The Consensual Kink Collection

by Manifest Harmony

Racehorse, by Winter Thorn (Public Use, Really Hot Watersports)

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Author's Note

Written by veteran CTS Author Winter Thorn, author of the CTS EQG story Clocktower Terra Nova. Be sure to check out Winter's story and give Winter a follow and lots of ideas for a new CTS story!

Featuring the editing talents of: Silent Whisper

Contains: watersports, piss play, marking, D/s, Dom/sub, BDSM, desperation, Master/slave, griffon, Diamond Dog, unicorn, pegasus, changeling, CTS, explicit, f/m, het, f/f, lesbian.


Racehorse, by Winter Thorn (Public Use, Really Hot Watersports)

Gwen let her eyes drift closed and sighed, interrupting the purr rumbling from her throat. She had her head pillowed on Brute’s thighs, and after a long day at work, feeling his claws card lightly through the feathers behind her ears was the cherry on top of the particular slice of heaven that was the Clocktower.

She had her collar on, but they hadn’t actually done anything yet. Both of them preferred to take some time to get into the right headspace before starting play, and Gwen guessed it was going to be a slow day regardless. She wondered if she could get Brute to gag her. Lazy Saturday evenings were the best when you didn’t have to talk.

All too soon, Brute’s fingers tapped lightly on the back of her skull. “Time to get up, kittybird.”

“Mm.” She didn’t move. Too comfy.

“Kittybird. Up. Got to make water. Couch not my territory.”

“‘m your territory.”

He laughed. “You want to prove it?”

Gwen’s brain finally caught up with her mouth, and she looked up at Brute, suddenly tense. “I. Um.”

He looked down at her. His paw was still on the back of her neck, just above her collar. “Hmm?”

“Don’t you have to...?” she tried weakly.

He sighed. “Kittybird, what is rules?”

“Uh. No secrets, no lies, no hurting myself.”

“Good.” The grip on her neck feathers firmed. “You hiding something. Spill.”

She turned her face into his lap and mumbled something.

“Kittybird,” he warned.

“I... kind of do want that? I wasn’t really thinking when I said it but, um.” She winced preemptively, took a breath, and spit it out. “The thought of you peeing on me really turns me on. I know that’s... gross, um-”

Brute snorted. “Am Diamond Dog. Authority on gross. You not. How come?”

“I don’t know?” Gwen pinched her tongue in the side of her beak, the griffon version of chewing on one’s lip. “I don’t think I can explain it, it’s just.” She arched her back to let Brute slide his free paw under her rump. He did, then inspected the resulting slick fur.

“Hmm.”

Gwen tried to seem relaxed, even though Brute could no doubt hear her heart beating like she was cornered prey.

“Think I want to see this,” he decided. He paused, then added, “Got to move anyway, kittybird. Still not my couch.”

She laughed, more out of sheer relief than anything else, and rolled off his lap onto the ground. He stood and collected her leash from the side table, clipped it to her collar, and took up the slack when she heeled. He scratched the top of her head idly while he thought.

“You want other people to see?”

Her breath caught. “Maybe? Yes? I think so.”

Brute gave her a speculative look. Even for a Diamond Dog, he was tall when he stood upright, and towered over Gwen when she was on all fours. The height difference made it hard for her to decipher his expression, and she shifted her weight in nervous anticipation.

She followed obediently at his signal, wondering where they were going. They’d been in one of the common areas of East’s main concourse, and Gwen had assumed they would head back towards the entrance, to their private suite. Instead, Brute led her deeper into the Clocktower, all the way to the Lower Dungeon gateway.

One of the guardsponies stationed at the threshold looked them over. Gwen gave her golden bell a ring, and the unicorn nodded at Brute and let them by without incident.

Brute stopped in front of the area map and peered at the list of guilds. Gwen felt her tail start flicking back and forth. She was vaguely aware of what guilds operated down here, but only peripherally for most of them. Brute couldn’t seriously be thinking-?

She was too well-trained to question her Master, though, and kept to his side as he walked.

Brute glanced down once they’d branched off the main platform. “Kittybird. Tell me what you like.”

“...Chocolate and wing rubs?”

He swatted her flank. “I’m gonna piss on you. Only if you tell me.”

“I... I really don’t know why, I’m just-”

“What, not why.”

Gwen resettled her wings. Crowns and coins, why was this so hard? She fixed her eyes on the floor in front of her feet. If she had to look at Brute she’d never get a word out.

“I like the... sensation,” she said slowly. “Or I think I do, that’s - that’s what I think about, I’ve, um, never actually. Uh. Being - for - I’m sorry, I know I’m not making sense.”

“Is fine. Has to be true, not sound nice.”

