Training Enclosure
Diamond Dog Encampment

“What do you mean ‘dying’?” Rarity asked as she lay hanging in the harness, shocked at Raarg’s revelation.

“That is not your concern. What is your concern is obedience. Slaves obey. They are rewarded for it. Defiance and failure will be corrected with pain from now on,” said Raarg.

“If death is not my concern, then I am left with defiance, dog,” declared Rarity as she got her hooves under her.

“Is that so...,” Raarg paused, “Rarity.”

At the sound of her name the bridle about Rarity’s head flashed anew with ebon and verdant lightning. For a full five seconds the world went away into a universe of pain as her nerves were directly and deliberately overloaded with pain. Her hooves again went out from under her and as the shock faded, once again the holding frame was the only thing keeping her upright. Her head hung limp as her resistance died aborning.

Raarg lifted a coiled whip up under her chin and raised her eyes to his, asking, “Now, will you obey?”

Tears flowing from the pain, Rarity croaked out, “Yes...master.”

That had been three hours ago. Since then they had been having her do what they had called ‘movement training’. Raarg and his pack had been having her walk in a circle around Raarg. The width of the circle defined by the length of the long chain lead locked to the unmovable bridle around her head and Raarg had been having her shift from a walk, to a trot, to a canter, to a high stepping prance and back again. In the beginning, it had been easy.

Rarity had spent many hours on a fashion runway and as a student of Equido, so she knew how to move with both control and grace. As she moved her body through the gaits the drop rings on the harness she wore rang and chimed out a merry, tinkling song that changed with every shift of her gait. She had found herself falling into a sense of mindlessness with her motion and the music of the rhythm of her body.

But mistakes were inevitable and whenever she faltered in a gait or failed to lift a hoof quite high enough, Raarg or one of his fellow dogs would send a whip snaking out to leave a burning caress of chastisement over a shoulder, a hip and even once curving up her inner thigh. Worse, Rarity was tiring and mistakes were becoming more frequent.

For the fourth time in ten minutes Rarity gasped as her flank was stung again by the tip of a whip. She had recovered smoothly after other whip strikes, but this time her gasp became a stumble, which then became a trip. Before she knew it she had fallen heavily to her side, head outstretched as the lead had been pulled taut in the fall and had laid out her body in a line with the lead.

Within seconds Raarg had slid into a cross legged sit beside her and was lifting her head onto the cushion of his lap. All she could do was lay there stunned from the fall, trying to get her breath back as Raarg barked out a quick series of orders to the rest of the approaching dogs.

“Growf, get the water and wet sponges. Chopper, Two Fang, check her legs and hooves for damage. Rorg, you check ribs, heart and breathing.” As the dogs went into action Raarg carefully ran his paws over Rarity’s head and neck, probing for wounds. Finding no obvious ones, he began to stroke the unicorn down the length of her neck. Rarity’s breathing began to steady and Raarg locked eyes with each member of his pack. As he did so in turn, each one shook his head to Raarg, indicating he had found no lasting injuries.

“It’s okay, Valiente,” Raarg murmured after the assessment, “you’ve just had the wind knocked out of you. Just lie easy and catch your breath.”

Rarity didn’t hear the last part. With the mention of her other name one of the functions of the enchanted bridle sealed onto her activated and echoed, “Valiente, valiente, valiente” in the vault of her mind. Rarity began to try to struggle to her hooves, or at least to a resting position. But Raarg easily overpowered her attempt with the simple expedient of pushing her head further into his lap. The leverage he had being more than a match for her stunned strength.

“Lie still, Valiente,” Raarg commanded her. As the echo of the name faded in her head again, Rarity decided that lying there really was the best option. The exercise, the whip strikes and the fall had combined to turn her whole body into one big ache which still had her mind in a daze. She let out a huff of air but lay still as Raarg continued to stroke her from forehead to withers. As Rarity felt her body calming, she saw a dog come scrambling up into her field of vision with a water bucket but Raarg waved him off.

“Go get the carry poles,” Raarg told Growf. “I don’t want her walking after a fall like that.” A couple of minutes later poles were attached to some of the drop rings along the top of the harness and Rarity was smoothly lifted once more from the ground. Two things were different this time. This time her legs were free and they dangled a few inches off the ground. That wasn’t a problem. What was happening to her back end though made her gasp.

The training harness was apparently rigged differently than the restraint harness from earlier. When she had been lifted in that harness all parts of her had been supported at their natural points. This harness however, was different. When the upward strain came into this harness the straps at her rear pulled on the strap around her tail, lifting it high into a flagging position. At the same the straps that went around her inner thighs dug in and together they pulled apart the lips of her sex. Exposing her and combined with the induced tail flag it looked like she was begging for a stallion to cover her.

