Daring Do and the Legend of the Hidden Tribe

by Ink Ribbon - Vraddock

Rating: mature
Tags: Other, Adventure, Sex, Daring Do, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 20808

Daring Do's on the job again, trying to locate her next big archaeological find, but a mishap with her parachute over the deep Zebrican jungle might put her in the grasp of a native tribe instead... (Rape, cooking via boiling/spitting, and vore)

Daring Do's on the job again, trying to locate her next big archaeological find, but a mishap with her parachute over the deep Zebrican jungle might put her in the grasp of a native tribe instead...

(Rape, bondage, rape, cooking via live boiling and live spitting, male and female prey, rape, implied hard vore, decapitation, rape, auto-cannibalism, even more rape, and a ludicrous amount of untranslated Swahili.)

Published 2017-09-17 23:10:07 UTC
Last updated 2018-08-24 16:41:52 UTC

The Pony-Eaters of wild Zebrica take another Adventurer!

Author's Note

(A note: The Zebra language in this story is Swahili, though it is Google Translate Swahili. I apologize to any native speakers. It is completely translatable and I believe it adds to the story, but it is not required to translate, and the story works fine even if you're as in the dark as poor Daring is. If there's enough demand for it, however, I'll post up a second chapter with all the translated dialogue.)

The Pony-Eaters of wild Zebrica take another Adventurer!

Daring Do was pissed. Mostly in general, but she had a few specific targets.

Her pilot, for instance, had missed the drop point. Turbulence be damned, it was a perfectly sunny day, and the ruin was perfectly visible from the air. She’d had to try and drift towards it after leaping out of the plane. Then there was her parachute, and the parachute manufacturer. It was a long way down, and she’d busted her wings so many times during her career they were starting to heal funny. But the parachute had a hole torn in the canopy, and so she fell faster than she was supposed to, and come down much harder. Plus, now she was tangled in the cords and straps in a tree, unable to move, instead of coming down at the nice clear space atop the ruin where she could discard it.

Most of all, though, she was pissed at herself. She’d picked the pilot, she’d picked the date, and she was the one who wanted to try parachuting into a jungle in the first place. So really, this was all pretty easily traced back to her. So it was her fault she was tangled in a tree.

She was pretty definitively stuck, too—she’d managed to free one hoof and a wing, but then managed to tighten the rest of the loops, tangling herself in this nylon gordian knot. She couldn’t even reach her survival knife in her boot, because that was the one she’d freed, and it was hanging limply out of the knot, falling asleep due to the weird positioning.

She could move her head a bit, which at least was nice. And she hadn’t accidentally strangled herself on the nylon straps, so she’d live for now. Until what?

Her bet was on a big, carnivorous bird finding her first. Or a tree-dwelling snake. Of all the places she had to get stuck in, why the jungle? Why did all these ancient pony civilizations feel the need to hide all their massive ruined temples deep in dangerous jungles? Why not hide one, say, in a park in Canterlot? That’d be awful considerate of them, give her a nice break.

"Kuna kitu katika mti."

...Of course, there was one other thing that could find her.

"Inaonekana kama farasi."

Zebras, and they sounded like natives. She’d heard there was a tribe in the area, but nopony had actually managed to make contact with them yet. Or, at least, nopony had made contact and come back.

"Inaonekana kama imekwama ...?"

Daring Do was really regretting not brushing up on her Zebra before coming out here.

"Tendaji. Weka chini, itafanya chakula kizuri, angalau."

Daring craned her head around to try and see, and managed to spot one of them climbing up the tree she was tangled in. “Uh.... Msaada! What, uh… Kabila? Are you from?”

There was a chuckle from below. "Kike, na yeye hajui lugha."

"Oh, oh, imekuwa muda mrefu tangu tulipata farasi wa kike."

"Tunapata ngono ya kwanza, na kisha tutamleta mwanamke huyu kwa kabila." The Zebra crawling along the branch towards her grinned at hearing that. Daring Do gave him a grin too, hopefully that was a good sign. After some nimble navigation of the tree branches, the zebra got close, looking her over. At first Daring thought he was trying to figure out how she got all tangled up and how to get her loose, but after about a minute of him staring awkwardly at her, she wasn’t so sure.

Eventually he turned, looking down at the Zebras out of sight below. "Kuwa makini, mwanamke ana mabawa."

"Miti ni nene sana hapa, hatuhitaji kuwa na wasiwasi."

The Zebra nodded at that, and clambered closer, tugging experimentally at the parachute’s straps. Daring groaned, this was never gonna get anywhere. “Hey! Uh… Ya kabila, in my boot, there’s a… Ugh, I should’ve brought that damn damn translation book… A Kisu? Kisu!” She started grunting, wiggling her booted hoof towards him.

The Zebra looked at her with confusion clearly plastered all over his striped face, before grabbing her hoof and holding it still. Finally, he spotted the handle of the survival knife, and pulled it free, with Daring Do letting out a sigh of relief. The Zebra grinned. "Mwanamke anataka kuwa nyama yetu, au yeye ni bubu sana."

With a knife, the Zebra worked quick, cutting into the thinnest parts of the straps. First Daring’s wing came free, then her head, then two of her hooves, by which point she had enough freedom of movement to look down. After initially reeling at exactly how far up the tree she was, she spotted the other two zebras. One seemed to have a bunch of rocks tied to a crude rope wrapped around his barrel, while the other had a more traditional flint spear. Both were grinning at her.

…And licking their lips. That was a little worrying.

“Uhh… Daring started, looking at the one cutting her free. Her other wing and hoof were really tangled up… ”Thanks for the… hang on... Asante kwa usaidizi? But I really need to go. Nitaondoka sasa?” The Zebra jumped at this, then shook his head.

Now Daring was definitely worried. The moment her wing was free, she yanked her hoof out, startling the Zebra, and decided to jump for it, opening her wings. Unfortunately the canopy was too thick to fly through, and if she kept gliding she was just going to get tangled in more vines. Growling, she dove and hit the ground, breaking into a gallop through the underbrush. She could instantly hear two more pairs of hooves behind her, the Zebras giving chase, which only confirmed her suspicions.

Interestingly, the ground was mostly clear all the way down here, she seemed to be running along a well-trodden path. Leaping over a fallen log with the help of her wings, she thought that would slow them down, but when she turned her head she saw one of the Zebras sliding under it with ease and snapping back up into a gallop. Eyes forward, she didn’t want to bang her head on a branch like an idiot.

As she kept running she weird a “thwap-thwap-thwap” noise, something fast was hitting a bunch of leaves in her wake. And then that something hit her legs, and she lost all semblance of balance as she couldn’t move them anymore, her face and chest slamming into the ground. Letting out a groan, she tried to move, but her legs were tangled up in something, again.

Looking back, saw her flanks held high. Great. And a bunch of rocks and vines… oh, that was that tangle she saw around the Zebra’s barrel… She swore. Shit, that was a bola that had hit her! A clever primitive hunting tool, basically just rocks and vines, but a good hunter could throw these like a deadly frisbee. Either the rocks would hit their prey and knock them out, or the vines would hit them and momentum would wrap the rocks (and the rest of the vines) around the prey’s legs instantly. No wonder she couldn’t move.

Just as she realized this, the Zebras caught up to her, laughing when they saw she’d gotten tangled. The Zebra that was now unarmed, presumably the one that had thrown the Bola, let out a happy whoop. "Nimewachukua mawindo yetu, kwa hiyo nilipata kwanza!" The other two nodded at this, and started circling her, while the bola-thrower walked closer behind her.

“Oh, you’d better not be doing what I think you’re going to- Yeaaagh!” Daring’s growl broke into a screech as a wide tongue suddenly split her pussy lips and delved deep inside her most personal of places. “Wewe mwana wa bitch, nitakuwa huru na kufungua tumbo lako kama samaki!" <"You son of bitch, I'll be free and open your stomach like fish!">

This only made them break out into laughter again. While the one raping her with his tongue was delving deeper and smearing saliva all over her entrance, the other two were wrapping crude ropes around her hooves, binding them tighter than even the parachute straps had bound her, and tying all of her hooves together. After they were satisfied with her new bindings, they sat back and started clopping slowly, and the one trying to lick her Uterus finally pulled out with a slurp, then stood up.

Daring growled again, remembering more Zebrican in the heat of the moment. It was still terrible, she knew, but hopefully they got the idea. "Put jogoo yako katika mimi, na Naapa kwa Celestia Nitakuwa kuondoa hiyo kwa meno yangu." <"Put your cock in me, and I swear by Celestia I'll remove it with my teeth.">

"Sitaki kuzaliana kinywa chako." <"I do not want to breed your mouth."> The Zebra chuckled, before pressing the head of his cock into her. Daring’s legs twitched spasmodically as she squealed again, trying to push this new intrusion back out, but the Zebra had leverage, while Daring could barely do anything to stop him. The other two zebras laughed as she squirmed, still clopping as they watched.

The Zebra started slow, pushing as far in as he could, testing out her depth. He was almost balls-deep when Daring screeched again, a sudden bolt of pain lancing out of her belly. He was big, not quite big enough to thump her womb, but pretty damned close! Satisfied with his depth, he pulled almost all the way out with a slurp, mounted her properly, and started pushing back in, the force shoving her face down against the muddy ground.

Daring Do was pissed. This time, she felt she had a bit more justification, and this time, it was entirely aimed at these tribal fucks.

The Zebra raping her got up to speed quickly, his hefty balls slapping against her thighs. Every time they bounced off, they felt like rocks, they were so full of fluid. Daring could feel her crotch bruising as they thumped against her, as his pitiful lubrication wore off and he started dragging. As a last-ditch measure, Daring let out a grunt and released her bladder, pissing all over the Zebra’s legs to try and gross him out, but it didn’t slow him down in the slightest. In fact, he seemed to think she was doing it so he’d be lubed back up, so it would hurt less.

It did not.

"Aww. Ninapenda zaidi wakati wanajichukiza kwenye mate, huongeza kwa ladha." The Zebra that spoke was one of the two watching, and he seemed... disappointed, almost. Daring growled as another thrust pushed her into the mud. Good. Fucker.

After another minute, the thrusting got deeper, more vigorous. Daring wanted to puke as she realized he was getting close to finishing, finishing inside her. She hoped she was wrong about what she thought he said, hoped he wasn’t actually trying to knock her up, but she wasn’t sure. She was not ready to have a foal, let alone some Zony tribal bastard- Her thoughts were interrupted by lancing pain through her as a particularly deep thrust finally reached her cervix, and she squealed again into the mud.

Her pained twitching seemed to be the final straw for her rapist, and he groaned out happily as he thrusted faster and faster. Hot zebra spunk erupted into her, and Daring let out a groan. Asshole! Then her eyes widened as he kept cumming, filling her, fucking his Zebra spunk as deep as he could into her. She squealed again as she remembered an old rumour about Zebras in general… They came a lot.

Off-white Zebra cum squirted out from around her rapist’s cock, dripping down her belly, her legs, splashing into the mud between his own legs, and brightening the shade of reddish-brown. Turning to the other two while he held his softening cock inside her, keeping it in as long as possible, he asked, "Ni nani anataka kwenda ijayo?"

They both leapt up, but one clearly beat the other to the punch. "Nataka kutomba kitako yake, hivyo yeye ni tayari kwa ajili ya mate."

The Zebra still balls-deep in her frowned. "Unajua siyo kwa ajili ya wewe kuamua, Zuberi anaamua jinsi ya kupika mwanamke."

"Najua, najua, lakini natumaini Zuberi anakubali kupika farasi hii kwa njia hii."

The Zebra let out a chuckle and pulled out of Daring’s pussy with a wet slurp. "Labda Zuberi atafikiri unataka kupika kama hiyo badala yake."

Blushing a bright red behind his stripes, he took the other Zebra’s place. "Kama yeye hufanya uamuzi huo, basi hiyo jinsi itakuwa."

Daring was thoroughly out of her league, language-wise. Were they flirting? All questions about that disappeared, however, when she felt the second zebra cock poking at her asshole instead. “Oh, no. No no no, you better fucking not, you fucking aaaaaAAAA!”

She screamed her shrillest scream yet as the thick Zebra cock pierced her rump, unlubed and unwelcome, forcing it’s way inside. She swore she felt something tear as it was ground into her tight ponut, initially unyielding, but her anus eventually gave way and it slid inside up to the medial ring with a squelch and a whimper from Daring.

