Fractures

by Flutterpriest

Rating: mature
Tags: Violence, Dark, Human, Anon, Porn, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Second Person, Fetish, Maud Pie, Sex
Length: 4377

You and your marefriend, Maud, use an intense night of kink, not for sexual gratification, but to work through a genuine struggle that she needs to come to terms with.

You and your marefriend, Maud, use an intense night of kink, not for sexual gratification, but to work through a genuine struggle that she needs to come to terms with. Chances are that she can withstand anything you throw at her... but can you keep going?

Contains: BDSM, Consenting Non-Consent, Mental Break, Crying, Themes of Depression and Suicide, and the name 'Anon'.

Published 2018-09-14 05:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2018-09-14 05:20:01 UTC

Shear

Sex with Maud Pie is a little weird.

Don't get me wrong, you've dated her for quite awhile. A relationship with her is relaxing after dating some of the other mares in Ponyville. She's just so chill. Cool as a cucumber. Some of the other mares will wilt like a flower in heat at the slightest anxious event. Heck, that Roseluck mare fell over like a startled goat when you went around a corner too fast.

Except, there’s still one little problem with Maud. That is, she can be a bit too cool sometimes.

After the first time the two of you had sex, you had to have a serious sit down discussion with her about showing what you're feeling during sex. Like, you love her, but you felt like you were fucking a sex doll. She just... stared at you, and...

Well that's not the point. And believe it or not, sex isn't what your story is about. Not exactly.

You're sitting at the kitchen table with your marefriend. She's talking about her rock excavation dig, which you listen in and out of. She told you once before that you didn't have to like or follow every little detail of her expeditions. And you recognized how awesome it was when she once found a diamond deposit. And you also recognize how easy it is for her to make bits with her work. Like, holy shit.

No, she's not your sugar momma. At least, you keep telling yourself that.

Honestly though? Rocks get kind of boring after awhile. So, she tolerates your things that she’s not a fan of, and you tolerate… rocks.

"Anon," Maud says as flatly as ever. You nearly choke on your spaghetti. Like, the actual food. Not the turn of phrase. You choke down your food and take a sip of water, for fear of being caught not listening. Again.

"Yeah?" you reply, wondering if you were focusing on your own internal monologue for too long. Why do you always keep doing that? Get it together.

"I want to talk about something important, if that's alright with you."

"Of course!"

You're getting dumped.

No. Stop. Why do you always do that to yourself? Everytime a lady wants to talk about something, it doesn't mean you're getting dumped. Stop panicking. Having that much anxiety will lead you to an early grave.

"We've been going out for a very long time now..." she says, her voice trailing off.

Okay. You're definitely getting dumped. No. Stop. Shut up, brain. Let her speak.

"And I want to share something somewhat private with you. Then, ask for your help."

You swear, if you have pony AIDS now... this will be the second worst day of the month.

"Of course," you say, like a good boyfriend. Stallionfriend. Whatever. "I'm here for you, Maud. Let it out."

Maud pauses.

It was at this moment that you became concerned. If there's one thing you learned about Maud, it's that she says it like it is. There's no beating around the bush. She just says what's on her mind. No delicate phrases. No sweet talk. Just blunt meaning. And right now she's pausing to think and choose her words.

This is serious.

"I need you to help me express emotions," Maud says.

And now you sit up straight, genuinely concerned.

"Where's this coming from?" you ask. "Pinkie is always able to pick up on your emotions. I’ve had my own way of learning how you feel. Why does the way that you express feelings matter now?"

"Because the mailmare came to me to say that Father got hurt on the farm. And I didn't even shed a tear." Her eyes are vacant. You could almost say not much more than usual, but there was a shift in the air surrounding you two. You pause.

“I had no idea,” you mutter.

"I've had a lot of weird looks before. I'm used to them. They don't bother me. But this bothered me. The mailmare looked as if I were heartless. Like she prepared to deliver the bad news and knew it would shatter somepony. And when I didn’t, her reaction hurt me. I'm hurting. And... I feel like my whole body is about to burst at any moment, but I can't. I can’t break."

The gravity of the situation begins to seep into your thick skull. You were making fun of this earlier. The way she acts... How she feels... What kind of callous person are you?

On the bright side, you aren't getting dumped. But right now that’s not important.

