That'll Teach You To Help People

Chapters

Abuse Of Power
Rampant Consumerism
Blind Date, Foreseeable Result
It's Fluttershy
Outnumbered
School Still Sucks
Kratosing
Setting It Up
A New Job Offer

Abuse Of Power

It had been roughly a week (five days, not counting the first, but that was more of a half, even if it felt like the longest) since Matin Saylin had gone from “aloof virgin” to “Cutie Pie”, the mind controlled… minion officially, but sex slave realistically, of the three superpowered teenagers Adagio, Sonata, and Aria. As long as he wore the enchanted necklace they had so generously donated him, Martin would eat, shit, wish he would die, go to school, do his homework, and obey the Dazzlings, in descending order of enthusiasm.

The experience of being a mind controlled fucktoy was probably most comparable to doing homework before his “capture”, because it was a painful obligation he could never escape. The necklace had given him a series of ideas, then given them Alpha priority in his mind. To disobey them would feel wrong, and that was apparently all the reason he needed.

And as he’d noticed within seconds of his capture, he literally didn’t sweat being the a sex slave and tool for world domination. It was strange (well, internally inconsistent), because he still got boners of his own free will, but palpitations, faster heart beats, or irregular breaths all seemed impossible (except when having sex). And while in theory he was glad that he wasn’t passed out, on the verge of a heart attack and smelling like he was already dead 24/7, he’d figured it would at least have gotten him noticed. Instead, every moment he was outside with other people (particularly the magical six), was like walking past a million closed rubber suit stores on the way to the electric chair.

It was at times like these, however few they are, that one comes to appreciate every free choice they have. Look at the mass of blue, orange, or purple sitting at the desk in front of me, who I asked Celestia to put in classes with me, or keep looking down and pulling a “don’t think of cats”? Decisions, decisions.

His fear also went beyond just what position he was in for that night. When he did return to his apartment, being ordered to strip down and lie on the bed or go help them go online to decide the next piece of his future slave boy ensemble was almost a relief, considering phase two of their plan, which he knew would leave him with somehow less sperm and dignity, had yet to be initiated.

Every afternoon and morning, they would weigh the pros and cons of different targets;

“Celestia’s in charge!”

“But he says the six are the magical ones!”

“My pussy, my stomach, and necklace are all hungry! Can’t we talk about this tomorrow?”

And then they would give up and have their strange ways with Martin. If they were always this productive, he figured earth was perfectly safe.

Aria was the most well-rounded of his rapists. She may have given him his new name and wanted him to call himself a slut, but she also wanted to play with her toy, not just look at it in the box. Five days, 18 Martin rides with very little variation. When they used his laptop, she searched for cockrings, a comfy bed, and male versions of their clothes. Not that there was anything wrong with how they dressed.

Sonata, on the other hand, was the most affectionate, albeit in the way that the 40th volt from the chair hurt the least. She wasn’t afraid to order him to thrust back, so every morning he’d plow her while she ate breakfast, suck on her tits for his breakfast since he could hardly sustain himself before when had a job, (the first time, he thought she was just being stupid, but it turned out it actually worked, and he instantly came in his boxers out of arousal), and then feel her up in the shower. Judging from that, plus how she was most interested in searching for tuxedo’s and honeymoon spots, she clearly thought of him as her boyfriend in her own twisted way. Martin easily hated her the most.

And finally, there was Adagio. He’d only felt her folds five times, because her searches for remote controlled vibrators, engraved collars, and bondage suits showed what kind of position she wanted him in. The only consistent thing about their sex was that she was always the doer (except when he was eating her out of course, but she always pushed his head in to make herself feel better). She might tickle him, or spank him, or tease him with a feather, or stroke him off. Point was; she was never hard pressed for ideas. But whatever she did, she did it with that stupid, sexy smirk on her face, that just said “I’m evil, and I’m getting what I want. You’re fucked.” with a single facial expression.

It’d been less than a week since his capture, and a life without their control, without their pussy’s, and without constant noise complaints from his neighbors was already becoming distant to him. But that didn’t mean he was close to surrendering and becoming their willing honey-hungry cumpump, not by a long shot. Sonata, Aria and Adagio’s curse could prevent him from clenching his fists or even squinting when they hoved into view, but he still hated them. They could give him erections, and make him cum, causing him to curse himself and his weak will but… Wow. Couldn’t even give two examples.

Every little thing they did to him, from simply looking stunning to makeing him cum until he felt like his dick was raw and was shooting blood just felt So. Damn. Good! He’d learned they fed off negative emotions the night after they met, and in hindsight he should’ve been constantly reminding himself that erections were a reflex evolved long before consent laws, and that the chocolate cake one was choking on would still taste sweet, but that would’ve taken the solidest cool under the gassiest fire (he’d aced chemistry the year before). Instead, he’d wondered what kind of pathetic slut enjoyed being raped, and tried to shame his boners away. And thanks to this, his mistresses hadn’t had to sing a single song to feed since they’d found him. CHS, and the rest of the world, hadn’t even given up a white exclamation point to the Dazzling yet.

This was what he was pondering in Mr. Discord’s class on a Wednesday (though “class” was used in the loosest sense of the word. Or “cents”, as he seemed to think it was spelled, seeing as how he tended to toss out pennies whenever someone called his inane ramblings out) when the bell rang, once again startling him out of his thoughts, and signalling the beginning of lunch.

The other students, including Fluttershy, quickly began filing out as Mr. Discord continued to ramble. Martin was too startled to stand up, but when he looked to his right as Adagio passed by and gestured towards the door, he became terrified to stand up, but still did it.

With the same slight-smile that he’d forced on himself since he realized looking glum to other people might not be in his mistress’s best interests, he slung his thrift-store backpack over his shoulder, and followed Adagio out the door. Once in the hallways, she no longer the need to even look at him as he obeyed, and both both of them joined the human flow down the hallways towards the cafeteria.

He’d done the dance twice before, but like many aspects of his enslavement, it wouldn’t be until long after the hundredth time before he felt any better about it. Every step was like walking down to the basement all over again, even if he thought he knew what was coming and that he should be able to wait it out. For the most part, school was now the only place he felt even marginally safe or independent; surrounded by good natured, if oblivious people, and able to make many of his own, albeit inconsequential decisions, like where to sit or how to do a math problem. But lunch, where the school theoretically allowed students to go wherever they wanted, was an unwelcome dose of reality because he was going to eat in the library with the Dazzlings and the whole school new it.

When a boy is sent to greet three gorgeous teenage girls, then immediately starts spending all his time with them both during and after school, people tend to get suspicious. Of course not the helpful kind of suspicious, and that was a constant source of frustration, but he’d also admitted he the world would be in a very different place if people were quicker explain perfectly normal phenomena with mind controlling demon girls and cursed necklaces.

Speaking of the necklace, it was the other half of why he couldn’t bear to look at himself in the mirror anymore. The purple stone and gold chain were the only outwardly visible parts of his captivity, and whenever he saw it, felt it hit his collarbone, got ready to take a shower, or had it stared at, it felt like their was a massive weight holding his whole body down.

Socialization, like grades and rent, had seriously sunk on his priorities list, both because of the necklace, and because of the necklace stressing him out.( so really just because of the necklace). He hadn’t gotten very far into the community before his capture, but the other students seemed to have forgotten aloof didn’t mean deaf. Some thought the two orphaned parties simply found sympathy in each other. Others were slightly more observant and thought the sisters were competing for this teenage hunk. Pinkie thought his soul had been split into three parts, and he was trying to reconnect with it, but at least she was upfront about her theory, and offered to throw him a guess-what were the Rainbooms could play… soul music! Ha! Ha! Ha! (as stupid as that pun was, it was the first laugh Martin had since his capture).

But regardless, even Adagio was absorbed into the mosaic of colorfully dressed humans at the bottleneck of the door, and so was Martin. The CHS student body never jostled each other, but wading through the warm, loud, somewhat smelly mass was never very pleasant.

As he continued in though, he first caught the scent of tomatoes and garlic, then human curtain slowly parted, and he was once again in the massive auditorium that said “fuck you, Martin” with all its bright cheeriness.

Without pausing or looking up, Martin swung right with the rest of the students into line. He recognized the mint-green hair in front of him as belonging to Lyra Heartstrings, but he cared more about looking past the line at Granny Smith’s buffet to see if he was going to be discussing love on an empty stomach.

“*Phew* Pasta,” he thought. But in the same view he noticed a ball of orange, and how close the buffet was getting. He briefly cast a glance leftward, and saw Sunset, Fluttershy and Rainbow were already deep into their meals and conversations. “Lucky them. Not having any mind controlling teenagers in their- dammit! Forgot again!”

It wasn’t important to his mission how many pieces of garlic bread he got (one), or if he looked Big Mac in the eye while he got them (he didn’t), but it was important not to stall, so although Martin was probably the first person in history to wish a line would go on forever, he carried his tray back out the door in two minutes, and pushed the heavy library doors open again with his foot in four.

It wasn’t as calm or lonely in the beautiful glass domed room as the Dazzling’s would have liked, but past the few students that day (today just Cutie Merit Crusaders), up a short but for-Martin very difficult flight of stairs, and into the seats at the small table past the shelves, they felt at least 70% safe in discussing rape, mind control and world domination.

Even after all they’d been through together, when he sat down with the Dazzlings, or in this case just Aria and Adagio, he still felt like a superspy sitting down to dine with the villain as they explain their whole evil plan instead of just shooting him. Admittedly, two thirds of that trope applied to his current situation, but it still felt a little formal for girls who were never more than 12 hours away from fucking his enchanted brains out.

Just like the other day’s, he’d lost his appetite the moment they slid into vision coming up the stairs, but he thought he’d also get it back again after a few minutes (stress doesn’t do wonders for one’s eating either, though he knew starving himself wouldn’t work), so he set his tray down and looked up into their stunning… smiling faces?

Something was very wrong for him, right for them. He’d been too busy pondering to notice it on the way in, but their conversation had stopped as soon as he came close, and now, they were looking across the small rounded table with content smiles that were normally reserved for his bedroom.

With a great sense of horror, Martin realized that for all his previously justified dread (as in, “he had it before, and it was justified”, not “it used to be justified, not it’s not”), he realized that he’d been able to wait lunch periods out before. But now, he could feel he was about to become very actively involved.

“So Cutie Pie, you ready for your first actual assignment?”

When Aria confirmed his fears, though he couldn’t budge in response, he approximated his feeling to having one’s body heat fail, stomach run a lap around one’s body, and bladder turn to toilet paper.

“Ohfuckohfuckohfuckthisisit!” he panicked, once again feeling trapped in his body, unable to move, talk, or even sweat.

The girls both gave a slight shiver as his fear flowed into them with a force they’d not felt for a while, but they’d still gotten used to a constant stream to some degree, so Adagio continued.

“I’ve decided…” she shot a sideways glance and smile at Aria, who gave a sideways glance and frown back, showing their rivalry really was omnipresent. “-That to cripple a nation, one must first disable it’s leadership.” She leaned in further, either out of secrecy, or mock secrecy.

“P-”

“Celestia and Luna?!” Martin shot out, causing both of them to jolt in surprise. Obviously Martin could still talk, but he mostly only did so to answer direct questions for his mistresses of for school. The process was starting to feel strange on his throat, and he was just as surprised by his blurt as they were.

“Uh, yeah,” Adagio said, leaning back into her chair confused.
“Yeah. Just, you know, go to her office and uh, do your thing,” Aria instructed, also recovering from her shock.

Martin’s mind was already a mess of strange thoughts at this point. Canterlot was a city of wonderful people, young and old. Of course, the fact that they were all in Canterlot and not spreading their wonderfulness to the rest of the world might make one question it, but point was, Celestia and Luna sat firmly at the top of the wonderful pyramid. They were both stunningly beautiful, their faces flawless and hair impossible. And though they may have made attempts to hide it with rather unassuming senses of dress, they easily had the largest breasts and most perfect asses in town, to which almost every student, male and female, had gotten hard or wet to at least once (another thing that made Canterlot wonderful, as long as you weren’t a bigot).

But they were about as far from bimbos as one could get. Having had to do all his meetings and paperwork himself, Martin knew first hand of their kindness, intelligence, character and even humor that gave everyone who lusted after them a far greater deal of respect than beautiful woman were usually given (sadly, that is to say no-one called them sluts to their faces).

Everyone, including Martin had wanted them, but it was like lusting for goddesses, they just seemed so grand and distant. And now Martin was going to have sex with the both of them to help his musical mind-controllers take over the world. His response summed up his thoughts on the matter perfectly:

“Okay. Uh, any tips?”

Okay, maybe it didn’t, but before they could answer he felt two unusually warm hands on his shoulders.

“Memorize the tune, not the lyrics. Fill the air when you sing, and imagine everyone in their underwear if you get nervous,” chimed a cheerful familiar voice. Martin turned his head up to join the two A’s in staring at it’s source in confusion. “What? What’s what you guys always said when I asked that question?

The first morning, Adagio and Aria and Sonata had actually given him permission to roll his eyes if Sonata was being stupid enough, and now was a time for counting one’s blessings.

“Will I be the the rapist, because I’m giving her these emotions? Or will she be the rapist, be-”

“Come in.” His panicked mental ramblings stopped, and his fate apparent, Martin steeled himself up and opened the door.

Few people in the world can learn to get true satisfaction out of any kind of menial paperwork, but ever fewer can deny that satisfaction to look up when a student knocks on their door to, in all likelihood, bitch and complain. Two thirds of those people lived in Canterlot, and they’d all learned it from Principal Celestia.

Seeing her happy, welcoming expression and soft purple eyes melted the steel, and all Martin’s built up guilt returned.

“Martin! What brings you by this hour?”

He knew that was her unmalicious way of asking why he wasn’t in Physics class right now, and somehow started feeling even more ashamed. It was over this past week though, that he’d realized how good of an actor he was, so he calmly shut the door behind him with a normal expression, all without taking his eyes off her.

“It’s about the girls,’ he said, in accordance to the semi-plan he’d reluctantly thought up on his way there. His tone conveyed neither happiness nor concern, but as always, there was activity underneath.

“Have a seat,” Celestia offered, and Martin cursed her for being so friendly. If she told him to fuck off, or at least kept their conversation short, she’d be safe as all his teachers and classmates usually were. But his plan had been built around her personality, and if it didn’t work he was to retain her attention through any means necessary, so she was literally and figuratively screwed.

“I really think they’ve. . .” Martin pulled up the seat, but with first horror then relief realized he hadn’t actually planned out what he was going to say about them.”. . .Been making some progress.”

“Oh? How so?” Celestia put her hands together on the desk and leaned in.

“God dammit Celestia! You’re supposed to be smart! You’re making this too easy!” Martin thought, but wished he could say.

“Well… uh, I think their branching out the friend circle,” he repeated the line he’d often heard in his etiquette classes.

“Really? So their making friends already? That’s great! With whom?” Celestia followed up. Her constantly calm, motherly voice also hid a deeper meaning. She understood that it could take quite a bit of time to adjust to a new school, especially when you don’t have any parents, and you’re more likely to hang on to what few friends you have like life-preservers, but she was still slightly worried about the so-called Dazzlings. They acted and dressed provocatively, but always seemed to hang around Martin. Was this just their shared personalities that had evidently brought them together outside the foster care system, despite them not being related, or was it to mask their shared insecurities? She had, after all, learned their de-facto family name when they’d entered the school musical showcase under it, bragging about their singing prowess. But the next day Adagio came in and said they had other plans.

“Well, me. And I think they’re warming up to Derpy.”

And speaking of Martin, what was his deal with them? Of course, a person sympathetic to your pasts who greets you at the front door is very easy to grow attached to, but the normally aloof Martin had spent an hour giving them a tour, and now she was being told they were spending all their lunches together in the library, and seemingly walking each other home. Not that she blamed them for wanting to spend as much time with the boy in front of her, but still, something was fishy.

“Derpy? Well good for them!” Celestia cursed herself this time for being too obvious. But really, Martin was now lying to her face about their social progress. If she left this alone, the girls could easily end up alone to. Except for Martin of course. It looked like they’d always have his pleasant company.

“And what have the four, or, *chuckle-hmm*, five of you been doing together? Is it anything other students might be interested in?” This was a genuine question. She knew during lunch they just talked, but what they did in the evenings before going home might hold the key to their social problems. But Celestia didn’t even register Martin’s answer, because she was too busy realizing where her train of thought had led her.

“It doesn’t matter if they are having foursomes. The six have orgies all the time,” she reminded herself. But that only made her remember what she’d imagined her students did to each other in their spare time, and those ideas had given her almost as many orgasms as Luna.

She chanced a look at Martin’s body through his brown t-shirt and jeans, but for some reason couldn’t help but picture him between (crossed out “her”) Adagio’s legs, or on his back as (crossed out “she and Luna) Aria and Sonata rode his face and cock. There was no denying it, Martin’s physical attractiveness was beaten only by Big Macintosh’s, but it was a close call.

Celestia’s jaw relaxing as her eyes begin tracing one’s figure sets off alarm bells, but in the same way seeing orange monkeys vomiting house-shaped onions did: because it’s never supposed to happen. Martin knew the spell was working, and continued to talk as he pondered what was going to happen next.

When he’d first put the necklace on, he’d learned other objectives besides obeying his mistresses; He had to find women, or at least the women he was ordered to find, but all he had to do was hold their attention for long enough, and the necklace would do the rest. In a crowded room, the necklace wouldn’t waste it’s power on everybody, but along in a room with three or less females, and they’d start wanting him and wanting him until they couldn’t control themselves. That was where the official instructions ended, but the Dazzlings’ mouths weren’t limited to music, so had managed to piece together the more terrifying half of the plan.

Once they had had sex with a female, they to were cursed. This particular thrall necklace had been programmed to infect them with Class B Sirenity, meaning that they’d be linked to the necklace owners to both obey, and behave like them.

The red-stoned ring he carried in his pocket was one of hundreds back in his apartment. They/he had the potential to make a whole school of demons like the Dazzlings, even though there were far too many Sonatas already. Before, he’d been counting on the girls incompetence and the magical six’s ingenuity to save them, but right now, as he watched his principal and dare-he-say role-model lick her lips, he realized there were indeed no brakes on this train.

“And sometimes we even to MATH homework, which we all have trouble with because there are just so many numbers and we tr-” Martin tried to continue the conversation, not to distract the six-foot-two deity now ogling him, but because it wasn’t in his mistress’s best interests if they just stared at each other all day. He was terrified by her response to his attempt at starting the ball rolling (he’d looked it up. It means to start an activity to set off a chain reaction), but certainly not disappointed.

“Martin shut up,’ she said flatly, and Martin complied, almost glad he didn’t have to ramble any longer. But to his surprise, she opened up and began sifting through one of her desk drawers

Martin’s terror was renewed as he wondered what she could possibly have in her school drawer that would be appropriate for the situation. But then he realized it was CHS, and became more terrified as thoughts of vibrators and maybe even full on strap-ons came to mind.

“Put these on,” she commanded as she proceeded to toss something over the desk into his lap with a clink. All her parental compassion was gone from her voice, and she spoke as if frustrated.

Martin looked down and recognized the object as a pair of funny pink handcuffs that Adagio had searched for what she wasn’t feeling very ambitious. This meant one-point-five things: 1. The kindly mother of an authority figure who saved CHS thousands on a guidance counselor had a seriously kinky side (though again, CHS, so everyone at least somewhat suspected it), and 1.5. He was about to experience it first hand, and get actually tied up for the first time in his life.

Or was he? After at least seven seconds he was still staring down at them.

“Wait,” he thought as he slowly turned his head back up to the glare of an impatient Celestia. “Do I have to obey you? I have to have sex with you, and this appears to be the best way to do that, so logically I guess I should. These are the kind of technicalit-”

“Martin, put them on behind your back, stand up, and be quiet, or else you’re expelled. Do you understand me?”

“Uh, yes mistress,” Martin responded instinctively, giving Celestia a brief smile and twitch, both for his compliance, and how good that title sounded. He took the handcuffs and stood up, intentionally shoving the chair back behind him. He looked down at the cuffs, and obediently pulled his hands behind his back and began fumbling with them. He already felt a prisoner in his own body, so he believed being tied actually tied up was the definition of redundant at this point, he clasped the half comfortable, half cold contraptions around his wrists without much mental trouble.

Upon hearing the satisfying clicks of Martin being made helpless (again, he thought, jokes on her), Celestia stood up and walked around the desk the left, and Martin turned to face her. Because she was so tall, Martin felt like he was craning his neck to actually look at her eyes and not the two watermelons beneath her suit jacket.

Still though, something didn’t feel right, or at least familiar. This wasn’t anything like what he’d envisioned. For one, her eternally soft face was giving an unimpressed frown. And in general, save for her scanning purple eyes, she seemed as calm and in control of her emotions as ever. He’d always imagined the female rubbing her thighs togethers and twitching their dominant hand while the conversation continued, not cool, collected authority like this. Where was the psychotic animal-in-heat the spell was supposed to bring? And… why was he feeling a twinge of disappointment at that?

“Martin,” she finally said after her eyes had scanned all the way down to his feet. “You are a strong, confident, smart young man who had the potential to change to world. You know that, right?”

Martin was puzzled. She was talking like she did whenever he’d failed a test or was otherwise feeling down, but he’d just put on fluffy pink handcuffs for crying out loud! Did the spell make people insane, or unable to distinguish their emotions? EIther way, he didn’t want to incur her wrath with another delayed response.

“Uh, yeah.”

Suddenly, her eyes went wide as saucers, her pupils small as an atom, and she bared her perfect teeth with a grin that could make even Adagio cross her legs.

“Well then it’s too bad you’re too cute for your own good! C’mere!”

Nevermind. Found the animal.

She hit him like a freight train, charing into and wrapping her arms around his back to pull him against her. For a split second as she pushed, time stood still as his feet were lifted off the ground, and the room blurred around him. Then his back was slammed into the wall audibly and uncomfortably. His head whipped into the wall as well, not hard enough to damage it, for their combined arms absorbed most of the impact, but enough to sting and take him a moment to notice her tongue had already forced it’s entrance.

Like Aria’s before it, and Adagio’s before that, her beautiful face filled his vision as she closed her eyes and kissed him, shoving her longue tongue what felt like all the way down his throat, then swirling and dancing it around like a warm, wet snake. But any pleasure this might have brought him was negated by how, between the wall, her arms, and her body (especially her breasts, which he could feel scrunching against his chest through her suit), it felt like she was trying to crush him to death. And judging by how powerful her arms and torso felt, that seemed well within her capabilities.

She didn’t let up either. She pushed her body harder and harder, and twirled her tongue faster and faster. and although he might’ve been sexually assaulted once or twice in his life by now, Martin felt sheer terror at violent onslaught against his body. He had absolutely no power, and felt the helplessness of Aria’s first song return.

“But wait, did I just wriggle? I thought that was imp-!”

Like a bolt, she killed his train of thought be sliding her right arm out from behind him and squeezing his crotch through his pants like a vice.

She hadn’t broken her lip lock, so he could only shift slightly under the pai- well, no one word describes the feeling of having one’s balls squeezed through one’s pants. His mind sprung back to when Adagio did it on their first date (that’s what Sonata called them), and realized that not only was Celestia seemingly stronger than any of the Dazzlings, but she was also felt like cold like a statue compared to their supernovas of bodies.

The idea that she wasn’t like the Dazzlings also reminded him of what was really happening. This wasn’t Celestia grabbing in crotch, and moving her hand up, and sliding her fingers under his shirt and into his pants No! If this was Celestia, he wanted to obey the Dazzling every command and help the enslave earth. He just had to remember that, and it wouldn’t matter that the dream girl of girls of dreams was wrapping her hand around her flaccid length, and squeezing! Yeah, not likely.

Her hand still felt ice cold, but she was trying her damndest to warm it up with the friction of stroking him off like a fast, stroky thing. He squirmed against her embrace, and tugged on his cuffs (again, curious), but although her grip had loosened somewhat, between had hand, the cuffs, her tongue and the spell, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Her eyes still shut in bliss, she pushed her face in even harder, and pulled her left arm out from behind him. He didn’t have time to squirm further though (“okay, seriously, did I just forget how before?”), because she then used it to shove him fully against the wall, and finally broke off the kiss to look him in the eye.

Martin felt blood rushing to his loins, but he met her returned terrifying and insane gaze anyways. Up close, her pupils looked like needles ready to shoot out and pierce him, and her teeth became a solid white mass that didn’t part even when she spoke.

“Mr Saylin, I’ve heard every sex ed and extra credit joke four times,” she hissed as she continued to piston him as he became denser and denser.

“Wait,” he protested weakly, both out of fear and from how hard her forearm was pressed against his chest. But realizing he could indeed protest, he turned his eyes to the side and began pondering how he felt about his order to fuck her in the first place. Terrible, obviously. But something else felt wrong or right depending on how you looked at it. But it was kind of hard to evaluate one’s entire spectrum of emotions when Celestia’s attack became a slower milk in response to his hardening member.

“I’m just going to fuck you now okay?” she finish, and pulled her hands and body off him to kneel down in next to his crotch. His upper body finally free, he slumped against the wall slightly and tried to catch his breath. But she didn’t waste any time opening, not fumbling with, his fly.

When she pulled the zipper down, Martin felt like he was in group therapy for a millisecond, because somebody finally noticed that he hadn’t worn underwear since his capture (except boxers in his apartment, which was all his was allowed to wear there). His cock was red and chafed from fumbling around unprotected inside jeans, but it was either that, or wear sweats and have his frequent erections put on full display. Celestia, however, didn’t notice or didn’t care, because she grabbed his cock with her hand and buried it in her mouth without the slightest hesitation.

Martin’s eyes rolled back at the feeling of her, okay, they were pretty warm, lips on around his member, and the vacuum that came soon after. He’d been blown before obviously; at this rate, Celestia would be the last person to ever try a new position on him. But Celestia, or at least the 60-70% of her that the spell hadn’t changed, wasted no time in demonstrating her remarkable skill and technique. Her hand squeezed his base, her lips bobbed up and down, and her tongue resumed dancing, but this time around his tip.

He groaned and bucked into the wall once, but her lips and hand remained firmly in place. As always, his crotch was a distracting hotspot of pleasure on his body that was telling his brain to shut down and let instinct take over. He looked down and saw only a shifting rainbow mass. That helped a little with his attempts at dehumanizing her in the good way, but without the constant threat of being crushed like a walnut, he finally figured it out.

For the first time since Friday, he felt like he could squirm. He remembered his obligations, but he was about as compelled to obey them as a “Keep Off The Grass Sign”: following the rules was important, but he felt like he had leeway. And if their was ever a time for leeway, it was now.

Summoning the same disobedient courage that had told countless social workers to get stuffed, Martin… twisted and pulled in his cuffs, and squirmed around a bit. Obviously, neither Celestia nor his cock cared, and he could already feel the foundations of the beginnings of an orgasm.

He had a million ideas; kick her off, yell, run, all three, try and tear off the necklace, but it all still felt wrong. Nothing was his truly own except the few cubic centimetres inside his skull (again, that the spell wasn’t still present in), and the horizontal axis of his hands (provided the cuffs were still on). Celestia sucked and squeezed salivated, and it felt absolutely amazing. His newfound breathing room wasn’t stopping the natural process from being forced on him for the umpteenth time, but he knew if he came he’d be dooming both himself, and Celestia, so he wasn’t about to waste even chances smaller than Celestia’s pupils.

He tilted his head back and squinched his eyes shut and put up his best resistance to the spreading fire of pleasure and lust in his loins. First, he tugged and tugged on his cuffs, hoping against hope that not only would he escape them, but if he did, his arms would remain controllable. But even the tiny distraction the of pain pulling on normal cuffs might have brought him was negated by the fluff, so he concentrated on his mind.

“Me getting dismembered! the taste of Eggplant casserole! Celestia as a horse!” he begged himself to think again. He knew it wouldn’t work, but he also knew Half Life 3 was never going to come out. “Celestia with the mumps! Celestia swallowing my cum! Wait, no! No! No! Why is that picture staying!?”

Probably because it was the most realistic. The voluptuous principal stopped using her tongue, but slid her lips faster and faster along his now glistening prick, and Martin swore he could feel his sperm imprisoned in his base, slowly its way forward. He clenched his eyes so tight they hurt more than his wrists, and thought about what the picture of this goddess of wisdom and integrity cheeks bulging with his seed would entail.

“Jesus fucking christ man! You’ll kill her! She’ll become just like the Dazzlings, and the good woman who was Principal Celestia will be destroyed. Her life literally depends on you keeping your cock in check, and you’re going to cum!” his inside voice switched to the third person for shaming him again, but as always, it was no use. He began a light pant, and she pulled him closer and closer until that little switch in his brain and cock was flipped, and he opened his eyes only to roll them back as he came.

Celestia was highly experienced, and wasted no time going from sucking to swallowing. Martin arched his back in against the wall in a familiar, but amplified feeling of pleasure and pain, pushing involuntarily pushing his cock further in and he came rope after rope with force to cut steel, but Celestia swallowed and swallowed just as quickly. Even though it felt like it would take a year for his reserves to fill again after this, Martin never felt a single sperm cell on his cock, as it all disappeared down her throat just as quickly as it came out, like the two of them were two parts of a fully operational machine. No matter how many times it flowed, the stream of cum always felt like it’d last forever, but after at least two millennia, it started to wind down until Celestia removed her mouth to let Martin slump down against the wall in defeat.

Martin panted like an asthmatic dog who’d just been on a marathon in space as the feelings besides unwanted pleasure slowly returned to him.

“Fuck me, I’m a monster,” he thoughted defeatedly as he realized what had just happened. He looked up to see if Celestia was dead yet, and wasn’t disappointed when he saw her gulp for the last time, then look down at him with an only slightly less intense face of rape.

“That was amaaaazing, Mr Saylin,” she complimented.

“Celestia?” he asked weakly, trying to see if there was any kernel of Canterlot’s favorite woman left in her.

“Celestia was a goody two shoes little slut who let perfectly good fucktoys like you walk by her every day because she was satisfied with her equally slutty little sister. From now on, call me Molestia!”

“Oh, god. I’m a murderer,” Martin resigned as he groaned out loud, having seen enough movies to know bad puns were a staple of the dead. “Okay, a metaphorical murderer, but that’s definitely a step up from Fluttershy’s definition. Now she’s supposed to be addicted to me, and I have to give her the ring soon.”

And as my name implies, Mr Saylin ” Celestia grabbed him by the chin, and turned his limp head to face her, even though at this point he was more concerned with how cold his spit polished cock was getting. “We’re not remotely finished.”

Martin posiotioned Celestia’s clitories with his lips, and began sucking on the tiny bud, but Celestia, preoccupied by the red gem now on her ring finger, barely flinched.

“One of you? How so?” She asked across the desk as she made her hand a fist to further examine the ring.

“Well, honestly, we don’t know. We’ve never done this before,” Adagio admitted.

Her sex crazed fervor had died down after three straight hours, and she’d returned to a character that was at least comfortable being called Celestia in conversation. School had ended an hour before, but the Dazzlings had been patient enough to wait afterwards for Martin to call them with the good news. Now, they oriented their newest recruit, as Martin idly lapped at her cunt under the desk.

“Well you should never be afraid to be ambitious girls, and I think your plan is terrific” Celestia encouraged, her wisdom not dead like her conscience. “But I’m sorry, I just don’t feel all that different.”

She perked up for a split second as Martin flicked his tongue across her clit, but instantly recovered. Her juices were still picking up though, and for the first time in awhile, Martin was conflicted about his obligations. The fact that she’d ordered him to get under the desk and eat her out seemed to indicate she wanted more from him, but as the four orgasms he’d already given her showed, even her legendary composure couldn't stand up to such pleasure, and conversation would be difficult.

“Well do you like having sex with Cutie Pie?” Sonata asked.

“Yes,” Celestia replied without even looking down.

“And do you care what you have to do to get it?” Aria asked, catching on to Sonata’s uncharacteristic play.

“Well, no,” Celestia could see were this was going.

“And do you mind helping us conquer earth and Equestria?” Adagio finished.

“I’d like to help, and the three of you certainly seem like the types to be in charge,” she admitted.

“Well then, we’ve got nothing to worry about! And as our first female sl-recruit, why don’t you pick who Cutie Pie gets for us next,” Adagio concluded cheerfully.

Celestia gave a small smile when she heard Adagio almost call her a slave. Martin had explained why she felt the way she did about him when he gave her the ring, but unlike his control, the spell had simply given her an emotion, not an order, and the ring had changed her at the most basic level, so she never felt out of control, even if she knew she technically was.

“Well, I’m sure Luna would enjoy this,” she deliberately said loudly so that Martin could hear. “And we’ve got all sorts of toys at home.”

Martin heard her all right, and even though his eyes were closed, he could see the smile forming on the Dazzling’s faces. The absolute terror of killing yet another glorious woman today, and playing, or being played with, whatever toys Celestia wasn’t comfortable keeping in her desk hit him again, but the thought of the handcuffs that still bound his wrists compelled him to pull his mouth out briefly to ask his mistresses a question.

“Ey *spit* mitheresseth,” he cleared his mouth of Celestia’s honey. “Wheth *spit* I was having sex with elestia-”

“Speaking of which, who told you to stop!” Celestia said as her cunt grew cold again. Martin quickly returned to lapping at it, but tried his best to convey his message at the same time.

“Whelth, I *lick* elth a ittle *kiss* moffree.”

“If you want, we could get a machine for the house,” Sonata said. Adagio, being fluent in gagspeak though, understood him perfectly and replied.

“Yeah, we thought that might happen,” Adagio said, and Celestia eyes shot up to her with a worried look. “The more energy the necklace is using invoking lust, the less if focused on keeping you in line. But worry, the most you’ll be able to do is squirm around a little, maybe politely ask us to stop- when you’re already tied up and have girls working you. You’re not going anywhere.”

Reassured, Celestia looked down at Martin again, who hadn’t stopped even as the most hope he’d felt in a week was thrown out the window. To further prove her dominance, she placed her hand on his head and pushed him in further just like Adagio always did, and weakened her composure to mock him with her spasms and moans.

There were quite a few of those to, because in five days Martin had already picked up several tricks, and in a minute he was drowning in her juices unable to move his head.

Finished, but far from done, she nonchalantly let go of his head to stand up. The Dazzlings got a view of her of her hairless sopping snatch, and Martin got a dripping stream of honey which he quickly adjusted himself to catch with his tongue and swallow, just like he’d been ordered.

“Alright my little children, let’s go take over the world!”

Rampant Consumerism

Chapter 3: Rampant Consumerism

Only Celestia and Luna were ~~enchanted~~ ~~brainwashed~~ ~~possessed~~ controlled into lusting eternally for Martin as to ensure a steady supply of emotion from him, but all five of his mistresses were nonetheless addicted to him, and it made him wonder why cocaine never starred in PSA’s telling the little chemical components to say no to humans. But there was a reason Martin was only having two of his… not holes, whatever you call them for boys, repeatedly violated.

If they all had their way, they’d all… have their way. With him all day everyday. But after Luna put on her ring the same evening as Celestia, the two adults noticed the Dazzlings bickering over who to enthrall next or what to buy Martin, and forced them to all take three deep breaths, sit in a circle, and pool group opinions to work out a step by step plan. “Resource Management”, “Analysis”,“Planning” and “Execution” were the four components of RAPE, the democratically (Martin figured this was how colonial women and slaves felt) decided plan that would lead them to victory over first Canterlot, then Earth, then Equinstia, or whatever the hell Twilight’s world was called. Luna and Adagio had him Saturday night and Sunday because the leader and the newest recruit (who now decided the next target) were best suited to handle the send off.

And without constant arguing to distract them at home, and everyday until Sunday as designated “reward time”, Martin had more than proven his endurance and value as a sex slave by the time Sunday rolled around.

It was now Sunday morning, and as was true much of the time, his only articles of clothing were his enchanted necklace, and four pairs of the fluffy pink-sleeved handcuffs binding his limbs to his bedposts, while Adagio bounced up and down his raw cock, and Luna ground her crotch across his caked-with-honey face as he tried to used his equally sore tongue.

Since Adagio was used to doing all the work herself, he focused entirely on Luna, and gave her another vertical lick, brushing against her clit and causing her to gasp and spasm on top of his face again. Adagio pumped her knees up and down on his raw cock faster and faster, and Luna’s crotch was getting drownier and drownier, which meant this whole nightmare was almost over.

Shame and fear hadn’t worked in keeping him sane, Martin was now trying optimism. To a gambler, the boy who’d been asked to introduce the new girls was not a very good bet, but Martin had remembered what it had felt like to see Sunset transform, and then feel himself die when, as he he was later told, he was turned into a zombie by her magic. Pretty soon the magical six would find out, free him and the principals, and brutally disembowel the Dazzlings. He just had to wait it out.

What was strange was that he’d concocted his master plan partially in the hopes of getting on his mistress’s negative-emotion eating nerves, but they didn’t seem to notice. Weird. But anyways, he just had to make them cum, then he’d go see one of the magical six, and they would save him.

But that first part proved difficult, because Luna was grinding so fast now, he could barely get his tongue in. She’d slide up on his face, giving him just a split second to breath through his nose while trying not to choke on her juices, then she’d slide back down and smother him again.

His eyes were, of course squeezed tight to protect them from the stinging solution of urine and mucus (the term “honey”, he’d learned, was very misleading), but lose any sense for long enough, and you're other’s start to compensate. He could tell that Adagio was in a white-eyed daze from pumping in and out of the very realistic dildo beneath her. She was also probably fondling her own breasts, because she may have liked to be in control, but a warm, thick meat is the ultimate distraction.

Eventually Luna seemed to realize that grinding his face was actually counter productive, and stopped to position herself directly on his face again. He knew it would be awhile before he could cum again, but Adagio was giving off her signature “close” moans, so this was his chance.

He pushed his tongue into Luna and wiggled it around. And upon finding her cunny, he somewhat painfully pushed his face further in so he could wrap his lips around it. Luna tensed up, knowing what was next, and sure enough, after giving it a quick flick of the tongue, it was like a vacuum had been attached to her clitoris, sucking the pleasure right through her.

Now both of them were pumping vertically with their knees and giving the moans Martin never got to. He was in such a daze he wasn’t sure if he could still breathe any more, but it didn’t matter because they were both about to mark him as their territory with their juices. Again.
3, 2, 1,

“Uuugh!”

“Euuugh!”

They both came, and because his penis only breathed metaphorically, he kept focusing on the cavalcade flowing from Luna’s snatch. Just like he’d “practiced”, he pursed his lips and blew outwards, then shut his mouth as tight as his eyes and let it gush down. Luna didn’t sit up to let it fall down like the others, so the warm solution simply pooled in the cavities of his face, and slowly oozes out from under her and down the sides of his face. It was no coincidence the term “mask of honey” had made its way into one of Martin's english class poems since he’s met the Dazzlings.

Adagio to, was coating his dick with juices that seeped out of her warms fold and onto his hairless crotch (the streams that flew onto his scrotum were always his least favorite part). He knew he was in for a long shower afterwards.

It took forever, but they both came down at roughly the same time, and finally exhausted, they sat all their weight on him, panting lightly. Luna leaned forwards a bit, giving Martin enough room to spit out her fluids and gasp though his mouth. He hadn’t cum, so waiting silently for one of them to finally get up was actually as boring as his life life got now. He preoccupied himself with thoughts of the day.

“Okay, two options: One, they’re not as done as they seem, in which case, ~~fuck~~ I might actually get to cum again. Or two, they are, I’m gonna have to go ~~kill~~ see my next target.”

Luna gave a final sigh and lifted her right leg to slide off the bed, leaving Martin with a rapidly cooling and drying honey mask, which wasn’t a pleasant feeling. He turned his head to the side and tried his best to wipe the juices off on his bicep and the sheets, and felt the weight on his crotch lifted and the warm sleeving around his aching cock slide away. He made no attempt to get those juices off in the hopes that when they cooled, they’d numb his raw steak.

“I believe you’ve gained another 50 XP, ” he heard Luna compliment as she wiped her crotch with a towel. “Perhaps you will level up today.”

“Still think he’s up for taking on Rarity?” Adagio asked from the other side of the bed. Martin would have to agree that he was as ready physically as he was psychologically. His tongue felt like he drank too-hot coffee, and his dick like it’d been abused all last night, morning, and night in his dreams, which it had. At first he’d welcomed sleep, but now the only way to distinguish between dream and reality was to wait and see if any of the Dazzlings turned into dinosaurs while raping him.

Still though, he forced himself to give a mental smile (one does this by recognizing the emotion, and not caring if it goes through) at how they thought Rarity, the girl who’d defeated other dimensional demon girls with her friendship, wouldn’t notice anything amiss.

“I have every confidence he is,” Luna replied with a formal but cheery tone that never meant good things for him. “He just needs a little *milk sloshing* nourishment.”

Martin’s will to smile faded, reminded of how he ate now. Cautiously, as to not get honey in it, he opened his left eye and sure enough saw Luna holding up her oversized bare breasts.

“And are you sure you’re ready for this? I know Celestia can do it but hers were already-” Adagio stopped when Luna gave her an angry glare. Martin wasn’t sure why Adagio remotely cared what her puppet who only superficially had more autonomy than him felt, but he was literally about to be breastfed by his vice principal whose tits had grown three sizes that day, and he’d enjoy it. He only asked questions about his own motivations now.

Intent on proving Adagio wrong, Luna bent down and held her right tit to Martin’s face. Martin was starving, and he knew what to expect, so he put his did his best to get a grip around the hard pink bud with his lips, and sucked.

It’d been little over a week, and though he’d hated to admit it at first, lunch during the week was already his least favorite meal. After the magically enhanced ambrosia that started collecting in their mammaries until they bloated like a toad, normal food felt and tasted like shit weighing him down in the stomach. It was the taste of pure sugar and the texture of high fat milk. And judging from how it killed his exhaustion and hunger for hours, had the nutrient value of a rare steak. When Sonata had first fed him, he came so fast he never felt himself get hard. It was still a surreal and odd-feeling experience, like drinking through a wall, but it didn’t really arouse him anymore. It was the part of his new life that convinced him to acknowledge the good with the bad, and it was a shame that Sonata’s idea of taking turns getting their milk drained to be turned into milkshakes and ice cream for Martin would never come to fruition, because ~~contrived and made up odds~~ were that rescue was mere hours away.

“So, Cutie Pie,” Luna spoke as she tried to control herself in the face of being drank from. They’d agreed with Sonata’s idea because feeding time was almost as much fun for them as it was for him, but Luna’s tongue was the only one his new name felt foreign on. “After breakfast, you’re going to take a shower, get dressed, and go to Carousel Boutique to get yourself some more embarrassing clothes and enthrall Rarity, correct?”

Still audibly sucking, Martin nodded. Luna realized what she’d just said, and the thought of him returning in a banana suit gave her a brief smile.

“Rescuerescuerescuerescue” Martin sang in his head

*Ding dang dong*

Like whenever he saw his mistresses, Martin only saw blue, purple, pink and yellow at first. Since the Fall Formal, he, along with probably the rest of CHS, had the magical six only a few steps below the Power Humans in terms of how real seeing them in person felt. And Martin could add “targets” to “classmates” and “heroes”; the list of things they’d been in the past few months months.

But since the pink and yellow jumped and squeaked at the sound of the… doorbell? bell of the door? bell, he knew exactly who he was dealing with. Fluttershy and Rarity turned their equally iconic and stunning teenage faces away from the blue dress on the stage they’d been working on, and when they recognized him Fluttershy became even more scared, but Rarity was only mildly surprised at the entrance of Canterlot’s hottest gossip topic.

“Recuernotvictimrescuernotvictimrescuenotvictims,” Martin changed his tune of optimism, also trying to avoid looking at their breasts or crotches out of thought for the future.

Fluttershy’s face softened and she lowered her arms as Rarity approached the dangerous monster that they could make feel horrible with the slightest slip of the tongue. Again, Martin lamented that she wasn’t scared of him for the right reasons… Unless she was, and they were just playing along!

“Martin, darling, what brings you here?” Rarity said with her hands on her hips as the two of them met in the center of the room. She took the opportunity to quickly eye up the mystery boy, as if she could tell what was up with him just by looking at him.

“I’m looking for some clothes,” Martin gave the Captain Obvious answer. He didn’t have to be able to indicate something was wrong, he just had to wait.

“Well you could certainly use some,” she thought out loud. Martin was taken aback by her terse response, he got plenty of insults at home, but Rarity continued. “I’m sorry darling, but a mostly beige logo on black?” she questioned his choice of t-shirt. “I certainly hope you’re not taking those girls out in this.”

With her second comment, Fluttershy gave a silent gasp and covered her mouth at Rarity’s brashness. Twilight had said Applejack was honesty, and even she’d never tell, not ask, someone who they were dating when it’d been the school’s hot topic for a week now.

“Um, maybe I should be going now,” Fluttershy pointed towards the back door. Martin’s heart skipped a beat at the possibility of being left alone with his target. He looked across the room wanting to tell her to stay, but surprisingly, Rarity did it for him.

“Fluttershy, wait! I’m sorry, darling, we can still finish with your dress just as soon as we’re done here!” Rarity said in a remorseful haste as turned around and reached out for Fluttershy as she edged her way towards the doorway. She was instinctively apologizing to the Fluttershy and not the boy she’d directly insulted, but Martin understood from history class that if you hurt anyone, you hurt Fluttershy twice that amount when she found out anyone had suffered.

“Oh, that’s okay. You have a customer now and we can finish tomorrow. Goodbye!” Fluttershy said with a “get me out of here” look, and flew out the back door.

Despair demanded a place in Martin’s heart as he saw the door close behind her, but in accordance to his self-mandated positivity, he forced himself to push it aside and come up with another reason for her departure:

“She already knows something is wrong. With any luck, she’s calling the others right now.”

His wishful thinking quota satisfied, he looked down at Rarity, who watched her delightful confidante flee with open-mouthed surprise and sadness. But after the door slammed shut behind Fluttershy, the determined fashionista sighed lightly, and turned back to Martin.

“So Mr Saylin. Again, I’m dreadfully sorry if I’ve-,” she paused and looked down briefly. “This is hardly what I hoped to happen when you finally entered my boutique, but honestly, having a partner, or three, none of my business, does not excuse you from having standards of appearance.”

Martin wasn’t sure what to make of her comment. Of course he wanted to tell Rarity that they were only his girlfriends according to Sonata, and according to Sonata the world was flat. But he also wanted to tell her that they were alone in a room now when girls in China were the only one’s remotely safe from the lust spell. It also finally occurred to him to ask himself if it really mattered to RAPE if people believed he was having nightly, but consensual foursomes with the Dazzlings. Should he should have told people that before? They’d all been too polite to ask. And now with Celestia and Luna? They’d avoided being seen together in public, but people were bound to get suspicious sooner or later, and Celestia had already said (while Martin ate her out of course) that she’d been asked about her new ring. What would happen when half of CHS was wearing the rings? Poking holes in the Dazzlings plan was his new counting sheep since it was the only reason he could sleep at night (aside from usually having gone at least seven rounds straight), but he was still under orders to help them, and Rarity needed a response.

