Chapters Equestria Trainers' Society: Fish Out of Water
Scylla found herself riding a wave of tranquilizers, phasing in and out of awareness, or what little she could have had in her predicament. She was bound up, trapped in a net, drugged, blindfolded, gagged, and held within some cramped space. Her senses were thus muted, but she could taste the flavor of her own bikini bottom, smell the fragrance of sweat and flesh, and feel the padding inside of the crate she and her father had been stuffed in. At least she assumed it was Pathfinder, seeing as the gryphons told her they had captured him too, and that the moans of her new, hopefully temporary, roommate sounded identifiably male. Aside from that, all she could feel was a powerful sense of vertigo, which her drug addled mind could only figure was a byproduct of said drugs.
The kelpie, distraught. Sobbed softly into her gag. What are they going to do with us? She thought to herself, her freshly forming tears being absorbed into the cloth around her eyes.
The gryphons said that they would be made slaves, but why? Was it just because they wanted to have sex with her? If that were the case, she would have done so, if reluctantly, back at their home if it would have spared her and Pathfinder this. If she could have even negotiated her father’s release at the cost of her body, she would have done so, but then again the two males that invaded their home didn’t seem like the type to make deals. For a while, these thoughts were the only things Scylla could focus on as she slipped in and out of being awake, the thought process becoming a cycle as she forgot what she had been thinking about, or got distracted by the distinct sense of vertigo she was feeling.
Her crate mate, of whom she had guessed correctly was Pathfinder, was in a similar state of mind, with the drugs in his system making it hard for him to do anything but struggle to open his eyelids. When he found the strength to do so though, his eyes were always met by Scylla. There was hardly any light in the box they had both been stuffed into, but he could tell it was her from her sounds and feel of her aquatic pony skin through the netting that held her.
Unlike his daughter, Path had no information about why they had been taken from their home, so instead of dwelling about what he could have done differently to avert this, he was using his conscious moments to ponder why this had happened and how he could get both out of it now that they had been caught. Problem was the harder he tried to think, the more he drifted back to sleep, which made his plans for escape fairly fruitless.
Unfortunately, this lasted for some time, and all they could really do was await what was coming for them. Eventually the sense of vertigo left them, with Path realizing that the box they were in had been transported via air travel, and they were now feeling ground underneath as their container was placed on a cart and wheeled to its final destination.
“Is this the Vanhoover delivery?” Path heard, muffled and quiet through the wood and cloth padding that held him and Scylla, it being nearly drowned out behind an onsetting sea of white noise. It was a woman’s voice, but he could hardly tell any more than that for the time being.
“Yeah,” said another, gruffer female voice, “It’s the fish mare and her femcolt father.”
Though still muffled, Path recognized this one as the gryphon girl who beat him up before. Gilly, he believed her name was in his drug induced state. So that bitch escorted us personally , Path thought, realizing how her being here would be an issue if he tried to make an escape with Scylla, though in the condition he was in a foal wouldn’t have much issue preventing such an attempt.
“Good,” the first female replied, “Lady Tourmaline has been anticipating the arrival of the kelpie.”
“But not the femcolt?” The gryphon asked, a bit of attitude forming in her voice.
“No,” answered the first female, “He is just going to become general slave stock.”
“Then why did we have to grab him too?” the gryphon questioned in an irritated tone. “I got tackled in the back just so your mistress could have another sissy slave boy in her little pony prison.”
“You appear to be quite mistaken Miss Gilda,” said a new, also feminine voice. Unlike the gryphon’s which was full of attitude, and the first woman’s which was soft and pleasant, this new voice was authoritarian, with a hint of sophistication behind it. “We didn’t request his capture to simply add another body to our kennels. It was to prevent anypony who would notice the kelpie was missing from roaming about freely. Also, this is not a prison, it’s a training facility for wayward submissives. And lastly, Li Min is not my slave. Her master is just loaning her to me for a while as she recovers from-”
“Lady Tourmaline,” the first woman cut in, “Excuse my interruption, but if we don’t begin processing soon, the tranquilizers used on the two in the box might run its course, and you know how much of a problem new inductees can get when fully awake.”
“I suppose you are right,” the third voice agreed, “Better to use up their time of docility wisely. Miss Gilda, would you please unlock the box?”
Pathfinder heard a huff, and then a rattling of keys. Finally Path and Scylla were going to be let out, though they weren’t going to have a chance to fight back. Even after all the time it took to get from their home to wherever they were now, Path felt that he could hardly stand, let alone fend off a flock of gryphons. He had to at least try though, as what kind of stallion would he be if he just allowed them to have their way. With the sound of locks being removed from the box, he prepared himself for action. Even if he could only bite down on their hands as they tried to pull him and Scylla out, he was determined to make a mark.
The top opened, light seeping through the cracks in the lid, forcing Path to momentarily shut his eyes. When he reopened them, the light had once more been blocked, which made the pegasus think that his kidnappers had for some reason closed the box again. Then he noticed that the ‘lid’ was moving downwards, and was in the shape of a rather large hand.
“Oh crap!” he yelled out, finding a sudden burst of energy had filled his body when the hand wrapped around his neck and pulled him out of the container with the greatest of ease. In seconds, he found himself suspended over the box, flapping his wings as rapidly as the drugs in his system would allow as a sizable bull held him up by one, incredibly muscular arm.
A fucking minotaur?! Path thought, having to hold his breath in the grip of the monstrous creature. It was bad enough that he had to deal with those agile and predatory gryphons, but an overbearingly powerful minotaur was near impossible for the average pony to overcome physically.
He wasn’t the only one either, as now that he was out of the box, Pathfinder could see exactly what awaited him outside it, and what nightmare he had awakened into. The room itself couldn’t have been any more the depiction of a stereotypical dungeon. The walls were made up of stone block, and was lit by little more than torchlight from wall mounted holders. Along the walls, ceiling, and floor were a variety of holding devices, ranging from simple chained bonds affixed in the outlining stone with metal plates held in spot by large bolts, to holding areas that looked much like prison cells.
He didn’t have to imagine what it would be like if a pony was place inside them, as many of these restraints and holding chambers were already occupied, with ponies of all types caught within them. The white noise he had heard before was the sounds of their sorrow, desperate pleas, and lashes of anger. None of which was given any heed by the unrestrained personnel in the room, of which consisted of an odd assembly of creatures.
First were the minotaur, of which there was at least a dozen. They walked around this rather large holding area completely unabated, apparently acting as guards and wardens. A few took their duty a bit further, tapping at the cell bars with club sized nightsticks, using them to antagonize the helpless and silence the ones begging for release. One even went a step beyond that, and grabbed one of the more hostile mares by the arm when she worked up the nerve to try and attack.
The mare, an earth pony, found herself pulled forward until her body pressed up against the bars, her breasts poking through them as a single bar separated them. The mare tried to fight this with her other arm, but the minotaur managed to trap that one in his grip as well, joining her wrists together in his palm. Trapped as she was, the minotaur took to teaching her a lesson, and with his own guard baton, proceeded to land a series of blows against her vulnerable tits. The mare tried to resist, to pull away and block the strikes with her arms, but the minotaur held her appendages downward, and didn’t allow her to take so much as a step backwards without getting pressed back into the bars, Seeing this unfold, something told Path that most ponies brought to this horrid place didn’t try to fight back for too long.
Becoming disturbed by this prolonged act of sadism, the pegasus stallion redirected his eyes to the other group of creatures in the room, the gryphons. Where there was a dozen minotaur, there were only about eight of the feline fowls in the room, and they were likewise busy. They were going about removing some other ponies from other boxes like the one Path had been pulled from, taking the time to strip them of any clothing they might have had on before chaining them to the wall or placing them in an empty cell. Apparently Pathfinder and Scylla wasn’t the only new arrivals to this terrible place, which worried the pegasus about just how big this operation was.
Aside from these two groups of intimidating species, there were only two others in the room who weren’t bound or imprisoned. Two female ponies, or at least Path believed they were ponies. At least one of the two was identifiable equine, a dark purple crystal pony with long, blue hair flowing down her back, stopping where the top half of her two piece suit did on her body, just above the tail that was sticking out from the back part of her skirt. No, not just a crystal pony, a crystal unicorn. The horn atop her head stood out like a sore thumb, but as he was being choked, he had little desire to contemplate how odd it was to see such a rare, unheard of pony breed standing in aside him.
The other creature though… she was a little harder to determine whether she was truly a pony or not. It had many features that seemed equine, like her horse-like hooves, and the general shape of her body and head, but there were several things off about her. The first thing Pathfinder’s eyes were drawn to was her skin, or what portions he could see that wasn’t covered by her clothing, a secretary style suit similar to the crystal mare, but with the front pulled open to give an open view to her fully exposed bosom, with a pair of half framed glasses on her snout and a clipboard in hand to complete the appearance. The skin was not covered in fur like most other pony species, nor was its bare skin like Scylla’s. It instead appeared to be covered in a bunch of large bronze colored scales, smooth ones that overlayed over one another much like a snake’s.
Continuing the snake analogy, the creature’s neck seemed a bit longer and slenderer than an average pony. Almost like a pony and Llama mated, and created something in between the two lengths. Not that Path saw much of it though, as she wore around her extra long throat a piece of neck gear that covered it in its entirety. Because of his own exploits into the more kinky aspects of sexuality, Path was able to identify this as a posture collar, and it was only by its shape that he could grasp an idea of what her concealed neck looked like.
Then there was her mane and tail. They were both of a snowy white, which in of itself was not odd. Ponies did have a wide variance in hair colors after all. The style of it was peculiar though. The hair on her head was short, and flowed downwards until it arced off in different directions, becoming somewhat jagged in shape. Her tail, while long, was of a similar pattern, and it made the mare look like she had been stuff with a lightning bolt, and all the energy had went from her head to her hooves, grounding itself in the earth as the plasmic energy exited her form.
This analysis of his surroundings took little over half a minute to make in his panicked state, and before he could be in danger of asphyxiation from the minotaur’s grip, the crystal mare said, “That’s enough Sartek. You can set him on the floor.”
With a snort from his snout, the minotaur compiled, lowering Path to the ground and loosening his grip only to let the pegasus breath, which the stallion did liberally when given the opportunity. Before long though, he gave the obligatory questions all abductees had to eventually ask their kidnappers.
“Who are you?!” He demanded to know, adding to it another inquiry of “What do you want with us?!”
The unicorn lifted her hand to the front of her muzzle and gave a few short laughs into it. “They are always so cute when they act tough in the face of their superiors. Don’t you worry though, we will train that mean streak out of you soon enough.”
Path glared at the crystal unicorn angrily. She was treating his questions like they didn’t matter, ignoring them while mocking his actions. He did however understand why she acted that way, seeing all the other prisoners there were present. This wasn’t her first rodeo, and there was little Pathfinder could do even if the same were true about him. Those that were kidnapped were rarely at an advantage over the kidnapper.
“Please...” he said, accepting the position he was in at the moment; naked, drugged, and within the grip of a creature nearly three times his body mass, “Tell me what is going on here. Why did you kidnap me and Scylla?”
“Hmm...” the crystal mare hummed, lower her hand and revealing a wicked smirk behind it. “Seems you’re a quicker learner than most.” she said as she began circling around the pegasus.
Pathfinder tried his best to keep his eyes on her while he could, and responded with, “I can see that at the moment I have no way of getting out of this. I’m in an unknown area, completely surrounded, and overpowered.”
“Smart, cute, and aware of his position in life,” the mare said, placing a hand on his side from behind, “I like. Sartek, please release this stallion. I would like to talk to him without the hostilities.”
The minotaur did as the unicorn requested, and removed his hand, only so the mare could replace it with her own, much daintier hand.
“Let me make you a quick deal Mr… um…”
“It’s Pathfinder, Lady Tourmaline.” said the reptilian mare near them, having found the stallion’s name in the papers on her clipboard.
“Pathfinder, of course.” the crystal mare continued, “If you allow me to touch your body, and do so in silence, then I will tell you all you need to know about your current situation. The moment I hear you make a noise though, you will be sent off to be processed. Is that understood?”
Path was about to answer her, but then caught himself in the trap the mare was presenting. Anypony would probably do one of two things right now. The first was tell her off if they didn’t care what she had to say, which would have them carted off immediately. The second, if they did wish to get some sort of information of what was happening to them, would be to say something like ‘Yes’ or ‘Fine’. Very few would realize that a mare like this had already started her little game, and that any verbal response was failure. So with this in mind, Path gave a nod, telling the mare behind him that he truly understood what she wanted from him.
“Well then,” the mare started, moving the hand at Path’s side up and down, while resting the one partially around his neck on his shoulder, “I suppose I’ll begin this bout of exposition by answering the ‘Who are you’ question. I am Schorl Tourmaline, though most call me Lady Tourmaline. I am a... collector, I suppose you could say, of both rare and submissive creatures. I am also an advocate for the ideals of natural supremacy.”
With that said, Schorl took her body and pressed it against the pegasus’ back. She must have been enjoying herself, as he could feel her heart heavily beating through her suit jacket.
“‘Natural supremacy? What’s that?’, you might ask yourself,” she went on to say as she moved her groping hand to his chest, feeling around liberally as if she were mapping out his body with only the sense of touch, “To put it simply, it is the idea that there are two types of ponies in the world. Those destined to rule, and those destined to serve. The strong, the highly intelligent, the willful… the wealthy; they make up the former of these two groups, and are destined to be the rulers of this world as much as your cutie mark makes you destined to be… whatever it is your occupation was before arriving here. Then there are those like you, who are to put it nicely, are lacking in all these fields. There is nothing inherently wrong with that though, nor is it meant to be insulting. It’s just the rules of…” Schorl said, the tone of her voice turning from ‘explanatory’ to ‘sultry’ as her hand slowly ran down the fur of his chest and belly, “Nature.”
On the utterance of that final word, Schorl jetted her hand downwards and grabbed ahold of the sack positioned between Path’s legs. The pegasus felt her grip and caress the holder of his testicles, playing with them with one hand, being enthusiastic about the act, but careful enough not to hurt him as she did. The attention to such a sensitive part of his body made Pathfinder pant audibly, but the noise in the room from the other captives were preventing the crystal pony from hearing this, else she was letting it slide to allow this game to continue a bit longer.
While she showed no signs of detecting the sounds Path was making, she showed much delight in his movements. No longer could he just hold still as she had her way, as his body squirmed and his dick began to grow out of it’s sheath against his will. Not all were amused by this though, as one of Schorl’s entourage was becoming increasingly annoyed by all this.
“Can I get paid for this loser already?” asked Gilda, glaring at both the ponies in front of her with her arms crossed.
“My dear Gilda,” Schorl say to the gryphon, not ceasing her fondlings for a moment, “Is something the matter? I would think someone as fierce and ruthless as yourself could handle watching a cutie like this getting molested without getting flustered.”
Gilda’s feathers ruffled a little at that, but settled down quickly as she turned her head and closed her eyes, “That’s not it.” she refuted, “This is just a waste of my time, and I’m not getting paid to watch you play with a guy’s dick.”
The gryphon’s words made Schorl’s ears perk up even higher than they already were. “Very well then. Li Min, I want you to mark down on the ledger that Gilda will get double the agreed upon payment.”
This cause Gilda’s eyes to pop back open, “Double?!”
“If she is patient and watches me molest this stallion till I’m satisfied.”
The promise of her payment multiplying pulled in Gilda’s attention, and she locked her eyes on the two ponies, watching them like a hawk, or perhaps an eagle in her case.
“Good, now where was I?” Schorl asked aloud, pleased that the gryphon was as predictable as the rest of her greedy race, “Oh yes…” she continued on, grabbing the Pathfinder’s cock, “The other thing you specifically asked, ‘What do we want with you?’. Well by now I think it should be fairly obvious, but we want to make you a slave. The inferior must submit to their greaters, and what better way to do that than to bonded to one in servitude.”
The blunt declaration of the crystal unicorn’s intentions was shocking for Path, but so too was her gentle strokings of his shaft as she said it. She was really getting off to the idea of enslaving him against his will, and the feelings of discomfort she was making him have during all this. Anya had warned him in their own experiments into BDSM of people like this. She called them ‘predatory doms’, describing them as those who had very aggressive and dominant personalities, and enjoyed preying upon those too weak to resist their urges and desires. When he had heard of them though, Pathfinder just assumed they were the type to tie down their partners while they were asleep and tickle the frogs of their hooves until they came themselves. Little did he expect something to this degree.
“And that is why we brought you here, to the ‘Equestria Trainers’ Society’.” Schorl announced with pride, doubling the pace of her strokes. “This is my own personal training facility/slave taming business where we take submissive ponies like yourself, who don’t yet comprehend that their purpose in life is at the end of somepony else’s leash. Here you will be trained to submit, serve, and optimize your abilities to be the best slave pegasus you can be for your new master or mistress...” Schorl brought her muzzle close to Pathfinder’s ear, and finished her statement with “Whether you like it or not” to press the point that the pegasus’ feelings on the matter were inconsequential.
If this mare was to have her way, he was going to be tamed, brainwashed, and trained into a sex slave for some random mare who would then rule over his life. Wait though , he thought, Did she say ‘master’!? Knowing that she did, Path felt an ill sensation crawl up his spine. With that, and the gryphon’s tendency of calling him a ‘femcolt’, Path was getting increasingly worried about what his kidnappers had planned for him. Despite his girlish appearance, which caused ponies to sometimes confuse him as a mare, Pathfinder had no interest in other males sexually. Some stallions had made offers to date him, or went so far as to ask if he would sleep with them, but he was straight and never so much as humored the idea that he could be gay. If he were forced into having sex with another male, that would be his number one nightmare come to life.
Or number two, as he was quickly reminded that there was one other thing that he hated more than the idea of taking it in the rear from another stallion when one of the other minotaur in the room came over and reached into the box that still contained Scylla inside. When the bull pulled his arm back out, he brought with it the kelpie, still caught in the net she had been wrapped up inside.
“OH!” Schorl practically squealed at the sight of her, releasing Pathfinder from her grip to rush over to Scylla’s side. “Is this the little fish mare I’ve heard so much about? She does look like a cutie in her little net, and is that... Why yes it is. She has little gills on her cheeks. How adorable. Do you think that red hair is normal for them?”
Schorl went on and on, clamoring over Scylla like a foal would some animal at a zoo, all the while Scylla making sounds of worry and discomfort from behind the gag in her mouth. She must have been so confused and scared about what was going on, and Pathfinder didn’t blame her for being so. This whole ordeal was terrifying, and she didn’t even have the luxury of being aware of her surroundings. All she knew was there were a bunch of ponies making sounds of dismay, anger, and pain all around her, and that meant she would be doing the same herself shortly.
“Schorl,” Path said boldly as he faced the crystal mare, looking a bit silly with his dick still sticking out from her attentions to it, “I understand that you want me to be a slave, but I beg you not to make Scylla go through this too. She’s too-”
“Weak?” Schorl interrupted, “Innocent? Fragile? Timid? Some other trait that makes her perfect for the training we provide here?”
“...Special to me... to see her go through this.” Pathfinder said, finishing his statement. “I don’t care what happens to me, but please let her go. If you do that, I’ll do whatever it is you want of me.” Schorl looked back to Pathfinder, the expression on her face a bit stunned. Something Path had said touched something within her.
At least that is what he thought, until she took that sympathetic look and turned it into a cruel smile moments later. “Sorry, but no can do,” she answered, the glee rolling off her lips. “It’s a sweet sentiment, and you deserve a medal for such selflessness, but we have very important plans for this one.”
“But-!”
“And even if we didn’t, we couldn’t so simply release her back into the public. The whole point of why we bothered to capture you with her in the first place was to prevent you from reporting her disappearance. Why should we assume she wouldn’t do the same, especially for somepony as valorous as you?”
Path had already know that he wasn’t there true target, having heard the crystal mare say so while he was still in the box, but for some reason he had hoped that the offer of a new, completely obedient slave would have peeked her interest.
“Besides, eventually both you and this one will obey the will of The Society regardless. To be honest, you have nothing to offer us.” Turning her back to the netted pony, Schorl fully faced Pathfinder, for once looking him eye to eye, “But… I do understand your position. If my information is correct, you are this mare’s adoptive father. That must make you feel a great deal of responsibility for the girl.”
“That’s right.” Pathfinder replied.
“Then I’ll cut you a small break.” said Schorl, “I’ll allow you to accompany her during her processing and comfort her in this time of need. Normally we keep male and female slaves separate from one another unless they are working or serving a member together, but you are her father, so I don’t think you’re going to try any funny stuff. At least I hope you’re not in one of those kind of relationships.”
“Gross...” said Pathfinder, catching Schorl’s implication of incest.
“Then we are in agreement, for now at least.” Schorl responded, “You can follow us to the processing room and-”
“Actually Lady Tourmaline,” Li Min said, cutting into what Schorl had to say for a second time during this encounter, “Your schedule has you in a meeting with Mr. Tailwind.”
“It can be pushed back a while. This is a bit important.” said Schorl, wanting to wave off any other prior engagement in order to see how things turned out with the Society’s newest exotic slave mare.
“It’s about the Griffonstone delivery.” Li Min added.
The mention of that particular detail gave the crystal pony pause. Then she placed her hand on her chin, contemplating her options and weighing them against one another. This lead to her mumbling to herself as she paced back and forth, but finally she let out a muffled yell as she clenched her face tightly and screamed into her closed muzzle.
“Fine! I’ll go see Gadwall, but I’m not happy that these two events are conflicting with one another!” Schorl yelled at the lizard-like mare.
“My apologies Lady Tourmaline.” said Li Min nonchalantly, “If it pleases you, I’ll submit myself for proper punishment during this evenings’ free time for this lapse in judgement when it comes to your appointments.”
“Yes, do that.” Schorl said, “And see to it that the kelpie and her father make it to the processing room.”
“And would you like me to have the father fill out a contract?” Li Min asked.
“Yes, yes,” Schorl answered with a dismissive wave of her hand, “Sartek, would you please accompany me to meet with Mr. Tailwind?”
“And what about me?” Gilda said before the crystal mare left the room.
“Oh yes, your payment,” Schorl said aloud, having truly forgotten about Gilda in all the excitement, “Come along and I will get things settled for you. I’ll even throw in a little bonus on top of everything for being such a good sport about all this.”
Gilda smirked, “Now that’s more like it.” she said following the crystal mare and her minotaur bodyguard out one of several doors that lead out of the room.
Having left, it appeared that Li Min had been left in charge of things, and with the authority granted to her by Schorl, she started listing off orders. “Demus,” she said, addressing one of the minotaur that appeared to be standing about more than the others, “I need you to come with me and Rubric to escort the kelpie and her guardian to the processing room.”
“Fine,” the minotaur said, pushing himself off the wall he was leaning against, “I was getting tired of guarding these whiny, untamed slaves anyways.”
The minotaur holding Scylla’s net, of whom Pathfinder deduced was Rubric, tossed it and the sea mammal over his shoulder, prompting a sound of discomfort from Scylla, and a “HEY!” from Path as he protested her treatment.
“Mr. Finder,” Li Min said, finally speaking to the pegasus stallion directly, “I suggest that you not yell at the guards. They get a little testy when the slaves start showing resistance, and will have no issue in disciplining you on the spot if they feel like it. Take this as your first and only warning.”
“But-” Pathfinder tried to interject.
The scaled mare wasn’t hearing it though, and stepped away from Pathfinder before he could cause an argument. “Come along Mr. Finder,” she said as she opened a different door from the one Schorl left out of, allowing the minotaur carrying Scylla to walk out ahead of her, “Unless you would rather forgo the privilege Lady Tourmaline granted you and stay here.”
While Pathfinder of course wanted to stay with Scylla, he wasn’t really given the chance to say yes or no as Demus grabbed him by the mane and lead him to the door by force. Pathfinder, unable to do anything else, stepped quickly to minimize the pull as they left the miserable dungeon and the other poor souls locked within its walls.
Once outside the dungeon, Pathfinder found himself in a brightly lit hallway. The pathway had a marble floor, which had a blue carpet laying atop it that was rolled down it from one end of the hall to the other. The walls themselves had several fineries lined up on them, ranging from extravagant paintings, busts of important historical ponies, and draperies made of fine, obviously expensive, fabrics. It looked like a small fortune was spent on this hallway alone.
He had to take in the grandeur of it all on the go though, as Demus kept shoving him down the walkway to keep up with the others. Pathfinder did want to stay as near to Scylla as possible, but the shoving was not appreciated in the slightest. Thankfully it stopped once he made it aside Li Min, who was trailing about a foot behind.
“We have a moment until we get to the processing room,” Li Min said to Pathfinder as the group walked along, “So I’ll take this time to explain what you are to expect from your stay here.”
“Great…” Path replied, certain that everything she would say was going to be awful.
Li Min ignored his sarcasm, and proceeded, “As you are aware, both you and your daughter have been enslaved. As of the moment you were pulled out of your shipping crate, you were considered property and slave stock of The Society, to be used for the purposes of entertainment until a better use for you comes to light, or you are sold off to one of The Society’s members.”
“Entertainment?” Pathfinder asked.
“The Society is a business, Mr. Finder, one that caters to ponies of unique tastes. Ponies who enjoy seeing others in extreme or unusual forms of bondage, watching the tears flow down the cheeks of a helpless victim as their asses are mercilessly paddled, owning a slave who has been trained to believe that they are inferior to a mare or stallion who holds their leash, or simply raping a pony who cannot fight back against them. I could go on with examples, but I believe you get the picture.”
“Right…” said Path, his level of discomfort rising with each of these examples.
“There are a surprising amount of ponies with these fetishistic desires, and Lady Tourmaline, the founder of The Society and owner of this facility, does whatever she can to fulfill these desires, so long as the pony can pay for such experiences and privileges in one form or another.”
As Li Min went on, it gave Path ample time to look her over a bit more. Just as he had thought, she was covered in scales, with the only visible portions of hair on her body being atop her head. While looking at her head though, he noticed a little more that he hadn’t in his panic earlier. In her mane, almost hidden, were a pair of small, bark colored nubs sticking out. They looked sorta like antlers, small ones that barely popped out of the mare’s skull. That made Li Min’s species even harder to decipher, as all equine races he knew didn’t have such appendages.
Moving downward from there, the pegasus’ gaze locked onto that collar around her neck. He had worn a few collars himself in his time, when he was with Anya, but nothing quite like this one. Getting a better look at it, the neckwear appeared to be custom made to perfectly fit her throat, crafted from a black gemstone of sorts that had been smoothed out so that it had nary a sharp edge upon it. About three fourths the way up it the crystal had a small bump that was hollowed out in the middle to create a small D-loop, one that was unseparated from the collar’s main form, which allowed a golden ring to go through it to create a place to hook a leash. The top and bottom of the collar were trimmed with a similarly golden metal, which did make the collar very attractive to look at, but something about the piece of bondage gear was off.
From where Path was standing, it looked as if the smoothed gemstone wrapped around completely, and had no latched, locks, or hinges to speak of. It was as if it was completely sealed, which would mean that it would be irremovable. Perhaps her mane was just blocking the lock, or perhaps this was the extent that The Society went to prove they owned you. That thought was disheartening, but allowed Pathfinder to learn something; that it appeared Li Min was as much a slave of this evil organization as he and Scylla were now.
“As a slave of the Society,” Pathfinder heard, tuning back into Li Min’s lecture, “You have no rights except those bestowed upon you by your owner, and a promise that no permanent damage will be done to you, however the exact definition of what is considered ‘damage’ is vague. Just assume it means that you won’t be maimed, scarred or otherwise crippled. Beyond that though, your body can be altered to fit your owner’s ideal image for you, and tattoos, piercings, and even brands can be placed upon you so long as they are considered tasteful.”
“Tasteful?” Path had to inquire.
“Lady Tourmaline prefers that all slaves be left presentable to the public, and thus has created a few rules for slave owners to follow to keep them that way, and give a bit of protection to the slaves. For example, an owner is not allowed to brand the word ‘Bitch’ across your forehead, or use a tattoo to cross out or cover up your cutiemark. However, I have seen some owners use tattoos to accentuate an existing cutiemark. Some look quite lovely.”
“I’m sure…” Path said, hoping that his own cutiemark would not be altered in such a way.
“An owner also can’t remove a slaves teeth to prevent biting, or make you blind or deaf because they think it would be amusing. Lastly, under no circumstances is an untimely death of a slave considered acceptable.”
“And what happens if these ‘owners’ break these rules?”
“Then they end up as slaves themselves.” Li Min said bluntly, “And they get to see how it is to be at somepony else’s mercy. Needless to say, no member of The Society is willing to risk that for a cheap thrill.”
“Anything else I should know about this?” Path said with disdain, though actually wanting to know more about his and Scylla’s supposed rights here.
“Only that all aspects of your life are now to be decided by your owner, who is currently Lady Tourmaline herself by default. This includes your appearance, clothing, diet, sleep schedule, hobbies, physical health, sexual preferences, partners, kinks, and breeding.”
“Breeding!?” Path said in shock.
“Yes, should an owner see it fit, they can have you sire offspring. Perhaps you’ll find a mistress who thinks you’re met her physical or mental requirements to be the father of her child.”
“That’s…” Path felt his wings rise a bit a the idea of that. There was something kinda kinky about a woman purchasing you so she could ride your cock and steal your genes. Was that Schorl’s intentions for him? He couldn’t deny that she was an attractive, if incredibly evil, mare, and the thought of having her shimmering crystalline body against his, naked, moving up and down as she… The pegasus had to shake away the flustered feelings of arousal that were starting to overcome him. “There is no way I could do that!” He shouted, his face blushing from the embarrassment of his thoughts.
“We’re here,” Li Min said, paying no heed to his outburst.
Pathfinder looked beyond the minotaur in front of him, and spotted a door blocking their way. This must have been the previously mentioned processing room, so just past it awaited Scylla and his fate.
Without wasting any time, the two minotaur entered the room, taking Scylla with them. Pathfinder tried to follow, but before he could set one hoof inside, a clipboard slapped him hard across his bare chest.
“Ow!” he exclaimed, the impact stinging slightly.
“Before you go in,” Li Min stated, “I would appreciate if you signed the paper I placed at the front.”
Path took the clipboard in hand, and looked at the sheet of writing at the forefront of it. It looked like some sort of document covered in all sorts of legal mumbo jumbo. He never really had much luck deciphering this sort of stuff. If anything, Scylla was the one to do that, as she was the one who usually looked over their business documents to make sure everything was in order.
“What’s this all about?” Path said, scratching his head.
“It’s a contract that pretty much states that you are submitting yourself and your daughter to a life of servitude as slaves.” Li Min answered, “It states all of what I explained on the way here, plus some added information, such as how all property and forms of income you have acquired and will acquire will now belong to your respective owners, and includes a non-disclosure agreement stating that you will not discuss what happens in The Society’s walls with any non-members or non-slaves should you leave this facility.”
“You can’t expect me to actually sign this.” Path protested.
“No,” Li Min replied, “I expect you to fight, and curse, and be as resistant to this process as possible, as does Lady Tourmaline. Before you toss that chart down in disgust though, let me ask you if you think it’s worth the effort.”
“What do you mean?” Path asked, not really understanding the point of this if they didn’t really think he was going to sign it.
“Do you believe that the contract in your hands is in any way a legally binding document? It is filled with illegal actions and things that infringe on the Equestria given rights of ponies. Even if it could be used as a real contract, you are clearly signing it under duress, and thus it would not stand up in a court of law. The only reason that piece of paper exists is so Lady Tourmaline can have something she can put away in a file cabinet, for the sole purpose of pulling it out later and smirking at it because you put your name on it. Your signature on that piece of paper means nothing save for serving as amusement for her.”
“Then why should I sign it?” questioned the pegasus, finding the whole thing even more pointless now.
“Because if you don’t sign it then she will have to find her amusement with you and your daughter elsewhere, and that usually involves long sessions of torturous BDSM play with little restraint made on her part. So ask yourself: Is the denial of her satisfaction really worth the punishment you both will receive down the line?”
Pathfinder looked at the paper again, considering his options, or lack thereof.
“If it helps with your decision, Lady Tourmaline does appreciate obedience, and signing that might even make things easier for the two of you.”
“Right, I get it.” The stallion said, taking a pen from off the clipboard. Finding a line at the bottom, he put his name down on it in cursive. “There, does Scylla have to sign it too?”
“No,” Li Min replied, swiping the clipboard and her pen back from the pegasus, “As her legal guardian, your signature can count for hers too. Now if you would, please step into the room and submit yourself to processing.”
Reluctantly, Pathfinder stepped into the room, ready as he would ever be for this terrible experience to begin.
Li Min stayed in the hall, taking the door and closing it as Pathfinder entered, but not before saying to the pegasus, “Thank you for your cooperation Mr. Finder, and please... enjoy your stay here at The Society.”
Author's Note
Guest OC today is Li Min, who belongs to Trendy Law , and will be acting as Schorl's personal secretary for the remainder of the story. BTW, while I have not explained her species yet, I have tried to describe it the best I could, and I'm wondering if anyone can identify it bsed solely on the description. Feel free to leave a comment below if you feel you've figured it out.
Equestria Trainers' Society: Fish Out of Water
The door closed behind Pathfinder, separating him from the horrific dungeon he had awoken in, and the somewhat less frightening hallway that came after it. He was now in what had been called the “processing room”, and what he saw inside had him looking around, almost stunned in disbelief.
The contrast to what else he had seen in this place was like stepping out of a nightmare and into a dream. The room he had entered looked like a spa, with massage tables, bubbling pools of water, and seats designed for resting ponies as they were pampered with manicures, horn filings, and mane cuts, as well as other such beautifying and relaxing luxuries, were all about this room. If the pegasus didn’t know better, he would have thought the earlier events were all a terrible delusion, and that he had just woken up in the middle of his pre-planned vacation.
What was even more astounding were the creatures attending these stations. Dozens of white-tailed deer, both stags and does, all with small nub-like protrusions on their heads that acted as their antlers, and each busy about tending to ponies that had occupied this room before Scylla and Path’s arrival. Some of these cervids were completely naked, showing their full forms to the world as they went about the task of spa worker, straddling the backs of ponies as they applied pressure to key points of their muscles and spine as the ones under them laid face down on the massage tables. Others wore skimpy pink nurse outfits, stags included, as they took syringes filled with substances unknown to Pathfinder, and injected them into some of the equines, aiming their needles at very sensitive areas around the crotch and rear.
Lastly, there was a singular doe walking around in a white coat, front open with nothing underneath. She was going around and inspecting the progress each deer was making on their… clients, Pathfinder decided to call them, in the attempt to make this seem more pleasant than it probably would be. With that unique look to her, Path assumed that she had some more authority than the others. What that truly meant though, was uncertain, as all of them wore collars around their necks, each of a variety of styles. Making an educated assumption, Path figured the collars weren’t some sort of fashion statement these deer were making, but an indication that they too were enslaved. They looked a little too content with their current situation if that were the case though, with most smiling or giggling as they went about their business.
Their presence also brought to mind one glaring question to Path’s mind: Where did all these deer come from? He knew of the rumors saying there was a small kingdom for deer that lived in the Everfree Forest, but he didn’t believe that the settlement was large enough that so many could go missing without somepony noticing. Surely if there were signs of mass abductions, then somepony like the princess would have been alerted to it. So where did all these deer come from?
Pathfinder was not left to wonder about this at the entrance door for long, as the minotaur named Demus spotting the pegasus dallying, and came over to push him along. Pathfinder quietly complied, allowing the minotaur to guide him in the direction the other minotaur was taking Scylla.
The eventual destination they were led to was a sizable masseuse table, one big enough for two. The table, which had a covering of firm padding atop it like most tables of its type, also had several chained shackles coming out from its center, two sets near the foot of the table and two on the opposite side at the table’s front. It was their presence that made Pathfinder observe the table more thoroughly, and see that there were also large straps on the sides, with two buckles for them placed in the center of the table, to which he assumed they were used to further bind a pony in place.
This discovery caused him to take a second look at the other pieces of furniture around, and lead to him figuring out that all the devices had similar setups to bind their occupants into them. In fact, upon further inspection, he could see that the restraints were being used on all the other ponies there already. It seemed that Schorl was very careful about how she allowed her enslaved ponies to relax, and wasn’t about to risk an escape attempt mid-session.
It gave the otherwise relaxing spa atmosphere an oppressive aura, one that might dishearten those who the chains were meant for, but Pathfinder couldn’t let that happen. Not when Scylla was depending on him to save her. With this many precautions set up against their escape, this was not going to be easy, but the stallion promised to himself that he would find a way.
As Pathfinder scoped the spa for anything that could help he and Scylla with just such an escape plan, the minotaur carrying Scylla decided to set his captive down. Pulling the net that held her back over his shoulder, he raised it above the table and proceeded to drop Scylla down on it. The kelpie let out a meek yelp at the sensation of falling and the sudden stopping a split second later, but aside from being overcome with shock, she was not harmed from the incredibly short plummet.
“Kelpie,” the minotaur said to her, his voice deep and filled with a powerful presence, “I am going to untie you now. As I do, you will stay as still as possible. Do you understand?”
Still gagged from her initial abduction, the aquatic mare gave a whimper and a nod in return.
“Good,” The minotaur replied, reaching for a sizable knife at his side.
The gryphons had tied the netting around Scylla in a heavy knot, and the minotaur had not the patience to undo it. With a careful placement of the blade and a swift swipe of it across the fiber strands, the netting fell down around Scylla, removing one of the many bindings that held the mare.
Scylla felt the absence of the net but continued to hold still for her captor. She was too scared to make any movement, save for short and rapid breaths. The only thing that kept her remotely calm was the thought that her father was close by. She had heard Pathfinder talking to a few women, heard one of them explain to him that they were her property now, while the other explained some sort of rules she was too panicked to understand. Had he not been around, she wouldn’t know what to do except cry, but there was a sense of security felt with the knowledge that he was watching over her.
From behind the blindfold that was formerly her bikini top, Scylla heard the rattling of keys and then felt the chains that had held her wrists and ankles fall off her. “I’m going to remove your gag and blindfold now. You will remain quiet as I do. Understood?” She heard from the unseen male, to which she could only nod again.
The man slipped his large fingers into the straps of fabric, and pulled them from the kelpie’s head, returning to her the ability to both see and speak in one quick motion. With her vision unobstructed, she could see the massive minotaur standing in front of her. Scylla knew that her captor was big from the feel of him as she was carried here, but still, the sight of him towering over her while sitting atop a table no less, was intimidating.
He was a mountain of a creature, with muscles that were chiseled like stone. His biceps alone looked like they could crush iron between them, and his hair covered pectorals had a density to them that few ponies could hope to match. It was clear just by the sight of the beastly bovine that he would have no trouble tearing her in half if he wanted, and that alone gave the kelpie reason to continue obeying his demands, as his fearsome visage and grumpy expressions gave her the notion that he was not one who appreciated misbehavior from his prisoners.
As she stared at the minotaur, fearfully awaiting what was next to come, she heard her father’s voice from beside her, “Scylla,” he called, running to her side and taking her hand in his own, “Are you ok? Did he hurt you?”
“I-I’m fine,” She replied, more startled than physically harmed. This was all so surreal, as being kidnapped was something she thought only happened in stories. Never did she believe that it was something that really happened to ponies. At least not to a pony as insignificant as herself. She was just a mare who ran a counter in a map shop, not a princess or the heiress to some multi-million bit company. Why in Equestria would anypony want to do this to her and Pathfinder?
With Scylla unbound, the bull’s attention shifted. “Xenia!” He yelled, disrupting whatever peaceful atmosphere the room had beforehand.
The booming shout drew the attention of most those in earshot, but of them all, it particularly drew the gaze of the one doe wearing the white coat. At the call of her name, she practically pranced over in excitement.
“Master Rubric,” she said, addressing the minotaur that summoned her, “How may I be of service?”
Scylla and Pathfinder watched curiously as the deer tilted her head downward, spread out her arms, and placed one hoof behind her as she momentarily bent the other leg, giving a short bow of respect to the minotaur.
“This mare here needs to be prepared for tonight’s special event,” The other minotaur spoke up to the deer, “She is to be purified and made beautiful for her future master.”
“Master Demus, pleasure to see you as always,” the deer greeted the other minotaur, turning to him to give the same bow, allowing Scylla and Pathfinder to see that this gesture left the front of the doe completely exposed, and presented her most alluring parts to be on full display from behind her open white coat, “Tonight’s special event?” She then said aloud to herself as she got back on both hooves, “You wouldn’t be talking about-”
“We expect you to work with both haste and quality in mind.” Rubric instructed the doe, “As this is a very special mare intended for a very special purpose.”
Scylla’s eyes widened as she heard this, thoughts running through her mind about what this special purpose was. Were they going to sell her off to some foreign dignitary to be made into one of his harem mares and dance for his amusement? Was she going to be sent to some deep, dark dungeon where her body would be teased and tormented for hours on end, bringing her to the edge of climax over and over again till her spirit breaks? Was she destined to become some common whore, force into addictions to both drugs and sex that would only come at her obedience? Perhaps she had just read too many erotic novellas that featured darker themes, but with all the talk of sexual slavery and how ‘special’ she was, it made her heart race and her body tremble with terror of what would happen if such a story became her reality.
“Understood my masters,” Xenia said with great reverence towards the two bulls, “I shall perform my duty on this young mare with diligence and finesse, as you have come to expect from me…” Pausing for a moment, the deer then turned an eye to Pathfinder, “But what of the pegasus with her?”
“He is her guardian,” Rubric explained, “And the crystal mare has given him special privileges to be by her side during processing. Do with him as you wish, so long as it doesn’t get in the way of the kelpie’s treatment.”
“Will do my masters,” the deer said, flicking her tail a bit in excitement, “I’ll make sure they are both cleaned, ready for use, and made presentable for the Society.”
“Then we leave it to you,” Demus said while beginning to walk off, he only paused a moment when he noticed his associate wasn’t coming along, “Staying here to watch the show?”
“No, I want to get ready for tonight’s event the same as you do.” Rebric replied.
“Then get a move on. You know how these things work.”
As Demus left his fellow minotaur, Rubric stayed behind for a moment longer to look over the kelpie. He tilted his head a few times, viewing her body at every angle he could without moving from spot. It made Scylla very self-conscious, and reminded her that her body was actually devoid of coverings. Instinctually, she covered herself to hide her private areas, an arm going over her breasts while she cupped her crotch.
The minotaur, noticing her shyness, reached out to her. “Don’t you dare touch her!” Pathfinder yelled at the much larger male, to which the pegasus was met by a hand that gripped his muzzle to silence him.
With Pathfinder held in place by his mouth, the minotaur continued his advance on the aquatic mare unhindered. Scylla recoiled slightly, but not enough to avoid the minotaur’s hand. The bull placed his hand under the kelpie’s chin, squeezing firmly enough to force a slightly pained wince from the girl. With her held, he went on to turn her head left and right, twisting it with his immense strength so he could get a better look at her features.
Scylla did her best to comply with his movements, as the less resistance she gave the less it hurt, and eventually was let free from the grip entirely when the bull had become satisfied. “You are a very pretty mare.” Rubric said bluntly, “Your future master will be very happy to have you wearing his collar.”
“Umm… thank you?” Scylla replied, a bit confused about this odd compliment given to her.
Still, it seemed to please the minotaur that she acknowledges it, and he broke what was up until now a generally stoic expression to give her a smirk. “You’ll do just fine here.” With those final words, the minotaur released Pathfinder’s snout and left the two ponies relatively alone with Xenia.
“I think he likes you.” said the deer with a smile, and a bit of a song in her voice.
“He could like us a little less…” Pathfinder said, rubbing his nose.
“Oh don’t give their roughhousing any mind. Minotaurs just like asserting their dominance on the ‘weaker races’,” Xenia said, dismissing the earlier event, “But as interesting as their cultural practices are, I’m more interested in you at the moment.” Just like that, the deer woman took the minotaur’s role in invading Scylla’s personal space, placing her hands on the massage table so she could lean over it into the kelpie. “Your skin is so smooth and hairless. I have never seen anything like this on a sentient being before.”
“Sen… ti… ent?” Scylla asked, unfamiliar with the word the strange doe rubbing against her body had said.
“Capable of thought,” Pathfinder clarified in the simplest terms he could think of, not wishing to cause further confusion for his daughter in this already weird situation.
Placing an explorative hand on Scylla’s body, the deer proceeded to say, “I was led to believe in my interactions with other species that only creatures with fur or scales had evolved to recognize speech patterns, but save for your mane you don’t have either over an inch of your body.” Xenia's hand traveled to the lower half of Scylla’s body and slid between her thighs. “Must be nice to have naturally hairless and smooth skin down here.”
It took a moment for Scylla to register that the deer was touching her labia, but when she did the kelpie scooted across the table she sat upon as quickly as her rump would let her, squeaking out a small sound of discomfort as pull away from the cervine female.
Xenia held up her hands in response to the kelpie’s actions, saying “It’s ok, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m a doctor.”
“You are?” Scylla asked curiously.
“Of course she isn’t,” Pathfinder stated, “She’s just saying that so she can fondle you.”
“No, no,” The deer woman said to dismiss Path’s claim, waving her hand about as if it would push away his words, “I really am a doctor, or perhaps ‘scientist’ is a better word. I know a lot about equine anatomy, and you’re not too removed from a standard pony.”
The insistence of being a scientist was a bit fishy to Pathfinder, as the rumors he had heard spoke of deer being fairly druidic, attuned with nature more than things he associated science with, like complex machines and medicines. Then again, he might have just been overgeneralizing things.
“Now that we have that cleared up,” The deer proceeded to say, “Do you two mind if we get started with the kelpie’s processing?”
“And if we refuse?” Path had to ask, lest he failed at his role as Scylla’s protector.
“Then I have to go get a few of the minotaur masters, they give both your flanks a good paddling, and then you get chained down so we can process you without any further problems. I would rather you just go along to save time, effort, and pain, but if you really want to resist…”
Path could see a worried look growing on Scylla’s face from the deer’s blunt statement of the events that would follow if he tried to fight this, and decided that it wasn’t worth it if it only led to more harm for his daughter.
“Fine, what do we have to do?” he reluctantly said in compliance.
“You don’t have to do anything but watch,” Xenia said, “But the kelpie needs to lay face down on the table and stay as still as possible.”
“Oh no,” Path objected, climbing onto the table himself, “I’m not letting you put her through this while I stand idly by. Anything you do to her, you can do to me too.”
“Dad, you don’t…” Scylla tried to say as Path got into place, she herself repositioning her body so her front half laid flat across the table top.
“I wouldn’t tell you to do anything I wouldn’t do myself, and I refuse to make you suffer this alone.” Pathfinder said sternly, showing no fear of what was to come.
Scylla saw the resolve on her caregiver’s face, and she began to feel her own fear melt away as well, as Pathfinder had hoped it would. Within seconds the father-daughter pair were laying side by side, nude, fronts down, with their privates hidden from each other’s view by the table they now laid upon.
They had both expected the deer to begin with whatever it was she had in store for them, but the deer had plans of her own. Now in position, their bodies lined up aside each other, the deer took the opportunity to take their two pony rumps into her grasp. The two ponies jumped slightly as their rear ends were slapped by the doe, each on the cheek furthest from the other, before the two lumps of butt fat were squeezed to the point of making deep indents around the deer’s fingers. It didn’t stop there either, as Xenia proceeded to place her head between the now shocked and surprised ponies, only to pull them both closer to one another until the innermost cheeks were pressed against her face.
“Such plump pony patoots.” Xenia declared, rubbing herself up and down against the bare bottoms, making sounds of clear enjoyment as she did.
While the doe was deriving great pleasure from this lewd act of ass worship, the objects of her affection were less than pleased, with Path himself being so bold as saying, “Ahem, excuse me.” to her in a fairly annoyed tone.
“Is something the matter?” Xenia asked, pressing her face more into Path’s ass, and going so far as to lick his cutie mark in one excruciatingly long slurp that traveled from one end of it to the other.
Path quivered at the warm wetness felt across his backside, a feeling that pleased his flesh while bothering his mind. “Is this part of our ‘processing’?!”
“Not at all,” Xenia replied with pure honesty, “This is just a little fun before we get started.” Having said that, the deer lifted her head slightly and placed the end of her muzzle at the base of his tail.
“What are you doing n-EH!” Path asked, ending his sentence with a yelp. That yelp then turned to an inward sucking of air through clenched teeth, as the pegasus stallion’s back arched against his will, and his wings likewise turned traitorous by extending to a full spread.