She took a breath. In. Out. Her body was trying to panic. She noticed, and set it aside. Brute wouldn’t ask her to do something hard without a reason, and he wouldn’t ask if he didn’t think she could do it.

“I like, um. A sort of - casual attitude? Like - that’s what I’m for, like some kind of - of public fixture, you know? Like it’s normal, that I’m just there to be-” She had to force the next words out. “-pissed on, give other people some relief. Um. I like the, the sensation - I already said that. Feeling it, like, it’s really happening. I don’t think the smell or taste so much, I’ve never gotten the... drinking it thing. There’s, I can’t decide whether it would be better if the - other person was into it too or if they just didn’t care but wanted to see me react, so I guess I’d like both ways.” She worried at her tongue again, unsure if she’d said too little or too much.

Brute tilted his head to the side. They’d split off the main path several more times, and had just entered a small pavilion with buildings on three sides. The central building was essentially one large room with a back wall and pillars holding up a roof. A pony and a changeling were stationed at a desk on one side. The other buildings had more typical construction, with one labeled “Equipment” and the other blank - presumably private rooms. The pony at the desk saw them and waved cheerily.

“Sit. Stay,” Brute commanded, and walked over to the desk to speak with the people there.

Gwen was left holding her leash in her mouth, ass planted on the floor and eyes darting between every available surface in her field of view. Okay, so this was the watersports guild. She’d suspected their destination back by the map, but she hadn’t wanted to guess wrong. She felt a little bolder just sitting there, less like this was all going to turn out to be a cruel prank. Not that she actually thought it would, but... her racing pulse didn’t know that. Neither did her damp thighs.

Brute returned, carrying a large permanent marker and a piece of cardboard. He took up her leash and led her over to one of the pillars, where he tied her out on one of the convenient anchors. She laid down, now that she had the slack for it and could be pretty sure she wouldn’t have to move.

The floor was cool tile, and slanted ever so slightly towards the nearest open drain, set flush with the floor. It was dry, so either nobody had come by in a while or there was a spell doing cleanup. Likely both, considering the showerheads set at intervals in the far wall.

The cardboard and marker went on the other side of the pillar while Brute got himself a folding chair from the back of the room. He set it up close enough to her that she could reach him to be petted, but far enough away that he was clearly not part of... whatever this was going to be. The poster, he wrote a few words on, before propping it up against the pillar. It was facing the pavilion, which meant Gwen had no idea what it said. She craned her neck. No luck.

Brute caught her cheek with one paw, not ungently. He crouched in front of her and turned her head towards his face, holding her chin steady. “You mine,” he said, and there was just enough of a growl to the words that Gwen shivered. “Mine first.

“Yours,” Gwen whispered. “Always yours.” And she meant it.

“Made me wait,” Brute said.

Gwen’s mouth went dry. Her tail lashed once before she stilled it. Entirely without her input, her clit throbbed in time with her pulse.

She expected her Master to stand - she wasn’t really sure what she was expecting, if she was honest. This was so far outside of anything she had thought might happen that she didn’t even have a fitting fantasy to hope for, just a wild exhilaration taking up space in her lungs.

He stayed crouching, though, and firmed his grip on her jaw, pulling her head up, not quite far enough that she had to move, but enough that she had to tilt her head and stretch her neck, almost uncomfortably. Her face was level with his chest, and his eyes were locked on hers.

So intent was his stare that Gwen started sharply when she felt liquid impact her chest, and automatically tried to look down. Brute’s paw stopped her.

“Want to see you,” he said roughly.

Gwen gasped and ground her hips down into the floor, though the smooth tile gave her little relief. “Fuck, fuck,” she said. “I didn’t think - please keep talking. Can I see?”

His eyes glinted in amusement. “Pick one, kittybird.”

“Fuck - !” She squeezed her eyes shut. That he was so blase made sense, but to the part of her that found this intensely erotic, his attitude just served to make her even more desperate. “I didn’t - I don’t - can I touch myself-” She shut up. Fuck seeing it, she could hear his piss splattering against her feathers and the floor, feel it soaking the fur on her abdomen, warm and wet.

Barely thinking about it, she shifted and dug one of her heels into her vulva. Sloppy - fuck, she had no traction, didn’t let that stop her from chasing after whatever friction she could.

Brute finished, and then the only sound between them was Gwen’s panting. He pulled her forward without finesse and worked his other paw between her hind legs. She shuddered against his fingers in gratitude, moved her body on sheer instinct, pressed her beak to the outside join of his hip as she came.

Brute moved his paw away - she got sensitive, and it was uncomfortable. “Prettybird,” he murmured.

Gwen caught her breath. She took some of her own weight on her front feet when she was able. “Thank you,” she started, then couldn’t think of anything remotely true enough to tack on to the end of that sentence. “Thank you.”