“We-We’re more like, uh, friends with benefits?” Martin finally answered with an awkward smile, hoping he got the meaning of the term right. Rarity gave a real smile, and turned around to walk back towards the mannequin.

“Again darling, none of my business. But the fact that you’re here means one of you, or three of you, or I suppose- ONE PARTY is not fully satisfied with how you dress. And I can tell you…” she stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. “-Nobody satisfies clothing better than me.”

She turned back around and spread her arms demonstratively, sitting down on the stage.

“Welcome to Carousel Boutique, where every garment is chic, unique, and magnifique! Tell me, young man, what is it you se- are looking for?”

“Well,” Martin ignored her attempts not to sound like Zecora, felt embarrassed, knowing he’d been told to “surprise” his mistresses, but hadn’t actually had any ideas. Sure he was there to mind control Rarity into a conscienceless demon, but he didn’t want to frustrate her by not having an order ready.

“I was thinking… ” He was thinking that the necklace already suffocated him enough, and anything he put on under their orders, no matter how skimpy, would feel like a clingy, restraining straight jacket (another object with a misleading name). As per his orders, he he felt obligated to find something arousing, but he knew next to nothing about clothes, much less which ones were considered sexy by women. He figured visible skin was a fairly universal turn on, and they certainly liked him in his boxers, but however crazy the CHS students dressed, he couldn't exactly go to school in underwear or underwear like clothes. Perhaps a leather jacket? Or just a tight t-shirt? But Rarity couldn’t just throw those together like a dress, could she? The Dazzlings would need to be more specific with their instructions in the future.

“Never mind,” she cut him off with a wave of her hand. “I think I know just what you’ll need.”

“You do!?” Martin said surprised and relieved. He quickly realized that what little embarrassment he’d be spared by Rarity choosing something “surprising’ for him was not much cause for relief, but he’d figured whatever Rarity cooked up all feel equally painful to wear anyways, and now he didn’t have to describe anything. The responsibility of an outfit that the Dazzlings would like, which he had the utmost confidence Rarity could make simply by examining their clothes, was all on her now, especially if his mistresses didn’t like it. He also told himself that the rest of the magical six were probably on their way, so it didn’t really matter.

Plus, he’d spent a minute in a room with Celestia before she gave in, but now, he noticed, he didn’t feel even the slightest bit more independent, which meant most of the necklace’s magic was still focused on him. When Luna asked if the five might be immune to the necklace the same way Sunset couldn’t brainwash or kill them with magic, Adagio dismissed her by saying something about them needing Twilight (which reminded him ~~a whole nother world was counting on them~~ she’d be waiting on the other side if miraculously they took Sunset over and found out how the mirror worked), but Rarity hadn’t even licked her lips yet.

“Indeed! Run along upstairs to my sewing room, and I’ll call you down when it’s ready,” she gestured towards the stairs to her right.

Since he’d come to associate the idea of “anywhere but here”, especially in regards to stairs, with his mistresses and their games with him, his first instinct was to shudder as he was reminded of every time he had to go home or to the library. But when he looked at the purple colored fancy flight, he forced himself to think what felt an awful lot like rationally.

Obviously, he knew from experience going anywhere someone who had even the slightest possibility of wanting to rape him told him to go was ill-advised, but he checked his drive to have sex with Rarity and get new clothes again like a cellphone battery, and it seemed well above “meh, I’ll do it tomorrow” levels. Rarity’s display of affection towards Fluttershy unbecoming of an animal in heat also served as pretty compelling evidence Rarity didn’t want them to be left alone either.

He looked back at Rarity, who sat there smiling that happy, confident smile that told anyone who let her handle needles in clothes that they were wearing that they were in good hands. Of course, if there was any one of the magical six who could hide their lust and fake sincerity and remorse, it’d be her, because ripping off a boy’s clothes and raping him in broad daylight was most unladylike, but she still couldn’t hide from the magic. If she was sending him upstairs, instead of the more isolated downstairs to hit him in the back of the head and then go to town on him, he figured he’d at least feel free enough to ask politely decline.

“Okay, thanks” he replied, and walked towards the stairs. He didn’t want to want to, but he wasn’t afraid afraid.

“I’ll be but a moment, darling. I’ll holler when it’s ready.”

As turned the corner and placed his hand on the purple bannister, he briefly wondered if Rarity didn’t have sex with him, he’d be forced to rape her. The image of him pinning her down, and tearing off her blue shirt and panties simply because he felt obligated to sprung to mind, and the necklace couldn’t stop him from pausing for a second on the first step. If it ever came to that- No! He’d been directly ordered to have sex with her a few times (they’d talked about it all weekend, and used several different phrases), but didn’t cannibalize Adagio when he was told to eat her out (even if he wished he did), and knew they only meant for the purposes of enthralling her. If she really could resist the magic, she wouldn't get addicted to him even if he did rape her. He’d just have to return to his mistresses having triumphantly failed.

He began ascending the stairs and saw an open purple door leading into a brightly lit family hallway, he was reassured he at least had a little time.

“Rarity seems like she can resist, and her friends are on their way. Things may finally be looking up!” he thought as he entered the hallway and started looking around for the sewing room.

“What a sexy, young fool,” Rarity thought.

Martin’s faith was somewhat wavered when he saw a four bannister bedroom in Rarity’s sewing room (though if his fears were confirmed, he’d have to compliment her on her word choice to make him feel better).

He wasn’t sure if the five minutes he waited in the bright room went fast or slow. Numerically it was nothing compared to the hours outside social worker’s offices, and he’d learned of appreciate every moment he had his cock in his pants, but anticipation can do wonders to the mind. He’d worried if the Dazzlings didn’t like the tame ensemble Rarity was working on, he’d be forced to show her images of male strippers and say he wanted to look like them. Also, he’d come to regret his ~~decision to~~ optimism in going up there, because potential rapists are a strange thing: you never want to see them, but you never want to let them out of your sight either.

Martin resolved himself to sitting on her bed and staring at the open door intently while he waited. Whatever Rarity brought with her, he’d at least see it coming. But even though he heard her low heeled boot on the stairs and in the hallway, when he first saw what filled the doorway his first thought was that he’d gone through a mirror into an alternate dimension without realizing it.

Rarity, or, Ytirar, as he thought she might be called there, was dressed like a Dazzling!
Admittedly, that was a vague description, but he knew what she was going for the moment he saw it, and in one of the blessed moments in which losing his cool would not be to the detriment of RAPE, he leaned back on the bed in shock.

Her pride and joy, her hair, retained its dark purple glisten as it was tied up in massive pigtails with spiked bands. A ruby heptagon hung around her neck by a leather choker in clear imitation of his mistresses, and was the only thing covering her pale skin down her bare shoulders.

Over her torso, running down her arms, and doing little to hide her sizable unbraced breasts was a black, but glittering with silver sequins, shoulderless long sleeve shirt of thin fabric. And below that purple jeans matching her hair, and a pair of dark leather boots.

Martin looked up and down the fare-skinned coed’s most surprising (by a small margin) piece to date, but he didn’t notice her expression until she spoke.

“Do you like me now, Martin?

“Huh?” he looked back at into her blue-shaded, angrily dimmed eyes. Her fair but chiseled and beautiful face now framed by her unobstructed shoulders and upper breasts and “aggressively” put up hair.

“I said, darling,” she walked over to the bed and stood in front of his reclined figure, hands akimbo and face calmly angry. “Do you like me now?”

Her expectant glare down at him reminded Martin of Celestia during her capture, and he realized the reality of the situation. She wasn’t immune. She’d just taken less magic to convince, which is something he’d never tell her to her face, but was all too true.

“Rarity-” Martin tried to respond, even though at this point he was compelled to want it to, so any one possible response on his part was as good as the next.

“Because you parade around with those three immature harlots, but can’t be bothered to give any proper lady a call. I thought maybe a similar, but greatly improved, if I do say so myself, sense of dress might make you come around.”

Rarity’s motivations were hard to describe, but clear: she was dressed the way she was in a mocking way of getting attention. She didn’t need him to give her attention to satisfy her longings, as he knew she was about to prove (there was only one way these interactions went. The fact that they didn’t know his enchantment would keep him from tattling until afterwards was evidence of the necklace’s effectiveness). But she was acting like she did to make fun of what she might do if she did need it. One might call this a form of societal satire, but Martin called it scary, especially since he still didn’t feel the least bit free. And that meant he still had orders.

Martin sat up slowly, expecting her next sexually charged line to come soon. But she continued to glare down at him silently for several seconds, and he realized she apparently wanted a response.

Martin had remained mostly silent with Celestia and Luna because what was he supposed to say in situations like this? “Come around? Yeah Rarity, I see it now? You’re totally the best *stands up and puts his hands on her hips* I see that now. Let’s totally have sex.”

“Come around? Yeah Rarity, I see it now? You’re totally the best I see that now. Let’s have sex,” he said as he stood up and put his hands on her hips. As expected, Rarity’s normally dimmed eyes went wide at his sudden and forced 180. She dropped her hands to her sides and looked up at the strange boy, and briefly doubted her decision to “court” him. Had Pinkie Pie put him up to something? Did he want something from her and was just playing along?

But standing inches away from his red stone that glowed invisibly, logic was not much of a factor. She’d cast him a glance or two in the hallways whenever she was in the fantasising mood, every girl and quite a few boys did, but the same was true for Macintosh and Soarin. She’d never really realized how she felt until after she saw him wearing that necklace. Now, every physics class or assembly she’d see him, and feel desire and longing, followed by a glance at the red ruby that stood as a taunting symbol of his unavailability. At first, every time he stepped out of her sight, she would berate herself for letting her lusts get the better of her and being jealous of the choices of a boy who she barely knew. But every time she saw him, her images of him in a tuxedo, giving her a night on the town before eating her out while she sipped champagne, became more and more vivid. How was it remotely fair that she’d saved the world and got nothing, whereas three girls had dressed atrociously and gotten him? It was asking this entitled and frankly dangerous question that she’d worked up the courage to masturbate to his image on Wednesday, and she’d started throwing together her “maybe someday” outfit on Thursday (though she’d had to assemble one for him to, just to have an excuse).

When he’d entered her boutique, she’d somehow felt hot before she even turned around. She couldn’t admit her thoughts to her friends of course; either they wouldn’t understand her search for a gentleman, of they would and be jealous. She had a responsibility to Fluttershy, and was rather enjoying their project, but when she departed, and Rarity spent just a minute time seeing her teenage hunk in his true form, her anger and lust building, until she decided “maybe someday” meant “in five minutes, definitely”.

And he was now saying he wanted to have sex with her. It’d be rather foolish of her to look this fine stallion in the mouth.

“Alright then Mr Saylin,” her smile returned, much to Martin’s internal chagrin, and she placed her finger on his forehead and pushed. Recognizing one of Adagio’s favourite moves, Martin let go, and allowed himself to be “pushed” back to sitting on the bed. “But, I’ve spend a considerable amount of time and resources just to make you realize the frankly obvious. I think,” she pulled her hands back to her hips. “That I deserve a little more than what your normally do with those arrogant whores.”

“I doubt I could do that if I tried,” Martin thought, maintaining his blank expression, but still weary of what was to happen next.

Rarity turned and took a step over the the nightstand, and opened the drawer to remove four leather belts.

“Strip naked, lie down, strap yourself in, and I’ll consider letting you cum today,” she ordered as she tossed them to him.

“Seriously? Twice in a row?” was what Martin thought in annoyance, but you’d never have known it from his gulp.

On top, Rarity kneeled on the bed with a smile. Beneath her, and feeling her cold hand stroking his bare inner thigh was Martin Saylin, and to say he was in a compromising position was an insult to compromises.

He’d known when Rarity took out the leather belts and ordered him to strip, it would be minutes before he was on the bed, butt naked, and spread eagled. Rarity’s bed was significantly more comfortable than his back at the apartment, and the leather tied, while tighter around his wrists and ankles, felt a little more organic and natural, but otherwise it was a very familiar position.

Or it would have been, if after Rarity was done securing his hands for him (sorta killed the mood, but one can’t exactly bind oneself with belts), she didn’t go into the other night stand and take out a blindfold and a ballgag. And the latter didn’t even make it into his mouth, because he’d decided several bundles of her panties and a strip of duct tape was more appropriate.

He couldn’t see, he couldn’t talk, he could only breathe through his nose and taste fabric, and he absolutely, positively, could not resist. And Rarity loved him for it. She’d been running her hands up and down his bare, beefy thighs, just admiring her “prize”, for almost three minutes now. She understood how that term objectified him, but seeing his muscular body all trussed up underneath her, she understood why the boys liked objectification so much.

The fact that to her knowledge he was a willing participant was of supreme disinterest to her now. She’d all but forgotten his awkward and forced compliance; now he was bound and gagged, stripped of all outward signs of his autonomy (besides his erection), and an object for her to do whatever she want-

Martin felt the five cold digits stop midway up his thigh, and for once his optimism was correct in that Rarity was reconsidering, but only how, not if, to proceed with her new boy toy. As much as she liked him the way he was (as in “tied up and waiting to be sat on”, not personality wise of course), keeping him tied to be her silent, motionless fucktoy forever was a flawed plan to say the least.

One of the great things about being a fashion designer is that vision is everything. Rarity could envision a clothing article, and the rest was just details. A similar thought process, with debatable fortune, had been applied minutes earlier as she debated whether or not to follow her desires with the boy who most physically resembled her vision of the perfect boyfriend upstairs none the wiser. She’d already completed step one of the manufacturing process; acquire the correct materials i.e. a docile stud tied up in her bedroom. It was now time to cut and sew them correctly to match her vision, though she would vehemently deny she in any way resembled Dr Frankenstein.

She looked his toned, hairless, sexy body up and down once again, and smiled.

“Mr Saylin, or, Martin, as I suppose I should come to call you,” she began matter-of-factly as she moved her hand from his thigh onto his cock. Without sight, or even the feeling/smell/taste to compensate, hearing Rarity’s voice felt strange, like the voice of a goddess in purgatory. When he realized where she was going though, the feeling of his new tiny sliver of illogical hope was dashed was as familiar as that of a hand on his length, or just about anywhere on his body with what his mistresses did in the losing fight of keeping sex with him fresh. It didn’t make him feel much better now that he knew he was just one orgasm away from killing Rarity. “You are a very attractive young man, but I hope you understand that I’m not the type of lady to settle for any fairly muscular bimbo, yes?”

“Yes, fairly muscular bimbo, right here!” was what Martin wanted to say, though the word “bimbo” felt strange in his mind in a way “slut”, or other terms commonly used for women did not. Still, seeing obeying her as the quickest way to sex, he nodded (though he curled his toes as he did).

“Good. Then you understand that if you truly want to be my gentleman, we can still have lots of fun together, but that unlike those three whore, I have non-carnal desires that you’ll have to cater to.”

The hypocrisy of her saying this while she started stroking him off, dressed like one of said whores, was not lost on Martin, but he nodded again.

“Firstly,” she continued to pump, and although her hand was cold like Celestia and Luna’s the first time, Martin felt the pleasure in him building. “you’ll never let another girl touch you, except when I say they can, and you won’t be afraid of their childish jealousy.”

Again, Martin was no debater, but he saw the hypocrisy in her words, and felt a twinge of anger, thinking that a lust spell shouldn’t do away with one’s logic. When Celestia wanted him, she’d fucking raped him without any pretense of righteousness or entitlement. And when he was brought home to Luna, they’d shared! Still though, once she was horny enough to slip the ring that was now on the floor in his pants pocket, Rarity would get a whole lot worse (though whether or not she’d retain her jealousy was in interesting question). Thinking back to Fluttershy, and how slow buses could be in town, Martin nodded.

Rarity hand was as smooth as her skin, and she stroked up and down with a slow patience the Dazzlings never had. It felt wonderful at first, but it soon became too slow, and Martin fought the urge to thrust into her hand at the pain of denial. Wait, fight?

“Secondly, as much as your T-shirts make a spectacle of your physique,” she already spoke like he had absolutely no free will of his own, though his nodding wasn’t helping her case. As she spoke, he felt her start to lean further down, bringing her fact to her hand/his cock. “From now on, you’ll only be picking the clothes I choose for you. In fact you’ll only be picking anything I choose for you. I’ve taken you under my wing, it’s my responsibility to educate you about upper class culture.”

Before Martin could nod or draw other parallels to slavery (or, historical slavery, he supposed), she suddenly gave his cock head a long, wide lick from above. Martin jolted underneath her and gave his binds a tight pull, when he first felt her wet tastebuds on his most sensitive area. She scraped her entire tongue along the sizable tip of his member, licking up all his pre-cum and leaving him spit polished.

“Correct?” Rarity asked as she resumed her handjob, but Martin didn’t nod. He sort of felt like he should, but like when Celestia or Luna went on him the first time, his mission fell in priority in his mind, and he felt power and feeling slowly returning to his numb body.

“I repeat: From now on, you’ll only use the things I pick for you!” Rarity reiterated as she sped up her strokes, frustrated and confused by Martin’s failure to acknowledge the order like he had all the others. Did he think she was going to make him cross dress? Not really her style. And even if it was, what right did he have to refuse her?

Well Martin knew that he wasn’t going anywhere, and that that was probably why he felt so free. And though he figured he could probably make out “Ifff huh hhazzzulingth! Urth eeeing hind hunthrolled!” through his gag, but he still had enough of the opposite of fight left in him to not be so direct. Instead, he figured since Rarity still seemed to have some amount of sanity and clairvoyance left in her, he’d do his best to show her he wasn’t willing in the slightest.

First, he tugged on his right restraint. Then he tugged on his left restraint a little harder. Then the formerly still boy became a tempest of movement in the span of a second. Twisting, tugging, bucking… in the non-sexual way, every which way. His cock bent unnaturally in Rarity’s hand as he desperately tried to dislodge it, but Rarity adapted to the new game quickly, and pressed her left arm against his chest, doing her best to pin her down like her principal before her.

“Now, now, Martin, it’s far too late for second thoughts now,” she said, her breath brushing against his abs. Truth was, his struggles felt a bit like a game to him to. The rules said he couldn’t cry out anything meaningful, and if she actually did start to back off he’d probably have to entice her again, but the opportunity to squirm and writhe and go “mmmmph” while he was being raped was not one he was willing to pass up. He had two weeks worth of struggles to vent, and Fluttershy was coming with reinforcements anyways (though that felt like part of the game to somehow), so he was more than willing to play it.

Rarity’s arm did a surprising amount to stop his from arching his pelvis up out of her reach, but his cock felt like a fish out of water (a real one, not like Twilight was) with how how it was starting to flop around, and she knew finishing the handjob was out of the question. She let go and pulled back out of Martin’s reach for a second, allowing to bring his hips a full six inches in the air.

For seven whole seconds he held the position of a bridge. The newly created space underneath him felt vulnerable now, and the position was killer on his head, but at least his cock was out of reach, and while up there, he felt it soften. For a moment it seemed like victory was at hand (again, illogical hope), but then he felt Rarity, who’d been watching him with a confidently sexual smile, put her hands on her hips and pushed him back down onto the bed.

Once again trapped underneath Rarity’s surprising strength, Martin continued to struggle. He shook his legs and pulled his arms (undoing the belts seemed either impossible, or too possible, he wasn’t sure), but his leverage was gone now.

“And thirdly, Martiny Wartiny,” she reminded herself never to use that name again, but continued with her third major rule. “We have lots, and lots, of sex, whenever I say!”

“Nnnnth!” Martin screamed through his gag.

Rarity let go of him, but Martin was too afraid of what was coming next to start writhing again, at least not before he felt her lean down again and envelop his cock with two soft, squishy, all enveloping flesh pillows.

Martin gasped, and nearly choked on the panties as Rarity continued to position both their organs most fuckably. Then without a word, she started sliding up and down on him. Martin twisted and pulled his upper half again, and bucked his hips once, but Rarity kept him well within her bosom no matter where he went, and his struggles actually did a lot of the work for her.

Soft flesh on hard flesh started to make the latter harder, and what Rarity said next between his struggles got him to calm down, but also sealed the deal on his erection.

“Martin, as adorable as this game of hard to get is, I have personas and costumes besides these ones. If you continue to misbehave, I’ll be forced to make use of whips, rings, and anal plugs.”

Martin’s pelvis stopped mid air, and he realized that even after a week of fucking like rabbits, the only pain he felt was emotional, or relegated to a denied orgasm, a sore body part, or a taunting slap on the ass. Despite many of Aria’s comments, his ass, which he knew would break like a rubber band the moment anything went up it, had been left alone. The now crazed but beautiful girl above him, who had a definite talent for fabrics, in a black leather corset, crotchless panties, and thigh high boots, brandishing a whip was something he wanted to avoid as long as possible, even if his cock said otherwise.

Martin slumped on the bed, and accepted the fact that it didn’t matter how mentally free he was now, Rarity already had him in the position most regular molesters would kill for.

“Marvelous darling. Now if you’re through resisting me giving you a tit-job… Ugh, I hate that term. - we can have some real fun.”

She resumed stroking him up and down again. Pre-cum oozed from his tip once again, replacing the dried saliva. It was warm, dry flesh on warm, dry flesh again, and being blind, it was like every stroke was pulling at him through the darkness, pulling him closer to-

No! Martin remembered why he had to resist. It wasn’t for him, it was for her, and for CHS and for Earth and Equinstia. Celestia and Luna were bad enough, but to do this to Rarity, his classmate and his hero? Then again, she was slower and more methodical than any of his former mistresses, and the bed was pretty comfortable-

No again! He was Martin Saylin, not Cutie Pie, the boy who loved being tied up and fucked. It was a cliched declaration, but it was at least 60% true right now, and that was what he had to think. It’d only been a few minutes, Fluttershy could still be on her way with help. And if she wasn’t, sooner or later Sweetie Belle would come home. This wasn’t a position he wanted anyone, much less an underage girl to see him in, but that was kind of the point. So long as he didn’t cum, both of them were safe. He wasn’t as altruistic as to struggle and risk breaking his never-been-whipped track record but he still steeled his mind, and started holding back for the third, but hardest time in his life.

Of course, it was at that exact moment that Rarity started using her tongue. And not just flicks across the tip. Everytime she descended and got a little surface area, she’d stick out her tongue and lick his underside on the way up, combining a blowjob and a tit-fuck. And she did it again, and again, until his top 1.75 inches was as wet as he could smell she was now even through his gag. Because of her positioning, the spit didn’t smear either, and his cock felt like it had two halfs: the thickening bottom half, pleasured by her breasts, and the thinner top half, an ocean of bodily fluids, that Rarity was sucking her own enslavement out of.

It’d been little over a minute since she’d started when Martin started having to tense his muscles to avoid turning her face even whiter with his load. He lamented that most of the time his mistresses were happy to have him cum whenever they wanted, so his time with them had only really given him the stamina to go multiple times in a row.

“Why thank you, darling,” Rarity noticed his efforts without needing to see his face properly. “But this is really for your benefit. Go on, cum anytime you like. When we’ve been together for a bit we can start actually training you.”

Without moving, Martin tried to deny the pleasure he felt once again. He didn’t try to think of disgusting things anymore, he just remembered pleasure was just a sensation like pain, only it told the body to keep doing what it was doing. There was nothing he could do about the command, but this time he could stop listening.

“It’s just a feeling. It feels good, but so do drugs. It’s just your cock. It’s not important,” he told himself silently. Just like with Celestia, he felt his cum, pushing, demanding an exit. He couldn’t blame them for wanting to fulfill their evolutionary purpose, but it hurt so badly!

Rarity pumped and licked and squeezed faster and faster, but never so much as to give the appearance of a lack of control. She’d done this before, albeit with more openly willing participants. To make him cum for her would give her the pride in having claimed CHS’s recently crowned most desired boy, and before that happened, she knew she would just feel emptiness that simple lust couldn’t explain.

Martin had held back longer than she ever thought possible of such a seemingly weak and inexperienced boy, but she could see his clenched eyes and gritted teeth through the blindfold and tape, and knew he was armed and ready to blow. Deciding to act as the detonator, she squeezed and licked him until she was positive one more stroke would set him off, then stopped.

Martin felt the pain of release and inevitably thrust into the air coming, but he remembered what Rarity had said about only letting him cum if he was good, and thought she was going to give him a final command. Still though, he savored the single second as one Rarity wasn’t addicted to him and soon to be dead, and possibly one Sweetie Belle or Fluttershy got a few steps closer to him in.

Then Rarity gave him a light peck on the cockhead, and he swore he shot gallons of sperm for hours on end.

While he was away “helping” Rarity (that was the euphemism they’d decided on), Aria and Adagio felt just the tiniest bit nervous for the first time since they’d found Martin. After he’d left, not in plan, but simply needing something to do with Martin gone, they’d rendezvoused at Celestia’s house to spend the day and realized it’d been easy to sic him on a weak willed mortal like Celestia (“No offense.” “None taken.”), and they’d watched when he took Luna, but the magical six still felt like uncharted enough territory to warrant caution. Plus, sending someone else to clothes shop for you (or your benefit) is never a good feeling. Needless to say the phone call from Rarity asking them if there was some way besides a hideous ring or necklace that she could wear her jewel was welcomed.

After telling Rarity they were working on it, Celestia calling back to ask her to put Martin on the line to make sure it wasn’t a trap, and a short walk, all five (or five out of six now) sirens and owners of Cutie Pie stood outside the door to Carousel Boutique, and even Sonata knew enough to be excited.

It was almost 9:00, and the streets were barren, so they felt comfortable having a laugh at Luna’s banana suit comment. A minute after knocking though, they were surprised when the door was answered, though in neither the way they expected, nor a good-for-the-world way.

“Principal Celestia! Vice Principal Luna!” a green-eyes Sweetie Belle squeaked, before looking behind them at the less familiar faces, which were sadly the ones she’d been told were most important. “And, uh, mistresses?”

Aria and Adagio frowned at their lack of recognition, but Sonata pushed past and put her hands on Sweetie’s shoulders.

“Hi there, little girl, what’s your name?” she smiled.

“Sweetie Belle, mistress. Rarity tol-”

“Oh my gosh! My name starts with an M to! I’m Sonata!”

Confused, the ~~enchanted~~ brainwashed possessed controlled little sister of the Dazzling's newest lieutenant continued.

“Rarity told me that she’s evil now, and that I’ll be mind controlled until I’m old enough.”

“And when you are old enough, you can get your very own ring,” Sonata gestured towards Celestia and Luna’s hands. “And rule the world with us!”

“Really?!”

“Really!”

Aria and Adagio may have been pleasantly surprised to be greeted by physical evidence that puppet sirens could control people without singing, since Celestia had recommended they wait to try it, but seeing their sister coo with the little brat was disgusting.

The sight forced Luna to think as well, about how she’d changed. Just like her sister had assured her in her post multiple orgasm daze, all she felt when she put her ring on was powerful. Yet seeing Sweetie Belle, Rarity’s pride and joy, made eternally happy and obedient with magic simply because even they weren’t low enough to make Martin have sex with children (the lust spell still worked on ones who had already hit puberty though, so he’d have to be careful), made her question just what the red stone on her finger really meant. Not that she objected though, she felt better and more powerful helping the Dazzlings than she felt she ever had before, and Sweetie Belle was rather cute this way.

“So, Sweetie Belle, could you please tell us where you’re big sister and Martin are,” Celestia asked in a kind, but not annoying to Adagio and Aria tone.

“Oh! Right! Come on in, they’ll be down in a second!”

Every step Martin took on the way downstairs was torture. Wearing the outfit Rarity had made for him was even more painful than he’d expected, because as well as feeling like a prison, it greatly emphasized sexy over comfortable, and he figured this was what girls often complained about.

The orange flannel shirt chafed and reminded him of why he always wore t-shirts before. The gold spiked collar, similar to Adagio’s hairband, which Rarity had promised to get modified to be like a dog’s collar, was equally unforgettable, especially since he was already being choked by the necklace that now hung underneath it, but the worst was his crotch.

Even unerect his cock was squished against the boa-constrictor-tight purple leather of his pants. And although there’d originally a thong in the bag Rarity had brought up and figured it might’ve been pretty sexy, Rarity could anticipate his mistress’s needs far better now, and tossed them out. And when Rarity learned he wasn’t to be her gentleman to train, she’d solved his stamina problems with a red rubber cockring she claimed she’d been keeping for a special occasion, that the two of them proceeded to test and prove that it could indeed prolong erections as if metal, but would only pinch when his cock was was erect, as to be worn 24/7.

In the dimly lit showroom of Carousel Boutique, the five sirens waited as they heard the sound of cowboy boots coming down the stairs. It was a miracle that Martin made it all the way down the stairs at night with the purple sunglasses he was wearing, but a dark orange cowboy boot and dark blue leather pants leg stepped out into the room, and the most provocatively dressed boy any of them had ever seen followed them, spreading his purple leather jacket wide to show off his flannel shirt (which made Adagio blush a little), then doing a 360 on his heels, making Aria.

Thankfully, he hadn’t been ordered to smile, since Rarity felt bad about doing a fashion show with only one piece, but with his glasses hiding his normally dead eyes, it would have been convincing.

It was hot in his outfit, and the sweat of performing made it hotter. Fluttershy had never come, and when Sweetie Belle did, Martin had been forced to tell Rarity she could simply use the ring to control her, which made him wonder why he ever saw her as potential salvation. Optimism hadn’t worked, Martin was all out of ideas. And judging by Rarity’s reaction when he saw her control Sweetie Belle, that was good news for his mistresses.

“Fellow sirens,” they all heard from the stairs, accompanied by clopping female boots. “I have fully embraced your particular way of life, and as my first contribution to evil, I present to you, Cutie Pie (ugh. Cutie Pie? Really?).”

Rarity uttered the last part under her breath as she followed Martin out into the room. When she saw Celestia and Luna in normal clothes, and all five of their expressions of shock, instead of being discouraged, she saw a challenge in combining every of-age CHS student’s personal preferences and personality into a uniform code of unorthodox combination dress and pronounced colors, and gave a happy shudder at all the work she had ahead of her.

“Well thanks, Rarity,” Aria said contemptuously as she threw off her jacket and began walking towards Martin. “But I’ve been waiting all weekend for this…” When she was close enough, she grabbed Martin and pulled him into a hard, passionate kiss.

Looking past her, Martin saw the remaining five take a step forwards, and knew they were all going to be late for school on Monday.

Blind Date, Foreseeable Result

One part of Martin’s designated “toy” outfit nobody had thought through was that there was only one of it, and seven sex-filled days of the weak. Only wearing the collar and cockring with his blessedly soft T-shirt and jeans was the only consolation Martin felt as he sat on the bleachers outside school, watching his new target foreshadow their future interactions by dominating the game.

It was late in the day, and the shadow of the bleachers loomed over the entire soccer field. Martin had personally seen (or rather, not seen) his fair share of dark “bedrooms” in his foster homes, and he was probably saving on his electricity bill with how his mistresses (especially Luna) liked to keep his apartment lights dimmed, but it seemed that many of the players in the practice soccer match were having trouble keeping their eyes on the ball.

Rainbow Dash, aka his target wasn’t phased though. Before he’d gotten to see her play every time he volunteered to staff a game, and whatever she played like, it wasn’t a soccer player. She weaved between players like one of Rarity’s needles, kicked like Martin wished he could every time his mistress played with him, and ~~moved~~ sped like the bolt on the CHS soccer uniforms. She wasn’t perfect; she’d lost no less than 18 balls that afternoon and missed six goals from haste, overconfidence, or inability to utilize her teammates, and she’d get chewed her out for it later, but the fact she even had that many chances showed what kind of future she had to look forward to. In theory. In practice, when asked who their newest recruit should be, Rarity insisted on Rainbow Dash.

“Sunset would certainly have her merits, but I feel right now evil needs more… energetic members”

Sweetie Belle had done the closest thing to begging her older sister’s control would allow to have Martin go get Applejack so they could start reforming the Crusaders, but Rarity had admitted she was nervous going after kind Fluttershy, brave Applejack, conscientious Sunset or… something Pinkie Pie. Martin had to agree that Rainbow Dash was the only one he could visualize on top of him, in bright colors and leather, calling him a worthless slut. But then again, once that conversation was over, principals Celestia and Luna rid him and called him a worthless slut, so original personalities seemed like a minor inconvenience to the ring’s magic.

Optimism hadn’t saved him or Rarity a few days ago, but every time a goal was scored and the game continued despite the darkening sky, Martin was glad to see them continue. Alas, at 27-14, Rainbow Dash’s team, Soarin blew his whistle for the final time, and the students all came to the center to complement each other’s performance and say goodbye. And when Rainbow Dash turned her head away from the mid-field huddle to acknowledge the presence of her supposed date for the evening for the first time, Martin’s heart stopped cold.

He’d entered his target’s offices, he’d entered his target’s homes, but now he was just sitting out in the open, waiting for her to come to him. She was smiling, but it still felt like she knew she was looking at the boy who’d killed three of her friends, and had now come for her, and was ready to tear him apart with her lightning quick speed, impossible strength and martial arts skills like she’d do for anyone else who hurt her friends. Rarity had only thought Applejack would be more problematic because she wasn’t going to be the murderer alone in a room with those perfectly chiseled muscles. Martin almost hoped the spell would work properly.

The gaze only lasted a second before Dash’s attention turned back to the group. She’d had a blast, as always, and her friends seemed to agree, but in truth she was a little impatient. A “nice kick” here, a “remember, dribbling, not running” there, and she tried to pay attention during her anticipated chewing out, but the rush of battle was only beaten by the rush of juices, so she said her goodbyes with the rest as the mass of blue and yellow uniforms dissipated. Most headed for the street or the parking lot, since only the student coaches had the time for showers at school this late, but Dash of course put her eyes back on Martin, and sauntered across the field towards the bleachers.

In the 30 second it took for her to reach him, Martin’s heart felt dead, it beat far too slowly. When she finally stood in front of him, looking down (he regretted his decision to sit on the first row), she put her hands hands on her hips and smiled, and he swore if nobody ever did that again, it’d be too soon.

“Well, hi Martin,” she said almost sarcastically in her signature shrill, but not unpleasant voice, and held out her hand. “I guess I’m Rainbow Dash, and we’re supposed to fuck.”

Martin slowly took her hand and stood up to look at her violet eyes and strangely hued but otherwise flawless face up close for the first time in recent memory. They had no classes together, and his most memorable experiences of her were always watching her kick some demon or opposing team or musical ass from a distance. She was probably the most godly of the magical six to him, since Sunset had been making every attempt to seem human since the Formal. The fact that Dash seemed to be reluctant about Rarity’s supposed blind date at least allowed Martin to respond though.

“Yeah, I guess we are,” Martin gave a soft smile that said he agreed with her skepticism. “Look I’m not sure I think this is one of Rarity’s normally great ideas, but if she thinks both of us being awesome is reason enough to get together…”

Rainbow Dash chuckled, but Martin paused. He’d spent over a week remaining hidden by keeping his head down and using his acquired lying skills when necessary, but his mission to Rarity had shown him what a little stress could do to one’s believability. If he wanted to succeed in his mission, he had to play his part well, and choose his next words very carefully.

“... I-I don’t see why we couldn’t talk a few minutes. M-maybe go get dinner tonight?”

Rainbow smiled again. She didn’t understand what the big deal about him was. Was he cute? Sure. In fact, looking at him now, Rarity might’ve been onto something, but she’d seen him in the hallways and he was no Big Mac or Soarin. Why did Rarity or Fluttershy or Applejack care so much if he had a few four ways with the new girls? The’d had six ways together, maybe they were just leading by example. And if he and the “Dazzlings” had fallen out, leaving Martin to search for a true companion like Rarity said, why shouldn’t she give him a shot? After a few rounds… of dinner of course!, she’d see if she’d found her latest boy toy.

“Heh. Dinner? Why not. Just let me change and shower first.” she turned towards the school, but then paused, and smiled even bigger. Martin got a sinking feeling her next words would be:

“It’s getting kinda cold. If you want we can choose the restaurant inside.”

Martin’s body ached to shudder, and he was reminded of the rubber around his base, but he said yes anyways, because saying yes anyways was kinda his thing now.

Following Rainbow Dash across the field, Martin, like most of CHS, couldn’t help himself but look at her upper back. Of course he saw nothing but the yellow lightning bolt on her soccer shirt, and below it there probably were no scars or anything (Though he’d probably find out for sure soon enough), but even with physical evidence of magic’s existence banging around his neck, he still couldn’t get over that a month ago this very back had sprouted blue wings.

When they opened the doors and stepped into the dark but familiar hallways, Martin had to thank said physical evidence for at least getting him out of the cold which Rarity wouldn’t let him wear one of his jackets for. The mere idea of heat though, snowballed, and Martin had caught a glimpse of the two round cheeks swaying beneath the blue gym shorts before he even realized she’d vaporize him for it. Okay, she probably wouldn’t, but even without that Rainbow power (no pun intended) that blew a crater out front, he knew she was inhumanly strong.

And then that idea snowballed, and Martin remembered where they were going both figuratively and literally. Lustful and depraved minds thought alike, and Dash’s original intention might’ve actually been for a change and shower, but pretty soon she’d be glad she brought him to such an isolated area. He thought back to when the crowd broke, and remembered seeing the two coaches head inside, but he’d been in shouting distance of other people during his missions before, and it hadn’t helped.

Bracing himself for doing it he fourth time was like bracing himself for a flu shot, only worse (though that probably went without saying). There’d be the build up, and then there’d be the forced orgasms, and then there’d be the wind down and explanation, and finally, the ring. He knew the process, and every step was painful, but…

“But what?” he realized/asked. “What’s supposed to happen next? You go get Fluttershy, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and Sunset in random order, and then what happens? If nobody comes to help you, are all those internet searches going to become a reality? Will the Dazzlings rule two worlds, and will you be-”

“So,” Rainbow turned back to him as she put her hand on the door the the girls locker, snapping Martin out of his trance. “I’m gonna take a quick shower now.” She paused, and then looked down naughtily. “Butcha know… there shouldn’t be anyone else around. You maybe wanna-” but she paused again, and her smile faded as she contemplated her next move. Martin could see the conflict on her face; her expressions were so exaggerated he’d seen her decide what she wanted for lunch from across the soccer field while she played. But there was no point to her reluctance. She was less than a foot away from him; her realizing she was coming on too strong was like trying to stop a plugged-in phone from charging by using it. Plus, Martin had his orders.

“Dash, common decency and that sign say I should wait outside, and I will if you want me to, but what I saw outside shows that you don’t do “common”, and “decent” doesn't do you justice,”

Dash’s smile returned full force with his every flattering word. He knew what was up.

“Eh, true. No peeking,” Dash cautioned sarcastically, and stepped inside.

Martin figured he and Rainbow Dash were in opposite positions. He saw the innuendo in his mental words, and wondered if two people participating are in two different positions, or if they both make up “the position”, but then he brought himself back to the point.

He was sitting, fully clothed on the cool metal of the bench, Dash was feeling the steaming water flow down her naked form. He was worrying about the future, Dash was fantasizing about it.

Despite what she’d teased outside, Dash had pulled the curtain closed and tossed her shoes, socks, shorts, panties, shirt and bra out afterwards. But she’d done it with no less enthusiasm or confident smiles, and she’d either forgotten to grab a towel, or that was probably Martin’s job (to either get it and put it on her sexxily, or just do the towel’s job). The mere sight of her bare feet as water poured down them was pretty hot though, and although through the thick curtain her naked shadow was nigh-indistinguishable from her clothed one, Martin still felt like he could see everything.

In Canterlot, everyone seemed born with marble smooth skin, ideal faces and stunning bodies. Ms Cake was the only exception to the body requirement, and Rainbow Dash was the rule. Getting strong wasn’t necessary for her survival like it was for Martin’s, but years and years of exercise, both for fun, and to reach that unspecified ideal had allowed her to put the “peak” and “physical” in “peak physical condition”.

And about her face and breasts; Rarity’s were “objectively” better, but beauty was part of her character, but Martin realized that Dash’s charm, besides being awesome, was that her character was Rainbow Dash. Full, pert breasts, a well-rounded ass and perfect face were just bonuses. This made that fact that her character was about to become a parody of itself, and her bonuses tools of his oppression all the more painful.

He saw the shadow of the athletic coed lean against the wall, so he asked himself how badly he “needed” to fuck her, and learned “not desperately”. But the he heard what sounded vaguely like the word “no” over the sound of the water, and saw her standing back up, then bend forwards supporting herself by her knees. The idea of immunity sprung up in his mind again, but not wanting to make the same mistake twice, he remembered the past few minutes and dismissed the idea.

But the longer she stood there, wasting water (he was worrying about that now?!) the more her reluctance (being reluctant to rape someone. Imagine that) became clear. Martin instinctively pushed on her knees to stand up and approach her, but midway up he stopped to consider that compassion hadn’t had much place these past few weeks (unless you counted with him. He could’ve used some). Thinking back to what had been rumored after the Formal, and confirmed by Rarity, he remembered Rainbow Dash was the loyal part of friendship.

“Could it be,” he thought as he stood all the way up. “She knows doing what her crotch is telling her to do would be a massive betrayal?”

Finally, she stood up straight again and resumed washing herself, but her arms moved slowly, and Martin could feel his mission fading into the background of his mind, like how he felt whenever he fulfilled an order.

“She’s absorbing the necklace magic,” Martin gave a faint smile as he realized what was happening. “But sucking it up like a sponge! Holy shit! This might be my chance!”

“R-Rainbow Dash?”

“”Wha-” she stammered. “Uh, yeah?”

“I, um,” he stammered. Every second he got stronger, but he was still reluctant. “I-I think maybe-”

“What’s wrong?”

What was wrong was the necklace, which he cast a glance down at. Past the studs of his collar, the red stone hurt his eye like a bad glare, but this time, he knew it’s influence was fading.

“I don’t think,” he tried to just spit it out like Luna’s cum, but it was like telling off a bully. “I don’t really want to-” The water stopped, but before Dash could pull aside the curtain:

“Idon’twannahavesexwithyou!”

Dash froze, her bare hand visible around the curtain.

“I don’t want to have sex with you” Martin’s heart leaped when he realized what he was going to say next. “And I want to leave!”

Martin spun around expecting to see his path to freedom. It didn’t occur to him that since he hadn’t told Dash anything useful, best case scenario, he’d return to his mistresses having failed, and probably get punished for it. Rainbow Dash was a ticking timebomb, and that’s why the the human face that he actually saw that said:

“Leaving your girl wet, hardly behavior befitting a gentleman.”

-in a similarly shrill voice was problematic.

Martin jumped back on surprise, putting enough distance between the two of them for the picture to become clear. Student coach Spitfire, the second coolest named and twenty-fourth hottest girl in Canterlot High had entered while the shower and their conversation and the running drowned out the sound of the door or her footsteps. Martin didn’t have time to ask why she’d decided to sneak up on him because she smiled maliciously and held out her finger.

And she didn’t have time to continue sarcastically reprimanding him either, because Rainbow Dash came out of the shower, and both of them snapped their heads sideways to see her rounded and erect breasts, hairless and puffy snatch, and body wasn’t just in excellent shape (he counted at least eight packs), but was virtually bursting with power and muscles that her fairly slender form couldn’t properly contain, all shimmering wet and beautiful.

And neither of the girls had time to say anything, because Martin hit Spitfire in the face.

Without looking he pulled his right fist up and it connected with the gorgeous drill sergeant's chin, just like it was supposed to. Like the last time he punched a girl with orange hair (strange they way things work out), he wasn't prepared and didn’t hit with all the force contained in his own impressive bust. But he still heard the telltale *thud*, and his fist hurt the moment it connected with the hard bone. He didn’t care if she was technically innocent, he didn’t care that CHS’s fasted and strongest had just seen him hurt her friend (though he probably should’ve), he only cared about leaving

It seemed to work. He’d knocked her just slightly to the side, and she immediately did the rest by bending over to protect her now aching jaw and teeth. Time slowed down, and with freedom and haste that would make the more patriotic man shout “the British are coming!”, he shoved his left hand over his returning right, and pushed on her side to slip between her and the bench.

“Spit!” Rainbow cried out, but in an almost dull tone, as if she was just going through the motions. It was hopefully too later though, because he was already on his was out. It felt like he was walking through tar, but he brought his other one in front to, and now just 20 feet from what he perceived as ultimate freedom, he ran.

“One step. C’mon, c’mon. Two steps. C’mon, c’mon”

He was in the CHS entrance hall again, the evil presence lurking behind him. Three steps, four steps, five steps, the blue wooden door got bigger and bigger. He felt the handle within arms reach, and though he knew better than to slow down, he did put his hands out to stop himself. Slamming into it shoulder-first with a *thud* that put that last one to shame, he felt a pain in his shoulder, but he still wasted no time in grabbing the metal handle to yank back with all his might.

In a twist everyone but Martin saw coming, the door moved a millimeter (which felt like a mile with his rapid heartbeat), but then was stopped with a light *clink*. He pulled on it for almost a second longer before he realized Spitfire had had the foresight to lock it.

He shoved the door back and reached for the lock, but he’d barely put his hand on it before he felt first a rush of air behind him. Then something hit the back of his left knee, knocking it out from under him, and he grunted and fell forward into a forced kneeling position, nearly banging his face into the door. For a second he worried if either of his knees might be broken, but he didn’t feel any pain. At least, not until two hands landed on his shoulders, and threw him backwards onto the linoleum floor. This time, he did bang his head.

He shut his eyes and grunted again as he felt the thud, and everything shook. His fears of a serious injury were amplified, but when he opened his eyes a second later, the first thing he saw was a naked crotch, which meant that he had bigger problems.

Rainbow Dash had already stepped over her newly designated victim, and then dropped down to straddle his midsection.

The sudden weight on his chest painfully knocked the wind out of Martin, and opened his eyes as he jerked upwards. Unfortunately, like a closing mousetrap, she caught his wrists as they flew up, and pinned then back down above his head.

Above him, Dash was the animal pouncing her prey he first thought Celestia would become. She was panting quickly, her purple eyes were narrowed and focused, and her mouth was a grin eviler than Cel/Molestia’s but hungrier than Adagio’s. He felt a warmth seeping into his shirt where she was sitting, which he knew was only partially from the shower, but he didn’t even try to struggle underneath her. Martin had thought himself strong at one point in his life, but he knew he’d lost every bit of actual muscle the moment he heard Aria singing, and now his six-pack (which Rainbow beat by two) was just an inert band around his waist that girls liked to look at. There were alternatives to fighting though.

“Rainbow Dash, Spitfire,” though afraid, he spoke with a clarity and purpose he hadn’t felt in a week. “You’re being mind controlled. This necklace makes you horny, and it makes me obey the Dazzlings,” he reiterated what he’d told Celestia and Rarity after they’d finally calmed down and were mentally prepared to slip on the rings. “They’ve taken over Rarity and Celestia and Luna through the rings. No matter what I say later you can’t put the rings (he carried two) I brought with me on!”