“Did you like that?” Xenia asked, nibbling down lightly at the exact spot where Path’s tailbone entered his rear. “It has been my experience that ponies love having their little crevices toyed with. Around the tail, behind the ears, the spaces around the neck.”
Pathfinder said nothing in return and stuck with sucking and blowing air through his teeth. He knew that if he tried to speak a word, he would only let loose a moan, and he wasn’t about to let Scylla see him forced into pleasure like this.
“And what of the kelpie?” said Xenia, turning her attentions to the sea mammalon the other side of her, “Are you as sensitive there as this pegasus?”
Xenia released Scylla’s buns, and instead took hold of her thick, dolphin-like tail. Just as she did with the kelpie’s father, she attacked the bend of flesh that connected the appendage to the rest of her body.
“EEEEEPP!” Scylla squealed out at the mere touch of the teeth, and quickly pressed her face into the padding beneath her to brace against the surge of unwanted feelings shooting through her. Unlike Pathfinder, she didn’t have the benefit of a layer of fur to defend against the sensations.
“Ooh hoo,” Xenia said as she observed Scylla’s reactions. Not only her verbal response, but the rest of her body as well. Specifically how her tail had taken to flicking about. The mass of muscles was trying to break free from the doe’s grip, actually managing to do so a few times until Xenia reaffirmed her grip. “That is amazing. It’s like your hairless flesh is even more sensitive to touching.”
The doe wasn’t too far off from the truth. Despite her skin being thick and rubbery, the lack of fur pretty much evened out the sensitivity of it. However, she wasn’t flailing about because of a weakness of the flesh, but a weakness of her tail. That part of her body had always been a soft spot for her, and she had to be very careful with it when not in the water. She had always assumed that it had to be that way, that it helped her better locate things while swimming, but right now it was not helping her out as she was being violated.
This only worsened when the doe decided to experiment with this further, and test the tail’s reactions to their limits. With a press of her tongue at the start of its base, Xenia went along the tail’s length as far as she could get it in a single motion. Lightning shot through her as nerves connected directly from the tail to her spine came to life, and zipped as quickly as they could to her brain. Scylla couldn’t help but scream from the intensity of it,
“Brilliant!” Xenia exclaimed, truly enraptured by the pure pleasure the mare was displaying. She was so pleased by this that she gave the tail a few more quick licks, receiving a new scream from Scylla as a reward for each one.
The squeals and screams from Scylla did not go unnoticed, and Pathfinder spotted several of the deer in the area turning their head in their direction. Some of the ones who weren’t busy with other ponies even came over to get a better look at the odd-looking pony making the most delightful sounds.
“Who is this?” asked a stag, placing a hand on Scylla’s body without qualm, showing great interest in this pony who’s breed he had never encountered before.
Xenia stopped taking in the kelpie’s flavor long enough to reply to her associate. “She is a special guest who will be attending tonight’s event.”
“Really?!” A doe said, clearly excited about whatever that meant, “Then can we join in with her processing?”
“I suppose it is time I stopped having fun and actually got to work.” Looking over to the group crowding around them, giving a pout to her fellow deer, “But you know there aren’t enough positions here for everyone.”
The herd around them let out a joined groan of disappointment, knowing that some of them were not going to be allowed the chance to spend time with this new, interesting slave mare.
“Now, now, we must remember,” Xenia stated, picking herself up from the table she had been leaning over, “We don’t do this for our own satisfaction. We do this in service to the masters, so they may flourish and prosper.”
The deer all gave murmurs of agreement, but it was still obvious that they were upset with the situation.
“Now then, for the kelpie I’ll take… you, you, you, and you.” Xenia said, pointing to four stags in rapid succession. The rest let out a chorus of ‘Awww’s, and started to drift back to other parts of the spa room. That was until Xenia said, “And as for the pegasus next to her…” The deer all span back to face the doe, who was already pointing at four other does she wanted for the task. “You can join us.”
The herd dispersed once more, though with four fewer members as the chosen triumphantly skipped over to join with the stags and form a small team.
With her subordinates assembled, Xenia began giving out orders, “This will be a routine processing procedure for the girl. However, the pegasus has requested that he receive everything she does, so make sure to do your best to respect his wishes.”
Pathfinder rolled his eyes hearing this, having long since recovered from the niblings at his tail bone. This deer didn’t care that his wishes were respected, she just saw it as another reason to molest the two of them. She was just as perverse as the creatures she called masters, the crystal mare and the minotaur that worked under her, along with whoever else was part of this so called ‘Society’. He also had no reason to assume the other deer were any different, seeing their enthusiasm towards the idea of joining in on this violation.
“Two of you tend to their bodies,” Xenia instructed, “Two of you attend to their pleasure, and two make sure they are presentable. The last of you can make sure they are well fed. Who knows how long they’ve gone without eating in their travels. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Like a well trained unit, the eight deer broke off and went to their tasks, none of them stumbling over one another as they graceful and non-verbally separated the tasks given to them. As if a mirror image of one another, the does and the stags went to the pony of opposite gender, with one from each team climbing up on the massage table, and two others taking Xenia’s place at their back ends.
The other four rushed off to retrieve items to help with the tasks they were charged with, the ones taking up the job of readying their appearances grabbing small kits filled with makeup and hoof polish, leaving the other two to gather up a food from a buffet table that had been set up in the center of the room.
While this all happened around them, Pathfinder was trying to keep track of what each of the deer were doing, and if they were trying to pull some sort of trick during this, but understood well that there was little reason they had to do something underhanded or sneaky when he and Scylla were at their mercy. When turning an eye to the ones going for food though, the doe that climbed the table next to him decided to climb over the pegasus’ body, and straddled his back between her legs.
Pathfinder gave a small “Oof” as she applied her weight down on his spine, though she was dainty enough that she didn’t actually hurt him. Positioned as she was though, Pathfinder could feel her bare pussy press up against him. Looking to Scylla, she likewise had a stag on top of her, pinning her down with the weight of his upper body, though likewise in a manner that didn’t appear to cause harm to her.
“Now relax you two.” The stag said, leaning forward to place his palms on Scylla’s shoulder blades.
The doe atop Pathfinder did the same, and finished her partner’s line by adding, “And let us do all the work.”
The two deer got to task, and began rubbing the ponies down with their palms. Path, still very apprehensive to this whole ordeal, didn’t exactly follow the instruction given to him to relax at first, but he couldn’t help but give in to how good the rubbing felt compared to all of his previous treatment. He had been very stiff after being crammed in that crate, and the manhandling from that one minotaur hadn’t helped either. As much as he hated to admit it, this was somewhat pleasant, even if the doe had a habit of moving her body so that her mound rubbed across his fur.
“Here you go!” Another doe said as she came aside him, laying down a bottle on the table that the deer on his back quickly snatched up, turned upside down, and squirted the contents of it onto Pathfinder’s back.
Path couldn’t see what it was exactly, but it felt warm and liquidy, though a little thick. As the deer on him rubbed it in, he couldn’t help but feel more and more relaxed, and found that Scylla was also taking this all much better than she probably should, having closed her eyes so she could take in the feeling of her stag masseuse's hands tenderizing her flesh.
The pegasus felt like he could have done the same, until the doe that had delivered the bottle took his wing in hand and stretched it out. This woke him back up real quick, and for once he took his watchful eye away from Scylla.
“Are you enjoying your oil rub?” The doe aside the table asked, his wing in one hand and a brush in the other. The question was somewhat rhetorical though, and before Path could answer, she placed her tool down on his feathers, cautiously brushing his feathers so not to ruffle them.
While not as good as dedicated preening, the brush did help enhance the sensations he was already feeling. Being pampered like this felt undoubtedly wonderful to his body, no matter how much unease it put on his mind. All and all, this small slice of an overall terrible experience was… pleasant, and had none of the other upsetting things involved with it had happened, Pathfinder could even see himself enjoying it.
That is, he could have said that until he felt a pair of hands grab hold of his rump again. This time on both cheeks, forcing the two rounded body parts as far apart from one another as they would go. “What a spreadable rear you have.” A third doe said from behind.
Scylla squealed aloud next to him, and Path knew that she was likewise being handled in such a lewd manner, with everything between her legs exposed to some guy neither of them knew. This was where his patience for this ended, but of course there was little he could do about it. He didn’t have to enjoy it though, which was what he was now set to do, and he took to grumbling aloud as he was groped at all ends.
The deer all noted his apparent annoyance, but his sentiments didn’t matter to them one bit, least of all to the doe that had his ass held in her palms. She was far too busy with other things to pay heed to his considers, like diving her face into Path’s privates. How the pegasus jumped when he felt her mouth wrap around his cock, which had never yet had the chance to resheath itself since Schorl made it come out from its home. At best his cock had reverted to a state of semi erectness, but that quickly changed back to a solid mass of pony meat when the doe surrounded it in the warmth of her breath, and the wetness of her tongue.
And as expected, the stag behind Scylla followed the actions of his female partner, pressing his own muzzle into her unwanting slit so he could join in on orally satisfying his charge. He started by gliding his tongue over her vulnerable lower lips, getting the entirety of her crotch significantly moist in his saliva. Once satisfied with his work, he pushed his tongue into more forbidden territory, entering it into the kelpie’s hole without so much as a word of warning.
Scylla made the most adorable sounds of protest as he wriggled his tongue about inside her, but of course where her mouth said ‘no’, her body whispered ‘yes’ by giving a series of gentle spasms from her honey pot, which had taken to spilling out some of the syrupy nectar it held within. The stag was more than happy to help with this overflow of fluids though, and took to slurping it up in a very loud, and fairly obnoxious way, as if he wanted to make sure to the kelpie that he was not only making her juices flow, but was savoring the taste of it as well.
The sexual attention from the two deer tonguing their privates made the two ponies squirm, grunt, and groan as they both did their best to deny the pleasure building in them, but the other deer just laughed at their attempts. They knew well that there was no refusing the wants of the flesh, and that given time the ponies would beg for this kind of treatment. That was how most ponies ended up after being trained anyways, and they didn’t believe either of these two to be particularly strong of will.
The buck dealing with Scylla’s grooming even had a plan to further intensify her pleasure, and taking a wet rag he had been using to wash down her body as his counterpart brushed Path’s wings, he went down to her tail and started rubbing it vigorously.
“NOOOO!!!” Scylla yelled, her sensitive tail once more at the end of an assault of sensations. The stag had no clue how delicate one had to be when touching her tail, and how much care had to be taken so not to cause her to- “AAAAAHHHHH!!!” She screamed again, having tried to bottle up her emotions and failed.
“Oh wow!” She heard come from behind her, having a good idea what had happened, her face already trying to match the color of her mane because of it. “This one is a gusher. I almost drowned back here.”
“Oooooooo…” Scylla groaned, crossing her arms in front of her so she could bury her face into them. She was mortified, having been forced into orgasm by a bunch of random guys. While she was far from a virgin, she never considered herself anything like a slut or a whore, but these deer males certainly were making her feel like it now. Considering herself now ‘less pure’, she lamented over the idea that no stallion would ever want to marry her now that she had been tarnished, which was a somewhat silly thing to focus on, seeing as the Society had much worse things than an involuntary orgasm in store for the girl.
Pathfinder, having to watch Scylla lament while he received a mere tail brushing from his doe attendant, could not stay quiet over this defilement. “Hey you,” He said sternly to the stag wiping down his daughter’s tail, “Do you mind leaving that part of her alone?”
“Sorry sir, but Lady Tourmaline likes the slaves to be nice and clean.” The stag answered, too preoccupied with the thick, fidgeting tail in his hands to give Path so much of a look.
“It’s clean…” Scylla moaned out from behind her arms, each additional rub causing her entire body to flinch, the small pleasurable pulses reminding her of her recent shame, “Its cllleeeaaannn.”
“You heard her,” Path added, “I think she would know when her own tail is dirty.”
The cleaning stag sighed, and released the appendage. “Very well, then I suppose it is time to apply some make up.”
That announcement made Pathfinder feel a bit better, happy enough with the notion that the stag wouldn’t be molesting Scylla any more, even if there was another one cleaning another sensitive part of her body in an even lewder way. The point was to make this all as easy on her as possible, and thus any small victory was a plus.
“Sorry for the wait,” Pathfinder suddenly heard from in front of him. It was the doe tasked with feeding him, finally rejoining with her peers. She, and the stag that shared her duties, had returned with a pair of plates bearing many fruits upon them. Grapes, apples, cut bananas, and much more, all held before the two ponies’ faces as the servile cervines knelt down in front of them. “Please, feel free to eat anything and everything that pleases your palate.”
Path was indeed hungry, but he had no reason to trust any of the food given to him in a place like this. The crystal mare could have done something to it, drugged it with something to make his will more malleable. Later he might have to eat out of necessity, but he wanted to refrain from doing so until he absolutely had no other choice.
“AHMPH!”
Before Path had so much as a chance to decline the offer though, the sounds of chewing and gulping hit his ears, and seeing how well things were going for him, he had little doubt as to what was going on just a few inches away. A slight turn of his head allowed the image of a certain red haired kelpie to enter his field of vision, as well as the strangely purple peach she had already halfway devoured.
She must’ve seen the food as a way to bury her embarrassment, or at least that is what Pathfinder assumed watching her gulp down that ripened peach and move on to a couple of pear slices without taking a breath in between the two. Perhaps she was just hungry though, and was putting no thought into where she was like the pegasus was. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter much now that she had swallowed some of the presented snacks. Either they were drugged, and thus she would feel the effects of it once it got into her system, or they were harmless and Pathfinder was worrying about nothing. With things being how they turned out, Path honestly hoped he was wrong about this particular hunch.
That really was all Pathfinder could hope for, seeing as all control of his life had been seemingly stripped from him. What more could he do but lay there and let the deer finish what they were going to do to him? He hated to think it, but he had no options otherwise. He couldn’t fight, not if one of those minotaur decided to join in and subdue him. He couldn’t fly away, the facility he was in being confined and enclosed. Even if he could get away, they had Scylla as a hostage, and as much as Path trusted his daughter, he didn’t believe that she would be able to keep up with him should he figure out some daring method of escape. This was going to be a difficult situation to work their way out of, if it was possible to do that at all.
Shutting his eyes, Path went through his thoughts, tracing his steps he made since the dungeon, and try to work things out. Unfortunately, all he could think about was how after this he and Scylla would be dragged deeper into the facility, which would surely make escape that much more difficult.
Focused as he was on the idea of leaving this horrid place, Pathfinder barely paid any mind to all the things happening to him. He gave a few grunts whenever the doe on his back pressed down harder to get the kinks out of his muscles, or when the one at his crotch made a long lick along his shaft, but otherwise he wanted to be alone with his thoughts. He only left an ear open for Scylla in case she became distressed again.
But for now she seemed to be content with the distraction the food tray provided. Because of this, he paid no mind when he felt something brush up against his face, the object lightly touching his cheeks first, then going over both his eyelids. He thought nothing of it though, at most understanding that the less fuss he made, the less time it would take for the deer women to finish. He kept this mentality when he felt the first object go away, and a much smaller object touched his eyelashes, running across them several times, believing that ignoring this change of tool bore no consequence. It was only when he felt a slick sensation run over his lips, leaving behind a greasy residue along its path, that the pegasus grew suspicious of what was going on.
His eyelids burst open as if his relaxation was disrupted by the sound of shattering glass, though the only thing that had broke was whatever small semblance of security that he assumed he had in this room. He was not surprised at all by what the doe was doing to him, but incredibly discomforted that what he thought was happening to him was actually happening.
The doe had been applying makeup on him, starting with blush, and ending with lipstick, with an application of mascara and eye shadow in between. “What the hay?!” He yelled as he watch the red stick of oils and wax pass by his field of vision, the doe having just finished. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
Placing a cap on the makeup tube, the deer answered Pathfinder by saying, “You requested everything that happened to the kelpie to happen to you, did you not?”
Path turned his head to Scylla, and she had indeed been given an application of makeup as well. Her cheeks had a tint of red over them, though not all of it was because of makeup. Her eyelids were a deep blue, and her lips a deep crimson. He hated to think it, but it really made Scylla look like a cheap hooker, and further made him wonder if that was accidental or not.
As terrible as that was though, it only acted as a minor distraction from his own makeover, Path couldn’t see himself, but he had no reason to believe he fared any better than his daughter. Instinctively, he moved his arm across the front of his muzzle.
“Awww…” the makeup girl bemoaned, her work ruined in a single action.
“Don’t you ‘Awww’ me!” Path said angrily as he smeared off the blush on his cheeks, “You should know better than to do that to a guy!”
“But you looked so good with it on.,,” The doe said, grabbing a hand mirror. She presented it in front of Path, hoping that his reflection would prevent the pegasus from messing up more of her efforts.
It had quite the opposite reaction though, as Pathfinder despised how good a job she had done. Even smeared as it was, Pathfinder found it hard to associate the mental image he had of himself with the pretty mare in the glass. There was no question of the doe’s talent, as she had done a stellar job prettying up Path, especially when compared to the stag who had done up Scylla. That only made matters worse though, as the superior skills of the deer woman damaged Pathfinder’s already sensitive views of his own masculinity. Removing the stuff she put on his face wasn’t a matter of preference, but a compulsion to rid himself of this incredibly convincing girlish appearance.
“Is there a problem over here?” said Xenia from behind the two ponies, having snuck back to the tables from wherever she had been all this time. On her return though, Xenia was met with the pegasus squirming much more than she would have liked.
“The stallion didn’t like the makeover I gave him.” The doe explained, saddened by Pathfinder’s reaction.
“I’m not wearing makeup.” Path exclaimed, making it clear by his tone that it was the presence of the makeup itself that was his issue, and not anything to do with the quality of the doe’s work. If he could have, he would have expressed his displeasure to Xenia’s face, but he still had another doe on his back keeping him where he was.
“Fine,” Xenia said nonchalantly, “No one said you had to. If anything, it was your own want to share the kelpie’s experience that brought this on.”
“Oh...“ Hearing that calmed Pathfinder down a little, the stallion glad to know that he was not mandated to look like a girl.
“And what about you?” Xenia said, tapping the back of Scylla’s thigh, “Anything making you especially uncomfortable?”
“N-no… I’m fine… I think…” Scylla answered, not nearly as brave enough to complain to her captors like her father had.
“Good, then we’ll get the pegasus a wet rag, and everypony will be happy.”
“Happy is an overstatement,” Pathfinder replied, “We’re still being forced to do this.”
“Yes, yes, I understand your stance on the situation, but you seem to misunderstand ours.” Xenia said keeping her casual, almost uncaring tone, “It’s not like we want you to be here, or to make you miserable. We are just doing our jobs as slaves. If we didn’t do what we were told, we would just be punished for misbehavior and you would have to endure a less hospitable form of processing. I’m not saying that we’re doing you any favors with this, but if we don’t go out of our way to complicate things for one another, then neither of us need to suffer more than need be.”
Path had to admit, that was a rather level headed approach to this, though still not ideal. Also that he hadn’t really been thinking of these deer, who he had acknowledged as slaves themselves, to be a separate entity from those who had forced him and Scylla into this in the first place.
“I just wish you all weren’t so chipper about us being glammed up so a bunch of arrogant ponies can bid over our bodies.” he grumbled as the doe that applied his makeup unhappily cleaned it off.
“We all cope with this ordeal our own ways,” Xenia answered, “And me and my kin have decided it is best to at least act like we are enjoying this. If we didn’t at least try to appear happy, then we’d always be sad.”
“That sounds terrible…” Scylla commented.
“Perhaps, but always being miserable and depressed is much worse. Not to mention, it makes you a target for the more sadistic members of The Society. Some here would like nothing more than to make somepony’s bad situation even worse.”
“Okay,” Pathfinder said, now understanding exactly what was going on with these deer, “Sorry for being so hostile.”
“No need to apologize,” said Xenai, “You’ve been much more compliant than some others that come in here. A third of the time one of us get a fist or hoof when trying to do this. Another third tries to make a break for it, and we get in trouble for not stopping them.”
“That explains the chains…” Path said, remembering that there were several sets attached to the very table he was laying on.
“And really, it’s me who should be apologizing.” Xenia continued on to say.
“For what?” asked Scylla.
“For this.” Taking the moment of surprise that came from her announcement, the deer woman stuck a pair of syringes into the prone ponies.
Equestria Trainers' Society: Fish Out of Water
Author's Note
Hey there everyone, Schorl here. It's been a while, but here is a new chapter for you all to enjoy. Be forewarned though, this chapter is a bit of an introduction to this story's cast of main characters, thus is focused on giving a general description to each of them, as well as beginning to present the real meat of what this story will be about. While the new characters are mostly donated OCs, I would hope they would be just as interesting as any other characters you might wish to see in their place. That said, I would understand to some degree if you wanted to skip a bunch of character introductions, thus why I left this warning.
Anyways, enjoy the chapter, and have a nice day!
Elementary Introduction
Scylla stepped unevenly, guided down a hallway by her minotaur captor. They were heading to a door that would have taken a mere minute to reach under normal circumstances, but was taking twice as long in her current condition. The kelpie couldn’t help it. Her balance was being thrown off for a number of reasons: the drugs in her, the fact she hadn’t stood on her hooves since her arrival to the Society, and the ache in her ass for being stuffed full with her guide’s massive penis. She still couldn’t believe that her tight rump was able to swallow his bullhood as it had, but the soreness inside her made sure she understood that it had happened.
However, all those issues didn’t compare to the ever growing fire forming in her loins. Scylla had felt horny before, turned on by some random hunky stallion, or brought to arousal by a popular colt band, but never before had she felt an unbearable heat like this. Each step seemed as if it intensified the feeling, creating jolts of want that filled her saturated vaginal passage. While she had noticed this feeling before on the table, it was so small it was negligible. With her moving and getting her blood pumping thoroughly, the strength of this urge was un-ignorable.
All this made for a very complicated trek for the kelpie, causing her to stumble and flinch each time a spark of desire entered her brain. If not for the minotaur hand around her neck holding her up and pushing her forward, she would have fallen to the floor. Scylla didn’t find the pot bellied bovine all that helpful, as his manhandling not only aggravated the heat she felt inside, but at times his fingers would squeeze too tightly, making it hard for her to breath. Whether or not this was intentional, she could only assume, and seeing how this bull had treated her thus far, she wasn’t exactly willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“It’s a real shame…” said the minotaur, giving Scylla another push to keep her pace steady.
The kelpie believed that he wanted her to respond, but she remained silent, having nothing to say to the creature who had raped her. Sensing her stubbornness, the minotaur made her walk in front of him, and sent a solid smack to her rear.
As Scylla jumped forward from the sting of the spank, the minotaur proceeded to talk aloud. “To think that a cute mare like you will go to someone other than myself, it’s a real shame. If I were your master, I’d train your body to enjoy everything I did to you.” Pulling Scylla back to him, the fat minotaur pressed his snout into her mane, inhaling so powerfully that the mare could feel several strands of her mane getting sucked into his nostrils. “Haaah… Think of it, my teeth around your tits, forcing milk to shoot out as I bite down. The sting of straps from a flail licking across those soft folds between your legs. The burn of a brand upon that hairless ass of yours. There is sooo much I could do to you, so much I can make you love.”
Scylla’s mind froze with terror. The minotaur was talking about things beyond just sex and rape. What he was describing was torture, plain and simple. Even more, he was getting some sort of sexual thrill out of describing these acts to her. She had heard of such people before, those who took joy from hurting others, but never in reality. Only in works of fiction, in her erotic novels, had she ever seen this behavior. Men and women alike reveling in the act of sadism, like a rich mare forcing a young stallion into her servitude because of a father’s debt, or a pegasus guard interrogating a naked hippogryph spy in the dungeons of some fictional castle.
But as strangely arousing as such scenarios were in written word, and titillating she found it to picture herself at the mercy of a person who wanted to ravage her. when met face to face with a real sadist, Scylla felt nothing but fear and helplessness now that the once impossible fantasy became possible. The panic building inside her was enough to drown out everything else, including the fiery desire that had been building inside her.
Not that the minotaur was going to take her terror into any kind of consideration though. He had his own plans for her, or rather, someone else did. Odds were, he would have very little interaction with Scylla after they reached the end of the hallway. Such a lost opportunity was a terrible shame. However, things were not yet decided, and he could still hope that luck would would allow for he and this special mare to have a more intimate relationship.
The minotaur ended his short break, and moved forward again, his ward having to move with him so she wasn’t dragged along. The distance to their destination rapidly approached, the door coming within reach much faster than Scylla wanted. Then again, she was hoping that she would never have to go through that door, and see what awaited her inside. As the bull had said before, her soon to be master was in there, and there was no room in her mind to believe that her violation wouldn’t continue the moment she was handed off to him. All the want in the world wasn’t going to stop her from going through that door though, and the fat bull wasted no time opening it and ushering her into the next room the second his hand could touch the minotaur sized knob on the structure.
Once shoved past the door’s threshold, Scylla could see what laid behind it, and what it was destroyed any hope she had. She was now in a large circular room, one the size of a small auditorium, with the walls covered in rows of large, step shaped slabs of concrete that her far to big for a pony to scale without using their arms. These weren’t steps, but a set of stone benches, crafted specifically for one species in mind, which Scylla understood quickly seeing that that the seating arrangements were packed nearly to capacity by... them.
Minotaur, dozens of them. More than Scylla’s actively frightened mind cared to count, but there had to at least be a hundred of them, waiting, relaxing, talking to one another, some even looking in the direction of the kelpie. Scylla felt her knees buckle a little at this revelation, her ignited imagination not letting her think for a second that this were some mistake, or that she and her guide were just passing through some sort of minotaur break room. The set up was too grandiose for that, especially since there were a few other things in the room that gave the setting a sense of significance.
In the center of the room, sitting squarely in the middle of the stone steps within a circular clearing in this likewise rounded room, was a altar of some kind. The altar was mushroom shaped, slim at the bottom and big on the top. The top part had six metal rectangular slabs set atop its exterior at a diagonal angle, making the mushroom shape more apparent. Each of these slabs had on them a set of shackles that dangled down from the top, two leather straps bolted into the middle of the slabs, a third much larger strap right below and centered between those straps, and two large hand holds placed at the sides of metal rectangles welded into the inner area of the mushroom alter. As impressive as the altar was, it was not the only thing of note in the room, as behind it, right across from the door Scylla had entered from, was a wall made of some sort of black crystal, dividing the two halves of the chamber. Aside from being different from anything else in the room, it was a rather large structure that served no purpose other than decoration, but something about it felt ominous to Scylla. Something about that dark rock made the kelpie feel like she were being watched, like the stone itself was watching her.
As Scylla stood there, terrified and confused, a stag that had been standing by the door addressed the minotaur holding her. “Ah, Master Jupiter, You’ve arrived with the final element I see.” the stag said, giving the same open armed bow as Xenia did in the spa room.
The stag, like most of the other deer Scylla had seen so far, wore nothing but a collar and a smile. Not that she truly noticed, being too distracted by everything else going on around her. The minotaur holding her had been expecting him though, and as the deer stepped forward, he loosened his grip.
“I hope you’re not trying to say something serf,” said the minotaur as he released the kelpie into the stags care, “If I’m not on time, then you should know that it’s the slave’s fault.”
“Of course not Master Jupiter.” the deer agreed, “And I would never assume otherwise of a mighty minotaur, I assure you.”
The fat minotaur snorted in a huff, seemingly indignant about the deer male’s very existence. Nonetheless, he left the care of the kelpie in the hands of this buck, and joined his fellow bovines on the stone seats.
As the bull walked away, the deer closed the door the massive male had left open in his hurry. “Theeeere we... go!” he said as he exerted a deal of effort on the door made for a much larger creature than himself. Finishing that task, he returned to the kelpie, and introduced himself proper to her. With a wave of his hand in front of her eyes, he broke her fixation on the rest of the room. “Hello there, and allow me to welcome you to the family.”
“What?” Scylla answered, still lost in what was happening around her, “Family? What are you talking about?”
“Forgive my terminology. We Antlertian consider all slaves of minotaur to be part of our family.”
The deer’s words confirmed Scylla’s fears. She wasn’t going to be a given to another pony, but to a minotaur. She despised the thought that she would have to act as a slave to one of them, having been given a poor opinion of the lot of them by the few she had already encountered. What could she do about it though? She couldn’t fight, she couldn’t run, and she couldn’t depend on anypony else to save her from this. All she could do was go along with whatever they had planned for her, else they might punish her for trying to resist.
“But let’s move past that for now. I need to give you something before the ritual started, and master Jupiter did take a while getting you here.” The deer went over to a hook near the door, and retrieved from it a white strap of thick leather. The kelpie, still consumed by her own thoughts, didn’t even notice this until the deer was already wrapping it around her throat. “Chin up please.”
Scylla did as she was requested without considering what the deer was doing to her, and as she rose her head, he brought the two ends of the strap together. The two ends had attached to them a pair of clasps, one sliding into the other with incredible ease, making a loud “Snap” sound as hooks fell into place. As if that weren’t enough, the deer then took a key that had accompanied the piece of leather, and slipped it into a hole in the clasp. With a twist, several devices within closed around the inserted parts of the conjoined clasps, trapping them inside for as long as these additional parts were in place. With this done, and the key removed, only one who had the key could remove the collar from this point on.
With the collar now firmly in place, Scylla couldn’t help but touch it. It was a little tight against her skin. Not so much that it interfered with her breathing, but enough that the thick leather was un-ignorable, an ever present thing on her person that would remind her of what her status was in the eyes of her captors. Continued exploration of the object revealed to the kelpie that the band was smooth, lacking almost any discerning marks or features, save for one.
On the front of it, embedded in the leather itself, was a symbol of some sort. Scylla, having been distracted, was unable to see this when her collar was being put on, but by touch she could feel that it was a gemstone, of what kind she couldn’t discern, with a smaller circle cut into it about a half a centimeter in that traced the outer section of the stone. The etching also had connected to it several wavy lines that headed towards the center, meeting there to join as one. Lastly, the three segmented sections in the gem the lines created had a single dot each put into them. If the shape of the gem had any significance or meaning, Scylla couldn’t hazard a guess. All she knew is that the gem added a bit of weight to her new accessory, which she worried would cause her to strain her neck as she wore it.
“Do you like it? It’s a special collar given only to special females.” The deer said as he attached a leash to a small ring on the collar’s front, located just below the gem.
“It’s… nice…” Scylla dishearteningly responded, not seeing what was so special about either it or herself at this moment.
“Nice?” the deer asked, picking up on the kelpie’s depressed tone. “I suppose it’s not ideal, seeing that this is your first day as a slave. You’d probably rather be back home, doing whatever pony things you were doing before you were brought here.”
The very mention of her home reminded Scylla of everything she had taken away from her. Her room, her things, her friends, and most importantly, her father. The mare couldn’t help but start crying at the loss of it all.
“Aww, come now. There is no need for tears.” the stag said in the most calming voice he could manage, using the fur on his hands to wipe the tears away and clean up the smudges of makeup all her crying up to this point had caused, “It’s tough now, but once you get past this things will get easier. You’re gonna get a nice, strong master who will take care of you. You’ll be trained by the Society to become the best mare you can be, and once that's done you’ll have a life of ease as a bre-”
Before he could finish what he had to say, the lights in the room dimmed to near darkness, and every voice in the room grew silent.
“Shoot, the ceremony is starting.” The stag said in a hush, “We need to get into position or you’ll get in trouble. Please follow me, and try not to make a sound.”
The stag stepped out into the clearing, and while Scylla did not follow him immediately, the tug of her leash got her moving. It also helped to guide her, as her tears and the darkness of the room obstructed her vision. As quietly as she could, she went where that taut strip of fabric led her, and a few seconds later, she was standing in front of one of the rows of stone benches, in front of an unknown number of men would wished to take from her any freedom she had.
Not long after, music filled the room, a soft, ambient melody to set the mood of the event. Then, seven spotlights came to life, all of which pointing to the wall of dark crystal Scylla had noticed before. It drew in her attention, as well as that of every occupant in the room, and wiping what was left of her drying tears out of her eyes, she managed to see something that was truly amazing to her.
From seemingly out of nowhere, a mare appeared in front of the wall, a crystal unicorn mare, purple with a dark blue mane, wearing a shimmering black evening gown and holding a microphone. She was the same one that had teased her father earlier, but she was blindfolded at the time and didn’t know that. All she knew was that mare had some form of importance, seeing that all attention was being solely directed to her at the moment, and that she had just came out of nowhere. At first, Scylla believed she was just mistaken. That her tears and the crystal unicorn’s colors just made her perceive the mare appearing out of thin air, but soon something happened that completely removed any doubt.
As the crystal mare walked to the center of the room, a minotaur, one slightly bigger than the other ones she had encountered, walked into the room, coming out from the crystal wall. He hadn’t smashed through it, or stepped out from some secret passage behind hidden by the wall. He had literally stepped out from it, like he was walking through a wall of water. It wasn’t just him either, as an odd, orange pony with white hair came out right after.
As astonishing as that was, leaving Scylla wondering if this was a trick or actual magic at work, she couldn’t help but have her attention drawn back to the crystal mare as she moved along. Wherever she went, the spotlights followed and centered on her, and likewise the two that were emerged from the wall followed.
The mare made her way to the altar, and once there the large minotaur behind her lifted her up, setting her a top it. After dusting off and straightening out her dress, the unicorn brought her microphone to her lips to speak.
“Esteemed members of the Society Security Sector,” she began, looking around the room with a sinister smile, “I welcome you to our second Minotaur Matchmaking ceremony. A celebration and reward for all the hard work you’ve done to help us accomplish our goal of joining submissive ponies with their rightful masters.”
The crystal mare was very pleased with herself as she gave her speech, as Scylla could tell by the happiness she was emitting. Scylla couldn’t understand how anypony could take joy in this. In kidnapping other ponies, but this unicorn didn’t look at all hesitant about the awful things this group was doing. She wasn’t wearing a collar either, so she had to be somepony who profited from this slavery ring.
“Since this is only our second such event,” the mare went on to say, “I am going to explain the rules of this event one more time before introducing our ‘rewards’, just to be sure that everyone present understands the proceedings. This ceremony is a bonus to go along with your pay, the chance to get a slave of your own before we finalize the projected goals, and gather enough slaves to make them available to all members of The Society. However, because we are on short supply of available flesh at the moment, it was decided that the most fair way to decide who gets our lovely little offerings was to hold a lottery.”
A lottery? Scylla thought to herself. She knew that she was going to be made a slave, and had assumed that a minotaur was going to be her owner, but now the kelpie was learning that she was not being bought, but raffled off to whichever of these bovines who happened to hold a ticket with the right number on it. Something about that made this all feel more degrading, like she was being treated as a door prize.
“Six of you lucky bulls will be called down in front of your peers, so that you may then join in a game of roulette, and determine which of our attractive and alluring females will go to which of our winners through the fairest means possible.” With the rules laid out, the crystal mare gave her long mane a flick with her hand, adding quite a deal of flair to the action, the gesture all part of her performance as she used her body motions to entertain the audience. “With the rules out of the way, let’s proceed to what you are all here for, and introduce the slaves that the most lucky of you will be crossing your fingers for.”
The mare lifted her finger up into the air, pointing to the heavens while looking within the shadows that surrounded her. She stood this way for a little while, allowing the suspense to build in the crowd. Scylla could feel the tension filling the room, a deathly silence consuming all sound as all awaited the unicorn’s next move. If all eyes were not upon the crystal mare before, they sure were now.
She was well aware of this too, as she made a “Heh” noise loud enough that it was picked up on her microphone. Next thing the audience knew, the crystal pony was on the move, bringing her arm back down, shooting her hand to her side to point out into a seemingly random direction. The very second her arm was fully extended one of the lights that beamed down upon her broke away, running off into the direction that she pointed as if she had projected it herself. It flew across the floor, traveling through the room in a straight line, until it landed on something in the darkness. That something, was another pony.
“Hailing all the way from Horseshoe Bay,” the crystal mare said as the single light shined down on a pink unicorn, “Everyone put your hands together for Charming Tale, our new ‘Element of Obedience!”
At the mare’s command, the room erupted with the sound of applause. Scylla didn’t join in, but her eyes were glued on this new pony. Like herself, the pink unicorn was completely nude, save for a cloth collar around her neck with a topaz upon its front, a black ring around the base of her horn, and her own arms which were doing their best to cover any private areas. The kelpie couldn’t tell from this distance if the gem was the same shape as her own, but she could tell that like herself a leash was coming off of it like her own, certainly being held by somepony just outside of the light.
Scylla could tell other things about the unicorn too, like her body type for instance, which was tall, but rather slender. She reminded Scylla a little of a supermodel mare from one of her magazines, Fleur De Lis, except that she was a darker shade of pink, her much more wild mane was purple, and her breasts were not nearly as impressive, being somewhere between an A-cup and a B-cup. It wasn’t often that Scylla saw a mare with such a nearly flat chest like the unicorn’s.
Physical features aside though, Scylla could tell that this mare, who had probably been abducted from her own home the same as she had, was doing just about as well as emotionally as herself in all this. She was trembling enough that it was visible at a distance, finding it hard to stay still at the thought of all the men staring at her with their hungry eyes. A wavering smile was doing its best to stay on her muzzle, but the way it was rapidly vanishing and reappearing told Scylla that it was fake. She probably thought that if she smiled, the slavers would take pity or go easier on her. Scylla didn’t believe that their sadism was going to be so easily swayed.
“Miss Tale,” Schorl said as the unicorn trembled, “Is a bright mare with an alluringly slender frame. What she lacks in chest size, she makes up in her beautiful petite features, and a personality that is… independent, but willing to obey when properly motivated. The time I’ve spent with her has revealed to me that all she needs is a strong master and a firm hand against her rump. Talented in her craft, and talented in the bed, she would make an excellent addition to any master’s harem.”
With the unicorn’s description finished, the crystal pony moved her hand in another direction, another light beam separating from her to shine down on a pegasus. With fur a dark, yet pale blue and silvery hair, this mare’s appearance was not as the previous one. She was covering herself, like Charming Tale was, but did so without a ounce of fear. Its stance was unshaken, defiant, shooting a furious glare at the mare center stage. If not for the leash attached to her throat, around which which had a collar that bore a sizable diamond, and a pair of straps binding her wings, Scylla would have expected this mare to fly the coop, despite the daunting odds she would face in her attempt.
“Representing both the pegasus race, and the ‘Element of Selflessness’, we have Blue Yonder.” the crystal mare announce, “A former resident of Canterlot, this pretty pegasus gave up a life as an elite for a life of adventure, and now she’ll have the greatest adventure a mare can ever experience.”
Scylla spotted Blue Yonder roll her eyes at the crystal mare’s comment, which the kelpie found a little humor in seeing, despite this grim situation. Scylla could tell that this mare was not one to be intimidated, and wished that she could be more like her in the face of danger. A little bit of courage would have done her wonders right now, when her knees were hitting against one another as she tried to will herself from shaking on spot.
“Moving on to her demeanor, she has shown a great deal of resistance to the process. Her submissive side, while there, doesn’t pop up often. Putting her in a state of helplessness helps to bring her true self to the surface, but most of the time you will be dealing with an attitude. Perfect for the master who wishes to break in his slaves himself, or the sadist who likes their pin cushions to give them a bit of lip.”
A round of applause followed the end of the crystal mare’s description, announcing the approval of this pegasus as one of the prizes for this event. Blue Yonder closed her eyes and let out a sigh at this, not impressed or moved by the acceptance of herself as an offering, but aware that her approval was not required in this. Whatever her captors had in mind for her, she was going to be a part of, and for the time being at least she’d just have to put up with it.
With another point from the crystal mare, a third light departed from her, this time landing on a visage that shocked Scylla at first glance. An earth mare, with fur so black that she almost blended into the shadows and icy blue hair appeared. Unlike the other three mares, Scylla included, she was not brought to a heel by the simple application of a leash. She was held within much heavier bonds.
Starting with the one thing all the mares shared, the earth pony’s collar had in it a chunk of orange amber. The collar itself was a much heavier, made of a silvery polished metal like steel or iron. Her arms and legs, all having highly defined muscle tone, were shackled not with a single pair of cuffs, but with half a dozen on each in order to insure her inability to break free, her appendages greatly weighed down by the sheer amount of chains dangling between them. Her head likewise bore a thick layer of bondage, with a cloth sleeve wrapped tightly around her muzzle, a heavy leather blindfold wrapped around her eyes, and even some sort of padding stuffed into her ears to plug them up, As she was, only her sense of touch was unrestricted.
“A mare that requires little introduction, this troublemaker is one that many of you have dealt with before.” the crystal mare said this with a bit of a chuckle, as if amused by remembrances of the earth mare’s attempts to resist and defy her organization, “Miss Midnight, has become a bit of a popular pony in our slave stock. Originating from Rainbow Falls, this mare grew up with aspirations to join the Equestrian Royal Guard, and eventually achieved her prestigious goal in her adulthood. Later, Miss Midnight was donated to the Society by one of her superior officers, a member of our luxurious group, when she chose to poke her nose in places it didn’t belong.”
A chattering of clinking chains sounded from Midnight, sensing somehow that she was being talked about though her bindings should have prevented that. In response to her movements, a pair of minotaur hands came from the shadows, landing down on her shoulders to keep her still.
“Miss Midnight is our ‘Element of Humility’, an appropriate designation for one who will need to learn the trait extensively for her future role. While she will be a challenge, her body is well crafted by a lifetime of training for guard duty. Toned and tight, her form will snugly wrap around the shaft of her future owner, forcing shes of pain and passion from her muzzle as she crafts her song of subjugation.”
During another round of applause, this one a little less enthusiastic for this problematic pony, the crystal mare went ahead and directed a fourth light from her central spot. The reveal this time was not shocking like last time, but nonetheless interesting. The previous three were all of the dominant pony races in Equestria: Earth Pony, Pegasi, and Unicorn. The latest addition to the group was a bit more unique.
A thestral, or bat pony in the common vernacular, had appeared. A brown furred, white haired variety of the species. Scylla knew very little of bat ponies, as they were a seldom seen pony race. Not on the level of a kelpie, but thestrals apparently lived in isolated areas far away from where most other ponies lived, for reasons she didn’t know. Here one was though, standing buck naked with a black fabric collar adorned with a rose quartz on the front of it. If there was a theme to these gemstones, then Scylla had long since lost track of it, as by now she could tell that all the gems were slightly different in both color and shape.
The bat mare, awaiting the descriptor of herself that the crystal mare was undoubtedly going to give, wasn’t in any way bound to do so. Unlike the others, she had no leash on her collar loop, nor straps on her webbed wings. In fact, she had in one of her hands one of those purple peaches that Scylla had tried in the spa room, and was quietly munching down on it as if nothing was wrong in the world. For some reason, to the bat pony this was all about as nerve wracking as a leisurely stroll through a garden. Not only was she unbound and unphased, but when the light struck her form the minotaur in the darkness immediately clapped for her appearance.
“Yes, yes,” the crystal mare said, “We have reached the second half of our introductions, and with this we have reached a mare you have all been waiting for. The ‘Element of Pleasure’, the sweetly seductive Nightshade!”
At the utterance of her name, the bat mare looked up, finally aware she was on display, and gave a wave and a smile while she continued to chew her fruit.
“How adorable.” the crystal mare said, “This bat pony was bred and raised in the grand nation of Minopolis. Trained and educated in the talents she would need in marehood, this filly recently came of age, and is ready to use these skills to serve a worthy master. She’s cute, exotic, willing, and a virgin, eager to be ravaged for the first time by the brutal cock of a bull.”
Nightshade gulped down whatever bits of fruit that were in her mouth, “Well when you put it that way, you make me sound like a masochistic slut.” she said with a giggly manner of speech, sounding like she was at the verge of laughing with each word.
“Well there is nothing wrong with that sweetie,” said the crystal mare, “Especially not considering the type of slave you’re gonna be.”
Nightshade nodded with a bright smile, and returned to what remained of her purple peach.
“That being said, while Nightshade has had extensive teachings into her role as a slave, she has no personal experience. Thus she, like the rest of the prize slaves, will require a bit of time at the Society’s facilities to make sure she is physically prepared for her duties.”
The crystal mare’s words caught Scylla’s ear, having finally heard a bit of good news. No matter what happened in this room, or which of these minotaur would become her master, she would not be leaving this building, at least not for a while. That meant she would be able to stay where Pathfinder was, and that perhaps there was still a chance to escape with him in the near future.
“Next!” the mare said, moving past the bat mare, slowly redirecting her hand to a fifth location. “We have a first for the Society. A special treat that has been asked for for some time, and only now has been made a reality. So please, welcome to our happy group, Gabriella of Griffonstone!”
The crystal mare’s hand finally reached its destination, and as with all the times before, a light was cast out to part the darkness away and reveal a female. The woman in question this time was even more different than the bat pony before. Not because she was a rare species or that she was unbound. On the contrary, her race was fairly common in Equestria, and her wings were bound up just like Blue Yonder’s. But she wasn’t a bat mare or even a pegasus.
Gabriella, as she was called, was a gryphon. Half bird, half feline. Grey feathers and fur covered her entire body, with only yellow talons for hands and a small patch of white under her chin, one partially obscured by a leather collar and the large sapphire attached to it, to add a bit more color to her palette. With the light shining on her, these feathers puffed out, and her body tensed up in a defensive gesture. It was hard to tell if this was due to anger or fear, but like most of the others put on display here, this gryphon was not happy with her current predicament.
“For a long time, we had a particular policy to leave the gryphons alone so long as they were willing to aid in the Society’s goals. The more we stuck to this though, the more our members desired these graceful avians to be a part of our slave roster. After much negotiation, I was finally able to barter a price for one of whom they would never miss. This leads into Gabriella’s good qualities, as her fellow gryphons found her far too chipper, with an annoying desire to help others above and beyond the boundaries of her job as a mail deliverer. Generally, she doesn’t really represent the greedy nature of her race, and they didn’t appreciate that characteristic about her. Of course, that eagerness to please is something The Society looks for in an “Element of Dedication”, and we are more than happy to take in this girl when no one else wants her.”
Once the crystal pony finished, Scylla could tell that there was only one pony left to be exposed to those awaiting their offering of flesh, that being herself. The others were positioned in a way that they were directly across from one another, with Scylla herself being in the path of the earth pony guard mare. The moment the crowd stopped clapping, she would be in the spotlight. This had given her time to adapt, but could one really prepare for something like this?
The kelpie would soon find out, as the applause came to an end, and the crystal mare’s head turned to lock her eyes on Scylla. Even in this darkness, the unicorn peered directly at her as if she knew precisely where Scylla was. Not only that, but there was something about the gaze of this mare that unnerved the kelpie. Something beyond being glared at while naked, or found out in pure darkness. It felt as if the crystal pony was looking at private and secret things that Scylla wasn’t even aware of until now, that her very soul was fully exposed, being ogled at with regards to what kind of invasion that would be of Scylla’s person.
“And lastly, we have our piece de resistance,” the mare said with a pointing of her hand, sending an assault of light down upon Scylla, which removed any protection the darkness had given the aquatic pony. “Scylla, as this mare is known by, is a gentle creature known by some in Equestria as a mere shopkeep from Vanhoover. Others know her more by her race alone, which might be a disservice to the girl. Be that as it may, this kelpie is a rare species in Equestria, a breed of pony who is more accustomed to living underwater than walking on land, this one was adopted as a child by a pegasus, and thus never became as xenophobic as the other kelpie. This rare occurrence has granted us the opportunity to capture one of their illusive race without too much difficulty.”
Scylla had never known much about kelpie as a species except that she happened to be one. As the crystal mare had said, they were a rather elusive species that shunned and segregated themselves from other races. When Pathfinder had found her as a baby, he and all his close friends were so uncertain of what she was that he had to take her to Canterlot, to talk to some of Equestria’s greatest scholars in order to figure out what she was and where she belonged.
At the discovery of her species, more problems arose when the kelpie’s extreme xenophobia was brought to light, and how they would not present themselves to land based ponies for any reason. They were not the first species to disassociate themselves completely from ponies, as Pathfinder learned, but it meant that returning Scylla back to her family was practically impossible, as even if he had located a kelpie city, they would not have helped him in the slightest. Seeing no other options, and feeling responsible for her safety, Pathfinder took it upon himself to raise Scylla as his own.
“While this girl arrived just today, only hours ago,” the crystal mare continued, “I see within her the potential of a slave of the highest honor. An 'Element of Submission'. She bares a fragile will that exists to be shaped, guided, and protected, and under the watchful eye of a strong master, she will be among the greatest of servants. An obedient mare who will serve without question, have the selflessness to put her wants beneath he who owns her, learn the humility that comes with her role in life, grant pleasure with her flesh on par with few others, and give her life in devotion to her betters.”