In fact, now that you think about it, her actions are showing immense trust. Maud almost never talks about her feelings. Not… well, her deepest feelings. Let alone feel guilty for who she is. How she is.

"Okay," you say, getting right to the point. She always preferred when you got to brass tacks instead of trying to be gentle about sore subjects. "How can I help?"

Once again, Maud pauses. You take a moment to drink your water. Hoping it wouldn’t make her feel guilty for choosing her words.

"We've been having a lot of sex recently," she interjects.

You nearly spit out your drink. Instead, it goes down your lung the wrong way. See, this is the type of shit that a week from now, you'll laugh and joke about. Instead, it's you who got caught off guard by crass comments, rather than the other way around for a change.

"Is sex with me that bad?" she asks monotonously, almost hurt.

"No! I just," you clear your throat. "I wasn't expecting that."

"There's a reason I’m bringing this up. See, I've been doing a lot of research, and I've been listening to Rarity during girl's night. I want to try something new."

You pause, waiting for her to continue. She instead stares at you with that dead-eye glare that makes you wonder if you missed something important...

"Go on," you say.

"I want you to beat me until I cry," she says.

"Okay, no deal," you immediately say and rise to your feet.

Maud looks down to the table, wounded by your words. If it weren't for little quirks like these, it would be impossible to tell how she feels.

"Like," you continue. "I'm not going to punch you in the face, or break your hoof, or beat you up."

Maud's eyes look back up to you.

"Oh, well, that's a relief. I was thinking something similar to spanking anyway."

"Oh, well, that's not beating someone up," you say.

"But I thought the phrase was to kick somepony's butt."

"Yeah, but," you say, then pause. This isn't really a path you want to go down, or this will turn into some sort of Who's on First bullshit. "Yeah, I'll spank you. But we should do this right. And we need a safe word."

Maud glares at you, as usual, but rephrases her request.

"I want you to spank me until I cry."

You pause. This is... unreal. Does she really know what she’s asking for?

"Are you sure?" you ask, your voice low, firm, and strong.

Maud remains silent for only a moment.

"Yes."

Crack

It's been about two days since that conversation. You got in touch with the right ponies. You have a paddle in your hand with some serious heft. You're just in boxers, staring in the mirror of the master bathroom. You told her to get on the bed and wait for you. This may not be your first night as a dom. But this isn’t exactly something you’ve done before.

The parameters are simple in theory. Spank until she cries. The problem is in the request itself. Maud never cries. You've only seen her crack a smile once. Even then? That was a faint one. That was when you agreed to move in with her. You can't help but feel like this is... unsafe.

To clarify, if she tells you to stop. You keep going. If she begs. You keep going. If she bleeds… If you feel a crunch...

She has a few days she can afford to put off work. She'd been stockpiling gems for something like this, so she can recover from the bruising.

The amount of trust she's putting into you in this moment is… terrifying. Would you allow someone else to do this to you?

That’s not really the point, is it?

This is your role. This is your job. You are her Dom. Even if the two of you never do something like this again, you must play your part. She was adamant about this. You have to do this right. You straighten yourself in the mirror, take a deep breath, and center your mind.

This is for her.

No matter what happens, don't stop. Just like she said.

You exit the door, and Maud lays on the bed, presenting herself up in the air.

"Last chance. Are you sure you want to do this?" you ask, feeling a part of you shrivel inside. You do your best not to let it show. You must be strong for her.

"Yes," she says flatly.

You place the paddle on the bed in front of her, for her to see. Taunting. Threatening. The two of you picked it out together, but this was supposed to... raise tension, according to Rarity. You then move to a drawer and pull out a long, industrial strength rope. Just like you've practiced, you tie knots around her hooves, then around her hind legs, and then to the bedpost. Now, even if her leg muscles fail her, you can keep going. You reach for the same drawer for where you grabbed the rope and pull out a knife. This is not to hurt her. This is to cut the rope, and get her free as quickly as possible for aftercare.

You take a deep breath. This is emotional therapy. Focus.

You raise a hand, and slap her rear.

Nothing.

“Turn your head so I can see your face,” you command. She obeys.

You raise your hand, then slap again, the fleshy smack echoing off the walls of the room. Maud stares at you, remaining as calm as ever.

“Not enough?” you ask.

“No,” she replies.