At first, like talking to a therapist, simply saying what he’d been holding back to so long to someone who hadn’t already gone twenty rounds (not of dinner) with him felt incredible and filled him with purpose. But before he could form another smile at the thought of having struck his first definitive blow against the Dazzlings, he realized that Dash hadn’t even changed the nature of her breathing, much less her expression as she was told that she was being turned into a rapist against her will, and he started to feel like he was talking to a brick wall.

“Rainbow Dash?”

“I can hear you, you little slut,” The literally sopping wet teenager retorted aggressively.

“But we’ll soon fix that,” he heard Spitfire’s voice behind him, and he tilted his head back on the floor as far as he could to get the images of her reaching into her duffel bag on the bench, which he vaguely recalled having seen there earlier. She pulled out two objects, and though upside-down they were hard to recognize, one was large and silver, the other was smaller and white. “Because boys are to be seen, not heard!”

She turned towards them, and footsteps silent on the tiles, came closer. He saw that the silver thing was circular, and that the white thing was misshapen in her hand, and he forgot what he’d thought earlier about alternatives.

“No. Not now,” he thought commanded as he looked back down. He only caught sight of Dash’s pack and hairless pussy (he guessed he’d never know what rainbow pubic hair looked like), but he felt his legs were unobstructed and still bent behind that. Rainbow Dash stopped looking at Spitfire with an evil and appreciative grin, for once glad that soccer cleats and pylons needed to be patched mid-game so often, when she felt Martin shift underneath her, then slam his knee into her lower back.

She flinched, but didn’t cry out or loosen her grip on his hands. She looked behind her as Martin kneed her a second time, still which had no more effect than the first. She turned her head around again and pushed on her/Martin’s hands, trying to slide herself backwards and sit on his legs as well. Martin bore a grim expression, but when his third hit already had significantly less force than the first two, he knew he had to try the other thing he probably should’ve done earlier. He looked up at the ceiling, and pressed his voice as hard as he still remembered how.

“SOARIN! HE-” was all he got out before he saw Spitfire knelt down to swing her hand down onto his mouth.

She’d timed it perfectly, and the thankfully clean (he could deal with panties, but was dubious as to other clothing) pair of bundled up socks was halfway into his mouth instantly. Martin choked in sheer surprise, but that just let his orange haired attacker push them in further. He tried to clench his teeth and spit them out, but she dropped the duct tape and used both hands, stuffing it further and further in until she was able to slide them in sideways like a battery, and he wouldn’t be getting his voice back without the use of his hands.

She grabbed the tape again and stood back up, and both she and her friend smiled at the image of the brown-haired stallion’s handsome face choking on Spitfire’s spare pair of socks. Martin soon resumed the former part of “kicking and screaming”, but his heart wasn’t fully in it anymore, and Spitfire circled around to kneel down and start holding his feet. She caught his right foot, but needed both hands to hold it in place. She then pulled her head out of the way as his left tried to kick her, and leaned down on both of them.

“Careful. He’d a feisty one,” Rainbow Dash warned staring down triumphantly at her new captive, whose eyes had become thin and angry.

“Whether on the field or in the bedroom, insubordination is insubordination,” Spitfire repeated the idiom she’d used on Dash in their first few flings. “You have to firmly establish chain of command before you do anything else.”

“Urm Mph!” Martin groaned through his gag. Two victims at a time was a new experience for him, but he didn’t find their soccer jokes the least bit funny.

“So what, we gonna make him run a few laps for us?” Rainbow Dash sarcasmed as she looked Martin right in the eye.

“Actually,” Spitfire said as she reached for the duct tape. “I was thinking we’d run a few for him.”

It’d taken the entire roll, but Martin was right where they wanted him, and they were quite proud of their handiwork. First, they’d bound his ankles and thighs, then wrists, then in true kidnapper fashion, tied him to the nearest seat.

His current position, on a toilet, best approximated how he felt. His jeans were pulled down underneath the tape around his thighs, and extra strips of tape held his thighs to the seat, ankles to the bottom column, and forearms uncomfortably to the piping. His yet-unerection was trapped between his legs.

Standing in the locked stall with him, Spitfire and Rainbow Dash admired their prize up and down with sideways grins like a well earned trophy, and Martin was unsure how to feel. He understood now that a physical escape attempt was futile, but with the necklaces control over him suspended, being tied up felt like nothing, and he wanted to actually accomplish something before they wound down and he was a slave again.

“So,” the one of the right finally said. “It’s been ten minutes, and you still haven’t explained what you meant by running a few laps for him.”

The remainder of Spitfire’s promise made Martin’s eyes soften and turn to look at her for her response, afraid and confused.

“Weeeeell,” the flame haired instructor pulled her blue soccer shirt off so quickly both Martin and Dash gave her a look of surprise. “One thing I’ve learned from Soarin, Thunderlane, and any other boy stupid enough to try is that behind every supposedly confident cock is a pussy hungry whore.”

She quickly peeled her shirt off and tossed it into the next stall, leaving a dark blue bra to cover her considerably sized melons, but then paused and looked up.

“Except for gay boys. And asexuals. And probably some people with mental diff- POINT IS, he is, just have to show him that.”

She turned to Dash, who smiled in response. Neither of them believed what Spitfire had just said, and Martin knew it. Remembering that, he tried to keep the necklace and its effects at the forefront of his mind, and not get angry with the girls, but he knew from experience that would be difficult. They walked like Spitfire and Rainbow Dash, talked like Spitfire and Rainbow Dash, and hypothetically speaking, he had to admit this was how if Spitfire and Rainbow Dash were rapists, this was how they’d do their job (or rape more of a hobby? Questions, questions).

A still naked but by now mostly dry Dash placed her hands on the slopes of Spitfire’s breasts, before sliding her thumbs underneath the cups of her bra and pulling them up. Spitfire’s tits were almost at firm as Dash’s, and barely jiggled as they came free.

Spitfire took the straps in her hands and pulled it over her head to finish the job. With a flick of her wrists, her bra joined her blouse in the other stall, while Rainbow Dash reaffirmed her grip on her coach and on and off lover’s breasts, and gave them both a tight squeeze.

Spitfire gave a small jump when her lover grabbed her so hard so suddenly, but she was noiseless, and her confident smile quickly matched Dash’s. The two of them looked back at Martin’s eyes, which were now wide and afraid as he realized where this was going. He was mentally free now, but the duct tape, which he felt he could tear through no problem, was going to hold him back as they inevitably got him hard and then… well, then he didn’t know, but they’d already proven their sadistic creativity. They also cast a glance in unison at the elastic ring between his legs, which they’d noticed and recognized when they pulled down his pants.

Martin squeezed his legs together like he had to pee, and the two, still perfectly synchronized, turned back to each other. They’d see how long he’d last.

Rainbow gripped her coach’s breasts tight again, and shoved her against the blue stall wall, rattling the entire room. The sudden impact hurt her back a little, but no stranger to pain or Dash’s enthusiasm, Spitfire ignored it and closed her eyes to loll her head back, leaving the rest of her body open to sexual attack.

Rainbow squeezed and fondled vigorously, pushing the orbs of flesh every which way, as if trying to see how much give her round but taught milk tanks really had, which wasn’t a lot. Martin stared at both of their breasts intently, but more out of fascination. He thought about his missions to to Rarity, Celestia and Luna versus how they were now. Ignoring the fact that she now had (different) superpowers, and was evil, he thought about her breasts (and no, the idea of him skipping a girl’s personality to think about her jugs was not lost on him), and wondered what Dash’s would look like after a week under the spell. He could imagine them, flopping up and down on the soccer field, too large and full to be contained by school-issued uniforms. He also envisioned himself drinking Dash’s milk, and felt a slight twitch between his legs.

“Ugh,” Spitfire moaned as Dash gave her neck a long lick. Her tastebuds massaged her smooth skin, and left a trail of cold liquid that Dash proceeded to warm up by planting several kisses along her navel, all while still groping her mammaries. ‘Oh god, Dash.”

The smell of arousal now wafted throughout the small space, and Martin was reminded of the cold stickiness of the spot on his lower shirt where Dash had sat. Spitfire wrapped her arms around Dash’s back and placed them on her perfectly rounded and tight ass cheeks. Seeing this, Martin remembered when Sonata or Celestia would grope his ass, and could feel their hands sliding and squeezing all over his own exposed ass under the seat. He was also reminded of how they’d kiss and nuzzle his neck when they were feeling cuddly, and felt their lips and tongues underneath his heavy col-

He felt his hardening member pushing his thighs apart. And no sooner did he look down than he felt the ring tightening around his base.

Rainbow Dash was unwilling to give up her advantage to her coach, who teased and challenged her just as much in bed as on the field. As she nibbled Spitfire’s neck to distract her, Dash removed her left hand from Spitfire’s breasts and slipped it under the hem of her shorts. And just as Spitfire opened her eyes to realize what was happening, Dash stuck a single digit in and wasted no time in scratching and wiggling it around, eliciting another strong moan from her former master, who was now just the second of Rainbow’s bitches in the room.

A fire was building between Spitfire’s legs, and she opened her eyes with a hazy smile, expecting to see Dash’s normally loving face once she’d stopped attacking her neck. But Dash was still clairvoyant enough to remember why they were doing this. She looked back at Martin, who tugged his hands against the duct tape to cover his fully erect seven inches.

“That’s a good boy,” Rainbow Dash smirked, and casually pulled her hand out stepped away from her friend, causing Spitfire to stumble forwards, holding herself up by her knees and lightly panting.

Ignoring her friend’s anguish, Dash stepped over to Martin, towering above him. For three seconds the two of them stood there as Spitfire recovered. In those three seconds though, he realized that he could have just closed his fucking eyes in the past minute, and started to feel stupid. In an attempt to compensate, Martin leaned forwards as far as he could, and pulled his legs back to the same degree, forcing his erection up against his stomach and making it nigh impossible to grab or sit on. If he wasn’t gagged he might’ve given her a raspberry.

Rainbow Dash was having none of that though, and responded but punching him in the face.

With the sock in his mouth to cushion any blows to the jaw, and the constant stench of sweat and juices in his life making the destruction of his nose a favor, the forehead was probably the worst place the impossible athlete could have struck.

The world shook around him and his head flew back towards the wall. With a loud thud, the back of his head slammed into the wall, and then he slumped forwards on the toilet. The headache was instant, as he felt the pain in the back of his head from earlier come back twice as strong. His eyes went dim, and lessons about concussions, fractured skulls and internal bleeding flooded back to him. He’d been punched before, but it certainly didn’t feel like it.

Martin then felt fingers around his chin, and his limp head was pulled up to look at a beige and rainbow blur.

“Horgh blub blub,” Rainbow Dash said. Okay, she didn’t really but that was all Martin could hear with his brains still unscrambling. It didn’t matter either way though, because Dash pushed against his chest, and not wanting a second fist-sized hole in his head, Martin complied to bending back to leave his cock vulnerable.

Without breaking their eye contact, Dash knelt down and wrapped her still-moist hands around his prick. It had softened somewhat from the pain, but she negated that quickly by starting to squeeze and pump both her hands. His senses had chosen the worst possible time to start working again, and Martin’s head immediately fell back, making her grin. He’d tried fighting orgasms before, and while he could tell she wasn’t as skilled as any of his current mistresses, he knew better than to give Rainbow Dash any challenge.

Her hands were aggressive and fast, pumping as hard as his own back when he still needed to masturbate. After a few seconds, Dash felt him hard and warm in her hands again, and finally looked down to start flicking her tongue across his tip, slobbering over it like a dog. Martin spasmed but didn’t look down. The painful pleasure feeling of it reminded him of what how long he’d take to cum, but he closed his eyes and remembered, once again, he’d survived it before.

Dash removed one of her hands, leaving two tight things around his base, and then swallowed him down to his midpoint. She squeezed his base harder and sucked upwards, bobbing her head up and down very quickly, as if trying to rush him to oragasm even with his ring.

This time, Martin did look down, but while his cock felt the warm bliss of her mouth, his eyes were caught by Spitfire, who had fully recovered from earlier and was now looking at both of them, hands guess-where with her own, authoritative smile.

“Well, I’m glad to see the new toy is enjoying this,”

“Hahain, hor hehing hine hunhrolled!” Martin said, but without energy, and was glad when they ignored him.

“But Dashie,” she leaned down and moved her hand towards her exposed flank. “How come he gets to cu- orgasm and not your coach?”

Rainbow Dash gave a slight shudder on Martin’s cock as Spitfire ran her index finger along the outside of her vagina, but she kept her focus and continued to blow him, as if challenging Spitfire to get her to respond.

The fact that she’d been looking him in the eye while she teased Dash however, showed Spitfire was only interested in Martin as well. She stood back up and moved around him to his right. There was little room between the toilet and the wall, but she stood tall and confident.

Martin stared back at her, fighting the urge to thrust into Dash’s mouth he had to concentrate to stop himself from thrusting back.

“Mr Saylin. Normally I’d never ask them of a rookie,”

“Hihm hnot ha hookie. Hi het haped hevhy-”

“But with the handicap of your cockring!” she shouted over his muffled protests in the voice trained to control entire fields of other teenagers. “We’re going to allow you to put that pretty face of your’s to better use and prove you’re worthy of our time.”

Martin went silent, and she dropped her shorts and underwear, revealing another smooth, moist snatch, and kicked her garments out under the door.

“Now I’m gonna to take that gag out, and you’re going to eat me out before miss Dash finishes.”

“We’ll see,” Rainbow Dash literally popped her mouth off to instinctively say upon hearing “before” predate “Dash” in a sentence. In reality though, she knew there’d be plenty of time for actual games later, but they were just fooling around. Once this was over, and Martin got over his shyness and stopped telling stories crazy even for CHS, they could be a real couple, and hey, when they were done here, there’d still be time for dinner. Maybe she could even play him a tune or two, and be his angel.

“And if I even suspect you’re calling for help, or hear one syllable about mind control or magic, or if you cum before I do,”

“-Well, heh, let’s just say we’ll add the SM to your bondage and domination,” Dash joked.

Martin understood their threat, and took a pause to weigh his options. Telling them the truth was about as helpful here as it was in online debates (which he realized would make getting them to put on the rings difficult). Calling for help? How long had it been since the game ended at 5:30, an hour? Probably less, but Soarin had almost certainly left, and janitor and faculty schedules were arbitrary, but he’d worked with them enough times to know that if anyone was still there this late, they would be so exhausted even desperate cries of “rape” wouldn’t keep them from heading home soon.

Martin looked back at her and nodded. Spitfire silently poked her finger onto the exposed part of the sock, and wiggled her finger between it and his lips to get a grasp on it’s sides. Her wiggling digit felt tickled the inside of his cheek, but Martin remained still, and allowed her to grab and dislodge the cloth bundle.

He spit the socks out of his mouth, and just like every time he was ungagged, took a deep breath and moved his sore jaw around. Spitfire raised her naked leg high and stepped over his lap, straddling him.

Rainbow Dash looked up and smiled at the view while Spitfire put her arms against the wall and leaned in, the toilet being just the right height to make her pussy edible… and bitable, from his position.

“And if you’re even thinking about using your teeth,” Rainbow Dash apparently read his mind, and he looked down to see her looking down. “An eye for an eye. A clit for a dick.”

Martin’s already cooling dick nearly went soft for good when she said that. Logically, he knew she’d never follow through with such a threat, but two weeks ago he’d known she’d never rape him. His eyes twitching back and forth between Dash’s face and Spitfire’s cunt, he slowly looked up, and stuck out his tongue.

He was used to the warm bitter taste of female arousal by now, so he closed his eyes and gave her vulva a vertical lick, sponging up all her seeped juices. Spitfire gave no response, and he could see out of the bottoms of his eyes Rainbow was still watching, so he gulped down the honey, closed his eyes, straightened his tongue, and shoved it all the way in.

Spitfire gasped at the penetration, and satisfied it was all uphill from there, Dash went back to her work. Martin felt the warmth and wetness return to his cock, but remembered what he’d learned about prioritizing during a tag team match, and concentrated on Spitfire.

She leaned in a little further, so that his forehead felt the smoothness of her skin. He first pulled his tongue in and out repeatedly, hoping she wouldn’t get jealous of what Dash had, and again, for all her authoritative demeanor, the sliding of a tongue along her walls got her panting lightly again.

Not wanting to make this too easy for him (any generally just wanting to see this adorable little stud in sexual discomfort), Rainbow Dash bobbed fast again, and swirled her tongue around his entire tip. Her hand to, she pumped harder and faster. Her movements had no coordination, and it felt like he was being serviced in two different ways at once, but her soft lips sliding up and down his length still felt really good, and was made all the more smoother by how her own spit lubed him.

His ring, to, had engorged his cock so that it resembled a sausage link. With all the extra blood trapped inside, every little sensation stung with pleasure, and her while her idly but firmly squeezing hand wouldn’t normally have felt very good, he could feel every ripple on her hand like a teasing feather, and it only forced more blood up to his cockhead.

His face began to perspire, but Martin remembered his orders. Once his thrusting had gotten her warmed up, he implemented his second aquired cunnilingal tool on Spitfire by swirling his tongue around inside her. Again, he attempted to imitate the organ vagina’s were built for (once again, he understood the misogyny implicit in his words) by trying to force her tight walls apart, but she really shook every time he brushed past her clitoris. That was the other purpose of the move; finding a clitoris. After a couple more brushes by, knowing time was off the essence, he pushed his face in as far as he could and began a direct assault by licking her cunny.

Spitfire’s knees buckled beneath her, but she managed to stay in position. Martin wasn’t sure if he could bring her to orgasm fast enough, as the feeling of warmth and bliss had spread to his entire crotch as Rainbow Dash furiously sucked on his dick. The ring would stave off orgasm for what always felt like an eternity of torment to him, but he hadn’t had the foresight to actually time it a several times and get an average TUO (Time Until Orgasm) for each position. And just as he felt like he was getting a good grip of Spitfire's engorged clit, he felt Dash’s hand disappear from his base, and his whole cock get swallowed.

It’d happened before, and it would happen again, but Martin would only figure out how one breather with seven inches of hard flesh in their mouths once his mistresses decided they liked gay porn. For a split second, Rainbow held his entire penis in a pocket dimension of warmth and body heat, then she resumed pumping up and down furiously, licking him up the first few times for moisture, than leaving it all to her lips and esophagus.

Feeling him slowing down and unable to keep his mouth in place, Spitfire took her right hand off the wall and pushed his head further into her. Her hand on the back of his head hurt, and Martin had to further crane his neck to get where she wanted him, wishing he could steady himself with his hands. Nevertheless, he wrapped his own lips around Spitfire's partially exposed clit, and tried to imagine it was one of his mistress’s nipples.

Spitfire groaned again, and Rainbow had to hold back a laugh. It wasn’t that she disrespected her coach; she literally loved her. But for all her barked orders, a skilled tongue or finger could have her moaning like an ametuer in no time flat.

Dash’s pumping had started to slow, and Martin was grateful when the attack on his penis faded into the background, allowing him to focus on Spitfire’s cunt. But with the added focus, he couldn’t help but wonder what Rainbow Dash would become after the ring. All that ego and energy focused towards a less noble pursuit was a frightening idea.

For every suck on her bud, Spitfire panted. Her whole body was wetter than Dash’s had ever been, and she was glad they were already in the shower room and she had a change of clothes, because even if he wasn’t as experienced as Dash or big like Soarin, there was something about him that just made every tiny sensation he gave her feel pitch perfect. An orgasm from him would feel better than any she’d ever had before, but why in Celestia’s name was he taking so long?!

The two of them counted down his last few sucks together, and she screamed as she squirted everything she had.

Due to their angle, only about half of her orgasm made onto his mouth, the rest dropped straight down into Rainbow Dash’s hair. Rather than taking advantage of his mostly free mouth and spitting her warm urine out though, Martin, as Rarity had ordered him to start doing, opened his mouth wide and stuck out his tongue to catch every drop he could. Spitfire’s eyes rolled back and she nearly collapsed backwards, but her actual orgasm only lasted a few seconds. Her loud moan quieted, and she leaned forwards, supporting her hung-over body with both her hands again.

Martin gulped down her honey, and Rainbow Dash popped off his cock again to chime in.

“Well, you think he’s worthy of my time?”

Spitfire took a deep breath, and stood stall again, brushing her hair out of her face and regaining her composure.

“Absolutely not, miss Dash. But I’d be happy to take him off your hands.”

“Oh c’mon,” Rainbow Dash stood up, leaving his cock to face the painful cooling down with enhanced sensitivity. “You already got Soarin. I saved the fucking world, why can’t I-”

“You do *gulp* realize I’m- I’m-” Martin tried to protest, but hesitated, as if he’d forgot something. But before he could realize what it was, Spitfire gave him a backhand slap across the face for his insolence.

Martin flinched to the side, and felt both a stinging in his cheek and red swelling in his mouth, but he didn’t cry out, and remained calm.

“And rule number one of coach Spitfire is: ‘No back talk’”

Martin recognized the order not from his mistresses (they’d never needed to give it), but from several of his foster parents, and it made him nostalgic for the days when rules needed to be enforced.

“You’re lookin kinda sweaty,” Rainbow Dash teased, and gave Spitfire a firm slap on the ass. “Why don’t you go hit the showers while my date and I talk about dinner.”

Spitfire barely flinched.

While they talked, Martin envisioned the entire magical six as Dazzlings. Celestia and Luna had already complained about how difficult keeping up appearances, especially wearing those horribly dull and uncomfortable pantsuits, and Rarity had said she was already etching some ideas for them and their friends. The image that came to his mind of them all as sirens was, ironically, like a superhero team; Adagio, Sonata and Aria in the center, with the six in whatever new outfits best suited their new evil personalities, all behind them in a triangle, with the principals on either side and a sunset (Not Sunset Shimmer. An actual one) in the background. For symmetry purposes, he didn’t feel comfortable adding Spitfire to that image, but when he asked himself where he fit in, the only place that came to mind was wearing only a thong and a collar, and lying at Adagio’s feet, his arms around her leg. Was this the future?

“How about we all take a shower together,” Spitfire suggested.

“Yep. Looks like it,” Martin thought.

“That’s gonna be pretty hard while he’d still tied up,” Rainbow pointed out.

Realizing she was right, Spitfire looked back at Martin.

“Well, shit,” she looked down at his waning member, before Rainbow pushed passed her.

“Hey Martin,” Rainbow Dash said as she reached down and parted her folds. “How about we test that wedding ring of yours with a real athlete?”

“You’re being mind controlled,” Martin reminded lazily, distracted by her crotch.

“Well the two of you never told me it was this much fun!”

It's Fluttershy

“Johnson’s election could have been prevented if…”

The cursor blinked at the end of the phrase on him computer, as if taunting him to prove his brain hadn’t turned to aroused mush.

“-If Johnson had never been born. What the fuck kind of question is this?” Martin typed angrily, then slammed his laptop shut and put his hand to his head and sighed. He knew he shouldn’t be pausing, since Rainbow Dash or Adagio could wake up any moment and order him back to bed, but how was he ever supposed to write two pages on how his assigned president might not’ve been elected when 30 minutes before he’d be sleeping off a gang bang, and 30 minutes later he’d been getting another one?

He used to enjoy moments like these; alone in a room (in this case, Rainbow Dash’s kitchen) with only his homework, because he could at least pretend to have something else to think about. But after he saw Dash’s parents’ eyes glow green as their daughter waved her siren ring in their faces (Spitfire had proved extra baggage enough when she complained about not being able to come with them, and even siren’s had some sense of awkwardness when it came to parental sex), and then make their three guests tortellini as they congratulated Rainbow Dash on her ascension to sirenhood and offered to let her and Adagio use some of their toys on him, taking craps became the only moment of his day he felt any better. In the bathroom, he wasn’t forced to care about Benjamin Franklin or Ms Cheerilee when he knew that a person’s free will and independent thought could be snatched away by a rock.

But he already knew that, didn’t he? And both that train of thought and his struggling academics brought his mind back to the girl he was scheduled to have a study session with later that day.

He shared math class with Sunset Shimmer, and that class had gone through several units independent of what the equations looked like. First month since his transfer: “she’s hot”. Second month- Fall Formal: “She’s so smart and powerful, but kind of a bitch. I should probably focus on my work”. Month after Fall Formal: “Holy shit, did she actually do that! And she’s so nice now but what if I upset her and she relapses or what if-!”. Post capture: “Goddamnit, I’m killing your rehabilitators and friends one by one, and you're just giving me that meek smile! You’re supposed to be smart, why can’t you figure it out?”

Her ignorance was frustrating, but he’d stopped being angry at her for it after the first week or so. He’d gotten over the Fall Formal faster that most students because even if getting mind controlled by a demon girl was a new concept and took some adjusting to, he’d seen people change before, and grudges don’t really work in a life where one can be in another state by the end of the week. And now, even though he’d always figured she’d be the last for some reason, once the daylight shining through the window moved just a little bit further across the floor- oh fuck it’s already on there.

“*Yawn* What’s Cutie Pie doing out of the oven so early,” he heard Adagio’s voice coming from the doorway as if on cue, and cringed both at her terrible joke, and at the fact that, well, Adagio.

“I’m- uh,” he tried to explain without turning around, but was busy wondering how she got downstairs without him hearing it. He made a mental note never live in a house with marble stairs.

“Come on back to bed,” she motioned. “You can do homework later, and we still haven’t tried that ass of yours.”

Martin’s heart stopped for a moment when he realized what she’d said. For the past two weeks, he’d been ridden, groped, forced to grope, ridden, kissed, forced to kiss, forced to suckle, ridden, forced to eat out and even ridden. Alone with any of his mistresses, the air itself was thick with sex and misery, and every meeting with one he dreaded more than the last because Celestia would be forceful and would blow him until he came dry, Rarity would act professional and chastise his “uncouth” mannerisms, Spit and Dash would run his tongue raw and tease him for it, and Sonata would make him kiss her on the cheek and would snuggle-jerk him off in bed. But as of yet, his ass had simply been something to feel up and occasionally spank (as was the case last night). The first few times butt-plugs or anal beads came up in their internet searches, Martin would stare at the link in suspense, but miraculously none of his mistresses had paid them any heed. And thank god, because could feel how tight his sphincter was everytime he used it for its intended purpose, and he knew if anything like what he’d seen in porn or the thumbnails went up his ass, he wouldn’t be torn in half, he’d shatter.

So needless to say, when Dash’s mother had asked her daughter if her sex slave was an anal virgin, and Dash later eyed up one of their strap ons for a few moments longer than necessary, Martin felt the same terror he did back when Aria first grabbed his crotch.

And now he was standing up and shutting his laptop to follow Adagio upstairs. He was going to miss yet another homework assignment because he was literally being fucked up the ass. A doorbell never sounded to pleasant.

Adagio and Martin both froze in place, and slowly turned their heads in the direction of the front door, like two children who’d just heard a bump in the night.

“Should I answer it?” Martin whispered out of habit. Adagio took a moment to think, then turned around, evidently annoyed.

“This is their house. It’s probably for them,” she whispered back angrily, but instead of moving she fixed her eyes on the staircase, waiting for Dash’s parent to come down. Martin walked up to the doorless frame behind her to get a better view and waited with her.

Thirty seconds passed, just waiting, and they didn’t hear any upstairs doors open. Apparently, Dash’s disdain for Saturday morning’s was inherited from her parents, and was left untouched by the from of mind control either party received (though Martin figured if he got in bed with Dash again though, she’d get livelier than a caffeinated Pinkie Pie).

“Okay, go answer it. We’ll wait for you in the bedroom,” Adagio almost groaned in annoyance as she waved her hand at the door and started walking towards the stairs. Even when they were brainwashed to be more like her or to do whatever a siren said, good help was impossible to get, and Cutie Pie was the only one she could count on to do the stupid jobs.

And as much as he cherished every centimeter between him and Adagio, Martin wasn’t too keen on answering the door either. He’d more or less mentally gotten used to lying to people at school by now, but house calls were different. It was a fairly rare occurrence at his apartment after the first week when they all learned to keep the sex-induced decibels in double digits (he’d taken to leaving the door unlocked, and his mistresses never asked permission), but that just made each knock all the more frightening, because he’d have to explain something important or have something important explained to him with a constantly increasing number of horny sirens right behind him. Double embarrassment/fear if the visitor was female, because he’d have to keep the conversation short and pray his mistresses were actually close enough behind him to keep the necklace in check.

You’d never have known his anxiety from how quickly Martin obeyed Adagio though (which was kind of the point), but his mind raced through possibilities of who would be here at this hour, and what he would say to each of them, this not even being his house.

As he reached for the left golden handle, he looked back at Adagio to see she was already up the stairs and walking towards Rainbow Dash’s room, leaving everything to him. And even if she had stayed he’d learned last time it was a crapshoot on whether or not a single other person in the vicinity could reduce the spell’s effects enough. What would he do if it was a talkative woman? Enthralling Spitfire on accident had generated enough complaints, capturing a random Jehovah’s Witness or being forced to call Adagio down to brainwash the woman into leaving him alone would seriously damage his credibility as a puppet siren maker. When he swung the left door open, the sight of an empty driveway and street never looked so pretty.

Martin let go of the door handle to look around better. To the right: nothing but the parked sports car. To the left: bushes. And looking down, the front step was barren of package or newspaper. The idea of having imagined the doorbell crossed his mind for a millisecond before logic ruled it out. A dream perhaps? Then why was he at Dash’s house and not the boiler room or his apartment? As he leaned back in and turned around to head back inside, he came to the obvious conclusion that he was the unwitting victim of a ding-dong-ditch prank, and smiled at how thoroughly the joke was on the unoriginal prankster.

Seeing Adagio was gone, his mood lighter than it had been in quite some time, Martin reached for the door to close it. But then in one swift motion, a booted foot collided with the back of his right knee (again. Probably not very good for it) and an arm grabbed him around his chest, pinning his arms in place.

Before he could realize anything else about his attacker, he felt that they were young and female (by now, he knew that body type very well). The most obvious suspect was Rainbow Dash, whom a prank like this was most in character for. But his attacker’s body felt nothing like the one he’d spent the past few days getting to know very well; too big in the center, too slim on the arms. A split second later though, his suspect list was dramatically decreased when “had access to chloroform” was added to the criteria.

His nose constantly plugged by the smell of bodies and sex, the sickly sweet of the wet cloth that came over his face was almost refreshing. It clapped it over his nose and mouth, and he involuntarily gasped, halving his energy instantly.

His attacker yanked him backwards again, keeping him off balance and bringing them partway out the door. The sudden jerk up though gave Martin a view of the upstairs where he knew four different people would be able to hear him if he could yell. But crying out to girls who could simply hold up their rings or sing a tune and make his attacker let him go was actually something he had to think about.

When he envisioned half of the people upstairs’ faces, he also felt their tongues and tasted their juices. And when he envisioned the other two, their dead-eyed, smiling faces who’d literally told their daughter that she deserved to rule the world and had every right to brainwash anybody she wanted made him imagine the kind of future that was in store if he stayed with the Dazzlings.

He also, however, felt his necklace rattle inside his shirt, and remembered his attacker was female, and felt teenage. What if this was some other girl he’d accidently spent too much time with? And even if she wasn’t, you tend to get to know you’re kidnaping victim fairly well. He looked up at the balcony again and considered, but every debating thought he had was becoming harder to think, as he was breathing without realizing it. His eyelids were becoming heavy, his legs going limp beneath him, and he realized by the time he’d made up his mind to struggle or not, it’d be too late.

“Oh *mental yawn* well. At least Sunset’ll be safe and the girls will be frustrated. And why am I… even able… to consider… goodnight,” he thought as his eyes closed, and he went limp in his kidnappers arms. The last thing he heard sounded vaguely like “Dime Marry”.

The headache was the first thing Martin felt, even before he woke up. Like dehydration mixed with dizziness, it wasn’t excruciating, but it was enough to pull him out of his dreams of purple, orange and blue pterodactyls circling around his bed.

He felt something over his eyes, and opened them to see darkness with daylight seeping through the edges of his cloth blindfold. His neck was sore from hanging his head down, so with a slight groan he straightened his head up, feeling an affixed cushion behind him. The memory of his apparent kidnapping came back to him, but he was a fairly difficult boy to panic at this point. His head still swimming, but he calmly and methodically used his returning senses to work out where he was.

“In a chair. An easy chair. Hands are fixed in place by… what feels like belts. Same goes for my ankles tied around the wooden legs. Breathing Is difficult in both the mouth and the chest, and wires of some sort are cutting into my stomach through my shirt. I’m tied to the back of the chair with several coils of rope, and it feels like some kind or dishrag in my mouth, with, I think it’s called a cleave gag holding it in place.”

Smells of wood, grass, foods and… animals close by, as well as how natural what little light he could see was told him this was no abandoned warehouse either.

“Okay, I’ve been kidnapped, probably by a girl I know who’s under the necklace’s magic, and am in what’s probably a cabin of some sort. A few kids own cabins, and as in these past few weeks a lot more of my female classmates have been giving me lusty stares, so that doesn’t narrow it down much. I don’t have any rings on me though. Without that she may never let me go, so I’m not sure how I’m supposed to get out of this and back to mistresses,” but just as he realized that his apparent mission to get back home didn’t seem all that important, he heard a nearby wooden door slowly creak open and slowly close, but no footsteps.

Somebody was standing roughly 40 feet away from him. A girl he knew, with sizable natural breasts, access to a cabin and chloroform. He felt like he knew who it was from those criteria, but couldn’t place a name or a face. After almost 30 seconds, unless she moved quieter than a barefooted ant, neither of them had budged. Martin decided called out.

“Heho?”

“Eeep!” he heard the girl shriek, and he put the name to the face instantly.

“Huhherhy?”

“EEEEPP,” she shrieked even louder when he said her name. “Uuuh, I mean. Who’s Fluttershy? I am, umm, mast-mistress of, ummm,”

“Huhherhy! Hu heeh hu het-”

“Silence! Um, well, slave is a little harsh.” Fluttershy snapped back as loud as she dared, but then stumbled over which dehumanizing name to call her captive. Martin thought back to how quickly everyone else had been able to think up sexual insults and pet names for him, and wondered if it was just their shared senses of “humor”, or if most girls were just spent their lives thinking them up unable to use them.

“Harhinth hine, hank hu,” he said, hoping by now he spoke gag-speak well enough for her to understand him.

“Oh, okay, I’m sor-” Fluttershy paused, took a deep breath, and started walking over to him. “I’m sorry Martin, but I can’t let you hurt yourself with Sunset or those other girls.”

Martin conceded that technically she was right, but not in the way she meant, and stopped trying to figure out rapist logic to listen further.

“You are a handsome, smart, confident handsome boy who deserves a girl who understands you,” she continued, arriving in front of the blindfolded stud.

“Jesus christ, at least with the rings they can think rationally and share,” Martin grumbled in his head as he heard Fluttershy run through the entitled motions like Rarity and Dash had before her.

“You’re going- I mean, we’re going- I mean, you’re going to learn to love me out here, just like all my other pets!” she huffed, but then beamed as she realized how she’d inadvertently found a good name for him.

“Hime hot ha huckhing het,” Martin replied, almost sarcastically. Fluttershy was kind and accommodating, but rational argument hadn’t saved Spitfire or Dash.

“Hey!” Fluttershy shouted genuinely angry before scanning the room to make sure none of his friends had heard the insult. Martin heard just the faintest of swooshed in the air, and sensed she was holding some kind of stick in his face. “You can’t talk to my friends that way!”

He heard another movement, signalling she’d brought her arm back for a swing. He’d seen pictures of riding crops and sticks online, and while he was occasionally spanked over the table by hand and the hits from Rainbow Dash were fresh in his mind, he figured being hit with a stick would be a whole new kind of stinging pain. He scrunched his eyes under the blindfold and braced himself.

“Heeeyah” she swung towards his cheek… stopped within an inch of it, and tapped him lightly.

She pulled her hand to the other side, swung with another high-pitched but quiet shout, and brushed the stick against his cheek with enough pressure to maybe kill a mosquito there. Martin was a little confused, but wasn’t about to complain about not being whipped.

The don’t-really-wannabe dominatrix “swung” right and left, right and left, right and left, but couldn’t bring herself to actually hit him no matter how hard she tried. Finally, she sighed and dropped her arms panting.

“I’m sorry, this isn’t me,” she apologized, and the stuck dropped to the floor.

“Ho han hi ho?” Martin asked, still cautious to incur her wrath.

After a brief pause, she smiled.

“Oh no,” she leaned in, and her smile grew larger, but to the untrained eye, still without malice. “I just think we should do something we’ll both enjoy.”

“Hi hihy hout-” Martin was stopped as he felt her hands reaching around his neck and touching his choker’s buckle. He froze in place out of fear, but after just some minor fumbling it was undone, and she yanked it off.

When he felt the accumulated sweat on his neck finally start to cool, and heard the infernal garment clatter the floor behind her, he took the deepest breath his gag would allow, and rolled his head around to all the places the spikes wouldn’t, working off roughly a week of soreness. In doing this though, he felt the necklace chain, and paused. A happy Fluttershy took this as an opportunity to reach for his shirt and began undoing his buttons.

“Huhherhy?” Martin asked, as if he really had to.

“Shhh,” Fluttershy soothed as she split his shirt portion by portion, her eyes getting bigger and bigger as each few inches of his smooth, athletic chest was revealed. “I umm, I guess I’ll… take care of everything?”

Maud Pie might as well have given a pep rally for all the confidence that inspired in him, especially as the last button on his orange flannel was undone and she pulled the sides apart, exposing his entire front. Although it was quite warm in the cottage, his chest felt a chill. And no sooner did he feel his dick was still flaccid inside the blue leather (two things he knew it wouldn’t be for long) than he felt eight pokes in his stomach and ribs, and all hell broke loose.

“Ahhhgh! Ahhhgh! Ehuuuhhh Huuuh huuuh! Auugh!” he screamed as her fingers danced over his bare stomach and ribs. He hadn’t been tickled in years, and it was only after his capture that his constant flesh-on-flesh experiences had made him wonder if his skin was still as pants pissingly sensetive.

“Mmmmph! Urgh! Huh huh hagh huuu!” he squirmed and twisted, trying desperately to pull himself from Fluttershy’s evil digits, but his bonds, despite their improvised nature, held his fast, and his chair was heavy and didn’t budge.

Fluttershy moved both her hands to his ribs, barely able to contain her happiness at seeing the recent object of her affections tied up in front of her, spasming like he had ants- well, she’d sworn off offensive animal idioms, but like a little boy at her light caresses. His every squeal which her gag muffled, and shake her restraints suppressed made her more proud of herself; she’d was supposed to by weak, kind to a fault, afraid of her own shadow, and yet here he was, her prize and soon to be boyfriend, all because she’d gone above and beyond the call of duty and done what needed to be done to protect him. She knew he probably didn’t see it that way yet, but-

“Eeeuuuuugh! Uh! Uh!” Martin blurred the line between laughing and choking, and Fluttershy briefly wondered if this would have been better for the both of them without the gag. Without sight, her ten fingers lightly stimulating his nerves felt like a thousand fingers tearing his flesh apart. It didn’t feel painful, it didn’t feel pleasurable, but it was fucking torture!

Without pausing, his pink-haired captor moved onto his neck. His “laughs”, if one can even call them that through the cleave-gag, became lighter and quicker as he didn’t even concentrate enough to breathe properly.

“Heuh heuh heuh”, he shifted tilted his head from side to side, frantically trying to protect his overly sensitive (he had the collar to blame for that) neck that she was strangling with her teasing, torturing fingers, but he knew it was no use. His lungs began to burn, and as he jerked his legs around as far as the ropes around his ankles would allow, he felt his bladder get that terrible “lightness” feeling.

“Haaapth! Haaaaapth!” he begged with the last of his oxygen, but at this point he wasn’t sure if there was anything out there but prancing, lacerating fingers.

“Aaawww, how can I?” Fluttershy cooed, removing one hand from the attack on his neck and kneeling down by his lap, allowing him to at least somewhat catch his breath. “You’re just like Spike, only cuter!”

“Spike? Isn’t that name important some-oh please no!” Martin thought as he felt her hand on his crotch. He jammed his chin down on her hand than remained on his neck, trying to kill two birds with one stone by looking down, but A. blindfolded, and B. she moved it to the back of his neck, and started tickling his two most sensitive regions at the same time.

This wasn’t the first time he’d cursed his mistresses and Rarity in particular for forbidding him from wearing underwear, but now his the leather his prick was constantly sandwiched against was making her tickling of his bulge and tip through his pants actually pleasurable. Not immensely so (he certainly knew immense by now), but maybe it was because it was so much more subtle than the claws slashing at his neck or his mistresses normal “shenanigans” that he felt the familiar feeling of his cock pushing against his pants and ring so quickly.

Fluttershy saw the mound in his pants gaining altitude, and bared her teeth a wide grin.

“See?! He’s enjoying this! There’s nothing wrong!” she told herself as she continued running her fingertips over his tip as it rose.

She’d already begun to neglect his neck, so when Martin’s stood at full height she pulled both of her hands away and stared at the inviting tent in front of her. Martin groaned and pumped his hips up once, trying futilely to both free his member, and give it release. Fluttershy had to stifle an uncharacteristic chuckle; he was just like an impatient animal begging for his breakfast. She really was born for this sort of thing.

“But wait-,” she thought as she reached for his fly, unsure what to do with it once it was out. “Food? That gives me- Oh my, I couldn’t possibly-”

Martin was busy catching his breath and once again rolling his neck around, trying to remove the phantom tickling sensation when he heard her abruptly stand up and walk away. Reorganizing his thought process, he tried to remember if he’d heard a doorbell or knock, but doubted it. And then he heard the faint sound of a refrigerador opening, and wondered if she was taking a break from molesting him to have lunch.

But after only enough time to grab one or two items, the fridge was closed again and she came walking back towards him. She stopped in front again, and knelt down by his crotch, him hearing what sounded like a glass bottle being placed on the wooden floor next to them. She’d proven herself full of surprises that day, and he wasn’t about to mumble out some more stupid questions, but he was quite possibly more curious than he was afraid.

Her hands touched his fly, and he offered no intentional resistance as she under his pants and pulled them down (pulling leather off a sitting person with an erection is as hard as it sounds).

Fluttershy gave a slight gasp as soon as he felt the air on his engorged and hypersensitive penis, probably at the sight of his ring. He considered asking her to take it off, but them he also heard her go “hmm”, and pick up the bottle. A few seconds later his heart nearly failed when he felt a cascade of cold, thick liquid pouring onto his crotch.

His heightened penal awareness made the cold oil all the more painful, and he shrieked and shook in his chair when he first felt it. Her pouring lasted about a second, but of course it felt much longer. He then and he heard a quiet *glug* sound, indicating half of whatever was in the bottle was now soaking his crotch. He thankfully had no real pubic hair for it to soak, but it pooled in his head, stickied his inner thighs and dripped down his balls, teasing him and then annoying him once the sticky droplets mixed with the chair fabric beneath him.

Like jumping into a cold pool, it only took him a few seconds to adjust, and after catching his breath again, he “looked” down at where he thought she was and tried his best to look angry with his eyes and mouth obscured, demanding an explanation.

Fluttershy gave one when she cleaned off his underside in one long, sensual, and judging by what she said next, tasty lick that stalled the chill-induced softening of his cock. Martin gasped and perked up in his chair, but as always, the pure pleasure was undeniable.

“Mmmm. Maple syrup,” she intentionally exaggerated to make clear the situation to him. “You’re such a sweet boy, Martin.”

The moment she said it, Martin could taste the sweet liquid in his mouth, and seemingly on his cock. Fluttershy pushed him down by the thighs, and went to work.

Her licks could be long, short, passionate, tasting, on his underside underside, balls, and even inner thighs, but every single one was like being slapped and he’d flinch and shift in the cushioned chair, now somewhat sticky chair. The sensation of being literally cleaned by her tongue was a new kind of erotic; a middle ground between the conceptuality of being breastfed and the physicality of being ridden. Their natural body heats combined and warmed the syrup, and his member regained its density quickly while his squirms turned into twitches in the wrong direction for convincing her he wasn’t enjoying this.

After a minute, she gave a final flick across his cockhead, giving him one final shiver and completely replacing the syrup with a thin layer of saliva. Then she looked up to him again, and licked her lips in an also exaggerated fashion, then stood up.

“See Martin,” she patted him on the head like a child. “We’re having so much fun.”

Martin responded by proving “ugh” sounds the same with or without a gag, but to his surprise the room was silent after he did.

Time crawled on by as his void was once again pure darkness broken only by the feeling of her spit drying out. He was hard, which meant the truly unfun part should be starting right about now, but judging by her breaths, she was just standing there. At first, he imagined proud grin on her face, but then he noticed her breathing was actually getting faster. His logic told him not to break the equilibrium, and that on the off chance anything was wrong it was good for him, but…

“Huhherhy?”

“Oh, sorry!” she jumped in surprise. “I’m just really knew at this.”

He “looked” (blindfolds are so confusing) up at her... confused. She took hold of the back of the chair to steady herself, then put one foot beside his leg on the chair, as if she was going to step up.

But then she stood there taking quick shallow breaths, like she was incredibly nervous.

“Performance anxiety,” Martin thought sardonically, but then the question of her virginity came up. Even his aloof ears had heard plenty of rumors about what the magical six did with each other, but what there any chance that they were just that, rumors? He felt a pang of sympathy as he remembered what forcefully losing his virginity (which was biologically meaningless to him) had felt like in the boiler room, and then a pang of anger when he realized just how destructive the Dazzlings were. Fairly soon, kind, beautiful, timid Fluttershy would be dead, her corpse twisted into a parody of its former self mirroring Adagio, Aria, and Sonata.

Finally, with a huff, “Fluttershy” stood up on the chair and immediately knelt down on her knees so his legs were trapped between hers. And then she spent a few more seconds looking down at his cock, before carefully reaching down and positioning it.

“Huherhy, hihm horry,” Martin said, unsure whether he would feel a hymen when he came in.

Fluttershy didn’t seem to understand him, and closed her eyes to drop all the way down, burying him hilt deep in her warm, sopping, vice tight pussy.

They both groaned at the sudden sensation, like heaven appearing between their legs in a millisecond. Martin also inadvertently got a face full of her t-shirt clad breasts, but they weren’t big enough for suffocation, yet.

It look Martin a second to notice he hadn’t broken through anything, but the feeling of being so deep in Fluttershy watered his eyes anyway.

Indeed, a dildo had long since taken Fluttershy’s maidenhood, and Big Mac her virginity, but it had been quite some time since she’d had warm meat inside her, and when she looked down at her boyfriend's blindfolded and gagged face, she felt a rush of power and lust, realizing she could do whatever she wanted with him.

With another huff, she used her knees to push up, moving up on his cock a few inches, and then dropped, burying him again. She gave another groan, feeling him slide into her again, even brushing against her clit. Martin was silent, but her snatch was so tight, it felt like it was competing against his cock ring, but so moist, it was utterly painless.

After pausing to take in what she’d just felt, Fluttershy went up and down again. And again. And again and soon she was bouncing up and down on him. Her moans became a hyperventilation, and her eyes rolled back in her head. Her breasts jiggled in his face, occasionally slapping him when she came down a certain way. Everytime she pushed up, she ached to drop back down, as her crotch just felt so empty without him inside. It had the comfortable size of her toys and the organic feeling of her other male lovers. He was long enough as to touch every corner of her, and when she really went down hard, he brushed against her cervix. She imagined to have him cum inside of her would feel incredible, but that would have to wait for now.