The crystal mare’s predictions for Scylla unnerved the kelpie even more than her glare, saying that eventually she would just give in to this enslavement. It was another scenario like those in the dark romance novels she had read. Some pony would be captured by a powerful creature they couldn’t escape, and over time they become used to the creature’s oversexualized treatment of them, reducing them to a slave whose only goal in life was the pursuit of personal pleasure through obedient servitude towards their imprisoner, the only one who can grant them such feelings by that point. It was another thing Scylla had assumed was only real in fiction, but the crystal mare talked about it happening to her as if it were a foregone conclusion. She should have dismissed this as just nonsense, but the crystal mare has such conviction in the way she said things that it was hard to dismiss.
“And with that, all introductions are now out of the way.” said the crystal mare, one remaining light shining down upon her as the other six stayed affixed to their designated mares. “And with that out of the way, we can move on to the moment you’ve all been waiting for, the calling of numbers, and the distribution of our lovely slaves.”
Slowly, the main lights in the room brightened up, and made seen every person in it. The minotaur in the crowd, the deer aiding the event, and the ponies that had been exposed for the majority of the event lost any remaining concealment they once had.
“Please follow me,” said the stag holding Scylla’s leash, making the kelpie jump. He had been so quiet that Scylla had forgotten he was even there, her attention towards him pulled away by everything else that was going on. “We mustn't keep Lady Tourmaline waiting.”
“Lady Tourmaline?” Scylla questioned, before feeling a slight tug that ushered her forward.
“The mare that’s been talking this whole time.” the stag informed, “She’s the headmistress, and will be the one managing your training. Well, her and your master.”
Confirming what the kelpie already assumed, the deer made a beeline for the center alter. Scylla followed, feeling more brave and no less helpless as when she first entered the room, steadily approaching what was certainly her doom.
“We will now move onto the lottery,” bellowed the minotaur who had stayed close to the crystal mare, filling the room with his voice. “When your number is called, please come down and confirm your ticket.”
A doe rushed up to the minotaur at his announcement: pretty, young, and carrying a bucket in her arms. When arriving to his side, she shifted the container into one arm, holding it up with both the appendage and her modestly sized breast. Thus held, she drove her hand into the bucket, pulled out a small slip of paper, and handed it over to the minotaur.
“Ticket number 1408,” the minotaur said after inspecting the ticket, calling down one of his brethren from the stone stands.
The doe went on to grab another paper, and as she did, the crystal mare leapt down from her perch atop the altar. By the time her hooves touched the floor, each of the prizes for the event had been brought to the center, save for the bat mare, who had gone there of her own accord.
“Hi girls!” she said to the six women now surrounding her, her tone no different than how one might greet a long unseen friend, “Thank you all for being so patient and quiet during the ceremony. I’m so glad that we didn’t have to gag anyone this time.” saying that, she took a sideways glance to the earth mare being escorted by her bovine escorts, “Not during the proceedings, at least.”
“Is that suppose to be a joke?” asked the blue pegasus, if so, it’s not very funny.”
Resting her head on a singular finger, the mare answered, “I suppose not, seeing your position. You’ll have to excuse my failed attempt to give levity to this. Believe me, I understand how distressed and confused you all must be right now.”
Looking around, Scylla could see that there was still a variety of emotions among the group that she had been dragged into by this crystal pony, creating a thick tension that the mare really seemed oblivious to. If she truly understood how they felt, she wouldn’t have forced them into this.
“However, this is neither the time or place for your questions or complaints. Your masters are being summoned, and we need to get you all set up.”
“Yes ma’am!” Nightshade practically yelled before climbing up on one of the large metal slabs, turning herself around once on it so her back laid upon it. With a spread of her legs, and raising of her arms above her head, the bat mare then announced, “Ready!”
“Oh Nightshade…” the crystal mare said with both exasperation and bemusement, “I appreciate your devotion, but you need to learn a little word called ‘decorum’.” giving a light sigh, she went on to say, “But I suppose that can wait for another day.”
“A-are we all going on that thing?” Scylla asked, believing she already knew the answer.
“Yes, indeed you are,” replied the crystal mare, “And I would appreciate it if you all did so willingly. Otherwise, we’ll have to force you on there, and I’d so hate to have your bodies bruised before your masters got to you. Though I’m sure their understand if push comes to shove.”
As the crystal mare finished what she had to say, the two minotaur restraining the bound earth mare lifted their prisoner up by her arms. Sensing her world slipping out from under her, she started to flail around in the air, desperate to be released. The two hulking bovines weren’t having it though, and with little effort they tossed her on one of the slabs, the impact making the whole altar rattle. It caused Midnight to yell into her muzzle, as well as made Nightshade bounce up slightly.
“As you can all see, it would be little problem to force the issue.” said the crystal mare as she delightedly watched the two brutish males remove the many bindings on the earth mare, only to rebind her with the straps attached to the slab.
In moments they were finished, leaving only the collar on, which let Midnight take in her current environment for the first time. What she saw didn’t please her in the slightest, and now freed from the restraints that prevented her from vocalizing her opinion, she gladly gave it.
“Where the fuck am I!?” she shouted, pulling her arms forward, only to find them bound in chains that prevented her from lowering her elbows below her forehead, “Where did you bastards take me!?”
“Charming, isn’t she?” said the crystal mare, “You can see why we decided to tie her mouth shut.”
“Oh fuck off you filthy, slaver bitch!” Midnight rebutted, “When the princesses find out about this, it’s going to be your ass that’s in chains.”
Scylla had to agree that she didn’t enjoy the earth pony’s harsh language, but in this case it wasn’t like she didn’t have a reason to be angry.
“Ignore her,” the crystal mare said to the rest of the group, “We can’t allow her to spoil are delightful evening. Now if you all would be so kind...” extending her arm out, she gestured the others in the direction of the altar.
Still seeing no way out of this, Scylla took a deep breath, stepping forward. She and the unicorn Charming Tale both went up to the structure with the deer holding their leashes, Scylla taking the spot next to Midnight, and Charming Tale taking the next spot aside the kelpie.
“No!” yelled the guard mare, “Don’t listen to her! Don’t give in to her bullshit!”
Scylla looked meekly at the guard mare, knowing she was right, but at a loss of what to do otherwise. Her only choices were to get on willingly, or get on painfully.
“What would you have us do instead?” said Charming Tale, as well aware of their options as Scylla was, “Our soft bodies are not as accustomed to pain as your finely sculpted one is. So if I’m going to be raped, I would prefer it be done as easily as possible. If you don’t mind, that is.”
The guard mare didn’t enjoy this response, of course, but didn’t see how she could ask civilians to put themselves in direct harm. As much as she despised the thought, she would have to resign herself to simply giving the crystal mare the most hateful death glares as she could muster.
The two mare’s accompanying deer assisted them onto their slabs, crouching down before them to offer their backs as steps, and assisting with the bonds on the device. Scylla soon found her legs forcibly spread apart, her arms chained above her, and waist belted down so she could not remove herself from the altar without assistance. Bound in this manner, her entire front was fully exposed and vulnerable, meaning that she was past the point of no return. Whatever defilement that would befall her now was unavoidable, beyond some sort of intervention she had no reason to believe would come.
With four females from the six person group now in place, the two avian women found their own hesitation pointless. With nary a word, they too took their place on this altar to partake in this ill fitted fate. Little time after, all six were strapped tightly into the mushroom shaped piece of metal, awaiting what was to come next.
“And lastly, ticket 1986!” yelled out the crystal mare’s minotaur escort as he called out the final number in the lottery. At once, those not called forth joined together to groan loudly and destroy their now worthless slips of paper, crumpling, ripping in half, and otherwise discarding them with no concern of the cleanup it would cause for someone else later.For the six chosen though, it was a joyous occasion, and they each stepped down with varying levels of satisfaction and, for some, smugness as they reveled in their victory of chance.
The six bull men joined in the central area, presented their tickets to the one that called out their lucky numbers, confirming to him that they deserved to be part of the main event. With a nod, they were admitted the right to participate, and to take a place around the altar. Scylla watched the men talk among one another, deciding the order of which the would stand around the structure, and commenting on which one of the females they would perfer over the others. Watching them all, Scylla really couldn’t tell much about any of them. These minotaur each looked like large, imposing monsters to her, not helped with the terrible knowledge that each wanted to violate her body in ways she didn’t want them to, but couldn’t avoid, thinking about.
They had their variances, some more muscular, some with longer or shorter hair, one even having a large metal ring in his nostrils, but they all looked the same in Scylla’s eyes. Even the fatter looking one walking her way had no features about him that made her see him as an individual from any others. Prejudice it might have been, but a well deserved one that had been shoved into her thoughts by these monsters.
“Well, well, well…” said the heavy set minotaur, positioning himself in front of the kelpie, “I can’t believe that I really got a shot of owning you. Seems like it might be fate for us after all.”
Scylla looked at the minotaur, unable to see beyond his massive image as he loomed over her, She didn’t know what he was talking about, but it seemed to him that there was some point behind his words. For some reason, that made the words important to her too, and as she shifted them around in her head, a horrific truth dawned upon her.
No, please no! She thought, her mind racing with a surge of fear induced adrenaline, Anything but this!
This minotaur was the pot bellied one she had to endure the company of earlier when being guided to this room. The sadistic one that made mention of cracking a whip across her bare, exposed pussy lips and pressing hot metal against her skin. The one the stag that leashed Scylla called ‘Master Jupiter’. This awful bull who set the standard of what she felt towards his entire race. How could she be so unfortunate as to have him be even a potential master for her. What if he already was her master? What if she belonged to him and she just wasn’t aware yet? How was that even determined?
“Ok, ok, enough gawking at the meat.” said the crystal mare’s escort, striding aside Jupiter, “Take a spot, and we’ll get these slaves sorted out.”
“I’m fine right here.” Jupiter said, giving Scylla a nasty grin, “Right in front of my desired bitch.”
“Fine,” said the other minotaur, “Just don’t cry to me when you don’t get her.”
With that said, the minotaur reached over Scylla, and grabbed a handle located in the center of the top of the altar, one flush with the flat area, and had gone unnoticed by Scylla. With an impressive display of strength, the bull lifted the entire structure, mares, gryphon, and all, with one arm, and twisted it to lock it into some unseen mechanism within the central beam that held up the rest of the structure. This also increased the height of the mushroom significantly, placing the crotchal regions of the six females at the same height as the crotches of the minotaur, for reasons that were obvious to everyone involved.
“Ok, you all should know the rules!” said the minotaur as he released the handle, “One spin, whichever bitch stops closest to you is yours! No do overs! No complaints!”
“Sounds perfectly fine with me.” Jupiter said, licking his lips, staring into Scylla’s eyes with malintent, and grabbing the handle to the right of Scylla’s head.
The other five winners of the lottery gathered round, taking a place in front of seemingly random female, and likewise grabbed a handle next on the altar. After that, they all winded back said arms, which in turn rotated the structure in the direction they pulled it towards in unison. The motion of the thing Scylla was strapped to sparked a series of rapid conclusions for the kelpie, and she quickly figured out what the one minotaur meant when he said ‘spin’.
Thus, with a combined effort to push the altar in the opposite direction they had pulled it, the minotaur group sent the whole thing spinning in a circle like a playground merry-go-round, their one consolidated effort more than enough to send the six women they were competing for in circles. The entire decision of who would go to whom, and who would be whose master decided on a simple game of roulette, wherein no one could determine the outcome until the altar finished its rounds.
To Scylla, her world became a tornado of whirling images, and a cluster of sounds as she and the other soon to be slaves called out in fright, discomfort, outrage, or in the case of the bat mare, pure enjoyment. How anypony could enjoy any of this, which felt terribly akin to some twisted implement somepony would put into a horror book, was beyond Scylla, but Nightshade didn’t seem phased by any of this. Scylla didn’t know if she would be interacting with that mare much in the future, but she hoped she wouldn’t have to be around somepony who made light of a situation that ruined the lives of five others. Bondage and slaveplay were fine if that's what you’re into, but one should have qualms the moment others are forced to play along.
That thought faded though as the spinning of the altar slowed, and Scylla found her mind going back to the topic of who her master would be. Anyone but Jupiter she hoped. Anyone but the one who already told her he was going to torture her, if only to have that much longer to believe that she wouldn’t be abused. She prayed to whatever forces or deities that might have had control over the outcome of this cruel game that she wouldn’t land on him, but as the metaphorical wheel of fortune slowed, she could see Jupiter looking at her come round. His mouth grinned gleefully at her approach, and he rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation, knowing that at the pace the wheel was going, that she would most certainly stop directly in front of him.
Equestria Trainers' Society: Fish Out of Water
The rotating altar slowed to a steady crawl, with Scylla passing by a minotaur and into the range of the one called Jupiter. There was little doubt she would end up with him, as the spinning of the device she and five other females were strapped to was coming to a stop. Jupiter, aware of his great fortune, licked his lips in anticipation, just having to wait for the roulette to come to a halt.
As his sights were focused on the kelpie, so too was she focused on him. Her heart raced, her mind finding it hard to comprehend the poor luck mounted against her. She was no statistician, but even she could understand the sheer odds that should have been in her favor to not be with this one specific minotaur. Yet it was happening, and she was helpless to stop it.
Fearing and loathing this fate that had been assigned to her by some uncaring force in the universe, she did the one last thing that she was capable of doing in her pinned and prone position; She screamed.
“NOOOOO!!!” She shouted, adrenaline filling her veins to finally push out what traces of the anesthetic remained within her, “NOT HIM! ANYPONY ELSE! I DON’T WANT TO BE TORTURED!”
Scylla pleaded with all her might, foregoing all logic that said that she would be ignored, that there was no one there that could or would prevent her from being given to Jupiter. It didn’t matter though, she was going to end up in the clutches of this man.
“That’s right, empty out those lungs,” said Jupiter, ecstatic in both his victory and the kelpie’s distress. For one who enjoyed the suffering of others and the exercising of his own might over those he saw as vastly weaker than himself, this was a glorious moment of triumph. “We’ll just have to make you scream twice as loud when I stick my meaty dick in your dripping cunt.”
The other minotaur around the wheel groaned at Jupiter, none really enjoying his declarations, which to them seemed like boisterous bragging that he had won the grand prize. There was not a one among them that wouldn’t have wanted that kelpie as well, and likewise had plans for her to satisfy their own desires. Not that the other females were not on par with the aquatic mare, but Scylla was presented to be the top prize of the ceremony, and would have been a feather in the cap of any who acquired her.
Yet those in the crowd, who by this point had no stakes in who got who, encouraged this bit of poor behavior from the bull, shouting out things to him such as “Yeah, impale that pony bitch on your cock” or “Tear that cunt a new fuck hole” or other such debase and lewd comments. Not all of the crowd were joining in on this jeering, in fact it was a mere fraction of them that chose to spout off such obscenities, but in such an enclosed chamber with all others respectively watching to see the outcome of the spin, it was very noticeable.
Enough to egg on Jupiter, and get him to say more to amuse those in the crowd as sadistic as he. “I’m gonna pump you so full of cum, you’ll be spouting it out your mouth in a geyser,” he said while looking Scylla in the eye, “I’m gonna slap that tight ass till it’s as red as your hair. I’m gonna-”
“HRK!”
Just as the altar was going to come to a complete halt, a sudden and unexpected burst of speed came about, propelling the tables just a little bit further, restoring a bit of momentum to its rotation.
“Wha-what?” Scylla uttered aloud, confused as to why she was moving past Jupiter, and slowly onto the next minotaur.
It took a moment longer for Jupiter himself to realize something was amiss, but when he did, his eyes darted around frantically for the source of the problem.
“HRK!”
Again came the sound, and with it another jolt of momentum to the altar, Scylla moving ever so more past Jupiter. The minotaur was starting to believe the others around the altar were playing a prank on him, and saw some smirking to further convince him to this theory. However, when he tracked their eyes, he saw the true culprit to all this.
“HRK!” The sound came a third time, right out of the mouth of Midnight, the guard mare strapped to the table. Time and again she was shifting her powerful earth pony body, slamming it against her bounds to propel the table further along its rotation, pushing Scylla beyond Jupiter, which placed herself in in front of him instead.
“W-wait!” Jupiter reached for the altar to stop Midnight, panicked that he was going to lose the mare he rightfully earned.
“Don’t touch it!” yelled the larger minotaur monitoring the event, “If you interfere with the results, you’ll be disqualified.”
“But Sartek, this mare is interfering with the results right now!” Jupiter said, pointing to the mare coming to a stop in front of him.
“So what? Want me to disqualify her?” Sartek said, arms crossed, “There are no rules saying the mare’s can’t affect the results. If there were, then we couldn’t even do things like this, as their weight alone changes the outcome.”
“But-!”
“I said before, no complaints,” said Sartek, cutting off any other issues Jupiter had, “You get what stops on you, and it looks like that earth mare is all yours.”
Just as Sartek said, Midnight stopped manipulating the altar when she got close enough to Jupiter that there was no question that she landed in his section.
“The pairings have been decided!” These words filled the chamber as the altar came to a complete halt, spoken by the crystal mare as she yelled into her mic with a large amount of fanfare. “With the wheel at full stop, these six lovely females are now the designated property of the bull standing before them. Give a round of applause to each of these lucky participants for receiving by fate their chosen partners.”
Applause did come, but not all felt that they received what they truly earned as Sartek went to lock the altar into place, while others believed that they had clearly won out more than the others. One such pony was the earth mare, a grin across her muzzle as she looked into his baffled and outraged face with a small sense of victory.
“What’s wrong?” she said, mocking the minotaur in front of her, “Didn’t get the mare you wanted? I guess you’ll just have to settle with last prize.”
Midnight added insult to injury by devaluing her own worth as a slave. Having spent enough time within the walls of the Society, Midnight knew that some of the members considered earth ponies to not be as extravagant or worthwhile as slaves of other races, especially when it came to those who were not themselves earth ponies. She had reason to believe that this sense of inferiority was shared by Jupiter, and even if it wasn’t, at least a few of the others in the room had to believe similarly, and that was all she needed.
As she expected, a few of the other minotaur started chuckling lightly, finding Jupiter's change of fortune amusing from their unaffected point of view. Midnight herself joined in as Jupiter’s disbelief turned slowly to simmering anger, and he said under his breath. “You fucking bitch…”
“Maybe, but it looks like I’m your bitch now.” The guard mare replied, glaring triumphantly at her ‘master’s’ misfortune and impotent rage. Bound, trapped, and exposed as she had been, she could still find ways to defy The Society.
The next thing the earth mare knew was a powerful impact as a large bovine palm went across her grinning face, Jupiter having enough of her tone towards him. He was the one here with the power, not this slave, and for her insolence he was going to make her see stars. Having sent his open hand across her face, he sent his arm in the opposite direction so to catch it again when she dared to look back at him. His knuckles connected with her snout, digging down to the bone without breaking flesh, leaving behind a mark unseen because of her fur that was sure to later become a deep bruise.
He repeated this a few more times, smacking and backhanding Midnight to act out his frustrations with her, and to silence all who mocked him because of her ruining his chances to acquire the kelpie. There would have been no telling when he would have stopped, if not for Lady Tourmaline’s interference. Seeing that his aggressive actions were putting a damper on the ceremony, she decided to step in herself to try and quell Jupiter’s fury.
“Excuse me,” said Schorl as she went to his side to get in his peripherals, “But do you believe that this is necessary?”
“Stay out of this,” Jupiter responded, not caring the slightest about the crystal pony’s opinion. “This bitch cost me a lot right now, and deserves to be punished.”
“That may be, and you certainly have the right to punish her now that she belongs to you,” said the crystal mare, “But I personally see her actions just now as a compliment. Out of all the bull masters she could have had, she chose you. For everyone else, it was just random luck, but this one wanted to be with you more than any other. There must be some merit to that, I would believe.”
Jupiter thought about it a little. The mare did go out of her way to give herself to him, when she could have put herself in another space and out of his immediate reach. Looking at the battered earth pony, weakened by his assault. “So… you wanted to submit yourself to me, did you?” Jupiter didn’t truly believe that was the case, but the notion did have an attractive quality to it.
“Fuck... you...” Midnight responded, defiant to the minotaur regardless of the pain she felt.
“Don’t mind if I do.” he replied.
Jupiter grabbed the mare by the waist, wrapping his hand completely around her, and with his other hand reached down to his lower garments. He didn’t bother undoing a button, or pulling down a zipper, opting to instead tear the covering from his body, breaking seams and tearing fabric with only moderate effort. With nothing holding it back, Jupiter’s cock was exposed, growing into solidity with his thoughts of pushing into this mare who was, as far as The Society was concerned, all his.
“This seems like as good a time as any to move on to the closing ceremonies.” Lady Tourmaline said, moving away from Jupiter now that his temper had been sated. “As one final gesture, these six minotaur masters and our lovely, talented, and beautiful Elements of Servitude will consummate their newly founded master and slave relationship.”
“Consummate?” Asked the lone gryphon girl strapped to the altar.
“It means…” Blue Yonder said with a grimace, “They are going to finalize their ownership of us through sex.”
“But… but…” the feline avian tripped over her own thoughts, perhaps the only one of the group here that didn’t expect this to end in violation.
“Is there something on your mind?” her randomly selected master said as he removed his own pants, doing so in a much less dramatic way than Jupiter. “You have better speak it now, before the only thing that can escape your mouth is moans and screams.”
“I’ve… never done it before.” Gabriella admitted, hoping that it might touch some place of sympathy within the massive male undressing before her.
“I see…” the minotaur said, fully undressed, his own bullhood at full erection. It looked every bit as muscular as his hardened abs and rippling biceps, with large veins popping out around it’s exterior. “Then this will be very uncomfortable for you.”
The way he said that was without joy or malice, just a blank statement telling the gryphon girl an undeniable truth. While it might have been meant as sympathetic, it came off as cold with the minotaur stroking his shaft to maintain its rigidness before Gabriella.
“Please, don’t. That thing’s bigger than my arm.” the gryphon begged in one last attempt to appeal to whatever sense of morality resided in this man.
Understanding well the avian’s worry, the minotaur placed a hand on the side of her head to firmly rub her beak and cheek. “You will be fine. You were given injections before arriving in here, yes?”
Gabriella nodded in reply.
“Then no matter what I do, your body will be able to take it. It will hurt, but you will come out of this unbroken, save for your womanhood, which I will claim.”
“You are too kind to these cum buckets Cestus,” commented Jupiter, his own cockhead firmly pressed against the entrance of his slave’s pussy. “All the words in the world won’t make this easier for them, so the most merciful thing to do is just cram it in, like this!”
“Don’’t you da- AAACCKKK!” Midnight tried to protest her imminent penetration, but with the minotaur’s hand gripping around her body, all it took was a mighty pull and a mightier thrust and the Jupiter’s impressive bullcock was shoved inside the passage that should have been several sizes smaller than needed.
“What a nice voice you have there when you’re not trying to put on a brave face,” Jupiter said amused with the guard mare’s sudden spike of vocal range as he inserted himself into her, the earth mare’s normally gruff voice peeking into a more feminine one as her sentence turned into a yell. ”We’ll have to force that voice out of you more in the future. It’s an otherwise adorable aspect from an ugly, beaten mare.”
Midnight’s only reply was a series of heavy breathing as she adjusted to the large foreign object within her. Her abs, solid and powerful as they were, had to give way for the rod of meat, and bulge outward to clearly indicate the outline of it. Looking down at her abdomen, she could see the outline had made it as far as her belly button, showing her the deepness of the minotaur’s penetration the she felt so intensely.
Having heard his associate’s commence in taking his pony as a female slave was suppose to be taken, the minotaur called Cestus saw little reason to delay his own task in this ceremony. There was more to this than the gryphoness at his mercy knew, and even had her sympathy ploy worked, he couldn’t simply leave her be. As a minotaur bull, it was as much his duty as his right to use this slave female for her intended purpose.
“Time to begin, Gabrielle,” Aiming his shaft, he pressed the head of it to the gryphon’s lower lips, untouched by a man until now. Unlike Jupiter though, he decided to ease it in, to at least give his woman the chance to adjust to his girth as he entered her moist passage.
The feathery female feline didn’t take it well at all, cringing and contorting her face in anguish as the bull made his way through her to its destination. She had not the fortitude of the earth mare, so she was much more vocal about her suffering, making birdlike screeches and cat-like cries as pain unlike any before filled her. Merely a quarter in, and the bull pressed his tip against her hymen, and with the same continuous motion he had been doing from the start he drove through the thin fleshy obstruction to proceed down the pathway of her vaginal passage.
Halfway in, and she could feel the gigantic sexual muscle slightly shifting her organs to make room for its presence. Fortunately for her, she had been injected with the same elasticity formula that Scylla, and all the other girls for that matter, had been given. This allowed her to endure this sheer impalement of her slender feline form, physically at least, if mentally she was going through the tortuous feeling of having flesh stretched far beyond normal limits.
Wild Blue looked from her peripheral as this girl she had known for barely half an hour was being ravaged by a remarkable pole of a penis. The way her bull prolonged her agony by pushing into her as slow as feasibly possible, his hips getting ever closer to his captive victim’s as he vanished inside her, with a dripping crimson flowing down his length to drip on his sack. It defied ignorance, just as much as the minotaur standing in front of her did.
His own mass of male meat stood up in front of her, an intimidating sight to any woman of her size. “I-It’s my turn now, i-is it?” she said, doing her best to put on a brave face despite the peril presented to her. In her mind, Blue Yonder felt she would be ripped in half, or at the least experience some form of tearing, no matter what she was told about the chemicals flowing inside her. Logically, no pony could be fucked by something so huge without some form of injury or internal damage.
“Not quite.” said the bull, his inflections holding some dignity in the way he spoke.
Of the minotaur around the altar, this one appeared to be the most… matured, though perhaps that wasn’t the right word for it. He was not as large as some of the others, but his tannish fur had many greying strands within it. While not showing signs of being elderly in the slightest, he was a little past his prime.
“Not quite?” Wild Blue asked back, a bit confused as to why this slaver wasn’t taking his unwilling prize.
“Heh, don’t mistake me for a bull calf who is mating for the first time. You are not my first slave, and once your training is finished you’ll be meeting with your new sisters. Others that I’ve tamed, just as I will tame you.”
The pegasus gave a shudder at the way the minotaur said that, as it appeared that she had been delivered to a trained slaver, one who knew what he had picked up over the years. He implied with his declaration that not only had he done this to another woman, but several others that he had held hostage somewhere that she would be spirited away to herself after The Society was done teacher her what they believed she needed to know.
If she heard him correctly though, the bull wasn’t going to fuck her, at least not right this moment. “Then, what are you going to do to me?” she asked, this strange turn of events begging the question.
“Do you know the way to a woman’s heart, my dearest?” the minotaur said, answering her question with one of his own.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not going to say chocolates?” Wild Blue Yonder halfheartedly replied back.
“A sense of humor I see. No, such frivolous trifles are little more than ineffective bribery. Of course being a female, you would know this.”
“Then what is-?”
The minotaur knelt down before the pegasus, added yet another unexpected thing to the list of uncharacteristic things for this slaver and rapist to do. What he did next however put him back into the character that Blue Yonder envisioned him to be.
The bovine placed his hands down on her inner thighs, holding down her already bound legs for what seemed to be his own amusement as he put his face directly in front of her exposed snatch.
“You have a beautiful hole here.” he complimented, though this particular praise was not something the pegasus appreciated. “I will be honored to pleasure it in ways you never dreamed of.”
“As if I would ever be pleasured by the likes of you.” Blue Yonder retorted, feeling nothing but disgust in how the bull stared intently at her private area.
“Oh you will.” the bull stated bluntly, “Because this is the path to a woman’s heart. Not gold, or gems, or candy. If you can tame this orifice, then the female is yours to command.”
For some reason Blue Yonder felt this explanation was not meant for her, but more for the other minotaur around who were brashly jamming themselves into their own respective mares. Outside of boasting, there was little reason to tell one’s prisoner your strategy for getting them to submit. It just made them aware of what you were doing, and thus mentally prepared for your attempt.
Then again, she still didn’t know exactly what he was planning to do to her. Foreplay seemed to be the idea, and he could try to finger fuck her if he wanted. His index finger was roughly the size of a stallion’s cock, so it would at least not harm her vulnerable nethers unless he got aggressive with it. She wondered though if these hulking brutes even knew the concept of restraint though.
Watching his bound and powerless slave closely, the minotaur began moving his thumb over her mons, flicking his digit lightly across the fleshy portions of her pussy a few times to gauge her reactions. As one might suspect, she didn’t react well to his light stimulation of her erogenous zones, and gritting her teeth she refused to make a single sound just to spite her captor.
“Stubborn I see. I’ll let you know now that you only have two options here. Either you enjoy this of your own accord, or I’ll make you enjoy it against your will.”
“Bite me,” The dark blue mare replied.
“No biting…” he answered to Blue Yonder’s rebellious declaration, “But perhaps a taste is in order.”
Without any more warning, the cow let loose his tongue from his mouth, sliding it squarely across Blue Yonder’s slit. Unlike with the brief periods on light rubbing the bull’s digit had caused, this sudden slippery slither was not so easy to ignore. Blue yonder managed to keep her silence, but the spark of sensations made her head real back, with gross and unwanted feelings washing over her mind all at once.
The bull gave her nary a moment to rest either before making a second pass, removing his tongue from her flesh for the briefest of moments before setting its tip at the very bottom of Blue Yonder’s slit. A lift of his muzzle was all it took to send it across the path it had traveled before again, the rapidity of the twin tongue lashes doubling the sensations on the spot.
The pegasus mare couldn’t help but moan this time, releasing a sound that was made of both the uncomfortable pleasure starting to well up in her being, as well as her dismay for allowing herself to feel this way to begin with. Disgust should have been the only thing she felt right now, but unfortunately the body cared little about the difference between consensual and non-consensual touches.
It only got worse from there, as the minotaur continued lapping at her lower lips, diligently sending his tongue across it time and again, hitting every spot of exposed flesh like a mother cat cleaning a kitten. Blue Yonder, through all this, managed to hold her voice from the minotaur, stifling herself every time she thought she might yelp or moan, determined to keep as much control over this ordeal that she could.
Seeing the mare’s determination to deny him her pleasure filled cries of passion, the bovine decided to turn his game up a notch. Placing his tongue at the bottom of her slit again, he went up once more, but this time at a fraction of the speed he had been doing all this time, to which Blue Yonder was just starting to adapt to. The change of this steady pace made it more difficult to endure the touches of his tongue, prolonging what was a momentary feeling to one stretched out to the extent of its possible duration without stopping completely.
But when Blue Yonder confirmed in her mind that she would have to withstand an elongated attack to her senses, attempting to deaden herself to it, the minotaur changed his tactics half way. Giving no warning, he zipped his tongue tip side to side, traveling the remainder of her pussy entrance in a zigzagging pattern. This made the act of cunnilingus both shockingly rapid and achingly slow at the same time, with the tip dancing from one fleshy fold to another at rapid speeds, while the time he spent going along his path stayed nearly the same.
The pegasus’ reactions to this grew labored, with each few seconds of staving off what her body was experiencing growing more and more difficult. A torrent of disgusting pleasure was piling up inside, pressing against a mental dam that was quickly filling to capacity, and once it was filled there would be nothing left for it to do but spill over or burst. Blue Yonder kept trying though, and as the minotaur reversed his course, she found herself sealing her lips to hold in the air that passed through her clenched teeth, puffing up her cheeks in a rather silly display of resistance.
“Still not going to give in?” questioned the minotaur as he reached back to the part where the pegasus’ pussy touched her taint, more bemused than aggravated, “You are a willful one, that’s for sure.
With this break from the onslaught of sexual stimuli, Blue Yonder took the opportunity to take several deep, if haggard, breaths. A few tiny beads of sweat had formed on her body, the mental endurance she had to implement having a small effect on her physical form. Blue Yonder wanted to take as much time as she could to rest, because she knew her torment wasn’t over, and the minotaur wasn’t showing the same signs of fatigue as she was.
“You’re resilience is impressive, but you can’t fight me forever.”
“I… can… try…” Blue Yonder worked out these words through gasps for air, believing that if this was the extent of his skill, she could still manage to keep her pleasure to herself, if barely.
“You can… but you can’t succeed, especially since I’ve been taking it easy on you.”
“You’re… bluffing…” Blue Yonder said to dispel the minotaur’s claim, though realizing that he really hadn’t done as much as he could have as of yet.
What he did next recanted her nearly empty retort completely, as without a single word, he opened his mouth as wide as he could, releasing his tongue in its entirety. The organ was, to put it lightly, abnormally large, even for a creature of the bull’s size. Thick, long, the piece of malleable saliva soaked flesh was at least a foot in length. That was much more than the mere tip of it that she had felt before across her tender skin, and with him revealing it like this, there was only one thing that could happen next.
Blue Yonder, predicting what future this bull had for her, couldn’t help but attempt to avoid it. She moved her hips as much as possible, but with both the straps and the minotaur’s heavy hands on her legs, there was very little wiggle room, making her attempts a futile and alluring gesture for her captor.
Thoroughly amused by the fear of his appendage Blue Yonder was showing, the bull did as she had expected, and put his tip to her dirty entrance, her pussy now saturated with his spit as well as the fluids she produced when he first licked her slit. As wet as it was, all it took was a push to make the tongue enter her, the well lubricated passage inviting him inside with a strong embrace as it constricted around its penetrater.
Blue Yonder could no longer stifle herself, and in defeat she howled out the desires of her body. As the tongue crawled into her depths, her fleshy walls squeezed around it to make its touch all that more vivid. While she might have hated being violated in this way, her hole loved getting filled. The feel of the tip, gliding along her insides, leading the way for rest to work its way in. Once that tongue got into her tunnel, there was no stopping it until the passage was stuffed full, and the tip of it was pressing against the entrance to her womb.
As devastating as that was for the mare, it was nothing compared to what came after. Once the minotaur had gotten as deep as her cervix, he did what only one with such a large, meaty tongue could. Pressing his lips against the now quivering entrance of the mare’s sex, the minotaur rolled his tongue around, making it go back on itself, moving it around in waves, generally doing all he could to hit every unguarded spot inside her.
“EEEAAAAAHHH!!! NOOO!!! I! PLLLEEEAAASSSAAAA!!!” Blue Yonder was now yelling and wriggling with all her might, finding it impossible to hold still or be silent against this form of pleasurable punishment. She could still fight, still tell herself that she despised what she was being forced to feel, but she could no longer deny what the minotaur was doing to her when that metaphorical dam inside her was smashed apart with practically no resistance, sending the pegasus into the start of a string of orgasms.
Sounds of woe and lust resonated through the chamber, bouncing off walls, echoing back to the exhibition taking place in the center of it. Joining these grunts, screams, sobs, and moans were the cheers and jeers of the audience, the minotaur horde taking the consolation prize of getting to watch the show. Congratulations on conquering the bound females and mocking phrases at the suffering female’s expense were liberally tossed out, turning this ritualistic rape into a spectacle, with Scylla being at the center of it all.
To the kelpie, this combination of noise and stares pointed in her direction as other females were being violated around her increased her awareness like nothing before. Perhaps it was the fear made adrenaline flowing through her veins making her feel this way, but never before had she been able to take in her surroundings with such detail. Every second was a still frame, a picture that if Scylla wanted she could take in and observe without interruption, every person there a character she could take in. Yet despite these heightened senses, she was pouring all of it onto one creature, the minotaur she had just narrowly escaped.
As she watched, Jupiter was fucking his earth pony with such force that it amazed the kelpie that it wasn’t shaking the alter with every thrust. He was alternating between having half his shaft inside the guard mare, and going hilt deep with a slamming of his hips that rattled Midnight’s whole body. With such a show of brutality, it was very hard to focus on anything else, especially since that sexual violence was originally intended for her. Scylla was so drawn in that she was ignoring the minotaur that was in front of her, the one that was supposed to be her owner.
The minotaur had not touched her yet, waiting and watching as his slave stared unflinchingly at his associate. It he were insulted or mad, he didn’t show it on his stoic visage, merely waiting and watching his mare to see how long it would take her to realize his presence.
The kelpie’s entrancement with Jupiter was only broken when the sadistic bovine himself brought it up. “I bet you’re so disappointed that it wasn’t you taking my cock in your pussy.”
Instantly, whatever power Jupiter had over Scylla broke, snapping her back to reality. “W-what?” she asked, the shock of being brought back to the real world confusing her slightly.
“You’ve been eyeing my dick like a hungry slut from the moment I stuck it in this bitch,” Jupiter gave another thrust, forcing a howl from his victim as he pressed it in so much that his head poked up a bit of the flesh around her stomach. “You must really have wanted this inside that dripping twat of yours.”
“Is that true?” asked the minotaur standing in front of Scylla, finally drawing in her attention, “Do you want Jupiter to be your master? If so, then I suppose I could arrange a trade.”
Jupiter paused, pulling his cock out of Midnight a bit, while remaining inside her partially. “Really now? You’re willing to trade off a fine piece of ass like her?”
“It’s not that I want to,” Scylla’s owner answered, “But to be honest, the thought of my slave drooling over another man is making me a little jealous. If she’s going to be lusting after your dick over mine, then it would be better to just let her have what she wants, and get a different mare to replace her.”
Listening to the two minotaur’s discussion, Scylla understood quickly the mistake she was making. She was going to be handed off to a man she had no desire to be anywhere near, unless she started showing an interest in the one that she belonged to.
“P-please no.” Scylla said, directing her head to her owner, “I don’t want to go to him.”
“Is that the only reason why you’re paying attention to me now?” asked the minotaur, Scylla unable to tell if he was annoyed, curious, or whatever. The minotaur was quick to let who know though by adding to it, “Because it still sounds to me like your more concerned with being away from Jupiter than you are being with me.”
Her current owner wasn’t wrong, as if she had the option she wouldn’t be with any of these minotaur, but the way things were presented it was only the option of this one or the incredibly sadistic one. She just wished that she knew what to say in order to prevent her from going to the latter of the two. How would she be able to convince the minotaur to keep her though?
“Oh~ Ah~ Please, give me more~”
These noises suddenly sprung up next to Scylla, coming from the opposite side from the guard mare. She shifted her glance to her side, doing her best to make sure that her eyes didn’t stray too far from her owner. In her peripherals she saw Charming Tale, the unicorn of the group, being molested by her own minotaur master. He hadn’t stuck his penis inside her yet, but was no less being assaulted sexually.
The bovine, utilizing a ridiculously long tongue, was slurping voraciously over the her chest. While her breasts were nearly flat, he used the massive fingers of his hands to squeeze them and plump them out so he can better lick and suck what little she had. It was a vile display, with the minotaur disgustingly lapping at whatever exposed bits he could find, but there was something off. Charming Tale, who had appeared nervous earlier, was smiling and making elated sounds as her body was defiled. One might even believe she was enjoying what the rapist bull was doing to her, as she lifted her head up to expose her collared neck, and arched her spine like she was in the passionate throes of ecstasy.
That couldn’t be right, but with her calling out things like, “Suck them more!” and “I'm so wet from your licks!” there seemed little doubt that she was receiving some form of pleasure from what should have been a horrifying ordeal. Maybe her will had caved in the face of such an overpowering creature, or the bovine beast of a man ignited something primal in the unicorn that made his domination of her be perceived by Charming's frightened mind. as something enjoyable.
Whatever it may be though, the minotaur looked quite pleased by the lust filled words and pleasant moans she was presenting him with, and with a smile across his face, he sent a hand down to her crotch, and inserted his middle finger inside her anus, using the fluids pouring out of her pussy to slide the digit in, forcing a shriek from the unsuspecting mare.
“THANK YOU MASTER!” she cried shrilly through the squeal, and with such a elaborate praise of the minotaur’s ability to invade and violate her, Scylla wasn’t as sure as she was before about the trepidation she believed the unicorn was showing earlier.
One thing was for sure though. Her lack of fear and active participation was making her owner happy, and in this moment Scylla needed to make her owner happy. So the kelpie would have to play along, and make this at least feel as if she revered him as a slave should to those she belonged to.
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think I didn’t want to be your slave.” she started, quickly noticing how clunkily that came out. “I’m just scared and confused. I’ve never been a slave before. I promise that I’ll be more obedient and mindful of what you want from me. I can be a good girl, I swear.”
Jupiter gave a huff, and returned to plowing his guard mare, believing that the mare was providing an adequate display of deference towards his cohort.
Her owner, on the other hand, didn’t change his facial expression. “You can be afraid. Even if you obey my every command, you should always be worried you could displease me. It will help to assure you always do your best as my slave. Is that understood?”
Scylla nodded her head in response, seeing now that the bull wanted her to fear his reprisal should she fail to meet his standards. He might not have been a sadist, but she had no reason to believe that he wouldn’t punish her if she didn’t do exactly what he wanted.
“Good. I expect you to learn quickly, and never fight my authority over you. Now, to alleviate your confusion.” Undoing the button on his own lower garments, Scylla’s master released his own bull shaft. “Your purpose from now on is to do as you are told, and to carry my child within your womb.”
If there was any bit of her attention that was divided away from the minotaur before, it evaporated when his intent for her was explained. Her, carrying his child?! He wanted to get her pregnant?! Was that even possible? He was a bovine, and she was an equine. They had to be incompatible with each other, but he seemed to believe it could happen. Maybe it was, and she just never heard of a pony and a minotaur couple before. She had heard of hippogryphs, and they seemed to be the cross between a pony and a gryphon.
What was she thinking, even if it was possible, she couldn’t get pregnant. She had never been a mother before, she heard it was very painful, and what would it be like if she birthed something that was part minotaur? The thought of it was causing a considerable amount of stress for the kelpie, making her hyperventilate, her chest going up and down as her breaths rapidly went in and out of her lungs.
“I see that got you excited.” The minotaur said, grabbing his flaccid dick, moving the skin around it back and forth, over and over again till the soft meat turned hard. The sexual organ, in Scylla’s terrified and near hysterical state, looked no less big than Jupiter’s. In fact, it looked even bigger with her mind making her envision it as nightmarishly huge. What was even worse was that she knew that… thing was going to go inside her. It was going to spread her pussy out around it, delve deep into her fleshy cavity, and find its place inside her most private of spaces, to a place where even she had never explored in her times of private masturbation.
As that image played out in her imagination, the minotaur took this opportunity to emulate her horrific fantasy. To the kelpie, the male bovine was tracing the every action of the phantom of him she had envisioned, and thus when it placed it’s cock against her tight, moistened hole, he trailed no more than seconds behind.
When it pushed into her, he did the same in a similarly slow and torturous manner, forcing her lips to part around it till it formed an O shape snugly around him. When the imagined minotaur thrust its hips in to press the cock inside her up against the entrance to her womb, he followed as well. Then, when it grabbed her around the waist and made one final push to get past that barrier, making it to a place usually reserved only for babies, the real version continued to play copycat and matched the mental representation of himself. It was so accurate that Scylla was bordering precognition, but that kind of foresight did her no good in this situation. All it did was make it twice as vivid, twice as painful, and twice as humiliating as she endured everything in double.
The minotaur made his way into her womb in small increments, the tip of his penis pressing hard against her cervix, the tiny dot that was its entrance having to part far to make way for this unrelenting force. As with her vaginal entrance, there was no stopping this battering ram of a sex organ, and had not she received the drugs earlier that made her insides elastic-like the flesh inside her would have ripped from the mass of male. Her flesh held, strained as her pussy parted to give him room, but otherwise whole.
“There we go…” the minotaur said to his slave, petting her hair, “That wasn’t too bad at all, now was it?”
The minotaur was referring to how Scylla had made little noise as he entered her, being much more silent than all the others who had let loose their pain and passion. It wasn’t that she had taken her penetration any better. On the contrary, she had it the worst. When trying to scream all that came out as a long squeak, and now she couldn’t even give a reply to what the minotaur said to her, only sniffles and sobs as she was given a moment to take in what had been done to her.
Given no reply, the minotaur took that as a sign to continue. He moved his hips, moving his thick shaft inside, rubbing it against every surface within Scylla’s sexual passage all at once. Her sore cervix, forced open by his cockhead, had to experience that spreading all over again each time he pushed in, as each pull out brought the bulbous tip out of the womb, giving the inner hole just enough time to try and shut itself before the invader came back. Scylla felt her muscles contort and contract on their own, reacting to the minotaur’s pounding penis within her. Just to hold still, she had to make a conscious effort, and then eventually that didn’t work either. The kelpie’s entire form eventually went on autopilot. Unable to move her arms or legs in any significant way, she became nothing more that a passenger in her own body, only her head could move on her own accord, and part of the time it was busy bouncing up and down to follow the force of the thrusts the minotaur was making in her.
All of the other mares were being likewise fucked by their respective owners by now, with Blue Yonder and Charming Tale’s minotaur having delved themselves into the pony’s after a bit of foreplay. Each of the bulls were pumping their bullhoods into their slaves, their women, whether the female liked it or not, which in most cases it was the latter. In return they received shrieks, groans, moans, squeals, yells, and whines showing the level of enjoyment or displeasure each one was getting from their steady and repetitive penetration, and in turn the females received grunts from the bulls in return.
This orgy of violation, combined with the continued cheers from the observes of it, attacked the senses of the six bound and helpless creatures. All the knew was the pain of the piston-like thrusts, the overpowering sounds surrounding them, the strong scent of sex that was so potent they could taste it, and the dizzying sights as they lost track of everything else around them. It was more disorientating than when they were span around, with their bodies involuntarily giving in to the abuse, and delivering to the girls world shattering orgasms that sickened all but those few who cared not that they were now the sexual slaves of these physically imposing males.
And as one might expect, the clenching and spasming of the female’s vaginas massaged the minotaur’s meat rods. The pleasure the minotaur took from this was amazing, rewarding their sensitive, yet powerful shafts with immense gratification. For as bad as this felt for their victims, it felt that good to them, and with enough of this pleasure the inevitable happened. The sacks beneath the men’s cocks squeezed down around the testicles inside them, and with a string of mighty grunts, they released their loads.
Shooting, spurting, the thick white cum poured out of the cock holes, directly into the wombs of each of the bound women. The fluid could be felt within them, filling their depths with a heat that was like fire against their abused internal flesh, serving to make this terrible point in their lives all the worse as the application of the substance on places that were worn and perhaps rubbed raw added a noticeable sting to whatever discomfort they were already feeling. The cum, the twitching of the bull’s dicks, the aftermath of being violated by such massive objects, it left those who had to experience it all devastated, both physically and mentally. Even Nightshade, with all her eagerness, could only give a weary smile as her mind was lost in a sea of ache.
If it had stopped there, then it would have been enough torment for Scylla to last a lifetime, but of course things were never that easy. As she laid there on that bed of cold steel provided to her by this despicable group of rapists, able to do nothing but stare into the face of the one who raped her and take in what he had done to her, she noticed an ever growing pressure building within her. The minotaur hadn’t just came out one large shot that would slather against the insides of her body, he was cumming out several large wads that kept adding to the blob of sperm that was forming within her. With his shaft blocking the only exit, the only thing the sexual fluids could do was merge together and fill the space it was entrapped in, drowning everything else occupying said space. This continued till the pressure made her stomach swell out, visibly expanding till it looked rounded and plump.
The others had also been filled till bloating, finishing off this ceremony with a spectacle that was greatly approved of by the minotaur’s peers. The six chosen minotaur had consummated their ownership over their slaves, the duty that was expected of them was completed. With the five mares and the gryphon hen engorged so much, it was a certainty that their role would be fulfilled. Having no more reason to stay now that the show was over, they all headed to the exits in a disordered, but non-chaotic fashion.
As the others left, the six remaining in the center removed themselves from their victims. The absence of their cocks left a large void in the bodies of the women. The bulges in their stomachs quickly shrunk down as fluids causing them was given a path to escape from, the viscous seed flowing out of each woman in a mess of goopy gobs. The the women themselves, it relief of the pressure inside them was a god sent, and the conclusion of their rape felt far too great for what was a simple removal of what had caused them immense pain in the first place.
Scylla, having been pushed beyond what she believed to be her limits, found herself at a loss for even basic thought. All she knew is after all that, she just felt tired. She wanted to sleep. To wake up and find that this was all some terrible dream. The way she felt, the surreal amount of ease and relief after such defilement, almost made her believe that was the case, but then the minotaur that was her owner brought her back to reality with a grip of her mane.
Tugging it upwards, he glared directly into the kelpie’s eyes and declared sternly to the girl, “You are now mine. Your body, your will, they belong to me. Are we clear?”