He shifted to sit, then thought better of it and scooted around so he was on higher ground than Gwen. She snorted a little.

“Still not my thing,” he said. “But you. Like it you look like that.”

Gwen blushed, and felt ridiculous for doing so. She was lying in a puddle of urine, for sun’s sake. The time for embarrassment was long past.

“Think we stay here a while,” Brute said. “Hmm?”

Gwen inhaled sharply and rose up on her toes. Her cunt thought that was a great idea. Gwen was less enthusiastic about the sudden twinge and gush of fluid it produced. She nodded anyway. “Yes, please.” A thought occurred to her. “You wanna fuck me? I bet you could fit, like, twelve dicks in there with how wet I am.”

Brute looked tempted, but said, “Maybe after bath, kittybird.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Read to me?” Brute was by no means illiterate, but had trouble focusing on the small type that was typical of most books. Gwen didn’t get headaches from reading, and loved entertaining her Master that way.

She agreed, and he rose to solicit a book of some sort from the pony and changeling at the desk. She moved to a dry spot, noting that she’d been right about the mild cleaning spell over the place.

He returned with a well-worn copy of, appropriately, one of Heart Song’s non-serial novels. There was a bookmark stuck inside the front cover. Gwen looked it over, glanced at the back cover, then found the first page and cleared her throat.

“Lily Blossom found herself hopelessly lost in the market on her first day in West Halter....”


After an hour or so, it was actually the changeling that approached them next.

“Nah, you don’t have to get up,” he said, waving a hoof. “Just gotta piss, figured I’d come over and see if you were free-use.”

Gwen glanced at Brute, suddenly and desperately hoping the answer was yes. He smirked and took the book from her, marking the page they were on.

The changeling inspected the sign that Gwen had nearly forgotten about. “‘Place to pee,’” he read. “‘Avoid head.’ Well, okay, that seems fair.”

Gwen flushed, and hoped the changeling couldn’t see her red face under her fur.

Brute, on the other hand, caught her expression. “Wrong?”

“...No,” she admitted.

“Cool,” the changeling said, and without further ado braced one of his hind legs on her rump and let go.

Gwen’s reaction was much less dynamic than when Brute had pissed on her, but it was still good for the changeling that he had three other legs to balance on. She shivered, enjoying the impact and the warmth, and the pleasant thrum of arousal it kindled.

Suddenly, she realized no one was holding her head still this time, and that the changeling not only wouldn’t mind if she watched, but would probably appreciate it. So she did.

His head was tipped down, eyes half-lidded in relief and pleasure. He made a low noise in his throat when he noticed her watching.

“It’s - not yellow?” she half-asked, surprised.

The changeling finished pissing and shook himself a little. “Nah. We process it different, so it turns out kinda green like that.”

“Huh,” Gwen said, distantly wondering if she was actually dreaming. This was not how she thought her day was going to go.

On the other paw: best. Dream. Ever.

The changeling backed off her, cock starting to stiffen. Again, he saw her looking. “Cherry Soda’s got a... thing, don’t worry.” He trotted a few steps, then paused to add to Brute, “Pet’s a fuckin’ natural. She’s gorgeous all soaking like that.” He winked at Gwen, then started back over to the desk, where the pony had been watching avidly and was now theatrically licking his lips.

Brute came back over to hand off the book, and mussed the feathers on her forehead while he was at it. “My kittybird,” he said, obviously pleased.

She purred, and found the place where she’d left off.


“‘Lily found herself captivated not by the drake’s words, but by the curl of his tongue as he sp-’ Hmm?”

Brute had nudged her, and now he pointed across the pavilion at two new ponies, a unicorn and the pegasus wearing her collar, white with a prominent purple band and a few miscellaneous badges. The pegasus had the awkward, stiff-legged gait of someone trying incredibly hard to control their body; the unicorn seemed unconcerned but kept smirking when she thought her slave wasn’t looking.

They walked over to the desk and spoke briefly with the pair there. Gwen couldn’t hear them, but felt her heart rate pick up when the changeling pointed over at her. The unicorn nodded and tugged her slave in the right direction - or tried to. The pegasus took one step and immediately pressed her back legs together, shooting the unicorn a desperate look. The unicorn’s horn lit, and the slave relaxed a little, though Gwen couldn’t see what the magic was doing.

Brute had taken the book from her by the time the ponies reached them. The unicorn gave them both an appraising once-over. “I’m Crystal Cut,” she introduced herself to Brute.

“Am Brute,” he said.

“I’m Gwen,” Gwen said, and at the unicorn’s glance, explained, “Master has trouble saying it, I’m not disobeying.”

“Mm,” said Crystal.

“Is my kittybird,” Brute rumbled. Gwen grinned despite herself.