“Celestia’s bouncing teats, stop! You fuckers!” The Zebra had to understand, if not the actual words than just the tone of her voice, but he didn’t even slow down. He just kept pushing forward, widening her ass further. Daring’s head slumped back into the mud, glaring at the other zebra, who was still wanking. The other one had disappeared into the underbrush, maybe looking for something? Not that she cared, she was going to bucking kill them if she got out of this.

She made a whining noise as the Zebra thrusted deeper into her ass. When. When she got out of this. Right?

After another minute of of mud, pain, and ass rape later, and the first Zebra came back, holding something. Looked like a leather backpack- Oh, of course. He’d found her saddlebags. Joy. All her clothing, gear, and supplies were in there, so they didn’t get in the way of the parachute, fat load of good that’d done her. The Zebra carrying it sat down and unbuckled it, starting to dig around inside. “Come on, you fuck, I’m right here! That’s my shit-” She was cut off with a grunt as her head was shoved back down into the mud, apparently the Zebra cramming his cock up her ass was done with her shouting at them.

Raising his eyebrows, the Zebra digging through her pack didn’t even slow down, inspecting it all. He pulled a rope and smiled, setting that to the side, then her compass and map. Flicking open the protective lid of the compass, he smiled. ""Hizi ni muhimu, Zuberi atataka hii."

He dropped the map and compass back inside, pulling out her shirt and Pith Helmet. Snickering, he looked at the Zebra still fucking her. "Je! Unafikiri shati hii ni ukubwa wangu, Zuri?" He shrugged when the other zebra was too interested in fucking her ass to respond, inspecting her pith helmet. "Je, hii ni kofia au bakuli?"

Tossing both back inside, he pulled out various bits of food and water, in sealed containers so as not to attract wildlife, then found her wallet and passport. Flicking the passport open, he skimmed the pages. "Na jina lako ... Daring Do? Nimesikia kwamba kabla." He glanced at her, turning his head sideways, then laughed. "Katika vitabu, katika mji! Wewe ni vizuri inayojulikana?" She managed to catch the word “famous,” or “well-known,” somewhere in there, along with her name. Maybe that would be enough to make them bring her back to civilization. Though judging from the fact that the Zebra fucking her was speeding up and panting, this was unlikely.

Smirking at the sight of Daring glaring at him, clearly confused and face splattered with mud, he suddenly spoke in near-perfect Equuish, “Well then, Daring Do, I am sure Chief Zuberi be honoured to have you as guest.”

Fire lit up in Daring’s eyes. “You could speak bucking Equuish this entire motherbucking-” She cut herself off with a pained squeal as the Zebra fucking her hilted himself, then started pumping faster, and hot Zebra jizz filled her ruined asshole. It burned, it was so hot and her poor ass had taken so much abuse... Daring squirmed harder than she ever had in her life to try and escape it, but she couldn’t. She was still tied up, lost in a jungle, being raped by Zebras.

She’d closed her eyes from the pain as the Zebra behind her finished, and the second she opened them she heard grunting and her left eye filled with pain as well. The Zebra jerking off to her rape had also spunked all over her face, and managed to fire a shot right in her eye. Daring screamed, in pain, in frustration, in anger, and eventually it wound down to a sad whine as she kept blinking, trying to blink away the cum coating her eyeball.

"Alikuwa na kamba katika pakiti yake. Tunapaswa kutumia, ni ya kuaminika zaidi." The Zebra spoke, tossing her rope to the Zebra still panting as he pistoned in and out of her raw, bleeding ass. He caught it in his teeth and nodded, before yanking his cock out with a wet slurp, and Daring swore, feeling another tearing sensation. She wobbled unsteadily for a second, still unbalanced on her knees and chin and wobbling from pain, before she tipped over, letting out a gasp. She slapped into the mud, smearing more of it all over herself, splashing it all over her ass, and her crotch burned anew. Her legs twitched spasmodically, like a bug hit by a flyswatter, as the Zebras got close. "Hold miguu yake, yeye ni kwenda kujaribu na kupambana."

The other two Zebras grabbed her legs and held them still as she swore and spat at them, but Daring was quickly losing steam. She was tired, she wanted to puke, and she was in an inequine amount of pain, not to mention whatever else these assholes had in mind for her. Her only hope, as the zebra untangled the bola from around her legs and replaced it with her rope, was that maybe she could talk some sense into this “Chief Zuberi.”

A minute later, the Zebra stepped back, examining his knots. Experimentally, Daring also pulled at them, trying to get loose, but they were absolutely unyielding. Whoever this Zebra was, he was smart, these were professional knots. Maybe he’d had some sailing experience? But she was so far inland, and these Zebras were so isolated, that seemed unlikely…

Satisfied, the Zebra nodded, trotting a few feet away and picking up a long, mostly-straight stick. "Sawa, anaonekana mema, tunapaswa kumrudisha." The other two nodded, and they slid the stick under the knots. Daring yelped as she was pulled upwards and her world spun around, and she was hanging by her tied hooves, looking at upside-down jungle around her. One Zebra was in front of her, one was behind her, both holding one end of the stick. Then the same Zebra who had spoke before held up his hoof. "Shika, tuna kuosha kwamba matope mbali kabla ifike kavu."

The other two chuckled, and Daring Do looked between them. “The fuck are you two chucklefucks snickering-mmmphmh!” Daring was cut off as a spray of salty piss splashed all over her face. The main Zebra was pissing- it was getting everywhere! Piss penetrated every fibre of her being, soaking her, sinking into her fur, splashing down her muzzle, running into her nose, her eyes, her mouth, she hadn’t closed any of them in time! She tried to spit out what had already gotten in; pee and cum mixed with mud, and was “rewarded” with more pure Zebra piss spraying directly into her mouth. Her eyes absolutely burned now, and she clenched them closed as the other two Zebras joined in, absolutely soaking her with their cloudy, musky Zebra piss.

Daring felt like she was drowning in it, too much had gone up her nose and in her mouth and she couldn’t get it out because she was upside down, she was coughing and choking, and all she could taste was musky Zebra piss. It was finally too much, and Daring emptied her stomach all over her chest, only for that to be near-instantly washed away as well. After a minute, the Zebra’s bladders were emptied, and Daring was left coughing and gagging and deaf from piss filling her ears, but the mud had at least been washed off.

Shaking her head to try and clear them, she smacked her lips, trying to spit out the amber liquid that had stained her mouth. She wanted to swear and spit and curse at them, but every time she opened her mouth fresh air rushed in and refreshed the taste, making her gag again. She contented herself with a terse “Motherfuckers,” before letting herself hang limply, defeated for now. The Zebras laughed again, and started trotting, presumably back to their village. Beaten and exhausted, Daring let herself pass out, dreaming of bloody vengeance and Zebra cocks.

* * *

Slowly, the murmur of conversation and the sounds of civilization brought Daring out of unconsciousness. Her eyes cracked open, the dried urine on them trying it’s best to glue them shut, and she looked around.

She was being carried through a village. A small one, couldn’t have been more than twenty or thirty surprisingly-stable looking huts. All around her were Zebras, dozens of them, but less than a hundred. Cleaning, working, building, cooking. All ages, too. Zebra foals chased each other around buildings, teens were screwing around with hunting tools, practicing or maybe just showing off, mares were tanning leather and chopping wood while stallions were gutting fish and delivering supplies. There was even a couple older Zebras puttering around, talking with the the younger Zebras.

A couple of the younger ones took interest in Daring and ran up, chatting with the Zebras carrying her. "Khamisi! Hey kila mtu, Khamisi alipata moja!"

"She inaonekana hasira, na yeye harufu kama mkojo."

"Wewe ni bubu, wao daima huonekana kama hiyo wakati wao sio wa kabila."

Daring Do growled at them, especially when they trotted around her and saw her bruised crotch. Guess they didn’t really have many taboos about that yet.

They followed the Zebras carrying her as they moved to the center of the village, which seemed to be based around a large firepit set deep into the ground. Daring’s anthropological education finally got some use as she identified it as an unusually large firepit, it had to be used for cooking, but even then it was large… They had to be hunter-gatherers, and used the pit to cook huge prey. Glancing around, she spotted an assortment of long, strong sticks sharpened into spits and a large round stewpot made from blackened, crude iron. That made sense.

She also… spotted some skulls. Equine, without a doubt, though she couldn’t tell if they were Pony skulls or Zebra- no, wait, that was a Unicorn. Shit. So, they had to be warlike, since these were displayed too prominently to be random finds, and some were even blackened by heat. They must have been trophies.

On the plus side, there was only a few, and they were all on stakes near what looked to be the Chief’s hut. So maybe he was the only one that did that? That hurt her chances of talking her way out of this, but maybe she could talk some other Zebras into helping her instead?

Speaking of the Chief, as they got close the leather covering the doorway was pulled aside, and a much larger Zebra, wearing multicoloured tribal paint in addition to his stripes, stepped out. He was followed by two Zebra mares, one heavily pregnant, the other wearing a few splatters of cum on her muzzle like a badge of honour, like her own personal tribal paint. As soon as the Chief saw her, he grinned widely and nodded at the Zebras who’d brought her there. “Chama cha uwindaji wetu kinarudi! vizuri sana kufanyika, wewe tatu. Ametoka wapi?”

“Alikuwa tangled katika miti. Inaonekana kama parachute yake got hawakupata katika matawi.”

The Chief nodded. “Yeye ni peke yake, mwema. Je, unajua jina lake?”

The Zebra laughed. “Hutaamini hii. Unakumbuka vitabu Niliona katika mji? Yeye ndiye mwandishi, aliyeitwa Daring Do. Yeye ni Adventurer!”

The Chief chuckled, repeating the Pony word. “Adventurer. Je, anasema lugha ya pony?”

“Ndiyo, lakini yeye mgumu. Sisi kuzaliana yake, na bado yeye anataka kupambana na sisi.”

The Chief laughed again, and trotted over. Daring put on her best ‘I’ve just been mercilessly raped but maybe you’re going to be reasonable’ face. “Hey! Listen, I can work with you. These assholes raped me, but if you can get me back to civilization I won’t report it, I’ll forget this ever happened, alright?”

The Chief chuckled. “Daring Do, yeah? I have heard of you. My hunter, Khamisi, has seen your books in the city. You are a very strong pony, if the stories have truth to them.”

Daring grinned. “Yes, yes they’re all true. You get me to this city and… heck, I’ll give you guys a reward for saving the legendary adventurer Daring-”

“Oh, having you here is reward enough.” The Chief interrupted her. “Don’t worry, we’ll see you’re well taken care of. Sadly, we can’t spare the time to breed you properly, as strong as the foals would be.” His cock gave a twitch under his belly as he looked her over again, and a leftover drop of cum dripped off the end.

He turned back to the lead Zebra while Daring sputtered and swore, paying her absolutely no mind. “Kijiji kinahitaji kulishwa. Anapaswa kuwa amefungwa kwa siku tatu. Yeye ni kunywa cum na maji tu. Kisha tutafanya supu kutoka kwake.”

The lead Zebra nodded eagerly, cock standing back at attention. The other one behind him, the one who had fucked her ass raw, bit his lip. “Zuberi. Ikiwa tuna chakula kidogo sana, basi mimi hujitolea kama chakula, kwa muda mrefu kama mimi ni kupikwa kwenye mate.”

Without missing a beat, the Chief laughed, and trotted around them to slap his ass. The sound of hoof on buttcheek echoed through the village, and the Zebra stallion winced before shivering. “Wewe ni shujaa sana, Zuri. Siku zote nilifurahia mwili wako wa kike, na kabila itakushukuru. Utakuwa kupikwa katika siku tatu pia. Tumia siku tatu kuzaliana kama wanawake wengi iwezekanavyo. roho yako kulisha taifa milele.” As the Chief spoke, the Zebra stallion’s cock flopped free, eager, though Daring didn’t know why. The other Zebra, laughing, walked up and slapped the stallion’s other buttcheek, before taking his end of Daring’s stick from him. Freed of the responsibility, he trailed behind the Chief, who led them all to a stump near the firepit.

The chief took up a crude horn sitting by the stump, and blew it. All the Zebras in the village, those who had not been already attracted by Daring’s arrival or the dual smacks earlier, filtered in, while the Chief made a speech. “Chama cha uwindaji wetu ni nyuma! Wakaleta milo mbili kubwa, moja kwa njia ya kuwinda na moja kwa njia ya sadaka! mipira yake lazima tupu katika muda wa siku tatu, na kila mwanamke lazima mimba katika miezi mitatu. mwanamke alitekwa, Daring Do, itakuwa vizuri fucked na kujazwa na cum wanaume pia!”