Scylla gave a very weak nod back. Even with the adrenaline given to her by this sudden and fairly scary act of the minotaur, she could hardly muster the strength to move.
“Good, now rest. You will need all the energy you can get after that.”
The minotaur didn’t have to tell Scylla twice, and before she knew it her heavy eyelids closed down, turning her world to darkness. Hopefully whatever dreams she thought up would be more pleasant than her current reality, as when she awoke she would still be here, in the Society’s dungeon, and she would still be the slave to a monstrous male.
Author's Note
Took me a little longer than usual, but here is the next chapter ^_^.
Also, since they have been introduced properly now, I think it's time to say who the owner of our guest OCs are.
Charming Tale belongs to The Accursed One Aceofspades69 PolarPuff
Equestria Trainers' Society: Fish Out of Water
Scylla drifted in the sea of her unconscious, exhaustion from her first experience of rape having overpowered her body’s stamina. In her dreams, all that awaited her in the waking world was kept at bay. This realm was a safe haven in an otherwise hostile place. The eye of the storm, one that the kelpie would have greatly appreciated had she the ability to acknowledge it.
In this forced state of rest, her mind was projected a million miles away from those who abducted her. Her dreams had her on the beaches of Haywaii, taking in the sun with Pathfinder, both of them enjoying the vacation like they should have been. It was all there for her; the soft sand, the salty air, and the cool waves that she could almost swear she could feel splash against her skin. It was everything she had hoped for and more, there in that paradise her mind made to comfort her. She couldn’t even recall the minotaur, or the horrid exhibition of the rape she and five other females had been put through, all of it pushed away to a place where the nightmares couldn’t reach her.
This moment of respite was not to last, as the slavers still had much they wanted from the aquatic mare. She was wrenched out of her dreams with a bit of prodding and nudging, which at first she believed was something within her dream. Continued and more powerful shoves brought her back to reality though.
“Huh…? Wha…?” Those were all Scylla could form from her lips as her eyes opened lazily, confusion replacing happiness as the warm sands and blue ocean turned into cold concrete and grey bars.
Scylla was no longer in the circular room with stone seats, no longer attached to the altar. She had complete freedom of movement, but she was inside a sizable cell with three walls and an ‘open’ area blocked by metal rods. She was not alone either, as all five of the other girls that had been raped along with her were there too. Shivering, soaking wet for some reason, fur saturated with water. After awakening a bit more she noticed that she was likewise wet, but her rubbery skin didn’t allow the water to stick like it did her fellow prisoners, as well as insulated her body from the chill the others felt.
“There we go, finally up I see.” The voice came from the other side of the bars, from an unfortunately familiar crystal mare sitting in a wooden chair, accompanied by the minotaur known as Sartek standing aside her. “Thank you for getting her up Nightshade.”
“Y-Y-Your welcome L-L-Lady Tourmaline.” said the mare closest to Scylla, that being the thestral occupying the cell with her.
“Sorry for the rude awakening, but it seems you’re a bit resistant to the usual method.” Schorl kicked a large bucket laying on the floor with her hoof, silently explaining to Scylla why everyone was soaked. “And we needed you up so I could get everypony up to speed and make sure that you’re all on the same page.”
Scylla was expecting the guard mare to deliver a retort to that, seeing as she made it clear that she was the kind of mare who wouldn’t back down from evildoers such as this mare. It was the blue pegasus who was the first to speak up however.
“I think we already understand what’s going on,” Blue Yonder said with disgust toward this mare, though her own shivering brought down her aggressive presence a bit, “You kidnapped all of us and sold us to a bunch of minotaur slavers.”
“Why Miss Yonder, you make it all sound so terrible,” Schorl replied, taking glee in taunting the mare, “But this is exactly what I’m talking about. You really don’t understand the importance of you being here right now. None of you do, save for Nightshade.”
The bat mare gave a bright smile at the sound of her name, taking some bit of pride in being called the smartest pony in the room by the crystal mare.
“Then why?” Scylla said, crawling herself over to the bars to grab hold of them, wanting answers to what could have made the crystal pony do something so cruel, “Why would you bring us here to enslave and raped us?”
“No need to go into mild hysterics Miss Scylla. We have will get to everything in due time.” Schorl answered, without actually answering anything, “For starters, I’m going to clarify that none of you were sold to the minotaur. Your masters work at this facility, help it with its functions, but not a dime was spent on either you, or the tickets involved with the raffle for your ownership.”
“You’re arguing semantics…” Blue Yonder said, draping a hand over her face in annoyance of the crystal mare’s ignorance about the true issue at hand.
“Perhaps,” Schorl replied, “But being that I am a pony in the business of buying, selling, and appropriating pony flesh, I feel it is important to differentiate which of my… trainees actually turn a profit for The Society. As of yet, none of you really fit that bill. Well... save for Miss Midnight, who has been here much longer than the rest of you, and has entertained many a paying customer in our torture chambers.”
“Piss off.” said Midnight, fire in her eyes as she sent death stares at Schorl. For however long the earth mare had been in this prison, and whatever she had been forced to endure, it only seemed to strengthen her resolve to not allow Schorl and those who did business with her to get their way.
“Charming,” Schorl said to Midnight, before returning back to her explanation, “Miss Tale also spent a brief time more in our facilities than the rest of you, as half of you arrived hours at most before the ceremony, but she was here a day ahead of time. She too was given a bit of The Society’s special treatment, but only in a private session with me. Quite the learning experience, I must say. Then again, perhaps I shouldn’t have expected anything else of a pony in her profession.”
Charming Tale blushed slightly, but turned away from her fellow cellmates to keep them from seeing. Whatever Schorl had done and learned surely affected the unicorn more than she wanted the others to know.
“Beyond that, I’ll also have you know that you’re incorrect about the kidnapping part too, as not all of you are here against your will.”
“Are you talking about the bat pony?” asked Gabriella, the rest of the group looking in Nightshade’s direction, all understanding well that she was a willing participant in all this.
“She certainly fits the bill, doesn’t she,” Schorl said, closing her eyes for a cat-like smile, “But there might be others among you that have become accustomed to the way things are here. Maybe I’ve even put a few spies into your little group in order to keep an eye on those not yet trained and tamed.”
Scylla didn’t know if she could trust a single word that came out of this pony’s mouth. Every word she spoke held the intent to cause chaos and spread paranoia. There might have been spies in the group, put there to make sure no pony was stepping out of line, or there could be none and the idea of spies was just brought up to cause distrust. Did it even matter? This was all too confusing for a simple shopkeeper.
“What makes you think that you’re going to get away with this?” Midnight asked rhetorically, the sense of justice she had built up as a guard mare telling her that this mare would never prevail with her vile scheme.
“Ah yes, the standard ‘you’ll never get away with this’ declaration,” Schorl replied, unphased by the statement, “But let’s just take a look here, shall we? In you’re little group we have a guard who is officially ‘under cover’ at the moment, a self ostracized Canterlot noble who goes wherever the wind takes her, a writer who spends months secluded away from the rest of Equestria, a bat mare from another nation who came here of her own accord, a gryphon who annoyed every other member of her race, and a shopkeeper whose friends think she just went on a long vacation on a tropical island. I’m sure that the search parties are being rounded up as we speak.”
The group looked at one another, and then thought privately about everything Schorl just said. None of them wanted to say it aloud, but the crystal mare just listed a bunch of very good reasons why no one would be looking for them, or would even be aware that their disappearance was odd.
“Now that you get why you won’t be leaving here until we say otherwise, why don’t we get down to what it is you’ll be doing here, and what is expected of you during your stay.” Straightening herself up in her chair, Schorl placed her hands in her lap, “Your main purpose is simple enough, and has already been fulfilled in a way.”
“How so?” Charming Tale chimed in, curious about what Schorl had done to them.
“Patience…” Schorl responded, “If you keep interrupting me, it will take more time to explain.”
“Sorry…” Charming said back, though less in a submissive manner and more in an indignant way, further making her stance on all this all the more unreadable. The unicorn was just a little hard to gauge based on outward presentation alone.
“Anyways, you have all undergone the first, and most important stage of your training as a slave. You have all been taken by your minotaur masters, and with that having been done you’ve each been-”
“Knocked up with a bull baby in our bellies!” Nightshade yelled, unable to hold her excitement about the topic. Schorl gave a sigh at the interruption, to which Nightshade turned a bit sheepish. “Oops, sorry Lady Tourmaline. I should’ve let you say it.”
Of course, none of the others were at all excited about this new revelation. For some, the thought of the possibility never crossed their mind. Scylla had been told by her owner that his intent for her was to bare a child, but until now she still clung to the hope that he was trying to scare her. With it now confirmed, the slaves in the cage were in an uproar.
“What do you mean we’re knocked up?!” screamed Midnight.
“That can’t be possible. We can’t be compatible with minotaur.” Blue Yonder added a little panicked, but calm enough to not raise her voice, “I’ve traveled around the world and I’ve never seen a hybrid between bovines and ponies.”
“No, I doubt you would have.” Schorl said, confirming the pegasus’ beliefs. “There are no hybrids between ponies and bovines. Same for gryphons, before that inevitable question is ask.”
“Then…” Scylla spoke up, but her voice was barely louder than a whisper when compared to the others. Still, what she said was important enough that everypony quieted when she said it. “How can we get pregnant if none of us can mix with minotaur?”
“That’s simple, you sweet little kelpie.” said Schorl, “When a minotaur impregnates a woman, the female’s egg is overwhelmed by their incredibly potent semen, and the boy that comes from it will become a minotaur without a doubt. A one-hundred percent, pure blooded bull.”
“That can happen?” Scylla questioned, amazed to hear about this odd trait of minotaur breeding.
“Why yes, and it has to happen that way because of how minotaur reproduce. You see, minotaur can only be born male. I doubt that any of you have ever seen a female minotaur before.”
None of the girls could say they have, but then some couldn’t even say that they have seen any minotaur. They weren’t exactly a common species in Equestria, even if other bovines like cows, bulls, and buffalo were. Minotaur were an odd race outside of these species, and it was a bit of mystery where these creatures originated to begin with.
“That being said, minotaur can only breed with women of other races.” Schorl continued, “Which apparently is a huge problem. Most other creatures in the world are much smaller than a minotaur, and as you all have experienced it can be uncomfortable to get fucked by one of these powerful men, even if precautions are taken to make it as easy on a woman as possible.”
‘Uncomfortable’ was an understatement. The act of having sex with one of the bovines was borderline unbearable.
“Because of this, the minotaur have found it increasingly difficult to find willing participants for breeding, and as a species their race as dwindled. That is until a group of them decided to take matters into their own hands, and started abducting and enslaving women to carry their young. This includes ponies, deer, cows, and whatever other females they can get their hands on. They keep males around too, but only as… personal entertainment and to breed more females to propagate their own race. Honestly it’s a very admirable and ambitious operation they have going on to make sure they don’t go extinct, and one that is helped by, and supports, the operations of my own ventures into flesh trafficking.”
“They can’t just ask a girl on a date like a normal person?” Blue Yonder asked, fairly indignant about the explanation given to her about why she had to be kidnapped and forced into this breeding program.
Schorl was about to respond, but before she could move her lips the minotaur that acted as her bodyguard stepped forward. Approaching the bars to look down on the naked pegasus, he gave a snort from his nostrils, signifying his contempt for the pegasus, or perhaps just what she had to say.
“My people did all they could to make what is a necessary process for us easier for you lesser creatures. We created medicines to make sex less painful and easier to do. We tried romancing your kind and showering you with gifts. We went out of our way to make females feel special, but…” Sartek undid his pants to expose his massively endowed shaft, so huge that it shocked most of the occupants of the cell, especially since it was giant despite not being remotely erect, “When presented with the idea that this would have to enter their bodies, most females would back out just before the act. Every so often a bull would get lucky and find a mare willing to go through the pain, endure pregnancy, and suffer birthing a child not intended for their small bodies. Those few are appreciated for their sacrifice, but were far too small in numbers, and becoming more scarce with each generation.”
“That doesn’t give you an excuse to do this to us.” Blue Yonder rebutted, grounded by her morality.
“Perhaps it doesn’t,” Sartek agreed, putting away his penis, “Many of our species believes likewise that what we do to prolong our race is wrong. However, some of those bulls exist among your masters. Even though they see this as a terrible thing, they know it would be a more terrible thing to allow an entire race to go extinct through inaction.”
“And what about you?” Blue Yonder wondered aloud.
“I,” said Sartek, his voice booming into the cell with so much contempt behind the single vowel word that in made the girls in it flinch by it’s utterance, “Could care less about how any of you feel about this. When I look at all of you, each a representation of of your species, all I see is weakness and inferiority. Were it up to me, you all would be placed in a breeding line, your heads placed in stocks and hips elevated by a bar to allow my men easier access to your snatches. You only serve one purpose now, and that is to bare bull after bull until you can’t anymore. With that in mind, none of you have any sympathy from me.”
“You’re a monster…” said Blue Yonder, believing her point was made, “And if that crystal mare is siding with such a cause, she’s a monster too.”
Surprisingly Sartek said nothing to that and instead returned to his spot next to Schorl’s side, leaning his back against the wall, and crossing his arms. The bull looked pleased with himself, like he had gotten something off his chest that he had been keeping welled up for some time. Schorl also chose not to respond to the taunt directed at her, for reasons the rest of the women present could only assume.
“But wait a minute,” Gabriella said, shaking her head as if in disbelief, “How can you be sure we’re pregnant? I’m not in my cycle, so it shouldn’t have took.”
While this seemed to be the gryphon trying to rationalize a way out of having a baby bull growing in her belly, she did have somewhat of a point. Ponies had to be in their estrus cycle to be fertile, and even then it was possible that some of the group were on the pill and had taken one before they were captured. Scylla herself was having trouble remembering if she had taken her own in preparations for the trip, or if she had chosen to hold off until she and her father had set hoof in Haywaii.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about your heat cycle,” said Schorl, quickly dismissing Gabby’s attempt to escape motherhood through logic, “Minotaur cum is incredibly virile, perhaps out of necessity, and as you all felt it comes in such volumes that it floods the womb. Unless you’ve made yourself incapable of having children by some means, then you have a bun in the oven. Besides, if by some ridiculous fluke you avoided the first attempt at insemination, your master will have plenty more chances to plant his seed, as it were.”
Just like that, the gryphon’s sliver of hope was snapped in twain, forcing her to go silent and contemplate on the future pain she would feel as she pushed out, from the sound of it, a rather large bovine boy.
“I see you all are simply ecstatic about the prospects of becoming proud mothers,” Schorl said, unquestionably sarcastic when every one of the unwilling women had on their faces varying expressions of hate and defeat, none of them seeing this as anything less than the worst form of bodily violation that could have been inflicted upon them. “But I assure you that this isn’t a bad thing.”
“Really!?” Midnight shouted out from behind the cell bars, voice stressed and filled with rage, “I don’t see you volunteering yourself for this!”
Schorl responded with a chuckle, “What I mean is that there are some benefits to being a minotaur’s slave wife. Isn’t that right, Sartek?”
For a second time the hulking male opened his mouth to speak, with much less contempt in his words this time.
“As dictated by the supreme senate of Minopolis, so long as you all behave yourselves, you’ll be well taken care of. Food, warm shelter, and general comfort during your time carrying and delivering your child will be provided to those who do everything commanded of them by their master, as will you receive whatever affection and gifts your masters believe your obedience has earned. No unwarranted harm will come to those who conform to their new roles, and once you’ve proven that you can be trusted we’ll consider returning some of your liberties”
“The only reason we’ll be holding you here, aside for the purposes of training your bodies to more easily go through what is to come and to condition you to be better slaves for your masters, is to ensure you won’t try something drastic in attempt to terminate the pregnancy. You’ll find that during your stay here, every facet of your lives will be planned out and closely monitored in order to ensure the health of your future children, at the expense of your happiness, comfort, and freedom of movement if need be .”
The way Schorl stressed the last part of that heavily implied that this all was something avoidable so long as those captive simply obeyed. That pseudo-promise alone was enough to make Scylla think it might actually be better to just go along with this, and gave her hope that if she was well behaved enough they might let her see her father again. The opposite of that was pain, misery, and bondage, so she would rather not go against them to make a bad situation worse.
“So what about after we’re done ‘fulfilling our role’?” Charming asked, “Are you going to let us go once we birth these calfs?”
“That is up to your master.” Schorl answered, “They might want a couple of sons out of you, or more. I’ll say though that even if they decide you’re too good to let go, The Society does have a program for ‘free range’ slaves, where we allow those who have fully accepted our rules and regulations to return to their normal lives, letting them rejoin the general populous. This comes with the stipulations that the slave gives up their will to their owner, and by extension The Society itself, but I believe the privilege more than makes up for the relinquishing of one’s self to those greater than themselves.”
“Interesting…” Charming Tale commented aloud, before muttering under her breath something that Scylla could barely make out as, “I wish I had my notepad right now.”
After that, the cell went quiet, as did the hallway just outside of it. All questions the mares could think of had been answered, all things Schorl felt they needed to know explained in enough detail that she was satisfied.
“I think that covers the basic tutorial for your stay in The Society.” said the crystal mare, “From this point forward, you will learn any additional rules as you go along. You will be taken to your rooms, and allowed a bit more rest before you are initiated proper into the ranks of our slave stock. Your daily regimen will consist of three meals, eight hours of sleep, daily showers, and a bit of exercise to keep your bodies from getting flabby. This is much better terms than our average slave gets, so please appreciate these extra privileges that comes with both your pregnancies and your continued cooperation with the process.”
“Of course, and how incredibly gracious you are for allowing us these blessings,” Midnight said in a very phony posh tone, displaying well her sarcasm towards Schorl.
“That aside… when you are not in the middle of these small luxuries, you will be doing work for The Society itself. Cleaning, being put on display, serving our members, and so on.”
“Our masters are going to allow others to touch us?” asked Blue Yonder, figuring that the minotaur were the possessive type.
“It is a necessary part of the process,” explained Schorl, “Acting as part of your training. The members, and our personal trainers, are very good at adjusting the attitudes of slaves, and the variety of fetishes they have will get you use to the kind of things your owners will want of you. Believe me, there are some here with much more extreme kinks than anything a minotaur will put you through. Also, allowing members to rent you all is a cost moderation method, as housing, feeding, and care for slaves can be quite costly. The more a members pay for your time and the use of your bodies, the less your master has to pay to reimburse The Society for our services. If they are lucky, they might even turn a profit off you.”
“Besides,” Nightshade piped in, her excitement in her enslavement showing prominently, “We’re already pregnant, so we can have all the kinky sex we want and not have to worry about it. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
“Not that there won’t be some restrictions,” Schorl added, “We of course will make sure that nothing happens to you that could endanger your babies, but some of your owners have also set certain restrictions to your use.”
“Oh?” Nightshade said with worry, her ears drooping slightly at the sound of possible limits to her sexual explorations.
“Don’t you worry Nightshade. Your master has allowed for you to be a Type 1 slave, as well have Charming and Midnight’s masters done for them. That means that members will have full access to your bodies to do as they please, so long as it isn’t too dangerous for you.”
Just like that, the bat mare perked right back up, ”Oh goodie, I was hoping that would happen.”
“Gabriella and Scylla on the other hand, are Type 2s. They can be used sexually, but their master’s have reserved the right to give them any form of punishment beyond a slap on the rear. That means that none of you have to worry about being put into anything that could be painful. Sexual torment is a common kink among our members, so you both should be very thankful for the protection your masters have bestowed upon you.”
“Y-yes… I am…” Scylla said aloud, as if to appease her absent minotaur master. She was happy to hear that the amount of terrible things that could be done to her were once more narrowed down.
“And that leaves Blue Yonder, who is our only Type 3 in the group. She will be allowed to be teased and tortured, to help tame that ‘Wild’ spirit of hers, but will not be allowed to have any sexual interactions outside of that which is provided by her master, with one exception.”
“An exception?” Wild Blue asked, not liking the sound of that.
“Seems your master is permitting access to your mouth for any and all male members who want to stick their cocks into your muzzle. I assume it’s part of your training, and he wants you to learn how to give head like a professional. He might even be hoping you’ll come to like it.”
All the pegasus could say in response to that was “Gross” as she imagined how her mouth and throat were probably going to get very acquainted to the salty taste of penis during her stay here.
“Well, I’ll admit that the flavor of a shaft is an acquired taste, but we’ll make sure you adapt to it as easily as possible.” That being said, Schorl stood up from her seat. “But as I said before, you’ll have a little time before you have to worry. Until then, enjoy your stay in my facility. I hope to hear great things from all of you.”
Finished with her lengthy explanation, Schorl crouched down momentarily to grab the bucket on the floor. Once it’s handle was in hand, she stood back up and walked down the hall, leaving the sights of the celled up women. Sartek stayed behind, giving The Society’s six new prisoners a final once over.
“I know none of you will believe this, but you all just hit the jackpot.” he said without a hint of his statement being a joke, “We are about to take care of you for the rest of your pathetic lives, and all you have to do is not act on stupidity. Think about that when you’re about to do something you’ll regret. It will save you a lot of pain later.”
Having said what he wanted, Sartek followed his employer, the mares feeling the ground tremble slightly with each of his steps until he made it far enough away. Now alone, none knew what to say to one another. The situation seemed bleak, and as far as they could tell there was no way out. Even if somepony knew of something that could help them escape, none of them could really talk about it either, not with the bat pony listening in, or the potential spy Schorl mentioned earlier. Right now all they could do was sit, and wait for whoever would come to retrieve them to come.
Equestria Trainers' Society: Fish Out of Water
“Hey! Let me out of here!” screamed an infuriated brown pegasus stallion at no one in particular.
Pathfinder had been taken far away from Scylla, to another part of the Society’s facility altogether. As his daughter was escorted out of the spa, he had been picked up and dropped off at the place he was now, having been kept there for what felt like hours.
Where his captors had left him seemed to have been built only to humiliate those it held, and those it held were all pegasus ponies. Stallions and mares, all with wings bound in tight leather belts that were inches thick, each trapped in one of the most embarrassing things a sapient avian could be stuck in: a pony sized birdcage.
When Pathfinder came to this room, he was immediately bound in the same way as the rest and tossed into one of these cages by the minotaur who brought him, who then manned one of the many cranks lining the walls to elevate the pegasus dangerously high above the stone floor. Now he dangled precariously from a metal chain, shaking his ovalish cell to and fro as he tried desperately to open its door.
Knowing that Scylla was in certain danger, that their captors were doing something awful to her as he stayed stuck in this place, filled him with uncharacteristic courage, or perhaps incredibly characteristic foolishness. Even if he could muster the clydesdalian strength that would be needed to force the currently locked door of his cage open, made it to the floor without breaking every bone in his body, and somehow reunited with Scylla, he still had no clue how to actually leave this place. Still, he couldn’t just sit idly by as Celestia knows what was happening to his little girl.
Rattling his cage a bit more, Pathfinder rocked it around enough to hit its bottom against the chain of another cage. This cause the object of iron to suddenly jar, disrupting the pony held within in startling fashion.
“Holy crap!” yelled the pegasus stallion elevated slightly below Path, his cage tipping from the impact, so much that his body fell into its bars. “Knock it off up there, will ya!?”
Having endangered another pony, Pathfinder had no choice but to relent. He let go of the bars, setting himself in the center of the straw covered metal plate beneath him.
“Stupid newbies, causing trouble for everypony else.”
“Sorry!” Path yelled down to the other stallion, partially meaning it to be a sincere apology, but also using it to yell out some of his frustration.
“Don’t be sorry!” The other stallion replied, as angry as Pathfinder was, “Just settle down and stop being a problem!”
Pathfinder wished he could settle down, not only with his current anxiety, but with something more personal as well.
Before he had left the spa room earlier, the minotaur acting as his guard and guide had the deer give him a parting gift in the form of a metal ring, which was currently hugging the base of his swollen penis. The does, using an act of fellatio, imbued the ring with some of their odd magic, making the looped accessory glow with it. This made the ring squeeze tightly around his forcefully erect shaft, and periodically made it squeeze again and again to stimulate his cock and keep it at maximum erection. Every time he thought his shaft might soften, the glow on it would strengthen temporarily to keep it rigid. Judging by the patterns of the glow, ones that matched the tattoos he had seen on the deer earlier, Path devised that the ring and any devices like it must need the cervids to power them, which might explain why this group would have gone out of their way to enslave so many.
Path shook his head harshly to focus his thoughts back to what was important, something he had to do several times already since his mind kept wandering back to that ring. It was hard not to, with his stiffie as hard as it was distracting him greatly. If only the pegasus could rub one off real quick, but as tight as the ring was on him, he doubted anything by pre-cum would manage to slip through its grip. Past experience served as an example to that, so he didn’t even bother when all he’d be shooting would be blanks.
“Don’t let Hoops get you down,” said another occupant of the cages, a white pegasus with dark blue hair curled up in the straw of her suspended cell. She gave a long, open mouthed yawn before opening a pair of tired eyes, revealing their emerald hue. “He’s just grumpy. We all get a little cranky from time to time in this place.”
“Cranky?” Pathfinder said back questioning the terminology she gave, as that was commonly used to describe tired foals, not adults.
“Yeah, our keepers don’t give us a lot of time to sleep.” the mare said, stretching out a bit as she rolled onto her back, her slightly below average size breasts pointing upwards, “Usually four to six hours, or at least that’s what they tell us. Heck if I know if they’re telling the truth.”
Pathfinder watched on as the mare placed a hand on her breast and in an ungraceful display scratched the side of it, not caring about the stallion watching her do it. Her lack of modesty had an effect on Pathfinder though, and he found himself looking away to hide the fact that a blush was forming on his face from watching her touch her admittedly lovely body.
“But trust me newbie, you’re not getting out of that cage until the crystal witch wants you out of there. Struggling now will just make you more tired later.”
“I know you’re right,” Pathfinder relented, “But…”
“No buts,” The mare said setting her arms behind her head, making her hands into a pillow, “Whatever reason you think it’s worth draining yourself for, it’s not. If you want to get out of this with any of your own will intact, you’re gonna need to not waste energy on pointless escape attempts.”
“It’s not pointless!” Path protested, seeing nothing about wanting to save Scylla that was in vain.
The mare closed her eyes for a second, then opened them as she turned her head to face Pathfinder. “That came out wrong…” she said apologetically, “What I meant to say was that right now nothing can be gained from exhausting yourself. Eventually, somepony is gonna come for you, and when they do-”
“Their gonna make you their bitch and make you cum as they do.”
“Hoops, for fuck’s sake.” The mare half-heartedly scolded the stallion who had cut her off. “But he’s right. The pony that runs this place, as well as the ‘members’ love to torture us and make us do things for their amusement. If I were you, I’d just cross my fingers that the one that does is a mare whose really into doing it in the missionary position.”
“A-are… there ponies here that are like that?” Pathfinder asked.
“Not that I’ve seen,” the mare replied, “All the bastards here have some sort of strange kinks that they like to use us to explore. It sucks, but we just have to put up with it.”
Pathfinder gulped, and found himself actually following the advice he was given as he prayed internally that he only encountered the mildest of the perverted desires these evil ponies had in store for him.
“Anyways, the name’s High Winds,” the mare said finally introducing herself.
“Pathfinder,” Path replied in kind, “Wait a second, did you say ‘High Winds’? As it the-”
“The Wonderbolt, High Winds.” she said, closing her eyes as she got back into a resting position, “Don’t feel bad for not noticing sooner. Fans don’t usually recognize me outside of uniform.”
Learning that this mare was actually a Wonderbolt troubled Pathfinder even more than he already was, as if these slavers could get somepony as high profile as her, then exactly how much power or influence did they have? This begged a question that Path just had to ask though, as he needed to know what he was dealing with, and how screwed he was.
“D-do you mind telling me how you ended up here?” he asked, understanding that the question might have been insensitive, but found it to be the most important thing he could ask of her.
“How I got here?” she repeated back, sounding as if she was drifting back to sleep, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told ya, but a pair of my flight partners sent me here. One of them went AWOL on an unscheduled vacation, and when she got back they were able to go as fast as I had seen a pony go. A while later she asked me if I’d like to go through the same wing training too, and one of our stallions backed her up. Most athlete ponies would kill for that kind of speed, so I asked for a few months leave. Before I even left though, a group of gryphons nabbed me in my home and brought me here. A little after that I learned that they were connected, and Fleetfoot and Soarin had set me up on The Society’s orders.”
“You’re own teammates betrayed you?!” Pathfinder was shocked. To learn that The Society had their claws sunk so deeply into Equestria that they could set up such an abduction of a high profile pony without being noticed was, simply put, astonishing and scary.
“I’m not sure they wanted to,” High Winds said, “They are probably in it deep with these slavers too. Maybe their brainwashed or are addicted to one of the drugs they peddle here, but I’m sure they aren’t members.”
“How can you be so sure?” Path had to ask, wanting to know how the Wonderbolt could be so convicted about the innocence of her others when put into such a dire position by them.
“Well…” High winds started, sounding a bit too tired to go through a game of twenty questions. She pushed through her fatigue though, for the sake of informing a newbie about the workings of this place, “My owner is Fleur De Lis.”
“The model?!” This all was getting stranger by the minute, with more and more famous ponies being name dropped into having some involvement with this.
“Yeah… she hired The Society to capture me and train me as a slave. She was there the day I came in to examine me as her newest possession, and said ‘her Wonderbolts collection is growing’, or something. Guess that means that she’s trying to make my whole team into her slaves, for whatever reason.”
“That’s… wow…” Path was brought near speechless. Not only had members of The Wonderbolts been enslaved by a fashion model of all things, to the extent that they obeyed the mare and helped with the enslavement of other ponies, but it was an ongoing plot to eventually get them all!? That was crazy, and if he had not heard this under such dire circumstances he would have never believed it. It was just too out there to be true, sounding more like an attempt at erotic fiction than anything grounded in reality.
“A lot of ponies have been brought here this way, through friends that are already slaves, or being sent in the mail tickets to a resort that doesn’t exist, or under the promise of some business venture. If you ask any of the slaves here, you’ll get all kinds of stories about how they were tricked or taken in the middle of the night.”
Pathfinder noticed some other pegasi in the room hanging their heads in shame and despair, thinking back to how they themselves had come to this place. Path’s case was no different really. He was going on a vacation, he had informed all his friends and everypony in Vanhoover that he would be leaving for some time. All it would have taken is one of them to be a member of The Society, or a tamed slave, to have learned of the perfect opportunity to add him and his kelpie daughter to their collection like all the others they had held in their cages.
“Anyways,” High Winds said, picking up where she left off, “Like I said before, you’re better off just trying to rest for now. You’ll need a Society member to let you out of that cage, so until then you’re going nowhere. Trust me, plenty of us have tried before.”
“Fine…” Path said, relenting to the advice of this senior slave. If there truly nothing he could do for now, then perhaps sleeping would at least let time pass quicker. That is, if he could even get to sleep with the raging boner still pestering him from between his legs. Laying back in his straw bedding, he tried his best to push the want to touch and stroke it out of his mind, so he might get some moments of uninterrupted sleep.
Pathfinder didn’t have long at all to attempt to slip into slumber, as not even a minute after he laid down he heard the sound of a metal door opening beneath him, followed by the words “WAKE UP, YOU LAZY WORMS!” being yelled up to him from below.
With all this noise, Path’s eyes shot open. As did High Wind’s, as she let out a near silent groan and said “Already?” under her breath while getting up on her knees.
Pathfinder saw that she wasn’t the only one getting up from their sitting position, as the others in their cages likewise got close to their bars to kneel before them. Curious as to what, or more appropriately ‘who’ could be making them do this unified act, the stallion looked down to the ground floor beneath him.
There he spotted two tiny ponies, at least from his perspective, both mare pegasi from what he could tell, one a beige pony with brunette hair, and the other blue with an orange mane. The two of them quickly grew in size, flapping their wings to come up to where all the imprisoned ponies were.
“I expect to see perfect posture from all of you!” the blue one demanded of the slaves, causing some to reevaluate how they held themselves, and straighten up in the minute time they had before she arrived. “So how about it, Whiplash? See any that stand out to you?”
“I don’t know?” replied the beige mare, flying from cage to cage, looking over those inside as if seeking a puppy from a pet store. “I’m not even sure of whether I’m in the mood for a dick to tease, or a twat to torture yet. Perhaps I should get a better look at their assets.”
“You heard her, present yourselves to this esteemed member of The Society.”
Without a word of protest, the males in the room all scooted a bit forward, pressing their front against their bars, sticking their dicks through one of the gaps to give an unobstructed view of what they had to offer. Some who didn’t have rings like Pathfinder had to rub their crotches against the cages to coax their rods from their sheaths, but in the end they all stuck out proudly despite the shame exhibited on the faces of those who bore them.
The mares, on the other hand, did not press their chests through the bars, but instead turned around, got on all fours, and put their rumps against them. With legs spread and tails raised, both of the holes on all the enslaved females were on public display, a sight that pathfinder himself hated to admit made his own privates twitch with excitement. Even more so as he watched the mare called Whiplash fly from cage to cage, dipping her fingers into the awaiting slits, or stroking off a stallion’s cock a few times in some attempt to test the quality of the sex organs. For as terrible this situation was, it was also undeniably hot, at least for one who has had experience in BDSM, like himself.
As Whiplash went around violating the personal space of all these poor ponies, the other mare floated in spot in the center of all the cages, using her wings to hover at the same level as the highest cages. With arms crossed, the pegasus surveyed everything. She mostly kept to Whiplash, but occasionally shifted her vision to one of the prisoners, like she was the warden among a band of convicts. Pathfinder wasn’t the only one to notice when her eyes drifted away from her associate either, as it appeared that whenever they landed on somepony new, that pony would tense up in response. Even ones that Path thought were turned away from her would do this, like they could feel her attention hitting their bodies.
“Hey, you there,” she said out of nowhere, landing her sights on Pathfinder himself, “I don’t recognize you. Are you a newbie?”
Pathfinder didn’t know if he was suppose to answer that, but to be honest he didn’t want to answer it, so he didn’t. This wasn’t really the best move for him though, as it brought on the direct attention of the mare, who then flew down in front of him. Path wasn’t going to be intimidated by her though, so he just sat there, eyes locking with this blue mare’s with neither of them budging. That was until the mare decided to take measures into her own hands.
With speed that Path’s eyes couldn’t begin to track, she shot an arm into the stallion’s suspended cell. Before he could start to try reacting to the motion, her hand clamped down around his shaft, gripping right beneath his cockhead.
“I said...“ she begun, just before giving her wings a mighty flap while pulling back with her arm. With one of his most sensitive body parts firmly in the hand of this mare, Path found himself following her to avoid an immense amount of pain, only to end up face first into the bars with his shaft still having to endure a bit of improper tugging. “Are… You.. A.. Newbie!?”
“Yes!” Path yelled, wanting desperately for the mare to stop pulling his penis the way she was. As much as he liked a bit of bondage, he was never really the masochistic type, so this attention to his sex organs was not well received.
“What is your name, bitch?!” the mare shouted at him, flapping her wings so hard that she was able to pull his birdcage to a tilt using his dick as a handle.
“Pathfinder!” the stallion replied, caving easily at this kind of treatment. He should have known better after the spa room that those who were part of The Society had little concern for physical torture, or forcing something to happen if they wanted it to happen. If he could go back ten seconds in time, he would have just answered the question freely to avoid all this.
“What kingdom are you from?!”
“W-What?!” Pathfinder cried out shocked, clearly being Equestrian.
“What ain’t no kingdom I’ve ever heard of! Do they speak equine in What?”
Understanding his mistake in not answering her properly, Pathfinder rectified it quickly. “I’m from Equestria! I’m from Equestria!”
“Oh, so you’re from Equestria now? Then I suppose you can understand the words that are coming out of my mouth.” The blue mare flapped her wings harder and harder, looking as if she was trying to make the cage go fully horizontal with her efforts.
“Yes! Yes! I understand! I’m sorry! It won’t happen again!” Pathfinder practically screamed in fear that his dick might be torn off if this continued.
To his relief, the apology got the mare to release him, but that relief was only felt for a split second before he realized his cage was now swinging out of control. It went back and forth, tossing him about with it, and somehow ended up contacting with the chain to Hoop’s cage again. This time however, the male pegasus didn’t see the need to pick a verbal fight with the pony who caused his own prison to shudder. Not when seeing who that pony happened to be.
Pathfinder had to wait awhile for his own cage to settle and when it did the blue mare was still right there to met him. “Get on your knees and present it, bitch.”
Within seconds, Path changed the way he sat to match that of every other stallion in the chamber, now seeing why they took it without question. With a psychotic bitch like this as a guard, it was better not to rile her up just to maintain some bit of pride that wasn’t worth the pain it would cost you.
With everything settled, except for Pathfinder’s now aching dick, the pegasus guard directed herself back to the only other un-imprisoned pony in the room. “You figure out which one you want yet, Whiplash?”
“Not quite yet,” replied the beige pegasus while nonchalantly flicking the cockhead of a stallion who had to just stand there and take it, having paid no mind to anything her cohort had been doing, “To be honest Lightning, they all seem a bit… dull. You do too good a job turning these slave ponies into simpering submissives.”
“How could I call myself a trainer with a clear conscience if I didn’t whip these slackers into shape?” the mare said in what sounded to be a joke, though Path found nothing humorous about that, even if it got a giggle out of the other Society member.
Whiplash elevated herself up a bit more, ending up at the cage of High Winds. “What about this one? She is a Wonderbolt, right?”
“Yes ma’am, I am.” High Winds answered, pressing her firm rear even harder against her bars while lifting her tail high. “And like all the others, I’ve been trained to obey and submit to the will of my betters.”
“Hmph, useless.” Whiplash said, pulling away from the mare immediately I want somepony who's gonna put up a bit of a fight. Something I can personally break in and have some fun with.”
“Then you don’t want a pegasus.” said the mare called Lightning, “Lady Tourmaline has put me in charge of every slave with a set of wings, and I wouldn’t let a single one of them step out of line with me past day one.”
“Then what about this one?” Whiplash said locking her sights on Pathfinder.
“Fresh Meat?” Lightning questioned, creating a nickname for Pathfinder out of the blue. “Sorry, but one minute with me and he’s already too scared to try fighting.”
Pathfinder wanted to dispute that assumption, but his sore shaft made a strong argument for Lightning’s case as it stood on the opposite side of his cage than where he was.
“Hmmm, but he is cute though. Kneeling there, helpless, like a little scared bunny cornered by a predator.” Whiplash licked her lips, wondering if this girlish stallion had been tested out by any of the other members yet. She did so enjoy being the first one to try out whatever new equipment Schorl had brought in. “If I can’t get a pegasus who can put up a fight, then I’ll settle for him.”
“Eh, I would have went for the Wondercunt myself, but it’s your coin.” Adding a bit of a shrug to her words, Lightning pulled out a key and unlocked the cage door.
Pathfinder, noticing that she was going so far as to open the door, quickly backed away to the farthest point away from it as he could get. “Are you crazy?! I could fall out like that!” he said this, but just minutes prior to the arrival of the two mares he had been trying to get the door open on his own.
“Don’t you worry,” Whiplash said in a less than comforting tone, “We will make sure you and your flightless wings are safe.” The beige mare flew upwards, going all the way to the stone ceiling, and put her hands on a couple of grey bricks sticking out from it.
With the slightest of effort, the stone protrusions slid aside, and out from the holes they revealed came a set of chains. Like the ones holding the bird cages, these were incredibly long. Unlike them however, these ones ended in cuffs. Pathfinder was knowledgeable enough to know that the only purpose for those kinds of cuffs was to have them placed on his wrists. What they would be used for after that though, he was still unsure.
As expected, Whiplash came to him with chains in hand, stopping right in front of his open door. “Here,” she said bluntly, tossing the cuffs inside, “Put those on.”
Pathfinder watched the cuffs land in the straw covering the cage floor, and knew that he was going to be forced into them one way or another, but he still hesitated to even reach for them. As poor a position he was in, he didn’t want to just give in to every order given to him by his captors. That sentiment lasted about ten seconds though, as while he sat there looking at the shackles, he started to feel his cage slowly tilt forward.
“Oh no…” he whispered to himself, taking a quick peek behind him to see Lightning holding onto the back end of his cage, flapping her wings to slowly lift it up by that side. She was giving Path an ultimatum, and thus he rushed to get the shackles on before his time limit was up. All it took was a wrapping of the metal around his arms and a joining of their two ends to lock them into place. The clicking noise they made once shut told him they were secure, but in his panic he had to pull against the seams to insure they wouldn’t come apart. To his relief, it wouldn’t come apart. To his dismay, Lightning wasn’t stopping her progress on re-angling the cage.
“I got them on! I got them- WOAH!” The steady incline that Lightning was creating immediately became a sheer drop, spilling Pathfinder out of the cage. He tried to grasp onto something on his way out, but all he got were hands full of straw. Instinct kicked in next, and his wings kicked against the leather belts keeping them shut in order to spread out so he could fly, but the bonds on them were far too strong to break. With no way to stop himself, he plummeted.
Of course with the shackles attached to him, he didn’t fall too far before the chains drew tight, and his body was met with their tight grip keeping them held up against the forces of gravity. The force tugged painfully on his arms for a split second, before the momentum swung his body upwards briefly, putting Path into a light swing. Heart racing, arms sore from his entire body being forcefully weighed down on them, the stallion’s thoughts was filled with terror at what just happened to him. Pegasi could endure such a free-fall easily, mentally conditioned to take extreme drops in stride, but with his wings disabled he was no less vulnerable than an earth pony when it came to the fear of plummeting to your doom.
He was safe for now though, held aloft by the tight grip of his wrist bindings. That had to be the two mare’s plan all along, and he should have realized that they wouldn’t do anything to really harm him, but in the moment a pony doesn’t have the luxury of rational thought.
Now that his adrenal glands were settling down, he could better see that he was just as safe here dangling a dozen feet off the ground as he was in his cage. It’d simply be annoying if he hadn’t just tried to void his already emptied bowels seconds ago.
When he had gotten enough time to settle down, Path felt something force down on the top of his skull, a light but noticeable weight that compressed his neck into his body. Next thing he knew, he was staring into the upside-down face of Whiplash.
“Now wasn’t that exciting?” the mare said with devilish glee, “I doubt that you’ve ever had that much fun in… wherever a common pony like yourself came from.”
“You almost gave me a heart attack!” Path yelled, flailing his legs about to move himself and get the mare off his head.
Whiplash stayed ‘balanced’ though, and continued her taunt of the strung up stallion. “That’s good. That kind of fear gets the blood pumping. Keeps you active… alive. Right now, every part of you is moving at one hundred miles a second, trying to keep up with the danger around you, letting you perceive every important detail in hopes that there is some chance to escape.” With a push of her arm, Whiplash leapt off of Pathfinders head and twisted herself around in the air so that she got back right side up. “Which of course, there is none.”
Whiplash was right about that. At the moment his arms were practically useless, and he was floating in the middle of near empty air. He couldn’t even swing to any of the other cages to try to get some footing, because they were all distances and angles that put him just out of reach of them, which was probably something done on purpose.
“You’ll soon learn that when it comes to being a slave in The Society, you have no control over anything. Your body, your emotions, your thoughts. All of them are things that we guide to get out of you what we want.”
“And what exactly do you want?” Path asked, if only to get her to a point faster.
Whiplash’s evil smile widened, but she said nothing to the male pegasus. Instead, she reduced the pace of her wing flaps, making her sink downward in a slow descent. Pathfinder tried to follow her, but the collar on his neck restricted the extent in which he could tilt his head downwards.
So since he couldn’t follow her, he looked around to see what the other free mare in the room was doing, wondering where she had went after forcing him out of his cell. It took a few seconds to find her, looking all around, going from cage to cage to try and catch her harassing some other poor soul. He found no signs of Lightning around the other prisoners, no patch of blue nor strand of orange hair, but he did spot some of the ponies looking in an odd direction. They were looking above, moving their eyes as if to keep a watchful eye on something else going on.
Looking up himself, he spotted Lightning and what she was up to. She was near the ceiling messing with the bricks, as Whiplash had done before her. Perhaps they were going to drag another pony out to join him, or maybe-
Pathfinder didn’t have time to finish that thought, as his legs were suddenly pulled out from beneath him. Whiplash had come back from below, moving at a fairly fast pace, to snatch up Pathfinder by his hooves. With them in hands, she made no effort to stop, flying so high that it flipped the stallion upside-down as she had been earlier. Once more irrational panic set in, and he tried to fight against what was happening to him. Whiplash’s grip was fairly strong though, and she was able to hold on to him long enough to join with Lightning.
“Nice bracelets,” the blue mare said, commenting on his shackles, “But I think they need some matching accessories.”
Before finishing her taunt, Lightning was already placing a second pair of shackles onto his ankles, and with the same finalizing clicks that he had heard with the first pair, all of his appendages were now encircled by some form of bond. His neck in his collar, his arms and legs in the cuffs, his wings in their straps, and his cock in its ring.
“That looks so much better,” Whiplash said joyfully, beyond amused with the way she and Lightning were toying with this male.
Pathfinder on the other hand was getting further towards the irritated spectrum of his emotional scale. As it was, he really didn’t have control over anything in this, except how he felt about it, and what he felt was that the only way to not give these two what they wanted was to not play into their game. To deny them the satisfaction of seeing his fear, and instead give them cold indifference. With a bit of a huff, he folded his arms together, quietly awaiting what they were going to do next.
“My, my, look at him Lightning. Being all indignant. It’s adorable.” Whiplash said with babyish words.
“Stop it.” Pathfinder said back, being short with the mare in return.
“Stop what?” she replied mockingly.
“Everything you’re doing.”
“Everything?”
“Yes, everythi-” it quickly dawned on the stallion what he was saying, and the results that would come of it. “No wait, don’t!” he yelled, already uncrossing his arms as he reached for the chains around him, aiming for the closest part of it to the ceiling that he could reach.
“Okay then~” Whiplash sung, releasing Path’s ankles.
Feeling his legs released, Path closed his hands tightly in hopes to grab something, but his fingers only barely grazed the metal links as he fell again, the distance between the top of the room and him widening greatly until he was back to where he started, the chains going taut to hold him up while the sudden stop did hell to his arms and legs. They weren’t injured, as pegasi have rather light bodies and Pathfinder was smart enough to grab the chain links directly connected to his shackles after his first failed attempt in order to prevent his body from taking the full force of the impact, but they now ached something fierce under the strain.
Pained and unable to do pretty much anything save for small, ineffectual movements, Path looked straight up to the ceiling, his bonds suspending him horizontally with his body rocking back and forth as he hung limply with his stomach bent forward slightly. It wasn’t the worst way to be bound, the most terrible parts of it being that his entire being was being held up by his wrists and ankles. He could probably relax in such a pose once his joints stopped hurting from the fall. Then again, with him watching the two sadistic mares hovering above him he didn’t believe he’d be relaxing anytime soon, as they wouldn’t have gone through all this set up just to leave him hanging, now would they?
No sooner as his chains settled did the two mares make their move, lowering themselves down as gently as a feather in the wind. The two really enjoyed the attention they received from Path, no matter how negative it was, but of course that was the point. The dominant/submissive relationship was, in a manner, an equal attempt at getting attention from both sides. Both pouring everything they are into another to give and receive the kind of affection and dedication seldom found in a normal relation, though a union of absolute trust in one another.
At least that is what a normal relationship would be like between a slave and a master or mistress, in normal BDSM play where boundaries would be respected and rules would be in place to protect the submissive, as they were the one who by and large had the shorter end of the stick. Here, the entire point was power. The mares were not mistaken when they said that they had absolute control over what happened here. From the very start of their interaction, they had been exerting their will, and proving that Path could do nothing to prevent them from getting what they wanted from him. The more he struggled, the harder he fell into this system of power by giving more opportunities to enforce it. Same for if he didn’t struggle at all, as then he would be showing them that they were in complete control, and that he acknowledged that control as being absolute. In this game of enslavement, rape and domination, the deck would always be stacked in the house’s favor.
“Oh my, it looks like the slave didn’t really enjoy it when he got his way.” Whiplash said as she hovered directly above Path, noticing the pained grimace on his face caused by his stressed arm and leg muscles.
“Then perhaps he should keep his lips shut and let his masters decide what is good for him from now on.” Lightning added, lowering herself to his level to deliver a pinch on his cheek, pulling harshly on the flap of flesh.
“Would probably be for the best,” Whiplash agreed before ceasing her wing flaps, landing her rump down squarely on Pathfinder’s stomach, facing away from him. As the stallion let out a grunt of discomfort, she folded up her feathery appendages as a silent way of telling him that she wasn’t going anywhere soon.