With the ring, she was building faster than he was. She looked down at him again, and saw that he was blushing with embarrassment.

“I *wheeze* love you Martin,” she assured him, then arched her back in a scream. She’d coated his crotch with syrup, and now she was doing it with honey. Although her was stuck all the way inside her, she had so much “kindness” to give it gushed out between her walls and his cock and poured all over his balls. In an even greater surprise, he felt his cock being tilted forwards until it hurt, and it took him a second to realize she was actually falling off the chair.

She made no attempt to catch herself, and leaned backwards pulling his penis to the brink of tearing, until it slid out of her and she fell on the floor with a loud thud.

Martin’s blindfold probably tasted salty by now, and it was getting harder to breath through his nose. He heard Fluttershy panting on the floor, meaning he hadn’t physically killed her, but he knew that after the first orgasm there was no stopping it. They’d keep going for an hour or so until she was so exhausted that she fell down and the ring stopped working on her- wait. Fuck. He remembered his orders, and realized he needed to capture her somehow to benefit his mistresses.

“Huhherhy?” he asked, wishing his arms were free so he could blow his nose.

“That was incredible, Martin.” she said in a half daze.

“Hih heehhy huth,” Martin agreed, trying not to make any judgements about her perceived stamina. He’d done this before, and knew how to string them along. “Here’th homhing hin-” he stopped, remembering how he’d gotten there. He had no ring in his pocket to tell her to put on as a token in her confused state.

“Umm, there’s something where Martin?” she asked, still lying in a pool of her own juices.

“Huh, Huhherhy? Herth humhing hi heed hu ha hu…” once the ring was on Rainbow Dash, she easily convinced Spitfire to let her call up and get another once, but she’d literally kidnapped him, and even in her confused state it be difficult to convince her to call the very people she’d kidnapped him from.

“Han hu hake hith hag hout?” he was getting tired of speaking this way.

“Aww,” she cooed, finally starting to get up. “But you’re so cute all trussed up like that. Tell you what? How about I go make us some tea while we get ready for round two?”

Martin’s gut response was one of anger, and he felt his orders start lose their importance again. But then he realized that he was also little thirsty, and his mistresses could probably wait.

Celestia, Luna, Rainbow Dash, Rarity and Spitfire all only ate normal foods for the taste now, because they fed primarily off lust and heartache, and it showed. Okay, not really, at least in the sense that seeing it one would associate the object with the concept, but they were becoming more energetic and youthful, among other things.

The original Dazzlings claimed they never really thought about it, but Celestia and Luna had hypothesized that with all the extra energy their bodies were getting, certain functions like milk production were kicking into overdrive, and after Martin gave all their ten collective restaurants five star reviews, Sonata posited that the same energy was being converted into edible form in their breasts, which was why Martin could sustain himself on it alone. Well, her actual words were “Hey, maybe some or our magic glowiness is working on Cutie Pie too”, but hey, substance over style.

Fortunately for their discretion, almost all women in Canterlot were reasonably big in the chest, and, and siren’s seemed to stop growing after a few days, so provided one wasn’t drinking from them or groping them, any noticed difference could be chalked up to imagination.

Aria definitely noticed though. Her shirt and jacket lay on the floor along with Celestia's, and the two gorgeous young women held each other’s sides as they ground their chests together and kissed.

The height difference between the two was negligible, and both could easily reach the other’s throat with their tongue. The sounds of their milk sloshing and squishing inside them sounded much louder than it really was, and every time one of their flesh-on-flesh scrapes rubbed the other’s nipple, they could feel it trying to get out.

The bedroom was dark and warm, and orgasm was readily in reach if Celestia wanted to shove Aria on to the bed or if Aria slipped her hands into the principal’s pants, but strangely there were no moans or gasps, and their tongues swirled and danced, but with all the passion of an autopsy. Eventually, Celestia pushed Aria back.

“I’m sorry Aria,” she apologized honestly, not wanting to anger the woman who’d showed her what real power and pleasure were. “But you’re just not Martin.”

In any other situation, Aria would’ve made Celestia eat her out all night long for such an insult, but for once she was sympathetic.

“I know, I know,” she removed her arms and stepped away. Then a look of anger came to her face. “Why the hell do we leave him alone with Adagio? She can’t even control her own emotions, much less Cutie Pie”

Celestia mentally acknowledged her mistake in referring to Martin incorrectly, but was worried as well. Martin Saylin, the person most critical to RAPE, and the person she knew full well she wouldn’t last two days without, had been missing all day. Never one to panic though, she’d calmly asked Rainbow Dash and Adagio what had happened over the phone, and later called up Sunset Shimmer to see if she’d seen him and/or she talked awkwardly and quickly like she had something to hide.

“Now, now, it’s only been a few hours, and we haven’t heard from Rainbow Dash to see if her lead is false. And even if he is with someone-”

“-He can’t say anything unless they’re female, yeah, I know how our own spell works, stupid,” Aria shot back, not wanting to be comforted. “But what if he’s with a boy and a girl? Or what if against all odds and transfixation magic he lost the necklace? Or what if he- he-”

Celestia was about to roll her eyes at Aria’s panicked ramblings, wondering why she thought these girls were best fit to rule the world, when the sound of a cell phone alert at full volume pierced the room. Both their hearts skipped a beat, and the turned their heads to Celestia’s discarded jacket.

They rushed over, and since Aria didn’t have a phone, she could only watch, finger’s crossed, as Celestia fumbled with the garment’s pocket for a second.

When she pulled the phone out, the first thing both of them saw was that it was from Rainbow Dash, just as they expected. Reading further, their spirits soared...

Found him. Rly was wit flutter shy at cabn. Gav hr ring. Check cute pie

...and seeing the picture, their panties moistened.

Somewhere around round three, Fluttershy remembered her brother’s halloween costume from two years ago, and how she’d thought it would look sexy on anyone else. The logistical issue of getting it on him while he was tied up was soon solved by Rainbow Dash’s arrival.

In the photo, Fluttershy stood, once again clothed, smiling over Martin with her hand on his head. Martin was in turn, on knees, his hands up to his chest like a, well…

The tip of his nose was black, and dark triangles had been painted on his cheekbones in imitation of whiskers. Black and orange cat ears sat atop his head, and similarly colored furry, pawed, thigh and shoulder high leggings and gloves covered his arms and legs. His chest was bare save the necklace, but a black and orange striped and tailed furry thong theoretically kept his modesty. A black cat collar was around his neck, the attached leash held by Fluttershy.

With an ear to ear grin, Celestia moved her thumb to reply, but the phone *ping*ed again, and there was another text.

P.S. Who thinks we should make Fluttershy his handler?

Outnumbered

Celestia wasn’t normally one to pace, least of all in her own office, but unlike the girl sitting in her cushioned blue chair (or, more accurately, sitting on the boy sitting in her cushioned blue chair), she was one to worry when things needed worrying.

After the school bell rang to signal the end of the day, the principal turned siren had texted Martin and Adagio come to her office. Normally she would’ve used the school intercom, but the reason for her new plan she wanted to discuss was that they were already attracting too much attention. She had hoped bringing Martin along might put Adagio in a more cooperative mood, but when they’d entered Adagio hadn’t even waited to hear what she had to say before walking around the desk, dropping her pants, bending over and telling Martin to do guess-what.

As the beautiful principal paced in front of her own desk though, she shot an evil glance at the two teenagers now fucking in her chair, both envious and annoyed. But all Martin would've seen if he opened his eyes was a forest of orange hair, and Adagio’s were closed in bliss as Cutie Pie idly groped her breasts under her shirt and bounced her up and down his dick with his leg.

“It’s still quite some time until the portal opens you know,” Celestia said loudly, crossing her arms. Adagio had already all but shut down her idea to speed things along, but Celestia wasn’t ready to let their plans fall to pieces just because Adagio got distracted by the sexy.

“So *huff* what?” Adagio replied, still lost in the comfortable feeling of a cock in her pussy and hands holding her breasts. “This is *mmm* pretty fun.”

Behind her, Martin silently disagreed, but only out of instinct, and continued to piston Adagio and softly squeeze her breasts, just like he’d been ordered to. He knew a certain poem concerning stick and stones which he’d tried to recite in his head every time he’d been called Cutie Pie or told he enjoyed what he was going through. And after, what? three weeks of being a willess sex slave to an ever growing pool of sirens, he’d started trying to become similarly detached even when they were talking about stick and stones. It was hard to put the terrible images out of his head every time they discussed his future, both near and far, but what did it matter who he was going to enthrall next, or how they’d conquer Equinstia, or whether he’d wear a dog-bondage suit or a flamingo one (three weeks of searching up sex toys will show you some very strange things)? It’s not like he could do anything about it!

“He’s a novelty!” Celestia shot back. She didn’t mean Cutie Pie was defective (she enjoyed being filled up by his sperm, and his emotions as much as the next siren), but unlike their leader she seemed to understand a good meal and fuck didn’t last forever. “Either we make him more powerful, or we need to start using our powers more effectively. If what you’ve said about your voices is true, sing during an assembly and we instantly have 400 minions and sources of food.”

Her attention grabbed, Adagio’s eyes shot open, and then narrowed. She kept her hands on the armrests of the chair and leaned forwards, the marvelous but still fairly new to her feeling of his cock inside her fading to the back of her mind as she finally addressed the apparent munity that had called her here head on.

“Okay, one: Novelty? What the hells that *ugh* supposed to mean? Cutie Pie’s the best *mmmm* damn fucktoy I’ve ever had!”

Celestia had no intention of explaining a simple word definition to a being supposedly millennia old, and Martin was almost thankful that his face was buried in Adagio’s massive mane, as it muffled their voices somewhat. He wished he could say he was at least enjoying the lead Dazzling’s tight, wet snatch and sizable melons, but he… well, he could, but it’d be like whenever he told an inquisitive classmate or teacher that he was going to study with the new girls, or that Rainbow Dash needed a jogging partner or Rarity a model. Outside of the process of recruitment, it didn’t matter what position was demanded of him or how hard he was ordered to thrust; all their sex felt totally passionless, and whatever pleasure he could get out of it was indistinguishable from the dehydration, sore body parts, and fatigue that came with it.

“Two,” Adagio continued. “Thanks for RAPE, but are you forgetting who’s in charge here? I am, and you don’t pull crap like making Aria enchant those extra necklace stones without my permission which I won’t give it because Cutie Pie has all the seductive power he needs! Giving him any more stones is just going to be overkill.”

Celestia had to agree with her that the single enchanted stone hanging around Martin’s neck certainly did its job well enough, because she’d talked with the other “puppets”, and they all agreed that 48 hours without taking a piece of Cutie Pie was unthinkable. But while tripling his power and causing every girl within 50 feet of him to cum in their pants the moment they saw him would certainly raise the eyebrows of any males in the room, there was no Equestria conquering without sirens, and there were no sirens without dazed and confused minds that would accept any changes a different enchanted rock forced on them.

“And three, for the billionth- *gasp*” The flame haired teenager bit her lip as Martin simultaneously scored direct hits on her nipple and clit with his finger and penis. The draw of orgasm appeared in her crotch, and he wasn’t pumping much faster, but she could feel his cock convulsing, fighting against the elastic for release. She squeezed the armrests will all her might and stared Celestia in the eye, determined to finish her tirade before she finished. “-time, I don’t want slaves or- what do you call them here? Cats? I want sirens! Sexy girls who are loyal to and think like me!” she shouted, not realizing that loyalty and Dazzlings are like malice and Fluttershy (well, pre-capture Fluttershy anyways).

Now ready to finish with Martin, her attention returned to their sex, and she leaned back and closed her eyes again as he voice trailed off.

“They can’t *ugh* prove anything *phew*. Cutie Pie’ll get them one… by… one… and- aaaaaahhh!” she gasped in surprise as Martin squeezed her massive mammaries tight under her bra, and she was flooded with warm sperm again. The feeling of being filled with hot seed again was all it took to send her over the edge too, and she countered his juices with her own. Martin stayed completely silent behind her, but she felt the need to moan loudly as their juices soaked their bare crotches.

While she watched the two teenagers further stain her office with their bodily fluids, Celestia thought back to Twilight Sparkle, the supposed current ruler of the world on the other side of the mirror, and wondered if maybe when they captured her, she should take over as lead siren.

Their bliss of orgasm lasted about fifteen seconds, afterwhich Adagio took a deep breath, and pushed herself off of Martin, his hands flopping out of her shirt and still hard and quite wet member slipping out of her until she stood up straight, leaving it to glisten in the brightly lit room despite the closed blinds.

Adagio sighed satisfied, stretching arms above her head, heedless of the human fluids dripping out of her and adding to the dark pool on the carpet from their first round. She looked over her shoulder at the source of the steady supply of delicious pleasure, pain, and despair she was tasting, and smiled at the sight of a cum-covered Cutie Pie and his defeated, dead eyed expression. She turned around and looked at the first captured siren smugly.

“Like I said, so what if we’re acting a little weird?” Martin heard her say as he slumped his head to the side in the chair. The smell of sex was almost comfortable in his nose now. He tried his best to tune out what they were saying and wait for an order. “Nobody can prove anything, and by the time-”

The sound of knuckles rapping on the door cut her off, and all three of them jumped in surprise.

The thought of possibly having been overheard brought Celestia and Adagio’s eyes to the door at lightspeed. The white pull-down blind covered the window on the door and concealed their visitor though.

“Principal Celestia?” they heard a deep but shrill voice call out. Adagio’s heart skipped another beat, the idea of being caught now seemingly very real to her. Celestia was of course more collected, now realizing that it was probably just a normal student call, but it took her a second to place the voice. Martin recognized it instantly though as the one had invited him Spitfire and Rainbow Dash over to the gym a few days ago.

“It’s Soarin and Mac. we don’t mean to be rude, but we really need to talk about, uh, getting… Mac’s family to... cater for our game!”

“Uh, eeyup,” a second voice confirmed. Adagio breathed a light sigh of relief.

“Alright, we’re almost finished in here. Just give Martin and Adagio a minute to wrap up and grab their coats,” Celestia yelled back, then turned her head to her sex slave and, paradoxically, mistress. Adagio and Martin both understood what they had to do, but while Adagio virtually dived for her backpack and pants, Martin was much slower to the punch.

Lying or sitting down on cushioned furniture of some sort in a pool of more than one person’s bodily fluids was the only place he felt, not comfortable, but at peace now. Everywhere else he was either getting fucked, waiting to get fucked, or walking through a sea of people he had to lie to. His lips were dry, his eyelids heavy, and softening cock aching, but he knew what he had to do, and slowly put his hands on the armrests and pushed himself up.

“-and just what do you do every time we send you on a mission?” Adagio ranted at Martin as they walked the darkened and by now empty hallways of CHS on the way to the front doors side by side. “Every time we send you out with one very simple job; have sex with a beautiful girl while wearing a spell that makes girls attracted to you, and put a ring on them while they’re horny. Even Sonata couldn’t screw that up, and yet it takes you four hours every single time.”

She didn’t even looking at him as she chastised his poor performance, but every human, pony and other siren was always fucking things up for Adagio Dazzle, and Cutie Pie was the only one who actually seemed to listen to her constructive criticism.

He wasn’t. He used to actually listen to the kind of shit horny girls of questionable sanity spat out and poked logical holes in it, but like everything else it was wearing him down. Currently, he found the feeling of his and her cum scraping around inside his leather pants every time he took a step, and the question of whether it made the garment less or more comfortable, far more engaging. One good thing about the extra sirens was that they’d pitched in for his quadrupled rent (well, technically not quadrupled. It goes up 1% times each person’s age for every person added, but only for the first few months. Afterwards it’s rounded out into a flat rate), but the various cleaning bills they racked up alone were more than twice his government issued allowance (well, more like 1.81 times. He’d had math last period that day).

“I’m sorry mistress Adagio,” he apologized absentmindedly.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” said mistress replied. Martin’s alertness returned and head turned up against his will as he realized what she’d said. Both of them kept facing and walking forwards, but past times Adagio had said that sprung to both of their minds, triggering a smile from the right side of the hall and a mental gulp from the left.

“Martin,” Adagio started to voice her fantasies again, paying no heed to the light squeaks of rubber on the floor behind them. “When we get home we’re going to-*WHAP*-UGH!”

“We’re going to ‘whap-ugh’?” Martin asked confused. When he turned around though, he barely had time to register seeing someone (Applejack) swing something (a baseball bat) upwards into a hunched over in pain Adagio’s face to some noise (wood cracking) before two blurs, one of pink and one vaguely orange and black came in front of him, grabbed his arms, and shoved him backwards into the walls with the force of a bullet train.

A metallic clang echoed throughout the hallway, and Martin gave an appropriate *oof!* as the air was forced from his lungs, and momentum proved the back of his head’s greatest enemy once again. He’d shut his eyes on impact, but he already knew who the blurs were.

“I’m only gonna say this once: What have you done to our friends!” Sunset Shimmer shouted to his right.

“Only once? But what if he doesn’t hear it? I know sometimes people need-” Pinkie Pie started.

“I heard you!” Martin said sternly, opening his eyes. Against (most) logic, his primary emotions were anger and annoyance. He saw Adagio on her hands and knees, and Applejack swing the bat into her head for a third time, finally crumpling her on the floor. He felt the magic-mandated need to help her, but knew she was tougher than she looked (the bat was visibly splintered in Applejack’s hand), and without even struggling he could tell that it would take more than even his impressive teenage bust to break Pinkie Pie and Sunset Shimmer’s surprisingly strong pins on his arms.

“Then answer the damn question!” Sunset growled, leaning in front of his face. “You meet with them,” she cocked her head back at the unconscious Adagio. “-put on one of their necklaces, and now every girl you meet with puts on one of those rings and starts acting weird and avoiding us! What the hell-”

“What Sunet means tuh say-!” Applejack cut her off as she approached him. “-is that if anythin’s funny with dem der stones they’re puttin’ on ya, ya’ll needa tell us raht about now!”

The cowgirl dropped the bat with an unpleasant clatter to show her sincerity. No sooner had she seen those three girls walking the hallways with their gaudy clothing and provocative swagger than she knew something wasn’t right with them. And although she and Martin didn’t share any classes, you didn’t need to be the supposed Element of Honesty to tell something was bothering him.

To add to the confusion, one day she’d seen him and the new girls walking around with Celestia and Luna. And then first Rarity, then Rainbow Dash came back from meetings with Martin wearing rings they said they’d ordered online, and started walking and talking increasingly different. They still talked to them in the lunchroom, but were always busy after school.

Pinkie Pie, Sunset and Fluttershy had verbally dismissed her suspicions, but Applejack knew they were worried too. Sunset had accepted Martin’s offer for a study session in the hopes of learning more about the now even more reclusive boy, but when he stood her up and Fluttershy came to lunch the next day with a sway in her walk and cutting someone in line, they knew they couldn’t risk standing by anymore.

“What’s wrong with the stones? Did the stones just hit a girl over the head with a baseball bat?!” Martin shot back. He didn’t talk very much these days, but whenever he had to to serve his mistresses best interests, his tongue seemed to craft lies all on it’s own.

Hearing his point, Sunset’s face softened, and she looked back around at her unconscious classmate. For a moment the girl on the floor had purple hair and wore a white shirt and purple skirt. This whole plan they’d concocted was painfully similar to the fantasies she’d had about Twilight during their three day bid for the crown. She then remembered that only half of them ended with Twilight face down on the floor; a quarter ended with Twilight sitting in her own Equestrian throne next to Princess Sunset Shimmer’s, and a quarter had her naked in a collar, lapping from dog bowl labeled “Twily” at the foot of Sunset’s.

But then Adagio Dazzle reappeared on the floor, and she remembered that these two people had hurt the Elements of Harmony, just like she used to. Angry again, she turned back to Martin, and reached past his shirt collar to pull out his necklace.

“Well in that case, you wouldn’t mind if we tore this suspiciously magical looking thing off, would you?”

“Really? I don’t think it looks very magical. But I guess you’re the expert,” Pinkie Pie’s commented.

Martin looked down at his necklace in Sunset’s hand and thought about her “threat”. The first few days, his arms had been itching to bend up behind his neck and unclip it or just yank it off. Everytime he was capturing a girl he got a taste of what if felt like to not have the burden of its commands weighing down on him, but he knew he wouldn’t be free until it was torn off, flushed down the toilet, and mailed to Antarctica. And as Ms Shimmer proceeded to prove when she tugged sharply on it…

“Ow!”

-and only succeeded in yanking his head forward painfully (his collar stopping it from digging into his spine), that wouldn’t happen until the “transfixtion magic” binding it around his neck was removed.

Convinced she hadn’t pulled hard enough, Sunset tried the same thing again expecting different results, and was proven insane.

“Will you cut that out?!” Martin said angrily. Now his neck and head hurt. The flame haired beauty let go of the stone reached around his neck to untangle it from the collar’s spikes and feel for a clasp. Since she had to shift in even further to do so, her hold on the boy’s right arm got even weaker, and looking to his right he figured he could probably break out if he wanted to.

“Stand back sugarcube,” he heard Applejack say though when Sunset’s search came up blank, and Martin was reminded that he was far from the strongest or, he looked to his left, fastest in the hallway. Trying to break free wouldn’t help.

The former demon moved back to holding his arm with both hands, and Applejack grabbed the cursed piece of jewelry on either side of the stone. Her face stern, she pulled outwards as hard as she could, stretching the chain and pulling the jewel up to her eye level. Her hands started to slip down the chain so she moved them back it, and pulled outwards hard again, the whip of the chain audible. But still, it wasn’t going anywhere.

“Okay, girls, if you’re done trying to rob me can I-” he paused. They seemed pretty dead set on getting it off, and they weren’t just going to let them go after beating their classmate into unconsciousness. His most logical move would be to enthrall them, but so long as there were three of them, the necklace was only going to focus on him.

“Ooh! Ooh! Let me try! I’ve always wanted to use these!”

All three of their heads swiveled over to Pinkie Pie, just in time to see her pull the Jaws Of Life out from behind her back.

Without a word, she slipped the giant claws around the upraised chain, and activated them. After a hissing noise, there was a disproportionately loud snapping noise, and Martin felt the severed necklace slide across his his neck then chest, and clatter to the floor.

In an instant, it was like his eyes had been opened to a massive revelation, everything he’d ever known was wrong. He had to help his mistresses: says who? He was obligated do what sirens said: Actually, no. It was like his mind could move three dimensionally again, and his whole body felt light as a feather; even lighter than it had been with Rainbow Dash and Spitfire. He took a massive breath right in the hallway, breathing of his own initiative, not because it suited anyone else, and looked his three liberators in the eyes all at once, a smile fighting to appear on his lips.

“Oh-oh my god, thank you! Thank you so much!” he said, speaking with true hope on his tongue for the first time in weeks.

“Wow! People aren’t usually this happy when I break their stuff,” Pinkie commented, holstering the three-foot contraption in her back pocket. All three girls were a little confused. Sunset had talked about different gem based enchantments, and removing the necklace that it started with seemed like a good place to begin, but him gasping like it had been a noose the moment it was taken off and pulling a total 180 by thanking them was still a little unexpected, since their main theory was actually that Martin Saylin had joined the Dazzling willingly.

Either way, smiles also appeared on Applejack and Sunset’s faces as they knew that whatever they were doing, they’d just done something seriously right.

“Okay. First, can you please let me go?” he asked panting.

“Heeeey, wait a sec,”

“Now jus hold on uh minut,’”

“Right, sorry,”

All three girls spoke at the same time, and Martin’s right arm was let free as Sunset took a step back. He then looked to his left annoyed, and Pinkie Pie sheepishly released his other one. Feeling his metal chilled and possibly bruised arms up and down, he stepped into the middle of the hallway to the right Adagio’s unconscious body, and started to explain.

“Okay. So, a couple weeks ago, when you sent me out to greet them,” he glared at Sunset, who held her arm and turned her head ashamed. “They told me they were gonna turn me into their sex slave.”

“Their sex slave!” All three gasped at once. Martin nearly rolled his eyes at their immature shock, but then had to consider for a moment how this all probably looked to an outside observer. Even if everyone and their grandmother had picked up on the sexual energy subtext nature of a handsome teenage boy going home everyday with various gorgeous teenage girls, the boy seemingly doing the same with the school principals would have thrown all but the most suspicious and depraved minds off the trail. The speed with which he changed his partners would have added to the confusion, and even without all that, demon girls could try to destroy a school and nobody would be prepared for someone to say they were a sex slave in its hallways.

“Yes, their sex slave. I know this sound crazy but it’s the least of our problems.”

“Ya mean them three little cunts’ve been ridin’ ya lak a pony all day everuh day’n-” Applejack paused. She was still processing not only the idea that a boy she’d walked past everyday had been getting raped in his spare time, but the guilt of having been angry at him for it. Now, like Sunset and Pinkie Pie’s faces showed they were doing to, she was connecting dots and realizing what this probably meant their principals and best friends had probably done with him when they were alone. It didn’t make sense; none of them would ever even conceive of using another human for their own satisfaction that way, and yes, they’d been acting differently, but the elements bearers had resisted mind control before, but they still knew it to be true.

Martin could see the heartache he was causing them, and thought back to how he’d look at them in the cafeteria and wonder if ignorance really was bliss. But they’d saved his life once before (well, a two thirds of the girls in front of him comprised a third of the group that had, but now wasn’t the time to split naturally pink hairs), he owed them the truth.

“Yes, they have. And I’m sent out to put rings on other-”

“Applejack! Pinkie! Sunset!”

Martin almost yelped at the sound of a voice behind him. He’d all but forgotten about the second siren still conscious in the building, and feared all the freedom he’s have by the end of the night was the selection of which of the three new sirens got to fuck him first. Fortunately, he placed the voice to the same face as last time, and the girls didn’t look afraid as they looked behind him, so he turned around slowly.

Big Macintosh and Soarin had come around the same corner that the girls presumably had, and walked up to them. Even with the necklace on the floor and hopefully soon to be dropped down the drain, the presence of boys in his immediate vicinity still gave Martin comfort.

“Mac?” Applejack asked her brother sounding annoyed, walking past Martin to greet him. “Did she kick ya outta her offis lak a lazy farm hand? We still need’a-”

But no sooner did Martin notice the glints of light both Mac’s red and Soarin’s blue shirts than there was a *swoosh*, and a *crack*, and a grunt, and a crumple as Applejack’s superhumanly muscular brother casually swung his fist across his sister’s face, and she fell to the floor in front of Martin.

“Oh fuck! Run!” Martin shouted, and spun around. He saw Sunset and Pinkie Pie had looks of utter shock on their faces, and suspected they wouldn’t be able to react in time, but chivalry and debts be damned, he wasn’t going back if he could help it.

He couldn’t. He made it only two steps (which was low even for his pathetic attempts to flee), and past his two remaining saviors before something grabbed his ankle. He stumbled forwards, but managed to catch himself on his other foot, and looked down to have his fears confirmed; A bloody nosed but smiling Adagio held his foot.

Seeing this, without even speaking Sunset Shimmer kicked the other orange haired girl in the side of the head in an attempt to free her new friend. Adagio grunted and her grip loosened, but after weeks of feeding off Martin it was like kicking a brick wall. Martin pulled his foot up and slammed it down on her head, and he felt that with another kick he’d be free, but the massive human shadow on the floor by now showed he was already out of time.

Big Macintosh’s massive arms wrapped around Sunset and Pinkie’s heads and yanked them backwards into his chest to muffled screams.

“No. No! This can’t be happening! Diabolus ex Machina!” his inner voice screamed as he watched the two girls struggle fruitlessly in the calm-faced giant’s grip, kicking their legs, clawing at his forearms, anything to let them breath again. Knowing there was no way he could save them from the brainwashed teenage farmer who had them pinned against his chest like plushies, he looked down the hallway again, determined to flee against all odds and magically enhanced siren-strength. He didn’t even get the chance to test Adagio’s grip because he heard Soarin shout, felt something round ram him back, and next thing he knew he was kissing the floor.

His head swam again, only this time the distinct warmth of having been hit (sounds strange when you say it out loud) covered his entire face. His head started to clear, and judging by the human weight on his back that was now shifting on top of him, Soarin had made use of whatever few football skills he’d picked up and tackled him.

Martin looked forward at his outstretched hands to consider how to use them, but did so just in time to see them snatched off the floor and pulled behind his back. Dual clicking sounds and the familiar feeling of metal and fluff followed.

Pinkie Pie was never one to elbow people in the stomach, but seeing the last of her allies cuffed she growled through Macintosh’s arm, and elbowed his stomach with all her might. When she did though, she was confused as to who’d hit who because her elbow hurt and he’d barely flinched. His only response was to hug them tighter and lean back slightly, and both his captives screamed in fear again as they felt their airways almost completely cut off and their kicking feet pulled an inch or two off the ground.

“Ugh” Applejack groaned clutching her forehead. “Anybahdy git the number’a dat truck that-” she looked down the hall and saw though clearing vision her friends struggling in the grasp of the two boys she’d sent to distract Celestia, and remembered why she was on the floor in the first place. She didn’t know what had gotten into them exactly, but people doing weird and out-of-character stuff seemed the name of the game now, and the mere sight of her friends in trouble, even if said trouble came from her family, ignited a fire in her only matched by Rainbow Dash in a similar situation. “Hey! ya’ll git yer-”

“Macintosh, if you sister resists, snap their necks.” Celestia’s calm but loud voice behind her froze Applejack halfway up off the floor.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Yes ma’am.” Soarin and Big Mac said in unison. Both Pie and Shimmer gave more muffled shrieks from behind Mac’s massive arms.

“Snaph my hecks! Hi heed hothes!” Pinkie Pie protested.

“Yes ma’am?! Yes fucking ma’am?! She tells you to kill us and you say yes ma’am?!” Martin’s inside voice shouted in disbelief. But then he considered the past few weeks again. The farmer and the athlete’s voices sounded identical to how they had been before, but that wasn’t possible because people wearing the necklaces sounded small and stilted and afraid, didn’t they? He turned his head on its side to look up at his tackler’s face, and it seemed perfectly normal, but also without joy. “Jesus Christ! Is this what I’m like with the necklace?”

“P-principal Celestia?” Applejack stuttered in disbelief, turning to face her teacher and friends as Celestia sauntered down the hallway towards them.

“She’s one of them!” Martin shouted on the floor in an attempt to warn the cowgirl, not noticing that the hand around his ankle was gone.

“Ugh,” Adagio clutched her head standing up. “‘Flyin’, or whatever the hell your name is, slam his head against the floor!”

Martin felt his hair grabbed and saw the floor sunk beneath, then rush up to him as he was shoved back down so hard he could taste the floor wax. He avoided a broken nose by a few degrees, but now the right side of his face felt ready to break and bleed.

“Nope, no way,” his inner voice answered its previous question.

Applejack stood up, her eyes darting between her friends struggling in her former allies arms, and Celestia, who was now within feet of her. She’d heard what both Martin and Celestia had said, but she was still conflicted on how to act. Run for help? Attack Mac? Hold Celestia hostage? Nothing she could think up satisfied her conscience or her logic. As always though, principal Celestia had the answer.

“Applejack, you did bring your lassos, didn’t you?” she asked in a soft tone. The cowgirl’s involuntary feeling of her pocket was all the answer she needed.

“Good,” she placed her hand on the scared girl’s shoulder, still mocking her student with the motherly attitude that had guided her for years. “Now, I want you to take two strands out,” she looked across the room at their three captive, who had all ceased their struggles. “-and tie you friends up.”

Applejack’s face tightened in anger and she opened her mouth to protest but:

“-And if you don’t…-”

“-Then we’ll see if these two little sluts follow orders better than Cutie Pie!” Adagio cut off Celestia’s cut off, looking back and forth between the two boys restraining their prisoners, and wondering if she really had been too hasty to pick a sex slave.

Applejack’s cheeks started burning, and not just from her brother’s strike. She took a step back, pulling herself out of her principal, or, at least, something that looked like her principal’s reach, and again shifted her eyes back and forth between her captive friends, who she could tie up, and Celestia, who she could attack or run past. The two coils of rope she often used as lassos felt far larger in her pocket now, but although she couldn’t see her friends undoubtedly terrified faces from her angle, she could imagine them sobbing and squirming beneath her as she used all her acquired rope knowledge on them for the sole purpose of restraining them for…

“Wh-What’re ya gonna do tah us?” she asked tearfully turning back to Celestia, even though the mere fact that she was asking it to her beloved principal was answer enough. Hearing the girl who was only unrestrained due to a lack of strong arms continue to stall and forget who was in charge here, Adagio stopped eyeing up Soarin’s ass and the bulge in Mac’s pants (which she certainly hoped wasn’t a lasso).

“Kill them!” she shouted.

Hearing the order was like being shot in the heart for the farmer and the soccer player, but the jewels Celestia had controlled them into putting on meant they’d never show it.

Big Macintosh’s massive arms squeezed Pinkie and Sunset’s heads even tighter, cutting off what ever shrieks they might’ve wanted to make, and ready to twist about to twist outwards.

Soarin pulled Martin up by the hair again, ready to bash him into the floor until he was the janitor’s problem.

It was less than a second before Applejack shouted “Wait!”, but all their lives flashed before their eyes. In hindsight, Sunset wished she’d never put anyone else in this position of near death, Pinkie wished she’d thrown the new girls a better welcoming party so that they’d never try anything like this, and Martin, well, he decided to list them alphabetically. Comes with being an orphaned sex slave.

“Whait!” Whait!” Applejack shouted, reaching and running for them. She then stopped right behind her brother, putting her hand on his shoulder and hanging her head. “Ahm-Ahm sorry. Ah-Ah’ll do it. Ah’ll truss’m up. Just please let mah bruther an’ the boys go.”

“You’re in no position to be making demands, Applesnatch,” Adagio taunted, walking over to join Celestia. “Now bind! Big Cock-!” she pointed to Macintosh. Another spark of anger appeared in Applejack hearing her brother addressed as such, but she held it in. “-Let Sunset go.”

Gasping for breath Sunset Shimmer fell to her knees in front of Macintosh. Applejack rushed around her brother to kneel down next to her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Ahm so sarry sugarcube,” she apologized sincerely.

“No *cough* it’s okay,” Sunset wheezed out, then to Applejack’s further shame, slowly brought her wrists behind her back. “Just don’t let them hurt Pinkie or Martin.”

“-or Mac or Soarin,” Applejack thought as she looked up at her brother to see what kind of facial expression losing one’s free will and identity evoked. Above the neckline, he looked completley normal. Stern, somewhat determined, but he might as well have been stacking boxes for all it told her. In her mind, this was far worse than seeing shit-your-pants horror on her brother’s face, because at least then she could empathize with him. “Mah god Mac, ahm so sarry I brot ya inta this. Ah promise you ya won’t be no sex slave.” Her eyes shut tight for a second in supressed rage before she returned to tying up Sunset. “Promise.”

Behind Big Mac’s adjusted-for-single-occupancy grip, Pinkie Pie cry-smiled at the display of sisterly affection. Under Soarin grip though, which now had his head back on the floor facing away from all the drama, and past the sounds of rope’s being tightened, Martin heard Adagio’s boots clopping back over to them, and then the sound of a small chain clinking, and his eyes went wide and bladder weakened.

“Hmm, looks like our transfixtion magic needs a little work,” Adagio commented, picking up Martin’s discarded necklace.

“Transfixa-what now?” Applejack looked at Adagio after she tightened the last knot around her friends wrists. “Ah think that if we’re all bein’ kidunapped we dehserve more uva-”

“No!” she was interrupted, strangely not by either siren, but by Martin, who wasn’t ready for the spell again. His will to fight renewed, he struggled and thrashed in Soarin’s grip, shaking his hands, kicking his legs, he had to get away. Despite the cuffs, Soarin was forced to grab his wrists with both hands to hold him in place, but he shook his freed head violently, and pulled his arms up and down, desperately trying to dislodge his captor grip.

Nonplussed, Adagio calming walked about to the writhing, squirming boy with the broken-chained necklace. Applejack, Sunset and Pinkie could only look on in shock as she trotted to the other side of him and knelt down.

“You evil fucking rapist cunt!”

“Martin,” she said calmly, although talking to him while he wasn’t guaranteed to obey her felt a little strange after so long.

“Go to hell!”

“Martin!” she shouted, grabbing him by the hair (at this rate he’d be bald pretty soon), stilling his shaking head. “I could easily put this in your hand and order you to swallow this.”

Martin’s whole body was instantly still, and Adagio’s evil smirk returned.

“But I haven’t had any good practice in weeks. ♫Aaaaahhhh♫♫Aaaaaahhhhhh♫”

The second the magical tune reached his ears, Martin’s eye’s became dead, and all his fear and anger dissipated as his consciousness was cleared out to make room for the Dazzling’s will.

“♫Aaaaahhhh♫♫Aaaaaahhhhhh♫”

The entire hallway, including Celestia, Soarin, and Big Mac looked on in utter bewilderment. Celestia had at least been told of a true siren’s powers, but even though she could already mind control people with her own ring, the idea of completely controlling someone’s emotions and will with musical notes still needed to be seen/heard to be believed.

“♫Aaaaahhhh♫♫Aaaaaahhhhhh!♫” the lead siren wrapped up her order of compliance with a side of happiness by looking up at Applejack, Sunset and Pinkie, and still saw only their shocked faces. “Hmmm. You were right. Immune.” she said to Celestia without looking away.

“Immune to what? You’re singing? I don’t think so. You may be evil but that was actually -mmph!” Macintosh had apparently realized shutting Pinkie up was in his new mistress’s best interests, and clamped her throat again.

“Well, anyways,” Adagio continued, standing back up. “Flyin’, get off of him.”

Soarin obediently stood up off Martin, who continued to lie on the floor in his cuffs.

“♫Aaahhhh♫Aaaaahhhh♫” Adagio hummed another tune, and Martin slowly got back onto his knees, and stood up to face Adagio. The green glow in his eyes brought a smile to Adagio’s face, and she reached up to hold his chin.

“♫turn around♫” she hummed deliberately so that the others could understand.

Martin complied. The three magical students more or less knew to expect some sort of mind control at this point, but when they saw his smile, they all jumped back, since the expression was absent on Soarin or Big Mac’s faces.

♫What’s your name?♫” Adagio sung-asked, stepping around him to stare the three head on. She was fully confident the emotions and specific answers she was singing into his cute little head would demonstrate her power.

“Cutie Pie.”

“♫What are you?♫

“Your fucktoy.”

The girls all grimaced.

“Celestia,” Adagio took a break from vocals to turn to her companion. “Do you have the key?”

Before she could answer, Soarin started digging through his pockets, and pulled out the handcuff key. Taking it, Adagio was reminded of the benefits of enchantment’s more general control. Nevertheless, she turned back to Martin.

♫And if I set you free, will you put these on Applesnatch after she’s done tying the other’s up?♫ She almost cringed, since using her powers for extended commands without rhyming was quite uncomfortable. Fortunately for her though, both Applejack and the partially resurrected Cutie Pie seemed to get the message.

“Hell yeah.” Martin replied, high on the pleasure doing what he was doing was giving him.

Before she returned to tying up Sunset, who reluctantly lay down on her stomach for her feet to be bound, Applejack looked at her principal, who she now realized wasn’t in her right mind,

“Celestia,”

And then her brother,

“*gulp* Mac,”

And then two people she sort of knew,

“Soarin, Martin, ah promise we’re gonna help ya’ll.”

“Tut, tut, Applesnatch,” Celestia criticised her student, proving her point. “Part of being honest is not making promises you can’t keep.”

“What about him?” inquired Aria, pointing to the square inch photo in the yearbook denoting Thunderlane.

“‘Maybe’ does not end the conversation, Aria dear,” said Rarity, flipping the page back to last years sophomores to point to Bulk Biceps’ picture. “Selecting any item to make an investment of time and resources, be it dress, sofa, or *sigh at the uncouth term* sex slave, requires an in depth discussion.”

“Pfff, sounds boring,” puffed Rainbow Dash, standing up and looking out the barn back doors. “We got the touch, we got the power, just slap a necklace on every sexy one around 18 and take your pick later!”

The total of nine sirens on the Rarity-mandated picnic blanket in the Sweet Apple Barn all had their own thoughts about the new development of “Resource Management”, “Analysis”, “Planning” and “Execution” that Celestia had envisioned, and Sunset, Pinkie, and Applejack’s rescue attempt had secured the implementation of.

A soft smile hadn’t left Celestia’s lips since the jewels had gone on Soarin and Macintosh; she was so proud of herself. They’d entered her office, and she’d decided to act heedless what Adagio thought. Pretty soon all the brats she and her sister had to put on a show for even after they’d been freed from their boring old selves would either be zombies, allies, or their fucktoys, and Adagio could have all the sex she wanted while Celestia gorged herself on the power she only sampled everyday with Martin.

Aria was proud of herself too. Since she’d enchanted the necklaces that had made tied up Applejack, Pinkie, and Sunset horny until they begged to be let free just so they could fuck the boys tied up in front of them, every time she looked at one of the boys’ bound, gagged, toned bodies she saw the necklaces (their only clothing article now) as a symbol of her ownership and awesomeness.

Luna couldn’t stop smiling either, because the whole situation was funny. The three boys, still shackled in their jewelry but minds temporarily cleared by their mistresses lusts would disagree, but that very morning Luna had discussed how Cutie Pie’s cuteness is disproportionate to his sustenance with Spitfire and Rainbow Dash. To get a text with instructions to go to Sweet Apple Acres and pictures of mind controlled Soarin and Big Macintosh the last three girls they needed to take before they felt comfortable enslaving the rest of Canterlot over their shoulders in cuffs or rope was a joke Luna found in very good taste.

Spitfire was feeling very optimistic about what had texted her to come to Sweet Apple Acres. Since she’d been captured she’d felt like a fifth wheel for the first time in her life. She barely got any time with Martin, and was never consulted about anything despite being far more experienced in leadership than Dash or Fluttershy. Granted, a soccer team is a bit different than a group of mind controlled sirens bent on world domination, but she knew she was an accident for the second time in her life, and couldn’t wait until there was a little more cock to go around.

Fluttershy was… happy, she guessed. Happy that she and her friends were together again, and that she didn’t have to be afraid of anything, particularly “talking” to boys. Still though, she felt like she was losing something. Not her personality, the first thing she’d done after putting on her ring (besides dressing Martin as a cat and fucking him of course) was calling up the shelter and telling them she’d be busy for the foreseeable future. But there was a level of intimacy and security she felt when she was either alone with Martin (she never called him Cutie Pie) or with him and her new friends that she felt would be lost if every other attractive boy in school was like him.

Sonata had to agree. Cutie Pie was the best boyfriend she’d ever had, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to put him at the mercy of an entire school of people she wouldn’t get anytime to know. Still though, the red and the blue one’s moans were sexy.

Rarity was quite satisfied with how things were turning out. Just like the feeling she got when a satisfied customer left her boutique, seeing her friends embrace sirenhood the way she had brought pride and joy to her heart, and she’d be happy when all of Canterlot had the same gift as either her or Martin. The only hang up for her, as she was reminded when Applebloom and Granny Smith had to be mind controlled and told to wait in the house, was that not all of Canterlot would get that gift. Children would have to wait their turn, and the elderly, well… you can’t please everyone.

And Ms Dazzle herself was in a strange position. Shortly after seeing that spectacular light show outside the cafe, she and her sisters had discussed their plan to harness the Equestrian magic, and the key point she’d stressed was subtlety: whatever had caused that, it was far more powerful than they were, and they couldn’t take it head on at least until they secured a steady supply of food. The creation of an inside agent to serve both purposes (and a few others) was the logical conclusion, but even before she was so rudely interrupted by the aforementioned rescue attempt, she’d realized that they’d gotten too caught up in the means and forgotten the end. Alone Cutie Pie was insufficient, and recruiting in both the male and female categories was necessary. Even as their three greatest threats (currently on earth) raped boys around her though, she felt cheated in her victory, and her contempt for not just Celestia, but Luna for always agreeing with her, Aria for making enchanting the necklaces and all the rest for thanking Celestia instead of her, grew with every moan she heard.

Speaking of which, outside the tree Macintosh Apple, codename: Applecock, was tied to shook hard enough for a few of its apples to drop as his second climax took him.

Rope after rope of semen shot from his footlong member and into Sunset Shimmer’s mouth, but despite her past experience she only managed to swallow two mouthfuls of the salty goo before she started to choke, and pulled her mouth away.

“*Cough* *Hack*” she spit out the excess cum still holding his cock in her hand. Sperm still dripped from Macintosh’s tip, but she cut off the flow with a tight squeeze of her hand and looked up at him angrily. “Not cool, Macintosh.”

The muscle-bound hunk did feel bad for doing what she’d just spent the last several minutes “coaxing” him into doing, but while she choked on his cum he was choking on the lump in his throat. He’d guilted his sister into letting him help when they both knew he’d only get in the way. And because of his selfishness he Soarin had been shown Celestia’s ring, which made him feel like it was a good idea to put on the necklaces she was handing them, which in turn made them feel like it was a good idea to serve and obey women that met certain qualifications.

Since then, in short order, he’d told the woman he was sent to distract what was going on, punched his little sister in the face, nearly killed the happiest and the most remorseful two girls in the world just because he was told to, gone home, stripped naked in front of twelve girls, and allowed himself to be tied to the tree. And only when Sunset was brought in front of him and started eyeing him up and licking her lips did he start to realize this wasn’t a normal Wednesday.

“Awww, don’t cry,” Sunset cooed, standing up and putting her hand on his cheek. “You know, back when I was evil, I always thought I might do this to you once I ruled Equestria and Earth. “

Sunset’s words stung the young farmer’s heart, not because of her total lack of self awareness, but because of how it was like every time a girl stared at his ass or grabbed his crotch times a million. And her assault on his humanity didn’t relent.

“You’ll never have to farm, or do homework, or worry. All you’ll need to do is cum in me every day!”

“Mmmmph!” Big Mac screamed through his own underwear, which was held in his mouth by a cleave gag. He couldn't be her sex slave! He couldn't abandon his home and his work! Could he?

He did just cum in her mouth after all.

“Mmmmmmph!” he screamed even louder as the same guilt and self doubt that Martin originally felt hit him, but his scream became a gasp when her hand gripped his shaft tight again, and she kissed him on his gag.

She started to stroke him off, the remaining saliva serving as lube. Despite himself, Mac’s eyes rolled back in his head at the feeling of her soft but firm hand, and since kissing around his gag was actually quite awkward, she resolved to attacking his now vulnerable neck with licks and kisses. A fire built in both of their crotches, and a new set of moans wafted over to the barn.

-Inside of which, up on the loft, Soarin, now simply called “Pet”, wasn’t doing much better.

“Sproing! Sproing! Sproing! Sproing!” Pinkie Pie verbalized her bounces.

“Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!” moaned Soarin. Spitfire and Rainbow Dash had correctly presumed he wouldn’t need a gag, and had simply gotten him naked and tied his arms to his sides and legs together.