Daring caught her name in the speech as she was finally taken off the stick, but her hooves were held tight again as they untied, then re-tied around the stump. She swore as she realized they’d tied her legs so she couldn’t close them, exposing them to the entire tribe, while she lay on her belly. “Fuck you!” She shouted, to the Chief’s laughter. He waved his hoof, and nearly every Zebra stallion in the crowd turned to look at her.

As Daring realized what was going on finally, she froze. If she hadn’t already, she likely would’ve pissed herself again, then and there. Then the Chief trotted over, mounting her and prodding the head of his still cum-dripping cock against Daring’s already well-used cunt. Before he pushed forward any further, however, he leaned down. “Daring Do… I do not know the meaning of your name. But do you know what my name means?”

“No fucking clue,” she growled. “Scumbag?”

“Hah,” chuckled the Chief. “No. My name is Zuberi. In your language, it means ‘Strong.’ And you too, are very strong, Daring Do. Still fighting, even now. I respect that. That is why you will make my people strong, too.”

For the first time all day, despite how much her crotch and legs hurt, Daring laughed. “Oh? How’s that, raping a defenceless mare? Gonna train all your stallions with me?”

Chief Zuberi shrugged. “For a time. But you are destined for the stewpot, ‘adventurer.” Daring’s eyes widened, but Zuberi kept going. “You will be boiled down into your purest form, flesh and spirit, and we will eat of that, grow stronger because of it. You will live on through us, Adventurer, but this is your last adventure. In the cycle, there will be more for you, and perhaps we will meet once again. But for now? You are meat, for our cocks and for our bellies.”

If Daring had been angry before, this time she was furious, and fought her bindings with that fury. “Cannibals! All of you! Rapist bastard cannibals, I’m going to get loose and throw you in your own damn stew! I will-aaaaugh!” She was cut off as Zuberi’s teeth clamped onto her mane, and he yanked her head back as he slammed his hips forward, impaling her bruised and bleeding pony pussy on his huge Zebra cock. She let out a guttural squeal as she felt the Chief’s hot breath down her neck, felt her cunt spread wide, even wider than when Khamisi had raped her, forced to look up at a new Zebra in front of her, jerking off in her face. Then Zuberi pulled her vision to the side, and there was another, and another. All waiting their turn.

Daring Do, the great adventurer, explorer of South Amareica and Zebrica and the Tropics and all the wild places of the world, was nothing but a cocksock to this tribe, a tool, a toy, for them to play with until she broke. And then she was going to be meat. Daring wanted to fight, wanted to scream, but all she could do was whine and wiggle as she was speared on a Zebra’s cock, tied to a stump, forced to watch as dozens of stallions used her as a toy, jerked off on her, raped her, fucked her, rubbed their cocks all over her.

The rest of the first day was a bit of a blur of cocks and cum and struggling, and she may have been partially in shock. The rape didn’t even stop as night fell, though it did slow down, and she was left empty for a bit between as Zebras drained themselves, slept, and came back, taking turns filling her and coating her.

Empty. That was how she started to think of herself when things were different, when there wasn’t a cock thrusting into her cunt or ass, because that quickly became her new normal. They tried their best to alleviate the pain, to their credit, oiling her entrances and painting them with salve, painting her with stripes, to keep the heat of the sun from overwhelming her. The only mercy they refused her was that they kept shaking her awake, wanting her to be conscious to experience every moment, every thrust, every ‘love bite’ they left along her neck and limbs.

They were tasting her, she eventually realized. Tasting their own cum, their own sweat, mixing with her own sweat, learning and teasing themselves as they fucked her, fucked the legendary Daring Do. As an extra bit of humiliation, they brought one of her books they’d gotten from somewhere and one of the more fluent Zebras in the tribe read it aloud, teaching all the foals of the mare whose ass and pussy were being ruined less than twenty feet away from them, who would soon be their meal. Even the Zebra colts that could, came up to her and fucked her, with help from the other Zebras.

As she heard her story being read, she went silent, trying to ignore it all, trying to pretend none of this was happening, retreat inside her mind, but then a Zebra would shake her awake again. She spent the second day like that, non-responsive and in a haze, trying to shut it all out as her legend was read, mockingly, within earshot. The only time she moved was when particularly brave Zebras would try to put their dicks into her mouth, and she’d snap her teeth at them, spit at them and call them names once again.

At the end of the second day, she had her first orgasm.

It snuck up on her, surprising her just as much as the Zebra that had already dumped six loads of hot Zebra cum inside her womb over the past two days. Eventually she’d gotten used to the feeling, opening up and loosening, unable to fight. The oils they used to sooth her wounds helped too, the pain fading, and that was left was the barest pleasure, the part of her brain that didn’t understand consent, simply understood she was being bred, over and over and over.

Daring came with a whimper, unable to hide it, as a fresh spurt of hot cum rolled out from around the Zebra cock buried balls-deep in her. But he hadn’t been the one to cum, and it wasn’t just one of the hundreds of loads that was constantly leaking out of her sticky, sopping wet crotch. This was hers and hers alone, finally taking what pleasure she could from the experience. That was the first moment where Daring Do started to truly break, not physically, not mentally, but emotionally.

From that point forward, she started being more vocal, unable to stop herself, panting as she was fucked, groaning as cocks slid up her ass and filled her cunt. Her mouth opened and a cock poked in, and Daring Do found herself not finding the strength to bite, her jaw simply sitting limply as an excited Zebra fucked her tired face. His cock tasted bitter, oily… He’d been fucking her ass just a few minutes ago, not that Daring Do cared. She’d shit herself midway through the second day, and it was mostly the water they gave her. Now her ass was clean of everything but cum and her own anal juices, the endless anal rape scrubbing away everything else.

When the Zebra pushed himself into her throat, she didn’t stop him, didn’t say a word, only made an aroused grunt, and she felt his cock pulse between her lips, filling her throat with his thick, virile, jets of Zebra cum, shot after shot after shot, until it was pulled free, still spunking lazily down her lips. She moved her tongue, tasting it. She had been here so long, only tasting her own salty sweat and the water they had her drink, that any different flavour was like a gift from Celestia herself. Then another stallion pushed his cock forward, prodding her muzzle, and she eagerly sucked it inside.

With that, the floodgates opened, and the Zebras were excited, gifted with a third hole for them to fuck, and much more compliant Daring Do. She stopped cursing at them, beginning to moan, getting more and more turned on with every new partner, whether they’d fucked her before or not. They started cumming all over her too, painting her bronze fur white with streak after streak, her own Zebra stripes on top of those she’d been painted with. She held her mouth open and closed her eyes, letting them spunk across her face and across her tongue.

When the first Zebra to not cum into her mouth instead took the opportunity to empty his bladder down her throat, she was surprised, but stopped herself from fighting it, thirsty for another new flavour. They stopped giving her water after that, opting simply to relieve themselves all over her, splashing her face, down her throat, up her ass, anywhere they could to fill her up with hot, musky, Zebra piss, marking her. Daring came to enjoy it midway through the third day, trying to taste the differences between stallions, even closing her eyes and trying to guess which Zebra she was sucking or drinking the piss from by flavour alone. Even the Zebra mares, dripping with cum, started coming up and relieving themselves all over her, into her mouth, and she relished in sucking the cum out of their pussies, drinking it down herself.

The third day ended and the fourth day began with the Chief being the last Zebra to fuck her, and to her surprise, he had her untied first. For the first time in nearly four days, she had control over her hooves, shaky and atrophied as it was. Some part of her told her to run, to flee, to fight, even to fly away, but she didn’t. She couldn’t stop herself from dropping to her knees in front of Chief Zuberi, where he sat on the stump, cock held high and pointing skyward for her to service him.

He held her mane with his hoof as he gently guided her down his length, listening to her gag and suckle across his fat Zebra dick. “Ahhhh… Daring Do. The great adventurer. Sasa unajua jinsi nguvu wewe ni, jinsi nguvu sisi, kwa pamoja. Wewe ni sehemu ya kabila katika roho, sasa. Hivi karibuni, mwili wako utakuwa sehemu ya kabila pia.” Daring’s Zebra had come back, partially, simply from hearing so much of it, over and over and over. She couldn’t translate exactly, but it was something about her joining their tribe, about her being powerful.

She pulled off with a wet pop, suckling the big Zebra’s full, heavy nutsack. “Thank you, Chief Zuberi...Have I… Have I earned my way out of the stewpot, by any chance?”

Chief Zuberi chuckled. “No, Daring Do. This is your destiny now, more than being an adventurer ever was. You will become a meal for the tribe. Thank you for your sacrifice.”

The part of her mind that had screamed at her to flee was louder now, but Daring wasn’t listening to it. Three days of rape had broken her, and at some point she had been considering maybe the tribe was right, maybe it was an honour. But she wasn’t sure, yet. And every time she thought about it, her survival instinct told her to get stuffed.

Chief Zuberi groaned, and spunk flooded her mouth. His was the absolute tastiest, musky and thick and creamy. She swore whenever he came on her fur, it stuck tighter than any other Zebra’s. And he always came so much, every time. She swallowed and her mouth was full again, making her cough, making cum dribble out her nose, from around his cock even as much as it filled her lips. Her eyes caught the pregnant Zebra mare, who was watching and clopping. She was so lucky, she got to carry his foal. At least she got her shirt, though she was wearing it unbuttoned so her belly would fit.

Daring Do gulped three more mouthfuls of Zebra spunk, looking back up and into his eyes as she did, before pulling off with a splatter of leftover cum splashing her belly. “Th-thank you, Chief Zuberi.”

Behind her, there was a lot of grunting as the large iron pot was set into the firepit, on top of an ungodly amount of kindling and wood. Zuberi chuckled and rustled her mane with his hoof, catching in the cum-stained hairs that glued it together. “You are welcome, Adventurer. Before you go, I found this in your pack. I have seen the cover of your book, you look good wearing it.” He pulled out her pith helmet from behind him. As she saw it, Daring’s mind lit up with a dozen thoughts, about how she was happy to have it back, how it represented her old life before she became part of the tribe, how she wouldn’t need it in the stewpot, but she took it anyway, seating it on her head. In a way, it was comforting.

Nodding, Chief Zuberi stood, pulling her to her hooves as well, and passing her to the Zebras who were setting up the pot. “They’re going to tie your hooves up again, just in case you have any second thoughts. We will leave you able to touch yourself, however. We find it improves the flavour significantly.”

Daring nodded, and as the Zebras held open loops of rope, she stepped into them, feeling them tighten them around her hooves. They bound her fores and hinds together, and securely, but that was all they did. She noted with a hint of humour, that these were still her own ropes she’d brought with her. They were as cum-stained and piss-soaked as she was, but apparently that wasn’t dirty enough to be inedible to the tribe. Another loop went into her mouth as a gag, and she sucked at it greedily, enjoying the taste.

She wasn’t really able to walk anymore with the her legs tied, so a larger Zebra picked her back up and put her across his back to carry her there. The fire had been started under the pot already, and Zebras were carrying buckets of fresh water over and dumping them in. Daring had been surprised when such an isolated tribe knew to boil their water to clean it, but she supposed if you didn’t in a jungle you were asking for all sorts of nastiness. Various fruits and vegetables and chunks of caught meat went in as well, making stock for the soup that she was going into.

Even mentally saying it still freaked her out, the fact that she was going to be boiled alive, she was going to die to become a giant pot of soup, and only now did it all really hit her. This was it. She started struggling, writhing in her bonds on the back of the Zebra carrying her, but another one grabbed her off his back, and they trotted up to the stewpot. The big one spoke, in broken Equuish. “You do not want no more? Go under, swallow water. You soup now anyway.”

Daring squirmed as she was placed into the pot, expecting it to be scalding, but it was almost pleasantly cool now, like taking a dip in a river. Her hinds hit the bottom first and slid forward, kicking cut carrots and bananas around under the surface, clouding it for a few minutes. She finally came to a stop when her rump hit the bottom of the pot, and it was the perfect height to keep her head above the rim. She understood what the big Zebra had said; if she wanted to, or even if she slipped, she’d slide under the surface, and she wasn’t sure she could get back up with her hooves tied.