“You get that, don’t you Fresh Meat?” said Lightning, releasing the Path’s cheek, “You’re gonna be a good little piece of dick from now on, right?”
Path closed his eyes and nodded, not wanting to further antagonize either mare for the sake of his own comfort.
“Then I’m outta here,” Lightning said heading to the ground floor, back to the door she came in from.
“Not going to stick around for the show?” Whiplash asked, watching her partner leave.
“I’ve got better things to do than watch two ponies fuck each other. Have fun with the bitch boy.”
“Okay, I will~” Whiplash said to the mare, maintaining a cheerful smile on her face until the moment of the door to the aviary came to a complete close. At the very sounding of the door going shut, Whiplash’s demeanor changed, and while Path couldn’t see her expression shift, the dull and dry way she said, “You fucking philistine” once she thought she was out of earshot spoke volumes.
This confused Pathfinder a little, as he had thought that the two were so incredibly in sync that they were close friends of some sort, but now it was implied that any such display of comradery was only surface deep. Not that he cared what his captors thought of one another, but he felt that maybe he could used this as a way to lessen the torture he was about to undoubtedly experience.
Whatever he was gonna do he have to think of fast though, as while he could not see it, he could feel Whiplash starting to target his dick with her hands. She was gripping it in her palm, squeezing it tightly with her fingers, and digging her nails into the vulnerable flesh of his privates
“So you don’t like her?!” he practically yelped in surprise. “Ahem, I mean… you both seemed to get along so well.”
Whiplash turned her head back to give a sideways glance to Path, hand remaining firmly clasped around his penis. “Are you condescending me?”
“No, of course not,” Path swore profusely as he felt the mare’s hand clench tighter, “But I’m new here and I don’t know a thing about how things work. For all I know, she could be a complete bitch, or-”
“Or I could be the complete bitch?” said Whiplash matter of factually.
“I wouldn’t say that.” Path replied, to which he was glad to feel the pressure on his shaft ease up a bit.
“Of course you wouldn’t,” said the mare. She then reached into the collar of the dress she was wearing, digging around her cleavage like she was looking for something. “Not unless you were looking to be castrated. I suppose it would be a good thing for you to know the social dynamic around here though.”
“I would be very grateful if you explained it to me,” Path was being a bit cowardly by sucking up to the mare this way, but with the fate of his dick in the hands of a sadist, he felt that no one could blame him for wanting to keep it intact.
“Very well, yes. Miss Blitz and I get along well enough. You have to understand though that I only get along with her as much as I would any of the staff.”
“The staff?”
“Unlike me, Lightning is not a member of the Society. She is a trainer.”
Path was kinda confused by what Whiplash said, and had to inquire further, “What’s the difference?” In a group called ‘The Equestrian Trainers’ Society’, the stallion would have figured being a member and a trainer was one in the same.
“The difference is, that while I am an elite member chosen by the organizations headmistress to have the prestigious title of ‘member’ and all the privileges that come with it. Lightning…” Before finishing her sentence, the mare finally pulled out from her bosom the item she was looking for. With a flick of her arm outward, Whiplash let be seen a small wand like object. “She just works here.”
Pathfinder gulped at the sight of the wand, identifying what it was. Being made of only a handle, a stick, and a row of rounded beads impaled through the center on it. The beads were small, a little smaller than a marble each, and they were spaced out with a few centimeter of space in between them. Being yet another thing he had encountered in the kinkier parts of his life, he had to endure the presence of such an item in the past. He didn’t know the name of the toy, or even if it had something so formal, but he knew what it was used for, which worried him greatly.
The mere sight of the object forced Path into flashbacks of the first, and only time prior that he had seen this thing. Some twisted creature in the form of a pony devised this infernal device and then somehow managed to make it a common tool in BDSM play. Anya even told Path that some stallions actually enjoyed what it was used for, but after trying once it he couldn’t for the life of him figure out how.
“Not that you need to know this, since everypony aside from the other slaves are higher up the totem pole than you, but there is a pecking order here that applies to everypony in the Society.” As Whiplash spoke, she directed her beaded stick to Path’s privates, circling it around his stallionhood like a vulture stalking prey, “It goes like this. There are members, then there are trainers, after that there’s the hunters, the minotaur guards, and lastly at the bottom of the barrel are all you slaves, with the trustee slaves only in a slightly higher standing than all the rest of you. A simple and easy to follow ladder of importance and privilege.”
“With Lady Tourmaline at the top, rig- ow!” Pathfinder felt the prick of something pointy graze one of the bulging veins on his dick. Seeing how it didn’t feel like a fingernail, it had to be the wand, telling Path that it had a rather pointy tip.
“Well of course Lady Tourmaline is at the top.” Whiplash said in a oddly chipper tone than it had been during this explanation of the Society’s social dynamic, “She is the head mistress, so that goes without saying. So much so that there is no point -” she pressed the tip of her wand against the stallion’s cock once more to express her meaning, before ending her sentence with, “If we never bring it up again.”
“Ok, I get it,” Path relented, seeing that this mare had issues with anypony being seen above her. Made him wonder if she felt the same about all of the ponies in the Society, and not just the ‘staff’.
“But aside for the members, and Lady Tourmaline, everypony else here is… second class at best. For some that’s fine. You never hear the minotaur or the gryphon’s complain so long as you toss a few coins their way. The trainers though, they sure do get swelled heads about what they do. Not that Lady Tourmaline doesn’t encourage that behavior by giving them full access to the facility and use of all the equipment. That’s for ‘training purposes’, of course, but when you see one in the lounge or in the spa room getting a massage in the next table over, you begin to ask where do standards come into place.”
“Do all the members feel this way?” Path asked honestly wondering why ponies would put up with this discrimination in a hostile environment, especially when the work they did was illegal and could get them in a lot of trouble if they were found out.
“No pony would really think a mere trainer was on par with a member, except maybe the trainers themselves. Sure, some members might hand out tips or the occasional glass of wine to their lessers, but its only to humor themselves, not because they believe they deserve it.”
“Hmmm…” Not having met any of the other members yet, Path couldn’t tell if this was true or personal bias. Not that it mattered to him either way, but it would be nice if The Society really was that dysfunctional. Might make it easier to escape than he first assumed.
As he started to picture fantasy scenarios wherein a riot was caused by some ill mannered Society member offending one of the ponies who seemed to do all the hard work for them, using the distraction to get both he and Scylla out of this place, a certain sensation brought itself to the forefront of mind. The pointy feeling had returned to his shaft, but this time it was not against the side of it. This time it was aimed at the tip of his penis, heading directly into its hole. Clenching his teeth and gripping the chains holding up his wrists, Path made muffled sounds of agony into his lips. He was hoping that he could make the mare have second thoughts about going through with her plans, but it seemed like she was dead set on this from the beginning.
With a solid, steady push, Whiplash guided the wand into Path’s hole. The sexual organ didn’t allow such an invasion of its internal space to happen easily, but the mare didn’t give it much choice to do anything other than give her access. Around the stick, around each orb, the tube that was Path’s urinal passage stretched to swallow it all.
The mare kept at her brutal shoving until the pointed tip made contact with the ring strangling his shaft, sending another new and sharp pain through his body, forcing a single bemoaned howl from Path’s lips. Not all of the object had made its way inside of him, as he could feel one of the spheres resting at his tip, hovering right outside his hole. He wished he could say the same for the ones that were inside him, as he could feel them vividly, each one pushing part of his male meat inwards while bulging out the thin layer of skin covering it outwards.
“It’s such an easy concept, ya know.” Whiplash said now that her bead wand was firmly secured in the place she wanted it to be, “Everypony and everything has a place that they are suppose to be in. A role they are supposed to fill. It’s so obvious that our very culture is built on a foundation of knowing and embracing one’s destiny.”
As Whiplash spouted off her pseudo-philosophical ideals, Pathfinder only responded with grunts and groans, not able to reply with anything more intelligible as the mare had taken to offhandedly twisting the tool in his cock left and right as she spoke.
Being interrupted as she was, Whiplash went on to say, “My cook knows his role is to prepare and serve me food. My chauffeur knows it’s his role to pull my cart. Even my dog understands it’s his role to shower me with affection. But here...?”
Whiplash paused for a moment, much to Path’s relief, but then gave her wand a particularly vicious twist, pulling the stick up as she turned it, just so she may jam it back inside Pathfinder with brutal force. This pulled out one last scream of suffering from the stallion, who’s entire sense of touch was now focused squarely onto what was happening to his poor, penetrated penis.
“Here we have an entire section of the staff who keeps trying to be where they don’t belong. It’s so bothersome.”
Whiplash gave her wings a flap, lifting herself from her stallion seat for a short moment to turn around and face Path directly. “But that’s why I do so enjoy you slaves. You each have a specific role to fill, and even if you believe you won’t slip into that slot we have picked out for you, you always do. Be it servant, slut, furniture, or pincushion, all of you submit and conform, just like a pony of your status should.
“P-please... “ Pathfinder say wincing, “Take i-it out.”
“Looks like you’re going to need a bit more training though before you become the kind of pain slut the sadists of this group enjoy, though.” For a moment Path wondered if that was the role Schorl had in mind for him, to be punished and tortured for the amusement of the members. As dreadful as that premise was, it was pushed completely out of his mind when the mare continued with, ‘But you’re more than pretty enough to please all the faggots with a femcolt fetish.”
That world shattering revelation hit Path like a steam train, with it being a much more possible reality for him since he had already been violated in such a way. Schorl could actually make him some guy’s fuck puppet, maybe go as far as to drug him up more to force him to be pleasured while being raped by males in some attempt to train him into liking it.
Seeing the fear on Pathfinder’s was enough to satisfy Whiplash, and the mare lifted herself off him for one final time so she may begin her descent down to the ground, a delighted smile plastered on her face from this sadistic endeavor.
Path caught what she was doing though, and wasn’t about to just let her go with himself left the way he was. “H-hey! Aren’t you going to put me back in the cage?!”
“No need,” Whiplash replied, “You’re perfectly secure right where you are.”
“Then at least take that stick out of my dick!”
“Ah, ah, you must remember you’re place. It’s not right for a pony of your insignificant stature to demand a pony like myself anything,” she said, touching down on solid ground, “I’ll send some of the help to remove it when I get the chance.”
“Oh for the love of Celest-”
“It shouldn’t take more than a few hours… so long as I don’t forget.”
Before Pathfinder could make any more protests, the mare made her way out of the door, slamming it shut behind her. Now Pathfinder was stuck, stranded in midair, his dick twitching in reflex to its intruder, which only made things worse. However long it took for him to get out of this predicament was up to the people who ran and utilized this place, and he had no reason to believe they would help him anytime soon.
"You alright down there?" he heard from above, High Winds calling down to him now that all who were left in the rooms were slaves.
"I've been better!" Path yelled back, bluntly honest about his situation. "This really freaking hurts!"
"Yeah... I can see that. I really wish I could help you out of that but-"
"I got it. You're in no better position to get me out of this than I am."
"If you want, I can at least keep you company. Keep your mind of things, if that's even possible."
"I... I'd like that." Path said, noting that this was more than a mere gesture from the mare. She was saying that she was going to sacrifice any chance of sleep she had to comfort him in his time of need, and that was something he could appreciate. It comforted him to know that while his time in The Society might be the worse thing he would ever have to go through, he wouldn't have to go through it alone.
Author's Note
And here we are getting back with Pathfinder and seeing what's going on with him. The story is going to be structured a bit like this from now on, where we will go back and forth from Scylla and Pathfinder to see how they both experience The Society. Of course with one being a minotaur's personal breeding mare and they other a general purpose slave, their treatment is bound to be different from one another, and hopefully will be equally interesting.
As per usual, For those who are unfamiliar with the canon pony cameos of this chapter, here are images for both Hoops and High Winds , (Though I beleive the Society would go out of their way to make Hoops look more like his colt form , because he is much cuter with his hair parted to show his eyes
Anyways, hope you all enjoy the chapter. Have a nice day.
Equestria Trainers' Society: Fish Out of Water
“Hrk! Hun! HRRRMM!!!”
A string of unintelligible noises came from the mouth of a certain young kelpie, her mind being overwhelmed by a constant rush of intense pain being delivered to her from the minotaur taking her from behind.
Her master, the minotaur who had won her in a game of chance, had her on her hands and knees atop a wooden platform. His pole-sized shaft was already deep inside her, far enough that his tip was firmly pressing against the walls of her womb, with a thrust of his hips grinding the length of his bullhood against her tightly stretched cervix. When he moved, she felt every bit of that movement, her insides clutching around the minotaur like a form fitting glove, being stuffed so full that she didn’t have a choice to do otherwise.
Another choice taken from her was the ability to run from this brutal fucking, as her head was kept snugly within the confines of a stockade directly attached to the platform holding her up. Trapped between two sturdy wooden boards, there was no possibility to fight or flee, leaving her only with the option to endure.
This event had unfortunately become routine for the aquatic mare, happening to her time and again since her enslavement. As Schorl had explained, there were plenty of opportunities for the minotaur to ensure that each of their slaves would get impregnated, and it appeared like they never missed a chance to make use of their captives.
“How is breakfast coming along, my broodmare?” the minotaur said to Scylla, referring to the large container of sloppish substance placed right beneath her muzzle.
Scylla couldn’t answer that question for several reasons, first being that she hadn’t even tasted it yet. The second being that she was too busy trying to remain conscious as she went into what was her fourth unwanted climax since the meal was presented before her. A massive wash of pleasure filling her being in between bouts of sexual agony, momentarily clouding away all that hurt before it faded away. A small reprieve of bliss that took her senses away from the nightmare for a few seconds before another painful thrust dragged her back into it.
Giving out a throaty moan of equal parts dismay and gratification, the sound of the minotaur’s conquest joined with several other similar moans, as Scylla and her master were by no means alone for this early morning meal. The rest of the ‘Elements of Servitude’, as they had been named by Schorl, and their masters were accompanying them. The other five were lined up next to the kelpie on either side, on hands and knees atop the same platform, heads trapped in the same wooden contraption that formed an extra large pillory, sharing the same breakfast from the same troughish container.
“Your fish mare still having trouble adapting to your girth?” asked a bull who was fucking his bat mare, alternating between being hilt deep and having a quarter of his dick exposed from her snatch, “You indeed got a fragile female if she can’t reply to your question with a simple yes or no. Not like my Nightshade. She knows that even overwhelming pleasure doesn’t excuse rudeness.”
The minotaur cracked his palm across the flank of the thestral, making her reply with a sharp squeal, slightly muffled from the food she was stuffing into her mouth. Gulping it down quickly, she more properly replied by saying, “It’s only because my master taught me well. With his guidance, I’m the best breeding mare I ca- UUHGRBLE!!!” Nightshade’s words were interrupted by a mind blanking climax, biology responding to the stimulation she was receiving by releasing a flood of chemicals that made her whole body collapse under its own weight, her arms and legs not receiving any mental commands to encourage them to continue holding her torso up any longer. The look on her face, bearing a pair of half closed upper eyelids and a quivering smile that allowed a bit of drool to escape it’s opening into the food substance beneath her, was an undeniable expression of pure pleasure.
“Seems like your slave isn’t as well trained as you’d like to believe either.” said the oldest minotaur in the bunch, the one who owned the pegasus, Blue Yonder, “But that’s not a bad thing, really. I’d rather a woman react to my efforts, than to treat it like a leisurely walk in the park.” The slightly greyed minotaur took a moment to halt his own thrusting to put his hands on the dark blue rump of his mare, admiring its fullness by gently rubbing the plump meats. “In fact, Rubric might just be better at pleasing women than you.”
The other minotaur snorted in a huff before grabbing the batmare by the waist. Exerting minimal effort, he leveled her now limp body to the angle it was before it gave out. “What does an old timer like you know about pleasuring a slave? A bull your age is done after the first shot.”
Several of the other bulls got a decent chuckle at the expense of the older male, as did he himself. The comment was little more than good natured ribbing, one coming from a not really serious stereotyping of age. Still, he wasn’t going to take such a statement without rebuttal. “That might be the case,” he said, moving one of his hands to Blue Yonder’s tail, so that he might lift it up and direct its end towards the front of her body, “But there is more to bringing a woman to bliss than the power behind one’s hips.”
With Blue Yonder’s tail up as it was, the hole underneath it was exposed for all to see. Knowing that the hole itself has kept devoid of any substances through use of decomposition gel and the special food they fed the slaves designed to minimize waste, the minotaur had zero reservations in pressing his index finger against Yonder’s back passage, giving the pegasus a moment to realize what was about to happen before penetrating the tight sphincter with his unlubricated digit.
“It is also how you play with their bodies. How you treat every spot of their bare flesh with equal attention, never allowing any area to become used to being teased or used. Sure, you can just fuck a woman into a stupor, but you can’t appropriately break a slave to your will that way. Once you break down their resistance, get them to love your touch and only your touch, only then do they truly belong to you.”
As the older minotaur gave his wisdom out to those younger than he, Blue Yonder was busy burying her face in the mush that was her food. She wasn’t at all hungry, already reluctantly swallowing enough to serve as an appropriate meal, but she wanted to prevent herself from making any sounds that could be mistaken for enjoyment. Not wanting to give her owner the satisfaction, she chose to muffle her voice in the slop as her fleshy ring was finger fucked by a digit that was only slightly smaller than an average stallion dick. The dry, clinging presence of it, coupled with the even larger dick still stuffed deeply within her most private of areas, were both giving her feelings that she would rather not have others see her admit to unwillingly, despite every other mare pretty much experiencing those exact feelings as well. It was the one time she appreciated the straps holding her wings closed, as without them her physical enjoyment of this treatment would be easily identifiable.
“You all talk about pleasuring your women like it actually matters,” said Jupiter, the unabashed bastard of the group, “We are not here to make these weaker creatures happy. They are here to serve us and carry our young, like females should.” He emphasized his viewpoint by releasing his jism inside his guard mare slave, pumping so much cum into her body that she plumped out at the womb. This distortion of her normal proportions made Midnight utter an elongated groan of discomfort, as Jupiter had a way of making any experience with him horrid. Certainly the earth pony had placed herself into the worse position out of the six.
“Well not all of us adhere to ‘Masterism’ like you do.” commented Cestus, pulling out of Gabriella, having poured his own load into her already.
With the removal of his shaft, all he had shot into the gryphon rushed to escape through the now unobstructed passage, coming out in an explosive torrent. As violently as it was, Gabby could show nothing but relief from the removal of pressure from within her body. Its absence was in itself a pleasurable event, the difference between having to endure a constant pain reverting to normality in itself causing a rush of good feelings.
The guttural gasping moan that escaped her beak as the white slime flowed out of her pussy told Cestus that he had done a fairly good job with making the sex good for his slave, even if the best moment of it came when it stopped. “Besides, what does a minotaur like yourself hope to gain from living with a female who hates being around you?”
“It’s not a matter of wanting their scorn or affections. It is the satisfaction of making them know that you are in absolute control. That they are powerless and will never escape your collar, no matter how much they despise it. There is no better thing in life than hearing the lamentation of a woman.” With that, Jupiter pulled out of his slave as well, not even allowing his semen to settle inside the mare, a gesture that made the other bulls believe he cared little about the objective of impregnating his mare, but was using the sex as a means to bring more pain to her.
“Younglings these days…” said the oldest minotaur, “Far too many of you have gained this cruel mindset. I wish I could say I didn’t know where you got it from…”
“But you know quite well where it comes from, Master Longinus.” The group all turned their head to the source of the comment, Minotaur and slaves alike, or at least the ones coherent enough to notice someone else was in the room with them. Who they saw was Xenia, the doe that was widely in charge of the operations of the other enslaved deer as well as monitoring the health health of the six Elements.
“But I think what’s important is that Master Jupiter is doing his part to propagate the minotaur race, no matter what his approach to it is,” she continued, clearly kissing up to the minotaur most likely to punish her if she said something he didn’t agree with. “But if you don’t mind, I’m here to check on my six favorite patients.”
The deer approached the front of the pillory, inspecting over the six trapped slave girls and their current expressions, making notes on a clipboard she held as she passed by each one. “And how were their morning viola- I mean, preparations? Anything not to your liking? Any more adjustments needed?”
“Yeah,” Jupiter blurted out, the first to express any dissatisfaction. “This mare’s cunt loosened up again. Have her re-tightened.”
“Master Jupiter, we’ve reverted her vaginal area twice already this week. I fear that she’s never going to stay as tight as you want it with the way that you treat that hole.”
That made Jupiter laugh, “No shit. I just like the scream she makes when I take her cunthole that way. Really brings out that weak and pathetic mare she tries to hide deep down inside.”
“Very well,” Xenia said, flipping through her pages to mark down the requested adjustment for Midnight, “I’ll add another tightening session to your tab.”
Jupiter snorted at that last bit, but knew that there was a price to pay for his ongoing amusement with his earth pony bitch. Without another word, he left the room, leaving behind the mare he had just ravaged without mercy.
“Anyone else need a few alterations? Breast size augments? Lactation modification? Maybe you’d like their pussies to be a bit wetter to ease penetration even further?”
“Actually,” said the elder minotaur, finishing his own supplementary insemination of Blue Yonder, “I was thinking of having this one’s sensitivity increased.”
“Why of course Master Longinus. What part would you like enhanced? The pussy? The ass? Breasts? Perhaps a full body augment?”
“No, no,” He said pulling out, creating yet another mess that some Society slave would have to clean up later, “All her sexual spots are responsive enough already. But I was thinking that some adjustments to her throat might do nicely.”
“Ah, you’re looking for some elasticity there so she can swallow your dick?” The deer asked, already jotting down some notes for what she assumed would be the minotaur’s order.
“Nothing that extreme,” Longinus corrected, “I want to add a bit of sensitivity there. Enough to spark arousal whenever that part of her is being touched by anything other than her collar. So she might have something to think about when she’s eating or drinking when I’m not around.”
“Ah, so you want to turn her esophagus into a fuck hole, but don’t intend to fuck it yourself.” Xenia said, quickly crossing out her hastily written note to make way for the proper instructions to Blue Yonder’s adjustments.
“You could put it that way,” The minotaur replied, “Though I do intend on getting a lot of use out of those lips and her tongue later on, once she settles into her role a little more.”
Blue Yonder, like the rest of the girls, was far too out of it to give any kind of response. Still reeling from the ravaging of her vaginal passage, recovery was the only thing on her mind, with said hole flinching in pain as it slowly closed back to its normal size, added by the chemicals The Society kept her full of to allow her to go through such a pounding with minimal damage done to her being as possible.
“And anything else? There are still plenty of things we can do to make these ones more to your likings.”
Many of the other minotaurs passed, content with what they had already. However, there was one last request to be made by the one that owned Scylla. Grabbing her thick tail at the base, an action that likewise grabbed Scylla’s attention as the bull lifted it up so the deer could see it.
“I want this changed,” he sternly said to the doe.
“And what exactly is wrong with it, Master Rubric?” Xenia inquired, coming over so she might be better informed on the issue.
“I’ve been having to avoid holding it during sex,” he told the deer, squeezing the appendage just tight enough to get a pained sound out of the kelpie as every muscle she had tensed up, “Its too sensitive, with anything but the slightest touch hurting her.”
Scylla internally protested against that assumption, as her tail could be touched without it hurting, even if moderately gripped, but the minotaur was never not harsh with the way he handled her. All interactions were rough, to the point that it was a wonder he didn’t leave her with bruises. These minotaurs were incredibly brutish, even to those who cooperated completely to their whims.
“So you’re wanting me to desensitize it?” Xenia questioned, “That’s easy enough, but that might be problematic for her later on.”
The minotaur shook his head, “Not desensitize it, but make it so it doesn’t feel pain. The thing goes all over the place when I use her body, so I need to be able to hold it steady. If it is so tender to the touch though, it would be better if it participated in some way to the sex.”
“Ah, you want her to scream in pleasure instead of pain. With a bit of chemical therapy we can correct the nerves there to respond more pleasantly to your masculine touch. It will take some time however.”
“Whatever it takes to have it done,” said the minotaur as he cast the appendage aside, forcing Scylla’s body to shift in the direction he had offhandedly tossed it.
“As you wish, Master Rubric.” The doe responded, giving the minotaur a respectful bow, holding it while the bull walked past her and out the room’s exit after his fellow bovine males. Only when he was out of sight did she break it. “Well girls, one week in and I have to say you’re all holding up well. No major injuries, no permanent marks or scars, and that’s saying a lot for how you’ve been treated, Midnight.”
The six girls ignored the commentary of the deer, some actually occupying themselves by eating their presented food now that they had a chance to focus on it. Scylla herself was scarfing down as much as possible, having already learned that refusing a meal only left a mare with a rumbling and angry tummy later, and that further stubbornness would have it force fed to you via a tube that would shoved down that stubborn pony’s throat, with Midnight to thank for revealing that particular punishment. Xenia had explained when they were first given the slop that even though it didn’t taste too good, it was filled with vitamins and minerals needed to keep pregnant mares healthy. Seeing as they wanted to have her and the others as breeding stock, it was simple enough to conclude that the food was at the very least nutritious.
As Scylla ate her food like some sort of farmyard animal, Xenia assembled a crew of other deer to assist her with the after-mating clean up. They made short work of the mess the minotaurs made, cleaning the six slave girls of sweat along with the gallons of sperm they spilled out of their holes. With a dozen deer and about fifteen minutes the room was returned to its pre-orgy status, moving on to releasing the breeding mares from the device they were entrapped in.
All it took was the removal of a few locks and a lifting of the upper part of the pillory to simultaneously free the group. Necks no longer held, each of the girls sat themselves up to stretch their stiff joints and muscles, having been on their hands and knees for a while. It was all part of morning preparations at this point, with six prior days of experience allowing routine to set in.
Now released, Scylla deviated a bit from this ritual. Knowing what her master had planned for her, she felt the urge to hold her tail in comfort. She didn’t know what would come of having a part of her body changed in such a way, or what part that would play in her slave training. To her, it sounded like he was saying ‘I’m going to hurt you, and you’re gonna like it”. She pitied the abuse her poor tail would probably go through when that was done, but that thankfully sounded like it was a long time away for now.
“Is everything alright?” Xenia said to Scylla, lifting an eye from her notes when she saw one of the initiate slaves hugging one of their body parts.
“It’s… nothing…” Scylla said in resignation, knowing that here opinion didn’t matter when it came to the wants of her owner, and even less so when discussing it to another slave.
“Hmmm…” Xenia said, giving the kelpie a look of concern as she continued to jot things down on the paper in her hands. “If there’s something wrong, I would suggest that you speak with your master about it. You might be surprised at what comes of it.”
Scylla released her tail hastily after hearing the doe’s suggestion, “I said it’s nothing.” She wasn’t about to try and argue with her owner about this personal matter, as she felt the only surprise that would come of it was just how purple her backside would be if she tried to tell him no.
“Suit yourself,” Xenia replied, sending her nose back to her notes, “I’ll not say another thing of it.”
“Thank you…” Scylla said, now a bit angry as well as depressed. Thankfully it seemed she was still allowed to have outbursts and mood swings when they were directed at someone of her same status.
“That being said, I would suggest that you and Charming Tale make yourselves ready.”
What Xenia said slipped past Scylla, her mind on more pressing matters at the moment, but was more easily picked up by the unicorn of the group, Charming Tale. “What do we need to get ready for?” she asked, not seeing herself as going any slower than the others, thus not worthy of any scolding.
“For your debut into your new role as entertainers for The Society.”
All six of the girls froze for a moment, then shot a look in the direction of Xenia.
“Wait a second!” yelled Nightshade, “Why do they get to go first!?”
Blue Yonder followed that up by saying, “Not that I’m in a rush to be treated more like a sex object than I already am, but I’m also wondering why them and not somepony else.”
“Don’t ask me,” Xenia said while taking a moment to make sure the other deer has done a satisfactory job in their cleaning efforts, “Lady Tourmaline just sent me a memo to make sure that both Scylla and Charming Tale were ready and prepared to interact with the members today. So while the rest of you are in your training classes, or in Midnight’s case being adjusted for the third time this week, they will be in the company of some of Equestria’s finest.”
Scylla didn’t know whether to be relieved that she was missing training, or worried she would be in the presence of the members. The training was hard, degrading, and sometimes hurtful work that put her through many different aspects of her new life of servitude. Scylla would be toyed with by some pony who would bind her up and use all sorts of strange sex toys on her. She’d have her butt paddled till it was good and sore, or made to wrap her lips around an extra large phallic object poking at the back of her throat as it stretched her jaw. The only times that it wasn’t like that was when the kelpie was being taught proper slave etiquette, like not looking a dominant in the eye, speaking only when directly spoken to, or to keep her posture straight while always bowing her head down.
Avoiding all that for a day after a week of round the clock education would be great, but then again she had been trained this way for the members. Would they treat her the same way? Would they treat her worse? These answers would only come from experience, but perhaps they were answers she could do without.
A short while later, the six were collected and separated to be taken to their individual destinations, with only Charming Tale going with Scylla as stated, while the others were off for another day of bondage and sexual training. The one that came to retrieve the two mares was Schorl’s personal assistant, Li Min, paired with two minotaur guardsmen. Scylla and Charming Tale had encountered the Kirin before, as she would sometimes be there when Schorl would show up to get a review of the progress the six slaves had made, but Scylla knew very little of the scaled mare save that she acted very professional.
“You are to take nothing unless given to you,” Li Min said, handing out another instruction in a long list of them that she had been saying from the moment she joined with Scylla and Charming, “You will answer every question asked of you truthfully, and while you are going to be granted the ability to speak freely, it is advised you don’t insult or sass the patrons of The Society. Also note that compliments towards the guests are appreciated by them, as are inquiries about how things work in the Society, as the members enjoy it when they are given an opportunity to teach slaves. Makes them feel smart.”
Li Min spoke these instructions as she lead the two girls through the halls of The Society, a large maze of paths and corridors that seemed difficult to navigate. Scylla herself was easily lost within it, with the amount of twist and turns they made, the kelpie swearing that at one point they had made four right turns in a row. She had walked them quite a few times by now, but this was the first time she was able to see the luxurious layout of them, draped in many expensive looking decorations. Before this, she always wore a blindfold, which made it impossible to memorize how to get from one location to the next, a clearly intentional thing done to prevent escape attempts.
“Since this is your first day in one of the showrooms, you’re not expected to perform or provide services to any of the members.” Li Min went on to say, “This is only to allow customers to know that you and, by association, the other Elements of Servitude exist. Should they take notice of you and enjoy what they see, then you might start receiving requests for your use. If not, then we will have to put your bodies on more active display in some stage performances, which I will say now will be much worse than if your time is purchased for a private session.”
“So you’re saying that it’s in our interest to make ourselves desirable.” Charming Tale said, very astute as to how Society lingo implied punishment from failure to live up to the standards they wanted from their slaves.
“Yes, as the more money you make for your owner, the more they might be inclined to give you breaks and time off from your duties. Remember, your scheduling is always handled by your master, and The Society’s part in that are only suggestions made by Lady Tourmaline. So unless your master is particularly cruel and uncaring, then they will certainly grant such rewards to those who deserve them.”
“Then I guess Midnight is fucked then,” Charming joked, managing to get the two minotaurs following behind to laugh at the comment, clearly aware of who Jupiter was and how he behaved.
“I’d say Miss Midnight brings a lot of her misfortune on herself,” Li Min said, giving her own observations, “But Master Jupiter’s motivations might not help either. Of the lot of you, those two might be the most incompatible, while being the most made for one another. Jupiter couldn’t have gotten a better slave for his style of dominance.”
“How true,” Charming Tale agreed, “Their personalities oddly compliment one another.”
Scylla stayed silent as the two mares had this strange conversation. The way they talked about another pony’s misfortune and suffering was like two mares gossiping about an average couple. Maybe this wasn’t so odd for Li Min, who had been a slave for who knew how much longer than Scylla, but Charming Tale’s adaptation to this was not as understandable. While most of the others acted like what Scylla would expect from abductees, with anger, indignance, or at least timidness, the unicorn was far more accepting and visually comfortable as a slave than one would think a week should allow her to be.
“Let’s get back to task here,” said the kirin, “We’re approaching our destination, and I need to be sure you both will do as your suppose to and not cause trouble.”
“Relax,” Charming reassured, “All we have to do is walk in there, show off our bodies, and put ourselves out there without actually putting out. That’s easy enough, if you ask me.”
“I suppose we’ll see,” said Li Min, “But our members have very particular tastes. Don’t think that acting like a slut will entice all of them, if any of them.”
“Don’t worry about us,” Charming said, wrapping an arm around Scylla to pull her close, “I’m sure we can handle it, right Scylla?”
“R-right...” answered the kelpie, having no real input on this conversation she was suddenly dragged into.
“At least you’re confident, and good thing too. We are here.” The small entourage of equines and bovines came to a set of dark wooden doors, behind which awaited the depraved and perverse slavers that made up The Society. “Wait here for a moment. I’m going to give a brief introduction and then bring you both in.”
With that the kirin slipped through the doors, letting them close behind her. In the few seconds that they were open, Scylla was able to hear music and a slew of voices from within, but now that they were shut again she only heard silence. There was no telling what was going on in there, and thus no telling what would happen to her when she got in there. Why is everything in this place designed to make me more nervous? She thought to herself, shaking with fearful anticipation.
“So what’s the plan once we get in there?” Charming asked an unfocused Scylla, “Are we gonna stick together and use our combined charm to wow them, or do you want to split up and go solo?”
“Huh?” Scylla said, hardly catching any of that, “I suppose whatever you want to do is fine.”
Charming hummed at the kelpie, catching on to how disquieted she was. It was something she probably should have detected sooner, but she was busy mingling with Schorl’s secretary. “Pardon me, but it’s Scylla right?”
Scylla nodded in reply, not taking offense that Charming had to ask.
“Well then Scylla, this is going to be a really stupid question, but… What’s wrong?”
Charming was right, that was a pretty stupid question all things considering, but not wanting to be rude the kelpie answered the unicorn. “Everything is wrong.” she started, fighting back tears, “I’ve been kidnapped and raped, I’m probably pregnant, my father’s been taken away, and now I’m going to be paraded in front of a bunch of rich bastards so they can decide if they want to rape me later.”
“You poor dear…” Charming pulled Scylla into a hug, the aquatic mare’s shoulder slipping between the pink mare’s cleavage, “This must be terrible for you. You seem like such a meek pony, and this sort of stuff can’t be good for your stress levels.”
Scylla’s lips curved downwards, forming a solid frown on her face, “I just don’t know what to do… I know I shouldn’t just cave and give up, but I’m not strong like Blue or Midnight. I can’t keep a strong stand against people who keep abusing me.”
Charming could tell the other mare was going to break down and cry if she didn’t do something. Seeing how she was behaving, it was likely not the first time she would have since coming to the Society. She knew though that if Scylla did that, and walked in with tears on her face, it would be over for the girl. Any sadist in the room seeing Scylla distressed and distraught would smell blood in the water, painting a target on her that would never go away as long as she was stuck here.
Problem was that this wasn’t exactly her area of expertise, and even now she was finding it hard to comfort the girl. She wasn’t exactly a ‘people pony’, having her own issues when it came to dealing with others in general. Her occupation hardly had her talking to others, save for her boss, and she really preferred it to be that way. Charming wasn’t anti-social, more socially awkward and introverted. Just holding Scylla like this took a bit of effort on her part, and the way she had talked to Li Min earlier was a trick she learned to do when having to confront others. Starting the conversation, sticking to a topic the other pony would be interested in, and presenting a generally positive attitude no matter how the conversation went. This was a trick she believed could work with Scylla as well.
“Believe me, I understand exactly what you’re going through. This place scares me just as much it does you, but I have a little trick that keeps me in high spirits. Want to know what it is?”
“What?” Scylla asked, curious as to what anypony could do to not fall into depression in this dismal place.
“Well…” Charming looking back a moment to the minotaur behind her, noticing that they had moved a little bit away, not needing to be right next to the two mares to make sure they wouldn’t run away now that they were stuck between them and a door. Charming herself didn’t really care if the minotaur were five feet or five yards away, but turning her head in that direction made Scylla do the same, getting her to see how far away as well.
With their range confirmed to the kelpie, Charming engaged in part two of her plan. Using the arm she already had wrapped around Scylla’s body, Charming bent her associate forward, hunching over as well as she got real close to Scylla’s ear. “Okay, but we gotta make sure they don’t hear us. Who knows what they would do if they figured out such an important secret.”
With such importance attributed to what the pink unicorn had to say, Scylla was instantly hooked. No matter how skeptical she might have been that anything could change her mood as long as she was in The Society, when treated as if it were one of the Equestria’s most guarded secrets she had to know.
“So what is the secret?” Scylla asked in earnest, eager to know.
Charming got really close to the mare’s ear to whisper into it, giving one last glance back to the guards. As expected, they really weren’t too interested in the antics of two slaves. As long as they stayed put, the mares could talk and mess around all they wanted. This was good for Charming, as she didn’t need them cutting in and making Scylla all the more scared.
“Whenever I have to be around any of the trainers or the guards, and they make me scared, I just picture them naked.”
“What?!” Scylla said in surprise, not having expected that to be the unicorn’s solution. Of course she had heard of this alleged method of dealing with one’s nerves before, but she thought that it only applied to stage fright. It was so bizarre that Charming would suggest the same thing to deal with sexual abuse too. The more she thought about it, the more she felt it was a silly thing to say. So silly that as the seconds passed by she found herself snickering, then giggling, then finally giving out a decent sized laugh.
Charming let Scylla go, happy with the results she achieved. Of course she didn’t believe that picturing their rapists naked would make them feel better. Such a notion would be entirely absurd. Absurdity was the cornerstone of humor though, and what Scylla really needed was a laugh. Something to break through that depression, and allow the kelpie to smile again after all she had been put through.
“Feeling better?” Charming asked, already assuming the answer was yes.
“A little bit,” answered Scylla, getting that this whole thing was just a joke now that she was struggling to hold in her emotions, “It does feel good to laugh.”
“Good, then I’ve done my job,” Charming said with a smile, making conscious decisions to do so in order to keep Scylla from relapsing.
“But...” Scylla said, sobering up from the joke rather quickly, “How do you really keep from getting depressed in a place like this? About the only other person who acts close to what I do is Gabby. I can tell that Blue and Midnight are just putting on a brave face for the rest of us, and we all know that Nightshade has been brainwashed, but what about you? Aside from looking nervous the first time I saw you, you’ve seemed to be ok with all this. How doesn’t this bother you?”
“I suppose it just comes with my profession.” Charming said offhandedly.
“Your profession?” Scylla asked, wondering what kind of job could get somepony used to being enslaved and impregnated against their will.
“Yeah, I’m a writer,” the unicorn explained, “I create stories for a small book publishing firm that caters to ponies with special interests.”
“Books that involved slavery… and rape?”
“Yeah…” Charming said, rubbing the back of her mane as her shyness returned slightly. It was never easy to explain what she did for a living, “Though I suppose you say I put a romantic twist to the whole thing. Like, I’ll write a story where the princess of some fictional land has her kingdom overtaken by some dark lord. As part of this, he keeps her as his personal slave and forces her to do things for him. Sing songs, feed him fruit by hand, and have lots of sex. Some ponies really eat that kind of stuff up, especially if the princess ends up falling in love with her captor and enjoying the way he treats her.”
Scylla was surprised to hear that. Not because she thought it was strange that a pony would be into that kind of stuff, but because she was a pony who was into that sort of stuff. From the very beginning she compared her situation to those kinds of books, because she had quite a few books of that nature stashed away in her room back home, except real and terrible when the books were made up and thrilling.
“Y-You… w-write about mares getting raped?” she nervously asked, shocked by this information, but curious about such a pony.
“Not always mares,” Charming clarified, “Sometimes I’ll put a stallion with some evil mare and give him the slave treatment. And it’s not always some tyrant on top either. I like to change it up a lot. Sometimes it will be something like one pony being stalked by a love sick stalker who decides to make their obsession theirs by force. Other times I’ll have a royal guard get caught during an investigation by some gang of ponies who wants to teach them a lesson. Other times I’ll have the antagonist slip a love potion into some chocolates and hand them out around a town just to see the results. And other times I just write something romantic with a slavery theme to it, because I just like the topic.”
“Do you mind if I ask you one more thing?” Scylla said, now seeing that this erotic writer has been into this sort of stuff for a while, and didn’t really seem ashamed of any of it. Honestly, she had never talked to any pony so openly about being attracted to those kind of erotic tales. Not even the pony who sold her such novels, because Scylla found it embarrassing enough to buy them in the first place.
“Go for it.” Charming replied, once more showing no inhibitions towards the topic. If anything, she acted somewhat pleased to talk about the subject.
“What got you into that sort of stuff?” This was a question that Scylla asked herself often, as things like bondage and dark erotic fantasy was certainly not something a normal pony should enjoy. Yet when she stumbled upon her first story of the type, one of some rich stallion luring an unsuspecting mare into a life of sexual servitude, where said stallion treated the mare in question like property, demanding everything from her while giving little in return than mere attention, it triggered something inside her. She never understood why though, and questioned it even more when put in a similar situation.
“Well… I suppose it all started a while back. Being a writer, I was naturally drawn to reading. I use to read all kinds of books and one day I found my way into the romance section of the town library. I might have been a bit young for those kind of books at the time, but it was so far in the back of the building that no pony really noticed. From there I just eventually discovered the whole ‘slave and master’ stuff on my own, and from there I kinda just started writing my own stuff. Started off with a few stories using ideas from things like the Power Ponies, or having Starswirl do some kinky stuff with some of the villains he historically defeated, or had Princess Celestia in the hands of some dark and dashing evil prince.”
“That sounds interesting.” Scylla commented, not expecting such an in depth explanation of the details that lead to this path for Charming.
“As a bunch of secret projects, it was. One time though I accidentally sent a copy of one of those to my publisher instead of the manuscript I meant to. I rushed to get it back when I figured out my mistake, but by the time I got there my publisher had already read it.”
“Oh dear!”
Charming Tale laughed, “Yeah, I thought I was screwed. My publisher of course said that she couldn’t use it, but before I could explain they said they knew somepony else who might be able to. I was stunned, but before I knew it I was dragged to another publisher, and became a writer for erotic novels. We had to change a few things of course. Couldn’t use copyrighted material or real people for legal reasons, but all it took was a few name edits and some small additions to fix all that.”
“That really sounds incredible.” said Scylla, the tale having enthralled her.
To believe that such a thing could happen from writing out sexy stories, and to think somepony like Charming was the kind of pony to write such things. She didn’t know why, but she always imagined writers of such stories to be creepy stallions who didn’t know the concept of personal space and were the types to spy on mares through peep holes. Not only was Charming a mare, but she seemed genuinely nice, especially once Scylla was able to talk to her on a more personal level.
“So I suppose that’s why I’m not too phased by all this,” Charming went on to say, “As I’ve fantasized about this kinda stuff a lot before my capture. Not that I want to be here, mind you. I’d rather be back at home, writing my next novel, and not expecting to birth a minotaur in a few months, but right now I’m just picturing this as one of my stories and I’m one of the characters.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Scylla asked.
“Not really, but what are ya gonna do?” Charming shrugged off, “Better to see this as a kinky vacation than treat it like pure torture. Besides, if we do end up getting out of here I’m going to have lots of material for my next novel. Some writers would kill to have this kind of personal experience when it came to the topics of their stories.”
Scylla wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be a joke, but luckily she was spared from an awkward laugh by the return of Li Min.
The kirin came back through the doors, showing little expression on her face. “It is time you two. Go in there, greet the members, and then do your best to make them like you. “
Scylla was still apprehensive about going in to meet those who would want to rape her, but Charming took her by the hand and started walking in. “Don’t worry about it,” she reassured, “Just remember all the things I told you and you’ll be fine.”
“R-right…” Scylla replied, moving her hooves to follow the unicorn through those doors. Maybe Charmings tips would help. Maybe she could pretend to be one of the characters from her lewd books and put herself elsewhere, pretend that she was somewhere else, or that she was on vacation. It probably wouldn’t make her feel all that better, to be honest. If all else failed though… she could always pretend all the members were naked.
Equestria Trainers' Society: Fish Out of Water
Scylla and Charming Tale stepped out of the hall and into a brand new area unlike any of the others they had been in before, one that looked to be modeled after a sleazy night club. It was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from some strategically placed neon fixtures that bathed the room in different shades of colors, perhaps to lead patrons of The Society from one area to another. A short glance from one light to another gave Scylla this impression, due to the things she spotted in each spot.
A section bathed in red had several small pole-dancing stages set up, each occupied by a pony who was actively trying to keep the attention of those seated around them, a job not made easy with the new arrivals. Under a blue light was a bar where a mare wearing a collar was serving drinks like any ordinary bartender, giving a shot of scotch to a stallion wearing an expensive looking suit as he stared at her naked body from the opposite side of the structure separating them. A green section was reserved for tables in the center of this large room that served as a dining area, with even more slaves walking around in uniforms made to look like skimpier versions of waiter and waitress would wear at a fancy restaurant, with breastless shirts, crotchless pants, and skirts with cut out fronts, none of which were restricted to a single gender.
At the opposite side of the entrance, there was the purple section. It held a rather large stage that was currently empty, but no doubt was where the public performances that Li Min talked about earlier where held. From the way she described them, Scylla wanted to stay far away from that location for as long as she was a slave, never wanting to be up there and tormented for the amusement of The Society’s sadistic members.
There were a few other color-coded locations, but Scylla had no time to try and figure out their purpose. She had already been standing at the room’s entrance for a few minutes, as had Charming, and by this time others in the room had started to gravitate their attention towards them. Many, but not nearly all, had left their seats to come and greet the two slaves personally. Mares and stallions, all members of The Society that were interested by this new treat offered to them.
“What do we have here?” asked the first pony to get within a foot of the mares, a clydesdale stallion whose size was between that of a normal pony and the minotaur the girls had gotten so acquainted with. Cupping his chin in one hand, and the elbow of that arm in the other, he started his own evaluation of the two girls as others gathered around. “That kirin said we were in for a treat, but I don’t think any of us were expecting this.”
“They certainly are a sight to look at.” said another stallion, having already made his assessments of the two, liking very much what he saw.
One by one, the ponies came up to them, but all stopped roughly a foot away or more as they came to take a look. The distance was odd, and a little unnerving to Scylla, mostly because up until this point no one at The Society respected any kind of personal space. Here in this room though, one filled with rapists, kidnappers, and slavers, all were keeping a respectful distance.
“Forgive me for asking, but are you a seapony?” a mare asked in a pompous tone, one wearing a fancy and formal dress that Scylla wouldn’t have expected to see in a place like this.
Remembering that she was supposed to answer questions, Scylla tilted her head down a little, placing her vision on the hooves of the members, and said, “I’m a kelpie.”
“A kelpie?” a member questioned aloud, “I’ve never heard of that before. Is that some sort of mix-breed?”
“Don’t say that!” a female member scolded, giving the questioner a hard smack on the chest, “Do you know how rude that is?”
“Kelpies aren’t mix-breeds anyways,” another corrected, “They are more like a fresh-water version of sea ponies. Interesting that Lady Tourmaline managed to get her hands on one though. They tend to be reclusive.”
“Well this one does seem to have a bit of shyness in her.” commented the mare who originated the conversation on Scylla’s species. “Just look at how she retreats behind her friend.”
Unbeknownst to Scylla, at least till the mare brought it up, she had unconsciously tiptoed over behind Charming. Becoming aware of this only compounded the embarrassment, and forced a blush to her face that she could feel as the heat rose in her cheeks, which of course only made her embarrassment worse. She was so self conscious about being the center of attention that she felt like a bashful child being introduced to a group of strangers, finding herself unable to do little more than hide, quiver, and speak small replies when spoken to.
Luckily she had a more brazen friend at her side who was not intimidated by the size or bluntness of this crowd, or at least had the ability to hide it much better than Scylla could. Seeing that Scylla’s timid nature couldn’t be helped, Charming would just have to make herself stand out even more.
“Hey, I know my friend here is super cute,” said the pink unicorn, taking a step forward, “But she’s not the only one here. How about sending me some of that attention too?”
With a wink and a sashaying of her hips, she stepped forward to put herself center stage before the members of The Society. While it might have been strange to say, she had dealt with ponies of this type before. Not slavers and outright rapists, but those who were perverse enough to ‘play’ at the roles. Several times when she went someplace to publicize one of her books, it would take place in some secretive and isolated events where the attendees openly flaunted their sexual fetishes. While nothing bad ever happened at these places, the unicorn had worried the first few times that she would end up in a situation much like the one she was in now. Charming wouldn’t be too surprised if she saw some vaguely recognizable faces here, as either a slave or a member.