Even though none of the dogs could see Rarity’s exposed marehood from their positions Raarg must either known or suspected what was happening. As a few bare moments after Rarity’s gasp Raarg ordered his dogs into a jog toward the holding pens. The bouncing motion had the effect of releasing and pulling on Rarity’s lower lips repeatedly. Which had the effect of imitating the natural winking action of a mare in heat. By the time they reached her pen, only iron discipline kept her from moaning out loud at the physical stimulus.

Gently, Rarity was lowered onto a bed of soft hay. She let out a sigh as the pull on her tail and vaginal lips eased off as the poles no longer carried her weight. She turned her head to complain to Raarg but he neatly interrupted her saying, “Valiente, have I ever mentioned that my people have a very sensitive sense of smell?”

Rarity blushed furiously.

“Get the bruise cream and let’s massage her legs so her muscles don’t knot up,” Raarg told the dogs around him, letting Rarity deal with her embarrassment. They scrambled up out of the pen to obey their leader, returning a few minutes later with a couple of small jars and a small bucket. The smell of honeyed oat porridge wafting out of the bucket set her empty stomach to rumbling.

“You haven’t been fed since first thing this morning. You must be hungry, Valiente,” Raarg said to Rarity, placing a paw on her shoulder.

“He has to be saying my, that name so often on purpose,” Rarity thought to herself as the mental echoes faded yet again. “Well, neither repetition from him nor this overblown fashion accessory are going to get the better of me!” Aloud she said, “Some food would be wonderful Raarg. I’m absolutely famished.”

Taking his paws off of Rarity he scooped up a double pawful of the warm porridge and held it under her muzzle. The delicious smell of honey and oats flowed up through her nose and set her stomach to audibly grumbling again. Despite her hunger she looked Raarg in the eye saying, “Surely, you are joking? I am more than capable of feeding myself.”

“Everything now comes from the paws of your Master,” Raarg said. “If you wish to eat, you will take the food from my paws. Otherwise, you go hungry.”

Rarity sighed. She wasn’t going to win this fight either. She had to find some way to effectively resist or she might as well surrender right now. She would think of something later, but right now, she was sore, and tired and very, very hungry. As daintily as possible she began to nibble at the porridge. It tasted better than it smelled. A moment later she was almost inhaling the food and before she realized it she was licking Raarg’s paws clean.

“Oh, sorry,” Rarity said, blushing anew.

“Think nothing of it. You were hungry,” Raarg assured her with a mild grin. “Now lay easy and let us take care of you.” With that he directed the pack around her. Chopper and Two Fang, the largest of Raarg’s pack, stripped off the training harness and began to rub a medicinal salve into her legs and flank. Their powerful muscles kneading and rubbing tired muscles and abused skin. The salve and the massage warmed her muscles, kindling a warm glow that spread through her body. The aches and pains began to fade into the pleasant warmth. As Rarity began to feel her head and eyes droop, Growf, the smallest of the pack, began to massage her neck and the back of her head. Further relaxing her toward inevitable slow sleep. She realized that she shouldn’t be this relaxed, this quickly. She knew she should be alarmed at this but it was becoming hard to separate her awareness from the warmth slowly taking her over.

“There was more than honey in that porridge, wasn’t there?” murmured Rarity in a very quiet voice.

“Yes, there were some herbs for pain and to relax your muscles. You’ve done well today, pony. You’ve earned your food and some painless sleep,” came Raarg’s quiet voice. “One last thing before you rest. What was the name we gave you?”

Unthinking of any possible consequences and almost asleep, in an almost inaudible voice Rarity murmured, “Valiente, you named me Valiente.” As the name emerged from her own mouth the bridle around her glowed for a moment and sent a pulse of pleasure through her causing her to let out a small moan. It was her last conscious sensation as the massage, the warmth, the herbs, her full belly, and the bridle all combined and conspired to carry Rarity off to sleep on a cloud of pure bliss.

Author's Note

Rarity continues her slow descent into submission and slavery as Raarg chips away at her resistance and free will.

Yes, this is a short chapter even though I had previously said chapter 5 would be a long one. And I had written 7,000 words into it. Then a few days ago I hurt my hand and could not type at all for most of a day. But it gave me the chance to really go over what I had written. I realized I had written 2 or 3 small chapters and had just slammed them together. I decided I could do better.

So, I decided to separate them, flesh them out a bit more and begin incorporating some of the better suggestions I've seen from my readers into them. I hope I've done well by you all.

Chapter 6 and 7 are already roughly written, so 6 will likely be out on the weekend and Chapter 7 a few days after that. The focus on those chapters will be in Canterlot as secrets and consequences of previous actions are revealed.

As always, shout outs to Damaged and Cross Lament. If any of you are thinking of writing you cannot go far wrong by listening to what they have to say. Now...where is that 'publish' button...