The Manor in the Woods

Stars exploded in the darkness before Rarity's eyes as her captor's loose grip guided her quickly down his length, filling her and bottoming out in one sudden motion. A familiar warmth bloomed in her belly, so recently stimulated that it immediately reigniting as she took him in. She seized up, her lungs halting in mid-breath, spine arching against the interlocking feathered wings that met in the small of her back, holding the two writhing forms together. Her forelegs trembled over his shoulders as time unfroze and her chest heaved to relieve the sudden burning in her lungs.

The unicorn's head lolled back, a muffled cry giving way to a moan as he gave her no time to recover, immediately re-asserting a firm grip over her hindquarters and slowly drawing her, taut as a bowstring, back up his slick length. Hefting her by her haunches, he rubbed his beak against her chest, inhaling through his nares. She smelt of fear, sex, and lavender perfume. He brought his forehead to hers and felt her breath, hot and rapid as it poured from her delicate nose and washed across his face.

He brought her flanks back down, savoring the exquisite squeal she released as her nub rubbed delicately up and down his erect form. He felt her hind legs twitch with his most recent stroke, and, sharing with her a mutual gasp, his hands reacted instinctively to spread them further apart to painlessly accommodate his bulk. The pearl unicorn was unbelievably tight around him as he thrust, her thin frame fitting around him like a glove just a size too small.

Rarity, for her part, was beyond reason. The first thrust had sent her mind reeling; the second and third only compounding the blankness that had settled over her mind as the strokes came with increasing rapidity and growing force. Her head bobbed forward and back with each stroke as her exhaustion eroded her to limpness in the hands of her captor. He was working into a rhythm now, slowing when her cries were sharp and tinged with discomfort, starting up again and maintaining his rate until the cries came out as soft, muffled moans. He brought her up again, her wet hindquarters trembling in anticipation-

At the crest of his stroke, his wings tightened around the small of her back and drew her chest again to his. His beak slid across her silk-padded face and poked through her mane, nibbling at her hair before drawing down to the silk straps that trapped her in mute darkness. His beak closed around the dark ribbons securing the blindfold and with a rough tug they came undone, letting the blindfold drop away from Rarity's face.

The sun had set now, and the bedroom was lit solely by the wan light of the rising moon as its sickly beams dispersed through the shuttered window. Even in this blackness, reddened as they were by fear and stress, her eyes glittered, a pair iridescent sapphires, ice hewn from the heart of an ancient glacier. They froze his heart, blinking tearfully up at his gaze with eyelashes seemingly spun of delicate glass. Her tears had blurred her makeup into long streaks, but he didn't even notice.

Without a word, the griffon angled his beak and tugged at the straps gagging her with silk and leather. With a final snap of his razor beak, the last buckle came undone and he nudged aside the muzzle, revealing her delicate mouth which drew fearfully away from him as he nuzzled her softly. "P-please, I'll do anyhmph!" With that, he opened his beak wide and  locked his mouth over hers, his wings folding over the nape of her neck. Her forelegs gripped his shoulders weakly as she at first tried to twist away from him, but her struggle came to an abrupt end as he mumbled, his mouth still gripped over her own. "You'll get cut." He pressed his beak against her mouth with renewed vigor, a razor edge that could rend flesh from bone crawling across her lips with tender care. His tongue flitted across her trembling lips, but finding no purchase with her own, withdrew swiftly.

He loosened his grasp, allowing her mouth to fall away from his. A thin gossamer strand of saliva briefly bowed in the open air between their two mouths for the briefest of moments before breaking, falling- as he squeezed her flanks and guided her back down upon his member. The two shared another gasp of pleasure, her unmuffled sob joining his rumble in the darkness. She was too tired to scream now. Her mouth hung open, panting as she wrestled to clear the fog of arousal and fear from her thoughts. Her eyes were distant, glittering like faraway stars, wincing with each stroke that brought her up and down his length.