“You know Dashie said you were like putty, but you really don’t feel like putty. You actually feel pretty hard in me. Thanks,” Pinkie speed talked while she rode him.

“Neeugh! Soarin’s scream of pleasure echoed in the barn when Pinkie’s raining wet tightness swallowed him up to her cervix again, and his tip was stimulated again.

“Hmm,” the party girl put her finger to her chin in contemplation, but without breaking her rhythm on his cock. “I’m fluent in mouthful-of-cupcakes speak, but my sexy-moans is a little rusty. Ummm… mmmmm, hugh,” she replied, trying to convey that she liked the pace they were going at, but fudging the tenses and accidently saying she enjoyed the pace they’d gone at very recently.

“I knew you weren’t a virgin, but did you hear what Spitfire said? That you melt the moment anyone touches your penis? I guess everyone melts to something. For me it’s cupcakes. Hey! How about when-”

“Gaaaaah!” Pinkie had gotten distracted (big shocker) and forgotten to focus on how hard the soccer player was panting and even thrusting back a little beneath her. Before she knew it, he screamed for a final time and exploded inside her.

“Oh! Right! Uuuuuh!” Pinkie remembered, and squeezed her breasts to cum with him (like every part of her body, her orgasms were hers to command). For almost a full minute both their eyes were in the back of their heads and their tongue hung out. The whole world seemed to spin around Soarin as he became lost in the pleasure hitting his own body. He wasn’t guilty for having cum in this poor girl, but he currently lacked the mental capacity to be happy either. Ms Pie had a veritable waterfall between her legs which nearly drowned out the sizable amount of cum he shot into her, but she knew it was the thought that counted.

By the time both of them came down, the sexy teenage boy’s entire crotch shined with honey, but he in turn had been firing dry for several seconds. Pinkie Pie sighed and let go of her now sore breasts to look down at his catatonically happy face.

“Wow! I thought only my Uber Sweety Sugar Grenades could do that to people,” she commented “Whelp, round two! Sproing! Sproing!”

While Pinkie and Soarin shook the roof above them, downstairs Applejack paced behind her captive.

On the way in, before he’d stopped thinking what Adagio wanted and Applejack started thinking what his new bracelet wanted, Martin had seen both Soarin and Big Mac get tied up with Pinkie Pie and Sunset set down in front of them, and thought to himself:

“I’m so happy and want to obey Adagio!”

… Because that’s what Adagio wanted him to think. But if she wasn’t singing a tune every minute or so, he’d probably have thought that whatever bondage position they were going to put him in it couldn’t be worse than getting spread-eagle tied to a bed again… right up until he and his soon-to-be rapist were led into the enclosed stables, and both their opinions of horses, particularly anthropomorphic ones, soured greatly.

While Applejack’s ankles were tied, and she was set gently on the floor, his hands were roughly bound behind his back and the ends or the rope were run through the ceiling rafters. The smallest horse bit they could find was fastened painfully around his head and he was bent over and clipped into the waist high bar along the wall. After the leg spreader Fluttershy’s advanced planning had purchased and brought with her to the meeting was put between his legs, he was in the most compromising position in his life, and felt true embarrassment again for the first time in weeks.

After his recovered necklace was wrapped around his right and every horrible obligation and lust spell returned to him, Applejack started burying her head in the hay literally and sand figuratively, yelling to the siren’s outside that she’d never hurt any innocent boy, no matter… how sexy he looked… all naked and gift wrapped… *mouth starts to water*.

Simply by taking over five minutes to rape him, the farm girl earned more respect from Martin than she had when she’d saved the world. For several minutes he was free without being fucked due to her absorbing all the magic and telling it to get stuffed. Alas, first Pinkie Pie started shuffling around on the loft, trying to mount Soarin while she was still fully clothed and hogtied. Then Sunset started begging and pleading, saying she’d do anything they wanted if they’d only let her and Big Mac… whatever self restraint she had left stopped her from finishing that sentence, but Martin learned at least four new swear words from Applejack then.

And then it was their turn. Applejack cursed, and banged her head on the floor and tugged on her bound wrists and ankles until the ropes and chains were stretched like elastic, but her struggles gradually came to involve more and more rubbing of her crotch on the floor. To spare Applejack’s pride, Rainbow Dash was merciful enough to simply toss the handcuff key through the door and let the bracelet deliver it’s finishing touches while Applejack desperately unbound herself for all the wrong reasons. She probably thought he was surprised that she didn’t immediately rush over to untie him, but he was actually more shocked by how she was still eyeing him up.

“Cutie Pah, huh?” she finally said, giving Martin a little start. He was strangely glad that she’d started talking, because now he could focus on something else besides his aching back, sore arms, weak knees and burning wrists.

“S’pose it works. Y’are quite the dumplin’,” she pinched his upraised butt, causing him to shudder in a way that was painful to many points on his body, but particular his mouth, where the cold metal bar dug into his gums and threatened to chip his teeth.

The cowgirl smiled at his squirming that she for some reason found adorable, and began groping his entire ass. She ran her fingers over every inch of his flesh, taking extra care to run her thumbs along the inside of his asscrack, and giving him a tight squeeze every time she got a good grip. Her fingers were cold at first, but to his resentment they started to warm up just from fondling him. His limp member twitched underneath him, but the sheer physical and emotional pain he felt meant Applejack would have to try harder to get him hard.

“But aneh farmer past more’n two winners cn’tell yuh the name’a the stallyun don’t mean much widout’a decint rider n’ caretaker.”

“For the love of god please just rape me already,” Martin thought, shutting his eyes and preparing for the worst. “You’re not Applejack anymore, you’re a sex crazed monster, so please just get it over with!”

Content on taking her time though, the girl knelt down behind him.

“And ah promise ya, none’a these girls, cept maybe Rarity, has shownya uh real womun.”

Her voice felt strange brushing against his butt, but then the warm, wet, bumpy snake that licked from the bottom to his scrotum up to his anus felt much stranger.

“Aaumph!” he screamed and shook as if this was his first time being touched in such a way. Feeling completely free again, if only for a few minutes, may actually have done him more harm than good in terms of his resilience.

Feeling his tight ass shake in her hands and seeing his cock sway made Applejack smile again, and she continued.

“Fer one, Ah’d put that sexeh body’a yours tuh good use… ”

*Lick*

“Aaaamph! *spasm*”

“Tie yuh tuh a tree, gag ya wid’an apple, fuck ya so the other cum down.”

*Lick*

“Eeeeph! *spasm*”

“Prize poneh in mah stable; break ya in ‘n ride ya when ahm bored. *lick*”

“Aagh! *spasm*”

“Brand yuh nice’n good,”

She ran two fingers over a certain point on his right ass cheek.

“-then have ya earn yer keep on the milkers. Have yer seed wid mah cereal everuh mornin’. *lick*”

“Nnnnnn! *spasm*”

By now his entire crevice was dripping with saliva, but he could also feel himself getting harder and harder between the legs. His previous mistresses had done tons of fantasizing, but there was something about the Element of Honesty’s confident tone that made her’s seem the realest and therefore scariest.

“And uh corse, ya ever step outta line, the next thing yull be plesurin’ll be an actual stallyun.”

Martin’s eyes burst open in terror at her mention of beastiality as his punishment, not because he was afraid he’d misbehave as her sex slave (he literally couldn’t), but because it was a line even the original Dazzlings had never spoken of crossing (or more specifically, making him cross), and the girl who just minutes earlier had been adamantly insisting she would never hurt him just crossed it. This was something he couldn’t tune out.

“Ah maht make’ya suck ‘im off, ah maht have ‘im take ya up the ass… say…”

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, please leave it alone” Martin thought, anticipating her next five words.

“-that gives me an ideuh.”

His eyes squeezed tight again and his reality shattered the moment he felt her squeeze his ass for balance. Her thin, slippery tongue slid past his already lubed sphincter easily, but to him it was like being split into not even by a tree trunk.

In her lusts, Applejack had forgotten about the existence of shit along with morality, but was pleased to find that the inside of his ass actually tasted quite good, and gave an appropriate moan. Martin refrained from screaming, but only because he was in more pain than he’d ever been in his life. He’d been forced to kiss and be kissed, forced to be ridden, forced to give and recive oral sex, forced to just-about-everything but his anus had never been of interest to his mistresses, and with their tongues, nipples or clits going into his mouth he could at least pretend he could close it if he wanted to. When Applejack’s tongue slid into his butt, he truly lost everything, and the world came undone. That didn’t stop him from enjoying it though.

Her tongue was as big as the barn they were in and reached to every corner of his body. When she started wiggling it he thought it’d be like being shaken by a shark that’s just bitten you, but though his mire of imagined sensations all he actually felt was a strange sexual pleasure moving around inside him. His penis didn’t feel like it was being stimulated, but somehow every lick and push oh his inner walls sent stimulation through to his cock that almost felt artificial.

To confuse him further, Applejack suddenly sucked her tongue out again.

“Mmm, mmmm! That’s one fahn apple fritter ya got up dere, Martin,” she complimented, before shoving back in.

Martin gave another moan as her wet appendage entered, but this time a purely pleasurable one. Now far more confident in her abilities, the cowgirl dug into her apple fritter vigorously but methodically, alternating between thrusting her tongue in and out and dancing it around inside. Every entrance into his ass and every swirl around his inner walls elicited a happy moan from the bound teenager; after being taken up the ass destroyed his rational thought, the pleasure it was giving him was all he could currently comprehend.

Strangely, his cock never got as hard as it could get due to how fake and rushed his enjoyment felt, but that meant his ring had little say in the matter or his orgasm. His moans became louder and spasms in his restraints more prominent, and Applejack knew she could make him cum all over the floor with just a few more twirls. She pulled her tongue out and gave his crack a final lick.

“*phew* Yora real anal slut, aintcha?

Martin gave a grunt, but she wasn’t sure whether it was in agreement, or frustration at her stopping.

“I guess sum ‘lone tahm with a stallyun ain’t much punishment forya, is it?”

Martin groaned again, louder.

“Ya know, if these girls’re plannin on takin over this world’n Twahlaght’s, not quaht sure if ah should help, ‘r just keep ya round the farm, be Applebloom’s playmate fer when-”

Martin grunted loudest, and she frowned.

“Ah, alright, ya big crah baby,” she resigned, and buried her index finger knuckle deep in his ass in a millisecond.

At the exact same time, Pinkie Pie and Sunset brought their boy toys to climax as well, and a massive collective moan signalled the beginning of the end for CHS.

School Still Sucks

Walking the hallways of Canterlot High School used to be what kept Martin going no matter how strapped for cash or how buried in work he got. Now, it was like walking through a neverending hospital room, where everyone had Creutzfeldt-Jakob’s which he’d given them.

In terms of actually sentient thinkers occupying it, CHS became an all-girls school four or five weeks after Adagio Dazzle, Aria Blaze and Sonata Dusk enrolled. Of course, Rainbow Dash had pointed out that by that logic Crystal Prep was a nobody-school, but thanks to the efforts of Cutie Pie, Applecock, Pet, and a few other teenage boys deemed sexy enough to wear the enchanted necklaces, 85% of CHS students and faculty were mind-controlled zombies that only ate, slept, and conversed enough to ward off suspicion from their parents or the rest of the town. 15%, were, well, what Martin turned right in the hallway and opened the door into a roomful of.

He refrained from looking to the left, not wanting to address them until he had to, and looked straight ahead to Cheerilee, his teaching assistant, sitting her desk. These kind of choices; to spend a few extra seconds looking at only one person he’d effectively fucked to death instead of ten, were the only kind he could make. Had he known that his encounter with Carrot Top would be the last foreseeable time he wouldn’t walk into a volcano if he was ordered to, he would’ve… well, he was pinned down with a bloody nose by the time he got his free will back (who’d have known that Kung Fu was her second favourite hobby), but he still wished he’d known.

And now, day in and day out, everything felt empty. It wasn’t that he had no free will, he was more or less used to it at this point, and the moments when he got it back weren’t exactly picnics, but aside from feeling disparate and worthless all the time, he was actually bored. At least before, he could dread something in his next mission, and he could feel guilty every time he looked at someone who wasn’t yet involved in the plan, and his regular classes and schoolwork served as minor distractions. Now, all he ~~could do~~ did was fuck, think up new ways to fuck, and fuck, and despite many of the siren’s impressive attempts to spice things up, days and weeks faded into each other, and not even talk of the mirror opening and the end of the world as he knew it could slow things down for him.

It probably would've been a lot better if he could actually talk to the other male fucktoys. Despite their similar predicaments, speaking to each other in any meaningful way apparently never suited the extended Dazzling family. Martin just wished he could complain to Thunderlane about how much the bindings his class had used hurt or discuss the pro’s and con’s of each siren with Braeburn, because he felt like it’s do wonders for both of them.

When Cheerilee turned her head away from her computer and looked at him with the same calm smile she gave him on his first day at CHS, he was reminded Big Mac, which made him think of the other boys and how they were handling this. His first few weeks, he’d been guilty for what he was doing. He was helping demon girls mindfuck and curse the women he’d looked up to and turn anyone else they didn’t deem attractive enough to help them into a mindless zombie with the endgame of taking over the world, so it seemed like a pretty logical emotion. But while he’d had weeks to get used to it, and had done more than a few questionable things before he’d moved to Canterlot, he had no idea what this all was doing to the boys who’d grown up in this squeaking clean town. He had to admit though, he could barely stand his own whining, and wasn’t sure if he could put up with it from six other boys who were far more sentimental.

Neither him nor Cheerilee had to say anything to start the proceedings. They both knew their places, so while he strolled up behind her desk and she nonchalantly stood up from her chair and walked over to the chalkboard where she could observe the humiliation he was about to endure, Martin mentally braced himself for it, and turned to face his class.

He knew the names and bodies of every single smiling face in front of him, but with all their different colors schemes it still took his eyes a moment to adjust when he looked at them all at once. Much to Cheerilee's jealousy, their attentiveness had increased drastically since he’d started teaching; all the side conversations stopped and all ten sirens sat up in their desks waiting intently for him to speak the moment he turned to face them.

“Last time, we finished out tours of the school grounds, finding out which places were the best for raping me in terms of darkness, warmth, and applicability,” Martin spoke in accordance to the lesson plan he and Cheerilee had thrown together the night before via email. Of course, she would’ve preferred to have done it in siren, but Celestia said that only the Dazzlings and their lieutenants could have special access to the slaves, and Adagio had agreed, if only because Luna had pretended it was her idea.

“Classrooms are the best!” Bon Bon proudly shouted the previous day’s conclusion, which brought a round of murmurs and laughs from the audience. Ignoring the question of whether or not Bon Bon actually understood that they getting weren’t participation grades anymore, and forcing a smile, Martin used the brief pause he was being allowed to once again idly scan the room of faces.

“Lyra, Bon Bon, Carrot Top, Fleetfoot, Spitfire, Roseluck, Cloudkicker, Derpy, Minuette, Octavia, and Photo Finish,” he recited in his head. “Yep. They’re all still evil. They still can’t bear the thought of three whole days without fucking me raw. I still did this to them singlecockedly, and I still can’t wrap my head around this although we’re already had… several classes.”

“Yes, and today we’ll also be dealing with locations,” he continued. “But this time, keeping me somewhere.”

It took a few seconds for the students to realize what he meant, but one by own they quieted and looked forward, waiting for him to explain bondage to them.

Both Martin and Cheerilee were taken aback by their level of interest again, and in a surprisingly self-aware move for a teacher and a rapist demon, both nearly rolled their eyes at how seriously they were taking this little play Martin was putting on for their amusement. “Dick goes in hole” is the extent of what they needed to know to enjoy him, so these classes served little pedagogical purpose, but saying things out loud was half the fun. On that note…

“I fully realize that I’m just a slut,” Martin said plainly, and just as he expected a wave of smiles and giggles moved throughout the room.

“And of course, I’m not gonna struggle anymore. All I want to do now is…” he paused. His use of sexual buzz words and phrases were the reason girls still went to classes after all the other teachers were turned into zombies, but he had to pick them carefully, and “cum inside you” might suggest that he still had some degree of control left. “-serve my beautiful goddesses.”

As expected, the next wave of noise consisted of *aawws* of appreciation.

“But actually tying your captive up still has all kinds of merits,” Cheerilee started, and approached her desk again, reaching into her pocket with one hand, and holding her other up to display her ring, identical to the one every girl in the class was wearing. “Merits that make for fun sex, and tasty snacks.”

Some sirens laughed, others simply eyed their own jewelry and thanked their lucky stars for the Dazzlings.

They were following the lesson plan to the letter (in fact, already wrapping up the part that could be scripted accurately), and before he even heard the clinking of chains behind him and saw all the girls eyes and smiles widen he limply bent forwards and brought his hands behind his back to accept the pair of handcuffs. The whole room was fidgeting and rubbing their thighs together in their seats now.

“What are the merits that you see in this?” he asked the room as the cold metal (these evidently weren’t the fluffy kind) encircled his wrists and was clicked locked.

Somewhat caught off guard by the question that actually asked them to analyze something they were doing, the ten sirens in the room spent several seconds pursing their lips and looking every direction but the teachers’ trying to come up with an answer.

“He... well, I suppose he’s like a trophy,” Octavia eventually suggested.

“Trophies are symbols of past achievements. He is the achievement!” Spitfire snarkily retorted to the girl two rows on front of her.

“Nu!” Photo Finish added. “He is uh tuul! We uus him for-

“You’re all correct girls!” Cheerilee said loudly but happily, knowing to cut these kind of debates off before they spiralled. She then pulled Martin closed to her so that her elbow poked into her engorged breast, and whispered in his ear. “Next time, don’t make rape so philosophical.”

“Agreed,” Martin lamented his additions to the lesson plan at a normal volume, confusing many of his students.

“-Because when your toy is gift-wrapped, he can be whatever you want him to be.”

This statement caught the classes attention again, and seeing that Cheerilee was bringing the class back on track, Martin recited the list from last night as he looked from girl to girl.

“I can be you dildo, your pet, your… muffin. I can-”

“Be my little Cutie Pie?” a familiar voice rang out from the doorway, and all twelve heads swivelled to its source.

Against the doorway leaned Sonata Dusk, who wearing an outfit uniform that fit the class they were having perfectly.

Everyone except Martin had to look twice to recognize her because her hair was let down from it’s ponytail and cascaded down her shoulders like the water it was colored after. Below, in a mockery of private school uniforms, in addition to her necklace there was a white collar around her neck with a 6-inch long blue-to-match-her-hair tie running just barely down to her breasts. Her massive breasts, in turn, were “covered” by a white flannel shirt and black blazer, both which were held together by single buttons and left both her valley of cleavage and midriff exposed. A blue plaid miniskirt was around her things, but for the rest of her long, shapely legs she’d all but forsaken the illusion with dark pantyhoses and blue high heels.

Things moderately shaken up, Martin’s prick began the uncomfortable process of getting harder inside his leather pants.

“Ms Dusk?” Cheerilee asked, confused at the lead Dazzling’s unscheduled appearance in her class. When Sonata turned around to look for this “Miss Dusk” behind her, Cheerilee corrected herself. “Sonata?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry but-”

“No buts!” the (more) provocatively dressed siren suddenly snapped, holding up her finger. She then trotted into the room up to Martin behind the desk, who’s blank stare hid a contempt for her that the pain his cock was feeling was fueling. “I was going to take my boyfriend out for a date later,” she put her hand on his cheek, “but I didn’t wanna wait.”

Martin anticipated the deep kiss she pulled him out of Cheerilee's grasp into once he was in arm's reach, but he didn’t anticipate its passion. Because they had an audience, and even Sonata Dusk knew the importance of showing dominance, she hugged him tight so that her already squashed breasts were flat against his chest, and shoved her tongue so far down his throat he swore he’d start digesting it. She moaned loudly and started grinding herself against him as she swirled it around inside him, threatening to choke him while the whole class looked on with varying looks of surprise and jealousy, just like she wanted them to.

But when she finally pulled her tongue out, she continued to hold him close and bore an uncharacteristic look of anger and disappointment. Martin was confused, and realized that he hadn’t kissed her back or groped her ass (even though his hands were tied) just in time for her to let go, point to the opposite side of the desk and say:

“Bend over the table-thingy, and show them all your cutie pie ass!”

A round of *oooo*s sounded throughout the desks as the girls realized Cutie Pie was in trouble.

“Does the word ‘redundant’ mean anything to you people?” he thought, but walked around to the other side of the desk anyways. Cheerilee quickly yanked her computer out of his way to give him room to bend over, but the process still proved difficult with his cuffed hands. The wood was soothingly cool on his face, but the position brought back unpleasant memories of his first time with Applejack, and while the class was visually groping his blue leather clad ass, Sonata smiled down at him mischievously.

“Cherry,” the Dazzling turned to the only woman in the room not currently smiling. “Where is your long ruler?” she asked, trying to sound professional.

“We… well, we don’t have a yardstick,” the misnamed teacher did a quick scan of the room before answering cautiously.

“I don’t care about your garden, I want one of those long rulers! Oh, whatever, I’ve got a measuring app.”

“Just use your hands!” Spitfire shouted from the audience, knowing there was no way she could get off watching their sex slave get spanked with a cellphone.

Hearing the brilliant advice that she wanted to use in her plan, Sonata did what Adagio would do because right now she was trying to be in control.

“Oyster it, moron!” she shouted, pointing her finger to the siren, before slowly walking around the desk so that she stood next to the boy’s upraised ass. Martin was forced to change the list of things he was currently braced for from uncomfortable bondage and gang rape to...

“Cutie Pie,” Sonata began, running her hand over the smooth, thin leather of his pants. “Do you love me?”

“Of course, mistress.”

...lying.

“Then why didn’t you kiss me back?” she asked in a sharpened tone.

“I-!” he was cut off before he could tell her he was just enjoying her so much by a hard slap on his ass. “Gaah!” he shouted in pain and surprise. He’d hoped that he was safe while he was still wearing his pants, but the incredibly tight leather had never done him any favors and wasn’t about to start now. With Sonata’s super strength not only was there a loud smack and stinging sensation, but his bulge collided uncomfortably with the edge of the desk, which in turn scooted forwards a few inches on the floor to the eardrum unfriendly sound of wood on linoleum. And while he was still reeling from the blow, her fingers slipped into his pants and began pulling them down.

“You taste great,” Sonata said again in her normal cheerful tone. As Cheerilee watched from the corner and the girls in the audience all craned their necks to look around Sonata, they all realized that for once, the blue haired original Dazzling was right, and the meal they’d been steadily consuming since Martin came within 50 feet of them had shifted from Strawberry Fear and Despair to Tangerine Pain. It wasn't something they normally noticed, they’d just follow with their wet dreams and eat whatever came from that, but many admitted they owed their guest lecturer for escalating things so quickly.

Once enough of his cheeks were exposed, Sonata took a fistful of the flesh, her strength again making it hurt more than it should have.

“-You’re like a sexy enchilada I can fuck.”

Martin felt the air on his left cheek move around, and tensed himself just before her free hand collided with his now fully exposed tush.

“Gaaah!!” he cried out again, totally unable to contain himself when the red flash hit his behind. He didn’t slide forwards again, but only because this time his ass fully absorbed the superhuman blow. The pain swept through his whole body, and afterwards were her fingers had hit felt like they were bleeding, even if he didn’t feel the wetness of blood. The stinging lingered too, just like his ears rang after a super loud noise. Sonata and all the other sirens could certainly feel his pain, but because the Dazzlings had only ever known other people and ponies’ suffering as a tasty desert, and the rings had forced parts of their personalities on the new recruits, nobody fully understood what Martin was going through. Case in point, it took Martin a few second to realize it, but the sentimental siren had released his cheek from her iron grip and knelt down behind him. Again, a breeze on his ass was all the warning he got before she literally began kissing it.

Quiet gasps and “wows” of amazement were audible as Sonata planted loud peck after peck on her fucktoy’s swelling red and extra-sensitive butt cheeks. The left one was softer now than the right, but every light but passionate kiss sent a slightly pleasurable shiver through to Martin’s head. He didn’t underst- no, he understood. She was crazy. But she also just so happened to be in charge or him, he remembered, and he needed to prove he loved her.

“I- *mmm* I’m sorry Sonata. You just looked so sexy in your schoolgirl uniform I wasn’t sure what to do.”

His line was so stupid, eleven pairs of eyes rolled after he said it. It warmed it’s intended audience to her nonexistent soul though. She’d always wondered why they didn’t just use this magical truth-making-tell doohickey on the whole world. She concluded her ass kisses with a long, satisfied lick up his left cheek, which hurt at first but the became another soothingly cool presence after a few seconds, and stood up behind him.

“Please let me cum in your skirt,” Martin pleaded disingenuously.

“Actually…”

Sonata grabbed both the lowered hem of his pants the back of his shirt collar, and tugged him backwards like a heavy sack so that he slid across the desk and all but slumped butt-first onto the floor, bumping his sore behind painfully, and just barely catching himself with his cuffed hands. As the plot in front of hem thickened, every girl in the class was leaning forward with their eyes wide open, waiting to see what yummy, erotic torture was in store next, all but forgetting that these were supposed to be the hands-oniest of hands-on learning experiences.

Stabilizing himself on the floor, Martin looked up at his mistress’s softly smiling face, but caught a glimpse of her bare (save the ocean of juices) crotch underneath her skirt. That, combined with his position, made her next two orders unsurprising.

“Cherry, uncuff him.”

They key clattered next to him, thirty seconds later he was massaging his sore wrists.

“Eat me out sweetie.”

Martin waited for her to finish her order, then grasped her thick, pantyhose clad thighs and attacked her pussy.

The classroom smiled and giggled even though none of them were sure why. Sonata giggled too when he tickled her by slowly cleaning up her sopping vulva with his tongue. Honey was now the only thing he ate besides Dazzling breastmilk (Applejack and Applecock were looking into ways to use their farm’s milkers to streamline the process. Adagio had suggested Celestia be the full-time cow), and he’d be hard pressed to (honestly) call it good tasting, but he could stomach it by the gallon now.

“Mmmmmm. hehe. Yeah!” Sonata spewed at the unbeatable feeling of someone she loved between her legs.

“Teasing is mean!” Derpy shouted from the middle row, and without waiting for the order he knew would come Martin gripped the Dazzling’s thighs even tighter and forced his tongue inside her.

Sonata gave a full-blown moan at his entrance and wobbled in her six-inch heels. She grasped both of her large tits through her skimpy blazer and blouse in an attempt to stabilize herself, and fondled them to stay out of a pleasure coma while Martin wiggled his skilled tongue inside her.

Cheerilee’s finger’s twitched, and her hot, moist crotch became increasingly uncomfortable inside her jeans. Rarity had decided against making outfits for every siren, both out of discrepancy concerns and because Dazzlings weren’t really fans of generosity, which meant she and all her students were stuck with clothes way too concealing and sex-unfriendly for their new tastes while colored-leather clad Cutie Pie fucked the sluttiest of slutty schoolgirls in front of them. Nevertheless, once she saw Fleetfoot and Roseluck lean back in their chairs and stick their hands into their pants, Cheerilee figured it was appropriate to start really enjoying herself. She leaned back against the whiteboard… and hit her spine on the marker tray.

Under Sonata’s skirt and between her thighs was like having three heaters on full blast warming his head and face, but it was still one of the more comfortable sexual positions he was used to. He pushed the increasing numbers of moans and grunts coming from his left and the single yelp of pain from the right to focus on stroking up and down her inner thighs. The thick pantyhose felt even better running across his palms than even a Dazzling’s hairless, flawless skin, and she seemed to be enjoying his tough to because she’d perk up a little every time he ran his caressing hands came all the way up and touched her bare crotch.

Speaking of which, after essentially showing her both ends of the spectrum with both tease and penetration, Martin pulled his tongue out and chained together light and heavy attacks for combos that got even Rainbow Dash and Applejack squirting in no time flat. He’d lick her slit, plant a kiss on her mound (which reminded him of the cold air on his still exposed, wet and hurting ass), piston in and out a few times, even give her cunny a suckle or two, but would never focus on it for fear of becoming predictable.

His method worked again, and after less than a minute Ms Dusk’s legs were quaking in his hands. With her superpowers and millennia of experience, she and her sisters could actually keep up until he dropped dead from exhaustion, but they had nothing to prove to anyone, so she pinched both of her nipples through her clothes Sonata came loudly. And because he knew girls thought it sexy, Cutie Pie made no attempt to move his head out of the way and opened his mouth wide.

While he was still being showered by the guest lecturer’s “affection”, differently pitched moans rang out from the desks, indicating his students were as pleased as she was. He knew better than to think he was closed to finished though, and so once the blast of burning hot liquid raining onto his mouth slowed to a drizzle, he pulled his honey soaked face out from under her skirt and looked up at his mistress.

“*Exaggerated gulp* *Toothy grin* Wow! And they named me after a pie.”

As Sonata gave one big sigh and reluctantly opened her eyes to come back to reality (or at least the place between reality and orgasmic bliss she normally resided in), Martin’s grin weakened though as he regretted his previous comment. He’d wanted to flatter her, but had it been too smart sounding for a slutty bimbo? Or too assertive?

Sonata smiled when she opened her eyes though, which at first was a relief to Martin. But then he saw that it was something behind him that was making her happy, and out of the corner of his eye he saw that Cheerilee had either turned invisible (wouldn't be the first power they’d pulled out of their asses for the sole purpose of making his life miserable), or had moved from the front of the room.

“Thank you for that very educational performance, Ms D- Sonata,” thanked the pink-haired faculty member.

“Shut up, moron. It was great,” Sonata replied happily, still trying again to imitate Adagio. Cheerilee looked confused for a second, then shrugged and set the box she was carrying down on the edge of the desk. Martin turned around to see what it was, and the mere sight of a leather buckle sunk his heart as he remembered the rest of the lesson plan.

“We were planning on doing today’s lesson on bon-tying people up to fuck them.”

Sonata’s smile turning into a beam was all the permission Cheerilee needed. She reached into the box and dropped a pair of underwear next to Martin.

“Strip naked and put those on,” she commanded flatly.

Amidst painful flashbacks to the first night after their Male Bondage Kit arrived in the mail, Martin quickly threw off his jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Hey, wait a-” the blue Dazzling began.

“It’s vibrating underwear,” Cheerilee quickly specified, and reached into the box again to retrieve the remote control.

“Oh my- Are those vibrating underwear!?” Lyra Heartstrings was the only student to blurt out her disbelief as the rest exchanged mutters and expressions. Their crotches were all soaked and cooling off now, but if Cutie Pie was about to go experience forced mechanical stimulation, they’d warm up again pretty quickly.

“Oh my gosh! These things are so fun!” Sonata said, recalling all the times that her sisters tied her up and put various machines on her to shut her up.

Martin gave a smile that he wished he could say was nervous as he discarded his shirt, leaving his buff chest exposed and drool-overable. He then tore off his shoes and socks and started the arduous process of removing his pants while sweaty and hard. His penis was conflicted on whether or not to stay that way though. He was anticipating orgasms, and lots of them, but he knew they’d be painful, and their source would lacked a pretty face or big tits to force him into the mood anyways.

Anyways, both to make removing the tight, constricting garment easier and to give the audience what they wanted to see and sit on, he scooped up the underwear-shaped torture device and stood up between Cheerilee and Sonata. Holding the heavy garment against his palm he tugged down with both his thumbs. It hurt quite a bit, but he finally got the front past his half-erect member, and after that since the back was already pulled down his pants simply dropped to his feet and his cock was bared.

He deliberately paused to let the sight of the body they’d already all used multiple time sink in, but to his surprise there were no gasps and barely any widened eyes among the siren’s in front of him. Realizing they were caught up in the performance, he wasted no more time in bending over, slipping both his legs into the evil contraption, and pulling it up his legs. His cock had barely felt the round massaging mechanisms against it before there was a faint clicking sound to his left.

He screamed in surprise and ecstasy, and bent forwards clutching his crotch.

The class burst into laughter, because as much control as they had over him, they still had a respect for his large cock and chiseled body that could only be undermined by seeing him brought to a quivering mess with the push of a button.

Just like if he’d been kicked in the groin, Martin stumbled forwards, only catching himself on the front of Cloudkicker’s desk. He didn’t know if this was what they wanted (Cloudkicker’s smile as she stood up and stepped away suggested it was), but he couldn’t help it. Sexual attacks are like bad video game controls: nobody suspect their power of until they experience it for themselves, and it takes several playthroughs for proper memory of that power to develop. Weeks ago, Martin Saylin could never imagine simply having two devices buzzing against his hypersensitive (they still didn’t trust his stamina without the ring) base and tip at once could stick his tongue out and roll his eyes back for him, but it was now driving him mad with unwanted pleasure.

Refusing to collapse like he had the first time though, he squeezed the sides of the desk and clenched his eyes shut until it hurt, then concentrated on keeping his wobbling legs strong beneath him. The underwear was tight and he’d put his cock was pressed right up against the virbators, so there was no way he could deny the pleasure. His eyes became watery as he fought the urge to reach down and tear the infernal garment off. The feeling was like having a mosquito on it’s diet cheat day sucking him dry between the legs, but to swat it would be to fail his mistresses.

After what must’ve been decades that only lasted about thirty seconds though, the stimulating sensation on his penis didn’t fade, but became familiar enough for him to steady his shaking knees and take a deep breath through his nose, his eyes still closed. With that, the schadenfreude-fueled laughter surrounding him died down into giggles and then happy sighs.

“Crank it up again!” Bon Bon shouted, and normally that’s exactly what Martin would’ve expected one of his mistresses to do. But Cheerilee had both the remote and a third of the self-restraint left in CHS (Celestia and Luna had the other two), and actually brought a sudden but merciful end to the buzzing and stimulation to allow for phase three of the lesson.

“Thank you, Martin,” she accidentally referred to him the same way she did back when they learned math and English together. “Now would you please have a seat?”

His cock was bone hard after being tricked into thinking it was in the greatest pussy ever, and he could still feel the vibrators banging against his shaft and tip, but he didn’t need to be told twice to sit down, and so after catching his breath he yanked the desk out of the way and collapsed into the chair behind it. The girl’s to his sides and behind him were all staring at him intently, waiting to see what would happen next, but he lazily watched Sonata and Cheerilee in front of him, still recovering.

“Now Sonata,” the PHD’d woman set the controller down on the desk and took a red ballgag out of the box (to several light gasps and whispers from the audience). “Would you like to do the honors?”

“Actually, I’d like to do Cutie Pie,” Sonata replied as she took the gag... “But okay. Idiot.” -and opened her mouth to fasten it around her head.

“No! No,” Cheerilee pulled Sonata’s arms down and pointed to her left. “On Cutie Pie.”

The whole audience, except the one teenager who had to put up with the third Dazzling’s stupidity regularly, laughed. Sonata took no offense though.

“Oh. Silly goose,” she acknowledged and turned to walk over to Martin.

“Good. Now just say ‘rapist goose’ and ‘evil monster goose’, and you’ll truly be self aware,” Martin sniped in his head.

Sonata circled around Cutie Pie at his desk, and he cooperatively opened his mouth for when she swung the rubber ball over his head and pulled it back. Of course, the red rubber device and it’s leather straps forced his jaw painfully wide and dug into his cheeks, but once he felt the clips pressed against the back of his head and secured, it inflicted no more sustained pain than the rubber device pinching his cock.

“Cloudkicker, ” Cheerilee called, and the standing teenager snapped her head away from the scene to look to the front of the room, where their teacher was holding an armbinder. “Why don’t you *chuckle* slip Mar-Cutie Pie into something more comfortable?”

A few of the girls chuckled at the terrible joke, and Martin watched the soccer player walk up and get the black-rubber glove that was soon to restrain his arms far more effectively than the cuffs did with a bored, exhausted look that showed how much he cared.

“Oh boy! You’re gonna be all cute and trussed up when we’re done here!” Sonata said to him cheerily as Cloudkicker walked back towards him. Martin regretted having moved the desk out of the way because now his front was completely exposed. Sonata stepped to the side as Cloudkicker circled around the back of him too. “This is gonna be so much fun.”

Martin was holding his arms together behind the back of the chair before he even realized it, and sure enough, because the website had specified that the binder was the “E-Z release rubber single strap” variant, Cloudkicker didn’t need any instructions. She slowly slipped it up his arms like a massive sock. Inside the rubber reflected his body heat and it was actually quite warm, but any semblance of comfort vanished when is started snagging on his skin, and once it was up to the top of his arms, she held it in place with one super strong hand, forcing his arms painfully against the uneven back of the chair, and and tugged the elastic strap back with her other hand until there was an audible stretching noise and he felt the familiar feeling of a limb being severed by tightness.

While he was still getting used to the dismembering feeling of the rubber glove (being bound for Applejack in the barn had put him in a similar position and hurt far more, but at least then his upper arms were free enough to feel the air and snap if he tried to use them), he heard Bon Bon, Photo, and Roseluck’s names called out, and soon a similar process of leather strapping was applied to first his eyes with the same type of blindfold Fluttershy had used, and then his ankles around the legs of the heavy chair, and finally his abdomen (kids sliding forwards out of their chairs was enough of a problem while they weren't being raped).

Around the time of the leg straps, chairs started squeaking as their occupants slid out of them, and there was a great migration of sirens to the front of the room.

“Well, blind, mute, quadruple amputated and with minor breathing problems. I guess I might as well go back into autopilot,” Martin’s subconscious figured, right before a fourth name was called out, and a round of loud *oooo*’s broke out once the final device was retrieved and shown to everyone but him.

“Hait. Huths-?” Martin began through his gag, but tailed off when he remembered there was nothing he could do about it. Minuette was the final girl to walk around back of him and kneel down. Genuine fear starting to take hold, he tried to remember everything that had been in the ordered bondage kit and/or think of what else there was for them to cut off. He hadn’t minded much when he was blindfolded at first, because Sonata’s ~~provocative~~ already-kicking-the-crap-out-of-you outfit couldn’t keep him focused afterwards, but now he was peeling his eyes open underneath the padded leather as if it would somehow let him see what the next instrument was. As soon as a warm finger tugged down his underwear through back of the chair though, things became pretty clear and seriously frightening.

“Hmm. Lean forward a little,” Minuette commanded once she saw that his puckered anus was still against the seat. After Martin heard the order, he felt a prisoner in his own body again, because his tightest orifice was about to have something probably worse than Applejack’s tongue stuck up it.

Although his hands became clammy inside the rubber binder and his forehead sweated under the blindfold, he lifted his arms out of the way leaned forwards as far as his other bindings would allow. It wasn’t very far, but damn the open-seated design of these chairs because it was enough for Minuette to slide plastic, penis shaped object in between his tight, but somewhat quaking ass cheeks and level it with his bung hole. It was then that he realized that he’d been clutching his anus without realizing it, and considered for a second his options; he both knew that is was just another sex toy, and that this was part of the lesson plan, but also that this time the impossibly sized anal-invader it was sure to kill him with it’s girth. With great reluctance, he pushed his anus out like he was pooping, and prayed he’d be able to close it again someday.

Then with all the ceremony of inserting a spare battery, Minuette pushed the dildo or dildo-like object into him. He’d thought it would take every bit of her super strength to insert the much larger tool, but his cheeks simply slid out of the way and he was stuffed up before he even had time to will himself not so squirm.

When he realized what had happened, he gasped, nearly choking on his gag, and flexed his feet, neck and back as far as they would go, trying to pull his already plugged ass away from anything that might disturb the object and cause him further pain.. The class gave another round of laughter at his squirms, but he stopped and settled down in his chair when he realized he wasn’t in excruciating pain. The feeling of something, smooth, plastic and only vaguely penis shaped inside him was certainly strange, but hurt no more than needing to crap, and was actually, inexplicably, sexually satisfying. Sitting down though, drove the last inch inside him, and he gave another gasp and back-flex, while the class laughed again.

Minuette took the back of his underwear and pulled it back up to seal the device inside him, then took a step back and admired their toy with the rest of the class.

After he settled down again, his only movement was his heaving chest. They’d all had different opinions on why having him tied up with the most elaborate equipment money could buy would be a good idea, but all of them were confirmed when they saw him how he was. His muscular body was lined with sexy dark black that evoked pleasant memories of the porn they’d looked at back when they still needed it. They also did understand the redundancy of tying him up to some degree, but there was also a rush of power in seeing him completely helpless in a way they were familiar with. Seconds turned to minutes as he sat there in darkness, feeling the equipment hug and bite him, and concentrating of the pleasure in his butt. He could hear their light panting and smell their wet crotches, but the planned part of the class had concluded, and there was still at least an hour or so until the bell rang and he was sent down to the gym to stay in shape with the other slaves. Who was going to make the first move?

Cheerilee eventually answered that question with another click. He screamed at the sudden feeling of the plug being replaced by what must’ve been some kind of animal, twisting and turning and shaking inside him. His whole bottom half felt like it was in the middle of a 6.3 earthquake while the rest of his body was fine. But of course, the object rattling around inside him, bouncing back and forth on his walls and prostate, produced a tickling-sort of pleasurable feeling that was making his vibrating underwear much tighter.

Realizing this, he sucked in breath to scream, but decided against it, and slowly breathed out as he settled down for a third time. It was clear now what the device up his ass really was, and that true to erotic tradition, Cheerilee had cranked it up to (what he hoped was) full blast. He could envision the girls faces, all grinning, some already rolling their eyes back. He didn’t understand why his underwear wasn’t blaring as well though, but he wasn’t complaining.

“Now,” he heard Cheerilee say through the incessant buzzing. Then there was a very faint rattling sound, like a box of mark- fuck. “Who’s ready for some art class.”

Without a word from any of them, the sirens all dug their fingers out of their pants and rushed up to the front. Sonata stayed behind him though, preferring to watch. On their way back to him though, the mob was giggling and joking noisily.

The tips of the permanent markers felt cold and tickled his skin, but their bodies crowded around him, breathing hard and occasionally touching him was burning hot. For several minutes while his cock grew harder and harder, they scribbled all over him, and though he could never say for sure what they’d written, based on how it felt and what they said, it was far more of an English class.

His inner thighs were the most obvious target, and eager to claim it for themselves, Cloudkicker and Bon Bon wrote “SLUT” and “Candy Ass” in big letters on his left and right beefcake respectively. His blindfold also protected his forehead, but Roseluck and Carrot Top put a cartoon penis and “Insert Pussy” on his cheeks, pointing to his mouth. After that, the girls were scrambling for whatever space they could get, but prominent additions included Spitfire’s “RAPE ME” in the center of his chest, and Derpy’s “Love Muffin” on his left foot.

All this touching and poking was stimulating thought, and sped up the virbator’s work by getting him rock hard and ready to blow in record time. The final push came when Lyra tugged down his underwear and held his cock upright to slowly write out “CUM PUM”. She’d miscalculated the distance and couldn’t find room for the last letter, but once her marker left his tip he moaned and exploded against her hand. Lyra jumped back, flinging some of his jizz against Photo Finish, and the rest of the group took a step back as well to watch him squirm as shot after shot of sperm gushed out of him, spraying his stomach and dripping down across his balls and into the pulled down underwear, where he hoped it would short circuit it but instead simply stickied him up. Oblivious to the fact that it was finished, the vibrator kept on buzzing, and there was the slight fear that it would keep pleasuring him until he died of dehydration. But like in a video game when you’re invulnerable for a second after getting hit, the buzzing had lost it’s pleasurable tang for now and he could catch his breath while the siren’s watched him in indecision. In theory.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” Sonata said from behind him seconds later.

“Sorry for what, Ms Dusk?” Cheerilee asked as confused as Martin.

“You wanted to cum in me,” she said, and walked around in front of him. “I’m sorry, I just got caught up in the moment.”

“Wait! Hold on-”

“Why do you get to-”

“You weren’t even in this class!”

Sonata ignored the class’s protests, and casually put her hands on his shoulders to position herself to simply hop on his graffitied but reluctance hardening cock.

“Girls! Calm down. We’ll all get out turns on Martin, but Ms Dusk has-” Cheerilee began before Sonata proved herself a geometrical savant by perfectly bending her legs and impaling herself on her cock (She never did understand the point of a skirt if you were wearing panties). She moaned louder than was necessary, and then began pumping herself up and down by his shoulders.

“-Special privileges as a lead Dazzling.”

Back in autopilot, minutes turned into hours and pussy’s turned into asses as Martin, stimulated from both ends, came in each one of his students over and over and over. Needless to say, he was late for gym.

“Where are all the school shooters when you need them,” he thought.

Author's Note

With the conclusion drawing near, I thought I'd change the routine up a bit and show Siren-dominated CHS in action.

Kratosing

The Crystal Prep office door looked cleaner and shinier than any CHS door, and seemed to open without a creak. The whole hallway had been like that, while Principal Luna had talked about her niece and how much they’d like each other, Martin had been busy admiring the floors and lockers that only seemed flawless because he’d heard Crystal Prep was a private school.

Becoming the Dazzling’s “Cutie Pie” had given Martin a new admiration for private schools, or at least any school that wasn’t currently filled with mind-controlled children and run by evil siren girls addicted to his and a small group of other boy’s cocks. If any of his foster parents had sent him to one, would the end of two worlds not be rapidly approaching as the portal came closer to opening, and the Dazzlings would return home to enthrall the occupants of the other world’s castles, who were also named Celestia and Luna but were, like, horse gods? All logic pointed to no, but that’s still what he was wondering when the door marked “Dean Cadence” swung open.

The young faculty member didn’t usually open the door for her visitors, but the idea of a visit from her second favorite aunt got her up lighting fast at the sight female silhouette through the glass.

“Auntie Luna!” the expectedly beautiful pink-suit clad dean beamed.

“Cadence,” Luna said more meekly. “I-“

But her niece cut her off with a large, soft hug. Dazzling Lieutenant Luna was taken aback by the friendly gesture that she hadn’t seen anything resembling in weeks, and Martin couldn’t help but smile for a second.

“Oh! Umm, it is very good to see you too, Cadence.”

The dean finally released the principal, but held both of her hands, and stared down at where she’d two giant pillows obstructing her aunt during their embrace.

“Wow, auntie,” she commented, and then looked her in the eye with a jovial expression. “Are you going through some kind of… second puberty, or something?”

Martin’s smile vanished, as he remembered why they were here.

“Hmmm, no,” Luna replied naturally, apparently not remotely worried by her niece’s noticing of her supernaturally enhanced physique. “But you are one to comment,” she gestured at Cadence’s own sizable love pillows, trapped behind her suit jacket. “Your-“

But Cadence’s cheerful expression turned fearful and guilty the moment she glanced to the right and saw the student Luna had brought with her.

“Oh my! I’m so sorry,” Cadence covered her mouth and apologized to Martin, seeing that their bawdy conversation had a student audience.

“It’s okay,” Martin replied, but his tone had a snark to it that found her attempts to shield the already 18-year-old boy from the topic of the breast he’d drank from hours earlier rather annoying.

“Please, come in, both of you. We have business to discuss, correct?” she said quickly, stepping back into her office.

