coarse fur of a lion- his own chest- rubbed against her belly. The pressure grew, and within moments Rarity found her chest straining against his weight with each breath. She could feel his own heart beating forcefully against her own, and she was afraid.

In a sudden motion, the griffon tucked his arms around her back and rolled, flinging the surprised Rarity onto his chest, their positions reversed as he chuckled playfully at her confusion. She immediately attempted to rise and push away from him, but his arms locked behind her back and slowly dragged her whimpering form back down to his. He puffed his cheeks and exhaled, blowing the tangled purple locks from her face. His left hand remained looped over her side, pressing down against her back; his right explored the contours of her flank, tracing small circles across the gemstone relief.

The unicorn's legs kicked past his sides, and for the first time Rarity truly grasped the dimensions of her captor; straining for the bed's surface below, her hooves found no purchase. He inhaled, and her body rose- the whole of her length was perched atop his neck and chest. He nuzzled her with his beak, parting her mane and nibbling her ear, the razor edge sliding with great care across white velvet. She shuddered in quiet fear as his right hand ran back up the length of her body, settling over the back of her head and pushing her face gently, but forcefully, into the downy feathers adorning his neck. This drew out another startled yelp as her breath quickly filled the limited space, forming a pocket of trapped heat along his throat. He sighed contentedly as Rarity bucked her head with increasing desperation. He finally relented, and she popped back up with a heaving gasp, her lungs inflating as his own chest sank between breaths.

"I'm sorry," he rasped into her ear as he pushed her away from his face, along the length of his body. She became aware of something warm brushing against the exterior of her thigh, and the realization forced all the color from her face. Before, she was flushed with panic; now that feeling was quickly bleeding from her body, replaced with a cold and clammy dread. Before she could process this, his hands wrapped firmly around her shoulders and spun her, again landing her on her back, legs kicking weakly at the air above. She shrieked against the muzzle as his hand grasped her roughly by the horn and wrenched her head back until her mane brushed against the underside of his beak as he lay and stared past her at the ornate ceiling beyond. He shut his eyes and slid his free hand across her belly, lingering to trace around her navel before proceeding to the space between her thighs.

There came another spasm of motion as she fought against him, but with a quick tug of her horn all motion came to an abrupt end. She had seen what his strength could do. He angled his head forward and rubbed his beak against her wet cheek, as he slowly relaxed his grip on her horn and began to stroke it tenderly. She lay in terrified silence, eyes clenched shut beneath the blindfold.

The griffon's other hand spread its digits across her groin, the tips of his first and last fingers- razor claws cautiously retracting- poking against her trembling inner thighs. His middle fingers curled into her, inciting a gasping spasm as his thumb brushed against her sex. Her pulse quickened as he drew his fingers together and cupped her pubic mound. She batted the air with her aching legs, her hooves bouncing off the griffon's muscled wings as they closed gently around her form, cocooning her in a dense blanket of feathers.

Rarity's breath quickened with fear as the world closed in around her. She mustered her failing strength in an attempt to pull away from the griffon's grasp, only to be forced back down by the hand gripping her horn. He reticulated his fingers around the pristine ivory surface and resumed his stroking with renewed vigor, forcing the air from her lungs as she gasped and arched her back at the sudden stimuli. At the same time, a terrible warmth began to spread through her lower belly and into her thighs as with fingers coarse, but careful, he began to knead her sex between his thumb and forefinger.

"Hnnnnnnnmph," came her urgent, muffled cries. "Hnnnnnmmnnn!" The griffon's beak clacked quietly as he observed the rapid rising and falling of the mare's chest, laying his head back against the bed's sumptuous pillows and inhaling in turn, his chest rising to support her arched vertebrae. He could feel a tremor shake down his victim's spine as his persistence began to bear fruit. Her own horrified cries began anew as her abductor steadily pushed her to climax. Rarity felt her lips tingle, the world spinning under her. She was hyperventilating, the terror and arousal driving the oxygen from her blood in rapid, shallow breaths. She gasped for air in great choking sobs, even giving her captor pause as he allowed his wings to loosen their grip around her body.

She clenched her thighs around the griffon's hand, desperately squirming in an attempt to force him from inside her. His hand flattened itself against her pubis and continued unabated. He ignored her cries as Rarity's legs ceased their flailing, at once buckling under the tide of pleasure that rolled through her body from her horn to her cusp. The griffon froze in mid-breath, feeling her form tremble atop his own. He withdrew from her, his one hand releasing her horn: the other parting her thighs with a gentle nudge. He raised his hand, turning it and regarding the slick sheen that coated its surface.

His sigh was heavy, as though laden with regret. He nuzzled her ear with his beak, whispering.

"It won't hurt."

She felt his erect member pulse against her outer thigh with renewed urgency, and as he brought his hands to her sides to slide her into position, a single thought dominated her mind:

Somepony, anypony, help me, she cried into the black void beyond the blindfold. Help me...