You flex your fingers to strike with your knuckles, creating a sharper, piercing sting, as opposed to a dull slap. Your hand comes down hard. Harder than you meant. You can feel as your palm strikes against her hind bones. Her face remains as nonplussed as ever. You can feel your hand begin to redden.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you’re enjoying this,” you growl.

“Not really,” she says flatly.

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

“Anon, you really don’t have to do all of the aggressive sexy talk. I’m not really doing this for sexual pleasure.”

You sigh and shake your head.

“Like, I’m just trying to feel powerful here. This really isn’t something that’s super easy for me.”

“Then just do it,” she says. “Besides, I can see you holding your wrist like it’s hurt.”

“Well,” you want to retort and defend your semi-broken manhood, but let’s face facts for a second. You hurt your hand trying to spank a small marshmallow horse. You don’t really get a defense.

Except that she breaks rocks with her bare hooves. So that’s something.

You grab the paddle and sigh to yourself.

“Alright then,” you say. Without warning, you bring the paddle down on Maud’s ass. It collides with a solid slap that rings in your ears. Your amazed at the amount of noise it created with so little force.

Maud blinks.

“That wasn’t fun,” she says.

“Yeah?” you say.

You raise your weapon up, and slam it down once more.

“Well how do you like that?” you ask, feeling that confidence return once more.

She blinks again. Her behind is notably changing color as the blood rises to the surface of her skin. This is going to bruise. Well, you suppose you already knew that.

“I really don’t,” she says.

“Too fucking bad.” You raise the paddle again and bring it down once more. Another crack. Her body flinches. She blinks twice. You can see her hooves pull on her restraints.

You raise the paddle again, and down, once again. Again. Again.

You swallow the saliva in your mouth as you can feel each of the muscles in your arm flex and relax. You breathe, and you can hear her breath quicken. Her expression is unmoved.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” she says.

“Too fucking bad,” you say.

You raise the paddle, and strike her once more.

“Ouch,” she says.

Her rear is becoming noticeably purple. Her tail hangs limply to the side, not even attempting to cover herself. You aren’t sure if the erection in your pants is from arousal, or the sheer exercise of force and power. Either way, you know that isn’t what you’re here for. This is about her emotional release. Not a physical one.

“Music to my ears,” you answer.

You raise the paddle once more and bring it down harder than before. What was supposed to be a near slick slap, was a dull collision. The vibrations reverberate back in an unusual way. You were warned about this. That was bone.

“Ouch, Stop,” she says.

You raise the paddle once more, and bring it down in the same spot. The same dull thud. You close your eyes. Doing it like this doesn’t give you any sort of pleasure. A lump lodges itself in your throat.

“That hurts,” she responds. “Stop.”

“No.”

You raise the paddle in the air.

“Anon, I said stop.”

You bring it down with as much force as you can muster. Another wet slap. But it’s wet for a different reason. You look down, noticing that the paddle slid in an unusual way.

She gasps in pain.

A trickle of blood runs down her left hind leg.

You turn away for a moment. You take a deep breath. For some reason, you hoped this wouldn’t happen. That she’d break down and cry over her father being hurt way earlier than this. However, this is Maud Pie we’re talking about. You should have known better.

“Anon, this this isn’t going to work,” Maud says, her voice breathier than normal. “Let’s just stop here.”

You release your deep breath.

You grip the paddle with both hands. With a few quick strides, you’re beside her once more. Wielding the paddle like a baseball bat, you swing for the bleachers.

Maud’s gasp fills the room. A small spatter of blood splashes onto your skin. The collision covers her whole rear end. Including her delicate spots. You feel your shoulders revolt at the lack of follow through from the swing.

You ignore them as you reel back once more.

“Please,” she says, raising her voice.

You swing.

She gasps again. She coughs. She closes her eyes and tries to catch her breath.

“Please stop, Anon,” she says, “it-”

Before she can finish her words, you strike her again. And again.

The blood runs in a thin, steady stream, thinly layering her rear and the paddle itself. You’ve opened the wound further. Her privates are nearly a purple, swollen… you’d prefer not to envision that.

You bite your lip, feeling a guilt pooling inside you. You try to swallow that lump, but it follows you. Stalks your decision. You’re a horrible boyfriend. Look at what you’re doing to her. Just stop. You’re a terrible person. You fucking pathetic failure of human flesh.