“Actually,” Luna clenched her butt muscles and looked down the hallway. “Mr. Saylin here is perfectly capable of reading you our proposal for the Friendship Games this year. I may need to use your restrooms before I am ready.”

“Oh. Yes, please do. You know where they are, right?” said Cadence as she returned to her desk.

“Yes. Thank you. I promise I will only be a minute!” principal Luna assured, and turned and walked past Martin down the halls. Out of view of Cadence in the office though, her sashayed walk didn’t indicated she needed to do #2 (emotions don’t leave waste after all), and partway down she looked back at Martin, and winked.

“So, Mr.-“

“Martin,” he turned back to the dean. “My name’s Martin Saylin.”

“Please, have a seat.”

“Start the timer to rape… now,” Martin thought.

“We’ve, well, we built our schedule to be consistent about the time of day…” Martin looked away from his smartphone and the theoretical Friendship Games schedule Luna had thrown together the night before to sell the cover story, and back at Cadence across the desk. According to his phone’s clock, they’d been talking for two minutes now, and although he was only feeling about a 4-5 on the freedom scale the dean was a apparently a lightweight when it came to lust magic. A rope of drool had formed from her mouth as she’d stared at him while he deliberately prattled on. She couldn’t place it on any one body part; his face, chest, and from what she could see, cock were all impressive, but nothing Shining Armor and some of her students hadn’t shown her before. But the longer she looked at him, the more… perfect he became in her eyes, and the more she felt not just carnal lusts, but the urge to... get him somehow, like he was a cute shirt she was seeing in a store window. She knew it wasn’t remotely professional, much less okay for her to pine over a student, even one that didn’t attend her school, but damn, wouldn't it be fun to just pin him down and-

A *bing* suddenly echoed throughout the room, startling both occupants. Cadence shook in her chair as she was rudely thrown from her fantasy, but Martin was used to getting texts from his mistresses by now, and quickly scanned the bar that had slid down.

Luna:
Abandon mission. Come downstairs, go left, black janitor closet at hall end

For several seconds, Martin sat there staring at his phone, confused. Did Luna mean it for him? Obviously. But then what could possibly be in a Crystal Prep janitor’s closet to justify abandoning her half-captured niece?

“Is it something important?” said niece finally asked. Martin looked up at her, but kept pondering his new orders. Could mistress Luna be in trouble? Unlikely, but he was obligated to obey every order from a siren, even if it wasn’t issued in person.

“I’m sorry,” Martin apologized, standing up and pocketing his phone as fast as his secrecy would allow, since if he didn’t leave Cadance’s proximity soon he could have a Fluttershy situation on his hands. “But principal Luna wants to talk to me. I should be right back.”

He didn’t actually know if he was coming back, but he didn’t want her to try and stop him. Above an incomprehensible spew of questions and protests he shoved in his chair in and speed walked out the door, kicking it shut behind him.

In the brightly lit open air of the hallways, he paused for a moment, and nearly took a deep breath. The (probably imagined) darkness, stuffiness and sexual stench of Cadence’s office was gone, and the feeling of his obligations rushing back to him almost felt refreshing, since it meant that for the first time, even if it wasn’t by his initiative, he’d gotten away from a rapist.

With his returning obligations though, came the urgent need to obey the order that had gotten out of the room. He recalled first the words of the text in his head, and then the layout of the school as they’d come in, and then broke into a light jog towards the stairwell.

Again, he got to wondering about why Luna had called him away from this rather meticulously planned mission that Adagio had forbidden them from undertaking:

“Oh please, the last thing we need is another suit-jacketed bureaucrat slut.”

His mind raced through possibilities even as he descended into the darkened basement level. A science project that could hurt or help them? Something sexual Luna just had to use on him while they were there? A girl that she’d want as a siren even more than her niece- wait a second.

Once he jumped off the final stair into the far less bright and shiny halls of the basement (can basements even have halls?), Martin looked to his right and saw Luna standing next to a door on the right that looked blacker than the rest, and dashed over.

“Ah, Martin. You won’t believe-”

“Is there a human Twilight Sparkle in there?” he asked dryly as he came to a stop next to her.

“What?” Luna recoiled in shock, but her tone told him it was only because he’d guessed correctly. “How- well, no!”

Martin could’ve gone on to boast how he’d remembered that people on earth were supposed to have counterparts in the other world, and that he figured something like this would the only thing important enough to pull him away from his mission, but he could see that there’d be no point besides annoying Luna, which in turn made it impossible for him.

“No! There is simply… a… It appears my niece is not quite the woman I believed her to be...”

While Luna continued to deny the obvious truth, determined to taste at least some delicious surprise that day, Martin’s unassuming expression hid a mull over the prospect of a human Twilight Sparkle beyond the black metal door. A few months ago, he’d seen a cute purple-haired girl he didn’t recognize crawling along the hallway floor. He’d written her off as a visitor to CHS, which was how he first got to see the school, but she established her identity and told the whole school they were in for a ride soon after with the song and dance she and five other girls of varying familiarity to him performed, asking for his Fall Formal Queen vote during lunch. That was the first time he’d attended a school event interested in more than the school credits he could get for setup and cleanup, and was proud to say he voted against Sunset Shimmer in the election. But the night still had plenty more surprises, and three demons, a brief darkzone which he couldn’t recall, girls with wings, a talking dog, and a shitload of explanation at the following assembly later, and what little he’d seen of the magical princess from the pony dimension through the statue was etched into his memory for good.

“There is evidence inside this room that has made me reconsider her value as a siren, but I believe you, having freed the most women of any slave, should observe this evidence and give me your honest opinion.”

“Well, not the worst recovery I’ve heard,” Martin thought about Luna’s lie, his eyes transfixed on the door.

“I understand mistress. I’ll take a look,” he said back to her without looking away from the closet, and slowly walked passed her and gripped the handle. Luna watched him with a frown, angry, and maybe even jealous that he clearly wasn’t going to get a near heart attack when he saw what she’d seen exit the library and stroll past her in a Crystal Prep uniform. Her frown started to invert though, when she remembered that Celestia, who was oh-so fun and easy to prank/surprise, still hadn’t seen it/her, and also that if Martin understood why he was going in there, he wouldn’t leave until a girl with all of the other-dimensional princess’s tits and faces but none of her menace was theirs.

Bracing himself for whatever he was going to see next whatever significance he’d assign to the human Twilight Sparkle he was about to see, he twisted the handle and swung the door open.

At first, the only thing he could make out were two blotches, one white on the left wall and the other orange hanging from the ceiling. Then his eyes adjusted, and he saw that they were really a window and a lightbulb respectively, illuminating the space significantly darker than the rest of the basement. When he brought his adjusted eyes down though, there were fewer surprises.

Long, purple tied-back hair above a for-some-reason-glasses-wearing but chiseled face, with a green and purple dog sitting on the table to the right. He recognized them quickly, but for several seconds he stood in the open doorway, trying process what he was seeing. Green and purple eyes stared back at their unexpected visitor with a mix of surprise, anticipation and fear. Even though neither wasn’t social enough to recognize this boy, most of the school seemed to know where they resided and that they didn’t like to be disturbed, so for better or for worse this might be important.

“Tw- Twilight? Spike?” Martin spattered out as he looked between them.

“Yes. Twilight Sparkle,” the purple uniform clad girl confirmed standing up from her desk. Martin kept looking at the dog on the table for a bit longer though, waiting for his response.

“Umm, h-hi… Twilight,” he turned back to her when none came. Logically he deduced that the version of Spike didn’t have the ability to speak. But the canine that cracked jokes outside the school and sung and danced at the formal held the same significance to Martin’s memories of the magical few days as the princess, so throughout the conversation Martin kept glancing back to Spike, partially afraid he’d attack him in defense of his sister.

Absentmindedly pulling the door shut behind him, cutting them off from Luna and again giving the room the darkness the scientific duo thrived in, he looked her up and down and scanned the room with his eyes, trying to think of some way to sustain a conversation with her. But there were so many questions and emotions running through his head that his mission faded to the back of his mind.

“I- I’m,”

It was like when he saw Rarity and Fluttershy in Carousel Boutique, times a thousand. At least he saw them frequently, and their heroics and virtues were offset by the few flaws he knew they possessed, but Twilight Sparkle was impossible to humanize from the few direct memories he had of her, mostly because she wasn’t human!

She was a pony… goddess? Princess? “All-unicorn”? and her element, as he’d been told, was magic itself.

“-I’m Martin and-”

“N-Nice to meet you, Martin,” she held out her hand for him to shake it, but her voice hit him like a freight train. He was wrong before; this had to be the same Twilight! Maybe she’d lost her memory somehow and ended up at Crystal Prep, but she spoke in the exact same intelligent and feminine voice that was as iconic to him as her face and conservative sense of dress that did little to hide her voluptuous figure. Was he really doing this? Could he physically do this to the other-worldly superhero who’d fended off a demon girl in a battle that nearly leveled CHS with her mind? Like with Rainbow Dash his necklace felt light and powerless around his neck as he doubted its ability to protect him from his target’s wrath, but he slowly raised his hand to meet her in the gesture.

Twilight was taken aback by how warm and soft his hand felt on hers. When she first saw him he was just another student here to distract her. But the longer she examined him the more… intriguing he became. First, she noticed that he had on a blue collared shirt and sweatpants, so his attendance of Crystal Prep was improbable. Examination of his clothes in turn lead to examination of the body they concealed.

To Martin though, Ms Sparkle’s touch stung him with shame and unworthiness the same way her voice did, so he ended the handshake quickly, and tried again to talk.

“I’m, um,” he scanned the improvised science lab for cover story once more, but came up dry again. “I’m... actually hear to ask you about-”

He racked his brain to think of something to say, but in the pause he noticed an excited smile, like that one gives when a present is being unboxed for them, had appeared on her face.

“Oh please, oh please, oh please- wait!” Twilight’s own inner monologue stopped when she realized her own intentions. “A date? Aren’t romantic gestures superfluous products of a culture, and attraction itself simply-”

But she looked him up and down again, and saw that he matched all the standard criteria that could spark attraction in a bisexual teenage girl. Young, healthy, muscular and well drawn facially, logically she couldn’t fault herself (much) for feeling sexual attraction towards the boy in front of her.

Martin didn’t know what her faded smile meant, but her continued failure to sustain eye contact with him, solidified by her licking her lips while focusing on his midsection, was a second freight train. Was it working? It couldn’t be, she was way too powerful, and even the Dazzlings feared her. She couldn’t go down this easily!

He asked himself how he felt about his mission to capture her, and whether he had to carry it out if he didn’t want to, and he discovered, “less by the second”.

“That doesn’t mean anything!” he told himself. “How long have we been in here, a minute tops? She probably just hasn’t adapted to the spell yet!”

“I’m from CHS, Canterlot High School, and we’re actually interested in having some of Crystal Prep’s best and brightest present after the Friendship Games to let us know about the private school experience.”

No, physical attraction couldn't explain it, at least not completely, there was something intrinsically desirable about Martin. She couldn't say what or where, but it was like he was brilliant, compassionate, loyal, confident, generous, honest and everything else that might attract her to a mate, at once. He just seemed… right, and much to her annoyance her tight, concealing clothes reflected that as they heated up and itched.

“Holy shit, am I going to be raped by Twilight Sparkle?” Martin mentally asked the universe as a whole when his hero’s forehead started to glisten and nipples became visible even through her bra, shirt, and vest. He looked to Spike for a final time, who seemed to recognize that something was unfolding by how intently he was watching them, but looked far more curious than distressed or eager to intervene, just like any other dog would be. “Can I let her do that?” he looked down at her smooth, pretty legs. “-knee me in the groin, throw me to the floor, tear my fly open and punch me when I try to... scream?”

He thought back to the week and a half he’d spent enthralling the attractive of-age females of CHS. The most physically painful week of his life for sure, since they were trying to act as quickly as possible and he’d been forced to approach the girls in less-than-optimal rape environments, but had he actually screamed or struggled all that much?

No. They’d roughed him up to get him on the floor and keep him quiet, but if he really wanted to he could’ve screamed for help successfully and/or beaten them to a bloody pulp.He’d never fought back, at least not with the same ferocity as he had with Rainbow Dash and Spitfire, and maybe now he could see why.

The soccer players, he’d known could take care of themselves. And maybe it was their already aggressive personalities that allowed him to forget that they weren’t in their right minds when they taped him to the toilet. But his necklace felt very heavy and cumbersome when Carrot Top, Lyra, Minuette and Bon Bon threw him to the floor and punched him in the face. As annoying as it was when they insisted that they were helping him somehow and that he’d enjoy it once they got started, and as much as he hated what the process turned them into, there were some girls too kind, too innocent, too good for him to hurt either physically or by breaking their delusions of mutual benefit. Besides, he eventually came to terms with that fact that even if he did successfully scream for help or escape while he was temporarily freed by their desire, ten minutes later he’d be explaining it was all a misunderstanding and that it’d been totally consensual, and preparing to fuck a girl now equally angry and horny.

“Damn you Twilight Sparkle,” Martin mentally declared as his mission disappeared in his mind and the smell of arousal filled the last air pocket in the room. “If we’re gonna do this, you’ve more than earned doing it with at least the appearance of consent.”

“Uh, a presentation, okay,” Twilight finally responded in a soft, slurred voice, utterly engrossed by the latest delivery to her lab.

“Yeah,” her clouded mind picked up on that idea. “He is mine. He came to my lab just like all the stuff I order. I can use him however I want, I just need-”

But Martin cut her rape/thought train off by grabbing her hips, and pulling her into a deep kiss.

It happened so quick she didn’t make a noise. His hands felt evil for ruffling her flannel shirt, and his whole face was uncomfortable pressed against the smooth, soft skin of her perfect one, but he had to sell it, so he closed his eyes and forced his tongue into her mouth.

Her eyes went wide behind her glasses at the sudden invasion, and she held her hands up in both defense and panic. This time, Martin did feel a muffled shriek against his tongue, and for a second wondered if the necklace wasn’t working and if he was finally the one raping. But after a second or two of them in the position she failed to struggle, and when he moved his tongue just the tiniest bit, she moaned and he felt her teeth shift in a way that suggested she was smiling.

“Fuck me. We’re really doing this,” he thought. For a second he opened his eyes to confirm that it really was Twilight Sparkle, the savior of CHS, ruler of Equestria and *sigh* possibly both world’s last hope, that he was about to fuck and corrupt like every other hot schoolgirl before her. He saw that she’d closed her eyes blissfully behind her large but uniquely alluring glasses, which meant it was. “Okay,” he closed his eyes again and tried to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to do. “It’s just like Sonata. Just dig in and do whatever comes to you and she’ll be happy.”

Sliding his hands around behind her and hiking up her skirt to grab two fistfuls of her fleshy, silk-panty clad ass seemed like the first logical step. Again, she gasped at the completely new feeling of being touched so aggressively and intimately. This time, she opened her eyes to look at his face in an attempt to confirm his intentions. But she saw his eyes were closed softly as he kissed her, and felt his rising body temperature cooking her inside her uniform, so he clearly knew what he was doing. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his back to pull the two of them even closer, and tried to give into her own rising libido and try to enjoy his touches just like the characters in her cheesy novels did.

Interpreting her embrace as his cue to get rough, Martin’s hands and mouth became fully mobile again. He’d pull his lips a quarter inch away from hers only to force himself own her throat and swirl around inside, and he’d squeeze and fondle and pull up on her ass as much as her underwear, which he’d occasionally play with the hem of, would allow. Twilight felt her body being invaded and misshapen, and every breath she could draw past his mouth would be used to gasp or moan. But he just felt so warm and comforting around her, and she wondered if this was how Smartypants and Spike felt when she cuddled them, only with the implied promise of sexual gratification to create positively-connotated stress and enhance senses.

Speaking of Spike, while Martin probed his mistress’s oral cavity, he heard a faint huff to his right where the perfectly normal dog had been sitting, and then there were several clicking noises as he jumped to the floor and scampered off into the far corner, apparently not the least bit interested in his sister’s adolescent development.

Now that the irrelevant character’s absence had been handwaved, Martin pulled his mouth away and gave his beautiful savior a long, passionate lick from the base of her neck to the top of her cheek, which she accepted nonverbally by lulling her head back to give him more access and filling the room with a deep moan once her smooth, taut skin was stained with his searing hot saliva.

“I love you Twilight,” he whispered an assurance against her cheek, though his tone was more suited for an apology.

“I love you too… um,” she replied in a daze without opening her eyes. Martin intentionally didn’t give her the opportunity to show she’d forgotten his name, and abruptly pulled his hands off her moistening ass and around to her chest between them.

When he gripped her by the collar, she did open her eyes and mouth with a look of concern, and her embrace of his body weakened. But before she could ask him what he was doing he put his faith in the realism of pornos (it seemed to work for the Dazzlings), and pulled each side of her white dress shirt in opposing directions to rip it open.

The buttoning was no match for the peak teenage body that got him into this mess in the first place, and with only a faint *rip* and a couple of *pop*s, the garment split down the middle, pulling her shirt tie off and baring her upper chest above her vest in an instant.

Twilight pulled her hands back to the defensive position, and stared down at her exposed cleavage, her mouth agape. She knew full well the function, both biological and societal, of female mammaries, but she’d only realized how big her own had gotten once her non-familial post-puberty associates (both boys and girls. Crystal Prep was like CHS that way) started staring at her chest with varying degrees of either what she best approximated to be desire or jealousy. Her black bra and vest still supported and covered them from the front, but to have them exposed in such a way in front of a heterosexual male (even if he didn’t look all that impressed) still felt…

After a second, her mouth closed and smiled. Just as Martin had paused in the hopes that she would, she reached her hands under the bottom of her purple-plaid sweater vest and peeled it upwards. Martin removed his hands and stepped back to let her pull it over her head and drop it to the floor along with her glasses which she’d scraped off, leaving her face identical to her counterpart’s and only the crumbled bottom third of her shirt and the black bra which her nipples looked ready to burst out of to protect her legendary modesty.

And when he looked up she was smirking a smirk that was less malicious that your average siren, but made her next move, to tear off the remnants of her shirt then unclip her bra to allow her as-of-yet untapped milk reservoirs to bounce free, unsurprising.

“My God! They’re gorgeous, Twilight,” he complimented in fake astonishment. If he never saw a pair of oversized breasts or a perfect female figure again in his life it’d be too soon, but Twilight had to think he was loving every minute of this.

Still grinning like an idiot, he stepped up to her again and placed his hands lightly on her shoulders with just the slightest pull to the right. Twilight, despite her inexperience, understood what he meant and stepped to the side, sliding up to sit on her desk, then leaning back and spreading her legs.

“And I’m just supposed to plow her,” Martin lamented internally. Externally, he desperately undid his fly (glad that his toy outfit was deemed too conspicuous for this mission), and in one swift motion dropped his pants down to his knees.

He reached forwards for Twilight’s thighs to do the same to her panties, but she actually gasped and closed her legs once his erection was fully visible. In a panic about as rational as the rest of his life Martin shot his eyes down to see if his cock had mutated and grown an eye or something since that morning. But to his confusion, there was nothing but seven inches of flesh and a half-inch of elastic, which he no longer noticed in any way. What was Twilight shocked by?

“Is-Is that going in me?” Twilight stammered, leaning even further back until her head was against the wall.

“I- Uh-” Martin didn't know how to respond because wasn’t sure if she meant his specialized cock-ring or his dick, which he just now remembered was well above average in length and girth.

“I- I understand that contrary to popular belief, vagina’s are naturally elastic but-”

With unseen but great anguish, Martin shut her up by slapping his hands around her thighs…

“Eep! *jerk upright*”

and sliding his hands up her skirt. Despite what she’d let him do earlier, she grimaced at his touch and put her own hands on her lap as if to protect her nethers.

Ultimately though, she put up no real resistance as she felt first his index fingers gripped her throng, then the wet, sticky garment was peeled down her legs, leaving her vagina bare under her skirt just inches from his erection.

All at once, Martin grabbed both of her perfectly rounded and firm tits, pushed her down with a deep kiss, and thrust his cock hilt deep into her once her legs relaxed and opened again. This time, she didn’t scream or gasp, but that only allowed Martin to hear his conscience kick him for defiling the savior of CHS one more time.

And because both of them were distracted, it took them a second to realize just how great they both felt. Martin’s tongue felt warm and reassuring, and her mouth tasted fresh and unique. His hands were ready to play with her loose chest flesh the same entertaining way they’d done with her ass, and her breasts were firm and round and he knew he could make her scream and writhe by attacking her nipples. And at first it felt like her fears of being impaled had been realized, and he felt only guilt and heartache, but after a second she realized she was being filled up and satisfied in the way her fingers had only teased at, and he realized that “naturally elastic” was bullshit, and every part of him was being hit with tightness and stimulation Sonata only dreamed of giving.

They both pulled their heads back and moaned loud enough to deafen the poor animal in the corner. Losing himself to instinct, just like he wanted, Martin pulled his cock back out. But then both of them felt incomplete, so he jammed himself back in, and they both moaned again, her clitoris and his shaft putting them both in momentary state of absolute bliss, which they both wanted to recreate a second later.

Martin pulled out and thrust in. And pulled out and thrust in, and soon the table was creaking and shaking violently beneath them. Twilight gripped the front edge of the desk as tightly as possible and tried to stay upright as he pistoned in and out of her and started fondling and mashing her tits with fierce ferocity. He squeezed them and mashed them together, imagining it was his cock between them, and after while, he began flicking his thumbs across her engorged nipples just as promised.

“Oh! Ugh! Yes! Please! I lu-love you!”

“I *mmmm* love-”

Martin hesitated on his sentence, but resumed after he thrust in again and it felt so good he almost cried.

“-You too!”

How many more times did he bury himself into her practically gushing, but still vice-tight snatch before he was ready to cum? How many times did he poke and tease her nipples before she was? A hundred? A thousand? By the time Twilight couldn’t take being the passive observer anymore and squirted, both their tongues were hanging out in a way Spike might take offense to, and the air of the room was unbreathable with sex and sweat.

As much as he respected her even now, Martin had known from the start there was no way with all his much resented experience and “technological assistance” that he’d explode before she did, which was kind of the point. Part of that experience though, was letting go when he sensed it was appropriate, and so once he felt her blasting against him he lulled his head back, squeezed her breasts until he felt like they might pop, and groaned through his teeth as minutes and minutes of pent upness shot out of him and into Twilight Sparkle’s ripe, open womb.

Their shared orgasm lasted far longer than any either of them had ever been rocked by. Their nether muscles were still pushing it out long after even their impressive reserves had run dry, and for several minutes the world ceased to exist around them as all their brains did was tell them to keep doing what they were doing through pleasure and happiness. The first thing Martin heard coming down from heaven was the thud of bone on wood, and he slowly realigned his rolled-back eyes to look down and see that Twilight had collapsed on the desk with glazed eyes and a dazed smile as if he’d sent her into shock with his penis.

And as soon as he could see clearly, he could feel too, and everything from the waist down hurt. He let go of her breasts and stumbled backwards, his white and yellow juice-coated penis sliding out of her relaxed snatch which the same liquids now dripped from.

“Aw ffffffuck,” he slurred his thoughts as he bent over and put his hands on his knees, fighting to stay standing. “Did I just knock up-”

He looked up at her. Her chest was heaving but otherwise she hadn’t moved. “Probably not. At least, it’d be just my kind of luck for this to be the first time it’s happened with all the cumming inside I- we’ve been doing lately.”

He stood up straight, still examining the comatose Twilight.

“Well, I figured the goddess would last a little longer,” he commented in his head, but without a hint of malice. “But she is distracted now…”

He looked down at the jeans he discarded earlier, thinking of the two rings he kept on him at all times since the shower room fiasco. And then he looked at Twilight, and then at Spike, who thankfully, was napping in the corner. He knew what needed to be done, and just barely hesitated to walk over to his jeans.

“If I do this, am I really killing our last opposition? Is it really the end of both worlds?”

Taking out the ring, he looked over at Twilight one last time. He had no doubt that he could slip it onto her finger and it’d do its job of rewriting a temporarily empty mind better than any siren ring had done before, but how was it possible for an all-unicorn superhero to go down this easily, in both senses of the term?

Walking over to her and lifting up her left hand, he either concluded or reminded himself that this wasn’t the Twilight Sparkle he knew, simply a counterpart who shared her personality and appearance.

“Great,” he pushed the ring on and dropped her hand to step back. “I’m not killing the girl who saved my and the world from a demon, just a girl who walks like her, talks like her, and has the exact same personality and would’ve done the exact same thing as the winged one did if she’d simply been born in a different dimension.”

Twilight’s eyes slowly opened, probably wishing she hadn’t thrown aside her glasses.

“Conscience cleared. At least I got to see a school that isn’t filled with sadistic nymphomaniacs while I was here.”

“What was your impression of me when you first saw me?” the pale skinned woman asked from behind him.

Celestia, as it turns out, was an amatuer at perverted principalling. Two hours later in the basement of Crystal Prep less than 100 feet from Twilight's laboratory was a heavily insulated room where leather-cuffed manacles hung from the ceiling, the key to which only Abacus Cinch had.

“Bitch? Hag?” the good principal strolled around in front of him, giving him another good look at the leather corset, thong, gloves and thigh high boots she’d had had stashed in the room, along with the black silk thong covering Martin’s crotch, the red ball stuffed in his mouth, and the riding crop she held in her hands.

Martin couldn’t answer, but against the soreness of wrists and his feet which he had to stand on the toes of so that he wasn’t hanging in mid air, he did consider the question.

Because they’d arrived after school was over, he hadn’t seen much of the Crystal Prep students body or faculty, but at first glance principal Cinch didn’t hold a candle to Cadance, Twilight, or the two boys that’d passed him in the hallways with her slim form, short hair and obvious mole.

Seeing her now though, in the dimly lit room, wearing probably the most provocative outfit in history, it was clear that even with tits or ass invisible compared to Twilight or any of the sirens, Crystal Prep had the same curse of universal beauty as CHS.

“Oh,” he responded, earning him a stinging slap across the cheek with her whip. He shut his eyes and turned his head away in pain, but he didn’t make a sound. He’d had worse.

“Don’t lie to me boy,” she pressed her crop against his bare chest. “Every adolescent scamp thinks I’m a monster when they first meet me. But I’ve made far more insolent than you beg to cum inside me in this room.”

“So I take it that’s not your honey I’m smelling from these boxers then?” Martin thought, unphased by her boasts. “Seriously, at least I’m allowed to wash my toy outfit.”

“I may be the senior of the whores your school calls principals by a decade or so… ” she circled around the back of him, putting her silken elbow-high gloved hand on his shoulder.

“Call the woman who sent me to your office before her niece's a whore. Rainbow Dash was right about you,” Martin sniped again, but he did tense up a bit as she slowly ran her crop along the inside of his leg.

“-But I still have needs.”

Suddenly, she pulled back and struck him on the butt full force. The thong offered even less protection that he thought it would, and another even louder *smack* echoed throughout the former electrical room while he bit into his gag in piercing pain. The attack caused him to lose his balance on his tip toes, and the cuffs and chains caught his entire weight, causing them to bite his wrists even harder.

Cinch grinned, watching him flail in his chains like an animal, and desperately stand back up. She only had to drug the tea she offered naughty but cute students who were sent to her office about half the time. Martin was one of many children who’d followed her down to her playroom, stripped down, and even put himself in the cuffs willingly. But once she actually followed through with her promise to show them a good time, they’d squirm and scream and beg like toddlers. They never told on her though. They’d all been taught their place by the end, and she’d threaten to destroy their futures just to be safe.

Once he stood upright again though, she walk around to his front again, and knelt down.

“Needs which young little sluts like you are happy to provide.”

She set down her crop, and pulled down the tight thong, bringing his erection out into the open. Once she saw the strange band encircling his cock, she paused and pursed her lips.

“Alright. I’ll admit I don’t know what this* is,” she flicked his cock up with her finger, which sent a shiver through his body. Seeing this, she smiled and decided whatever strange medical condition he had wouldn’t get in the way of her fun. She took her cock in her glove and swallowed it in her mouth. The feeling of saliva, heat, and softness was almost blase to Martin, so he closed his eyes and focused on remaining upright as she began to suck.

Contrary to her cold, demeaning demeanor during their foreplay, Cinch was quite passionate in her blowjob. She dimmed her eyes and and pumped long and slow up and down the upper half of his member, all the while her tongue brushed up and down his tip to a tickling effect.

His ass and cheek still stung, and his feet ached from being flexed so long, but after she started squeezing his base with her gloved fist he would spasm in his shackles an average of once every eight seconds.

She was no professional, but she had him warming up in a respectable amount time. And while she got closer, she got noisier and sloppier, moaning and lapping her tongue all over his cockhead like a madman in an attempt to lick up all his precum.

Martin felt the pinches just behind his balls that meant he was about to blow it. His wrists were feeling slightly better now, and he figured they could withstand another drop if he did fall down.

“Well, way to ruin your dominatrix image,” Martin thought as he felt the gears turning and fluids moving up. But just before the final gear…

“mmmmmm,*pop*”

...she slid off his dick and let go, allowing the saliva coated organ to spring back up into his stomach.

“Nevermind,” he commented, and groaned loudly, biting his ball gag until his jaw threatened to break and thrusting impotently into the air. Then he went limp briefly, the manacles catching his wrists and amputating them again. The pain of denial though was one of the few sexual pains he wasn’t used to, and his loins hurt so badly it took him a bit to gather his thoughts, and haul himself back up to look at Cinch with the exact dim, defeated expression she wanted.

“Not yet boy,” she said, then stood up. “The first lesson we’ve just learned today is that your satisfaction is in my hands,” she put her thumbs through through the strands of her throng, and slowly peeled them down, exposing the most colorful part of her body in a swollen, dripping snatch. She didn’t have any pubic hair either, probably because purple on white wasn’t a very arousing combination.

“And the second,” she stepped out of her underwear and stepped up to him putting her hands on his shoulders. “Is going to be how to put me in a more generous mood.”

Martin didn’t actually do much in the sex that followed. She quickly positioned his cock with her left hand and hopped up onto it. It was a good thing her boots were high heeled, or else they'd have pulled the ceiling down with their combined weight. Martin still had to stumble his feet backwards and press hard on his toes, hoping that she didn’t inadvertently swing them too far backwards or forwards.

Cinch moaned at his girth as she slid down him, but while being in a warm, safe place again was a great relief to his now hypersensitive cock, Martin stayed silent.

She steadied herself on his shoulders again, and with the slightest perk ups on the tips of her toes she pumped herself up and down on him.

“Mmmm. Ahhh! Yes!” she very nearly screamed. “We’re going to have lots of fun together, boy.”

But then she realized how he was writhing again, and even thrusting back a little.

“But don’t you dare orgasm until I have,” she warned him with a calm tone that showed why she’d built him up with her mouth in the first place. Martin couldn’t help himself. Her snatch couldn’t compare to her student’s, which was fresh in his memory, but neither his attained stamina nor his ring could keep him going after he’d gotten so close so recently.

Every thrust which gravity worked to bring straight to her cervix was like a rock being thrown at a window. Each crack built on the last, and when he saw the principal’s smile through when a bounce through his eyes open, he didn’t even try to fight back.

“Nnnn!” his moan was short and without power. His actual climax was just the opposite. He buried himself inside her and came with twice his normal power, blasting into her like a firehose.

“Mmmm,” Cinch moaned and rolled her eyes back briefly. She wasn’t ready to cum, but she couldn't contain herself at the menting sensation of sperm inside her either.

His toes and fists balled at his orgasm. As always, he’d had worse, but he knew when a mistress was angry or simply in a cruel mood, and actually somewhat tried to savor the painfully good feeling, knowing from everything he’d seen in the chest earlier what was coming next.

“Sirens, principals, students, goddesses (sort of), am I doing this to the whole world?”

When his gates finally closed, Martin slumped in his restraints for a third and final time, his cock simply dropping out of her. Cinch stood tall in front of him, and picked up his chin to force him to look at her.

“What did I just say?” she chastised in pretend anger.

“Oh for fuck’s sake just hit me with the paddles, you don’t need an excuse,” he thought.

Cinch didn’t disappoint. By the time Martin limped his was back to Luna’s car, it was closer to sunrise, and a check of his bottom revealed at least five different red and white outlines, including a heart, a crop, and a Crystal Prep insignia.

Author's Note

Kratos: (Verb) To attack or injure a god or deity.

Setting It Up

“Move, mutt!” Suri Polomare commanded as she kicked the only non-Shadowbolt occupant of the hallway, the annoying nerdy bitch Twilight Sparkle’s dog, out of the way. Spike yelped as the giantess’s massive leg collided with his side and he was thrown to the side several inches which felt like a mile. Skidding to the floor with his whole left half in agony, he whimpered loudly, but still scampered against the wall in time to avoid the rest of the uniformed mob as they walked to their first event.

“Was that really-” Fleur Dis Lee began.

“Absolutely!” Indigo Zap shouted over her. “We’re in the Competitive Zone!” she pumped fists in front of her rapidly, as if already beating up Wondercolts. “And as a member of the academy community it’s Twilight Sluttle’s pet’s patriotic duty to facilitate us!”

“Twilight’s contributed more to this year’s Friendship Games than any of us,” Sour Sweet spoke up. “-Just by telling us where and what to win at! Uuuugh!” she groaned. Twilight Sparkle was useless to the Crystal Prep “community”, and the praise and good treatment Cinch and Cadance had been giving her recently just made it more obvious.

Approximately four months ago, Adagio Dazzle, Sonata Dusk and Aria Blaze had enrolled at Canterlot High School. Now, thanks in no small part to the efforts of seven attractive male students who’d they’d taken a break from singing to control with cursed necklaces, they’d run out of beautiful women who they thought would serve them well with a siren’s average personality and powers, which similarly enchanted rings provided. Out of sheer boredom waiting for the portal to Equestria to open (they’d admitted as much), the Friendship Games against Crystal Prep Academy, whose Dean Principal, and and, though it pained every slave's heart to say, brightest student had already joined the 30+ family of sirens, had been arranged to continue as scheduled. Twelve “Shadowbolts”, eight of which were female, had been selected to represent Crystal Prep, not for their athletic ability or intelligence as they were told, but simply for their bodies. The night before the games were set to start, the Shadowbolts had arrived at CHS by bus. Fancy Pants, Royal Pin, Jet Set, Neon Lights and Trenderhoof had all been told to report to classroom 205 for orientation while Fleur Dis Lee, Indigo Zap, Sugarcoat, Lemon Zest, Sour Sweet, Upper Crust and Suri Polomare had been told the gym was where their even vaguer objective was.

“Ah. The gymnasium,” Upper Crust looked to the double doors to the group’s left, which Indigo and Suri had recognized too and was already pushing open. “I’ve never been here before but I highly doubt they’ll have any- oof!”

Attempting to enter through the door’s bottleneck, Upper Crust bumped into the back of Sugarcoat, who had bumped into Suri, who had frozen in place holding the door open.

Behind the stunned Suri and Indigo, the other girls either slipped between them or pushed the doors all the way open to fan out behind them and get a better view. First, they all saw a row of small beds. And then they saw the colors of flesh, and then blue and then a variety of hair colors and finally red and black, which caused them to realize what they were looking at.

Soarin’ didn’t know if the sound of the doors opening and girls coming in was good or bad. Morally, it was bad, but as soon as Celestia had held her ring in his and Macintosh’s faces and told them to put on the necklaces which had invaded his mind, twisted his will and stole his body like an invading twisty stealy thing, he’d been trying to lock his moral judgements away in his head. He’d fish them back out as soon as being opposed to bashing a poor boy’s head against the floor or helping demons corrupt his friends by raping him actually mattered. In the meantime though, he was getting to fuck almost every girl he’d ever had a fantasy about, and after being tied to a bed for half an hour he could use a change of pace.

Braeburn had a similar opinion of his bondage, but raised with honesty, honor and family, he was less inclined towards the coming activity. Of course, this wasn’t his first rodeo since becoming a slave. Poor choice of idioms, but he could handle a few biting leather restraints, teeth-threatening-ring gags, or sore penises. What he couldn’t handle were the blindfolds and the thongs. He’d grown up on farms where the sun and moon were always illuminating the world around him, and he was always hugged by warm and concealment flannel and leather. A leather padding over his eyes and nothing but blue Wonderbolt-themed boxers over his manhood, near sundown no less, struck uncertainty, fear and vulnerability not surpassed since his original capture deep into his heart.

“And now the poor Cristul Purrep Gals’re gonna show me the end’a this dark tunnel’n make me wish they hadn’t,” he lamented in his head while tear pools formed under his blindfold. “Damn me an’ this sexy body a mine to the hottist cornurs a hell!”

Every boy in the row of seven was either scared, relieved or both, except one. In the exact center bed, all Martin Saylin was was ready. Being tied up, being ridden, corrupting innocent girls, he’d done it all before. Was it wrong? Did he like it? If ever directly asked either of those questions without magical interference (which didn’t seem like a probable event), he’d probably give the expected answers, but with all the emotional backing of a statue of a mannequin of a comatose person. He hadn’t tried to completely detach his consciousness from the necklace’s will like Thunderlane had, but he was the only one of the slaves who by now had the experience both as a slave, and with general misery to say; “I may not like it, but I’m ready.”

“Shadowbolts!” a loud, powerful voice cried out from the stage, startling the Crystal Prep girls for a second time, and instantly pulling their gazes to its source on the gym’s stage, where instead of the (obvious) supervillain some of them expected to see after being presented with such a sight, there was only Principal Luna, Principal Cinch, and Twilight Sparkle.

Every single one of their minds was flooded with confusion and fear. Sympathy and compassion, especially for CHS students, were strong suits for none of them, but when they saw children their own age gagged, blindfolded, almost naked and tied up compromising, their instinctive fear was being next. Seeing their sociopathic principal, aloof classmate and second greatest enemy standing on the stage with confident expressions did little to relieve them either.

Cinch could read her students expressions clear as day even from close to 40 feet away. She’d always known her student body had never liked her on a personal level, and her opinion of rich brats had worsened (something she’d previously thought impossible) after she’d been freed by her ring and learned what true power felt like. But the difference between her and the CHS adults before their rings was that she’d always understood fear and respect held far more sway than sentiment. When she stepped to the microphone that Luna hadn’t used and started to explain, she knew they’d listen no matter their feelings.

“You’re all very confused,” she understated tersely, picking up from Luna. The Shadowbolts’ expressions varied from continued shock to outright anger, and amused Cinch. Since she’d become a siren the anguish of students to her had gone from empty threats to potential meals. Nevertheless, she got to the point: “But every one of the boys in front of you volunteered for this morale building exercise,”

The Shadowbolts all turned their heads back to… who the specially-ordered boxers told them we're the Wondercolts. Their faces were hard to read through blindfolds and ballgags, but there weren’t any smiles even on the edges of their cheeks were it would have been possible, and seeing their (admittedly impressive) male bodies so uncovered made the temperature in the gym drop several degrees for some of the girls. They were all skeptical of the boy’s supposed consent to be in this mutually embarrassing situation.

“And morale building exercise?” Upper Crust thought and nearly muttered. “What kind of morale building exercise-”

“And we encourage, but do not require you all to accept Canterlot’s generous offer and participate as well,” Cinch finished, her voice and composure actively becoming more hostile as she followed script and used the words “encourage” and “volunteer” in regards to her students.

“Oh, that kind,” all the Shadowbolts, save Indigo who had already figured it out, thought when a second later they figured out what “participation”, with trussed up cute boys probably meant.

Twilight watched all seven of Crystal Prep’s female representatives stare fixedly at the teenagers tied to beds in front of them as she stepped up to the microphone, extremely content with herself. Questions were no doubt swimming though her classmates heads, questions and doubts. She’d estimated, based on the research she’d done into shock and reactions to the unexpected, particularly of the sexual nature, that it’d by roughly 30% “Is this some kind of dream?”, 50% “Is this some kind of prank?”, 15% “How did this happen?” but only 5% “What about our male classmates upstairs?”. She’d never have claimed to have calculated anything perfectly as a stupid weak nerd girl, but she say it now and it felt great to be honest about her skills. Of course extended research and studying was the definition of boring to her now, and she couldn’t care less how her new powers and magic in general worked so long as they did their job, but the stage was forty feet diagonally away from the nearest bed, ten feet more than the maximum range of the seven necklaces that were already working her classmates’ minds, activating their libido and concentrating it on the wearer. When the Shadowbolts heads began turning back and forth between the stage and the row of beds, that meant that they were already being affected.

Flash Sentry heard voices he didn’t recognize whispering and murmuring in front of him. He told himself they were discussing what bullshit this whole situation was, and were going to untie him and rip off his necklace any second now, and he savored it like he savored seeing Twilight again and knowing his savior and goddess had returned to free him from this nightmare. His weakening bladder when one of them slowly walked up to his bedside showed how much he believed it though.

Twilight’s smile grew even wider seeing how quickly the girls were coming in line. Questions of privacy, intimacy and presupposition were no doubt curbing their attractions to whichever boy’s jewel caught them first, but her script had been written to remove legality as a factor. Even as the Shadowbolts’ rational minds told them to worry about doing it in front of people or whether or not they could enjoy fucking a stranger from their rival school while he was blind, paralyzed and mute, they found their eyes drawn to the seven different crotches, chests and obscured faces in front of them.

Indigo was the first to even take a step closer to the beds in several minutes. She didn’t know his name (obviously), but his blue, spiky hair and medium-built body resonated with her somehow, and she walked to his side between beds to further examine him.

The others watched her for a bit, expecting her to say something in conclusion. But all she did was grow a smile, and run her fingers down the boy’s arm causing him to shake so violently the bed screeched on the floor.

The Shadowbolts erupted into laughter at his cartoonishly exaggerated response to being touched.

“Dear god, what’s happening out there?” Whooves wondered in shear terror. It wasn’t like him to fear something he couldn’t see understand, but he’d wanted to solve and explore the great unknown, not have it rape him! “No,” he commanded himself, but even in his head it was so weak and afraid it sounded more like a suggestion. “You do know what’s going on. Something horrible and sexual. They’re going to rape these poor boys just like the females always do now.”
He tugged on his bonds and bit his gag briefly. He just wanted to feel like he was pulling against something tangible, as opposed to his mind control that left him pointlessly walking the hallways, occasionally having sex with his former friends, but completely unable to learn or try anything, and bored absolutely shitless. At least they’d had the consideration to send Martin after Derpy. She could never see him when he was pent up and angry like this.

Twilight was pleased to see that they were in an enlightened enough mood to react with humor to their male counterpart’s distress, and looked back at Cinch and Luna with an expression that wordlessly told them it was coming along swimmingly. Cinch was annoyed by her student’s unprofessional attitude, Luna returned the smile, but either way Twilight turned back to the gym and concluded their introduction.

“Please choose any partner you wish. We’ll return later at a deliberately ambiguous time with souvenir rings for you all.”

“Tomorrow the real games will begin,” Luna shouted after them. “But today, have fun!”

A few of the Crystal Prep girls watched the principals and the organizer turn and walk out of sight backstage, but once they were alone in the large, spacious gymnasium with only their fellow contestants, they all stared at the Wondercolts. They all saw it now: this really was just a morale building exercise, and there was no harm in a little naughty fun. If these seven tarts didn’t want to wait til’ tomorrow to get dominated and fucked by Shadowbolt superiority, that was on them. One by one the boys were selected.

Lemon Zest didn’t even think about it. The white pseudo-mohawk had style to go with his obvious athleticism. She practically hopped onto his bed.

Feeling the pace had been quickened, Upper Crust looked back at Whooves and dashed the few paces necessary to reach his side and grasp his turned head to show that she was claiming him. She figured several of her classmates would want him to, but although she was normally great at explaining her choices, it was only when she was looking into his heavily obscured face that she rationalized understood her desire for him; of all the candidates, he was the only one whose physique was only complimented by muscle, burdened by it.

Fleur Dis Lee was confused by her friend’s choice. This was all about sex without context or consequence, and so the impossibly handsome and muscular blonde, who had been so considerate as to negate and even mock his own physicality with his adorable bondage, was the most obvious choice. She walked for him, fully prepared to stroke and caress his every inch before satisfying herself on him, but did so at such a calm pace Sugarcoat was already climbing over Soarin by the time she arrived.

“So you signed up for this huh? Get some free sex from us?” Braeburn heard an approaching voice say. “Clever,” it remarked directly to his right, but he was next to Martin so he wasn’t sure it was referring to him until it grabbed his balls through his boxers crotch with an audible slap, followed by great pain that jerked him up in his bed as far was his bonds would allow, which was about three inches. “Goad angry badasses into fucking you silly while you’re tied up. Fucking brilliant!”

When Braeburn was done crying out in his gag, Martin turned back on his ambient listening to get a sense of the entire room (a skill which he admitted had improved greatly since he’d started getting blindfolded consistently), only to hear a single pair of clopping flats coming towards him against six different frequencies of either bodies shifting on mattresses, hands caressing bodies, or voices taunting those beneath them (pun intended).

“Picked last, huh?” was his only thought as Suri Polomare stepped up onto his creaky bed between his legs and knelt down. “Not fit enough? Not unique enough?”

“So what’s your name sweet cheeks?” Suri asked him, leaning forwards and deciding the best way to get at his cock.

“Whuh? Uh, Harthin,” he replied, deliberately minimal.

“Martin, hmm?” she confirmed, and began fumbling with her blazer. “Well I was never much one for passion or sentimentality it came to this sort of thing but I think we can both enjoy this.”

Ms. Pommell threw her unbuttoned blazer over her shoulder and moved onto her tie. Three beds down Macintosh’s companion was caught in a similar process.

“My name’s Fleur,” she said in a soft but confident tone. “Fleur Dis Lee and yes, I fully appreciate the effort you’ve gone to to help with the unity of our respective schools.”

“Eeee- eeeehut,” Macintosh replied. His quiet personality and submissive nature served him well in his new life. Otherwise, Fleur was horny enough then that it may well have been within within his mental and physical power to tear off his weak restraints and say what he was actually thinking:

“Getaway from mah manhood! Getaway from me! Everehbudy acts lak this all is somethin’ normal! I act lak it’s somethin’ normal but it ain’t! Mah sister’s evil, Granny and Bloom’re zombies, this whole school’s either evil or zombies and it’s all becus ah let girls sit on mah cock! Run!”

Suri’s bra flew off and joined the pile behind her. By now she was too wet to even remotely care if her classmates saw her bare chest in this brightly lit open space.

“Nnnnnow,” she reached under his boxers, which had been ordered two sizes too large to allow them to be pulled down until his whole crotch was bare, which was exactly what she did. “No erection, hmm?” she commented. This was the first time Martin noticed too. “I’ll fix that.”

She took his flaccidity in her hands and gave it a few good squeezes. “Is that for a medical condition or something?” she asked noticing his ring.

“Iths for-”

“Don’t care.”

Soon he was hard enough for her to lean down and take his member between her medium sized, but still soft and by now warm breasts. Martin didn’t even flinch at the sudden feeling, but Suri didn’t notice this sign of inexperience.

“Whoever you are in there,” she began to stimulate him, mostly with quick, short pistons up and down his hardening shaft. “You do seem pretty hot.”