He increased the tempo now, bringing his hand fully around her hips and bringing them gently, but forcefully to his own. The mare's mane bobbed back and forth with each swing; hiding her face as he buried himself inside her, bobbing back over her shoulders as he lifted her up to repeat the thrust. He pushed up while pulling her down, her body quivering around his. He could feel her around him, the beating of her heart within her breast, the halting, ragged cycle of inhalation and exhalation. He felt the walls of her passage clench ever tighter against him as he again limited himself to slow, massive thrusts that rubbed past her sex and bottomed out inside her belly. She was burning up, sweat trickling down her face, her chest. He leaned into her, flitting the tip of his tongue from his beak and licking her body as he brought her back down upon him in a great, wrenching thrust that teased forth a stifled cry of pleasure from his victim. He felt her walls undulate around him as a building orgasm rose from her thighs and broke like a cresting wave across her belly, She cried out, a staccato crack that was followed by halting silence as she struggled to force herself to breathe in spite of the lightning that crackled through her veins, up her vertebrae. Her captor grunted as she clutched her hooves to his shoulders, clenched her belly, and strained to bring her thighs together, increasing the resistance against his member. He dove into her with full force.

He gasped, bringing her down upon him with as much force as he was willing to. He had worked up a good rhythm, but there was no need to maintain it any longer. His beak fell open and brushed against the mare's shocked, expressionless face, his own breath hot, his feathers slick with perspiration. He brought her back down with one final stroke, feeling her insides push against his- and the tide broke. He rumbled beneath her, loosing more a shrill, fierce cry of a bird of prey than a moan of pleasure. Rarity shuddered and fell limp at the sound, her mind desperately racing through the possibilities of what her captor might do with her once her usefulness as a tool of pleasure had run its course. He twitched and spurted within her, jamming his eyes shut and clutching her tightly to his chest with his wings. The two panted heavily past one another as the heat began to dim.

Rarity felt her attacker squeeze her flanks one last time before flattening his hands against her coat and sliding them up to the small of her back, one knuckle pressing down upon her spine as he massaged his way to her shoulders. The griffon relaxed under her, pushing his head against the headboard, allowing his body and hers to slide gently back into missionary atop the bed. There came a soft swish of velvet as his head rolled back into the disorganized bedlam of pillows where he lay in silence.

Rarity fought to control the nausea that crept up her throat as she felt his seed within her, stifling another sob as he withdrew from her with a soft schlick. It took her several minutes to recover enough to try to speak. "Please," she choked through quivering lips. "J-just let me g-"

She cried out in terror as he wrapped his arms around her pale, trembling form, hugging her close to his body as a strange fit overtook him. The griffon screwed his eyes shut, face contorting as though in great pain. His body shook under hers, and his breath came in short, ragged bursts. His arms slowly pulled away from Rarity's back as he held them aloft, clawed hands shaking, clutching themselves into fists overhead with white-knuckled intensity. She could only lie atop him, paralyzed with fear as his chest quaked against hers in alternating bouts of quiet agony.

Within moments, it was over. His hands descended around her shoulders with a grip that was as steady as stone, pulling her forward until his face met hers. He rubbed the tears from her cheek with length of his bill before wordlessly clutching her to his neck, arms interlocking over her back as he buried his beak in her mane. A shuddered breath broke the silence as he turned his cheek against the back of her head, the tension slowly bleeding from his body. Rarity felt something wet roll past her ear and down the underside of her jaw before vanishing into the tangle of the griffon's snowy down.

The room descended into quiet, and soon the nocturnal symphony became audible alongside the griffon's metronome breathing and the unicorn's stifled sobs. A hushed susurrus of humming nighttime insects and baritone frog's calls filtered through the shuttered window, now casting bars of pale moonlight across the floor perpendicular its frame.

Minutes felt like hours as calm descended over the room. Rarity lay motionless, sprawled across the griffon's chest, back rising and falling slow rhythm. Her performance was impeccable, so much that her captor himself would not have realized her deception if not for the rapid pounding of the mare's heart and the soft twitching of her nose as she struggled to contain the sound of her sobs. She felt movement.

He clutched her tight between his neck and shoulder, lifting a hand from her back and reaching for the bedside table. Rarity could hear the soft clink of glass as he rocked gently back onto his back. The hand remaining on her back now moved to her neck, where it gingerly nudged her head up and out of its nest among his downy shoulder feathers. Held before her face was a thick crystal container roughly the size of a perfume bottle. Inside its thick panes squatted a dark, viscous liquid. The stopper had been removed. The griffon's voice was a rumble no longer, now barely more than a guttural whisper. "This will help."