You raise the paddle and strike the pony you love most. She bleeds onto the bed. Needlessly. She bleeds because she wants to break. Do you think she bleeds for you, you sick fuck? No. You’re crossing a line.

You raise the paddle and strike her again.

“Please stop,” she says, her voice cracking.

“That’s not crying.”

You raise the paddle and strike again. The slap hisses in your ear. You feel a slip. A crunch. A snap.

She gasps louder than ever, her voice quietly moans. You’ve broken a part of her. Some bone. Something is badly hurt.

She should see a doctor.

“Stop,” she mumbles. “Please.”

You strike her again.

She screams out in pain and breathes through clenched teeth.

“Get out of my house,” she growls. “I never want to see you again. Stop it.”
You strike her again. A loud crack rings through the room. Then, a dull thud.

You hold the handle in your hand, as the paddle falls to the floor. A red stain gently sinks into the carpet. Maud’s body releases, and her muscles give away.

She gently whimpers from the pain, her face buried into a pillow. Blood runs down her legs. You grit your teeth.

“It… broke?” she asks. You can hear hope in her voice. A fragility. Almost as if she were made of glass right now.

“Yeah,” you say, your voice low.

“Okay then,” she says, her voice becoming more calm. “Untie me then. I think I need to go to the hospital.”

“No.”

A silence falls over the room as you turn around.

“What?” she yells after you as you step out of the room. “Wait, Wait!”

You know what you need to do. The scene doesn’t end until she cries. You walk into the hallway. Step down the hall. Into the kitchen. Pull your weapon out of a drawer. Then return.

You pull the pillows away from her. Her eyes look up at you in terror.

You are officially the worst boyfriend she’s ever had. You will probably never see her again after this. You’ve pushed this too far.

You toss a meat tenderizer, with metal tips on the bed in front of her eyes.

“You’ve had enough of a break,” you say.

“No… No,” she chokes.

You grab the hammer from in front of her face.

This is your last chance.

You move behind her where she can’t see what you’re doing.

“ANON. STOP. STOP IT RIGHT NOW.”

You set the hammer on the ground and pick up the broken paddle.

You only have one shot at this.

You raise the paddle over your head. And swing it down with all of your might.

Her scream cries out through the room, and then, silence.

You focus your voice into a low-evil growl. You try to pour every bit of malice you’ve ever felt into one phrase. One phrase that, if it works, will set her free.

“This is what you deserve.”

Silence.

Then, a whimper. Two short gasps of air. A choking cough. And then, a pained, exasperated cry escapes Maud’s lips.

You grab the knife and immediately cut the ropes down. Her body brokenly falls on the bed, as if lifeless. Her only movement is from the heaves of her sobs. Her voice fills the room as she openly and freely wails. You cover her with a thick blanket and pull her in close to you. She can’t even resist as you feel her tears fall against your chest.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

“It’s not… It’s… It’s not okay,” she cries, trying to shoot out words through her gasps for breath. “I’m… I’m worthless.”

“You’re not worthless,” you whisper.

“I.. I can’t... even cry i-if my dad is about to die,” she sniffs and hyperventilates, her hooves limply pushed against you, snot dribbling down your chest. “What kind of daughter am I?”

“One that he loves very, very much,” you whisper in her folded ears. “And you know it.”

“N-no he doesn’t. It’s about the farm,” she spits angrily. The venom in her voice could kill an army. “It’s always the farm. It’s always about the farm and the family. And Limestone just makes it all worse. Even if he dies it’ll still be about the farm and family. Farm and family.”

Her tears trail to the bedsheets. You feel your legs lay in a warm pool of liquid, her physical body failing to control even basic functions.

“He gets hurt and he doesn’t even go to the hospital,” she growls. “Where was he when I always got hurt? I could just die and he wouldn’t even care.”

“You know that’s not true,” you whisper.

“No,” she continues. “It is. You know it is. Do you know the times I’ve tried? The times I’ve thought about ending it? How shallow everything is? There is nothing for me here. What is even the point?”

You pause, listening to her words. You never had any idea she felt like… this.

“If it weren’t for Marble and Pinkie, maybe I would be. Just dead in a ditch somewhere and he’d go, ‘well it’s time to hire some help,’”

“You know that isn’t true,” you say.

“I just…” she tries to create words… but all that comes out is a mess of sounds as she moves her hooves just to pull herself closer to you. You wrap your arms around her and hold her close. The wails of her voice echo in the cavern of your embrace.