“Mmmm!” Martin thrust up once to keep her deluded. A tit-job was still a tit-job though, and what started as just normal skin-scraping skin quickly started pulling blood to his shaft until it was bulging and first tingling, then washing with pleasure. His tip was left neglected and impotently leaking precum at first, but Suri soon gave it the same care Rarity had by sticking her tongue out and licking up his length and across his head with every thrust so that soon her cleavage was a wet mess

“Buht, mmm, it’s a good thing you’re the one tied up, sweetie.”

Before long, all the Wondercolts were getting ridden, sat of, blown, and teased in seven different ways, and even air the massive room meant to seat potentially thousands was a mess of moans and grunts and the occasional snide comment.

The first gargling noises though, came from Soarin, who was now seriously regretting his prior excitement. Sugarcoat had- too easy. Her thighs squeezed his head tightly and she ground back and forth. It was all he could do to simply stick his tongue out through his gag and try to get into her snatch, but she ground so furiously it was a wonder (no pun intended) that he apparently landed enough blows on her cunny to make her eventually clench her thighs even tighter and explode after only a few minutes.

“Eeeeuuuuhhh!” she finally stopped grinding to roll her eyes back and sing the song of orgasm. She’d never been eaten out before, but if it was always this good she’d found herself a new hobby. Between her legs though, while the blindfold protected his eyes the open ring gag proved a deathtrap. All the pigtailed girl’s juices flowed directly into his mouth and down his throat. He choked and coughed on the first few mouthfuls, but such pauses only allowed more in. He was literally drowning in honey, and while a more literal take on the situation was his second least favourite dream (the first favourite was being beaten up by apple pies), with his mouth forced open there was no swallowing his way out of this situation. It was all he could do to clench his throat and think about how good a life he’d had while his mouth filled up completely, demanding him to take a breath and accept his fate.

With her effective combining of blow and titjobs, Ms Pommel proved… adequate to Martin. She’d like to think it was the other way around, but her ministrations lacked method, and the entire ordeal was nothing but wetness and vigor, not that there was anything wrong with that. Martin’s cock was stiff as a statue as she sloppily polished it with her tongue and breasts. Every time she went down she was tempted to simply swallow his cock and suck him dry, but she knew it would give her a confidence to finish him with just her tits and tongue.

Martin warmed up gradually. Her wet, pillowy cleavage and slashing tongue felt great, but they were more scratching their way to his orgasm than melting it. It came eventually though. Suri was starting to wonder if his medical condition made orgasm impossible for him by the time it did, but it came. Suri was so caught up in her pumping that she didn’t even realized it had happened until one of her licks caught a thick, salty substance on her tongue. She stopped and, still not totally used to the taste, nearly coughed. But she cringingly took it into her mouth and swallowed, and and pulled her head back to watch, in partial amazement, the white hot rivulets gushing out of his cock and spilling onto her already sopping cleavage, all while Martin himself was impossibly totally motion and expressionless below her.

Thunderlane came seconds later. Lemon Zest had been bouncing up and down on him with just the right mix of speed and power, and without Martin’s cockring he couldn’t hold out very long. Zest moaned in acceptance of the warm flood, but kept pumping, feeling her own orgasm wasn’t far off. The white-haired athlete barely noticed though. No sooner had the necklace originally intended for Sandalwood gone around his neck and his head went through the blender of learning who his mistresses were than he’d declared the boy who got the erections (for all three girls he’d captured) and told his parents everything was fine when he came home everyday wasn’t Thunderlane. Thunderlane was trapped in his head, and his guilt, or lack thereof, and memories of playing soccer, doing homework and looking at colleges with his female friends would be safe even if the other boy was in control for the rest of his life. Which frankly was looking more and more probable every day.

“Tacos?” Rarity asked in bewilderment at the revealed contents of the food cart in front of her. “You expect me… to listen to General Adagio’s speech… eating tacos?”

She looked up at Twilight Sparkle and Macintosh (but mostly Twilight) who had apparently thought it appropriate to provide not just any meal-sized refreshments, but tacos during an important speech, with a look that said “seriously?”. But then there was a crunch and a burp in the chair next to her, and she looked to her right to see Pinkie Pie happily rubbing her tummy and licking sauce off her lips.

“Mmmm!” she hummed contently. “I hope the next monsters that magically implant their personalities and tastes into my brain like cake. Then it’ll taste like, double awesome! ...Right?” she looked to Twilight for confirmation.

Rarity didn’t question how the lightning-quick party animal had already eaten one when she’d never taken her eyes off the cart. The fashionista felt Rainbow Dash stand up beside her.

“C’mon Pinkie,” the athlete snarked, walking away from her front row seat on the bleachers to grab her own chip-wrapped piece of heaven. “If tacos tasted any better these days…” she stared Twilight in the eyes with a devious grin “...I’d slap a fuck-necklace on Twilight and make’r cook these all day. *chomp* oh gaugh! *gulp* I think I might do that anyway.”

Twilight smiled and bowed her head, then turned up to the bleachers full of sirens, who were all hungrily eyeing her and Big Mac’s past few hours of work in the cafeteria.

“Tacos! Two for each!”

Rarity, who was currently acknowledging how little she tasted non-emotion based food nowadays, heard a second chomp and burp from Pinkie Pie. Twilight stepped forward and turned around to hold her arm at the steaming contents of the food cart while roughly 40 mind controlled teenage girls and five full-grown women broke character to come down from their seats behind her.

“Get them while they’re-”

She stopped as she saw the unholy quaternity walking through the same bleacher doors the Shadowbolts had the day before. Martin, Adagio, Sonata and Aria all stopped to when they saw the mob of their conquests come down from the gym’s seating and amass around the cart.

Adagio was annoyed. Here she was, about to a deliver a speech as elegant and convincing as the songs she now somewhat missed singing, and Celestia had tried to upstage her again (she saw how when she looked at Twilight and Twilight looked away nervous. Celestia had told her to do this) by making sure they were all eating a meal-sized refreshment while she gave it.

Martin was surprised. Not by the tacos or even the sheer number of his former classmates and friends that were returning to their seats with them. Said seats only accounted for... maybe one tenth of the total capacity of the gymnasium bleachers, and it made him remember the hundreds of unattractive or underage currently hidden away in the classrooms he’d just walked passed, hidden away until the event was concluded and they could resume keeping up the school’s masquerade and arguing with each other whenever a siren got hungry but none of the slaves were around. He’d always know this was how much sirens cared about their former families and people they didn’t find hot, but it was jarring to see it so plainly for the first time after he’d become accustomed to seeing the mind controlled ones walking the halls like nothing was wrong (which was sort of the point). It also begged the question: after they’d taken over, where they were gonna put the majority of two worlds?

Aria was proud. An entire school: their allies, their fucktoys, or their cattle. And she’d never been the biggest fan of Mexican food but she found it titillating to see all the losers who thought they were their sisters mill about in imitation of one of the true Dazzlings.

Sonata was hungry. She took a few steps forwards but Adagio put her hand out and stopped her.

“They can choke on Celestia’s bribery,” she stated angrily, but gained a cruel smile when she saw Twilight’s dismay at how they weren’t having any. “I’m going to remind them who brought them all here.”

With that, she turned and walked for the microphone, which had been moved to the center of the gym for the purposes of this event. She’d have preferred they use the stage; stages always suited her better, but they’d thrown this together at the suggestion of Flash Sentry that morning, and they could conquer the world and fuck for hours but ordering slaves to set up folding chairs was too much trouble.

“Sirens!” the microphone shrieked into the room but by now most were already sitting back down and facing her. Some were excited to hear about how great they were again, some were impatient to get back to classes, but they all made some effort to listen.

“Ahem!” Adagio warmed up, trying to remember the key points from that morning and lamenting that speeches didn’t come naturally to them as songs. She opened her mouth, but suddenly Aria snatched the microphone stand out from under her and began speaking.

“So how many of you are there?” Aria asked the audience proudly. To her right, Adagio was still staring with (what Aria saw as) idiotic shock at what her sister had literally and metaphorically stolen from her. In a few seconds she’d get angry and try to grab the stand back like a ten-year old in front of their entire army. “How many stupid human cunts are now badass Dazzlings getting everything they deserve.”

Right on cue, Adagio’s shock turned to burning anger, not just at her sister and subordinate trying to upstage her while Sonata, Cutie Pie and the whole school were watching, but at how she’d referred to what we're really puppet-sirens as actual Dazzlings. The leader of the three (or maybe only two now) real Dazzlings swiped the stand back into her hands with so much speed it threatened to snap in half, and clutched it by her chest. Aria didn’t resist. She was never much one for speeches, but she was one for fucking with her oh-so predictable older sister.

Before she continued with her speech, Adagio noticed that Aria’s comment about their past lives being those of stupid human cunts hadn’t been very well received. A few, like Trixie, Rainbow Dash and the Shadowbolts had recognized the claim validity and had wide grins, but most, notably Rarity and strangely Twilight (who cared so little for her life before her ring now that Spike was starving in a street somewhere) were looking combinations of shocked, dismayed and angry. Adagio needed to recover this fast with the good news.

“Well soon there’ll be a million times this many sirens and a billion times the cattle and slaves because Sunset Shimmer....” she gestured to the proudly smirking flame-haired girl in the first row. “-had contacted Equestrian Alicorn Princess Twilight Sparkle on the other side of the mirror.”

She paused, waiting for a cheer, but instead almost the whole audience turned to Sunset, asking her how she’d done it and what she’d said to Twilight. Adagio’s face turned dark again at someone else hogging the spotlight. Behind her, Martin’s attention and interest levels skyrocketed to heights not seen in a long time in response to such important news at what he’d thought was just going to be another “pat ourselves on the back then fuck Martin” event, and he felt like he was actually standing in the room with them again. Adagio quickly elaborated.

“Using a special journal with a link to Equestria which she only now thought to tell us about just because the portal’s almost open,” she growled in frustration.

“Special journal with a link to Equestria?” Martin thought, now with more questions than answers. “Was that what that was? And she’d been sitting on it this whole time?” He looked to human Twilight in the audience. “Are you- is she- did I watch them write it? Are they on their way now? Are-”

“-Princess Twilight had been informed that there are several Equestrian creatures that have been stranded on this pathetic planet, and that she should be ready with the three other princesses I’ve heard about to greet us when the portal opens in what she told us will be only two more months!”

This time, the crowd reacted expectedly by looking amongst themselves and murmuring. They’d all heard about how they had counterparts as horses with horns and wings on the other side of the mirror, and more or less come to accept it. The concept of actually going to this other world and meeting those pony versions of themselves, especially for Celestia, Luna, and Cadence, who knew there they were actual goddesses, was still such a daunting concept that most tried not to think about it too much.

The Dazzlings couldn’t really believe it either. The stories they'd heard about what their fifth sexiest puppet Sunset Shimmer had done and how their current lieutenants, most of whom they’d captured without any sort of fight, had defeated her just had to be bullshit. And even Aria, who liked them better than the others, could never see the two principals, the dean, or the nerd as the Alicorn guardians of their homeworld. How they’d handle it when the two groups were together was one of the logistical questions Adagio and Aria chalked up to “no big deal once we have the princesses”.

Speaking of which, Martin had been so deep in thought he was startled Adagio looked at him.

“It’s then that our greatest servants will show them what real magic looks like.”

“Seduce and get raped by horses, after I’ve already been turned into a horse myself. Yep. It’s gonna happen. And I guess I already knew that,” Martin thought, supposing it was time to drift back into his normal semiconscious state now that he thought he’d heard everything new. But Adagio didn’t turn back to the crowd. In fact, she let go of the microphone to face him fully, and picking up on her queue Sonata and Aria, once again in sisterly harmony now that sex was involved, also turned around and started to approach him.

“But before even Cutie Pie, who puts all the other toys to shame, can attempt such an difficult task...” the lead Dazzling said as she walked away from the microphone and up to the stationary Martin, and her sisters circled around behind him. Their first boytoy was fully alert waiting for what they’d spring on him next, but was more curious-in-a-bad-way than outright scared. Despite their apparent confidence, what could they have been arguing about when he came into the office earlier that could possibly surprise or hurt him anymore?

“...He needs to show us his fighting spirit!” Adagio announced evilly, reaching around his neck to the clasp added after Pinkie cut the original magically-sealed chain.

“Well, that I suppose,” Martin answered his previous question in the split second between the necklace being pulled off him and his mind being free, and prepared himself for what had happened last time.

His world was about to turn rightside up again, and in the span of a single second all his obligations, all his obedience, all his anything that had to do with the dozens of girls in the room who all currently held his remote with their status as sirens, would melt away. He braced himself for warmth, vigor, and genuine emotional happiness to wash over him…

“But why would I have to brace myself for that? And why is it taking so long?”

Returning to the present, he looked at Adagio a foot in front of him and saw both her smug grin and the red stoned gold-chained crudely repaired necklace which he despised the sight of just as much, in her hands and away from his skin. And yet he was still feeling the perpetual dread and confinement that had long faded into white noise for him.

“It’s okay Cutie Pie,” Sonata assured from behind him as he felt his bare upper chest in disbelief. “You don’t need it anymore. You don’t have to be ashamed to love us!”

The unholy quaternity’s interactions were just barely audible from the bleachers, but every siren could see what was happening. The second emotional food channel in the room (which many of them were just now realizing was a shadow of it’s former self) had been cut off, and Cutie Pie was free within dashing distance of the gym door and neck-snapping distance of their leaders. Yet so long as Big Mac (who only about eight of the room’s occupants found sexy but all puppet-sirens found tasty) was feeding them, making them stronger, faster, and cooler than any almost any mortal, even the most logical and/or cynical among their ranks couldn’t be worried much. Either that, or they were feeling too lazy right now to care much. Besides, most of them had outdone Sonata mentally and figured out why Martin’s necklace had been removed, so what Adagio shouted next came as no surprise.

“Well?” she tucked the necklace in her back pocket. “Run!”

Martin looked at her face again, still trying to understand why he didn’t feel any different. Did the spell’s effects become permanent over time?

To test, he asked himself if needed to do what Sonata or Aria or Adagio said, just like he did during the gradual but temporary emancipation that happened whenever he was seducing a girl. He concluded he did, but it was his explanation why that confused him, namely because it went beyond “I just have to.”

“-because she’s in front of me, they’re behind me, there’s forty more close by, and all I’ll accomplish by running or fighting back is a serious beat-fucking.”

Again, it had only been one or two seconds, but that was enough time for some serious self-rumination that told him the necklace was gone for now (the fact that he was still standing in place after being given a direct order was evidence enough of that), but that something, obviously the circumstances and not him, had changed and he wasn’t going to run because he was afraid.

“I said run!” Adagio commanded again, though still uncharacteristically un-angry. It wasn’t his fault his mind was fully human again and therefore couldn’t be counted on to do anything right.

“C’mon piss- *yawn* breath!” Spitfire shouted from the audience. “Showe’m the same time you *ugh* showed Dash and me!”

“Umm- uh-” Martin stuttered for a second. “No,” he said in a normal tone of voice unfit for standing up to demons. “I’m not gonna run.”

Adagio cocked an eyebrow, and Sonata smiled appreciatively, then reached out and took a step towards him.

“Awww. Congratulations Cutie Pie, you’ve passed your final-”

“Shut it Sonata!”
“Shut it Sonata!”
“Shut it Sonata!”

Adagio, Aria and Martin all shouted in annoyed unison, freezing her in place.

“You can-”

Martin paused, as in his mind the theoretical end of his sentence spiralled into thoughts about everything the Dazzlings had done and we're going to do, which in turn morphed into a single idea for what he could do. All that had taken less than a second, and he spent the next two with his eyes up in his head (in thought), and considering it.

At first, he tried to write it off as just another one of his escape fantasies, but it was very straightforward and he was having it while there were no necklaces, no songs, no ropes and no hands, (yet).

He was afraid to try it. Running would be bad enough but if they caught him in the act of this they’d- give him a slightly longer and rougher beat-fucking. It’d be pain and orgasms, because that was all they dealt in, and everybody knew he could handle copious amounts of those by now. He glanced towards the door, and thought about the room’s position in relation to him. It was a long shot; Spitfire was right in that running had never worked out for him before. His legs and lips seemed as immobile and not-his-own as ever as every bit of apathy he’d accumulated since the Dazzlings stole his virginity told him not to move, but they’d gift-wrapped this attempt for him, and the truth was he’d be no worse off either way.

“Actually...” he turned back to Adagio, but remembered not to clue them in. “Actually I think there’s a gun in the basement.”

He bolted. Hours on the treadmill to keep his body fuckable made his first sprint in month feel more like a flight. Aria and Adagio watched him flee with smiles, knowing that there was no gun in the basement and a minute headstart wouldn’t matter with their speed (though they still couldn’t wait to go home and get their old bodies back). Sonata, however, watched disappointed at how little confidence her boyfriend had gained, and how he still felt like he needed to follow the crowd and act like she was evil in front of other people.

Martin skidded to a halt in front of the gym’s metal doors, and although he knew the actual chase wasn’t going to start at least until he was through them, throwing himself against the left door to open it felt like pushing through a solid wall, and he hated how much it slowed him down.

Once he was through the door and out in the hallway though, he never once slowed down either to decide his path (he’d already thought every step of his journey through), or when rounding a corner (he was in too big a hurry to follow the laws of physics). He was never tempted to look over his shoulder or worried when he came to a blind corner either, because logically they couldn’t know where he was going, and emotionally he was alone in the halls of CHS, sprinting between extra credit opportunities while everyone else was in class again. It was all there, the running, the need to do something while understanding why, even the momentary glances of the full class rooms as he dashed past their windows. Of course, his new clothes removed any physical comfort the sprint might have given him (his shirt felt like cardboard, and the rough material of his pants was tearing his legs apart). He also hadn’t forgotten that the students and teachers in those rooms were mind-controlled zombies, or that there really were consequences for being late this time. The sheer nostalgia of the situation though, made him glad that he’d ran, even if he was about to be tackled or tripped then fucked-mindless by 40 horny sirens.

And he wasn’t tripped from around the next corner or tackled on the next step. Or the next or the next. One by one he turned every corner he needed to. There couldn’t have been more than five, but it felt like thousands. When he arrived at the blessedly light wooden door of the counselling room (ironic) his legs and crotch felt stripped to the bone by his pants but otherwise he wasn’t remotely fatigued. Before opening it though, he looked through the glass window just to be sure.

Maybe 20 minutes ago, much to the disappointment and anger of the students he was teaching at the time, the intercoms had blared announcing an assembly and ordering him to this very room. When he’d arrived, he’d seen Aria shut a brown book that they’d left in the room after explaining his role in the assembly (which amounted to “stand behind us while we talked and fuck us afterwards). They’d just called him out there to make sure they entered the gym with him in tow, but what was even more ironic was that their symbolic and probably subconscious gesture of ownership was going to prove their undoing. His heart jumped into his mouth when he saw that not only was the book still on the coffee table, but so was a pen.

“This might not be the book they were talking about,” Martin’s self doubt came home from vacation, but he still yanked the door open with a *whoosh* and practically dived for the two items on the table to pick them up. “You might need some kind of spell to make it work,” it continued, but he was already slamming it down on the table. “Maybe you have to write it in a certain part.”

“Dear Princess Twilight,” Martin tried to think through a message as his shaking hands to open the book it and ready the pen. “No, I don’t have time for formalities. Dear Princess Twilight- fuck! Thought it again. Force of habit.”

Split the book open to a random page, confident the princess would still get the message. But once he’d set the purple colored pen on the top left corner of the page, his brain slowed down enough for him to see that there was way too much printed text already in the book for a journal.

A second later, he’d managed to pick up the words “bondage”, “pleasure”, and “submissive” from the page. Rage and sadness boiled in him instantly, and tears were already in his eyes when he slammed the book closed again to read the cover.

Female Domination and Petplay: We Accept No Responsibility For Assault, Kidnapping and Rape Charges Leveled At Readers

For some time, long enough for a familiar set of clopping boots to become audible, Martin stared frozen at the book in front of him. And once the footsteps became accompanied by muffled, bickering voices, not caring what happened next he vented his anger in a voice that probably alerted the Dazzlings, then ruptured their eardrums:

“What the fuck does Bob Dominic Sanchez Maria think I did to him!”

He picked up the book and chucked it into the wall hard enough to split its spine upon impact. Then he put his hands on the table, preparing to stand up and keep running before the footsteps reached him, but paused to ask himself what the point was.

“BDSM doesn’t have it out for you, the world does. Even if you miraculously manage to escape them, the real journal could be anywhere, and they don’t need you anymore since they’ve already contacted the other world. Face it; the liberty you’re experiencing is borrowed, and they’re coming to collect their due.”

“But maybe I can get to Sunset and make her tell me where the real book is,” his optimistic sane side shot back. “Or maybe I can find a real deadly weapon. Or maybe I can hide until the portal opens and rush in in front of them. This freedom’s not borrowed, I’m just being chased by thieves that’d give the masked fox a run for his money when it comes to persistence.”

Martin’s determination was renewed, and with an angry but cold face he continued to push down on his legs and arms to stand up. But before he’d gained more than two inches of elevation, he heard the footsteps reach peak volume, then stop. Fear and regret returned to him, and he ruefully noted that while his thinking skills had certainly improved since becoming a sex slave, his time management had tanked.

Two hands slapped onto his shoulders hard enough to sent shaking through his arms. His body did currently feel much lighter than he had in months, but the way such slim bodies pulled him around like he weighed nothing still took him by surprise. The hands on his shoulders tugged backwards, there was a *whoosh*, and for a split-second he felt airborne before crashing backwards onto the thinly carpeted floor. The back of his head and shoulders knew the drill, and his arms fell outstretched by his sides where the rough carpet scratched his exposed hands. He focused his vision just in time to see Adagio’s upside-down smirking face leering over him while Sonata and Aria stepped past them and dropped down to pin each of his arms. Aria happily sat on his right limb facing away, but Sonata spun around and pinned down his left with both hands (his leather jacket probably saved his limb from her bone-crushing strength) so he could see her sad face clearly.

“Nice try, loser.”
“Cutie Pie, you don’t have to run!”
“Were you trying to contact the princess?”

“Hey!”
“Hold on,”
“Can it!”

They all tried to speak to him at once, then all turned on each other, each wanting to get their word out first.

“Uuugh!” groaned Adagio. “Alphabetical order!”

Aria rolled her eyes and turned away, and Sonata looked up and began mouthing the alphabet as she counted on her fingers, and Adagio looked down at him again.

“Did you honestly think you could contact the princesses?” Adagio asked, almost rhetorically.

“Wrong book, moron,” Aria taunted, seeing what he had been trying to write in.

“You really needed a fucking book to tell you how to tie-” Martin tried to shoot back, but stopped when he realized what he was saying to whom.

Adagio had always known there was a more active, more determined but also cowardly boy that the necklace hid (she’d been punched in the face by him on day one after all), but Aria and Sonata stared at him shocked. Had they caught some other boy who just happened to look and sound exactly like their Cutie Pie? because the slave they knew and loved was quiet, obedient, and more often than not monosyllabic. They’d both expected him to run (though only Aria understood why), but actually talk back to them, even after he was restrained and helpless?

Martin took a good look at the faces in front of him, and realized emotionally speaking, it was more like staring at a classmate he hated instead of a foster parent that sucked. He’d always hated them, but he was feeling himself enough to talk back because he’d briefly felt, however falsely, that he could do a whole lot worse.

Sadly, Adagio could do worse as well. She let go of his shoulders to reach behind her and dig through a paper bag she’d dropped as she came in. All she pulled out of the filled was ball gag that she outstretched and lowered towards his mouth.

“You shouldn’t have run M-our little fuckslut, but I’m glad you did.”

Hearing Adagio diminish what he thought was pretty impressive escape attempt, Martin grimaced, and turned his head to the side. He knew she could just sing to make him complacent, or just violently grab his head, twist it upright so the gag was pressed against his lips, then force it in with her thumbs until it was safely inside and they pull the straps around to secure it, which was exactly what she did, but the moving of his jaw and mouth in such a defiant fashion gave him a rush of power.

Now that he was eating and couldn’t say anything mean, a teary-eyed Sonata asked him his motivations while Adagio stood up and circled around to his legs.

“*Sniff* Why Cutie Pie!? (Hey, that rhymes). Why are you trying to get away from us!? We’re about to get Equestria! We can get married and you can drink my milk and fuck me everyday and-“

“Shut up, Sonata!” Aria shouted, just before Martin was about to do the same despite his gag. “He’s not your boyfriend! I know the name is misleading but mind control necklaces don’t make people tell the truth. He only lets fucks us and says he loves you because he has no choice.”

Tear droplets dripped onto Martin’s jacket arm as Sonata listened to her sister tear her world apart. Adagio had stopped between his legs, wanting to hear this before she began.

“But-but h-he”

“He-he-he he gets horny whenever we’re about to rape him because he’s a human, and humans can’t control their bodies. And hate to play angel’s advocate, but I could be a 100 year-old human burning to death and I’d still think to myself ‘well, at least I’m not Sonata Dusk’s sex slave’ his life probably sucks so bad right now.”

There were (innumerous) times in her life that Sonata would know something, and then her sisters would just tell her something else and the world would change so that it’d be true. She didn’t understand how that was supposed to work, but it did, and right now, she’d wanted nothing more for it not to be.

“You-,” she slowly turned back to Martin. “You evil liar, liar, pants on fire!” she cried accusingly.

Adagio didn’t even try to figure out her sister’s logic, and simply knelt down by his crotch. Martin tried to kick her in the face, but she’d been waiting for the move and easily caught his leg and pinned both of them down.

“He’s not going to have any pants anymore,” she stated plainly, sitting on his lower legs and reaching for his fly. “We’re gonna truss you up when we’re done…”

He twisted his hips as far to the right as they would go, but Adagio held them down with one hand and expertly began undoing his fly with the other.

“-And you’re gonna stay that way! We’ll just adjust the spell so you can hate us and plot to escape all you want, but we’ll still be eating it, you little shit.”

Martin’s glaring eyes went wide and he nearly whimpered when he realized the implications of her words. He got tied up all the time, but it was only when it happened on a mission that he really felt his bonds. To be like he was now, uncomfortably between free and imprisoned, would be… well, he’d run out of qualifiers long ago, but not-fucking-pleasant.

He heard a piercing zip sound, and felt the room’s air on his chafed member. Then Adagio pulled down his pants, which brought agony to his entire raw crotch before baring it. Nevertheless, when she took his cock in one hand moved further up on his body to get into a straddling position above his crotch, his penis slowly began to stiffen.

“Hu-hu hink hu han heet hwiligh?” Martin said with as much confidence as he could muster. “-hithout he?”

“Why do you care, you monster,?” replied Sonata vindictively. “All you care about is yourself.”

Adagio ignored him, and casually dropped herself onto his member.

“Hmmm,” she moaned a single time as she mounted him. Upon first impact, Martin closed his eyes, screamed, and shook his body at the pain of the contact on his red thighs and (he thought to be) sore cock.

“Damn,” Adagio commented seeing his obvious pain. “I bet you’d taste better now than you did kissing my boot.”

The pain actually seemed to weaken his penis even while he was hilt-deep inside her warm, hugging snatch. She fixed that quickly though, by clutching both her breasts through her thin dress and pumping her knees up and down on him. His cock, it seemed, wasn’t as sore as he thought it was, and her wet tightness got exponentially better as blood flowed to both his face and crotch.

“Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. Mmm,” she moaned quietly in direct contrast to her quick humping and mad fondling of her gigantic breasts. Martin didn’t moan, but being raped by his captor, having his dick forcefully stuffed into her snatch for her personal enjoyment, somehow felt fresh again. He was never hit by any tidal waves of sexual pleasure during their quick symbolic fuck, but his cock, still entrapped by the elastic ring, slowly felt better and better pumping, or more accurately, being pumped inside her. Soon the pain on his legs was all but gone, and his thighs and abs twitched to thrust up into her and speed things up. They did that everytime someone rode him, but it felt less like a reflex and more like an actual command this time.

“Am I overthinking this?” he asked himself while fighting the counter-urge to dig his fingernails into the carpet and block out the pleasure. It was then, he noticed, that since they’d started he’d involuntarily pulled up his legs behind her. “Should I- yeah, cause it worked so well with Rainbow- aw fuck it!”

He straightened both his legs, then brought both his knees into Adagio’s lower back as hard as he could. Aria and Sonata almost gasped again at his showing of defiance, and Adagio’s head whipped forwards out of shock. A smile made very difficult by the rubber ball in his mouth appeared on his face. He might not be escaping, but the intense satisfaction he felt seeing them in pain was more than worth it.

Unfortunately, while Adagio was stopped from bouncing on him briefly, her hands dropped off her breasts, which in turn brought their full girth to Martin’s attention. Instead of kicking her again, he watched them jiggle under the thin protection of her dress. For some reason the sight was captivating to him again, and it reminded him Derpy had forgotten to feed him that morning. All that milk, sloshing around inside...

“Hah!” Adagio laughed, snapping him back to reality. She then resumed pumping, and slipped her fingers over her tits and into her dress to pull it down and reveal her engorged nipples. “Yeah. You wanna sip from these dairy’s, you’re gonna have to give me some a your milk first.”

Martin clenched his eyelids again and kicked both his legs into her spine rapidly, but she was ready for it now and it was like kneeing a marble column. Laughing semi-maniacally she continued to rape him until, of course, he was primed and ready and she guessed they could finish now.

They came together, him coating her insides until there was no way she wasn’t pregnant, and her gushing back until his crotch and balls were a warm sticky mess. The forced pleasure rocking his body was like he was having his virginity stolen again, and every milliliter of liquids exchanging between their organs felt much heavier and warmer.

With a final deep breath, Martin slumped his head on the floor. He waited for his obligations to seep back into his mind, but when they never did, he remembered his circumstances and turned his head to the side to get a sideways-blurred image of the bag that told him nothing.

“So they can take me with or without the necklace,” he thought, expecting to feel shame and despair. Strangely though, it never came as he logically knew that didn’t matter.

“So,” he heard Aria start above him. “Still alphabetical order?”

“Sure,” replied Adagio. “It’s not like anyone else is here to interrupt us,” she looked at the door contemptuously, as if it represented her 40+ sisters who had left the capture of a potentially dangerous boy all to them.

Without a hint of exhaustion or even using her hands, the orange Dazzling simply put her feet underneath her and stood up. As always, being inside a pussy hurt mentally, slipping a wet cock out of one into the comparatively chill room temperature hurt physically. Her snatch continued to drip diluted white globules onto his crotch, then legs until she stepped off him and sat down on his left arm (with her pants still by his feet, and their combined fluids still smearing between her thighs) to allow Aria to stand up, and and take her place by Martin’s feet.

“So like I said,” Aria spoke as she casually dropped her pants, pulling Martin’s head back up to look at her. After the shock and daze of the first orgasm in a sequence wore off, he found that all he could muster when he looked at her was anger, and he wasn’t nearly as tired as he thought he was. His acquired bodily stamina was supposed to be used for several more orgasms, but he saw now he could use it to run or fight back even after he’d been forced to cum. He looked down and considered raising both his legs to protect his crotch in another symbolic gesture, but Aria abruptly turned around and fell butt-first onto his exposed thighs. “I know you’re not enjoying this,” she said unsympathetically over her shoulder, but it was mostly drowned out by Martin’s combination of a scream and grunt at the agony of her tight ass spearing into his femurs and further scratching the raw skin.

“Hu hukhing hunt,” Martin growled through his gag, as if sitting on him was the most deserving-of-an-insult thing Aria alone had done. Talking back still felt empowering though, even if he could feel her blistering heat so close to his penis and see her- wait, that’s not her pussy.

“But I don’t give a fuck,” she continued, ignoring his insults and positioning herself both so that her long, bare legs held his down, and her puckered anus was moving closer to his cock, that was rising again despite the pain. “So long as you feel bad, fuck good, and help us win, capisce?”

Instead of retorting, Martin contemptuously watched his cock become hard again, and she reached around behind her to grip it. Her hand warmed the lingering stickiness, and put even more blood into his member, but his arousal was mixed with disgust and a returning fear, imagining what would happen to his cock once it was stuck in the wrong hole. He’d occasionally been taken up the ass by various toys (and one finger), but never done it to a girl himself. Speaking from his own experiences, he couldn’t see why anyone would willingly subject themselves to such a strange feeling, and the orgasm it had brought him had felt unnatural. And no girl he’d met had had much interest in it, and so how being inside a rectum himself would feel had remained a mystery until now. With the necklace, he might not’ve outright feared it as yet another position, but without it, once she pushed herself into the air with one hand and pointed his cock straight up with the other, he shook and kicked his legs underneath her feet in a last-ditch attempt to dislodge her.

It was fruitless or course, since without even trying she could hold his legs down with her feet. And true to her word, she ignored his protests and lowered herself down as soon as she was ready.

The feeling of her asshole on his tip stopped his struggles dead. As gravity pulled her down, her rectum widened and accepted his tip much in the same was his had accepted the vibrator. Martin closed his eyes and curled his toes as he was accepted into the just-as-tight but half-as-wet hole (thank goodness she almost never ate solids), not knowing whether to anticipate agony or bliss.

“Uuugh,” Aria moaned, pulling both her hands back around to her front to leave the rest to gravity. This wasn’t as fun for her as simply having her pussy filled, but to have it stuck up the hole she barely used was almost a tickling sensation that she knew could bring her to its own unique orgasm, and she was ready for some variety.

She slowly fell further and further down him, and he slowly slid further and further up her. He also saw now that it didn’t force pleasure onto him like a mouth or a vagina, but hugged his cock more like breasts did, and he’d be cumming up into her stomach with the right prodding.

That prodding came when she put her hands down on either sides of them and began boosting herself up and down on his lap with only her wrists.

Martin spasmed under the weight of all three Dazzlings, as the pleasure of Aria’s anus hugging him so tight, then sliding up, creating the same illusion of sucking his cum out like a mouth did, was some of the… roughest he’d ever felt. She didn’t bounce frictionlessly on top of him anymore; they both felt the whole weight of every her every pump.

Aria started to reconsider her favourite positions as she found her own weight couldn’t pull her down fast or hard enough. She just needed his cock poking at her intestines. She strange tickling pleasure was way better than she remembered, forcing her pussy to moisten impossibly fast and drip onto the carpet between Martin’s legs, which she could barely focus on keeping pinned down.

He was shaking beneath her, she noticed. Worse than normal, but not in the escaping kind of way.

“Oh fuck, calm down man,” Marin told himself. “You’re just gonna cum a few times, then they’ll piss- well, they not gonna go away now, but something will happen and you can try again. You got all the time in the world.”

“Aria was right. This is why you’re only fit to be our fucktoy,” Adagio said to his right having picked up on his enjoyment. Amidst forcefully spearing Aria’s ass, he turned his head to the side and glared at her face with the contempt and annoyance he’d been prevented from showing every previous time they said something stupid and next-to meaningless. “You’re hot for a human, but humans are just magicless meatbags too stupid stop themselves from getting hard or wet when we molest them.”

“Yeah! What she said,” corroborated Sonata.

Martin simply looked back up at the ceiling again, prepared to let the biology run its course (on the both of them, judging by how loudly Aria was groaning, and once picked one hand up to grope her breasts, before forcing herself to put it back down and keep pushing out of necessity).

“Huve hot he hame *grunt* hodieths hath hwe hath *nnnn*-” he attempted to refute them calmly and rationally, but trailed off the further he and Aria went.

The muscles were working in his loins, but he wasn’t ready to blow yet. For both of them, it seemed like each thrust after the next would be the one to sent them into bliss, but they were kept in suspense forever.

Finally, the switch clicked seemingly arbitrarily, and he passed his knot up into her just as she was coming back down. Hot seed blasted up into her body, the warm goo inside her giving her the exact feeling her own raging loins needed.

“Aaauuuuugh!” Aria moaned and screamed at the same time, as if her orgasm had scared her. Her pussy squirted out in front of her, staining the carpet between Martin’s legs, and she leaned forwards and reach up to squeeze both of her oversized milk-tanks through her shirt. Her moans made Martin expect to feel her cum blasting back against his, but her butthole was so tight in fact that his sperm became trapped in a pool above his tip with nowhere to go.

Aria took a slight, satisfied breath, and moved her legs off his to stand back up as easily as her sister had. Martin’s cock literally popped right out of her, and was showered in its own discharge coming out of her ass before it puckered closed again with enough still inside to make it white and dripping as she stepped back to her pants.

“So, you wanna go Sonata?” she asked as she bent down, fully intending to replace her pants while both her holes were still leaking fluids.

“Oh, we’ll fuck a ton Cutie Pie,” she said to him, still angry despite the dark spot in her crotch. She then looked to the bag. “But no more Mrs Nice Dazzling. By the time you’re all tied up and all our friends have had fun with you… ”

Martin was now looking her in the eye, genuinely concerned.

“-You’re gonna be begging for my titties again!”

Walking naked with chained feet and his arms twisted into a U-shape behind his back by another quick-release armbinder was oddly reminiscent of riding a bicycle, with how he fought to maintain balance, felt the air across his body, and had to pedal his feet to step the few inches the chain allowed without scooting along the squeaky cold linoleum floor. His sweat stained clothes had been left in the counselling room (to remain there forever if his captor’s boasts were to be believed), and his normal purely aesthetically (and very uncomfortable) spiked gold collar had been removed for a few savored seconds before being replaced by a nearly identical but much more practical version that really was intended for dogs.

“Keep up, bitch,” Aria tugged forwards on his leash as they arrived at the door to the gym. She only pulled him a few inches forwards, but the sudden acceleration jerked his neck forwards while his head whipped back. He stumbled forwards, just barely remaining upright on his chained feet. But choking through was must’ve been irreparable damage to his windpipe, he stood straight again behind Adagio and Aria, refusing to fall over, even if he was about to be led back into the gym where he’d be thrown to the floor and gang-raped. Adagio put her hand on the door handle but turned around to look at them before she opened it. But before she could say anything, Sonata unnecessarily hurt Martin again.

“I’m gonna tell them all you lied to me,” she warned, before smacking his right butt-cheek with her open palm as she passed him. Martin threw his head back in a shriek that was piercing even with his gag, and almost fell forwards again. She’d hit harder than ever, and he could swear he felt his cheek bleeding. He tried to cover it with his bound hands, but the rubber only stung him far worse, so he willed himself to lift his arms back and close his eyes to wait for the pain to pass. “And your tushy is gonna feel soooo much worse!”

Martin looked up again in surprise at the blue siren’s second half-menacing and well thought out threat of the day. Adagio simply smiled at her proud, and turned back around to open the doors for all of them.

The old metal doors screeched in protest to her superhuman push that opened them both wide open, and she lingered her arms outstretched to enter the gym like a glorious angel, with her two idiot sisters and their shared sex slave flowing out behind her as if doves.

Her calm, professional expression intended to tell all her puppets that she was amazing turned into confusion, and then fear when she turned her head to the right and saw that something about the spot of the bleachers where all her pawns who naively thought they were her sisters were supposed to be sitting had seriously changed since they’d left.

One by one the others entered and stopped behind her when they saw it too. The mass of colors was still there, but it was more lining the bleachers and the area in front of them than sitting there. They realized this was because every single siren was lying down in a position probably not of their choosing. The only half-standing (kneeling) figures were facing away from them, but looked like Flash Sentry and Twilight Sparkle. Only Sonata breathed a sigh of relief at this though, because the others had already noticed that both the conscious ones were trying to pull something off the sleeping sirens’ hands.

While Martin felt something scratch the back of his leg, the realization that some kind of cataclysm had struck dawned on the two smart ones, and a feeling of fear and regret they hadn’t felt since they’d felt the tug of the vortex millennia ago washed over them. The dumb one, however, had thought that the vortex was a pretty fun ride, and called out to who she thought was one of their most loyal supporters.

“Twily! Why is everybody to sleepy?!”

Twilight Sparkle had already heard them come in, but their referral to her the same was her B.B.B.F.F did caused her to squeeze Sunset Shimmer’s hand tightly out of anger. They were mocking her. She’d seen her friends corrupted before, but these sirens hadn’t just taken the Equestrian element bearers and turned them into polar opposites.

They’d taken the weaker versions of almost everyone she knew and loved, including herself, and turned them into grotesque parodies of their former selves, then left her and Spike to stumble upon their work and slowly realize the awful truth.

“And now,” she thought, looking down at the juice-smeared face of Sunset Shimmer. When she’d passed possessed Sunset in the hallway’s earlier, the superficial similarities between her and these “Dazzlings” she suspected to be the banished sirens had occurred to her. But after seeing Pinkie Pie sucking of a statuesque Soarin inside a classroom, she’d remembered that Sunset had accepted their offer of friendship after she was driven mad by the malfunctioning Element of Magic, and the Dazzling had no such excuse for once again overwriting the redeemed villain's personality and forcing her to become even worse than the past self she hated. “You’ve forced me to drug my friends, my mentors, and even myself earlier.” She roughly threw Sunset’s ring over her shoulder so that it thudded loudly on the wooden floor, and then stood up. “There’ll be no redemption for you.”

She spun around to stare at the three girls she now saw as easily her greatest enemies. And despite the great power they’d amassed, Adagio and Aria stepped back in fear of the girl who’s furious expression told them that she wasn’t the sexy but nerdy weakling they’d enthralled effortlessly, but rather the reason Luna had wanted that girl in in the first place.

“Oh c’mon,” Sonata said to her sisters, now behind her, for not seeing the obvious and not-remotely-scary explanation to what they were seeing. She saw out of the corner of her eye Martin squatting, but thought little of it, just like everything else. “There just having a naptime and Twilight and Sweetheart are just being naughty-.”

“Sonata Dusk! Adagio Dazzle! Aria Blaze!” Twilight bellowed in the human equivalent of the Royal-Canterlot-Voice, rattling the gym’s windows and freezing all three Dazzlings in fear. “Sweetheart” had enough sense to lie down between bodies and cover his head when Twilight stepped over the unconscious Sunset and stomped her way in front of the foot cart, ready to make sure no one ever called him that again. Aria dropped Martin’s leash to hold up her hands defensively and take another step back behind Adagio, who always seemed to have some kind of idea of what to do. The orange siren was just as frightened as the other two though. Her body surged with emotional energy that could probably take on an alicorn that still had its magic, but being a human teenager and hiding in the shadows for so long meant she wasn’t remotely ready to face this kind of legendary girl on anything but her own terms.

“P-princess-”

“Shut the fuck up!” Twilight swiped her hand in front of her. Not even her plan going swimmingly behind her enemies could alleviate the rage she was about to verbalize. “You’ve hurt these people! You attacked this world just because it couldn’t defend itself, and turned these ponies into monsters for what?! Sex?!”

Hearing apparent Equestrian Princesses error in species, cliched referring to them as “monsters”, and how short sightedness neutralized Adagio’s expression. And as Twilight continued, she followed the “monster” train of thought.

“But I’m not gonna let you trick me and hurt Equestria too,” Twilight then stated coldly. “I figured out who Sunset’s “magical refugees” were by reading up on the history of alternate dimensions, and I built-” she stopped herself, realizing she was boasting and this was hardly the time. “You really should’ve eaten the fucking tacos. It’ve been mucher easier in your sleep.”

“Are there three Twilight’s now?” Martin thought sarcastically. “Because I like this badass Twilight even more than the first one.”

But Adagio’s frown had flipped. True, she could try singing to subdue the powerless princess, but she was tired of being subtle. She mentally took stock of all the energy in her body, and compared it with the few super popular concerts they’d had where they ate so much they felt like their old selves again, concluding it’d be more than enough.

“Monster?” she held out her arms and focused her mind on nothing but her power and her old body. The air around her warmed, her feet became lighter on the floor, and a faint gold outline obvious to Twilight “I’ll show you what you stupid ponies call a-”

Halfway airborne, and with all the sensations of her weak, cumbersome human body fading away, Adagio felt something round run into her back, and suddenly got much, much heavier. Her bliss broken, all her human senses returned in full force just in time for her to crash face first into the cement-hard wood of the gym floor.

“Uuuh!” was all the siren could grunt out as a thud not nearly loud enough for Twilight and her allies echoed throughout the gym. Aria and Sonata had been starting to smile, but now they looked down in utter bewilderment at a miraculously unbound Cutie Pie on their leader’s back, having apparently tackled her.

Aria opened her mouth. Whether it was to sing or protest would forever remain a mystery because before she could utter a syllable a massive arm came over her mouth and pulled her back into the stone-hard body of Big Macintosh.

Grabbing a teenage girl this way brought back terrible memories of his first mission after having that damned necklace put around his neck, but the farm boy had already decided to embrace his terrible powers of destruction, and use them to make sure these witches never hurt anyone ever again. When who he thought was his Twilight had stopped him in the hallway the night before, and ordered him into an empty classroom, he was still sore both physically and mentally from the Friendship Games had gotten ready to hope that the next time he was temporarily free it was near a razor blade again. But to his amazement, she’d pulled a massive claw-like apparatus she claimed to have borrowed from Pinkie Pie out of the closet and cut his chain before he could even react. After the chores list from hell was gone from his mind though, he wasn’t remotely relieved. He was guilty and afraid, and told Twilight and Spike they should never have risked themselves to help him because he was just going to rape and kill them too. But Twilight simply told him that necklaces were more practical to remove at this point, and calmly asked him to explain to them what was going on.

Recounting the past few months had been excruciating, but also reminded him of what was at stake. Despite Twilight and Spike’s repeated assurances that it was in no way his fault, Mac still knew it was too late for his redemption. But his family, and his friends and the world? He still had a responsibility to them, and as per Spike’s idea, that responsibility first manifested in cooking 100 tacos while Twilight raided the animal shelter for sedatives that they’d test on her doppelganger.

He had nothing to say to Aria Blaze as he held her head against his chest, and when he felt her voice blasting against his forearm, followed by both her arms grabbing onto it, Macintosh instantly responded by adjusting his grip and doing exactly what Celestia had ordered him to do if his sister’s best friends resisted.

Even her super-human bones were done in an eighth of a second with his accursed strength, but he felt every centimeter of the rotation. He knew she was a third the reason for everything that had happened, but when he thought of his own capture he saw Celestia, and when he thought of the general suffering he saw himself, so he tried did it as quickly as possible with as blank a face he could summon, as if trying to tell her that this was simply his duty, even though she couldn’t see him.

Aria felt her spine twisting uncomfortably, then her whole body went completely numb as she was just a floating head for an instant before the floor seemed to fly up at her.

It was face down on the gym floor, unable to get up, unable to turn her head, unable to breath that she watched her family’s final moments. A purple and green dog shouted in a human voice and lunge into Sonata’s left thigh. His teeth didn’t even scratch her skin, so she didn’t cry out, but he held on long enough to make the blue Dazzling reach down to remove this nuisance, in turn distracting her long enough for Twilight Sparkle to close the distance between them and plow into her like bullet, tackling her out of Aria’s darkening sight presumably to a similar fate Adagio was currently meeting.

Even in his fury, Martin had known better than to risk turning Adagio over, and and if a baseball bat barely slowed her down before she had the whole school to feed on, they’d fall through to the basement before he killed her by returning a favor and bashing her head against the floor. But he’d been in close proximity to a siren a few times, and knew very well that they still evidently needed to breath.