Was that really how she wanted to go out, after all this? Drown herself in a stewpot, before it even got boiling? What if rescue came ten minutes after she’d bubbled her last? They’d feel very silly. And it was such a lame death, anyway. No, Daring Do would fight to the end, fight to stay awake for as long as she could, endure her imminent soupification even for the barest hint of survival. Maybe she would survive, maybe they’d decide she was done even though she was still alive, serving as soup stock. If she did that, maybe they’d take her back out, decide she was strong enough to become one of the tribe. Maybe she’d get to keep sucking Chief Zuberi’s cock and drinking his wonderful cum, and she would be safe.

Her eyes wandered, once she realized she’d been staring at her submerged crotch, and clopping slowly under the surface. They’d stopped dumping in the water, but the vegetables were still coming, filling up the water around her. Around her, the tribe was waking up. It was early in the morning, but they were emerging from their huts to watch. To watch her boil and simmer.

She was clopping again. Stop it.

She heard some chatter and moaning, and turned back to the stump where she’d been tied up for the last three days. There, she was surprised—she recognized the first Zebra that had taken her ass, all that time ago. He was bent over the stump, in the same position she had been but without the bindings, willingly taking Zuberi’s thick mare-ruining cock up his ass and moaning like a Las Pegasus prostitute. He wasn’t bad on the eyes, Daring admitted. She’d been kinda distracted before by the whole ass-rape thing, but now that every Zebra in the village had done the same thing, it wasn’t as big of a deal. He even looked kinda feminine, with wide hips and a thin barrel.

Zuberi grunted, slamming himself balls-deep inside the stallion’s plush rump, dumping a load that must have splashed down his legs if it was half the volume of the load Daring had swallowed. Then he pulled out, and Daring’s eyes widened as he was handed one of the spits she’d seen before. The Zebra didn’t seem scared in the slightest, maybe a little apprehensive as he saw it, but he still crawled up on the stump proper and laid sideways. Two other Zebras, who Daring also recognized as Khamisi, and… That must have been Tendaji? She’d heard his name a couple more times while he was fucking her. His hunting partners were holding him steady as Chief Zuberi lathered oil down the wooden shaft of the spit.

Finally, he was satisfied, and Zuberi lined the sharp end up with his gaping asshole, still wide from going balls-deep in the femmy Zebra stallion. The willing Zebra still spread his asscheeks wide with his hooves, and laid down flat on the stump, cock hard as a rock as it bobbed. Chief Zuberi smiled at him, then slid it inside, getting about a foot in before he stopped. With a free hoof, Tendaji jerked the Zebra off, wanting to ease the process. After they both took deep breaths, Zuberi pushed it forward and the femmy Zebra cried out, in pain, in pleasure, maybe both? But after a few seconds of pushing, that was cut off as he coughed blood, then pulled his head back. The sharpened, bloodstained edge of the spit slid up his throat and out from between his lips, and she could see his tongue running across it, tasting it.

They gave him a couple seconds to adapt as well as he could before lifting the spit off the stump, forcing gravity to shove him further down it’s length. When he reached the middle, they stopped it, tying his hooves to the spit and holding him horizontally again, this time on his back, head hanging off the edge of the stump. Daring couldn’t see his expression, but his cock was still hard, twitching with arousal, and it took a few more strokes from Khamisi for his whole body to twitch and his cock to start spraying white-hot Zebra cum all over himself. He was basting himself for the tribe, Daring realized.

She was clopping again. Why couldn’t she stop herself?

She was really warm, she realized, watching them rub the spitted Zebra’s spunk into his belly fur. She looked down and saw bubbles rising from the bottom of the pot. Not a lot, not quickly, but enough to make her realize the water’s temperature was rising. She hadn’t even noticed until now. She looked back up to see they’d picked up the ends of the spit, and were walking him over to stakes set in the edge of the firepit, right next to her. Placing him down, Tendaji started to spin the spit with a crude wooden handle at the end. The Zebra was just meat now, just meat, roasting on a fire, waiting to be cooked.

Just like her. Daring moaned, in fear, in arousal, even she wasn’t sure. Three days of rape and four without sleep were taking their toll on her mind. She watched him rotate, watching his face. The Zebra was smiling as best he could with a wooden shaft impaling him from anus to lips, and even then, he was slowly using the leverage of his tied hooves to drag himself back and forth along the spit about an inch in either direction. His cock was hard again from the sensation of the full-body fuck, and flopped down every rotation, smacking against his meaty hips every time.

Daring Do yanked her eyes away, but it took so much effort, an ungodly amount of effort. She couldn’t really blame the tribe. She was hungry too. All she’d eaten and drank for the last three days was water, cum, Zebra piss, and some trail mix in the plane before.

Things went hazy for Daring for a little while, spacing out in the slowly-heating pot. The sun rose and the lighting around her changed, but for her it felt like it was taking an eternity, yet happening in the blink of an eye. She was almost bored, now that she didn’t have a dozen stallions every hour fucking her senseless. Her hoof felt nice, really nice, and she definitely clouded the broth up a bit with her marecum a few times. For the most part, there was simply nothing happening except the carrots drifting around.

A squirt of cum suddenly splashed on her and into the water around her, and she looked over with confusion, realizing the spitted Zebra had gone still beside her with a look of bliss in his bloodshot, darkening eyes. In the time since she looked at him last, his fur had started to singe off, leaving the faint impressions of stripes on his bare flesh, which was turning a tasty golden-brown. His cock was hanging limply now, having shot it’s last load, and lacking even the strength to go flaccid properly. Daring couldn’t stop herself from licking her lips as she saw his balls dripping with juices from the marbling meat, imagining their flavour, chewing one of them in her mouth… Soon, her flesh was gonna look like that too…

That thought shocked her out of her hungry daydream, and she looked down to see just how much she actually had cooked in that time. The water wasn’t quite boiling, but it was close, and getting really uncomfortable, like a scalding bath, but like one she’d already been sitting in for an hour. She could feel the heat, feel it brush across her hooves, but it didn’t hurt any more. Maybe that was just her nerves starting to burn and go dead.

The cum and piss she’d been coated in had all but washed off now, clouding up the water. They really must not have had many taboos about that, heck, maybe they thought since it came from the tribe, it only added to the flavour. For the first time since she got in, Daring took a sniff at how the soup smelled, how she smelled. It was pleasant, like a home-cooked meal. She could taste the roasted vegetables, smell the musk from her spices, smell slow-boiled meat… she was smelling herself, she realized lethargically, and she was starting to smell delicious.

At some point the ropes had come free, not meant to be boiled. Daring’s hooves had been free for what must have been at least an hour or two, and she was so spaced out she hadn’t realized until now. She tried to hold up her hoof, and it wouldn’t come, like she couldn’t feel it, like it had fallen asleep. After about a minute of effort, she managed to wake it up enough to pull it up and out of the water.

For a moment, she thought she’d accidentally pulled a root vegetable out with her hoof. But as she gently shook it, trying to drop it back into the stew, she slowly came to realize, no, that was her hoof. She barely recognized it. All the fur had fallen off and either dissolved or been stirred into the broth. Guess they didn’t mind that either, but Daring vastly preferred that to having been skinned. Not that it made much difference now. Daring’s flesh had been slow boiled until she practically was skinned, slowly burning and coming apart. Out curiosity, she brought her foreleg to her mouth and seized it with her teeth, then pulled it it away.

A tasty-looking strip of Daring Do meat, unrecognizable from any other animal, peeled off, leaving a bloodless gash down her foreleg. She was shocked she let the strip drop into the broth, then brought her hoof back, shaking. This was it. This was her last chance. She was untied, she could still move, but if she stayed any longer she wasn’t sure if she could trust her limbs to respond. The muscles would be too stiff, too cooked, and yet too tender to move. She had to go, now, or she would never get the chance again. She could recover from this, pony medical magic had treated much worse than this.

Slowly, she brought her foreleg back to her lips, and took a smaller, more delicate bite, tearing a short ribbon of flesh from alongside the first furrow. Chewing it between her teeth slowly, she felt the juices squirt out across her tongue. Her juices.

Daring Do was delicious. She never thought she’d be able to say those words about herself, never thought anypony else ever would. She let her meat sit on her tongue, dripping cooked, tasty juices, let them fill her mouth. If she ran, she thought while chewing, she was never going to make it. Her responses were too sluggish, her reactions too slow, her limbs too responsive. Thinking she could escape before was a pipe dream, the last gasp of a pony who didn’t want to die, didn’t want to become food, didn’t want to feed this tribe of beautiful, carnivorous tribe of Zebras.

She swallowed the strip of meat. Her meat. Daring Do realized what she had already known, ever since she was brought to this village, since Khalisi had fucked her for the first time. She was meat. Daring Do was Daring Done. This was her final adventure. And maybe it was all the rape, all the mental trauma, maybe it was lack of sleep or the starvation… But she wouldn’t have it any other way. Maybe what Chief Zuberi had said was true, her strength would go to feed the Tribe. Her spirit would live on. This was a million times better, for everypony involved, than if she’d died in a hospital bed, or worse, been killed by a trap, in some crumbling ruin where nopony would ever find her corpse. These ponies knew who she was, where her remains went. They went to feed them. And their remains would feed the tribe as well, when they were cooked and eaten.

Daring felt the weight of a lifetime of stolen artifacts, of danger, of adventure, lift off her back in an instant. Or maybe it was just heat stroke, since the water had started to boil properly a few minutes ago. Daring Do was satisfied, at least in this moment, and she laid back against the hot edge of the pot to simmer. She didn’t even feel the heat of the metal as it seared her back, though she was confused where the steam came from. Lolling her head to the side lazily, she watched a Zebra mare tanning a hide on a rack. Huh. The hide had a cutie mark, though it was faded from heat. She wondered for a moment who that pony had been, before shrugging. Whoever they were, they had fed the tribe.

Time seemed to skew again. The mare moved like a tape in fast-forward, in fact the whole village moved like that around her, but she focused only on the tanning Zebra and the ponies who stood by her pot, stirring the broth around her. At some point, she came one last time, and then she couldn’t feel anything below her chest anymore, and when she moaned from pleasure, from her final orgasm, a cloud of hot steam puffed out of her mouth. Her insides were cooking, too.

Night was falling when Chief Zuberi suddenly appeared in front of her. Her eyes were getting cloudy, and Daring Do could barely breathe. Her heart was barely beating, just enough to keep her alive, and that wasn’t going to last much longer. She opened her mouth to thank Chief Zuberi, or was it Chef Zuberi? But her lips cracked when she did, and she found herself unable to speak, only letting out another puff of steam.

Still, he saw her moving, and pointed it out to the Zebras nearby, still cooking her. “Kuona? Nilikuambia kuwa alikuwa mwenye nguvu. Hata baada ya yeye amekuwa kupikwa, yeye kupigana.” The Zebras cheered, and for a moment, Daring thought she could hear her heart. But her heart wasn’t beating fast enough, that had to be the Zebras celebrating. Good. She was glad she could give them such happiness.

Zuberi took her pith helmet off her head, and motioned for something. She tried to turn her head to see what, but it was like her veins were filled with solid lead. She just couldn’t move. Thankfully, Zuberi held it in front of her. Her knife, the old survival knife she’d had in her boot at the start of this happy event. Grabbing her mane, Zuberi plunged the knife into the side of her neck. For a moment, Daring felt betrayed, betrayed that he would kill her now, instead of letting her become food so fully, betrayed that in her final moments he would cause her pain. But she didn’t feel anything. She didn’t feel the blade, the heat of the stew, nothing. She didn’t even feel herself bleed, though she knew she was, it dyed the soup a faint pink.

Zuberi sawed for a few seconds, before air rushed into place Daring could barely feel and yet knew air should never touch. Then her world shifted as he pulled her out, away from the stewpot. Daring felt cold, now that she was away from the heat, held by her mane above the Chief. She rotated around slowly, unable to control it, and had a few moment of confusion as she saw herself, still somehow in the stewpot, but minus her head. Where did it go? She wondered to herself, as steam hissed upwards and out of her neck like a chimney.

“Mwanamke huyu alikuwa adventurer kubwa, Daring Do!” The Chief shouted to the whole village. But to Daring herself, it sounded like it was underwater. Maybe because her body was slipping into the stew? “Yeye alitoa mwili wake kwetu ili tuweze kukua na nguvu, yeye alitoa Roho wake ili tuweze inaweza kuwa bora. Kula usiku wa leo, na kusikie ndani yako!”