“Hmmm…” One of the stallions hummed aloud, considering if this mare was worth his time when a much more exotic slave was just behind her, “What do you all think? Is this one worthy of being called an ‘Element of Servitude’?”
“She does have a nice figure,”, said another male, “Slim and slender, but lacking in muscle tone. And her breasts… By the look at them, they are barely an A-cup.”
Charming had to force herself to smile through those jabs. Where Scylla was getting back to back compliments because of her species, it felt like she was mostly getting criticized. The unicorn liked to believe she didn’t care what people thought about her appearances, being the pseudo shut in writer that she was, but no woman ever wanted to her that their body was sub par. Sure, her chest was a bit underdeveloped, but her tits weren’t so small that they couldn’t be considered below an A. She swore that one of her ancestors must have been a pegasus to curse her breasts with such an unimpressive presence, and for just that moment wished that they could inflict on that potentially non-existent great parent the same embarrassment she was feeling just then.
“I think you all are being too judgemental of the girl,” said a mare, “A petite body structure can be very appealing in a slave.”
Charming’s irritation lifted a little at the opinion of this new mare, who clearly was a cut above the rest when it came to understanding the worth of another mare’s body. For a moment, she didn’t care if this member was a disgusting rapist who might pay to have Charming lick her snatch clean. At least she had the ability to see the beauty that was to be had from not having watermelon sized boobs.
“Small breasts give off a very youthful appearance in mares,” she went on to say, “And it’s always nice to have some young, adorable thing around to complement your own, more mature features. ”
And just like that, all faith in this mare was shattered for Charming. She could feel her admiration vanish like somepony had flipped a switch inside her, turning it into a mild loathing for this pompous mare. How dare she say that her youthful body was ‘adorable’ and imply that it lacked maturity. Once more she had to stifle herself from revealing that these opinions impacted in a personal way, even though she wanted to give each of these ponies a good punch in the gut.
“It would be really cute to have a girl like her around the house in a maid uniform.” An earth stallion aside the mare stated, a bit too gleeful with his idea, “Having her dust the shelves and bring me food, scampering about to complete chores, then giving her a pat on the head as a reward upon completion. It would be such a darling sight to see.”
As the group went on and on about how cute and adorable Charming was, she could feel the frustration inside her build till the smile she wore on her face to hide it became obviously fake. Not that the Society members noticed, as they were all too busy going back and forth with each other, humoring the ways that they would belittle a mare like Charming by treating them like some sort of indentured serving filly. From doing dainty chores, to reciting poetry, to playing a flute or a harp, each idea floated around just having their own cute girl to just have around to look nice.
Never did this vear into sexual connotations either, with the closest thing to that being some humoring the idea of playing dress-up with such a mare. If it were Nightshade in her place the bat mare probably would have complaints about how none of these ponies, who had been hyped up to be depraved molesters, were not treating her like a piece of meat and trying to bend her over to fuck her on the spot. She never expected to have feelings like that herself, but with her pride hit she kinda wished that at least one of the ponies would say something about her sexual worth, and not that she was just something to have around for her appearance.
“Well enough of this mindless prattle.” said one more of the ponies shrouded by the dim lighting, “These two have received more than their fair share of complements. We really should be getting to the real purpose of this encounter.”
“The real purpose?” Scylla asked, still trying her best to hide behind the confidant unicorn.
“Yes,” she heard the voice reply, “This is suppose to a learning experience for the two of you. Call it your orientation. During your time in here, you’ll learn much about what it is to be a slave in The Society.”
“At least when it comes to the club rooms.” added a mare.
“Rooms?” Scylla said, catching the use of plural, “As in ‘more than one’?”
“There are several areas like this one, with perhaps some small variance between them. It allows for multiple events to happen at the same time, if needed, and if one room needs clean there are a few more that we members can go to instead.”
Scylla could follow the logic of having several rooms like this, but what they had trouble with was where all the bits came from to make them all. This one alone looked to be a small fortune in its design, and there were more just like it somewhere else in this facility. The members of this organization were wealthy, but Lady Tourmaline must have been richer than Princess Celestia in order to create an elaborate and extravagant den of debauchery such as this. If it was made this way to draw in customers, then Schorl surely had lost out on more money than she could ever recover. It made it look like the crystal pony had a poor mindset when it came to business, but this whole thing could have just some kind of expensive personal hobby that she was willing to share with others for a price.
“So my two lovely ladies, shall we begin?” the stallion asked, his question being rhetorical as the two didn’t really have a choice in the matter.
“Might as well.” replied Charming, taking Scylla’s hand in hers, “But is it ok if my friend and I stay together? So we can get the same information and share our notes.”
“How cute,” the stallion said, once more hitting that sensitive button of Charming’s, “You two are free to stick together if you want. None of us are going to pull you apart when we don’t have permission to use you.”
Hearing that calmed Scylla a little, knowing now that at the very least she would have somepony she knew nearby at all times. That Charming called her a friend also helped, instilling some trust towards the unicorn inside the kelpie.
“Follow me then, and pay close attention to everything I say. Don’t want to have to repeat myself.”
Some of the other members gave slight mutterings of how they wanted to be the ones to guide the two slaves around, but most were happy enough to let the more vocal stallion take charge of the two new slaves for now. They had already gotten what they wanted out of this meeting, which was to see the new meat that would soon be on the menu. The crowd dispersed rapidly now that somepony took up responsibility for Scylla and Charming’s introduction into their servile education, with a large percentage of the ponies returning to their seats to enjoy the things that brought them to The Society in the first place this day, leaving only a few to follow the stallion and his newly acquired slave entourage.
With the entrance doors closed, and having spent a good amount of time peering into the darkness, Scylla and Charming adapted their eyes to the dim lighting of the club, everything had a shaded hue to it, but they could easily see everything at this point. The stallion ahead of them was a pegasus, one with either a dark blue or black coat. There really was no telling which with all the different colored lights in the room causing colors to mix. Probably an intentional design to obscure the identities of members if one of the slaves ever managed to escape. Same went for the color of his wave, short cut mane, which could have been practically any light color as it seemed to change colors as they walked by different sections of the room.
“To begin our tour,” the stallion said, walking into the the place where all the tables had been set, “We have the serving area. This is where you will be assigned if you do a good job, bring in customers for private sessions, and make your owners lots of money.”
The stallion pointed through the tables, landing his finger on a mare walking from table to table with a tray in her hands, a uniform on with a short skirt that barely covered half her upper thighs on her body, and worry on her fairly pretty face. One look, even at a distance, could tell anypony she was fearful of what could happen to her in this room.
“While serving food and drinks to the members is the main job of a waitress or waiter, some are given bracelets like that one to let members know that they’re free to touch.”
Hearing this, Scylla and Charming were able to spot the bracelet the pegasus was referring to, it being wrapped around her right wrist and sporting a rather large, diamond shaped gem on it.
“They are locked onto your arms, and cannot be taken off without a key. They were changed to be this way after a few slaves thought it would be a good idea just to remove them. Not only were they punished, but they caused Lady Tourmaline to design these better bracelets because of it.”
As the two initiate slaves watched on, the members who were keeping an eye on them began to figure out exactly who they were being directed to observe. Not wanting to mislead the girls on how free use waitresses were used, a few of them started to use the liberty granted to them by the establishment to fondle the mare as she passed, slipping a hand between her thighs to graze her flesh, planting firm grips on her ass, or going so far as to put their fingers under the miniskirt of her uniform to press their fingers against the folds of her pussy.
The waitress did her best to ignore the molesting hands attacking her body, so that she may do the job forced on her by this establishment, clenching her body to harden herself against the touches while shutting her eyes to tone out everything happening to her. That only got the members more interested in her though, seeing this mare’s resistance as an amusing game, one that others in the room were starting to catch onto. All across the serving area ponies would call on the waitress to take an order or for refills on drinks, forcing her through a gauntlet of hands that were caressing and stroking any part of her they could reach while seated.
It was amazing how quickly it went from just a few ponies doing it to practically everypony in this area joining in, with Scylla and Charming seeing the whole thing unfold before their eyes. For all they knew, this might have just been a common event, but the coordination with the members on how to make this one mare miserable was amazing in its own way. Eventually though, this had to stop, and so it did when the waitress finally signaled the end with an unfortunate accident.
Every hand made her more and more uncomfortable, sparking feelings in her that this girl didn’t want to feel. No doubt brought here through circumstances that matched Scylla and Charming’s abduction, she was no more a willing participate in this as either of them, and thus the humiliation of the situation overcame her. With a single knee jerk reaction that came from when one of the members swiped their fingers across her vagina, the waitress’ back tensed up of its own volition, causing the tray she had been holding to fall out of her stunned hand, Everything she had on it hit the floor, making a mess of food, liquids, and broken glass. In defeat, the waitress hung her head, bested by the members in this battle heavily weighed against her.
The members themselves got a good laugh out of this victory, and returned back to their own business, getting other servers to get them their refreshments, while a mare in a maid’s outfit walked over to the one they had tormented so, handing them a broom and dustpan with a force that told she was displeased.
“Just so you know,” said Scylla and Charming’s pegasus guide, “Damaging or breaking any Society property is a punishable offense for slaves. I would highly recommend you not follow in that slave’s hoofsteps.”
With the entertainment revolving around the mare over, the pegasus saw no further reason to stay in this section of the room. He headed elsewhere, and while they were reluctant to do so, the two mares followed him. If it was up to Scylla, she would have gone to help the waitress clean up, as it was entirely not her fault that the accident happened. She would probably get in trouble if she didn’t tail the pegasus though, so in her fear of reprisal she obediently went where she was expected to go.
“So as you might have been able to notice,” Scylla heard the guide say as she made it back to his side, “We don’t really use this for explicitly sexual acts. We might have some fun, play around with the slaves, and get a little hands on, but there is an unwritten rule about members having sex in the club rooms.”
“So you have some kind of ‘keep it in your pants’ rule you all enforce?” Charming asked, legitimately curious at how a group so focused on sex could reach this kind of agreement.
“Not strictly,” he replied, “But we all mostly agree that there is a place for such acts, and in here that place is up on the stage.” Pointing to the purple section, the stallion made sure both slave mares were aware of the currently vacant space in the room. “Up on the stage, one has free reign to do as they please to a slave in exhibition, That way, if anypony wants to expose themselves to a crowd, they can, and if anypony wants to not see that sort of stuff, they can sit in a seat faced away. The bar is also placed in such a way that a turn of the chair can give you either full access to a show, or none at all.”
“That’s actually a bit clever,” said Charming, making mental notes about the layout of the room, and how they helped this concept of everything being focused to the stage, while at the same time arranged so you didn’t have to acknowledge its existence if you really didn’t want to.
The only problem was that you’d still hear whatever was going on happening, but for some reason, Charming didn’t really think that was something the members really cared about. What they wanted was an environment where they could indulge in their kinks and urges, without having to put up with everypony else’s in the process, and without something like the stage to be there to signal when somepony was going to express their potentially irksome desires, ponies might do their debaucherous acts anywhere in the room, at any time. This would undoubtedly lead to somepony doing something that would be seen as untasteful to another, which could lead to all sorts of other problems. With the members all being those who were full of themselves to the point they believed they could claim ownership over another pony, conflicting opinions of how to do things when it came to this secretive sexual slavery sect could easily cause a divide, so it was best for business that each member were allowed to turn a blind eye when something unappealing met it.
“But what about those booths over there?” Scylla asked, noticing a few right next to the stage, pointed directly at it, with the only thing to look at if one were to try and look away being the wall they were connected to.
“How astute, Submission .” the pegasus replied.
“Submission?” Scylla replied back, thinking that the stallion was wording his sentence weirdly, or was missing a few words in between.
“That’s your Element, isn’t it?” the stallion asked, knowing the answer. “The members all took to calling the ‘Element Series’ slaves by their designated attributes the last time around, as it was easier than remembering a bunch of names, and I personally see no reason not to continue the tradition. They do make for cute nicknames for you lot.”
“So there were a set of Elements before us,” Scylla figured, before connecting that with the fact that Schorl had said the raffle she, Charming, and the others participated in was the second one. “Are the other Elements here too?”
“I’m afraid not, Obedience ,” answered the pegasus, taking pleasure in using the element names, “They have since left the facility. Lady Tourmaline said they had an important purpose to fulfill elsewhere, but I assume they were just sold off to some rich ponies in far away lands. Perhaps the Saddle Arabians have an active slave trade that we are Equestrians are unaware of.”
The two girls had a good idea that the elements before them probably went to other minotaur, but there was no reason to correct the stallion in that matter.
“But going back to your previous question, why don’t we take a better look at those booths?”
Following the stallion, they got to one of the seated enclosures. Getting closer, a small bar connecting the top parts of the seats on either side of a booth table, with lengths of cloth hanging down from them on rings.
“Oh!” Scylla said aloud, figuring out how they fixed the problem she thought came with these kinds of seatings, “There is a curtain you can close.”
“Yes indeed,” said the pegasus, “These curtains allow us members to block out anything that makes us uneasy, if we wish.”
“I’m betting that’s not their only purpose,” Charming said, quickly seeing what else they could be used for.
The stallion laughed, as did those few members who stuck around to see what these new slaves would get into. “Yes, some fooling around does happen behind these curtains with the slaves from time to time. Kissing, groping…”
“Sex.” Charming said bluntly, not at all taken in by this mild attempt at misdirection.
“Yes, yes, there are times that a member will bend the rules slightly. Get a blow job behind these shrouds, or a more interactive lap dance. That is why it’s always best to get to a table before anypony else. And luckily, it seems that this one has been unused today.” The stallion slipped into the booth, claiming it for himself. “Shall we ladies?”
The stallion, sitting as far back in the booth as possible, gestured for Scylla and Charming to come sit next to him on either side of him. Seeing no other options, and assuming that snubbing him would lead to a bad referral later, they slipped into the table just as he wished, with one girl on either side.
The pegasus, getting exactly what he wanted, gave a triumphant look to his peers. Instantly they discovered his real plan in taking up the mantle of showing these girls the ropes, and were now kicking themselves for not thinking of something similar as well. The pegasus, having the girls now as his own personal escorts, sent the other members a wave of his hand, dismissing them from acting as entourage. None of them took this well, but weren’t about to argue the point. It wasn’t like they were playing an active part in the training of these mares, so they had little say about whether or not they deserved to share in this pegasus’ plans. They might not have wanted to, but they resigned to letting this stallion have his way for now, and left him be with what would be a short lived prize.
“Ahhh,” he said as he relaxed, draping his arms around the shoulders of the girls on either side of him, “That’s much better. That rabble was just making things weird, don’t you think?”
“Umm… yeah…” Scylla replied, finding it much weirder that this random stranger had his arm around her, and that his hand was traveling down her body towards her breasts.
Before it got all the way there, however, the pegasus stopped himself to use that hand to instead call a serving pony over to him. “Waitress!” he said, standing up as well as he could in his seat, lifting the arm he had around the kelpie to make sure he was noticed.
The first waitress that noticed him rushed over to the table as fast as she could get there, the male servers all ignoring his call as he specified exactly what it was that he wanted. “Hello sir,” said a rather buxom unicorn girl with a ring around her horn, “What may I serve you?”
“Well normally I’d have you serve a piece of that pie you’re keeping between your legs,” said the stallion, crudely joking with the enslaved mare, “But today I’d like three tall glasses of spiked cider. One for me, and two for my guests.”
“Oh, you don’t have to-” Scylla started to say.
“You’re right. I don’t have to, but I’m doing it because I want to. Now get a move on, waitress.”
The unicorn rushed off as quickly as she came, heading straight for the bar to get the ordered drinks.
“This is very kind of you,” Charming said, “But are we even allowed to drink on duty?”
“Relax,” he assured, “Slaves are allowed any luxury or convenience given to them. If a member thinks you are deserving of some jewelry, then you are permitted to take it. In fact…” Reaching into his pants pocket, the stallion pulled out a large stack of paper slips. He took a moment to divide them up, passing four to Scylla and four to Charming, repocketed the rest.
“What are these?” Scylla asked, examining what was handed to her. The slips of paper themselves were made of white construction paper, but had several things printed on it. Most notably were the words ‘Official Slave Bond’.
“They are an idea one of the other members came up with,” said the stallion, “A white mare who joined our ranks a little while back’. She thought it might be a good idea if we could tip the ‘submissives’, in order to incentify good behavior. The idea has been in effect for a while, there has been some notable improvement in the slaves because of them. Each one of those slips of paper are worth a fourth of a bit. If you are tipped enough of them, once a week you are allowed to go to a slave exclusive store in the facility and purchase things like candy bars, perfumes, books, jewelry, and other approved personal items to make your lives as slaves more pleasant. Save enough and you can even be permitted something like a few hours in The Society’s private movie theater.”
“Hmmm… so another thing to get us to comply and see the rewards that come with servitude.” commented Charming.
“Exactly,” said the pegasus, not catching the discouragement in Charming’s voice. The unicorn saw this as what it really was, which was just another for of conditioning.
The members would make you work your ass off, almost literally, just for a meager snack or some small trinket. These four slips alone were just enough to get a Hayday candy bar if the estimation given was to be believed, and their was little reason to think that they would be handed out in such a quantity each time. No, this was just a taste of the ‘fortune’ a slave could amass, something to get a captive focused on the goal of reclaiming something they use to be able to get on their own terms. Whoever this white mare was, she must have been a very devious member to come up with this idea. Making ponies work much harder to be rewarded with much less.
The explanation of the slave bonds gave the waitress just enough time to return, carrying all three drinks with her. One by one she placed them down in front of their intended drinkers, until her tray was empty and her role fulfilled.
“Hmph, I suppose that is worth a small bonus.” said the pegasus, not all that impressed with the serving slaves time or presentation. This was just a good opportunity to demonstrate the tipping system. He took a single bond out of his pocket, and proceeded to place it flat on the table, setting it near the center. “But you have to work for it. Arms behind your back, bitch.”
The waitress did as she was told, and crossed her arms behind herself, cupping her shoulders in her hands. “Mouth only?” she asked.
“Too easy.” said the pegasus, “I want to see you get it using only your tail.”
With nary another word, the waitress turned herself around, facing her back to the three ponies seated in the booth. She then scooted herself backward and lifted her body up an inch so that she could rest her butt on the table’s edge, making her rounded cheeks go into view from out of underneath her short skirt. Now partially seated, she proceeded to move her tail to get at the piece of near worthless paper money. It started with a flick of the hair strands, making the tail go up in a jolt only so it could drape back down on the table. The motion brushed the bond a little, causing it to move, though not in the direction of the mare. It went off to the side a bit, spinning it on spot more than making it go anywhere of worth. This didn’t discourage the mare though, and as soon as the tip of her tail brushed the table she lifted it up again to try once more.
“What a lovely display, isn’t it?” the pegasus said, casually pushing the full glass of alcoholic cider closer to Scylla, “A pretty, nubile girl, working her best to do her job. Working up a sweat. It’s the kind of thing a stallion can really appreciate.”
Scylla took her drink in hand, but refrained from actually drinking from it as she watched the other mare try with all her might to receive her tip. Each motion of her tail made her bottom bounce a little, which was the real intent of this exercise she assumed. As hard as it was to get the piece of paper to move one inch with her tail of hair, Scylla could only think about how that kind of trick wouldn’t work on her at all. If this stallion had tried to get her to do the same, all it would take was a simple scooping of her tailfin to get the hardly worthwhile prize, and leave the pegasus wanting. Then again, he would probably be aware of that and make her do something else just as degrading.
The mare bounced herself for the amusement of the stallion for several minutes, but ended up getting the slave bond over to her. Once close enough, the pegasus gave her permission to take it and leave, to which she did so with great pleasure. There was a recognizable resentment from her towards the pegasus that Scylla could recognize, putting the general consensus towards the members from the slave staff at mostly negative. It was relieving to see that there weren’t really many ponies here with the mindset of the bat pony she had been in the company of for the previous week, as it would be disheartening to say the least to be surrounded by those ecstatic about having their freedom stripped away.
With the mare gone, the entertainment she provided to the stallion left with her, which in turn directed his attention fully back to the mares at his sides. “Haven’t touched your drink I see,” he offhandedly said to Scylla, “You know, I paid good money to get you that.”
“I-I’m just not that thirsty is all.” Scylla replied, knowing that her refusal to drink was not going to be ignored.
“An aquatic pony like you not being thirsty?” the pegasus said, giving a racially insensitive joke, “Come on, it’s not gonna kill you. Just loosen up a bit and have a few rounds on me. I demand it.”
Charming looked up from her own drink, having worked it to about halfway already. “Just give it a try, Scylla,” she encouraged, “It’s really not that strong. I could probably kick back five of these before without a problem.”
With Charming backing up the pegasus in this matter, Scylla had little choice but to comply. Grabbing the glass, she put it to her lips and sipped a bit out of it. The cider tasted mostly sweet, with a mild bite to it indicating that there was alcohol in the drink. The presence of alcohol was worrisome for the kelpie, but at this low a percentage she hoped that she would be able to handle it. She would stick to small sips, and only when her host was looking. That was the plan she had in mind for the drink.
“Good, that’s more like it. For a moment I thought you were trying to insult me.” said the pegasus as he placed his arm back around Scylla’s shoulder, reacquainting himself with her body. With the complete disrespect of personal space this stallion had, it wouldn’t surprise Scylla at all if this was the only way a guy like this ever touched a mare. Then again, he was showing much more restraint than her master did. At least he was just trying to cop a feel, and wasn’t reeming her over breakfast.
Thinking of it that way, and taking another few sips out of her drink, Scylla relaxed a bit. It was actually kinda reassuring with that notion in her mind now. At least this guy isn’t the most terrible guy I’ve ever met . Repeating that in her head, Scylla chuckled to herself. If and when she got out of this situation, she would probably see most stallions that way. Almost made her wonder if she would develop bad tastes in men because of it. Already the jerk who was now cupping her tit while he talked to Charming was looking spectacular when compared to the bull who had her as a literal breeding tool.
“A writer?” the pegasus said, squeezing and releasing his hand around Scylla’s breast in a slow, gentle rhythm, “That is an interesting occupation. Anything I’ve ever read?”
“Not unless you’re into stories of girlish stallions being force fed plastic dicks at both ends by lots of dominant mares.” Charming replied, trying to deflect this stallion’s advances just a little. He had made to her clear what his type was through his actions, and being that he was a member, it gave the unicorn the idea that he wasn’t into strong, willful mares.
“Oh! I remember that one!” Scylla said, recalling a book she had in her private collection that featured just such a scene, “Wasn’t there like eight of them with three guys.”
“Umm… yes, actually.” Charming answered, finding it odd that Scylla, the shy and reserved sea mare, got the number of participants right.
“They had all kinds of fun with the boys, taking turns making them beg for the mares to take them up the butt. Then they went on to tapping their balls with a crop till they got sore.”
“That’s… well…” Charming hadn’t really expected this, caught out of her element by a surprising fan that came from an unlikely source. All she could say in response was “Seems like somepony has taken a look at one of my writings” as she took a moderate drink from her cup.
The stallion on the other hand seemed intrigued even more by all this. “Soooo, seems like behind that facade of the timid young mare is a bit of a sex freak. Very nice.” He said, humored by this revelation to Scylla’s character, “And on the other hand we have a girl with a bunch of bad ideas in her head. I certainly would like to let you feel what it’s like to be one of the stallions in your books. Mind giving me a title for that one so I can do my research?”
Charming slunk down ever so slightly, scolding herself for not realizing that she was giving the pegasus ammo to use against her, and embarrassed even more that he was making it clear that he would actually read one of her books. “It’s called… ‘The Trap Tamer Club’.” she said, releasing the title of what would be an instruction manual on how to sexually torment her later to what she now believed would be a future client of hers.
“I’ll be sure to order a copy through The Society. I’m sure Lady Tourmaline would have a means of getting such literature.”
“Of course she would…” Charming commented, her pink fur now having a distinct shade of red in it, the unicorn in a whole body blush that was only being concealed by the lighting of the room.
That lighting changed though shortly after the comment from the pegasus, with all sections save for the stage changing from their respective colors to black as they dimmed to near darkness. The purple stage light itself transformed to a more common white light, and brightened to make it the most visible part of the room.
“What’s going on?” Scylla asked, taking a sip from her cup.
“Seems like we got a show about to start.” explained the stallion, “I wonder who it will be this time, and what they'll do.”
As if to answer him, a masculine voice came over a loudspeaker in the room, announcing to all within it “Fillies and Gentlecolts, today we have a real treat for you all. Our gracious host, Lady Tourmaline, has decided that she would wish to perform this evening, and entertain you all in song as you enjoy the pleasures of her club.”
This announcement started a bunch of whispers around the room, so many that Scylla couldn’t make out what they all were saying. It all came down to one thing though, that Lady Tourmaline performing, for one reason or another, was a big deal. Looking at the pegasus, she could make out in the darkness that he too was gaining some excitement as to the arrival of the crystal mare, and the show she would put on for those there.
Scylla didn’t know how to feel herself, but maybe it would be something that even she could enjoy. It was just a song, so nothing bad could happen during it. Still, all this was working up her nerves again, and in order to calm them down, she took several long sips out of her drink glass. Little did she know at the time what a mistake that was.
Author's Note
Hey everyone. Schorl here.
Sorry that this update took even longer this time, but it's not like I've been doing nothing. You see, being a Z tier internet celebrity (the absolute lowest of the low), I have gotten the attention of some fans who want my assistance in some of their projects. The other day I helped one such fan by making a full chapter on their FoE story, to try and help them get motivated enough to continue. That took about a week to do, and unfortunately turned out going south because shortly after it's completion that person simply disappeared. Sucks that I might have wasted some time, should he never show up again, but things like this happen I suppose.
That aside, I was having some issues with this chapter. Nothing too big, but I did have to make a few mental revisions. Like at first I wanted to introduce a character that would have taken the place of the pegasus member that guided Scylla and Charming Tale this chapter. He was suppose to come from the crowd as they were making fun of Charming's cuteness and explain that she was a semi famous erotic novel writer, revealing himself to be her publisher. There was going to be a little back and forth with them, like her bluntly asking if it was his fault she was int there, with him adamantly denying it. However I decided against it for what I felt was an approach that would get them into the club quicker.
I tried to include him again later, at the booth, but I felt it would be weird if he tried to barge into the pegasus' private lesson with the two. I thought that maybe he would try to lure Charming away in threat to the pegasus not letting him join, but then I remembered that the pegasus had a hostage, and odds were that Charming wouldn't just leave Scylla alone with the creeper feeling her up. In the end, I found this character too intrusive, so I simply cut him out. Maybe I'll include him in a later chapter, but odds are that now that I've said all this, he'd be just as intrusive if I add him later as he would be if I have added him here. Why is it that even in concept my members have no concept of personal space.
Equestria Trainers' Society: Fish Out of Water
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
“I’m not your slave.”
These were the type of lines that Pathfinder kept cycling in his head over the past week, doing what he could to hold onto his sense of self throughout his time in The Society. His mantra for keeping himself sane and his thoughts independant. Yet after all the time that he put into telling himself that, now he had something different to say.
“Why am I doing this?”
Unlike the strong, defiant statements he had been repeating over and over again, this one came out as bemoaned as he lemented his current situation.
“You are doing this,” said Li Min, who was standing right behind him, “Because Lady Tourmaline promised to let you see your daughter if you went along with this evening’s activities.”
“I know the reason I’m going along with you!” Path exclaimed, not having to be reminded of the reward for his obedience, “But why… this?”
The brown pegasus was looking at himself in a mirror that covered the length of the wall from top to bottom. Yet, staring back at him was a fairly attractive pegasus mare wearing a cute waitress uniform, the kind that you might worn by a server at a cafe. The deer slaves,just mere minutes ago, had occupied the room with him and the kirin, and performed their craft with such skill and quality that Path couldn’t see anything but a female version of himself in the reflection, with padding in the chest area
“It is this because Lady Tourmaline ordered it.” Li Min said frankly, “Do you really need a better answer than that?”
“It just feels like she’s doing this to embarrass me…” Path said, flipping up the front of his skirt to look at his dick. It was currently covered by a pair of panties, but the bulge in the women’s underwear proved he was still a guy.
“That might be the case.” said the scale covered mare, “Lady Tourmaline always appears to do things to the slaves in her care on a whim. Usually she has them kept to a strict regimen to which she instructs those in her service, like myself, to make them follow without error. Then out of nowhere she’ll decide to have certain slaves do something completely different. I couldn’t tell you if this is part of her training program, or just something she does to bemuse herself.”
Pathfinder released his skirt front, accepting that the crystal mare’s plans for him were just something he was going to have to deal with. That was all that mattered right now. “Tell me what the deal was again. I want to make sure there isn’t some clause or something that would allow Schorl to back out of her end.”
“Very well,” Li Min said, referring back to her clipboard, “Lady Tourmaline told me that ‘As long as Mr. Finder puts on the uniform provided for him, and acts as a server in The Society’s club room without incident, he may be allocated a short time after his duties are fulfilled to confirm his daughter’s, Miss. Scylla’s, health and well being’.”
“What does she mean by ‘after my duties’?” Path questioned, not wanting some like a day or a week later to be considered ‘after’.
“After you are retrieved for your task, I will be going immediately to where Scylla is to pick her up. From there, I’ll be heading directly to where you will be located with her in tow.”
“Good…” Path said, begrudgingly taking Li Min at her word.
As much as he hated to admit it, Schorl and her lackies had a very solid honest streak in them. It was probably a by product of him having no real control over what happened to him inside these walls, but Schorl, her slaves, and The Society’s members were all very up front and honest to him. No point in lying when the crystal unicorn held all the cards.
“If there are no other questions or complaints, I believe it is time you were off. Many of our members are awaiting you to serve them.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m ready…” Pathfinder preplied, knowing he would never be truly prepared for what he was about to endure.
Hearing his acceptance of the situation, Li Min went to the door of the dressing room they were currently within and cracked it open. “He’s ready.” the kirin said as she poked her nose out the small opening.
A moment later another mare entered, a light green unicorn with a neatly braided mane, wearing a maid’s uniform. Pathfinder quickly noted she was one of the Society slaves, due to the collar around her neck and the ring around her horn, but not one that he had encountered before now. She was also much less disheveled than the slaves he had been around, her fur and hair well maintained, and lacking the telltale bags under her eyes that denoted sleep deprivation.
“You must be one the my superiors,” Path said to the mare.
“Superior?” the unicorn questioned, “If you are implying that I’m a higher class of slave than you, then you are mistaken. When it comes to servitude in the Society, there are no ranks or castes. As Lady Tourmaline says, all slaves are equally capable of success or failure, thus they should all be judged at the same standard.”
“Riiiggghhhttt…” Pathfinder say with notable sarcasm, as the discrepancy between how the two were treated was glaringly obvious.
“Believe what you will, but despite being Lady Tourmaline’s personal maid, I am treated with no more privilege than any other who would chose to obey. There are many privileges that come with accepting one’s role, and many punishments that come from defying it.”
Pathfinder raised an eyebrow as he looked from Schorl’s maid to her secretary. Li Min at least seemed to be grounded about the reality of this situation, where the unicorn seemed to have dipped deeply into the koolaid.
Li Min answered his glance with a small shake of her head, telling Path that she might have been on the same page with him, but she wasn’t going to collude with him about his thoughts about the maid mare.
Aside from that, all he got out of the kirin was, “Mister Finder, Sweet Mint here will be your handler for the evening, guiding you through the tasks you have to fulfill to uphold your end of the bargain.”
To which the unicorn added, “And you had best be grateful the mistress even offered such an agreement in the first place. As a slave, you aren’t in a position to demand anything, where she is in a position to offer nothing.”
“I get it, she’s in charge.” Path said, doing his best to remain calm in this dire situation, “I’ve already agreed to go along with this, what more do you want?”
Mint’s nose curled up as if she had smelled something rotten, not at all pleased with Pathfinder’s attitude. Still, she had been given a task by her mistress, one that didn’t allow for heated debate on slave decorum.
“Then come with me. I shall take you to perform your duties.”
The three ponies left the room, Li Min heading away from it in one direction, while the two non-scaled ponies headed off in another. The route that Pathfinder and Sweet Mint traveled was done so in silence, with little disrupting, save for the ambience of screams and cries that flowed from the facility's ventilation ducts. Several times Pathfinder was about to break the relative quiet with a comment or a question, but each time he ended up choosing not to act on his curiosity. He was often told directly the things that Society staff and members felt he needed to know, and questions often led to things he didn’t want to know.
This trek through the halls of The Society ended after the two ended up at a double door. Up until then, the maid mare never hinting that she had anything to discuss with her womanized ward, but upon arrival that changed.
“This is where you will be serving this evening.” said the unicorn while opening the doors.
Inside, Path saw the club room he was being stationed at. The room was brightly lit, and let the pegasus see every table, chair, booth, and stool. Walking in, he spotted a bar counter with plenty of bottles behind it of a plethora of shapes and sizes. Some of the brands he recognized, but many were the kinds that only those who made his yearly salary in a day could buy without seeing it an egregious waste of bits.
All in all, the room had the presence of a high class strip bar, or as some liked to call them a ‘Gentlecolt’s Club’. Nudie bars that catered to stallions who liked to pretend they had higher standards and class than ‘common ponies’ went to gawk at mares like any other guy looking to indulge in their perverse desires. Pathfinder had never been to such a high class establishment before, but he had heard the stories from those who swore they had been in one of those private clubs, invited by a friend of a friend, and how they often catered to the kind of kinks that The Society would endorse alongside their extreme fetishes of rape and slavery.
“Everypony, front and center. We have a new worker joining us this evening.” said Sweet Mint, stepping into a small clearing in front of the tables.
In response, every other pony in the club room stopped what they were doing so they may join the unicorn. They came to her at their own paces, some fast while others took their time. Regardless of speed they formed an organized line of twenty in front of the mare, awaiting what it was she had to say.
“Ahem!” Mint sounded, looking back at Path who was just standing at the entrance.
“Oh!” the pegasus said as he rush up aside Mint.
“That’s better,” Mint said matter of factly, “Everypony, this is Pathfinder. Pegasus, Male, Thirty Seven, straight, and Society property.”
Pathfinder took a note of that. Name, race, gender, age, sexual orientation, and owner. Those were the only details The Society deemed worth knowing.
“He is starting his first day in here as a server, and may have a more permanent position here if he does well.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said a bit timidly, with everypony gawking at him in his mareish appearance. The others took the information rather well though, not batting an eye at that the cute girl in front of them was a middle age male.
“There is no need to introduce yourself,” Mint commented, “Serving slaves are rotated enough that you will rarely work with the same two twice.”
“Oh…” Pathfinder said, uncertain what this was about then if not for him to get acquainted with his co-workers.
“These mares and stallions need to know you though, as it will be you who is expected to be the dead weight of this evening. They will keep an eye on you, and should you fail at a task, they are to step in immediately, to ensure the pony you failed to serve is given the best experience they can receive afterwards.”
“How encouraging…” said Path with layers of sarcasm so thick they could stop a stampeding buffalo in its tracks.
“Just know that you will be watched tonight, and that if we deem your ability to serve was subpar, then your end of the deal will be considered unfulfilled.”
“Got it,” Path said, never assuming that having a brigade of ponies to step in and clean up his mistakes was a good thing.
“That aside not much is really expected of you. You are to take food and orders from our patrons when they arrive. When you are given one, you go over to the bar.” Sweet Mint pointed to the area in question, directing her finger to a small window to the side of it. “If you have a food order, you deliver it to the window so it can be prepared. If it is a drink order you can to the bartender directly. When an order is ready, you can use one of the trays set up at the corner of the counter.”
“That sounds simple enough,” said Pathfinder, “But that’s not all there is to it, is it?”
“If you are wondering if you need to perform any sexual duties, then no.” Sweet Mint answered, “You are not expected in participating in anything like that tonight. The most that can be done to you is that the patrons will be allowed to touch you as they please, so long as no actual penetration is performed. Oh, that reminds me.”
The unicorn turned to face Path, and before he knew it she had grabbed him by the arm. His first instinct was to pull away, but the treatment he had gone through at The Society had left him fairly weakened, so the unicorn easily overpowered him to force his arm into a raise, forward position. With it that way, she pulled out a circular bracelet, which she quickly snapped across Path’s wrist.
“Here we go” Mint said, releasing his arm, “Nice and snug.”
The mare wasn’t kidding. As Pathfinder tried to get it off, he could feel the padded leather gripping him tightly. There was barely a sliver of space between it and his own skin, making it near impossible to slip off. As for removing it the same way it got on, the bracelet, had a metal clasp on it that locked the moment the two parts of it were joined. So just like his collar, this became an unremovable accessory from his body.
“Please settle down,” Mint requested after the stallion gave a few valliant tries against the bracelet, “The bracelet won’t harm you. It actually acts as an identifier for the members, and will save you from more molestations than it will put you into.”
Stopping his struggles against the bracelet, Path examined it to find that it bore a sizable piece of metal on it in the shape of a male gender symbol.
“That symbol, as you might assume, allows everyone to know your true sex. They are issued to prevent confusion for the members, who all have their gender preferences. All of the serving slaves wear them in here.”
As if commanded to do so, many of the other ponies revealed their arms to let Path see their own wrist bound accessories. This also let him know that he was not alone in his current predicament. Other stallions were likewise dressed in female clothing, and in such an effective way that before this point he would have judge their genders on their appearance. Mares were likewise dressed like males, but their two piece uniforms did a bit less to disguise what they really were.
“The last thing you need to know is that members will be referring to you as a ‘waitress’, for obvious reasons. So in order to not confuse you with any actual waitresses, the patrons will raise their hand if they want a properly gendered sever, and will keep it down if they want an opposite gendered one.”
“That’s a needlessly complicated system you’ve created.” commented Pathfinder.
“The members tend to like things that are complex and nuanced. One might call it a fetish for convolution, but I think they just like to see the slaves jump through hoops for them. Sometimes literally.” Mint snicked a little at what seemed to be a personal joke, but of course Pathfinder found no humor in it, “Ehem, but that is all you need to know about your incredibly simple job. I’ll assume at this point that you have no questions, as not only is this one of the easiest positions in The Society, but I have explained things in a manner that even a child could understand.”
“Sure,” Path said, wanting this conversation to be done with, despite what questions he might have had.
“Good, then you may relax for a few minutes before the members arrive. The rest of you, get back to work. Lady Tourmaline want this room spotless for when the guest get here.”
Just as easily as the line was formed, it dispersed as the enslaved ponies returned to what they were doing before Path’s introduction. Sweet Mint, surprisingly, went to help the group prepare the room, in more than a supervisory role. She grabbed up her own wash rag and started wiping down tables without hesitation, humming a tune who’s cheerful tones were not befitting of this place.
Having been basically told ‘go sit down for a while’, Pathfinder did just that., finally finding a command he was happy to comply with. He decided that the best place to do so was the bar itself, cause it was far away from Mint, and it felt out of the way of everypony else’s busy work. Getting on a stool in front of the counter, the pegasus crossed his arms over the flat surface before him, placing his head down within the little nest the made for it. He was just going to relax as he was told, but his own fatigue and poor sleep habits he acquired over the toughest week of his life caught up to him the moments after his body started to relax. With nothing to keep him from drifting, his eyelids drooped, and threatened to whisk his consciousness to the dream realm.
The only thing that stopped this process was a female voice speaking into his ear. “Havin’ a rough day already?”
Path, alerted to the presence of another pony, opened a single eye to see one of the mares from the line up on the other side of the bar, cleaning a drink glass in her hand.
“That question better be rhetorical.” Path replied, with as much courtesy he could muster in his mentally exhausted state.
“Ah suppose that question is a might silly,” said the mare, a country accent revealing itself the more she spoke. The mare was an earth pony of golden brown, and thick green curls atop her head. She was one of the few slaves in the room that was not dressed up in anything, her body exposed to show all her curvy curves. She was very attractive, and to Path’s embarrassment, his dick was able to muster the strength to stand up on its own, despite his own energy being lacking.
“So Mint said your name is Pathfinder?” She asked, cleaning her glass completely before heading over to the bottles behind her.
“Yeah, that’s me,” Path replied, this small talk making his weary mind even wearier.
“Well welcome to the club. I’m Dosie Dough.” Along with her name, the earth mare gave Path the glass that she had been cleaning, filled to the brim with a clear brown liquid, topped off with a layer of foam.
Path was so excited at the sight of the beer, and without thinking he downed it on the spot. It was cool, refreshing, splashing against the back of his throat and down his gullet. Never before had he been so grateful for a drink. An oasis in a the blistering heat. If the mare behind the counter wanted to gain Pathfinder’s affection, then she had found the perfect way. With the alcohol sitting in his stomach, Pathfinder felt much better than he had in days. It wasn’t enough to get him drunk, but just it’s presence in his being was a relief.
“Thank you,” Pathfinder told the mare, but then an important question arose, “But won’t you get in trouble for that?”
“It was just a bit of draft,” Dosie said, taking the glass back from Path so she could clean it once more, “They’ll have a hard time noticing a single glass.”
“Good.” Path replied, happy to get a drink on The Society’s tab, so long as it didn’t come out of some other pony’s ass.
“Now that you’ve gotten a nip, mind tellin’ me a bit about yourself?”
“Why do ya want to know?” Path asked, “I thought the maid said we wouldn’t be together long enough to get to know each other.”
“That’s true for most of ya,” Dosie said, “But I’m a regular bartender here. Ah see more of y’all than most, and plenty of ya pop up as servers more than once. But really, I just think that listening to the stories of other ponies makes time pass by quicker.”
“Well then, this will be the first time I got a drink for a song.” Path joked, “Not much to say really. I’m just a map maker who got dragged into this place. They didn’t even want me really, but they grabbed me when they snatched up my daughter. I can’t believe I let these bastards get the both of us… I’m the worst father.”
“Don’t say that.” Dosie said, “Ah think that ya worrying about your daughter is mighty sweet, and these Society folks are a little too good at snatching ponies up.”
“I’ve notice,” Path said, still amazed at how many captives Schorl had trapped in this dungeon of hers. “So how did you get here? Did a band of gryphons pluck you from your home too?”
“No, Ah got lured in by a few relatives of mine.” Dosie set down her rewashed glass, and moved on to another. “They said they needed some extra hands on their orange farm, and Ah didn’t think a thing about doing it for a while. Next thing Ah know, Ah’m passing out during dinner an’ waking up in a cage with nothin’ on but mah birthday suit. Later Ah found out that Ah was part of a group of random ponies The Society gathered up to train as slaves. Ever since, Ah’ve been working here as part time bartender, and part time sex slave. Wouldn’t believe how many rich stallions go for the down to earth farm mare type.”
Path didn’t like thinking it, but he could agree strongly with their tastes. Just talking to Dosie Dough allowed him to soak in her sweetness, like an adorable country flower. The kind no stallion would be embarrassed to bring home to mother, or have a few rolls around in the hay with. Schorl sure knew how to pick mare’s whose physical and personality traits hit all the trigger for a stallion’s arousal. Suppressing his own desires, he willed his dick to deflate with a force of will. He knew this was not the time nor place to be a horny horse, but nothing about this place made doing otherwise easy.
While he might have thought that it was hard to keep his arousal in check while sitting and talking with Dosie, he had a complete change of heart once his shift started. There was little sexy about what he had to do as a server.
“Waitress!”
From the moment the lights in the club dimmed and the members took their seats, Pathfinder was ran ragged with demands. All around the sitting area the members would call over the room’s music, asking for a waitress with their hands unraised. Most would order drinks, while a few would order some light snacks to go with them, the general goal on the minds of the members was to get drunk and enjoy the entertainment.
“Waitress!”
There was plenty to be enjoyed too, as many of the tables Pathfinder visited had their own personal table dancers. They had been ordered from the same menu as the drinks, with the private dancer’s page on the pages near the back. Males and females, all conscripted by The Society to do this demeaning activity.
At least they don’t have to run their asses off, Path thought, focusing on his own situation. Being a server for a full house was not easy. Even less so when a lot of the work was being thrust on him. There were other servers about, but some of them were being held at tables to perform for some kind of paper money. Many were glad to perform tricks or show some skin for these tips, but Path had little interest in them, his mind only thinking of Scylla and how he could get through this brief moment in his life with the minimum amount of personal embarrassment.
“Oh waitress~”
For what felt like his hundredth time that night, Path made his way to the side of the bar where he could deliver his orders without interfering with the members drinking at it.
“What do they want this time?” Dosie asked, knowing a flood of drink orders were coming her way.
“I need two Manehattens, six Maregarittas, one Blue Haywaii, and ten glasses of Bitweiser.” Path said, displaying an amazing ability to remember details.
Dosie, unable to do the same, jotted down all the orders on a notepad and got to work filling glass after glass. It was in the midst of this that Path got a short break to catch his breath. He leaned his back against the counter, panting heavily while fanning himself off with his hand.
“Heh, that twink is doing a good impression of a mare in heat.” one of the male members at the bar said to another, both of their attentions grabbed by the pretty thing sweating and gasping mere feet away. “Too bad there’s a dick under that dress, cause I’d certainly pay for some alone time with a girl that cute.”
Path was glad to see that the bracelet on his wrist was working as intended, keeping away those who might have thought he was a girl they could violate. As much as that helped though, it had the opposite effect for stallions who were actually into that sort of stuff, as the other male the first one was speaking to was locking eyes with him. A lick of his lips told what he was thinking, and Path was actually glad when Dosie gave him a full tray of drinks so he could go away. As he went to deliver the drinks though, he swore he could feel that stallions eyes staring at him still, and particularly at his backside. Maybe it was a trick of his mind, but he felt like his ass was being peered at through his frilly skirt.
When the pegasus couldn’t shake these feelings, he decided to look back just to debunk them. Unfortunately, he not only found that the stallion had actually continued to stare, but he noticed that the back end of his dress skirt was flipped upwards. The bar stallion had been a unicorn, a fact Path didn’t realize because he was too busy trying to ignore him in the first place. Now he was making that really difficult to do, if not impossible for a pony as self conscious as Pathfinder. Had he not been holding a tray full of drinks, he would have pulled the skirt back down. Full as they were, he would just have to bare with it till he was out of the unicorn’s range.
He kept moving along, his rear end exposed, back to the tables. He couldn’t let this detract from his drinks to their intended consumers one by one, strategically angling himself to keep his rump out of view. He didn’t need to try too hard with most. Those still preoccupied with their dancers or conscripted servers barely noticing the sissy stallion setting drinks on their table before taking his leave, and for some reason many of the seats had become vacant, their occupants crowding together at the club’s entrance. It was fairly easy for him to get through his first round trip, delivering each order quickly and quietly enough to not have his backside seen.
It was not until he gathered up a second plate of drinks that he started having problems. The unicorn still hadn’t given up with his childish antics, even after Pathfinder had struggled to pull it down once he had the chance. If anything, it enticed the stallion to do it more, flipping the skirt back up even higher, so far that it raised up the the back of dress enough to expose the lower part of Path’s bare back. Ignoring it was Path’s only option, having to deliver more drinks.
Returning to the tables, complications began rising. The raised angle of the skirt was too obtrusive for ponies to not notice, nor to not see why it was that way, or how much of an impact it was making on the stallion wearing it. What dominant could ignore such a public shaming of a sub.
“Heeeeyyy, that’s a really interesting cutiemark you got there.” said a particularly snickered up member who caught a partial glimpse of the pegasus’ panty clad ass. “Mind if I get a closer look?”
Path sensed a hand lingering near the strap of his girly underwear, and instinctively he pulled away before the fingers could take hold of it. With haste he went to his next destination, believing that as long as he kept moving he would be ok and unmolested. How wrong he was.
The attempt to ignore and avoid violation only drew in the attention of the members, each tasting blood in the waters that was this club room. Now, every time Path passed by somepony, they would find a bit of exposed flesh and attack it with a graze of their fingers. The first one slid across his outer thigh, the initial touch sending a shock through his leg, directly to his crotch. He didn’t even catch who had done it, but it he did catch notice of the uncomfortable boner pushing out from his panties, poking up against the inside of his dress’ skirt front.
He was not alone either, as the next assault on his body was a firm rubbing of his cock head through that fabric. This time he was able to see who had dared, and it was a female earth mare. With a devilish grin she cupped Path’s flared head, causing him to wince from the sensation of pleasure he felt from her touch. Path neither had the want or the time for this, as he needed to uphold his part of his deal with Schorl, to be a server for these ponies who were molesting him where he stood.