All through the ordeal, he never bothered to turn around and address the commotion behind him, assuming it was Spike, who had freed him, and Macintosh, who he’d seen coming from the stage, keeping him safe. While Adagio was still disoriented from being brought crashing to the floor so fast, Martin put one arm through the cushion of her hair against the back of her head and slipped the other under her neck as if he’d done this a million times. He then squeezed one and pushed against the other as hard as he possible could.

Of course, nothing short of her head falling off immediately would have satisfied his rage and urgency when he started to strangle her, but he initially panicked when he didn’t feel her neck give in the slightest.

Fortunately, the head Dazzlings started to panic at that point to. Falling to the floor was more of an inconvenience with her current strength, and she’d been about to annoyedly curse her attacker then hop back up when her head was grabbed by some kind of monster and her throat was compressed to an impossible size. She instinctively tried to suck in oxygen, but even her super-strong larynx could only manage the tiniest gurgled-whisp against an arm built by a troubled childhood and recently enhanced by hours in the gym everyday.

Her choking, as well as how he now noticed her chest was no longer raising and sinking beneath his straddling legs, was a boost of confidence to Martin, but he was still worried he’d only taken her by surprise and that she was about to break free effortlessly.

Sure enough, Adagio choked again, but then pulled her arms back from where they’d fallen towards her neck. Martin knew she was going to pry his arm off, but he couldn’t think of anyway to stop her without loosening his grip. But just as she put her hands around his right arm and he prepared to have it torn off, they both heard a disturbing combination of a crack and a crunch heard behind them where Aria had been standing, and immediately knew what had happened.

Adagio delayed her own attempts to free herself. Had her sister just died behind her? The sound of a body too light to be anything but a teenage girl slumping to the ground told them both the truth, and sent a chill of fear and sadness she’d only even eaten, never felt, straight to her normally vacant heart, and delayed her even longer.

The snap though, meant only that it could be done to Martin. Without hesitating, ignoring Spike’s yell, and followed by Twilight dashing past him, he opened his balled fists and repositioned his arms to grab the opposing ends of Adagio’s head, and forcefully twisted to the right with all the vigor his hatred gave him.

He felt the fear of inadequacy again, and worried he’d made things worse by relieving the pressure on her throat when her head caught on her spine and stopped twisting. He knew it wasn’t as easy as in the movies, but was Big Mac that much stronger than him?

But then there was just the faintest of crunches, and her head moved just the smallest of units further, and Adagio’s hands shook on his arms in pain. Encouraged for the final time, Martin kept twisting, hoping spines worked like rocks and paper when then were cut or cracked even slightly.

It was only a crick in the neck at that point, but Adagio felt her life twisting away inside her. If she’d concentrated and simply pushed herself up or grabbed his arms and forced them off she might still be alive, but Sonata was screaming as the super-strong farm boy joined the alicorn princess in pummeling her, and Aria was already dead, so physical combat terrified her. And no matter her strength, she’d always see her primary weapons while human as her voice and her body.

“Cutie Pie-” she verbally reached out in a crying tone. Martin clenched his teeth and twisted harder.

“Gaah! Martin please!”

Martin stopped twisting, but felt so remorse of sympathy, ready to finish the job if he felt her move an inch or mutter anything even slightly melodic. Above Sonata’s fading screams, he heard her out.

“Please! I’m sorry! I did-”

She’d never thought this way about a human, or anything else, but couldn’t risk patronizing him for even a second, and thought of something else to appeal to.

“I can be yours! Just cut off my necklace and program a slave one for me and I’ll be your-”

“I’m asexual now you fucking cunt,” Martin Saylin cut her off in sarcastically flat tone, and twisted harder than ever.

Time hadn’t gotten any easier to keep track of. For all Martin knew he’d been sitting in the classroom doing nothing but heavily breathing for days.

Once the former cattle had all stumbled, delirious and disbelieving, out of their classrooms to the second explaining-all-the-magical-bullshit-you-all-just-saw assembly in CHS history, Martin had kept his head down and slipped into the first empty room that he’d never taught in. He’d sat down at a desk in the far corner, just wanting to spend the next few… eternities cooling off. His heart rate and adrenaline had been higher than ever in the few minutes it’d taken them to turn the Dazzling’s from surefire-dimension conquerors to the liberated janitor’s problem. But he hadn’t felt it normalize even a little after Twilight, Macintosh, Spike and Flash had comforted him over Adagio’s body or after in varying states of fatigue, relief, sadness and lingering anger, they’d all removed the remaining unconscious girls’ rings. Twilight mentioned that once the last ring was bodiless, all their brainwashing magic would fade, so Martin didn’t bother to stick around after it’d been pried from Spitfire’s finger. Maybe Macintosh, for all his apparent remorse at both what he’d done for the sirens and what he’d gone against them, felt obligated to not only look the girls in the eyes afterwards, but help Twilight with all the aftermath logistics, but all Martin wanted was to go somewhere of his free, unobstructed choosing.

It was dark outside now, and sitting and breathing for so long hadn’t made Martin feel any better. He’d tried to focus only on his respiring and not ponder the past or the future, but he could still see her poofy head beneath him, and the feeling of twisting it seemed burned into his palms. He’d also finally removed his cock-band with much difficulty, but the pinching even while he was soft had refused to subside, and his base hurt as it slowly expanded. He needed to go somewhere, do something more therapeutic, but he had no idea what. Plus, if he left the room he might see other people, and as ground zero he saw it in everyone’s best interests that he stay away.

He heard the female footsteps outside the room, but was confident they’d pass without seeing him until they stopped by his door. He was about to get annoyed when he heard Spike speak…

“*sniff* *sniff* He’s in there.”

“Thanks Spike.”

-and slowly pulled his head up to address his savior. Her mere appearance in the room didn’t flood him with gratitude and humbleness like it might have months ago (it didn’t help that he had to look at her clothes to confirm this this wasn’t the one he’d taken at Crystal Prep) but he knew the two of them had to talk, and that she was probably the only one who could help him.

“Ummm, hi,” she waved nervously like an actual schoolgirl. “Mmmartin...” she pointed at him across the room. The original Dazzling sex slave wasn’t surprised that the girl who’d drugged a whole gym and savagely beaten another girl to death was now being super cautious; If there was one thing he knew about the real Twilight Sparkle, it’s that she would sincerely do whichever her friends needed. He also wasn’t as offset by her failure to get to the point as his stone faced expression conveyed, since even after everything their bodies had done to each other, he had a great deal of respect for the magical six/seven.

Twilight though, took it as him telling her “I’m just a normal human, and I’ve just gone through the kind of shit that’d put your hedge mazes and being-told-off-by-your-mentors to shame while you hung out in your castle and solved ponies personal problems and found a new student. Spit it out.”

“*sigh*. I can’t say I knew who you were from when last time I was here, and I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like being- having your identity and your freewill stolen from you just to suit their perverse whims. I should have been here. I said last time that Equestria could protect itself without me but earth couldn’t, and I know you’re far from defenseless… ”

Martin curled his hands and toes as the whole event played out in his head again.

“-but we should have been here, or worked out a way to watch out for you all or-”

“Twilight!” Martin shouted abruptly, holding up his hand. The princess of friendship froze in fear and embarrassment. Had she patronized him? Did he not want to hear any of this? She could talk to friends any enemies alike, but he was neither, only traumatized. She briefly wished Spike hadn’t left or that she’d brought the human elements or princesses so those more levelheaded, experienced with people, or wise could help her out. “Twilight Sparkle this isn’t your fault.”

Martin had never said that to anyone before, but the situation was to be made very, unmistakably clear, no matter how it felt to anyone.

“It’s not Big Mac’s of Flash’s or Celestia’s or Rarity’s or even mine,” Not being guilty actually hurt for Martin to admit more than he thought it would, but again, no bullshit equivocation, and he’d have to say it eventually to move on. “It was just the Dazzlings, and they’re fucking dead now.”

He stood up, and with a purpose made his way through the desks towards Twilight.

“But Twilight,” she stepped back as he came out of the the desks before stopping within arms reach of her. It was then, as she tried to conceal her illogical fear of him, that he saw just how he towered over almost every girl who’d raped him.

“I-”

His confident attitude wavered, as he realized what his idea of wanting to go somewhere else was leading him to ask.

“I don’t know if they’ve told you, but I don’t have any parents. I don’t have anyone.”

“That’s not true!” Twilight instinctively objected, pointing her finger at his chest. She’d been afraid before, but she wasn’t about to let him tear himself and all of Canterlot High down like this. “You have a whole school of people; people who know what you’ve been through, and I know you were the first but-”

“I was the first.” Martin pondered the idea in his head. As Twilight continued to talk, he thought back to the day of his capture. What had he been thinking about then? Both school credits, and his classmates. When he’d turned the corner, he’d completely forgotten about one, but he spent the next few months sticking his dick in the other. And he’d cared.

Celestia, Luna, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Spitfire, Fluttershy, Applejack, Cherilee, Lyra, Carrot Top, Roseluck, Fleetfoot, Bon Bon, Minuette, Cloudkicker, Derpy, Octavia, Photo Finish, Twilight Sparkle, Abacus Cinch, Cadence, Suri Polomare, and more: he’d fucked and given rings to every single one of them, and there were only two on that entire list that he hadn’t felt like he’d failed or betrayed somehow. And now he was alone in here, thinking that because he was the favourite he’d somehow had it worse, instead of hugging his fellow victims, sharing unnecessary apologies, then going off to do the same with their younger siblings.

“N-nevermind Twilight,” he held up his hand to cut her off again. “You’re right. I-I don’t need Equinestia.”

“Equestria.”

“Whatever,” he said, looking at the door. “How’s the assembly going?”

“They can’t start it without you.”

“Well, fuck,” he smiled and turned back to her. “I guess I’m late.”

As Martin Saylin, the former Cutie Pie dashed out the door to give a speech to his family and their guests about how they’d all been through hell, but that they’d come home now with a new appreciation for their humanity, their independence, and their friends, Twilight stood there, wondering why being late was funny.

Author's Note

Final chapter. I had a lot of scenes I wanted to cover, and a few ideas had to be scrapped, but now it's done, not much else else to say.

Writing a requested story for the first time was a challenge, but I enjoyed it, and hope to do it again soon.

A New Job Offer

Author's Note

My second story, and first request, I present to you Any Title Ideas?. Wait, no, that was just the title we used during collaboration, because neither of us were very good with them, as you probably guessed from the ones we did choose.

Anyway, this was originally intended to be in the same vein as my first story, but I realized that a more serious tone wouldn't really work with this premise, and did my best not to take what I was writing too seriously.

Anyway, I know it's not perfect, but I do hope you can enjoy it for what it is: Stupid Clop.

A New Job Offer

As history stands, on a Friday afternoon, Martin Saylin ran down the bright hallways of Canterlot High School towards the front gates, where he was late for his scheduled meeting of the three new students.

Martin no longer cursed himself for being late. He didn’t like being late, and he did his best to avoid it, but it was just a part of his life that he and other people had to deal with. Every day was a blur of classes, extracurriculars, homework, paperwork, and finally, normal work that bled into into the time allotted for the other like hemophilic pigs. After a few dozen tardies, truancies, and downright failures, the people of Canterlot understood enough to give him plenty of leeway.

People had always understood Martin, but kind of in the way one “understands” Huckleberry Finn or Macbeth. He was was put up for adoption as a baby and raised on average in one foster home per year for eighteen years, his last name was picked at some point by god knows who for god knows why. The closest things he had to parents now were the state-issued documents that said he had a small monthly allowance and could do half school days one year if he’d gotten enough credits that previous one.

That’s not to say he hated parents or adults, but companionship in general was a difficult area for him. His upbringing had taught him the Jedi might’ve been onto something in regards to attachment, though he’d always enjoyed the brief friendships he’d formed with the kids at his schools and his foster siblings. And he’d chosen Canterlot as his new home once he was too old for foster system because the few trips he’d made their with his final parent had shown him a happy, friendly place where seemingly everyone was accepted. Because this was the first one of those he’d ever seen, he’d wanted to be a part of the social scene both in school and everywhere else, and so far, he’d been doing fairly well. He’d never had time to socialize after school or on weekends obviously, but during lunch and between classes, he’d gotten a fairly good feel for several of his classmates, particularly Pinkie Pie and the four others who-

Yeah. Getting brainwashed by a school-bully turned demon, then being saved by the power of friendship was not a pleasant memory, but it had certainly boosted his confidence in the supposedly magical concept. And if those five could turn said brainwashing demon girl into an angel, he figured why couldn’t they could help him too. He also didn’t see why the Cake’s or CHS faculty couldn’t have adopted him, none of them had any basement torture chambers.

If the half day plan worked out, there’d be no more extracurriculars, fewer classes and homework, and less paperwork, so he’d have much more free time. Of course, most of it would be officially working at Sugarcube Corner, but that was one of the most social places in town, and he’d be getting paid, so win win.

Yes. Had there not been a certain three dazzling girls in front of him when he rounded the final corner, Martin’s life might’ve turned out pretty well.

When Martin came to a screeching halt in the middle of the entrance hallway, both parties were taken aback by the other’s appearance.

Martin, because they were hardly what he was expecting. He’d been told about the new arrivals just ten minutes prior when Sunset had passed the job onto the school’s go to pass onto person in the library because something had come up with her friends. All he’d been told was that there were three new students who’d be waiting in the front hall in ten minutes, and never the one to turn down work or an opportunity to get closer the the magical six, he’d accepted. But when he saw them, it took a second or two for his eyes to even realize the explosions of colors were actually three teenage girls.

The Dazzlings, on the other hand, were surprised because he was what they were expecting. Jeans and a sailboat T-shirt did little to hide the greatest combination of an athletic build, flawless face, short hair and large bulge they had seen in quite some time.

The three of them had been banished together, and had lived the countless years since then as a dysfunctional family. It had taken them a while to adjust to their new bodies, and even longer to get used to everyone else’s, but while they’d never see this world as their own, they had learned to enjoy some of its perks, mainly, its inhabitants beings so very weak. Forget trying to stop them, they’d yet to meet a human that could resist their magic at all. As tasty as their discontent and pain was though, they were still biologically teenage girls, and anyone who’d ever caught one of their eyes was screwed in every sense of the word.

But while a steady stream of food, wealth, sex and adoration may have suited a common dark-wizard, they’d always wanted more. Aria had suggested simply setting themselves up as celebrities, and making the whole word listen to their songs, but since their powers did not work electronically and needed (at least) daily refreshment, that had always been out of the question.
Sonata thought they should just take over a pet store and charm all the puppies and kittens, so people would be too busy going “awwww” to resist, but Adagio was jealous of such a cunning plan and called it the ninth worst she'd ever heard just to be a meany.

Even Adagio’s self-proclaimed tactical mind failed to think of a long term plan, and their future looked even darker when their wandering brought them to the town of Canterlot, where inciting an argument seemed significantly harder than ever before. But just as they feared their powers were fading, they saw a magnificent light show outside of a coffee shop, and Adagio couldn’t help but remember some of their other magical trinkets and powers they’d picked up on earth.

She’d quickly formulated a plan that for once, they’d all agreed on. And stage one of it (find an attractive CHS boy) had just been completed ahead of schedule.

“Hey!” waived Martin, regaining his composure..

“Hey,” Adagio distractedly waved back as he came closer.

“I’m Martin Saylin,” he forced a smile and reached out his hand, remembering his etiquette classes.

But when Adagio failed to return the gesture, he noticed that all three of the strangely dressed teenagers were looking at his body with a look of slight shock and fascination. Fearing he was making a fool of himself, Martin darted his eyes down to check his shirt and pants, but saw nothing.

“I’m Adagio,” he finally heard, and felt his hand picked up and shook with her pink fingerless gloves.

“Holy crap, he’s gorgeous!” she thought as she stared into his smiling face. One of the perks of an eternally young body is that mental maturity, and with it the idea of sex becoming blase, never comes.

Distracted, Adagio continued to idly shake. And shake, and shake, so Martin opted to just pull his hand away and put them on his hips. As soon as he did, her gaze returned to his body, and he quickly looked side to side to see that the other two were still ogling him, which would explain why they hadn’t introduced themselves.

“Well great this is awkward,” Martin thought, smiling with a look of confusion and slight fear. “Well, Sunset told me to make a good first impression and take the initiative with friendliness, whatever that means. I need to start the ball rolling. Also whatever that means.”

“And what’s you’re name?” he turned to the blue one, and reached out his hand again. But she stared with an almost jaw-dropped look of shock, and never looked up. He looked at his shirt again, this time more closely, but still saw nothing out of the ordinary, and started to wonder if they were afraid of sailboats.

“Him?” he heard what he concluded was the purple one say behind him.

“Me what?” he asked turning back to her, and saw she had leaned in for a better view, whereas Adagio had a look of annoyance and frustration.

But before he could even get nervous, Sonata started to give him a very direct answer.

“Our sex slave si-” only started though, because Adagio cut her off with a backhand smack to the face.

“-BEST FRIEND!” she shouted with a forced grin, as years of hiding had trained them (or at least she and Aria) to do. Of course there was little point in it, since they could have enthralled him at any point, and the attack only served to make Martin suspicious enough to take a step back and face all of them. He didn’t really believe they were going to do anything yet, but Martin had learned his lesson about underestimating beautiful teenage girls, and put his arms to his sides and bent his knees slightly, ready to bolt or beat at a moment's notice.

“We’re new in town, and Sonata’s made it her personal mission to find someone to be our very first friend!” Adagio continued, reaching her arms out in a gesture of explanation. Her facial expression was now frightening in its artificiality.

“But you said we were gonna-”

“Not now!” she hissed angrily through her teeth at her dimwitted colleague while Aria looked on amused. Martin, however, had heard enough, and it was Adagio’s turn to get hit in the face.

With the speed of a videogame character, he left hooked her from the side. Since she was looking behind her and to her right, his knuckles connected directly with her nose. He then spun and around to flee back into the hallways, already having a plan.

The Dazzlings may have been stronger, faster, and more durable than any normal teenage girls, but Adagio was knocked to the side by the blow, and felt the headache immediately. She grabbed her stinging face, feeling for the highly unlikely broken nose or bleeding while her companions, seeing their sister hurting, put their hands on her hunched back (though Aria would spend the next week wondering why).

In the split second since the punch Martin had made it two steps. The thought of this being a misunderstanding had already crossed his mind, and been deemed easily worth the risk. On his third step he initiated the second part of his plan, and cried out to the leader of the only people who could protect him from demon girls. The school was large, but he’d also already accounted for her not being in earshot, and figured at least one of the girls would be. And even if they weren’t, the girls were trying to be discrete, so they probably didn’t have their proverbial crown yet, and having the half school staring at them should at least slow them down long enough for him to find the six. Yes, all he needed to do was vocalize, and he was home free.

“Sunse-”

But he was wrong. They already had all the power they needed for the time being, and Aria recovered from her shock fast enough to do some vocalizing of her own. With just the first few notes, he felt weird, and lost interest in running.

♫AAAAAaaaaHHHH!♫♫AaaaAAAAHHHH!♫

She sung in a desperate, but still heavenly voice, commanding Martin to stop. And while his physique and troubled upbringing may have suggested otherwise, Martin was little stronger mentally than most of earth’s inhabitants, and he slowed to a halt.

Now assured of herself, Aria’s smile and calm voice returned, and the let go of Adagio to approach the now statuesque teenager. She changed her thoughts as she continued to sing, making the “Stop” command more focused.

♫Aaaaahhhh!♫♫Aaaaaahhhhhh!♫

Martin didn’t know why he’d stopped fleeing from what he was now sure was an imminent threat, or why he was now standing perfectly still, facing forwards, hands hanging at his sides as he heard her (admittedly melodic) voice grow louder. No, he did know why, he didn’t want to. No matter how much that same part of the mind the little angel on your shoulder comes from told him to run, shout for help or attack her, his legs, mouth, and even sweat glands refused to listen. He just felt so . . . comfortable stopping, even as his second mind controller put her hand on his shoulder and slid around him seductively, putting the final notes of her brief tune directly into his ear seductively, and stopping her hand on his chest, also seductively.

“Next time somebody asks me to do their dirty work,” he thought as he realized his predicament, “I’m gonna tell em to increase to teen suicide rate.”

Martin now stared down into Aria’s beautiful face as she brought her hand to a stop on the front of his chest. Her partners, still recovering from his attack, looked on with the same surprise and impressment they’d always rolled their eyes at whenever it was them who actually did something on their own.

The purple and blue haired siren leaned back, and admired her latest catch. She had ordered him to “stop” and “remain still”, and since everybody listened to them, Martin had no desire to do anything but stand still and expressionless (save the slightest of smiles on his agape mouth, due to how good it felt) with his arms at his sides.

He looked rather stupid, but he was in just the right frame of mind the three sirens liked their men; studly, helpless, and happy to obey them.

“Holy Guacamole! Nice job Aria!” Sonata complimented her as she and a now almost fully recovered Adagio walked over to their docile prize.

Once the three all stood in front of him, Martin looked down at their gorgeous faces as they admired him. His logic told him that he was being obviously being mind controlled again, and that he was still conscious and could resist, but to listen to it would be like getting out of a warm bed at 4:00 AM on a Saturday to do homework.

Remembering of their need for discretion, Adagio snapped out of her admiration and looked from right to left down the hallways to make sure they were still inconspicuous. Aria had always been more confident though.

“Phase one: Go pet shopping for the finest stallion in Canterlot. . .” She suddenly grabbed his crotch through his jeans and squeezed, causing Martin to spasm forward in shock, against his better mind control.

“. . .Complete” she declared as she felt his massive flaccidity as best she could through the course fabric.

It didn’t take Sunset Shimmer to figure out that he was in deep shit of the sexual nature (his first guess was that he was to be prostituted, but that seemed a little short sighted for girls with this power). The active part of Martin’s mind, the one that currently controlled his body, had next to no reaction. They had not thought he should be their docile fucktoy who loves them more than anything as they sang to him, so the idea didn’t feel right or wrong.

The logic though, gave the greatest “oh fuck” of his life (and that “oh fuck” was up against some pretty stiff competition), then pondered his entire sex life at light speed.

He was a virgin. Nineteen year-olds with more moves in their life than a chess piece tended to be.

That said, he still knew he wasn’t the kind of boy who’d leap at the idea of becoming the sex slave of these three girls. That’s why, against all the follow up questions the idea brought, his heart leaped like a rocket at what Sonata seemed like she was saying as she swatted Aria’s hand away, then went down like a rocket pointed down when continued, and Adagio cut her off again.

“No it’s not! You said he was going to be under our control for good, and that he’d wear the sluttiest clothes we could find, and tha-“

“SONATA! For fuck’s sake, he’s going to! We’re going to MAKE him do that, okay?”

“Oh.”

Adagio groaned, and turned back to Martin with a look or great frustration, as if she was actually asking for sympathy from him without ordering it. However, Martin’s physical attractiveness once again captivated her, and she found herself eyeing him up again, unable to complete her thought. Aria chuckled at their leader’s lack of focus, but Sonata’s comment, for all its flaws, had reminded her of what they planned to do with his body.

For at least 15 seconds Adagio stared at Martin, imagining him between her legs, in pink fluffy handcuffs, latex trunks and a collar that said “Adagio”. It was actually with a little reluctance that she spoke up, if only out of fear that the reality of such plans would be disappointing.

“-On that note. . .” she reached into her pocket, and removed a gold chain. “It’s time to see if we’ve gotten our energy worth.”

The thought of being tied up wasn’t enough to set off alarm bells in Martin’s mind anymore, but when she pulled it out to full length he saw that it was in fact a purple stoned necklace. It was similar in design to, but smaller than the ones the three of them wore, and that made him worried. He didn’t have kosmemophobia, and he wasn’t the most media-y person at CHS, but he could guess that a necklace from three magical girls was probably made out of trouble.

He knew he was going to put it on, whether he wanted to or not (well, poor choice of words. He'd want it alright). As previously stated, they all already had necklaces, and he doubted even they were that gaudy. Adagio began lightly humming, and then he felt his perspective of it change. He quickly saw the value in it. Great value. Wearing it would feel awesome. His conscience told him that whether it was going to turn him into one of them (not a pleasant picture), steal his soul, or take control of his mind, putting it on would be wrong. But the urge to obey was too great, making the experience like stealing from the cookie jar. He carefully took the pendant from her hands, and pulled it around his neck.

The moment it was clipped on in the back, his head felt like it’d exploded from all the changes his mind got.

He had to do things. Things he didn’t really want to do, but he knew he had to. He also knew things, things that outlined the doom of CHS, and possibly the world.

He also had to obey them. They didn’t need their voices to make him want to do things anymore, now, he knew he’d obey them like they were his teachers and bosses and foster parents (if he actually obeyed those) all in one. He knew when one of these girls (he still didn’t know their names) wanted something, he could not want to do it, but was going to.

“No! No! No!” His angel continued for fight the losing battle against the most advanced magic on earth. “There’s nothing stopping you! Run! Fight back! Disobey! Do something! You’re being fucking brainwashed again! Well, technically mind controlled because it's an external force, but still!”

But that was just what they wanted him to think.

After a few seconds, enough time for his brain to both fully receive his new gift, and for him to figure out the implications of what his new purpose in life, the three sirens all pinched their now glowing necklaces and rolled their eyes back in a very suggestive manner. The Dazzlings may enjoy regular food, but they’d never understand how anyone could ever be happy having never fed off a bar fight or hate-fueled murder. To feel emotions, particularly negative ones, flow out from someone else and pierce your body, then spread out slowly until your every cell feels a warmth and satisfaction that tells you that you now wield true power, and can use it as you wish? Yes, they'd already killed for that feeling.

Martin of course, had many questions, but he’d also had questions about the whole Fall Formal fiasco, and those still hadn’t all been answered, so he tried his best to push them to the back of his mind.

As they tasted him, Aria, Adagio and Sonata were all certain they’d chosen their new pawn wiseley. He was gorgeous, but also delicious. Like a chocolate dildo. Every emotion from every person had its own particular feeling, and Martin’s, just like everything else about him, felt built for their abuse. Fear, anger and. . . Was that lust already?

All three of them felt it, and while they still fed, they all snapped out of their eating daze to look straight at him again.

Yes, that was definitely lust they tasted, and the information they gleamed as it first entered them told them it was at least partially for them.

When he’d first realized he was now the carrier for the worst STI in the world, and he was going to spread it, he instinctively envisioned how, and the sight terrified the still prevalent angel on he shoulder. The devil though, was the reason the pre-rendered (he had fantasies to) images kept getting clearer and clearer.

Sunset? Fluttershy? Rarity? Pinkie? even principals Celestia and Luna? He was going to, for lack of a better word, claim them all. The only limits came in the form of said mistresses.

Speaking of whom, Canterlot was full of attractive people, but there was something special about these three (besides the obvious of course).

Their faces were flawless, and their figures were impeccable, but they were somehow. . . aggressive in their teenage beauty. They wore brightly colored and all around very stylized clothes that could catch an eye from a mile away, and the same effort had clearly gone into their flashy hairstyles.

Martin barely tried to deny it, he was attracted to them, the same way he was to Sunset Shimmer when she was still a bitch.

Adagio returned his gaze to the helpless boy in front of her, and looked down to see the slowly growing mound in his crotch.

“Slut.” She taunted with a smile, and grabbed him by the hips and pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss.

All of a sudden Martin felt Adagio’s impossibly warm body pressed tight against his, massive breasts sandwiching against his chest, and after a second, dexterous tongue snaking past his open lips and into his mouth, where she proceeded to dance it around. A minute ago, he wouldn’t even have flinched, but this time, he raised his arms in shock and widened his eyes in surprise, as any normal man would at in such a sudden attack.

The realization that his conscience and desires could once again be synchronized and that he could react according was almost as big a surprise as the kiss. But any new hope he may have had was dashed when he realized he didn’t feel like pushing Adagio away.

After about six seconds into the kiss, Aria had to adjusted to the constant flow of lust, and decided to experience some herself. She circled around behind Martin, momentarily scaring him, since they seemed to be made of unpleasant surprises. But after she disappeared behind his immobile head, he felt two small warm hands on his lowed back, that then slid down under his pants and underwear, and onto his toned hairless male ass.

His arms had returned to rest at his sides (he couldn’t hold them up forever, but their was no way he was resting them on Adagio), but they shot up again at the sudden intrusion, and were kept up when Aria started squeezing and kneading. And when she started using her thumbs to part his cheeks and run along his crack, occasionally brushing her nails painlessly against his sphincter, he actually started give tiny spasms and what sounded an awful lot like moans.

“No, don’t do that! I’m not enjoying this! I can’t enjoy this!” his conscience beat the dead horse, but his erection that was now poking Adagio in the stomach said otherwise. And what’s worse, both his attackers opened their eyes and gave jolts when the third, and probably tastiest emotion they were to gleam from their new fucktoy hit them.

Their sex slave, and tool for conquering this apparent school of magic, was meant to be an attractive boy so it wouldn’t take too much magic to get girls to have sex with him (not even Discord could make Snips work for this plan). The Dazzling, even in their weakened state, could easily have forgone the lust inducing aspect of the charm to simply sing girls into fucking him, but even their sorcery couldn’t modify the necklace to infect people more than three at a time, so that was hardly a practical solution. As such, every ounce of the necklace magical supply that was making a girl horny enough to rape the carrier on the spot (there was no time for intimacy or buildup) wasn’t being used to keep the carrier in line. It was when he was being actively pinned down and raped that Martin would have the best chance of escape, and that spoke volumes about his situation.

Of course, it would be plausible for the Dazzlings to modify the carrier necklace to draw from the siren ones faster as to surpass this problem and control the victim so well the inside voice would disappear, but being who, or what, they were, they’d taken one look at the necklace instructions and knew it didn’t need any improvements.

Every bit of their slave’s genuine (which was even tastier than artificial) fear, anger, lust, and hatred, directed at both their captors and themselves, they’d gobble up since he was already under their control. While he was still growing their army, Martin Saylin would be their personal waiter of the tastiest emotions. Not to mention, long before they’d even chosen him, they’d spent evenings in their apartment talking about how they’d force him to wear the sluttiest male clothes they could find in public, tie him up with intricate ropework in the center of the auditorium to be gang banged by their army while they watched, maybe even suspend the control part of the curse to give him a head start.

They had plans for their new toy, and those plans, they could see, were proceeding even better than expected.

Finally, after no less than 30 continuous seconds of locked lips, Adagio pulled out with a loud smack, and looked Martin in the eyes, her hands still on his hips.

“So. . . What’s your name again?” She asked

“Martin Saylin.” He replied immediately, but with a natural sounding voice.

“A stupid slutty name for a stupid slutty boy.” Aria said in his ear while giving his ass another tight squeeze. Martin’s conscience took time out of complaining to wonder how exactly she justified that comment, even in the form of a taunt, but then Adagio posed a truly terrifying question:

“So, Martin. One: don’t worry, we’ll get you a more appropriate name soon. Two: Where can we be alone in this school?”

The door to the underground heater room shut with a thud and a click, and the four teenagers were alone. Seeing that here was no manual lock, but satisfied that they wouldn’t be disturbed, Aria turned around and joined her sisters in eyeing up their new toy.

Martin stood at the other side of the quiet, empty save for the heaters on the left, room with an unassuming expression hiding his fear.

As he’d answered Adagio’s question, and lead them deeper and deeper into the bowels of the school to the place he knew was best for rapeing someone, he’d done three things with his mind.

Firstly, he’d gotten terrified. With each rounded corner, with each flight of stairs, with each opened door, he felt the second (don’t ask) most terrible experience of his life coming. He’d heard stories about getting raped of course. About how you feel completely and utterly helpless as not just all power, but all your worth as a human being is taken away, and you become someone else's puppet. Martin had never been callous about these stories, but he’d felt terrified and helpless in situations that didn’t involve rape. But needless to say, if by some miracle he escaped from his current predicament, he wouldn’t be watching hentai for a while.

Secondly, he’d stopped screaming at himself mentally to stop, or at least tried. He was afraid, but there was no point. At least before the necklace, he wanted to obey their orders. That desire wasn’t his own of course, but it felt at least plausible that if he could tell what was a command (which wasn’t very hard), he could overcome it with enough willpower. After the necklace though, the desire to serve Sonata, Adagio and Aria became far more comparable to spasming when your knee is hit than to getting an erection when anticipating sex. He couldn’t stop, he couldn’t cry out, he couldn’t even give himself a glum facial expression, so he’d taken a few mental deep breaths, and tried his best to, not accept his fate, but trust it was out of his control. But that proving to be as much of a losing battle as fighting the necklace.

And thirdly, despite his best attempts to think of disembowelment and tumors and his own death, the promise of sex with these lovely young women had proved too great, and he’d remained hard. A fact which was not lost on him as they all stared at him contemplatively.

Each one had their own ideas, but Adagio was the first to say anything.

“Strip.”

Martin instantly thought of a dozen ways to subvert the order; He could do it incredibly slowly, he could ask for specific directions, he could throw his shoes at them. But he was never ordered not to scream for help or kick the crap out of them once the necklace was on. Serving them to the best of his ability was one of the goals that’d been forced on his mind. With neither hesitation nor great haste Martin grabbed the hem of his shirt and peeled it up over his head, baring his hairless chest and abs, which were approved of judging by their collective brow raising, smiles, and satisfied *hmmmmm*s the girls gave.

He tossed it to the side between the boilers, then picked up his right foot and slid his shoe and sock off, then did the same for his left foot.

Seeing that he had no place to go put onto his pants, both parties tensed themselves in the second it took for his hands to reach his waist.

“Here goes nothing,” was the only thought Martin felt even remotely suited the situation. Without a belt (his erection proving the only obstacle) he simply shoved down, and both his jeans and underwear dropped to the floor.

To his slight surprise, the Dazzlings didn’t recoil in shock either at the sight of his 7”, or the shame and despair he was feeding them. They had seen and tasted better, but he’d never felt worse.

The slightly warm air on his whole body, but especially his member felt like Arctic winds. Tearing up or looking down didn’t feel like what they would want, so he stared back at the grinning faces of the three most evil women in the world as far as he was concerned, and waited for his next horrible command. He wasn’t disappointed, because Adagio once again took the initiative, and issued one of her favorites.

“Kiss my boot,” she held out her purple gold ringed low heel. Her sisters looked at her both annoyed and amused. She’d done the same with almost all of their toys when they first got them (provided she was wearing footwear she was proud of). Even after all these years, she still cared this much about being in charge.

Martin to, knew what it meant. And while he’d already told himself to give up, the voice came back full force, telling him that he couldn’t just throw away his dignity, and allow himself to become a cliched subordinate.

He closed the distance between them and knelt down, holding her shoe up with both hands and bringing it to his mouth. In the tight air, Sonata, Aria, and Martin could already smell, the moisture accumulating in her purple clad crotch.

“Why the fuck did I think a few fucking extra credits was worth this?” Martin thought as he put his lips to to smooth fabric, and kissed. And kissed again. And kissed again. She couldn’t even feel the kisses through her boots, but Adagio gave a faint moan.

Martin remembered his positivity training, and was thankful she hadn’t asked him to lick their soles, so at least him psychopathic super-powered rapist was sanitary. He continued to plant light kisses on her shoes for about a minute, before Adagio gave him a second challenge.

“Say you’re a slut.”

“I’m a slut,” he said flatly between pecks.

“Say you like to have naughty things stuck up your butt.”

“I like to have naught things stuck up my butt.”

“Say you love me, and I’m special, and I’m pleasant company!” Sonata blurted out.

Martin actually stopped kissing to join Adagio and Aria in staring at her.

“What?” she shrugged. “You guys never say it.”

Satisfied Sonata was an idiot, they turned back to Martin, who was about to resume kissing.

“Enough.” She pulled her foot away. “Time to really test the merchandise. Start matsurbating.”

Martin stood up, and they all stood back. He wrapped his cock with his hand, and felt just the tiniest bit of hope when he found it’d somewhat softened.

However, he was now obligated to properly masturbate, and so he felt like he needed to call upon images of titty fucking Fluttershy, eating out Rainbow Dash, and being ridden by Sunset. And then Aria gave a light groan, and he was snapped back to the sight in front of him, which only made things worse

He’d been brought down to the basement not out of pragmatism (their sense of dress showed they had very little), but because they wanted to play. As such, Aria was biting her lip and twitching her fingers, Adagio was fumbling with her belt, and Sonata was leaning against the wall, cupping her breast, and sticking her fingers under her blue panties. Needless to say, but painful to admit, that got Martin going again. His cock returned to the steel rod it they’d been promised, and he pumped harder and faster and faster and harder.

The sight of three strangely dressed girls and one undressed boy jerking off to each other would have been a very strange one were there any outside observers. Sonata and Adagio had barely even started proper when they tasted the very strong, certain type of lust, combined with a similarly specific sense of fear they were all too familiar with.

Martin was close, they were evil, so Sonata’s first (obeyed) command:

“Stop”

… Shouldn’t have surprised anyone.

Martin’s hand returned to his side, and he winced in the pain and thrusts his hips forward, an orgasm stolen from his for the first time in his life.

“C’mon man, really?” he asked himself rhetorically as he realized how he’d just made himself look. He’d heard that a rape victim supposedly enjoying it it was always bullshit, so he was obviously seriously questioning his personal integrity.

Sonata stood up off the wall, and walked up to him. Her comrades both looked on with a bit of intrigue, wondering what Sonata was going to do. They’d done a similar dance with boys a thousand times before, and Sonata was the only one with even the slightest bit of unpredictability.

Sonata knelt down in front of Martin, and looked him in the eye as she began unlacing her jacket.

“Oh boy,” the two A’s thought as they stepped around the side for a better view.

“Oh fuck,” Martin thought as she undid the last lace and shrugged the jacket off, leaving behind her pink t-shirt from which her nipples threatened to burst through. They fed off negative emotions, and they all felt great, so do the math as to how Martin was feeling at this point.

He was a fucktoy, or at least, he was about to become one. He’d already been forced to perform one of the most private acts a man had in his repertoire in front of them for their amusement, and he’d enjoyed it, but he still wouldn’t feel properly raped until they’d made him cum with their flesh. And when they finally did steal his first time from him and put all his future experiences in the light of violation (not realizing, or course, that they all looked to be violations in their own right), he had a sinking feeling he’d enjoy it.

His train of terror and self misery was derailed, however, when Sonata peeled her shirt off, and he saw she’d either forgotten a bra today, or was just that impatient to show them to people. Breasts, the largest bare he’d ever seen in person (okay, he admitted it wasn’t a very long list, but they were still pretty big), stood just inches below his cock. Massive breasts (that were in also abundance at CHS) had always played major roles in his fantasies. His member twitched at the notion of what he knew was about to come, but he also felt like feeling her body forced on his might just kill him.

Sonata cupped each of her sizable melons, and didn’t even give Martin the chance to tense himself before she straightened up and swallowed his entire length with her milk tanks.

Martin gave another groan and shut his eyes as this happened. The warm air of the room, plus Sonata’s emotion fueled body made her cleavage a tiny furnace. Still though, it was soft. Impossibly soft. Like perfectly rounded and full pillows. He’d only ever felt the angularity of his own hands on her penis, so this was very new to him.

Sonata gave an open-mouthed smile at Martin’s reaction, and started to pump. At first quite slowly, pressing her tits against his length as hard as possibly without hurting herself, and sliding up and down slowly to ensure massive damage. And every time she overshot a slide up, his tip felt her cloudlike softness for just a split second. Martin was able to keep his eyes clenched shut because he didn’t think it would hinder them in anyway, but obviously it did nothing to hinder the onslaught of crotchly pleasure.

“Stop. Please stop,” he tried his best to make his primary thought. He’d never wanted his first time to be like this. Maybe wearing diapers, but not like this.

Then Sonata flicked her tongue across his tip, and he opened his eyes, only to roll them back with another groan. Then she did it a second time, more sloppily this time, and then a third and so on until the entire upper half of his underside was lubed with her saliva.

And she continued to pump, smearing it further. Warm, wet liquid between his dick and soft walls? He imagined this was what a real pussy would feel like. Also, it felt absolutely fucking wonderful, and that’s why he felt himself coming close.

Again, he closed his eyes, and willed himself to concentrate on something else. Once again, tumors, disemboweled bodies and genocide victims failed to do the trick, but then his dick felt her breasts slide down briefly, and it cold and free again as it whapped back into his stomach.

He opened his eyes, and saw Sonata kneeling below his glistening prick, hard, but now aching dick with a triumphant smile on her face

“Oh crap,” he felt another groan and air hump coming, and it came, so he groaned and humped the air, desperately trying to finish himself off. He’d heard that denial hurt, but he’d never really believed it until now. “Seriously?! Isn’t this all just torture enough?”

But as they pain and haze wore off, he asked himself if he’d really just been mind controlled into getting titfucked by a demon girl, and if he’d really enjoyed it. Fear, anger, hatred, regret, but most prominently, disbelief, washed over him. Like the Fall Formal, he realized that he’d initially just accepted events as they played out, but once it was over, and he had some time to think, it just seemed, no matter how vividly he remembered it and how much time passed without him waking up, like it could never have happened.

But if this was a dream, when he saw Aria walking towards him out of the corner of his eye, it just went from Little Nemo to Nightmare on Elm Street territory.

“Alright. Dag, you’ve had your foot fetish, and Sonny, you’ve had your sentimentalism,”

“I have no idea what that means, but go ahead,” Sonata said below him.

“Yeah, go ahead. You always did do this part best,” Adagio complimented.

Martin turned his head to look Aria in the face.

“It’s time for the big girls to play. On your back, Cutie Pie, which is your new name now. Now!”

Martin wasn’t sure whether to take his new name as a compliment, since Aria seemed more like a “Slut” or “Whore” kind of person. Okay, poor phrasing, but his only real concern was the confusion that might arise when she found out about Pinkie. Anyway, he obeyed with surprising haste, despite the cold concrete floor biting his naked body, and laid his head back uncomfortably, looking up at a now stripping Aria.

She tossed away her cut up jacket, then peeled off her white crop top showing she at least had the modesty for a purple bra to cover her seemingly even larger breasts. She then undid her star belt through and unseen mechanism and discarded it, and quickly took off both her boots and socks and did the same. He wished his heart beat or breath could react accordingly to the terror he felt as he sensed what was about to happen.

But was he really all that terrified? He had to be, right? He may have gotten a bigger erection if Freddy Kruger really did turn up and do his thing to the three of them, but as she peeled down her pants and underwear at the same time, revealing a puffy, dripping hairless pussy, he thought back to the genocide pictures he’d summoned earlier, and the idea of fucking one of those women helped put things in perspective.

By now, the air of the room was thick with the smell of sex, but it was about to get a whole lot worse. Now clad in only her purple bra, Aria stepped one foot over Martin to straddle him, and looked down with her hands proudly on her hips.

“So, Cutie Pie, are you a virgin?”

“Yes” Martin answered casually, preoccupied with the worm’s eye view her pussy and tits.

She got down on her hands and knees, hanging her nipples just inches from Martin’s, and giving him and even better view of her cleavage.

“Well then,” she looked down to properly position herself. “You’re first time’s about to be with the most powerful and gorgeous girl on Earth, and all the other times can be with whomever you want.”

Suddenly, she shifted downwards, and all at once Martin felt his entire cock in the warmest, wettest, tightest place it’d found since a recently used hot water faucet (that was the first worse experience of his life).

Martin expectedly gasped, and spread his arms out at the sudden sensation. Aria only rolled her eyes back a bit (though his girth still felt wonderful), and quickly recovered to pin his arms in place. Her face was now directly above his, and she extended her legs to bring it even closer.

“Where the hell is all your suffering coming from?”

With that, she gave him a lasting, passionate, but aggressive kiss, and began humping and squeezing him with equal ferocity.

Martin was now in sensory overload. His eyes were a beige and purple blur, his nose was all but clogged from the smell of arousal (which he sensed three sources of), and he couldn’t hear a grunt or a slap he couldn’t also feel.

Her kiss felt less like a tongue, and more like having a snake moving around in it. He felt in danger of choking, she pushed so far in. Her grip on his arms to, he noticed, was surprisingly strong. He didn’t care that he was pinned down; he was already used to the lack of control, but the weight of an entire person on top of him, pushing him into the hard floor, was one of the least of, but still a significant, new and frightening feelings he got that day.

But when she finally pulled out of the kiss, and his initial shock started to wear off, he realized Aria had some semblance of a point with her earlier comment.

She slid up and down both his body and dick, coordinating every movement perfectly so that when she came up, his whole shaft was threatened with isolation. But then would shove back down and swallow him whole again and giving it the intense feeling of belonging.

She was also an expert with her pussy, squeezing and contracting so rapidly and stimulatingly, it felt like she had a whole nother hand in her snatch (okay, Martin was on a bad word choice hot streak).

Aria’s smiling face was now a blur of motion, not a blur of close upness. Martin took a chance and looked down her to see her breasts jiggling significantly in above his chest with her every pump. He also realized that she was pistoning him like a steam engine, and he yet he couldn't hear even the smallest rasp from her. And when she did use her mouth, she used it to say two cliches at once.

“That’s it, Cutie Pie! Quit playing hard to get and show us all how much you love serving us!”

When she said this, Martin realized she was right, at least in the sense he was coming close again. He was going to cum inside of her, possibly even get her pregnant. He’d come close with his hand, and closer with Sonata’s breasts, but was this really going to be his first time?

No. Not if he could help it. Martin shut his eyes, and turned his head to the side, trying his damndest to focus on absolutely everything that wasn’t the warm, tights walls milking his dick. 8+7=15. Colonel Kurtz was named Colonel Leighley during filming. Four score and seven years ago… Oh c’mon boy, if you had any will in you we’d never been able to control you.

“Wait, I didn’t say that last one!” he realized, but he also noticed something else. The Trivial Pursuit wasn’t working, but he was still “holding back”, as he believed it was called. He’d never done it before, so he wasn’t sure how he knew how to clench his muscles and block the bursting passage, but she’d never ordered him to to have sex with her, so there was still hope.

Thirty seconds later (which they all admitted wasn’t bad for a first timer), he screamed through his clenched teeth, arched his back, and emptied his balls into her pussy.

The feeling of cum blasting against her inner walls was also beaten only by tasting a violent argument, so Sonata rolled her eyes back and came as well.

For 18 consecutive years, each of them felt their juices spray into and each other as their eyes rolled so far back, it’d be a miracle if they ever saw again. Aria was in absolute bliss, but Martin’s whole life and conscience flashed before his eyes.

If what Aria said was true (which it technically was), he’d just, no he still was shooting his load into the next great villain of CHS because he was too weak. Dignity and hope fled from his as fast as his sperm did, and when all three were empty, he collapsed on the floor, hoping his heart would give out like the rest of him so he wouldn’t have to continue.

But he still had a mission, and Aria still had superhuman stamina. She stopped with only the slightest of sighs, and looked down at his dead expression with yet another malicious grin.

“So, Cutie Pie, weren’t you supposed to give us a tour?”