Daring’s vision rotated again, and her half-cooked eyes turned lethargically to see the whole tribe, cheering, though she could barely hear them. Then she was moving again, the world was a blur. When it settled the edges were getting dark, but she could make out enough to see that she was somewhere at head height. She tried to move, tried to walk, but she couldn’t feel anything. Weird. Then Chief Zuberi was suddenly there, placing her pith helmet back on her head. That was nice of him. He was such a handsome Zebra.

Then Daring’s vision was fading, the darkness at the edges reaching the center as colours changed and fell away, new ones replacing them. The last thing she saw was the crowd of Zebras, all different colours, sparkling, crowding around the stewpot…

* * *

A few hours later, Zuberi was stuffed. Between Daring soup and roast Zuri alongside it, the Tribe would be fed for a good while. Still, he would need a new hunter with Khalisi’s pack, and a dozen other jobs. He looked down over his new potbelly, between his hinds at Mchumba, whose potbelly was with foal and with soup, and smiled at her as she sucked his cock greedily, looking for dessert. As she did, he looked again to Daring’s head, only lightly singed from the heat and wearing a relaxed, if slightly confused expression, as well as her strange hat. He’d keep her head on that stake for a day or two, maybe fuck it a few times when Mchumba was busy, then hand it over to Sefu to strip it down to a skull and preserve it. She would be a grand trophy.

His eyes drifted to the book poking out of her discarded bag. He couldn’t read the pony language, but reading her legends would certainly be good incentive. He’d have Sanaa teach him. He smiled. He was eager to learn more of the legend that had given herself to the tribe, after all.

(Translated Version)

Author's Note

Well, this took entirely too long to do. A lot of readers requested translations, and I can't blame them, especially being they were terrible to begin with. I've gone through and translated every bit of swahili could find. The dialogue is still in the same places and has more-or-less the same meaning. A few didn't translate back nicely, and I've tweaked the dialogue to fix it. I also considered updating the chapter instead of uploading again, but I do feel like genuinely not knowing what the Zebras are saying, like Daring herself, does add a bit to it. Enjoy! (Again)

Names:
Tendaji: “Makes Things Happen"
Zuberi: “Strong”
Zuri: “Beautiful”
Khamisi: “Born on Thursday”
Mchumba: “Sweetheart”
Sefu: “Sword”

(Translated Version)

Daring Do was pissed. Mostly in general, but she had a few specific targets.

Her pilot, for instance, had missed the drop point. Turbulence be damned, it was a perfectly sunny day, and the ruin was perfectly visible from the air. She’d had to try and drift towards it after leaping out of the plane. Then there was her parachute, and the parachute manufacturer. It was a long way down, and she’d busted her wings so many times during her career they were starting to heal funny. But the parachute had a hole torn in the canopy, and so she fell faster than she was supposed to, and come down much harder. Plus, now she was tangled in the cords and straps in a tree, unable to move, instead of coming down at the nice clear space atop the ruin where she could discard it.

Most of all, though, she was pissed at herself. She’d picked the pilot, she’d picked the date, and she was the one who wanted to try parachuting into a jungle in the first place. So really, this was all pretty easily traced back to her. So it was her fault she was tangled in a tree.

She was pretty definitively stuck, too—she’d managed to free one hoof and a wing, but then managed to tighten the rest of the loops, tangling herself in this nylon gordian knot. She couldn’t even reach her survival knife in her boot, because that was the one she’d freed, and it was hanging limply out of the knot, falling asleep due to the weird positioning.

She could move her head a bit, which at least was nice. And she hadn’t accidentally strangled herself on the nylon straps, so she’d live for now. Until what?

Her bet was on a big, carnivorous bird finding her first. Or a tree-dwelling snake. Of all the places she had to get stuck in, why the jungle? Why did all these ancient pony civilizations feel the need to hide all their massive ruined temples deep in dangerous jungles? Why not hide one, say, in a park in Canterlot? That’d be awful considerate of them, give her a nice break.

<”There is something in the tree.”>

...Of course, there was one other thing that could find her.

<"It looks like a horse.">

Zebras, and they sounded like natives. She’d heard there was a tribe in the area, but nopony had actually managed to make contact with them yet. Or, at least, nopony had made contact and come back.

<"Looks like it's stuck ...?">

Daring Do was really regretting not brushing up on her Zebra before coming out here.

<"Tendaji. Bring it down, it will make good food, at least.">

Daring craned her head around to try and see, and managed to spot one of them climbing up the tree she was tangled in. “Uh.... What, uh… Are you from?”

There was a chuckle from below. <"Female, and she does not know the language.">

<"Oh, oh, it's been a long time since we got a female horse.">

<"We get the first sex, and then we will bring this woman to the tribe.”> The Zebra crawling along the branch towards her grinned at hearing that. Daring Do gave him a grin too, hopefully that was a good sign. After some nimble navigation of the tree branches, the zebra got close, looking her over. At first Daring thought he was trying to figure out how she got all tangled up and how to get her loose, but after about a minute of him staring awkwardly at her, she wasn’t so sure.

Eventually he turned, looking down at the Zebras out of sight below. <”Be careful, the woman has wings.">

<"The trees are very thick here, we do not have to worry.">

The Zebra nodded at that, and clambered closer, tugging experimentally at the parachute’s straps. Daring groaned, this was never gonna get anywhere. “Hey! Uh… in my boot, there’s a… Ugh, I should’ve brought that damn damn translation book… A She started grunting, wiggling her booted hoof towards him.

The Zebra looked at her with confusion clearly plastered all over his striped face, before grabbing her hoof and holding it still. Finally, he spotted the handle of the survival knife, and pulled it free, with Daring Do letting out a sigh of relief. The Zebra grinned. <"The woman wants to be our meat, or she is very dumb.”>

With a knife, the Zebra worked quick, cutting into the thinnest parts of the straps. First Daring’s wing came free, then her head, then two of her hooves, by which point she had enough freedom of movement to look down. After initially reeling at exactly how far up the tree she was, she spotted the other two zebras. One seemed to have a bunch of rocks tied to a crude rope wrapped around his barrel, while the other had a more traditional flint spear. Both were grinning at her.

…And licking their lips. That was a little worrying.

“Uhh… Daring started, looking at the one cutting her free. Her other wing and hoof were really tangled up… ”Thanks for the… hang on... But I really need to go. The Zebra jumped at this, then shook his head.

Now Daring was definitely worried. The moment her wing was free, she yanked her hoof out, startling the Zebra, and decided to jump for it, opening her wings. Unfortunately the canopy was too thick to fly through, and if she kept gliding she was just going to get tangled in more vines. Growling, she dove and hit the ground, breaking into a gallop through the underbrush. She could instantly hear two more pairs of hooves behind her, the Zebras giving chase, which only confirmed her suspicions.

Interestingly, the ground was mostly clear all the way down here, she seemed to be running along a well-trodden path. Leaping over a fallen log with the help of her wings, she thought that would slow them down, but when she turned her head she saw one of the Zebras sliding under it with ease and snapping back up into a gallop. Eyes forward, she didn’t want to bang her head on a branch like an idiot.

As she kept running she weird a “thwap-thwap-thwap” noise, something fast was hitting a bunch of leaves in her wake. And then that something hit her legs, and she lost all semblance of balance as she couldn’t move them anymore, her face and chest slamming into the ground. Letting out a groan, she tried to move, but her legs were tangled up in something, again.

Looking back, saw her flanks held high. Great. And a bunch of rocks and vines… oh, that was that tangle she saw around the Zebra’s barrel… She swore. Shit, that was a bola that had hit her! A clever primitive hunting tool, basically just rocks and vines, but a good hunter could throw these like a deadly frisbee. Either the rocks would hit their prey and knock them out, or the vines would hit them and momentum would wrap the rocks (and the rest of the vines) around the prey’s legs instantly. No wonder she couldn’t move.

Just as she realized this, the Zebras caught up to her, laughing when they saw she’d gotten tangled. The Zebra that was now unarmed, presumably the one that had thrown the Bola, let out a happy whoop. <"I took our prey, so I got it first!”> The other two nodded at this, and started circling her, while the bola-thrower walked closer behind her.

“Oh, you’d better not be doing what I think you’re going to- Yeaaagh!” Daring’s growl broke into a screech as a wide tongue suddenly split her pussy lips and delved deep inside her most personal of places. <"You son of bitch, I'll be free and open your stomach like fish!">

This only made them break out into laughter again. While the one raping her with his tongue was delving deeper and smearing saliva all over her entrance, the other two were wrapping crude ropes around her hooves, binding them tighter than even the parachute straps had bound her, and tying all of her hooves together. After they were satisfied with her new bindings, they sat back and started clopping slowly, and the one trying to lick her Uterus finally pulled out with a slurp, then stood up.

Daring growled again, remembering more Zebrican in the heat of the moment. It was still terrible, she knew, but hopefully they got the idea. <"Put your cock in me, and I swear by Celestia I'll remove it with my teeth.">

<"I do not want to breed your mouth."> The Zebra chuckled, before pressing the head of his cock into her. Daring’s legs twitched spasmodically as she squealed again, trying to push this new intrusion back out, but the Zebra had leverage, while Daring could barely do anything to stop him. The other two zebras laughed as she squirmed, still clopping as they watched.

The Zebra started slow, pushing as far in as he could, testing out her depth. He was almost balls-deep when Daring screeched again, a sudden bolt of pain lancing out of her belly. He was big, not quite big enough to thump her womb, but pretty damned close! Satisfied with his depth, he pulled almost all the way out with a slurp, mounted her properly, and started pushing back in, the force shoving her face down against the muddy ground.

Daring Do was pissed. This time, she felt she had a bit more justification, and this time, it was entirely aimed at these tribal fucks.

The Zebra raping her got up to speed quickly, his hefty balls slapping against her thighs. Every time they bounced off, they felt like rocks, they were so full of fluid. Daring could feel her crotch bruising as they thumped against her, as his pitiful lubrication wore off and he started dragging. As a last-ditch measure, Daring let out a grunt and released her bladder, pissing all over the Zebra’s legs to try and gross him out, but it didn’t slow him down in the slightest. In fact, he seemed to think she was doing it so he’d be lubed back up, so it would hurt less.

It did not.

<"I like it more when they wet themselves on the spit, it adds to the taste."> The Zebra that spoke was one of the two watching, and he seemed... disappointed, almost. Daring growled as another thrust pushed her into the mud. Good. Fucker.

After another minute, the thrusting got deeper, more vigorous. Daring wanted to puke as she realized he was getting close to finishing, finishing inside her. She hoped she was wrong about what she thought he said, hoped he wasn’t actually trying to knock her up, but she wasn’t sure. She was not ready to have a foal, let alone some Zony tribal bastard- Her thoughts were interrupted by lancing pain through her as a particularly deep thrust finally reached her cervix, and she squealed again into the mud.

Her pained twitching seemed to be the final straw for her rapist, and he groaned out happily as he thrusted faster and faster. Hot zebra spunk erupted into her, and Daring let out a groan. Asshole! Then her eyes widened as he kept cumming, filling her, fucking his Zebra spunk as deep as he could into her. She squealed again as she remembered an old rumour about Zebras in general… They came a lot.

Off-white Zebra cum squirted out from around her rapist’s cock, dripping down her belly, her legs, splashing into the mud between his own legs, and brightening the shade of reddish-brown. Turning to the other two while he held his softening cock inside her, keeping it in as long as possible, he asked, <"Who wants to go next?">

They both leapt up, but one clearly beat the other to the punch. <"I want to fuck her butt, so she is ready for the spit.”>

The Zebra still balls-deep in her frowned. <"You know it's not for you to decide, Zuberi decides how to cook a woman.”>

<"I know, I know, but I hope Zuberi agrees to cook this horse in this way.”>

The Zebra let out a chuckle and pulled out of Daring’s pussy with a wet slurp. <"Perhaps Zuberi will think you want to cook like that instead.”>

Blushing a bright red behind his stripes, he took the other Zebra’s place. <"If he makes that decision, then that's how it will be.">

Daring was thoroughly out of her league, language-wise. Were they flirting? All questions about that disappeared, however, when she felt the second zebra cock poking at her asshole instead. “Oh, no. No no no, you better fucking not, you fucking aaaaaAAAA!”

She screamed her shrillest scream yet as the thick Zebra cock pierced her rump, unlubed and unwelcome, forcing it’s way inside. She swore she felt something tear as it was ground into her tight ponut, initially unyielding, but her anus eventually gave way and it slid inside up to the medial ring with a squelch and a whimper from Daring.