“I’m awful for feeling this way,” she whimpers. “Like I’m better off dead. Maybe I should be.”

“No,” you interrupt. “You will NOT speak to yourself that way again, do you understand,” you growl. “You are loved. And I love you. And I’ve got you right here. I am not letting you go. You are safe. You are secure.”

She sobs quietly into your arms. Listening. Her mind is weak, frail. Putty in your hands.

“Even if your father has made mistakes in the past, I know he loves you, and cares about you. And he’s proud of you. You have reservations about him. All family does. But it does not make you weak or a bad pony for not being able to express complex emotions. Nothing anypony thinks matters or should make you feel bad for being who you are.”

She pulls you closer to her, and you grip her tightly. Your mind flashes to the first aid kit in the bathroom. The wounds on her rear are still very treatable, but you should definitely still go to an emergency room for the bone break-

“Please don’t leave me.”

You blink, and every thought you had fades away. It can all wait.

“I would never dream of it.”

Her sobs continue on, and on, but you keep holding her. You gently whisper in her ear that you love her, and that you’ve got her. That she’s safe. That she’s going to be okay.

Everything’s going to be okay.

Author's Note

btw none of this is healthy kink.

Mend

You sit in the waiting room of the hospital. You blink, looking from table, to the front desk where the nurse eyes you carefully.

A part of you feels uncomfortable being here. The circumstances are certainly… not normal.

You turn to your marefriend, whose lower torso is in a sort of isolation rig. She can walk on her two front legs, and the wheels in the back roll with her. It’s been… an inconvenient three weeks. But soon she'll be back to normal.

She looks to meet your gaze, and smiles.

You smile back.

A nurse pony walks up to the two of you, you sitting in a chair and Maud… well. Standing there.

“Your father will see you now,” she says.

“Thanks,” she says flatly. She looks to you and nods.

“Are you ready?” you ask.

“Yeah,” she says in her signature tone. But you hear strength behind her words. Determination.

“I’m right behind you,” you say.

“Uhm,” the nurse says, stepping forward. “I’m afraid it’s family only right now…”

Maud blinks, glaring at her.

“He will be,” she says flatly.

Oh. Well, that’s something she just said.

With that, she steps aside and walks down the hall. You give the nurse a near apologetic look, but follow after your marefriend. You’re going to take all of those happy feels that you’ve just garnered and talk about them later.

Maud pauses outside of her father’s recovery room. You stand beside her. You hear the gentle hum of the machines in his room.

“I’m here every step of the way,” you whisper to her. You place a hand near the base of her neck. She takes a deep breath, and then steps inside.

You follow behind her, ensuring you don’t encroach on… their moment.

“Hi Dad,” she says flatly.

“Maud,” the stallion says just as flatly.

“How are you holding up?” she asks, stepping beside his bed. You and her father exchange a quick, silent glance. You nod. His gaze returns to her.

“I have two hooves left,” he spits.

Your eyes wander. Sure enough, one of his front and back hooves are both missing. You try your best to contain your wince. Crushed. Amputated.

“I understand what that feels like,” Maud says quietly. “The timing is uncanny.”

Her father smiles.

“Your humor has always done me wonders, Maud.”

You can’t help but contain a smile as she places a hoof on her father’s free resting front hoof. A small tear trickles down his face.

“What’s wrong, Dad?” Maud asks gently.

“Gah, it’s nothing. I’m fine,” he growls.

Maud blinks.

“You’re not fine. Tell me.”

Maud’s father swallows the saliva in his mouth then looks from you, to her.

“‘I'm afraid I can’t dance with you at your wedding now, dear,” he said. “I’ve really messed up.”

He closes his eyes and looks away from Maud.

“I just hope you can forgive me,” he mumbles.

Then, to your surprise, you look down to your fiancé, and you see a tear run down her cheek.

“Don’t worry, Dad,” she says gently, her flat tone fading. “We still will.”

Author's Note

Relevant

100 stories. Well. I really hope you guys like this one. the 100th story is supposed to be big and important and special, right? Well. I hope that someone enjoys it. Whatever this is. Be sure to let me know what you think. If you liked this, maybe check out "Her Most Faithful Servant" that Pencil and I did. That's -actually healthy- kink. And stuff.