“I think one of those Manehattens are mine.” the mare said, her touches and rubs not ceasing for as long as Path was in her reach. To fix this, Path quickly set down her ordered drink, then went off with trembling hands to the next destination.
More grazing of fingers met with Path as he walked, members waiting till he passed to take an opportunity touch. Some made it quick, giving the dressed up pegasus stallion a jolt of sensation that sparked his mind as quickly as it came. Others lingered much longer, keeping their flesh contacted with Path’s as long as possible. Long since had it stop being restricted to only those who had some form of sexual interest with the pegasus. This had become sport for all involved, to see who would get the made up male to crack under the pressure.
Path couldn’t even try to avoid the hoard of hands hunting for his skin. He instead tried to endure it all, clenching his muscles, tensing up even his thoughts to prepare against what he now knew was going to come. He managed to get roughly half his tray emptied this way, with three full glasses of alcohol remaining a top it.
Just a few more… Path thought, trying to hype himself up, trying to ignore the fact that after this he’d still have several trays let to hand out. He was feeling like he could do it. His hand were shaking, his breath was heavy, but he could make it. That was until…
A hand slipped up the front of his dres, passing easily up the skirt to it’s waist band. Path, like before, did his best to plow through it, not concerning himself with anything the hand was doing or where it was coming from. The hand wasn’t going to allow it. It had a target, and it was going to get it. With a curling of a pointer and index finger, the hand pulled down. They hooked the pair of panties Path was wearing, pulling off his crotch with a single motion that was only hindered by a brief brush across Path’s plumped up penis, brought to erection from all the groping his body had received. With the cloth now out of the way, the hand went back up to make contact with the sex organ, gripping it firmly in its palm.
Within a split second, Path was able to tell that this hand was masculine in nature. The size of it along with its grip strength couldn’t make him believe anything else. Some guy was groping his dick, squeezing it, moving his hand along it, savoring the feel of his engorged stallionhood in his hand. Not only that, but he was doing a fairly good job at it. Path’s mind was in shock, but his dick knew how to react in the presence of stimulation. Perhaps his dick was more reactive to it because its owner was in such a stunned state, but whether or not that were actually the case, Path found his most personal body part twitching happily in the hands of this strange stallion.
That was the breaking point, and with a jump and a shrill scream, Path got away from the stallion and in the process dropped everything he had been holding. The glasses shattered against the hard floor, glass and alcohol spilling out in all directions. It was an instant mess, one that the members found amusing. While the nameless stallion had been the victor, they all played part in making Path’s accident. As a united front, they group congratulated one another with a round of laughter. In his defeat, Path could only hang his head in shame.
In a few moments, Path found a broom and dustpan shoved into his hands. Looking up at the deliverer of these items, he saw Sweet Mint glaring into his eyes. “Don’t just stand there. Clean up after yourself.”
That was all the unicorn said as she turned around, leaving Path in the middle of everything. Little by little, the members all turned away from Path as well, all having gotten all the enjoyment they were going to get from this specticule. With the initial humiliation fading, Pathfinder found himself standing there blankly, fluids drenching his hooves. After a short while, the only embarrassment he felt came from his feelings of cluelessness. Beyond his outburst, no pony seemed to care about him or what he was doing. No longer being molested or peered at, Path pulled his panties back up, and got to cleaning up the shattered glass and spilled fluids off the floor, completely unaware that the reason he was doing all this had been watching him from a distance when he was being violated.
Path started his new chore, assuming that he was to clean up everything. To his surprise, Sweet Mint joined him with a mop shortly after. Together it only took ten minutes to get everything back the way it was before the incident, if perhaps with the floor a little stickier than before in some hard to reach areas.
“That’s good enough,” Mint said, satisfied with the progress they had made, “Grab your stuff and come with me.”
Path did as he was told, grabbing his dustpan full of glass shards and following her through the room. The unicorn headed to a far wall right of the stage. There, she opened a door that blended into the wall in the club’s current darkness, showing it to be a janitorial closet. First thing she did was place both her bucket and mop into a sizable sink held within.
“Place your shards in the garbage can over there.” Mint said, running water over her mop’s head to clean out the alcohol inside.
Path complied, and as he dumped his trash in the receptacle. “Sorry.” he apologized, knowing he had messed up, and hoping this didn’t screw up his chances to see his daughter,
“Don’t be too upset.” Mint reassured, “I saw what was happening. There was little chance of an untrained slave to endure all that. All things considering, you did well, but you dropping your tray was unavoidable.”
“That’s… very reasonable of you.” Path said, caught a bit off guard at Mint’s rationality.
“You did nothing wrong, considering you skill level. It was clear that you didn’t do so intentionally, and that the members were looking for the results that happened. Those that enjoy the mistress’ facilities often find sport in inflicting cruelties on the slaves. All things considering, this time was fairly tame, but it is still a problem.”
“A problem?” Path asked, somewhat confused hearing that. He had come to believe that tormenting the slaves was encouraged.
“The mistress knows and respects the needs and urges of her patrons, but in many cases they take things too far, or express their sadism in inappropriate places. She can hardly scold them for their behavior, seeing as their money is what keeps the facility running, but she does try to dissuade it though.”
“Huh…”
“Do try to understand, the mistress isn’t a monster.” Mint said with complete sincerity, “She just has a lot of ideas most other ponies would find extreme or unusual.”
“I’d say that slavery is a little more than extreme.” Path replied.
“I would expect that from somepony like yourself. One who doesn’t understand the nature of dominance and submission.”
“Hey, I’ve done my fair share of BDSM play with-”
“As you just said, all you did was play it. The mistress lives it and bases her entire life around the concepts of it.”
To Path, it just sounded like Schorl was taking her bondage to an obsessive level. Then again, there was little point arguing everything he saw wrong with the mare’s philosophy with her personal servant. It would do little to change the situation he was in, even if he could break through the apparent indoctrination this unicorn had instilled into her. This conversation did reveal something to the pegasus though. That Schorl had some form of limits, and that while she didn’t strongly enforce them on those who paid for her services, she would prefer that everypony followed them.
As Pathfinder wondered if he could use this somehow, and whether it could get him and Scylla out of there, Mint pulled out a folding chair. She placed it just outside of closet, then told Path, “Have a seat. You’ve earned a break.”
“Well thank you.” Path said, happy to do as he was told.
“A short break, while I sort out who still needs to be served the drinks you spilt.”
“I got it…” Path answered, not very happy about how accusatory Mint suddenly. Then again, she probably didn’t mean it as such, and it was just a misphrasing or poor inflection. His ‘accident’ was causing her more work, and it was easy to see how that could make anypony a little indignant.
With that, the mare left Path to his own little part of the room, a distance away from every other pony in it. Path intended to use this time to try and relax his mind, perhaps even sneak in a small nap, but as soon as he shut his eyes he heard an announcement.
“Fillies and Gentlecolts, today we have a real treat for you all. Our gracious host, Lady Tourmaline, has decided that she would wish to perform this evening, and entertain you all in song as you enjoy the pleasures of her club.”
Upon opening his eyes, he found the club’s lighting had grown darker, and that all the other ponies in the room were bring their conversations to low murmurs. Apparently this was something big, and despite his want to rest, Path had to admit that this was something that caught his attention and interest as well.
Equestria Trainers' Society: Fish Out of Water
From the sideline position of his folding chair, Pathfinder locked his eyes on the stage, the dim light just enough to make out the silhouettes in the room. Whatever show Schorl had planned for her guests was about to start, and the pegasus was just as curious about what the headmistress of the Society was going to do as any of the members.
As things were set up in the darkness, his sharp eyes spotted several figures moving from the back of the stage. His ears could detect the sound of hooves against wood and the rattling of metal links tingling together, even over the sea of murmurs made by the other attendees. It seemed like the crystal mare was going to display some loathsome, sadistic tendencies for the club, something which everypony in the room not wearing a collar would surely applaud her for. That was what he expected, but when a set of spotlights flashed on, Path got something completely different.
In a shimmering barrage of sparkles, the light projected at the front of the stage revealed a crystal mare standing there. Path had missed Schorl in the darkness, her deep purple, translucent form blending in with the shadows perfectly. But now, in the light, she was the most visually striking thing in the room as it refracted through her body, only being blocked by the sequined evening gown she wore that matched the color of her flesh perfectly. The spotlights dimmed a little after, as the spectacular shimmering was a bit much for onlookers, but this dazzling moment captured the attention and stunned all who witnessed it, bringing the room to sheer silence. With all other mouths now stifled, the crystal unicorn stepped forward to a microphone standing in front of her, took it in her hands, and put her lips up to the device.
“A long, long time ago, I had my own kingdom. Was a beautiful, lovable, princess.~” She started, singing with a voice that Path was surprised came from this villainous figure. It was sorrowful, but sweet, echoing of both pain and, somehow, a sense of longing. “But he cast a shadow, shrouded so dark, cause it to fade away~. But honey, now the turn is miiinnneee~”
With the finishing of her intro, a musical accompany filled the room. A jazzy, somewhat upbeat tune that felt completely different from the mood she had been setting before. What Path had believed was going to be a somber recounting of old wounds turned a complete one-eighty, with both the music and the growing smile on Schorl’s face making it feel more like a celebration of the sorrows she was previously speaking of.
“Three, two, one,” she said, removing the mic from its stand while counting down with the fingers on her other hand, each number bringing another spotlight to life.
The first two revealed in this manner were some mature looking mares, a pair of unicorns each with their own microphones, followed by a lime green earth stallion with greenish, blue hair, looking to have just reached adulthood. Each of these new additions to the act had nothing on but a collar, indicating their slave status, with the nervous looking male having a chain attached to his collar that led out to where Schorl was standing. From the look on this stallion’s face, the way he used his hands to cover his cock sheath like his privates were at stake, and that chain leading to danger, Path could tell his part in this was not going to be mere display.
With a quick grasping of her hand at what looked to be nothing, Schorl took hold of the other end of the stallion slave’s chain and reeled him in over to her, forcing him to stand next to her as she continued her performance, stepping side to side and swaying her hips as she resumed singing.
“A night mare made of crystal, hid from the sun~. Looks like Sandbar’s got a little date, let’s have some fun~.” The crowd applauded briefly as the show ramped up to the actual meat of the performance, and the reveal of Schorl’s victim for the evening. With a pleased smile, Schorl tugged this young male’s leash again, forcing him to look her eye to eye. “We got lots to do, little servant boy, to make you completely mine~. To make the perfect slave colt~,” She sung, running her free hand gently, seductively slow across his hardened shaft, before grasping it with the tips of her fingers, digging her nails into sensitive, exposed flesh, “Some sin must be done~.”
The young male winced, but was too afraid to pull away. Path felt the stallion on stage could overpower the crystal mare, if he had to, but here he was pretty much letting Schorl have her way with him. Then again, what would he do in this situation after he tried such a thing, surrounded by members and with Schorl’s minotaur bodyguard no doubt close by watching everything?
To Sandbar’s relief, Schorl released her painful grip almost as quickly as she started it, turning away from him while giving him a bit of slack, and to Path’s surprise, a bit of the sorrow and longing from the start of the song returned to the crystal unicorn’s voice.
“I was once told what to do and what to say~. I couldn’t escape~. Heeee got to chose the ending of my fate, and locked me away~”
And just as before, the moment of sorrow gave way to glee as Schorl’s saddened eyes turned to malice, and her sadistic smile returned as she slowly turned her attention back to the lime green stallion. If Path wasn’t watching closely to this act, he would have sworn two seperate mares were performing it.
“But noooot anymoooorrre~” she said, pulling Sandbar to her with a violent jerk, gripping his muzzle with her free hand to direct his vision to her more personally this time. “I’m in controool~. I have the stage~. I’m out of my cage~. Now, all eyes on me~!” While keeping her grip on both the stallion’s leash and muzzle, Schorl turned he own head to the audience, repeating her last line again in a very throaty manner as she shook her body provocatively, “All eyes on meee~”
At this point, the two unicorns in the back joined in, giving their own “Ba-dops~” and “Do-bops~” to the song, acting as the backup singers they were brought there to be, and dancing their own little forced jigs, showing how much they were being made to participate in this and how unnerved they were to be a part of the stallion’s abuse.
They might as well have not existed though, because as Schorl continued to sing, every eye in the room was locked on her and what she would do next, including Pathfinder’s. If there was one thing that he had to give to her, it was that she carried a certain cruel charisma about her that could not be ignored. This spectacle was just her putting that to full strength, exuding a magnetic aura of dominance and sadistic beauty most dominant females would be jealous of.
“So many experiments, that I wish to make~. To taunt and tease your flesh~. Till you’re my perfect slave~!”
Schorl sung, running her hands across the bare body of her captive, ending the last sentence of the verse with a rough scratch across his chest, using those long, sharp nails to cut through his fur straight to the skin underneath. Sandbar recoiled at this, which provoked more lyrics from the mare.
“You resist, with all of your will~. That’s something I aim to take~. My demons, they want you now, cause you’re the sacrifice they’ve claimed~.” With her expression changing to a bit of smugness, the crystal mare circled around the earth pony once, “Yoooouuuu want to say that you just can’t be tamed, and put me to shame~. Yoooouuuuu, think resolve will keep away the chains I’ll put in your brain~.”
Once Schorl made one full rotation around the stallion, ending up back at his front, the mood of the act dramatically shifted. The tune switched from up beat to one that cared a certain dread about it, and Schorl suddenly grasped the stallion by his skull, digging fingers in harshly as she once more aimed his face directly at hers. Her previous actions could be seen as playfully mean, at least by someone familiar with BDSM like Pathfinder, but this was just malicious.
“FOOOOCUS ON MEEEEE~!!!” she practically yelled at the poor earth pony, managing to match melody of the music despite her drastic change in attitude. Sandbar’s eyes went wide with terror as he stared at, from what Path could tell seeing the stallion’s reaction, the face of evil itself.
Schorl, easing up a bit, made her horn glow as if casting a spell, and for a split second, Path believed he could see the same dark purple energy that covered her horn in Sandbar’s eyes. With only a blink, any sign of that energy was gone, as was any of that malice that Schorl wore on her face just seconds before. As she went on with her song, she was looking quite pleased with herself, while Sandbar looked positively timid and unnerved.
“I’ll be aaaallll that you see~. I’ll make you sway~. You can’t run away~ All eyes on meeee~!”
With the stallion as emotionally beaten as he was, all Schorl had to do was give him a light push to cause him to fall backwards onto the stage, tripping over the wire of Schorl’s microphone that she had managed to wrap around his ankles during the performance. And like a predator playing with its food, the crystal mare hovered over the prone pony at her hooves before slowly going to her knees next to him, and then proceeded to lay herself across his frightened form.
“Yooouuu, don’t know what it’s like to slip away, in an ocean of pain~.” Schorl sang softly, the music and her touches following in suit as she caressed Sandbar’s face, which scared the stallion to no end. Even he had picked up on the pattern of what followed all of Schorl’s gentler gestures. “Cause heeeee, my king~... Drove me insaaaannnneeeee~!”
The beat picked up again, the song a disorganized mess of tempos and melodies that somehow fit together to make it incredible. It very much reflected Schorl herself in Path’s mind as, regardless of how terrible the things she was into were, the only way he could describe them was ‘incredible’, though not in the positive connotation the word usually held.
“But nooot anymooorrreee~!” sang Schorl, rising back to her hooves, holding one of the closer sections of Sandbar’s chain leash in her hand, “I’m in controool~!” she declared, pulling the subdued stallion so hard by the collar that he went from being on his back to landing on all fours. “I have the stage~! You have to obey~! Now, do as you’re told~!”
Setting a hoof on the back of the earth pony’s spine, Schorl affirmed his place under her by making him support most of her weight as she wrapped up her performance, leading into the final verse by saying “Once more, to the beat, boy.”
With Sandbar appearing dominated, Schorl took her eyes away from him, and instead looked outward to the crowd, addressing them directly instead of focusing on the slave stallion. “Fooocus on meee~! I’ll be aaaallll that they seeee~! I’ll make them sway~. No, can’t run away~! Now all eyes on me~! Now all eyes on, All eyes on me~!”
And with that, the song, as well as the punishing exhibition on the stallion on stage, came to a close. The music cut, and the lights brightened to illuminate the room to the way it was pre-performance. The members in the room, amazed by the show, gave their cheers and clapped their hands. Path, however, was speechless at what he had saw. The young, adult male had not been beaten or bruised in any extreme fashion. Even Pathfinder himself had suffered worse at the hands of the Society’s members by this point, but there was something… ‘brutal’ about what Schorl had done to him.
Just watching how Sandbar still shook with tears in his eyes as the crystal mare removed herself from his back showed that he had, in some manner, been mentally destroyed. As if the parts in the song aimed at the stallion had spelled out exactly what Schorl did to him, binding his mind to her whims. If that was seriously something Schorl could do, then she was not just sadistic, egotistical, and mad... She was outright scary.
At the very least, now that the song was done, so was the torture Sandbar had endured. That was, unless Schorl intended to do some sort of encore, but that didn’t seem likely. From Path’s perspective, it seemed like most members liked to plan out a single activity for their victims for the day, and often were done once that activity was finished. He was probably wrong, but this one and done approach was all he had experienced in his sessions so far. Luckily for the other stallion, it appeared to hold true this time too, as Schorl took a moment to say something to him before leading him off stage, Sandbar being made to crawl submissively behind her.
“What a fantastic performance by our headmistress,” said the club’s announcer, “What a beautiful voice. Now ready your eyes and ears for our follow-up act, an exclusive performance from one of the Society’s most famous slaves; Countess Coloratura!”
The curtains at the back of the stage spread apart, revealing the very pony that the announcer had introduced, wearing a lewd outfit made of black, see-through thigh high stockings and a similarly transparent skin tight fishnet leotard, as well as a rhinestone laiden collar locked around her throat. Unlike the last slave, she didn’t need to be dragged out, and even looked a little happy to be there. With no hesitation, fear or shame, she took the mic that Schorl had used before, and lustfully ran her tongue across the bulb on the top end of it as the music for her hit song ‘The Spectacle’ started playing.
Path hardly had time to take in the surrealism of this scene playing out before him, or think about how another famous pony like her could willingly end up as slave in this place, before somepony else reminded him of the position he was in.
A quick set of hands managed to flip up the skirt of the waitress uniform he was wearing, and took his cock in their grasp before the stallion was even aware it was happening. It was only when he felt a small, yet sizable, solid ball-shaped object that he became aware that he was under attack, and his eyes darted downward.
But by the time his eyes landed on the tip of his cock, a rather long bead wand was already being shoved slowly inside the tight hole on the top. The wand then pushed down into his shaft, it finding only a slight resistance that caused a mild feeling of discomfort for the pegasus.
“Stop!” he cried out reactively, reaching for the hand with the wand. The moment he did though, the wand was forced in at four times the strength, pushing in not only the first ball in completely, but the next two after it as well. This made Path yelp as he was suddenly and painfully penetrated for the third time in his life in the tightest hole his body had to offer.
“You brought it on yourself,” said Sweet Mint, the pony inserting the solid object inside Pathfinder’s penis, directly into his ear to overcome Coloratura’s performance, “The bead wand is for dropping the drinks and breaking Society property, and that thrust was for attempting to halt your punishment. Besides, if you hadn’t gotten hard from watching the mistress’ performance, I wouldn’t have been able to penetrate you so easily.”
Path blushed, he had been slightly turned on, but it was because of Coloratura’s appearance on stage in that sultry and revealing outfit, not Schorl’s abuse on Sandbar.
“Now then, if you try to stop me again, I’ll push the rest in all at once. Do you understand?”
Pathfinder held his hands up the the sides of his head, and nodded, not wanting to experience the same pain he felt during his run in with Whiplash again. If he was going to get through this without his urethra being sore for a week, he had to let the maid have her way.
Seeing Path’s compliance, reluctant as it was, Sweet Mint continued her task. Slowly, steadily, she slipped more and more of the beads into Path’s flesh pillar, the stiff staff still receiving a good majority of pain as each bead passed through. Path endured it though, as best as he could, his grunts and groans being drowned out by the pop music filling the room.
Eventually, every last bead on the wand found their way inside, large bumps bulging out from the lower part of the pegasus’ cock. Assuming it was over, Path tried to relax, but was stopped from doing so as the unicorn tightened her grip on his sex organ, squeezing her finger in between the valleys the beads now made in his urethra.
Path continued to try and not resist, and for the most part he was able to keep his composure despite his heart pound hard against the inside of his ribcage. That was until Mint used her other hand to twist the handle of the wand. At first he winced, anticipating that the balls inside him were going to rotate, but the maid’s grip was too strong to let them budge. Instead, the handle began to turn without the rest of the wand following, until eventually, the maid mare unscrewed it altogether from the device.
As the handle separated, fear inside Path ignited, “What did you do?!” he yelled at the maid, his mind conjuring ideas of the bead stick being stuck in there forever, or that it might actually try to go deeper inside him than it already was.
Sweet strengthened her grip a bit more, just momentarily to remind Path of the position he was in, “Be still,” she commanded, revealing another small object that looked like a tiny shackle that couldn’t possibly fit around the wrist of an adult pony, “I’ve been trained to do this sort of thing without complications, so long as I’m not interrupted.”
Sweet Mint took the opened metal loop and put it around the base of Path’s cock, slipping its width snuggly between the bead at the very bottom of the wand, and the next highest one up the rod. By squeezing the two ends of the band together to form a complete ring, the metal object locked in place, allowing Mint to remove her hand as it hugged Path’s stiff sex organ instead.
“There,” said the unicorn, running a finger along the newly formed bulges in his erect flesh, “That will make sure the beads stay put.”
Path winced as he was touched, mostly in pain, but in a small way he could feel a bit of pleasure from this, with his abused and stretched out meat able to take in the sensation of touch much more easily.
“Everything looks good, so now you can get back to work.” said Mint, standing herself up. “And this time, don’t drop anything.”
The maid walked away to return to whatever duties she had, and Path could only reluctantly comply with her orders. If he wanted to see Scylla, the pegasus had to do a good job, even while there was a large, invasive object in his dick forcing it to full erection. Getting out of his chair, the sissified stallion went to get a tray and return to taking orders for the Society members.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the room in a private booth, Scylla was just finishing up on the cider she had been provided, managing to make it last through the entirety of Schorl’s performance, and was now onto her second glass which was graciously provided by her current client.
“I didn’t know that Coloratura did shows in a place like this,” Scylla said to the pegasus sitting next to her, the alcohol in her system loosening up her nerves a lot since she first came into the clubroom.
“She’s a new addition to the Society’s roster of performers” The pegasus said as he rubbed on Charming Tales’ clit liberally, the mare not taking any measures to prevent him as she leaned back and moaned near silently to herself. “Her master, Svengallop, has been having her do a show here about once a week in order to advertise her talents to potential business partners.”
“I bet lots of ponies will want to have her sing for them once they see her here,” Scylla replied innocently, not even realizing the heightened sexual nature of the pop star’s performance. As she watched the flashy earth mare rub her exposed form, touching her curves all over between lines of lyrics, it just looked like a normal act.
“Well there is that,” The pegasus said, dipping a few of his digits into Charming’s slickened slit, “But ponies can also order her for private sessions, just like yourselves.”
Taking his hands off of the mares for a moment, the pegasus stallion grabbed a laminated menu from the table. Turning a few of its pages, he placed the menu in front of the kelpie for her to peruse through. Scylla was confused at first, assuming it would just have a list of food or drinks inside, but when she took a moment to look at what it held, she instead found several pictures of ponies.
“See, she’s right here.” the pegasus said, pointing to a picture of Coloratura, “Any member here who wishes to have some free time with a pop sensation can do so at the cost of a modest fee.”
Taking a closer look at the menu as she took a large sip of her cider, Scylla examined a box filled with text next to the image of the mare. It listed a lot of things about Coloratura, like her height, breast size, likes, dislikes, and other such details to inform those who rented her out exactly what they were going to get. At the very bottom of the box though, was the price for her service, which made Scylla cough up her drink so fast that small amounts hit her gills, cause a burning sensation to occur and further obstructing her breathing.
After a small bit of sputtering, Scylla managed to choke out, “That’s more than I make in a year!”
The pegasus chuckled at the girl, “I would assume so. You expect a celebrity like her to make the salary of a commoner?”
That wasn’t what surprised Scylla so much, as a famous mare would surely be worth more than she was. What was amazing was that the total Scylla saw was for a mere two hours with Coloratura. Remembering that all money made by slaves went directly to their masters, whoever owned the pop star was making a small fortune each time she was requested. To think that you could make that much on prostitution was amazing, and even more so that the one performing the act never saw a bit of it. The idea of it made the kelpie a bit woozy, or perhaps that was her drink getting to her. Honestly she was starting to feel a bit of a buzz, but the kelpie was trying her best to keep it together.
“Hey look at this,” Charming Tale said, having confiscated the menu, “We’re both on the list too.”
The unicorn scooted closer to the pegasus beside her, as did Scylla, in order to get a better look at the menu together. The two of them had their own page, along with the other of the Society’s elements, showing them off as a set. Each of them were given similar description boxes, just like the other available slaves, but their images were not simple headshots like the rest.
From the looks of it, Schorl had gotten a professional illustrator to make drawings of the six Elements of Servitude, ones made with incredibly realistic features that presented each mare, and gryphoness, in a sexually stunning and alluring nude pose. Looking at her own illustrated self made Scylla blush a bit, as she was being depicted as being timidly sweet, while also very womanly in the setting they had placed her in.
Probably to fit the member’s expected ideals of a kelpie, Illustrated Scylla was in a wading pool, hanging onto the side with her breasts resting on the concrete floor around it. Her backside was lifted up via buoyancy, allowing her tail and backside to be in view, letting the members get a good look at all the better features of the aquatic mare at once. For something that was created by the Society, it was a very artistic depiction of Scylla’s naked body, one that she would have been more in awe of if she wasn’t a bit tipsy.
Instead, the kelpie’s eyes glanced over the image, and back to the price Schorl had put on her body. “Wow,” Scylla said, “That’s like a month’s worth of bits for an hour with me.” Scylla was amazed that her body was worth so much, seeing herself as not being all that special when it came down to it.
“You have to understand,” said the pegasus, bringing Scylla’s glass back in front of her face, to which she took a drink from without thinking, “You are not only an exotic creature, but a high class commodity.”
“Oh, stop.” Scylla replied, enjoying the flirting she was receiving much more than she should have, considering that the stallion only wanted her for her body.
“Well it’s true. No matter where you all came from, no matter what common occupation you might have had, here you are special. You are important property to be maintained and groomed to be the sex toys of sophisticated ponies such as myself. Thus, you’re worth the bits we put into you, in order for us to get the quality we demand from those who work to pleasure us.”
“But you’re really willing to pay that much for a prostitute?” Scylla asked aloud, accepting to some degree that the title indeed fit her role as a slave.
“My dear Submission,” the pegasus said, referring to Scylla by her element designation as he had been the whole night, “I make that kind of money or more in the course of a day, and one doesn’t pay five bits for a corner whore when they can get a luxury mare like yourself.”
Scylla felt her heart skip a beat, her inhibitions dulled enough for her to be pulled in by the pegasus’ attempts at charm. There was something pleasing, and somewhat romantic, about being told that she was valued, even if only as a sex slave. To this stallion, she was not just a map maker, but an attractive mare that he would pay a hefty amount of money so he could share a bed with her.
“The both of you might be some pony’s property,” said the pegasus, “But that doesn’t mean that you’re being treated as less than you were. On the contrary, you are being made into your ideal images, tempered and forged into the treasures that you are suppose to be.”
Scylla was enamoured with the idea of being treated like treasure, something precious that was sought after and even fought over for ownership. Her face scrunched up with excitement, believing in her inebriated state the pegasus really felt this way about her.
Charming Tale, on the other hand, was not as under the influence as her associate, and was able to tell that this was all just flowery words coming from a source that wanted to take advantage of the two of them. She had written his character plenty of times in her erotic stories, and never were they as smooth as their depictions would make one believe. Still, she was a character in one of those stories now, and she had to play her part as well.
“And what would you have pieces of treasure like us do?” She asked, pretending to have been overcome by the pegasus’ charm, pressing her bare chest against his, a few pieces of thick fabric all that separated them from full on contact, “Surely there is some fantasies you would want fulfilled by our forms.”
“Heh,” the stallion laughed, believing his plans were going along as he predicted, “Well there is something you two can do, if you’d like to earn a few more tip slips.” He pulled out a stack of the near worthless slave currency and waved them in front of the two mares like they were made of gold.
“I would love to make some more spending money.” Charming replied, not really wanting the slips, but instead wanting to build a reputation.
As the kirin explained before, popularity and desirability were the most valuable things a Society slave could have. If the Society members paid for your use, your master would make more money off you. The more money they made, the better they would treat you, and the more breaks you were likely to get. For a pony who could no longer truly own anything, these privileges were the greatest things they could possess, and thus should be sought after feverently.
“Well then… How about a little sample?” The pegasus said, a devious smirk forming on his face.
“A sample?” Scylla asked, not able to decipher his implications in her state.
The pegasus laid his stack of paper currency on the table, and without hesitation undid his pants in front of the two mares, revealing that he had no additional articles of clothing on underneath as his semi-swelled cock was exposed.
“Just a little demonstration of your talents,” the pegasus explained, “So I can see if it really would be worth renting either of you.”
With the stallion’s attention turned to Scylla, Charming made a disgusted expression as she examined the dick. It was covered with sweat, the moisture giving the appendage a glistening sheen when the lights from Coloratura’s act slid across it. It had probably not been washed at all that day, and the unicorn didn’t believe this male was expecting a hand job.
“So, you want me to do this?” Scylla questioned as she lowered her upper body down, greeting the meaty horse dick with her face. With no reservation, she opened her mouth and lapped at the sex organ like it was a popsicle. A small touch here, and longer lick there, daintily pushing at the male’s privates with her tongue in a random pattern of brief contact.
In response, the stallions penis rose up, its thick stiffness going to near maximum from Scylla’s teasing. His wings likewise flickered with each wet touch of the kelpie’s tongue, the span of them growing wide, as well did the smile on his face as his plans came to fruition.
“That’s a good slave,” said the pegasus, sliding one of the tip coupons off his stack to Scylla’s side of the table, before using the same hand to grip her by the mane. “But use that tongue for more than tapping.”
The strong grip of her hair was rough, but not nearly to the extent of roughness she was use to with Rubric. Compared to how uncaringly her minotaur master handled her, this was both gentle and a little thrilling, at least with her thoughts the way they were. So at the stallion’s command, Scylla took her tongue and ran it from the bottom of the flesh rod, all the way to the head of it. Going over bulging veins filled with warm blood, and bloated flesh muscle that was becoming as firm as stone, the kelpie eagerly covered her mouth organ in the grime and dirt that had accumulated on the member’s shaft over the course of an unknown amount of time. She found the flavor of it much more acceptable to her palate than that of the bovine cum she had been force fed straight from the tap as of late, which had far too potent a sexual flavor for a pony to stomach without feeling queasy.
With Scylla firmly held in the palm of his hand, both figuratively and literally, the pegasus looked to Charming, “Obedience, are you really going to let your friend here do all the work?” he asked, a slight irritation in his words.
Charming, as much as she didn’t want to, had to agree with the slaver stallion’s sentiments. As a slave, and one that should be doing her best to present herself as desirable, she was doing a piss poor job selling herself. She had to get into character, become the sex slave the members expected, and make her mark in their eyes. First impressions were everything, afterall.
Remember, Charming thought to herself as she joined her face with Scylla’s at the stallion’s crotch, You’re on vacation.
With that little bit of mental motivation, the unicorn got to work. Wrapping her fingers around the base of the pegasus’ cock, she took an unhesitated taste at his stallionhood. There was more coating his shaft than that mere sweat she had assumed was there before, as a strong, sour taste hit her tongue immediately upon making contact. She was right to assume it hadn’t been wash, but hadn’t concluded that in a place like this he might have already used one of the other slaves for his amusement, that was until now. There was no denying the distinct flavor of mare that hit her senses, reminding her of the times she had sampled of her own juices for ‘research’ in her writing.
That knowledge didn’t hinder her though, Charming effectively turning off any voices that would prevent her from pleasing this stallion orally. She matched every saliva filled slurp that her kelpie partner made, and did her one further by pressing her lips against the flesh in her hand, giving it an occasional light suck in between her loving licks. To some extent, she had to out do Scylla. As much as they were both victims, and friends, they were also rivals. If she allowed Scylla to one up her too much, then it would come back to her in the form of a displeased minotaur.
The pegasus looked very pleased from Charming’s new position, the expression he made telling that he felt entirely responsible for getting the two girls on his cock, and not holding it into account that this was just what the Society expected of their slaves. Following another thing the kirin said before, it appeared this member enjoyed the idea of being smarter than the two slaves he had manipulated into giving him a free blowjob. Not only that, but being the first to use not one, but two of the new Elements of Servitude must have added to the feelings of smug satisfaction he was experiencing. In his mind, Scylla and Charming were like shy, reserved creatures, that he easy made do this lewd acts with a little coaxing and charm. True or not, this perceived reality made him happy.
And while in his own world, he saw no reason not to take full advantage of it. With no real need to keep the slave’s heads in place, he decided to put his hands to delightfully devilish use. With their focuses on satisfying his shaft, he extended his arms out to reach for their nicely rounded asses. Placing his hands on the two mare’s plump cheeks, he liberally squeezed their posteriors in his palms. Both the mares made sounds of elation from his touches, but did not deter from their duty towards the dick in front of them.
Establishing their dedication to their role, the pegasus decided to test things even further. “Both of you, lift your tails.”
The mares did as they were told, holding their tails upwards as much as they could. Their obedience was almost as pleasurable as their touches, but the stallion wanted to take it another step further. Groping his way around their asses, his fingers made their way to the mare’s lower lips. With a light pinch of their labia, he pulled the fatty flaps apart to open the holes that led to their wombs. He couldn’t see it, but just picturing what it looked like as they clean his cock was enough.
Well, not quite enough, as there was still one more thing that he wanted to explore while he had a private audience with the two. First, he needed something from the girls. Just a small something that would make this all the more easy.
“You know, you two have been doing a very good job cleaning me off.” said the pegasus, rubbing his fingers against whatever bits of pussy flesh they could find, “But you both still don’t seem all that into it. I only feel a little bit of wetness down here.”
Charming admittedly was only just getting in the mood, but using some depraved thoughts on eroticism she had stored in her head and a fondling of her own modest breasts, she was able to get her juices flowing fairly easily. Scylla, on the other hand, was working herself to a state of moistness without any outside influencers. Being there, in nothing but a slave collar, with a mind clouded from the danger she previously perceived, licking some stranger’s dick under the cover of a table, was exciting her to no end. Before long, both girls had their own streams of fluids trickling out of them onto the seat they laid across.
This was all the stallion needed, and as he played with their vaginal holes his fingers became saturated with their slick slit slime. Once satisfied, he went to the final phase of his plan. With a last synchronized lick of his fingertip against their soaked lady lips, he brought his fingers up across their taints, and before they realized what was going on, he had put his lubricated digits up to their anal holes, and drove them in with a single hard push.
Both slave mares halted their service towards the shaft in front of them, Scylla letting out a deep gasp, while Charming’s mouth released want could only be called the throaty moan of an anal whore.
“Ah ha,” the pegasus declared triumphantly to Charming, “Seems I found your weak point.”
Identifying that the unicorn’s asshole was very receptive, the stallion wriggled his fingers around a bit inside her, grabbing at the soft walls of her back passage. Charming’s reaction to this was a sight to behold, as her spine curved and her head flew back, eyes and mouth clenched as she tried to withhold her pleasure. The warmth of her insides was nice as well, and the texture of her pipes hugged his digits while giving against any force like a pillow. It was the kind of ass that made for an excellent cock sheath, and one that he anticipated reaming now that he felt it.
Scylla’s anal reactions were cute, but less impressive. As he fingered her more leathery textured intestines, she was doing her best to keep to her job, letting out small grunts as her tongue continue to do it’s best to get him off. To her credit, he was really close to shooting a load, but that wasn’t what he wanted. What he desired was a mare that he could make completely lose control.
All this time, he had intended to rent one of the mares if they sparked his interest, but he lusted over more than mere obedience and submission. What he wanted was the ability to bring one of these mares out of their shells completely, and to drive them wild with his sexual prowess. To have full control over these mares, still at a phase of their enslavement where they were reluctant to do the simplest of tasks without an impressive amount of coaxing and threats.
Seeing how wild a bit of anal fondling drove Charming, the pegasus’ decision was all but finalized. He was going to have to place an order for the lovely unicorn mare, as well as for a room for the evening.
“Waitress!” he called out to no pony in particular, not looking up from the two girls he was anally masturbating.
Just beyond the booth Scylla was at, Pathfinder was fulfilling his role as server to the best of his abilities. After the first incident with him, the members started treating him like any other slave pony there, refraining from the teasing the majority had participated in before. They had already gotten what they wanted out of him, having riled him up and gotten him in trouble for breaking Society property. Thus, they had little reason to do a repeat performance, at least so soon.
So the rest of his shift, up to this point, was fairly calm. The sissified pegasus male took his orders and delivered them with as much quality one could expect from a pony in his position, and the worst thing that happened was that one of the members would attempt to flirt with him for a few moments before he found an excuse to leave their table.
Things were going along smoothly, and he could only assume that his shift wouldn’t last much longer because the acts had stopped after Coloratura did a rendition of her hit song that was surely a Society exclusive, the mare having done all but cum on stage as she explored her body during the performance in lewd exhibition. Then again, maybe she had gotten off, because there was a slave mare on the stage with a mop and bucket.
It was all so bizzare, when Path thought about it. This place was filled with ponies, all under the understanding that the bodies of those serving ing there was on sale, and yet everyone was acting out the roles of the patrons and workers of an average strip club. Not a single person acted out of place, except for Path himself. The members showed no remorse for what they were doing, or pity towards those being held against their will, and the slaves did their best to keep said members happy through hard work and flirtatious demeanors.
There were a few who were more distant from those practically whoring out themselves to the members, like Path, but even they were acting more like they wanted to stay focused on their jobs than what he would assume victims of kidnapping and rape would be. It was all too… ‘normal’. A place of evil such as this shouldn’t have been able to create such an atmosphere where ponies could so casually commit crimes while their victims either collaborated with those unjustly imprisoning them, or passively allowing them to do as they pleased while you just watched from the sidelines.
Then again, maybe he had no room to judge. He wasn’t really doing anything more than any other pony in the room. He was just as whipped into his role as anypony else, if not more so, seeing as he currently had a bead wand shoved in his forcibly stiffened dick, and was acting like a common waitress despite it.
How did Schorl design a place where this sort of stuff could happen and no one bats an eye to it? Path thought to himself as he set a few more drinks in front of a pair of members, receiving a firm slap on his ass as a reward for his efforts. Ignoring the invasion of personal space, Path pondered on the topic of Schorl a bit more.
As her performance showed, she appeared to have some sort of power about her. It wouldn’t be strange if she had some sort of unique magic that aided her in operating this place, as unicorns often had access to spells that were contributed to their talents. What could it be though? Not something as simple as mind control, since that kind of power would make actual training almost unnecessary. Maybe she could create a pacification field of some sorts, or enchanted the slaves with something that caused them to perceive the perverse acts here as normal interactions. Path quickly dismissed the idea of the latter, as if that were the case he probably wouldn’t be wondering about all this in the first place. The former, though, did have some credibility from what he was seeing.
“Waitress!” the pegasus heard, drawing his attentions from his thoughts. A quick look in the direction of the call led him to a booth, and sitting there was another pegasus stallion with his hands down. Remembering what he was told by Mint, and recalling all the other times he was summoned that evening, he knew this meant that the member wanted a male waitress instead of a female one; one such as himself.
With tray in hand, Path made his way over. “Yes sir, how may I serve you?” he asked offhandedly, not really looking at the stallion as he awaited his orders.
“I need you to reserve a slave for me for the next few hours.” the other pegasus said, getting straight to the point.
“Reserve a slave?” Path questioned. He hadn’t had to do anything like that before, and Sweet Mint didn’t tell him what to do in the event of guests wanting to do so. “I’m... afraid I don’t know how to do that.”
“It’s not that hard,” said the stallion, “Just repeat what I say to your supervisor, and they will handle the rest. Understand?”
“Yes sir…” Pathfinder replied, though he really didn’t know where Mint had wandered off to either.
“I want to rent a standard private room for two hours, and want Obedience of the Elements to accompany me.” the stallion said.
The last part of the request confused Path, as he didn’t know what the ‘elements’ were, or what ‘Obedience’ referred to. To him, it just sounded like the stallion was jumbling his words. So to clarify, Path asked back to him “Obedience?”.
“This slut right here.” the pegasus said, removing his fingers from Charming Tale’s ass so he could take her by the collar and raise her head up into view. “You’re pretty clueless, aren’t you?”
“Sorry, I’m ne-” Path directed his eyes to the pegasus in order to get a look at the slave in question, but his heart sunk in terror when he noticed that the other stallion had two mares accompanying him. One was a unicorn, and the other, while he couldn’t see her face, he could tell was a kelpie from the large, aquatic tail poking out from the table’s horizon.
“Scylla?!” Path yelled in fear, the image of a mare’s head ducked under a table in the direction of a male’s crotch explaining everything about what was going on.
Hearing her name, Scylla lifted her head up to confirm Path’s assumptions, but couldn’t tell who Path was from a combination of the dim lighting, inebriated vision, and currently mare-ish looks.
“Do I know you?” she asked, her response somewhat callus towards what looked to be some random mare she had never met before.
“Yes, you know me!” Path said, in a panic, “I’m your father!”
“Oh!” Scylla responded, recognizing Path’s voice more than his appearance, “Hey dad, how have you been?”
“Wait, you’re her father?” said the member, a bit stunned. Taking in the situation, and realizing how he mistakenly had his fingers inside the mares when he called for a waitress, thus resulting in this mix up. “I see, so we have a dolled up twink in our presence.”
Scylla giggled at that comment, to which Path didn’t take too kindly to, yelling “Scylla!” again at his daughter to scold her for her faux pas.
“Sorry,” the kelpie apologized, while still laughing, “But he’s right. You look like a doll.” she said, not exactly knowing what the word twink meant.
Path couldn’t believe how his daughter, who had experienced the same violation as himself, could treat him being dressed like a girl against his will like it was a joke. It had to be more of Schorl’s influence, whatever it was she was doing. He had figured out one thing though, the crystal mare hadn’t done anything to prevent the slaves from getting angry, because at that moment Pathfinder felt like leaping the table and throttling the stallion for having his dick anywhere near Scylla.
In fact, that was exactly what he was going to do. Finding both sides of the stallion blocked by a body, going over the table to get to him was his best option. Putting his hands on the table top, Path lifted a leg up to place his knee onto the structure, ready to use it platform for him to leap at the other pegasus from. That was as far as he got though, as the moment he showed any aggression towards a member of the Society was the same moment a massive hand slammed down on the back of his neck.
With power that Path couldn’t hope to equal, the hand forced him forward, pressing his whole body flat on the table. Pathfinder’s rage quickly faded in his surprise, not knowing what had hit him. The way he was held, he couldn’t even turn his head to see what pinned him. But he came to a fast realization when he heard a familiar voice from behind.
“Is there a problem here?” said Schorl, meaning that the person pinning him down was her minotaur bodyguard. Path’s outbursts must have drawn her attention somehow, and with him focused solely on the bastard on the other side of the table, she and her muscle caught the drop on him.
“Don’t hurt my dad!” Scylla yelled out before another word was said, the attack on Path sobering her up a bit.
“Don’t worry, Submission,” said the stallion next to her in comforting tone, “No one is going to hurt him. We just need to make sure he doesn’t do something rash and hurt himself .”
“That’s right,” Schorl concurred, “Now that we have him restrained, we have no reason to do any more to him, so long as he relaxes and doesn’t resist.”
Path was disgusted by this turn of events, but he couldn’t fight back if he wanted to. As much as he loathed the stallion, Schorl, and his own weakness, he would have to do as the crystal mare said.
Pathfinder untensed his muscles, and in turn the minotaur on top of him eased up on his pinning just enough that it ceased to be painful. “It’s ok, Scylla.” he said, not wanting his daughter to panic. “They aren’t hurting me.”
“See, he’s not in trouble,” said the stallion, “Now how about finishing up what you were doing?”
“Do you want me to join too?” asked Charming.
“No, you have done enough,” said the member, “Just sit back and watch the kelpie.”
Path watched Scylla as she returned her head back below the table, a worried look in her eye.
In a matter of minutes, the stallion was ready to release his load, and with a grab of Scylla’s mane and a small thrust of his hips, he did just that. When finished, he let go of the kelpie girl, allowing her to rise back up as he placed his dick back into his pants. The white goo he had released was all over the front of her face, all in one large string that started at her forehead, and dripped down her furless feature, around the side of her muzzle to disappear into the collar around her throat.
“Have you been satisfied?” Schorl asked, taking Scylla’s service to be compensation for Pathfinder’s brashness.
“Not quite,” said the pegasus, grabbing his stack of tip slips and taking a few more off the top of it to place in front of Charming, “I was looking for a slave to play with tonight, and I was thinking about taking this unicorn and showing her how good I can make her feel.”
“So you would like me to set up a room for you and Obedience then?” Schorl asked, her professionalism showing at every part of this confrontation.
“No,” he said with a smug smirk and a shake of his head, “I’ve changed my mind. This girl’s father has shown me how very special she is, so I have decided to have her instead.”
“By all means,” Schorl said, seeing nothing wrong with the obvious motivations behind her client’s change of mind, “Just so long as you realize that her time will not be comped due to the rude behavior of another slave.”
“Oh, I intended to pay,” said the stallion, grabbing Scylla by the collar, “I am going to treat this mare with all the dignity that a slut of her caliber deserves, so that this femcolt knows that I not only bought his daughter’s body, but that she loved every second of it.” The pegasus member gestured for Charming to move aside, and she did as she was instructed, letting the stallion out of the booth with Scylla in tow.
As he headed for the club’s exit, Schorl gave him a small polite bow. “Please enjoy your time with her, and thank you for using our services again.”
The stallion didn’t reply, as there was nothing more that needed said. He had gotten everything he wanted from this, while Path was left with nothing. The kelpie in his firm grip hardly had enough time to give Pathfinder a departing sorrowful look, not concerned about herself, but her father’s own safety. As soon as she lost line of sight with him, she could only hope that nothing bad would happen in her absence.
Once the two left the room, Schorl brought her attention to more pressing matters, mainly the one being pressed against the table. “Miss Tale, go make your availability known to the other members. Your time has been hoarded all evening, and they will be glad to know you are now open.”
“Yes ma’am.” Charming said, not needing any more excuse to leave. She didn’t want to get wrapped up in whatever punishment Pathfinder was going to recieve.
Schorl watched the unicorn flee, and when she had got a significant distance away, she found herself able to address the problem at hand. “Did you enjoy your small moment of rebellion, Mister Finder?” She said, clasping her hands together behind her back as she leaned herself over the pinned pony.
Path, still fuming from what that other stallion did to his daughter, grumbled in response, before answering with a simple “No”.
“Of course you didn’t.” Schorl replied, his answer a forgone conclusion to her even before he uttered it, “Because hostile behavior was never going to go any further than it did. Do you believe that you encountered Scylla here on accident? It was part of my plan that you two would meet here, as part of the agreement we made.”
“Agreement?” Path said, before recognizing her meaning, “You mean that you’d let me see her?”
“Yes, and as you can see she is fine. Perfectly safe, and not harmed in any way. Had you not acted in anger, I would have even let you speak to her, but now I see that it is far too soon to have you both in the same room with one another.”
Path didn’t like what Schorl was saying, but had no way of going against her. Plus, he was still worried about that odd power he believed she displayed on stage. “Fine, I get it. You can get your guard off me.”
“Can I?” Schorl asked, bending over the table, pressing her chest and face against it to mirror Path’s forced pose. Her eyes widened to a full stare that was as if she were peering into his soul, but unnerving as it was Path kept his will strong, “From what I see you still have a powerfully defiant streak brewing inside you. That’s not the type of thing I can have in a free roaming slave. How can I trust you to do as you are told, or not to do something foolish when I’m not looking.”
“You still have Scylla, don’t you?” Path reasoned, “I can’t do anything if that might cause her to get hurt.”
“Do you think me a monster?” Schorl asked, completely unironically, “I would never punish a slave for the actions of another slave. You however, will have to take responsibility for what you have done.”