“Celestia’s bouncing teats, stop! You fuckers!” The Zebra had to understand, if not the actual words than just the tone of her voice, but he didn’t even slow down. He just kept pushing forward, widening her ass further. Daring’s head slumped back into the mud, glaring at the other zebra, who was still wanking. The other one had disappeared into the underbrush, maybe looking for something? Not that she cared, she was going to bucking kill them if she got out of this.

She made a whining noise as the Zebra thrusted deeper into her ass. When. When she got out of this. Right?

After another minute of of mud, pain, and ass rape later, and the first Zebra came back, holding something. Looked like a leather backpack- Oh, of course. He’d found her saddlebags. Joy. All her clothing, gear, and supplies were in there, so they didn’t get in the way of the parachute, fat load of good that’d done her. The Zebra carrying it sat down and unbuckled it, starting to dig around inside. “Come on, you fuck, I’m right here! That’s my shit-” She was cut off with a grunt as her head was shoved back down into the mud, apparently the Zebra cramming his cock up her ass was done with her shouting at them.

Raising his eyebrows, the Zebra digging through her pack didn’t even slow down, inspecting it all. He pulled a rope and smiled, setting that to the side, then her compass and map. Flicking open the protective lid of the compass, he smiled. <"These are important, Zuberi will want this.”>

He dropped the map and compass back inside, pulling out her shirt and Pith Helmet. Snickering, he looked at the Zebra still fucking her. <“Do you think this shirt is my size, Zuri?"> He shrugged when the other zebra was too interested in fucking her ass to respond, inspecting her pith helmet. <"Is this a hat or a bowl?”>

Tossing both back inside, he pulled out various bits of food and water, in sealed containers so as not to attract wildlife, then found her wallet and passport. Flicking the passport open, he skimmed the pages. <”And your name ... Daring Do? I've heard that before.”> He glanced at her, turning his head sideways, then laughed. <"In the books, in the city! You are well-known?”> She managed to catch the word “famous,” or “well-known,” somewhere in there, along with her name. Maybe that would be enough to make them bring her back to civilization. Though judging from the fact that the Zebra fucking her was speeding up and panting, this was unlikely.

Smirking at the sight of Daring glaring at him, clearly confused and face splattered with mud, he suddenly spoke in near-perfect Equuish, “Well then, Daring Do, I am sure Chief Zuberi be honoured to have you as guest.”

Fire lit up in Daring’s eyes. “You could speak bucking Equuish this entire motherbucking-” She cut herself off with a pained squeal as the Zebra fucking her hilted himself, then started pumping faster, and hot Zebra jizz filled her ruined asshole. It burned, it was so hot and her poor ass had taken so much abuse... Daring squirmed harder than she ever had in her life to try and escape it, but she couldn’t. She was still tied up, lost in a jungle, being raped by Zebras.

She’d closed her eyes from the pain as the Zebra behind her finished, and the second she opened them she heard grunting and her left eye filled with pain as well. The Zebra jerking off to her rape had also spunked all over her face, and managed to fire a shot right in her eye. Daring screamed, in pain, in frustration, in anger, and eventually it wound down to a sad whine as she kept blinking, trying to blink away the cum coating her eyeball.

<"She had a rope in her pack. We should use it, it's more reliable.”> The Zebra spoke, tossing her rope to the Zebra still panting as he pistoned in and out of her raw, bleeding ass. He caught it in his teeth and nodded, before yanking his cock out with a wet slurp, and Daring swore, feeling another tearing sensation. She wobbled unsteadily for a second, still unbalanced on her knees and chin and wobbling from pain, before she tipped over, letting out a gasp. She slapped into the mud, smearing more of it all over herself, splashing it all over her ass, and her crotch burned anew. Her legs twitched spasmodically, like a bug hit by a flyswatter, as the Zebras got close. <"Hold her hooves, she's going to try and fight.”>

The other two Zebras grabbed her legs and held them still as she swore and spat at them, but Daring was quickly losing steam. She was tired, she wanted to puke, and she was in an inequine amount of pain, not to mention whatever else these assholes had in mind for her. Her only hope, as the zebra untangled the bola from around her legs and replaced it with her rope, was that maybe she could talk some sense into this “Chief Zuberi.”

A minute later, the Zebra stepped back, examining his knots. Experimentally, Daring also pulled at them, trying to get loose, but they were absolutely unyielding. Whoever this Zebra was, he was smart, these were professional knots. Maybe he’d had some sailing experience? But she was so far inland, and these Zebras were so isolated, that seemed unlikely…

Satisfied, the Zebra nodded, trotting a few feet away and picking up a long, mostly-straight stick. <"Well, she looks good, we should bring her back.”> The other two nodded, and they slid the stick under the knots. Daring yelped as she was pulled upwards and her world spun around, and she was hanging by her tied hooves, looking at upside-down jungle around her. One Zebra was in front of her, one was behind her, both holding one end of the stick. Then the same Zebra who had spoke before held up his hoof. "Hold, we have to wash that mud away before it gets dry.”

The other two chuckled, and Daring Do looked between them. “The fuck are you two chucklefucks snickering-mmmphmh!” Daring was cut off as a spray of salty piss splashed all over her face. The main Zebra was pissing- it was getting everywhere! Piss penetrated every fibre of her being, soaking her, sinking into her fur, splashing down her muzzle, running into her nose, her eyes, her mouth, she hadn’t closed any of them in time! She tried to spit out what had already gotten in; pee and cum mixed with mud, and was “rewarded” with more pure Zebra piss spraying directly into her mouth. Her eyes absolutely burned now, and she clenched them closed as the other two Zebras joined in, absolutely soaking her with their cloudy, musky Zebra piss.

Daring felt like she was drowning in it, too much had gone up her nose and in her mouth and she couldn’t get it out because she was upside down, she was coughing and choking, and all she could taste was musky Zebra piss. It was finally too much, and Daring emptied her stomach all over her chest, only for that to be near-instantly washed away as well. After a minute, the Zebra’s bladders were emptied, and Daring was left coughing and gagging and deaf from piss filling her ears, but the mud had at least been washed off.

Shaking her head to try and clear them, she smacked her lips, trying to spit out the amber liquid that had stained her mouth. She wanted to swear and spit and curse at them, but every time she opened her mouth fresh air rushed in and refreshed the taste, making her gag again. She contented herself with a terse “Motherfuckers,” before letting herself hang limply, defeated for now. The Zebras laughed again, and started trotting, presumably back to their village. Beaten and exhausted, Daring let herself pass out, dreaming of bloody vengeance and Zebra cocks.

* * *

Slowly, the murmur of conversation and the sounds of civilization brought Daring out of unconsciousness. Her eyes cracked open, the dried urine on them trying it’s best to glue them shut, and she looked around.

She was being carried through a village. A small one, couldn’t have been more than twenty or thirty surprisingly-stable looking huts. All around her were Zebras, dozens of them, but less than a hundred. Cleaning, working, building, cooking. All ages, too. Zebra foals chased each other around buildings, teens were screwing around with hunting tools, practicing or maybe just showing off, mares were tanning leather and chopping wood while stallions were gutting fish and delivering supplies. There was even a couple older Zebras puttering around, talking with the the younger Zebras.

A couple of the younger ones took interest in Daring and ran up, chatting with the Zebras carrying her. <"Khamisi! Hey everyone, Khamisi got one!”>

<"She looks angry, and she smells like urine.">

<"You're dumb, they always look like that when they're not of the tribe.">

Daring Do growled at them, especially when they trotted around her and saw her bruised crotch. Guess they didn’t really have many taboos about that yet.

They followed the Zebras carrying her as they moved to the center of the village, which seemed to be based around a large firepit set deep into the ground. Daring’s anthropological education finally got some use as she identified it as an unusually large firepit, it had to be used for cooking, but even then it was large… They had to be hunter-gatherers, and used the pit to cook huge prey. Glancing around, she spotted an assortment of long, strong sticks sharpened into spits and a large round stewpot made from blackened, crude iron. That made sense.

She also… spotted some skulls. Equine, without a doubt, though she couldn’t tell if they were Pony skulls or Zebra- no, wait, that was a Unicorn. Shit. So, they had to be warlike, since these were displayed too prominently to be random finds, and some were even blackened by heat. They must have been trophies.

On the plus side, there was only a few, and they were all on stakes near what looked to be the Chief’s hut. So maybe he was the only one that did that? That hurt her chances of talking her way out of this, but maybe she could talk some other Zebras into helping her instead?

Speaking of the Chief, as they got close the leather covering the doorway was pulled aside, and a much larger Zebra, wearing multi colored tribal paint in addition to his stripes, stepped out. He was followed by two Zebra mares, one heavily pregnant, the other wearing a few splatters of cum on her muzzle like a badge of honour, like her own personal tribal paint. As soon as the Chief saw her, he grinned widely and nodded at the Zebras who’d brought her there. <“Our hunting party is back! Very well done, you three. Where did she come from?”>

<“She was tangled in trees. It looks like her parachute got caught in the branches.”>

The Chief nodded. <“She is alone, good. Do you know her name?”>

The Zebra laughed. <"You will not believe this. Do you remember the books I saw in the city? She is the author, called Daring Do. She is an Adventurer!”>

The Chief chuckled, repeating the Pony word. <“Adventurer. Does she speak pony language?”>

<“Yes, but she's tough. We breed her, and still she wants to fight us.”>

The Chief laughed again, and trotted over. Daring put on her best ‘I’ve just been mercilessly raped but maybe you’re going to be reasonable’ face. “Hey! Listen, I can work with you. These assholes raped me, but if you can get me back to civilization I won’t report it, I’ll forget this ever happened, alright?”

The Chief chuckled. “Daring Do, yeah? I have heard of you. My hunter, Khamisi, has seen your books in the city. You are a very strong pony, if the stories have truth to them.”

Daring grinned. “Yes, yes they’re all true. You get me to this city and… heck, I’ll give you guys a reward for saving the legendary adventurer Daring-”

“Oh, having you here is reward enough.” The Chief interrupted her. “Don’t worry, we’ll see you’re well taken care of. Sadly, we can’t spare the time to breed you properly, as strong as the foals would be.” His cock gave a twitch under his belly as he looked her over again, and a leftover drop of cum dripped off the end.

He turned back to the lead Zebra while Daring sputtered and swore, paying her absolutely no mind. <“The village needs to be fed. She will be bound for three days. She will only drink cum and water. Then we will make a soup from her.”>

The lead Zebra nodded eagerly, cock standing back at attention. The other one behind him, the one who had fucked her ass raw, bit his lip. <“Zuberi. If we have very little food, then I give myself as food, as long as I am cooked on a spit.”>

Without missing a beat, the Chief laughed, and trotted around them to slap his ass. The sound of hoof on buttcheek echoed through the village, and the Zebra stallion winced before shivering. <“You're very heroic, Zuri. I always enjoyed your female body, and the tribe will thank you. You will be cooked in three days too. Use those three days to breed as many mares as possible. Your soul will feed the nation forever.”> As the Chief spoke, the Zebra stallion’s cock flopped free, eager, though Daring didn’t know why. The other Zebra, laughing, walked up and slapped the stallion’s other buttcheek, before taking his end of Daring’s stick from him. Freed of the responsibility, he trailed behind the Chief, who led them all to a stump near the firepit.

The chief took up a crude horn sitting by the stump, and blew it. All the Zebras in the village, those who had not been already attracted by Daring’s arrival or the dual smacks earlier, filtered in, while the Chief made a speech. <"Our hunting party is back! They brought two big meals, one through a hunt and one through the sacrifice! Zuri's balls should be empty within three days, and every mare and filly should be pregnant in three months. The captured mare, Daring Do, will be well fucked and filled with men's cum too!”>

Daring caught her name in the speech as she was finally taken off the stick, but her hooves were held tight again as they untied, then re-tied around the stump. She swore as she realized they’d tied her legs so she couldn’t close them, exposing them to the entire tribe, while she lay on her belly. “Fuck you!” She shouted, to the Chief’s laughter. He waved his hoof, and nearly every Zebra stallion in the crowd turned to look at her.

As Daring realized what was going on finally, she froze. If she hadn’t already, she likely would’ve pissed herself again, then and there. Then the Chief trotted over, mounting her and prodding the head of his still cum-dripping cock against Daring’s already well-used cunt. Before he pushed forward any further, however, he leaned down. “Daring Do… I do not know the meaning of your name. But do you know what my name means?”

“No fucking clue,” she growled. “Scumbag?”