Without warning, he held the crystal vial to her mouth and pitched it forward, giving Rarity mere moments to clench her lips shut and loose a quiet cry of protest. The griffon was silent as the fluid began to drain along the underside of her neck, bringing the hand that had been holding her shoulder now to the side of her head, grasping it firmly. He slid his thumb and forefinger along the side of her mouth, eliciting panicked grunts from the mare as his probing fingers gently nudged between her sealed lips, parting them effortlessly. Rarity shook her head weakly against his hold, but within moments the cold glass neck of the bottle was lodged firmly between the crack in lips, its dark contents slowly filling her mouth with a thick, gritty mixture of molasses and ground rootstalk. Her strength long-since spent, the unicorn could only pad her hooves against the pillows past his shoulders as her captor whispered into her ear. "It's okay, it's okay," he rumbled, placing a massive paw across her face, once again swaddling her in darkness. She tried to spit out the concoction, only for his tight grip to force back all but a tiny, pathetic dribble that drooled down under her jaw. Drawing back, Rarity flared her nostrils to inhale and try again.

A thin streak of air whisked into her nose before the the griffon's hand clamped down with greater firmness, forcing her petite nose down against her face. She strained again, this time drawing nearly nothing at all. A dread heat began to rise in her lungs; she was suffocating. The mare gurgled in fear behind the mouthful of fluid, her exhausted limbs twitching back and forth in the darkness. "Swallow," he urged. The heat in her lungs was rapidly rising into a burning ache. Still she twisted, writhing in his grasp. With greater force: "Swallow."

Rarity struggled to sound out a final, burbling cry before choking down the sweet, lumpy mixture. The moment her gulps subsided, his hand withdrew from her face, releasing a tide of tears and painful, hacking coughs. His hand returned, bearing a plain  kerchief that shone in the moonlight as the griffon cleaned first her tears before moving on to her neck and mouth, wetting the fur and carefully expunging the sticky mixture from her coat. He cast aside the kerchief and brought his arms back to her body.

Rarity lay in desperate confusion as he hugged her body to his own. What had she been forced to imbibe? What was he planning- what was going to happen to her? A cold, clammy fog descending over her thoughts, throwing her into a quiet panic as the minutes ticked by in silence. She shivered against his body as an icy tingle worked its way up her spine; he squeezed the mare gently in response. As if on cue, the ornate grandfather clock rang out the hour. She was overcome with a sudden vertigo as her head rolled off his chest to bury her face into the downy feathers of his shoulder.

Thoroughly panicked, Rarity strained to lift her head- only to find it weighted down. A cold sweat broke out across her body as she tried to flex her muscles in turn, each contracting weakly but not responding to her frantic commands. In a final, desperate bid she inhaled and screamed, screamed as loud as she could- but the noise that left her lips and buried itself into her captor's shoulder was but a pitiful rasp that faltered, dying completely as her eyelids sank shut, entombing her in darkness. Her breathing began to slow as the clock ticked on.

Her fears dissolved as drowsiness overtook her. A lightheaded euphoria bubbled up from a well deep within her chest, urging her to lie still in the comfort and warmth of her lover's embrace. She felt only the warmth of the body clutching her to his chest, heard only the rhythm of his beating heart as she drifted slowly into unconsciousness. She felt safe. Her struggle at an end, she slipped beneath the surface and was gone.

He lay awake.

He lay awake, staring up at his hand, at the five smears of dried blood that streaked, like the trails of bizarre comets, from the corresponding claw marks located at the base of each finger. His other palm bore the same painful stigmata. He let them fall to his sides, gently caressing the sleeping Rarity before drawing the bed's sheets over their intertwined bodies.

Hours passed, the night's symphony ebbed and flowed. He remained awake, eyes affixed to a point on the paneled ceiling. The griffon lay on his back, wings folded, the slumbering mare curled at his side. He had draped one of her forelegs over his chest, his own arm hugging her to his side as lovers would. Finally, as the morning's first light began to creep over the horizon, he rose from the bed, replaced the covers gently over her pale form and dismounted the sumptuous bed to tread lightly across the hardwood floor, lingering briefly at the bedroom's threshold. His eyes were rueful as he disappeared behind the creaking teak door. Minutes later, there came a heavy click as the deadbolt slid into place. His padded feet swished softly across the manor's wooden floors as he paced to the windows to watch the coming of the dawn.