The pegasus jerked suddenly, involuntarily, and whimpered. Crystal looked at her, vaguely amused. “Guess who hasn’t been allowed to relieve herself since this morning?” she commented to Brute and Gwen.

“Gonna guess that one,” Brute drawled.

“Give the stallion a prize!” Crystal said, then caught herself. “Er-”

“What I win?”

“Hmm.” She considered. “Whaddaya say to fucking my slave’s throat?”

Brute laughed and spread his legs. Gwen perked up, interested and not a bit jealous. Her beak meant it was pretty much impossible for her to get her mouth on Brute’s cock safely, much to her disappointment. Seeing someone else do it wasn’t a very good substitute, but she’d take what she could get.

The pegasus hesitated for a moment, shifting her hooves.

Crystal put a hoof to her slave’s cheek. “You suck him off and then ask her nicely, and I won’t make you wait until you lose it and make a mess on the floor.”

She stared at Crystal, then nodded frantically. Crystal released her and gave her a push in Brute’s direction, no longer bothering to hide her grin.

Again, the slave hesitated, probably on seeing Brute’s erect cock and clearly wondering how that would possibly fit in her mouth. He caught her skepticism and laughed again. “Come here.”

He guided her gently between his knees, then pet the corner of her jaw when she took him in her mouth. “Relax.”

She shuddered and dipped her head. Brute groaned and wound his fingers in her mane. She let him move her head where he wanted her, gasping, doing her best to breathe through her nose. At one point she jammed a hoof between her hind legs, not to get herself off but to help control her bladder. Brute saw it, and whether he took pity on her or found it unexpectedly hot, he came with a growl, barely giving the mare time to swallow before pulling her off his cock. Gwen winced in sympathy, but eyed the knot forming at the base of Brute’s cock with interest. She knew from experience he could and would come again if she played with it enough.

The pegasus lay on the floor, legs tucked tightly up under her, unable to move. Gradually, she uncurled, then stood and walked on slow, unsteady legs over to Gwen, who watched the display raptly.

“Please,” the mare begged. “Please, please.”

“Yes, okay-” Gwen said hastily. She wriggled onto her back.

Before the pegasus could move, the unicorn caught her up from behind, standing them both on their hind hooves and forcing her slave to expose her chest and belly. “It’s okay,” she said quietly. “You did perfect, you were so good, my little filly, so good for me....”

She stroked the soft, short fur of her slave’s abdomen with a hoof, and that was it for the pegasus, who gave a choked sob and lost control.

Crystal kept hold of her, steadying them both. “Shh, shh, that’s good, you did so well, I’m so proud of you.” Her hoof dipped down between the mare’s legs. Gwen stared as the mare writhed, the flow of urine still going strong even as she ground against what little pressure her Mistress would give her.

“Can you - on my-?” Gwen said, barely thinking. The unicorn was either a mind reader or an extremely good guesser, though, because she moved her hoof so that her slave’s piss hit Gwen’s clit directly. She felt her hips jerk, and had to brace one of her legs on the pillar as she plunged her talons into her cunt, almost violent with the intensity.

“Yes, fuck, yes, mnh! Ah-!” Vaguely, Gwen could guess that she was the one making those noises, but her awareness had narrowed to the ache in her cunt and her clit and her desperate attempts to fill that need and the piss streaking down her thighs and Brute watching her avidly and, and, and!

She came with a cry and actually pushed herself back several inches with the force of it, which was just as well, because she wasn’t exactly up to any kind of coordinated movement. She rocked her head to the side to watch the mare’s stream finally peter out, and nearly as soon as it had, her Mistress shoved her back to all fours and mounted her, grinding against her until she came as well.

All three of them caught their breath a little. The slave had knelt down and gave Gwen a shy smile. She grinned back, at both ponies, too exhausted to come up with anything more substantial than that.

Crystal Cut got herself and her slave up first, and nodded at Brute and Gwen before retreating to one of the showers some distance away.

Brute approached her, then, and tugged her to her feet. She followed blindly, then realized what was going on when he pulled her over to the nearby showerhead and turned on the water, checking the temperature with his paw. She ducked under the water gratefully, closing her eyes in bliss as he redirected it to sluice away the various fluids she was covered in.

She felt his claws on her back and wings, straightening her feathers where she’d lain on them. Times like this, she was glad she could purr. There wasn’t a more fitting sound for how she felt right now.

“You like that,” Brute said quietly.

It wasn’t a question, but Gwen still sighed in contentment, a little dreamy, a little boneless. “Yeah.”

His paw rubbed against her flank. “Hmm,” was all he said, but Gwen knew what he sounded like when he smiled.


Author's Notes: Bonus points if you caught the “Cherry Soda” pun.

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