“Hah,” chuckled the Chief. “No. My name is Zuberi. In your language, it means ‘Strong.’ And you too, are very strong, Daring Do. Still fighting, even now. I respect that. That is why you will make my people strong, too.”

For the first time all day, despite how much her crotch and legs hurt, Daring laughed. “Oh? How’s that, raping a defenceless mare? Gonna train all your stallions with me?”

Chief Zuberi shrugged. “For a time. But you are destined for the stewpot, ‘adventurer.” Daring’s eyes widened, but Zuberi kept going. “You will be boiled down into your purest form, flesh and spirit, and we will eat of that, grow stronger because of it. You will live on through us, Adventurer, but this is your last adventure. In the cycle, there will be more for you, and perhaps we will meet once again. But for now? You are meat, for our cocks and for our bellies.”

If Daring had been angry before, this time she was furious, and fought her bindings with that fury. “Cannibals! All of you! Rapist bastard cannibals, I’m going to get loose and throw you in your own damn stew! I will-aaaaugh!” She was cut off as Zuberi’s teeth clamped onto her mane, and he yanked her head back as he slammed his hips forward, impaling her bruised and bleeding pony pussy on his huge Zebra cock. She let out a guttural squeal as she felt the Chief’s hot breath down her neck, felt her cunt spread wide, even wider than when Khamisi had raped her, forced to look up at a new Zebra in front of her, jerking off in her face. Then Zuberi pulled her vision to the side, and there was another, and another. All waiting their turn.

Daring Do, the great adventurer, explorer of South Amareica and Zebrica and the Tropics and all the wild places of the world, was nothing but a cocksock to this tribe, a tool, a toy, for them to play with until she broke. And then she was going to be meat. Daring wanted to fight, wanted to scream, but all she could do was whine and wiggle as she was speared on a Zebra’s cock, tied to a stump, forced to watch as dozens of stallions used her as a toy, jerked off on her, raped her, fucked her, rubbed their cocks all over her.

The rest of the first day was a bit of a blur of cocks and cum and struggling, and she may have been partially in shock. The rape didn’t even stop as night fell, though it did slow down, and she was left empty for a bit between as Zebras drained themselves, slept, and came back, taking turns filling her and coating her.

Empty. That was how she started to think of herself when things were different, when there wasn’t a cock thrusting into her cunt or ass, because that quickly became her new normal. They tried their best to alleviate the pain, to their credit, oiling her entrances and painting them with salve, painting her with stripes, to keep the heat of the sun from overwhelming her. The only mercy they refused her was that they kept shaking her awake, wanting her to be conscious to experience every moment, every thrust, every ‘love bite’ they left along her neck and limbs.

They were tasting her, she eventually realized. Tasting their own cum, their own sweat, mixing with her own sweat, learning and teasing themselves as they fucked her, fucked the legendary Daring Do. As an extra bit of humiliation, they brought one of her books they’d gotten from somewhere and one of the more fluent Zebras in the tribe read it aloud, teaching all the foals of the mare whose ass and pussy were being ruined less than twenty feet away from them, who would soon be their meal. Even the Zebra colts that could, came up to her and fucked her, with help from the other Zebras.

As she heard her story being read, she went silent, trying to ignore it all, trying to pretend none of this was happening, retreat inside her mind, but then a Zebra would shake her awake again. She spent the second day like that, non-responsive and in a haze, trying to shut it all out as her legend was read, mockingly, within earshot. The only time she moved was when particularly brave Zebras would try to put their dicks into her mouth, and she’d snap her teeth at them, spit at them and call them names once again.

At the end of the second day, she had her first orgasm.

It snuck up on her, surprising her just as much as the Zebra that had already dumped six loads of hot Zebra cum inside her womb over the past two days. Eventually she’d gotten used to the feeling, opening up and loosening, unable to fight. The oils they used to sooth her wounds helped too, the pain fading, and that was left was the barest pleasure, the part of her brain that didn’t understand consent, simply understood she was being bred, over and over and over.

Daring came with a whimper, unable to hide it, as a fresh spurt of hot cum rolled out from around the Zebra cock buried balls-deep in her. But he hadn’t been the one to cum, and it wasn’t just one of the hundreds of loads that was constantly leaking out of her sticky, sopping wet crotch. This was hers and hers alone, finally taking what pleasure she could from the experience. That was the first moment where Daring Do started to truly break, not physically, not mentally, but emotionally.

From that point forward, she started being more vocal, unable to stop herself, panting as she was fucked, groaning as cocks slid up her ass and filled her cunt. Her mouth opened and a cock poked in, and Daring Do found herself not finding the strength to bite, her jaw simply sitting limply as an excited Zebra fucked her tired face. His cock tasted bitter, oily… He’d been fucking her ass just a few minutes ago, not that Daring Do cared. She’d shit herself midway through the second day, and it was mostly the water they gave her. Now her ass was clean of everything but cum and her own anal juices, the endless anal rape scrubbing away everything else.

When the Zebra pushed himself into her throat, she didn’t stop him, didn’t say a word, only made an aroused grunt, and she felt his cock pulse between her lips, filling her throat with his thick, virile, jets of Zebra cum, shot after shot after shot, until it was pulled free, still spunking lazily down her lips. She moved her tongue, tasting it. She had been here so long, only tasting her own salty sweat and the water they had her drink, that any different flavour was like a gift from Celestia herself. Then another stallion pushed his cock forward, prodding her muzzle, and she eagerly sucked it inside.

With that, the floodgates opened, and the Zebras were excited, gifted with a third hole for them to fuck, and much more compliant Daring Do. She stopped cursing at them, beginning to moan, getting more and more turned on with every new partner, whether they’d fucked her before or not. They started cumming all over her too, painting her bronze fur white with streak after streak, her own Zebra stripes on top of those she’d been painted with. She held her mouth open and closed her eyes, letting them spunk across her face and across her tongue.

When the first Zebra to not cum into her mouth instead took the opportunity to empty his bladder down her throat, she was surprised, but stopped herself from fighting it, thirsty for another new flavour. They stopped giving her water after that, opting simply to relieve themselves all over her, splashing her face, down her throat, up her ass, anywhere they could to fill her up with hot, musky, Zebra piss, marking her. Daring came to enjoy it midway through the third day, trying to taste the differences between stallions, even closing her eyes and trying to guess which Zebra she was sucking or drinking the piss from by flavour alone. Even the Zebra mares, dripping with cum, started coming up and relieving themselves all over her, into her mouth, and she relished in sucking the cum out of their pussies, drinking it down herself.

The third day ended and the fourth day began with the Chief being the last Zebra to fuck her, and to her surprise, he had her untied first. For the first time in nearly four days, she had control over her hooves, shaky and atrophied as it was. Some part of her told her to run, to flee, to fight, even to fly away, but she didn’t. She couldn’t stop herself from dropping to her knees in front of Chief Zuberi, where he sat on the stump, cock held high and pointing skyward for her to service him.

He held her mane with his hoof as he gently guided her down his length, listening to her gag and suckle across his fat Zebra dick. “Ahhhh… Daring Do. The great adventurer. Daring’s Zebra had come back, partially, simply from hearing so much of it, over and over and over. She couldn’t translate exactly, but it was something about her joining their tribe, about her being powerful.

She pulled off with a wet pop, suckling the big Zebra’s full, heavy nutsack. “Thank you, Chief Zuberi...Have I… Have I earned my way out of the stewpot, by any chance?”

Chief Zuberi chuckled. “No, Daring Do. This is your destiny now, more than being an adventurer ever was. You will become a meal for the tribe. Thank you for your sacrifice.”

The part of her mind that had screamed at her to flee was louder now, but Daring wasn’t listening to it. Three days of rape had broken her, and at some point she had been considering maybe the tribe was right, maybe it was an honour. But she wasn’t sure, yet. And every time she thought about it, her survival instinct told her to get stuffed.

Chief Zuberi groaned, and spunk flooded her mouth. His was the absolute tastiest, musky and thick and creamy. She swore whenever he came on her fur, it stuck tighter than any other Zebra’s. And he always came so much, every time. She swallowed and her mouth was full again, making her cough, making cum dribble out her nose, from around his cock even as much as it filled her lips. Her eyes caught the pregnant Zebra mare, who was watching and clopping. She was so lucky, she got to carry his foal. At least the lucky Zebra mare got her shirt, though she was wearing it unbuttoned so her belly would fit.

Daring Do gulped three more mouthfuls of Zebra spunk, looking back up and into his eyes as she did, before pulling off with a splatter of leftover cum splashing her belly. “Th-thank you, Chief Zuberi.”

Behind her, there was a lot of grunting as the large iron pot was set into the firepit, on top of an ungodly amount of kindling and wood. Zuberi chuckled and rustled her mane with his hoof, catching in the cum-stained hairs that glued it together. “You are welcome, Adventurer. Before you go, I found this in your pack. I have seen the cover of your book, you look good wearing it.” He pulled out her pith helmet from behind him. As she saw it, Daring’s mind lit up with a dozen thoughts, about how she was happy to have it back, how it represented her old life before she became part of the tribe, how she wouldn’t need it in the stewpot, but she took it anyway, seating it on her head. In a way, it was comforting.

Nodding, Chief Zuberi stood, pulling her to her hooves as well, and passing her to the Zebras who were setting up the pot. “They’re going to tie your hooves up again, just in case you have any second thoughts. We will leave you able to touch yourself, however. We find it improves the flavour significantly.”

Daring nodded, and as the Zebras held open loops of rope, she stepped into them, feeling them tighten them around her hooves. They bound her fores and hinds together, and securely, but that was all they did. She noted with a hint of humour, that these were still her own ropes she’d brought with her. They were as cum-stained and piss-soaked as she was, but apparently that wasn’t dirty enough to be inedible to the tribe. Another loop went into her mouth as a gag, and she sucked at it greedily, enjoying the taste.

She wasn’t really able to walk anymore with the her legs tied, so a larger Zebra picked her back up and put her across his back to carry her there. The fire had been started under the pot already, and Zebras were carrying buckets of fresh water over and dumping them in. Daring had been surprised when such an isolated tribe knew to boil their water to clean it, but she supposed if you didn’t in a jungle you were asking for all sorts of nastiness. Various fruits and vegetables and chunks of caught meat went in as well, making stock for the soup that she was going into.

Even mentally saying it still freaked her out, the fact that she was going to be boiled alive, she was going to die to become a giant pot of soup, and only now did it all really hit her. This was it. She started struggling, writhing in her bonds on the back of the Zebra carrying her, but another one grabbed her off his back, and they trotted up to the stewpot. The big one spoke, in broken Equuish. “You do not want no more? Go under, swallow water. You soup now anyway.”

Daring squirmed as she was placed into the pot, expecting it to be scalding, but it was almost pleasantly cool now, like taking a dip in a river. Her hinds hit the bottom first and slid forward, kicking cut carrots and bananas around under the surface, clouding it for a few minutes. She finally came to a stop when her rump hit the bottom of the pot, and it was the perfect height to keep her head above the rim. She understood what the big Zebra had said; if she wanted to, or even if she slipped, she’d slide under the surface, and she wasn’t sure she could get back up with her hooves tied.

Was that really how she wanted to go out, after all this? Drown herself in a stewpot, before it even got boiling? What if rescue came ten minutes after she’d bubbled her last? They’d feel very silly. And it was such a lame death, anyway. No, Daring Do would fight to the end, fight to stay awake for as long as she could, endure her imminent soupification even for the barest hint of survival. Maybe she would survive, maybe they’d decide she was done even though she was still alive, serving as soup stock. If she did that, maybe they’d take her back out, decide she was strong enough to become one of the tribe. Maybe she’d get to keep sucking Chief Zuberi’s cock and drinking his wonderful cum, and she would be safe.

Her eyes wandered, once she realized she’d been staring at her submerged crotch, and clopping slowly under the surface. They’d stopped dumping in the water, but the vegetables were still coming, filling up the water around her. Around her, the tribe was waking up. It was early in the morning, but they were emerging from their huts to watch. To watch her boil and simmer.

She was clopping again. Stop it.

She heard some chatter and moaning, and turned back to the stump where she’d been tied up for the last three days. There, she was surprised—she recognized the first Zebra that had taken her ass, all that time ago. He was bent over the stump, in the same position she had been but without the bindings, willingly taking Zuberi’s thick mare-ruining cock up his ass and moaning like a Las Pegasus prostitute. He wasn’t bad on the eyes, Daring admitted. She’d been kinda distracted before by the whole ass-rape thing, but now that every Zebra in the village had done the same thing, it wasn’t as big of a deal. He even looked kinda feminine, with wide hips and a thin barrel.

Zuberi grunted, slamming himself balls-deep inside the stallion’s plush rump, dumping a load that must have splashed down his legs if it was half the volume of the load Daring had swallowed. Then he pulled out, and Daring’s eyes widened as he was handed one of the spits she’d seen before. The Zebra didn’t seem scared in the slightest, maybe a little apprehensive as he saw it, but he still crawled up on the stump proper and laid sideways. Two other Zebras, who Daring also recognized as Khamisi, and… That must have been Tendaji? She’d heard his name a couple more times while he was fucking her. His hunting partners were holding him steady as Chief Zuberi lathered oil down the wooden shaft of the spit.

Finally, he was satisfied, and Zuberi lined the sharp end up with his gaping asshole, still wide from going balls-deep in the femmy Zebra stallion. The willing Zebra still spread his asscheeks wide with his hooves, and laid down flat on the stump, cock hard as a rock as it bobbed. Chief Zuberi smiled at him, then slid it inside, getting about a foot in before he stopped. With a free hoof, Tendaji jerked the Zebra off, wanting to ease the process. After they both took deep breaths, Zuberi pushed it forward and the femmy Zebra cried out, in pain, in pleasure, maybe both? But after a few seconds of pushing, that was cut off as he coughed blood, then pulled his head back. The sharpened, bloodstained edge of the spit slid up his throat and out from between his lips, and she could see his tongue running across it, tasting it.

They gave him a couple seconds to adapt as well as he could before lifting the spit off the stump, forcing gravity to shove him further down it’s length. When he reached the middle, they stopped it, tying his hooves to the spit and holding him horizontally again, this time on his back, head hanging off the edge of the stump. Daring couldn’t see his expression, but his cock was still hard, twitching with arousal, and it took a few more strokes from Khamisi for his whole body to twitch and his cock to start spraying white-hot Zebra cum all over himself. He was basting himself for the tribe, Daring realized.

She was clopping again. Why couldn’t she stop herself?

She was really warm, she realized, watching them rub the spitted Zebra’s spunk into his belly fur. She looked down and saw bubbles rising from the bottom of the pot. Not a lot, not quickly, but enough to make her realize the water’s temperature was rising. She hadn’t even noticed until now. She looked back up to see they’d picked up the ends of the spit, and were walking him over to stakes set in the edge of the firepit, right next to her. Placing him down, Tendaji started to spin the spit with a crude wooden handle at the end. The Zebra was just meat now, just meat, roasting on a fire, waiting to be cooked.

Just like her. Daring moaned, in fear, in arousal, even she wasn’t sure. Three days of rape and four without sleep were taking their toll on her mind. She watched him rotate, watching his face. The Zebra was smiling as best he could with a wooden shaft impaling his from anus to lips, and even then, he was slowly using the leverage of his tied hooves to drag himself back and forth along the spit about an inch in either direction. His cock was hard again from the sensation of the full-body fuck, and flopped down every rotation, smacking against his meaty hips every time.

Daring Do yanked her eyes away, but it took so much effort, an ungodly amount of effort. She couldn’t really blame the tribe. She was hungry too. All she’d eaten and drank for the last three days was water, cum, Zebra piss, and some trail mix in the plane before.

Things went hazy for Daring for a little while, spacing out in the slowly-heating pot. The sun rose and the lighting around her changed, but for her it felt like it was taking an eternity, yet happening in the blink of an eye. She was almost bored, now that she didn’t have a dozen stallions every hour fucking her senseless. Her hoof felt nice, really nice, and she definitely clouded the broth up a bit with her marecum a few times. For the most part, there was simply nothing happening except the carrots drifting around.

A squirt of cum suddenly splashed on her and into the water around her, and she looked over with confusion, realizing the spitted Zebra had gone still beside her with a look of bliss in his bloodshot, darkening eyes. In the time since she looked at him last, his fur had started to singe off, leaving the faint impressions of stripes on his bare flesh, which was turning a tasty golden-brown. His cock was hanging limply now, having shot it’s last load, and lacking even the strength to go flaccid properly. Daring couldn’t stop herself from licking her lips as she saw his balls dripping with juices from the marbling meat, imagining their flavour, chewing one of them in her mouth… Soon, her flesh was gonna look like that too…

That thought shocked her out of her hungry daydream, and she looked down to see just how much she actually had cooked in that time. The water wasn’t quite boiling, but it was close, and getting really uncomfortable, like a scalding bath, but like one she’d already been sitting in for an hour. She could feel the heat, feel it brush across her hooves, but it didn’t hurt any more. Maybe that was just her nerves starting to burn and go dead.

The cum and piss she’d been coated in had all but washed off now, clouding up the water. They really must not have had many taboos about that, heck, maybe they thought since it came from the tribe, it only added to the flavour. For the first time since she got in, Daring took a sniff at how the soup smelled, how she smelled. It was pleasant, like a home-cooked meal. She could taste the roasted vegetables, smell the musk from her spices, smell slow-boiled meat… she was smelling herself, she realized lethargically, and she was starting to smell delicious.

At some point the ropes had come free, not meant to be boiled. Daring’s hooves had been free for what must have been at least an hour or two, and she was so spaced out she hadn’t realized until now. She tried to hold up her hoof, and it wouldn’t come, like she couldn’t feel it, like it had fallen asleep. After about a minute of effort, she managed to wake it up enough to pull it up and out of the water.

For a moment, she thought she’d accidentally pulled a root vegetable out with her hoof. But as she gently shook it, trying to drop it back into the stew, she slowly came to realize, no, that was her hoof. She barely recognized it. All the fur had fallen off and either dissolved or been stirred into the broth. Guess they didn’t mind that either, but Daring vastly preferred that to having been skinned. Not that it made much difference now. Daring’s flesh had been slow boiled until she practically was skinned, slowly burning and coming apart. Out curiosity, she brought her foreleg to her mouth and seized it with her teeth, then pulled it it away.

A tasty-looking strip of Daring Do meat, unrecognizable from any other animal, peeled off, leaving a bloodless gash down her foreleg. She was shocked she let the strip drop into the broth, then brought her hoof back, shaking. This was it. This was her last chance. She was untied, she could still move, but if she stayed any longer she wasn’t sure if she could trust her limbs to respond. The muscles would be too stiff, too cooked, and yet too tender to move. She had to go, now, or she would never get the chance again. She could recover from this, pony medical magic had treated much worse than this.

Slowly, she brought her foreleg back to her lips, and took a smaller, more delicate bite, tearing a short ribbon of flesh from alongside the first furrow. Chewing it between her teeth slowly, she felt the juices squirt out across her tongue. Her juices.

Daring Do was delicious. She never thought she’d be able to say those words about herself, never thought anypony else ever would. She let her meat sit on her tongue, dripping cooked, tasty juices, let them fill her mouth. If she ran, she thought while chewing, she was never going to make it. Her responses were too sluggish, her reactions too slow, her limbs too responsive. Thinking she could escape before was a pipe dream, the last gasp of a pony who didn’t want to die, didn’t want to become food, didn’t want to feed this tribe of beautiful, carnivorous tribe of Zebras.

She swallowed the strip of meat. Her meat. Daring Do realized what she had already known, ever since she was brought to this village, since Khalisi had fucked her for the first time. She was meat. Daring Do was Daring Done. This was her final adventure. And maybe it was all the rape, all the mental trauma, maybe it was lack of sleep or the starvation… But she wouldn’t have it any other way. Maybe what Chief Zuberi had said was true, her strength would go to feed the Tribe. Her spirit would live on. This was a million times better, for everypony involved, than if she’d died in a hospital bed, or worse, been killed by a trap, in some crumbling ruin where nopony would ever find her corpse. These ponies knew who she was, where her remains went. They went to feed them. And their remains would feed the tribe as well, when they were cooked and eaten.

Daring felt the weight of a lifetime of stolen artifacts, of danger, of adventure, lift off her back in an instant. Or maybe it was just heat stroke, since the water had started to boil properly a few minutes ago. Daring Do was satisfied, at least in this moment, and she laid back against the hot edge of the pot to simmer. She didn’t even feel the heat of the metal as it seared her back, though she was confused where the steam came from. Lolling her head to the side lazily, she watched a Zebra mare tanning a hide on a rack. Huh. The hide had a cutie mark, though it was faded from heat. She wondered for a moment who that pony had been, before shrugging. Whoever they were, they had fed the tribe.

Time seemed to skew again. The mare moved like a tape in fast-forward, in fact the whole village moved like that around her, but she focused only on the tanning Zebra and the ponies who stood by her pot, stirring the broth around her. At some point, she came one last time, and then she couldn’t feel anything below her chest anymore, and when she moaned from pleasure, from her final orgasm, a cloud of hot steam puffed out of her mouth. Her insides were cooking, too.

Night was falling when Chief Zuberi suddenly appeared in front of her. Her eyes were getting cloudy, and Daring Do could barely breathe. Her heart was barely beating, just enough to keep her alive, and that wasn’t going to last much longer. She opened her mouth to thank Chief Zuberi, or was it Chef Zuberi? But her lips cracked when she did, and she found herself unable to speak, only letting out another puff of steam.

Still, he saw her moving, and pointed it out to the Zebras nearby, still cooking her. <“See? I told you he was strong. Even after she's been cooked, she's fighting.”> The Zebras cheered, and for a moment, Daring thought she could hear her heart. But her heart wasn’t beating fast enough, that had to be the Zebras celebrating. Good. She was glad she could give them such happiness.

Zuberi took her pith helmet off her head, and motioned for something. She tried to turn her head to see what, but it was like her veins were filled with solid lead. She just couldn’t move. Thankfully, Zuberi held it in front of her. Her knife, the old survival knife she’d had in her boot at the start of this happy event. Grabbing her mane, Zuberi plunged the knife into the side of her neck. For a moment, Daring felt betrayed, betrayed that he would kill her now, instead of letting her become food so fully, betrayed that in her final moments he would cause her pain. But she didn’t feel anything. She didn’t feel the blade, the heat of the stew, nothing. She didn’t even feel herself bleed, though she knew she was, it dyed the soup a faint pink.

Zuberi sawed for a few seconds, before air rushed into place Daring could barely feel and yet knew air should never touch. Then her world shifted as he pulled her out, away from the stewpot. Daring felt cold, now that she was away from the heat, held by her mane above the Chief. She rotated around slowly, unable to control it, and had a few moment of confusion as she saw herself, still somehow in the stewpot, but minus her head. Where did it go? She wondered to herself, as steam hissed upwards and out of her neck like a chimney.

<“This mare, Daring Do, was a great adventurer!”> The Chief shouted to the whole village. But to Daring herself, it sounded like it was underwater. Maybe because her body was slipping into the stew? <“She gave her body to us so that we could grow stronger! She gave her Spirit so that we could be better! Eat it tonight, and hear it in you!”>

Daring’s vision rotated again, and her half-cooked eyes turned lethargically to see the whole tribe, cheering, though she could barely hear them. Then she was moving again, the world was a blur. When it settled the edges were getting dark, but she could make out enough to see that she was somewhere at head height. She tried to move, tried to walk, but she couldn’t feel anything. Weird. Then Chief Zuberi was suddenly there, placing her pith helmet back on her head. That was nice of him. He was such a handsome Zebra.

Then Daring’s vision was fading, the darkness at the edges reaching the center as colours changed and fell away, new ones replacing them. The last thing she saw was the crowd of Zebras, all different colours, sparkling, crowding around the stewpot…

* * *

A few hours later, Zuberi was stuffed. Between Daring soup and roast Zuri alongside it, the Tribe would be fed for a good while. Still, he would need a new hunter with Khalisi’s pack, and a dozen other jobs. He looked down over his new potbelly, between his hinds at Mchumba, whose potbelly was with foal and with soup, and smiled at her as she sucked his cock greedily, looking for dessert. As she did, he looked again to Daring’s head, only lightly singed from the heat and wearing a relaxed, if slightly confused expression, as well as her strange hat. He’d keep her head on that stake for a day or two, maybe fuck it a few times when Mchumba was busy, then hand it over to Sefu to strip it down to a skull and preserve it. She would be a grand trophy.

His eyes drifted to the book poking out of her discarded bag. He couldn’t read the pony language, but reading her legends would certainly be good incentive. He’d have Sanaa teach him. He smiled. He was eager to learn more of the legend that had given herself to the tribe, after all.