“What do you want me to do then?” Path said, having no reason to take Schorl by her word, but had hope that Scylla wouldn’t suffer if he went along with her will. She was a sadist, after all, so seeing him suffer would provide her with the type of entertainment her perverse mind craved.
Picking herself off of the table, Schorl went on to explain what she had in mind. “I think it’s time that you and I had some alone time,” she said, maintaining her tone of professionalism. “Perhaps if we have a little talk, where I can explain myself to you in ways that are… persuasive to a stallion of your upbringing, then you will see that what I do isn’t all that bad. That it can be a useful function to help our slaves grow, and become better ponies.”
“Doubtful,” Path objected.
Schorl rolled her eyes, gesturing to her bodyguard to lift Pathfinder up using her fingers. The minotaur complied, pulling the pegasus to his hooves while keeping a firm grip on Path’s arms with one hand, and his neck with the other.
“You will find, Mister Finder, that I can be very convincing.” said Schorl. “Now come along, we are going to my room.”
Having no ability to resist, Pathfinder was escorted out of the club, with very few ponies batting an eye at the scene of a minotaur manhandling another of their kind. This must have been all to common for them, and thus not something worth paying attention to. That was fine for Path though, as he had other things to worry about now. He had made it out of the lion’s den, but now he was going to be staring down the head lioness herself.
Author's Note
So here we are with the conclusion to Scylla and Pathfinder's brief visit into one of the club areas of the Society, both performing their roles as a serving slaves. After this three parter, we will be moving along to other things between the two, which I hope will be enjoyable, as i hoped this part was as well.
The song Schorl sung was a slightly altered version of the song "All Eyes on Me" by OR3O. You can find a link to the song here: Original and The version Schorl's performance was based on .
Our special guest pony today is Sandbar , whom is considered to be of proper raping age (18+) for the purposes of this story.
Equestria Trainers' Society: Fish Out of Water
Minutes after his attempted assault of a Society member, Pathfinder was escorted from the club room against his will by none other than Schorl Tourmaline herself, the mare only giving him enough time to be stripped of the dress he had been made to wear. Schorl had not bothered to have his hooves or hands bound, nor did she go through the effort of blindfolding him or doing anything else that would leave him helpless to her. All she had done was attach a leash to his collar, and told him to follow.
The two were not alone, as she had brought along with them the pony she had used as a prop in her stage performance, whom he recalled was named Sandbar, who was likewise leashed and made to follow the purple mare to whatever fate she had in store for them. There was also Sartek, the tower of muscles in minotaur form that served as Schorl’s personal bodyguard, walking just behind the two stallions to help motivate them along. Each time either of them let their leash grow taut, he would urge them to keep up with a not so gentle shove to the back of the head.
While Path humored thoughts of grabbing his leash and using it to pull his crystal captor to the ground, the pegasus was well aware that while his body was not restricted, he had no control over the situation. With a minotaur behind him, the halls around him narrow and their paths unknown to the pegasus, and the earth pony aside him shaking in fear as he focused his eyes to the floor, Path had nothing to work with. The female pony daintily tugging at the leather cord hooked to his collar might as well have been a full grown adult dragon with all the power she held.
So he walked, obediently going where the Society’s head mistress wanted him to go, hands never raising above waist height, always making sure that his hooves moved him fast enough to not provoke Sartek’s hand too often. As things were now, there was nothing he could do otherwise. He was, unfortunately, just a slave at the mercy of his owner.
“You know, Mr. Finder,” Schorl said suddenly, after having made a half dozen turns silently through the maze that was the Society’s halls, “Some of my clients would find your resistance a welcome attribute to your person.”
The crystal pony paused for a few seconds, enough time for Path to give his own comments to her random line of dialog. He didn’t reply though, not believing that any amount of witty banter, if he could even muster up anything that could be considered that, would do anything but make things worse for him.
Once his permitted speaking time expired, Schorl just went on talking without Pathfinder’s input. “There are a few members here that like a good fight. They have us lock them in a room with an untrained slave, unbound and unrestricted, so they ‘earn’ the right to rape them through physical domination. A few times, a member has even challenged their victim to fight them in a one on one boxing match or some other such sport, offering to purchase them and free them should they manage to beat them in a fair fight.”
“And you allow them to make those kind of deals?” Path asked, his curiosity that such a thing could exist in the Society overpowering his want to stay silent.
“Not really, but these kind of arrangements happen behind my back. It’s not usually a problem though, as those who make such offers are the physically active types, and would never lose in a ‘fair’ fight against those they challenge.”
“So you wouldn’t honor such an agreement, even if the pony did somehow win?” Path asked, just wanting to be sure.
“Heavens no,” Schorl said, getting a small laugh out of the fact that a question like that was even asked, “Freeing a slave would only cause trouble to the Society in the long run, and in that unexpected scenario I would have to refuse the purchase of the slave, which is something that the challenger would already know I’d have to do in this situation, of course. That is not the point of this conversation though.”
Of course it isn’t . Path thought to himself, already figuring out where this was heading.
“I only tell you this so that you understand that if you wish to be hostile towards our patrons, there are those who would gladly indulge in your aggression.” Schorl smiled to herself, dwelling on a pleasant thought, before finishing her sentiment by saying, “There is no way you can behave that can’t be packaged and marketed to our members as a commodity.”
“So you’re threatening to let them brutalize me if I don’t get in line?” Path asked, knowing well that this was the case.
“No,” Schorl objected, though immediately contradicted herself in the pegasus’ eyes by then saying, “I’m giving you a choice in what kind of slave you want to be. Because no matter what you do, you will be a slave. That fate was decided the moment you and your daughter were selected.”
“Well then,” Path said, ready to give the crystal mare’s offer the respect that he felt it deserved, “Can I be the kind of slave who gets to live in his own home, and who’s owner lets him live his life the way he wants to?”
For his sarcastic reply, Schorl wrenched his leash forward with as powerful a tug as she could muster, which made both him and Sandbar, whose leash was in the same hand, stumble over their own hooves for a few steps. As he had assumed, his smart mouth was only met with swift retribution.
However, Path’s sass didn’t appear to dampen Schorl’s mood at all. In fact, it seemed to brighten it, as within the same motion of yanking the leather straps securely around her wrist, she turned around to face her captives, wrapping the cords around her back, as the unicorn began to walk backwards towards their destination. She did this all with a bemused smirk on her face, as if to say to Path that nothing he could do could bother her.
“I see you see this all as a joke,” said Schorl, her usual reserved demeanor shifting slightly to one expressing great joy at the power she had over the two males now in front of her, “But why is that? Here I am, leading you to some mysterious destination, where no doubt something awful is about to befall you. Yet instead of giving this the proper respect it deserves, you have chosen to make snide remarks. You can’t assume this gives you any leverage over me, so why make things worse for yourself?”
The way Schorl laid this all out for Path was unsettling, mostly because of how manically happy she was to have an opportunity to ask this question of Path. The pegasus really didn’t know how to respond to this, as he had told himself earlier that words would only make things worse for him, so why did he so easily break his own rule? Simple answer, Schorl got him talking and he didn’t know when to stop. That didn’t account for the sarcastic remark he gave her though, as if he wanted to avoid conflict he could have stuck to submissive responses.
“Just a knee jerk reaction, I suppose.” he answered, feeling that he had to say something.
“Or maybe…” Schorl said, putting on her devilishly sly expression, “You enjoy the negative attention you get from acting out.” The purple mare gave her body a complete spin, encircling the leashes she held once around her torso. This brought both her captives unwillingly closer to her, enough that each now had to watch where they placed their hooves in order to prevent them from stepping over one another.
Schorl herself had her eyes aiming downwards, assumedly to keep track of her own footing in this awkward dance she had created, “You would not be the first submissive to act out in order to be punished. Some desire the firm strike of their owner’s hand so much that they will do whatever they can to receive it.”
“I’m not a masochist,” Path objected.
“Nor do you need to be,” Schorl replied, “It’s not the pain these types crave, but only the immediate attention and contact of the one who dominates them.”
“I don’t-!” Path wanted to adamantly refuse, but he relented. This felt like another trick of Schorl’s to either get him to do what she wanted, or talk him into getting himself into more trouble, and he had to watch his step mentally as much as he was currently doing so physically.
As much as he hated to admit it, Schorl did seem to play by some sort of rules. Ones of her own creation, and that no one appeared to know outside of herself, but her behavior always felt consistent. So unless he gave her a reason to punish her further than he had already earned, she would not do so.
Taking one step back in his mind, he started over with what he wanted to say, “With all do respect, I’m not that kind of pony.”
“Is that so?” Schorl asked, keeping her eyes at their downward angle, “Then would you explain this?” Giving that vague warning, Pathfinder had no ability to stop her as she took her free hand and grabbed hold of his dick. “This little guy was poking himself out the moment I started airing my thoughts about your hidden desires. It’s pretty hard too, considering that I’ve only started touching it.”
Path stopped walking immediately once grabbed, as did Schorl in response to him halting, and Sandbar when he realised that Schorl had ceased stepping backwards. Pathfinder hadn’t noticed that his penis had, of its own accord, decided to poke itself out of its sheath. His mind was on more pressing matters at the moment, and he would have believed that his body knew when it was a bad time to get aroused. With his ever hardening cock in the crystal mare’s fondling hands, the pegasus learned that such a belief was wrong.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Path said, blushing profusely as he denied the pleasant warmth covering his sensitive, exposed flesh. “It just got that way because your body got close to mine, that’s all.” He tried focusing more on where he was walking to block out the unmistakable sensation of pleasure created by the mare’s stroking hand, but little by little, it crept into his being.
“If that’s the case,” Schorl said, the enjoyment of all of this saturating her words, “Then why are you fully erect when Sandbar isn’t showing any signs of arousal.”
Path reactively looked to the crotch of the stallion aside him, and as the mare had said, he was showing no signs of arousal despite being just as close to Schorl as he was. Lifting his gaze from Sandbar’s privates, he could see that the slightly younger stallion was doing his best to not be part of this at all, averting his gaze and keeping quiet all throughout, only shaking slightly out of fear of what the mare mere inches away from him might do to him.
“As you can see, Mr. Finder, Sandbar here is not the least bit interested in the proximity of my body. Unlike you, he has a complete lack of desire in my form.” Schorl released Path’s dick, and unwound the leash from around herself to make distance between herself and the stallions, much to the relief of the stallions. “You do have a point though. Our bodies do react in ways that we believe we don’t want them to at times. But perhaps that is just telling of what it is we truly desire.”
After that exchange, Schorl had to give another tug of the leashes to get the males moving again, with Path now at a complete loss of both words and responses. Everytime he did something that he thought was his own action, Schorl had used it to take more of the little ground he had left. Entering conversation with the crystal mare felt like entering a battlefield, with skirmishes won and lost at the ending of a sentence.
“And we’re here.” The purple mare said, stopping at one of the numerous doors found in the Society’s halls. Sartek, acknowledging his employer’s statement, stepped forward and opened the door for his employer, standing aside as he did so Schorl could take her slaves in.
Once inside, Path found himself in what looked like a normal, if overly luxurious, bedroom. Soft carpeting, a nightstand, dresser, a large bed with tall bed posts and overhanging drapes that looked like it could hold at least the three ponies in the room, and a couple of doors off to the side that were most likely a closet and a bathroom, with the aroma of freshly cut roses perfuming the air. It was not at all what Pathfinder was expecting, which was some sort of dungeon-esque chamber like the ones he had been held in previously. A place where Schorl would be able to torture him for his disobedience in thematic surroundings, not a cozy room like the one he was now in.
“Will you need anything else?” asked Sartek, standing outside the doorway, his massive form making it so he would have had to crouch down to get inside.
“Not right now, you can leave us,” Schorl replied to the minotaur, “but have one of the deer deliver a chilled bottle of wine later.”
Having been given his instructions, Sartek closed the door to the room. Shortly after shutting, a loud clicking noise sounded, indicating that he had also locked the door. Path immediately noticed that there was no turn handle or door knob dial to unlock it from this side of the door, so all three of the ponies were now entrapped inside, or so it appeared. Schorl probably had some means of escape if she needed it, but she must have been fairly confident to place herself in such a precarious position with two unbound stallions.
“Ahh, finally some time to relax.” she said, casting aside the leashes in her hand. Freed from her grip, they swung over to the males they were attached to and dangled from their throats. “Make yourselves comfortable you two, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Schorl went through one of the other doors, leaving the two stallions to their own devices as she closed it behind her.
Path looked over to Sandbar, who in turn gave the older stallion a timid look out the corner of his eye, clearly not wanting to look Path directly in the face. Pathfinder assumed that the other male was still feeling intimidated by what Schorl did to him in the club room, and who could blame him. How Sandbar felt wasn’t a priority at the moment though.
After the initial moment with the earth pony, Pathfinder started going around the room, investigating everything except the door Schorl went through. As he assumed before, there was no unlocking mechanism on this side of the door, so unless it was broken down, there would be no exiting from this room until someone came for them. That didn’t seem like a feasible option, not only because Path would have no idea where to go once accomplishing that, but because the door looked rather sturdy.
The next location he wandered to was the third door in the room, the one that had yet to be opened, and whose contents were still a mystery. With a turn of the handle, Path slowly cracked open the door and peeked inside to find… the bathroom. That was odd, as he had assumed that the room Schorl had gone into was the bathroom, and that she was freshening up. Now he was more curious about what room she entered, as it looked too big for a closet from what little glimpse he had gotten when she opened it. Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to risk drawing Schorl’s attention back to him sooner than necessary just to satiate his curiosity.
The next things to look over in the room was the dresser and the nightstand drawers. He opened them one by one, and found exactly what he thought he might. Inside were a variety of sex toys and small bondage objects. Ball gags, bit gag, dildos, anal plugs, handcuffs, leather masks, crops, paddles, and an assortment of other items one would expect in a place that catered to those who enjoyed BDSM, which just seemed like something slavers would have a general interest in.
“Hey, I don’t think that Lady Tourmaline would want us snooping around.” Sandbar said, finally saying something to his fellow slave, becoming discontent while watching Path do a bunch of things that could get them both in trouble.
“She said to make ourselves comfortable,” Path said back to him, going over to the bed to see if it was more than meets the eye, “And I’m not going to be comfortable until I see what she has planned for us.”
Comfort, of course, was not on the minds of either stallion. They both had come to the same natural assumption that the crystal mare was going to do something awful to them, which by now was more a foregone conclusion. What Path wanted to know was the extent of what could happen to him, so he could be mentally prepared for his inevitable violation.
“Just as I thought…” Path muttered aloud upon finding a few sets of chained shackles attached to the bottom of the bed, no doubt hidden from sight to catch a Society member’s chosen victim unaware. That and the gear in the dressers aside, the room was fairly normal. Not too much that could be used to restrain or entrap somepony, at least not that his quick search could reveal.
As he finished looking about the room, the door Schorl had gone through opened, and out came the crystal mare with a tray filled with small snacks in hand. Aside from that, there was nothing changed about her. She was still in her fitted evening gown that nearly matched the color of her fur, giving her the illusion of being nude without actually being so, and she still wore that confident smile on her face that told anyone who saw it that she didn’t have a worry in the world, despite the fact that she was trapped in a room with two stallions who could easily overpower her if they tried.
“So who’s hungry?” asked the mare as she set the tray on the bed, letting Path see from his kneeling position the assortment of sliced vegetables and fruits it held, “Sandbar, I know you haven’t eaten yet, so come and get something.”
The earth stallion, who hadn’t moved an inch from the moment Schorl let go of his lead, came over at her command, taking several carrot and apple slices from off the plate before shoving them in his mouth.
Schorl, happy with Sandbar’s compliance, then set her sights on the pegasus next to her, “Mr. Finder, would you like something to eat? Or would you like to continue checking the room for restraints?”
“Did I make it that obvious?” Path had believed he had replaced the shackles before Schorl had the chance to see him looking around, believing for a moment that Sandbar was right and it would be bad to be caught snooping. In reality, Schorl didn’t seem to care in the slightest about him finding the bed’s hidden restraints, and in retrospect, there was little reason to assume she would.
“Well, either you were checking the room’s potential for hazards,” Schorl said with mischief raising up from her normally professional tone, “Or you were prepping yourself to give someone the tonguing of a lifetime. Whether it was me or Sandbar, I was willing to let it be a pleasant surprise.”
Path’s eyes went wide, his mind translating that statement into Schorl saying that had he not fessed up, or tried to make excuses, she would have gladly let the pegasus talk himself into having to orally pleasure one of the other occupants of the room. Was she capable of such manipulation of a conversation? If so, he was glad that he avoided that altogether, cause performing cunnilingus on his captor didn’t sit well with him, and sucking off a guy was out of the question completely.
“But enough of that,” Schorl said, grabbing a slice of purple skinned fruit from her tray, “Relax, have something to eat, take some time off of your chosen profession of ‘full-time prison breaker’.”
Pathfinder hesitated, for a couple of reasons. He still wanted to give the room one more look over, but he couldn’t really do that with Schorl standing there watching him. He also didn’t trust the food, as even if the mare was eating off of it, all that meant was she could be avoiding any drugged food she had placed on it. Then again, he really didn’t know how easy it was to drug food without it being noticable, he just knew of such things from works of fiction.
Schorl, sensing the pegasus’ distrust, decided to concede to his well warranted fear. “If it will put your mind at ease, the only hidden devices were the shackles under the bed. If you checked the drawers, then you have seen every tool I have at my disposal, save for what is in the supply closet, and I’d have to go back in there to retrieve anything extra. Also, you don’t have to worry about me doing anything to the food. Everything on the plate has not been tampered with, and is safe to consume.”
“Are… you reading my mind?” Path asked, wondering how she could be so precise about his thoughts.
“No, I’ve just had this conversation more times than I can count by now.” said Schorl, smirking in bemusement as she reflected on previous times she had to say these exact words, “And just in case the thought crosses your mind, I wouldn’t attempt to assault me or hold me hostage. While I am physically weak, I assure you that I’m very durable, and while I am stuck in here with the both of you until someone else arrives, it is possible for me to call someone who would be here within seconds should the need arise.”
Schorl appeared to have her bases covered, and judging by the way she said it, these were all scenarios that she was far too familiar with to leave room for error.
“So what’s this about?” asked Pathfinder, Schorl having peaked his interest ever so slightly. She didn’t simply want to use his body or to punish him for his poor behavior in the club room. If that were what this was, then he would have already been bound in some form that would give her free reign to do as she pleased. As things were, she didn’t seem to have any power over him that he didn’t give her, that is unless she was intending to use Scylla as leverage.
“The ‘purpose’,” Schorl replied, picking up the tray to offer Pathfinder some food personally, “Is for you and I to reach an understanding. No matter how you feel about me, the truth is that I am only doing what I feel is best for you and your daughter.”
“Best for us?” Path questioned in disgust, still staying from taking anything off the plate, “We know what is best for us. You have just been torturing us since the day you dragged us into this place.”
“I can understand how you could see things that way,” said Schorl, “But that is just a perspective you are creating in your mind. If you wanted to, you could really enjoy yourself here. I know, because Scylla has been through things that could be considered much worse than you, form a certain perspective, and she seems to be happy sucking on the cock of a complete stranger. In public no less.”
“That’s not her,” Pathfinder objected, “That’s something you put into her head to make her act that way.”
That got a short laugh out of Schorl, and set the tray back down on the bed “Mr. Finder, do you assume to know everything about your daughter?”
“Enough to know she isn’t a pervert.” Path answered.
“And can the opposite be said of you?” Schorl asked, “Does Scylla know everything about you? How you and your gryphon associate were in an active BDSM relationship? If she knew that, then it could have given her a few ideas of her own about her sexuality.”
“I…” Path stalled. He and Anya often made reference to the time that they were lovers, but they never went in detail about what went on behind closed doors. “I don’t think she knows about that.”
“So you’re saying that it is possible to keep secrets from other ponies if one tries hard enough.” Schorl said, delivering the true point behind her line of questions. “Just like I’m sure you didn’t know that she has a book collection of erotic novels in her closet, ones that depict scenarios not too dissimilar to what she is experiencing now.”
Path, in fact, didn’t know that. He had always allowed Scylla to have her privacy and hadn’t snooped around her room without her knowledge. How Schorl knew that when he didn’t was a mystery, but he had no reason to believe that wasn’t true.
“Your daughter is currently experiencing her most desired sexual fantasy first hand, and is very much enjoying her time here.” Schorl continued, “Being used for her body by a bunch of strong, attractive men. Adored as a sex object whose purpose is to give and be given pleasure. She is in her own erotic paradise, one she can’t escape, and wouldn’t want to if given the chance.”
“That’s not…”
“What? ‘True’? ‘Right’? ‘Normal’?” Schorl scoffed, “That is exactly what I am getting at. While I will never claim that every slave here wants to be here, there are those who do wish to be put into this role of helplessness, or simply wish to serve others. To be a device for somepony else’s happiness, to be rewarded for performing their role as a servant with pleasurable gestures, and even punished when their owner sees fit. You have dipped your hooves into the thrill of that lifestyle before, so how can you not see this as desirable?”
“That’s not the same,” Path argued, “You forced her to do this. She wasn’t allowed to make a choice.”
“Yet she’s enjoying herself,” Schorl stated bluntly, “And that enjoyment is brought about because I’ve put her into a position that she would have never been in had she been left to her own devices. I think that you and I both know Equestria is not the best place to explore taboo kinks like the kind she has developed.”
Schorl wasn’t completely true with what she was saying. It’s not like Equestria was so prudish that things like bondage were outlawed, but if you were a pony into that sort of relationship, it was common practice to keep it private. So private that it was difficult to find a partner who was also into it, because it just wasn’t talked about regularly. Anya had to practically drag him into their first intimate session together, and despite enjoying it immensely, Path never worked up the nerve to share his discovered kink with anyone outside of her.
“I believe I have said this countless times before, to countless ponies” Schorl continued, “But our function is not to make ponies miserable, or even to cater to the rich and powerful. It is to fulfill the deeply hidden desires of those within our walls. That doesn’t just mean our dominant members, but our submissive slaves as well, at least when the desires of our slaves doesn’t conflict with that of our clients. We are a business after all, and those of your occupation don’t have the finances needed to cover the expenses you accrue during training and upkeep.”
“So you’re trying to say the only reason I’m not happy with you kidnapping me and dressing me up like a mare is because I’ve chosen to be unhappy?” Path said, the notion no less ridiculous spoken aloud than as it was thought in his head.
“Essentially,” Schorl replied without the slightest hint of sarcasm or irony, “I would love to have you enjoy my facility, if simply to get you to not make random attacks against our members.”
“It wasn’t ran-” Path started to object, but Schorl silenced him by placing a finger on his lips.
“The reason doesn’t matter, only the behavior.” said the crystal mare, removing her finger after, “Getting my slaves to enjoy enslavement is a goal of mine, if at all possible. However, the wants of my clients will always come first, as they should.”
Path didn’t like that little clause Schorl put at the end of her statement, as it just meant that any complaints he might have would be ignored if it didn’t fit her objectives. Not that this was news to Path, but with his conclusion that he had before about her following a set of rules, he wanted to believe that if he could catch her out in something contradictory to what she said, then he could get some form of leverage over her. Ever the wordsmith, Schorl had already denied him that possibility.
“So…” said Schorl suddenly, using this as a leaping off point for her last subject, “How about I show you how happy I can make you, even ‘against your will’.”
“I’ll pass,” Path answered, though not really believing he had a choice.
“Oh really?” Schorl questioned aloud. Path expected her to follow that up with something like ‘well that’s not your decision to make’, but instead he was surprised with her saying, “And here I was going to give you something you’d really like if you cooperated with me just this once.”
Path assumed she meant some form of sex, which was the last thing the pegasus felt he wanted right now, even with a mare as admittedly attractive, if outright terrifying, as Schorl. “I’m really not in the mood to fuck.”
“Mr. Finder,” Schorl said, returning once more to her bemused state, “Sex is the activity to get the reward, not the reward itself.”
“Then… what’s the reward?” Path asked, knowing the question was being demanded of him.
“If you comply with what I wish to do with you, then I’ll allow you a special privilege. It’s not one that I usually permit, but seeing your special circumstance, and that you are the first of your kind here…”
“Not to disrespectful,” Path said, cutting off the crystal unicorn for once, “But could you get to the point?”
Schorl gave her head a light shake as she rolled her eyes, doing her best to not let Path’s out of turn talking get to her, “Be my sex toy for the evening, and I’ll set up a room where you and Scylla can reside together when not in use, so long as you both behave.”
“That’s… well… not too bad a deal…” Pathfinder admitted. If he was allowed to have a room with Scylla, then he would have to worry about her a little bit less throughout the day. “Wait, this isn’t going to be some sort of thing where ‘you can be together, but we expect you to fuck each other’ thing, is it?” While Pathfinder and Scylla were not biologically related, one of the most disgusting things the pegasus could think of was having to have sex with the mare he raised.
“Of course not,” Schorl reassured, “Though you may have to be nude in front of each other, and you might have to be present when the other is servicing a member, but that is nothing you haven’t gone through already.”
This deal, while not ideal, was putting things more in Path’s favor than they had been for a while. This meant that at the very least he wouldn’t have to spend any more nights in the aviary, or so he assumed, as Scylla didn’t fit the theme of that room. He would be able to talk to Scylla directly, see what they had done to her, and try to keep his daughter’s mind away from corruption - all for the cost of compliance.
“Ok, I agree.” Path said, finding the terms acceptable, “I’ll do anything you tell me to do, but don’t expect me to like it.”
“Fine, but don’t blame me if you end up loving what I do to you.” Schorl said, teeth on full display as she smiled as terrifyingly wide as she could. The sight of that smile was already causing Path’s dick to shrivel, and in turn gave him a bit more confidence that he wouldn’t enjoy this in the slightest.
“So… what do I have to do?” Path asked, preparing for the worst.
Schorl’s horn glowed, and the two males in the room watched as she employed basic unicorn telekinesis to open the dresser drawers, and retrieve several belted straps. “Sandbar, go sit in the corner. You may observe until I give you instructions to do otherwise.”
“Yes ma’am,” the earth stallion said timidly, going over to an empty corner on the opposite side of the room from the bed, sitting on the floor with his back placed within its groove.
“And as for you,” said Schorl, addressing her new partially willing plaything, “Go stand in front of the bed, facing inwards.”
Path got up off the mattress, and did what he was told without question. Schorl’s game was on, and in order to get his promised reward, he would play the role of the obedient slave for what he hoped would be a few hours at most.
Seeing Path do as he was told, Schorl looped two of the belts she received into their buckles, then sent them hovering just above the pegasus’ head on either side. “Arms up.” she then commanded, making her orders simple and precise.
Path lifted his arms up, placing them into the leather loops, assuming that was where Schorl wanted them. The straps tightened the moment his wrists passed through them, though only enough so he couldn’t take his hands back out. With the slack that remained, a pair of leather straps made their way into the newly formed cuffs, going about half way before tugging against the pegasus’ arms.
The newly created bonds started pulling at Path’s arms, but barely got them to budge from their spot. “Mr. Finder,” Schorl said, giving her plaything a sly sideways glance, “I don’t know how you performed with your previous partners, but I don’t expect to do all the work here. This is a mutual relationship, and you must give as much as you receive, if not more.”
Pathfinder curled his lips downward at Schorl’s attempts at humor, but gave in to her request. As he relaxed himself, the two straps spread his arms apart to the two tall bed posts on either side of him. Once within range of them, the leather bands wrapped around the thick wooden rods in the same fashion as the belts around his wrists, with all four straps closing tightly and buckling themselves shut.
With the stallion bound, the crystal mare turned her body on the mattress she had been sitting on, and crawled herself over to see her captive’s defenseless body up close. Schorl stood on her knees atop the bed, placing her chest level with that of Pathfinder’s.
“Comfy?” she said in feigned concern for the male, her hands already finding their way to his bare chest.
Path gave the bands a few pulls. The leather was thick, and the wood he was now connected to was strong. “It’s a little tight,” he complained, their grip feeling just shy of cutting off blood flow to his hands.
“You will have to endure it,” Schorl said, placing her hands on the pegasus’ pectorals, using his chest to support her weight while she brought her muzzle up to his. “We can’t have you…”
Without warning, Schorl placed her lips on Path’s. In his surprise, the stallion tried to pull away, but the mare pressed further into him to make sure he could not escape. Next thing Path knew, he was in an awkward, one sided kiss, with Schorl sliding her tongue through his lips and around his teeth. Then, in another unexpected action, the mare retrieved her tongue and bit down on Path’s lower lip with enough pressure to break skin and draw blood.
Feeling pain, Path immediately tried to escape, which Schorl allowed. All he felt was a light tug before she parted her teeth, and the piece of mouth flesh was freed. As Path felt his lip swell, he watched Schorl lovingly lick her front teeth, her face showing a deal of pleasure as she tasted the small amount of the stallion’s blood on her teeth, before finishing her previous sentence by saying “...Slipping away.”
As Path reflected on the ache in his lip, the mare moved herself off the bed. Placing her hooves back on the ground, she made her way to her captive’s backside, with the pegasus barely able to follow her movements with his head as she did.
“Don’t you worry,” Schorl said while taking the stallion’s tail in one hand, moving the long strands of hair out of the way so she could more easily caress his flank with her other, “While it is in my power to make you suffer, that bite will be all the pain I will inflict on you tonight. Something to help contrast the undeniable pleasure you will soon feel.”
Schorl rubbed her small, feminine fingers into the plump pegasus’ plot, sending severe sensations through the sensitive stallion’s spine and into his brain. Path panted as the pleasant pressure poured into him, the whispers of a moan slipping out of his throat within a minute.
“I see that the chemical therapy we’ve been giving you is affecting you nicely,” Schorl stated, giving the stallion’s rump a mild slap that struck through his being like lightning.
As Schorl was referring, Path had been subjected to more than just a single dosage of the chemicals he was injected with when he was first processed. Recieving what he assumed were daily shots, his body was altered in ways Pathfinder wished he could deny. It felt like his insides were somehow rewired, like all his most erogenous spots were directly hooked up to one another, and every touch was shared between them. Thus, a simple smack on his ass caused a chain reaction that made his dick swell in joy, the plumped-up penis standing proudly over the footboard of the bed he was attached to.
As intense as it was, though, Path could handle it. His body responded, his muscles tensed, but his mind did not give into the sweet surge of sensations it received. “T-that was nothing.” he said, focusing on the pain in his lip, using it to fight against the hand-shaped pleasure print Schorl gave him.
“Did I imply it was supposed to be something?” Schorl asked, hearing the words Path tried to hide under his breath, “No, you will be feeling much more than that little love tap. As I alluded to before, I intend to show you what it is that you truly desire.”
A promise of pleasure never before came off as threatening as how the crystal mare made it sound. This was a mistake. He should have never allowed himself to be at Schorl’s mercy, or so his instincts were screaming at him.
“Enough foreplay though,” Schorl announced, using her horn to retrieve another item from the dressers, a black object that Pathfinder could just see floating his way in his peripherals. As the black spot in the corner of his eye got close, the mare took it in hand, before making one last declaration. “Let’s get to the main event.”
No sooner than the words were uttered, the world around Pathfinder turned dark. No light could reach his eyes, no movement could be seen, though the pegasus could still hear things going on around him. It didn’t take long for him to understand what had happened, with the feeling of something hugging his skull filling in any blanks that might have existed. He had been blindfolded.
Pathfinder’s sight was made useless by the simple covering of his eyes, but he was still able to roughly make out what was going on around him. With his ears, he could hear sounds of movement, along with the distinct magical chime of a levitation spell. With the soft carpet beneath their hooves, Path had no idea where she was heading, how fast, or how far, but he could still take an educated guess. Seeing as there was little else in the room, he had no doubt she was going to the dresser to find more items to use on him. Bound as he was, Path could do little more than wait for Schorl’s return, save for lift his legs back and forth as his nerves took over.
Eventually, the mare did return though, and when she did, Path was alerted to her presence in most surprising of manners. While he was trying his best to follow her hoofsteps, she managed to make her way behind him undetected, and, with latex-covered hands that felt smooth to the touch, parted the cheeks of his ass.
The pegasus jumped and tried to flap his wings, momentarily forgetting that they had been tied closed for some time, as he had a good idea what was going to happen next. As if having had a premonition, the fingers groping his ass did exactly as Path expected, sliding between his parted fat mound to find their way to the fleshy hole that was usually hidden between them.
“Your o-ring looks to be plumping up a little,” said the crystal mare as the prodding of a finger against that soft, circular piece of flesh was felt by Path.
“Don’t!” he yelled, his adversary to anal still very real. “I’ll do anything else, but not that!”
“Now, now, Mr. Finder.” Schorl said, another finger cautiously joining the first to poke at Path’s back passage, “While I appreciate the nature of your objections, the terms of our agreement implied in no vague means that I would be able to do as I please with you.”
“I know, but-” The next thing out of Pathfinders mouth was a loud gasp, unable to finish his sentence while the pair of fingers that were molesting his rear inserted themselves inside and pulled the hole agape.
“And as I explained several times, this isn’t about putting you through things that I already know you can handle. This is about showing you what your body truly desires, and the only way to do that is to explore the things you try to avoid.”
The spreading of his anus brought new life to the nerves in the stallions rump, the feeling of it traveling to every part of him, forcing muscles and sinew all over his body to tremble as if they were the ones being violated. It wasn’t even that far of a stretch, nowhere close to comparing to the time the minotaur took that hole, but the drugs and inexperience of the orifice allowed this insignificant amount of opening to feel powerful in its own ways.
It’s ok , Path thought, doing all he could to ignore the fingertips parting his most sacred of places, You can handle this. Even if she puts something in there, you’ve dealt with it all before. Grit your teeth and bear it.
It wasn’t a sound plan, but enduring it was the only thing available to him. It was difficult though, especially with his vision taken from him. The loss of a single sense made this so much worse than it had to be, as in the pitch black darkness, the only thing that existed was him, the sounds around him, and that which he felt with his flesh.
“Let’s step this up a notch, shall we?” Schorl said, giving a small warning to the pegasus that things were not going to stay as they were for much longer.
“Please, no…” Pathfinder pled, having no reason to believe that Schorl would stop now if she didn’t stop before.
This lack of faith in the crystal mare was quickly proven correct, as true to her word, the intensity of the anal play was increased immensely. The smooth, plastic texture of latex vanished, as something coated in a layer of ‘wet’ made its way inside his ass, wriggling and worming into the tunnel.
“GAH!!!” Path screamed. The invader was finding passage into his anal cavity to be very easy, and with nothing impeding its entry, the thing inside the pegasus took an opportunity to investigate its new surroundings thoroughly. It moved around with great dexterity, spreading its slimy wetness all over Path’s inner walls, rubbing against them in ways the stallion couldn’t ignore. His mind became rushed with sparks, every touch causing fireworks to explode in the darkness of his vision.
The sensations both sickened and excited Path, the gross feeling of something squirming around his insides affecting his sense of morality in a completely different way than it was affecting his body. He knew this was wrong, but it felt so good. He might have tried to deny it, but everything from his rock solid shaft that had begun to seep pre-cum, to the bliss inducing pulses dampening his thoughts of objection, everything aside from his own personal opinions about anal was telling him this was a good thing.
“Please… no…” he said weakly, still fighting against the good feelings that were on the verge of overtaking him.
The plea, frail as it was, did not fall on deaf ears. The invader slipped itself out, and once removed Path’s personal temptress spoke. “What’s the matter?” said Schorl, Path able to envision the smug look she had to be wearing through the cadence of her voice, “Are you not enjoying what is being done to you? Is the tongue not enough?”
“A… tongue?” Path said between heavy gasps for air.
So that was what she was doing: Giving the stallion’s nearly uneducated hole a taste of forbidden pleasure - a pleasure it could feel the phantom of, despite the absence of Schorl’s tongue inside him. Though the mare had practically raped him with this undesired variant of sexual contact, his ass twitched and spasmed, wondering what had happened to the pleasant messages it was receiving, sending spikes of want to its owner to demand that it continued.
“Mr. Finder,” Schorl said, seeing the sweat form on Path’s body from the lack of stimulation and denial of climax, “You can object to anal sex all you want, say that it’s not for you, declare that you’re against it because you’re straight. You and I both know that your body is loving what I am bestowing upon it. Socially instilled ideas of sexual morality or your own want to keep that hole virginal are not a factor in this. Only the cravings of your flesh matter, and what it craves is to be touched. Not by me, or some gryphoness, but by anything. If I were to push a vibrator inside you right now, you’d be cumming within minutes.”
“You… You did this… to me…” said Path, seeking some way to rationalize what he was feeling.
“No,” Schorl objected, “I might have helped develop your body to better appreciate anal, but this is something your body was always capable of on it’s own. It has nothing to do with being straight, gay, or bi-sexual. Anal, in and of itself, is just gratifying once you’ve become accustomed to it. It’s simple biology, seeing that most of the organs that grant you sexual satisfaction are so close to that hole that one could touch them.”
“You’re… trying to say I’m made to like this?” Path said with great skepticism.
“Of course you are.” Schorl insisted in return, “Do you really think that your body differs that much from a gay stallion’s? They find anal gratifying because it is gratifying. Even straight males can like a good pegging from their female partners. All it takes is a little training, and I have granted you such training.”
That seemed like a much more agreeable statement to Path, as it implied that there was nothing gay about what it was he was feeling. He was being turned on not just because he was receiving anal and it felt good, but also because the rimming had been done by a mare. Some part of him still wished that was untrue, but he could not refute what he had felt, nor could he argue with the ache that was building up in his balls, his cock, and especially his ass now that they had gone without that new source of pleasure for minutes.
“Ok,” Path relented, “You got me, I want it. Please… show me what this feels like.”
Schorl grew silent, but of course, there was no more need for words now that her captive pegasus’ objections had been withdrawn. Soon, the wet feeling returned to Path, the tongue that violated him before sliding deeply inside, much to the relief of his sexual organs. The wet organ inside him wriggled vigorously, finding spots all around the flesh tunnel that filled Path with ecstacy. The grunts and groans he made as the sloppy piece of muscle rolled around his intestines still held a bit of resistance, but a part of him wished that he had done this sooner.
In no time at all, spurts of hot, white fluids shot from the stallion’s cock onto the bed sheets in front of him, merely from the massaging touch of the tongue inside his ass alone. It was embarrassing to say, but he did enjoy what Schorl had done to him.
Having satisfied the pegasus, the tongue was once more retrieved from his anus. “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Schorl said, Path amazed that the mare could still be so literate after having done what she had with her mouth. “Did you like that as much as it looked like you did.”
“Yes…” Path said, still pretty humiliated that his body functioned like this. Still, he couldn’t help but have enjoyed the something thick, firm, and malleable moving around inside him. It was an odd, yet pleasant sensation he was now less wary about experiencing again.
“Good, I’d like you to keep that in mind from now on.” Schorl said, a sound of magic chiming unto Path’s ears, assumedly grabbing something else to use on him as she continued playing with his body, “It’s never bad to try new things. You never know what you might like if you give it a shot.”
Pathfinder felt a hand touch his mane softly, giving several light pats of reassurance. His reaction to this touching was fairly positive, as he actually enjoyed this kind of pleasant touching much more than the ‘forced sex’ stuff Schorl seemed to have a fetish for. As much as the mare proved she could make his body love what she did to it, a pony was always going to prefer their personal kink more, and had she stuck to petting and gentle caresses, odds were that Path would have been puddy in her hands by now. The pegasus smirked to himself a bit at that thought, actually glad that Schorl didn’t know the old adage of catching more flies with honey.
“We are going to tone things down a bit,” Schorl said, the mattress in front of Path making a creaking noise as something of significant weight climbed atop it, no doubt being the crystal pony herself. “Get back to the basics, with something I know you’ll like.”
Once more Path felt the touch of latex covered fingers, this time aiming for his cock instead of his ass. The digits wrapped around the slowly deflating genitals, cradling it’s length in order to bring the spent sex organ back to life. They traveled up and down the dick several times, but it seemed to want nothing more than to retreat to the safety of its sheath.
That was until a pair of lips touched its side, substituting itself as the traveler of the flesh road the hands had gone along. This gave Path’s genitals pause, as his mind pictured Schorl using that tongue of hers again, only this time on an area of his body he enjoyed being touched. Envisioning her face lapping at his cock was just enough to keep his penis in her clutches, and when the inevitable feeling of wetness connected with the sensitive sex organ, it took no time at all to get back to its full size.
What followed was a long and drawn out session of fellatio, where the same tongue that had moments ago given him his first true experience of anal pleasure took its time to explore the landscape of Pathfinder’s stallionhood. Having only his sense of touch to go by, Path swore that after a few minutes of being stroked back and forth, time and time again, there had to be a heavy coat of saliva clinging to him. If he had to be honest, he loved this.
While Schorl was going out of her way to grant him only enough pleasure to keep him erect, he enjoyed this attention to no end. It truly made him think that had the two met under different circumstances, that perhaps they wouldn’t have had to be enemies. She would have made a good lover, overly domineering personality traits and all still intact. It was a shame that her goals all seemed focused around enslaving ponies for profit, as had she just been a kinky mare into bondage and slave play, it was possible that Pathfinder could have liked her.
After minutes of this pleasing torment, the tongue finally came to a stop, leaving Path mentally exhausted from lack of climax. He could feel a large supply of cum inside his now weighty sack, created by the unspoken promise of an eventual release that Path really wasn’t sure would come. The stallion felt sore, his bloated skin pouch filled to the brim, but it was a much better feeling of soreness than the time his dick was penetrated in the aviary, or when his ass was forced around the cock of a minotaur. Had Schorl known about his condition, she’d probably lecture him on the better aspects of sexual pain, and Path would have been hard-pressed to argue.
The mare did have something to say though, and with a removal of the tongue from his cock, Pathfinder heard her voice. “I hope you’ve enjoyed yourself.” she said, very pleased with how she had thus far manipulated her slave. “But it’s time I showed you the full extent of the pleasure I wish to expose you to.”
Path found himself nodding to those words, though they hadn’t demanded a response from him of any kind. He just wanted to let Schorl know that he liked what she was doing and wanted more. His compliance was near instantly rewarded, as the next thing he felt was a pair of lips pursing up against the flared head of his stallionhood, before opening widely and allowing the whole thing to pass through them, granting full passage into the mouth that were acting as the gatekeeper to.
The amount of good feelings going through the pegasus was off the scale, and he could feel his mind slip into a state of partial unconsciousness as a feeling of hot wetness enveloped him. All he knew was the strong sucking sensation, the rolling of a tongue over his length, and the lewd sounds that filled his ears. Anya tried to give Path oral in the past, but there were things that a person with a beak couldn’t do compared to someone with a nice set of lips. He just couldn’t help but enjoy what the mouth surrounding his genitals was doing, and the pegasus found himself thrusting his hips enough to drive his cockhead just beyond the orifice and into the throat behind it. Light sounds of protest were made, but the sucking continued, so Path didn’t stop.
The combined motions from both participants built up Path’s on coming climax higher and higher, to peaks that he could barely register. He was going to cum, and from what he felt, his orgasm was going to be massive. There was no doubt, the crystal mare had granted him pleasure as she had promised. However, the means of how she truly achieved that promise were not what Path had assumed they were all this time.
Seeing that her captive was nearing an unavoidable climax, she used her magic to remove the blindfold attached to his head so he could see what gave him the immense pleasure he was now experiencing. It took a moment for the pegasus to realize that he could see again through his haze of emotions, but after a first blinks he could once more acknowledge the world around him through the use of sight. With his penis on the verge of erupting, Path assumed that Schorl wanted him to see her handiwork first hand, so he looked down towards his crotch.
What he saw though was not the shimmering purple mare, but instead a yellowish green stallion hilt deep on his shaft - the same stallion that had been dragged to the room with him by Schorl, and whom he had all but forgotten about at this point. His appearance had changed slightly though, as now he was sporting a pair of pink shoulder length latex gloves, a matching pair of thigh high socks, and an erection that competed with the one in his mouth for size.
Pathfinder recognized that there was a male having sex with him, one of his biggest fears being enacted on him right before his very eyes, but before his mind could turn to disgust or loathing, his long awaited climax hit. An avalanche of endorphins filled the shocked pegasus’ mind while a torrent of cum shot out from his cock - directly into the mouth of the other slave stallion sucking his schlong, and all he could think about when it all hit his senses was how amazingly good it felt.
A few feet away was Schorl, keeping a watchful eye for this very moment, her unicorn horn readied with a unique spell known only to herself. As her captive’s body gave into its orgasm, she released the spell into the stallions skull, locking his current thoughts as a permanent part of his psyche.
In the midst of his climax, Path felt something in him change. A weird sensation came over him, as if something about his very nature had shifted without his permission. Something was wrong, and incredibly so. He was enjoying having his dick sucked. That wasn’t the problem persay, but that he was enjoying it while a guy was the one doing the sucking. Not only that, but he was finding the act incredibly hot, enough that he ended up shooting out another blast of sperm into Sandbar’s mouth mere seconds after the first and was greatly enjoying that as well.
“I take it you like having Sandbar suck your cock like a mare,” Schorl said, adding a girlish giggle at the end.
“I… uh… what did you do to me?!” Path replied, his mind partially panicking as he watched a stallion drink down his cum in front of him. He did like it, but he knew he wasn’t supposed to. All his life, he had a strong aversion to homosexual contact, perhaps even a phobia of it, but here he was, easily enjoying a blowjob from a fellow male and finding it incredibly arousing.
“Nothing you didn’t do to yourself,” Schorl answered, placing herself aside the two stallions, “You see, Mr. Finder, I have a very unique form of magic under my command. One that allows others to… how to put it? I suppose you could say that it makes those I use it on hold onto thoughts and ideas for extended periods of time.”
“Wha-What does that mean?!” Pathfinder nearly screamed, freaking out over why the male-induced oral gratification he was receiving was still making him excited.
“Well, I’ll give you an example.” Schorl said, taking Sandbar’s mane in hand and using it to pull the stallion’s mouth off of the dick he was eagerly pleasuring.
As Path watched, he could see the earth stallions eyes widen with fear, and his dick shrivel up instantly. Sandbar was simply terrified, seemingly by the mere actions of Schorl. What had she done to make him this way? Did it have anything to do with what she was talking about?
“Sandbar here was a very defiant pony when he first arrived. Very insistent in defying as much of my orders as possible. So I decided the best way to get him to obey was to show him true fear. It took some time, but after a few weeks of effort I managed to get him to show the slightest bit of fear, and when he did, I locked that fear into his mind.”
“You… locked it there?” Path asked, calming down slightly, but still finding the the scene in front of him a bit arousing.
“Yes,” Schorl replied, “And from there, I used that tiny sliver of fear to build it into a larger and larger fear of me and what I could do to him, locking in place his thoughts as they progressed. What you saw on the club stage earlier was just the finalization of his attitude adjustment.”
Path was confused. He didn’t know what that had to do with him suddenly being okay with and even attracted to gay sex. What Schorl said honestly lost him from word one, and he wanted answers. “What does any of that have to do with me?”
“Well,” said Schorl, releasing Sandbar’s mane and allowing him to scurry off the bed and off to the other side of the room, “Just a moment ago you were made to cum buckets by a cute stallion. Not only that, but ever so briefly after learning that it was a guy that had brought you so much pleasure, you found that fact really sexy. At the very least, you connected the image with the pleasure you felt, and that was all I needed to lock that thought in your mind. Now you can’t even imagine that not being arousing.”
Path’s eyes widened as it started to sink in. He couldn’t begin to understand how such a thing could happen, but somehow Schorl took a passing thought and made it a permanent fixture in his mind. That was the power that he had caught a glimpse of earlier at the club room, and it was a scary as he had assumed it would be.
“How long?!” He asked as panic rose again.
“How long?” Schorl asked back.
“How long does it last?!” Path asked, hoping that it was only temporary, though nothing Schorl said had implied it as such.
“It lasts… as long as I wish.” Schorl answered, with all the seriousness she could muster, “This is not some sort of enchantment with a time limit, or a spell I must maintain. This was a change in your very consciousness.”
“B-but why?! Why do this to me?!” Path said, his terror coming less from how he was altered, but that he could be altered in the first place.
“All this time we have been trying to fit you into the role of a femcolt, but you adamantly refused to even pretend to comply. So I had to take matters into my own hands and force the issue.” Schorl sent a glance over to Sandbar, and snapped her fingers at him. “Get back over here, we are continuing.”
“Y-yes mistress!” Sandbar said, rushing back to the bed.
“This isn’t gonna work!” Path said desperately, “I know your trick now. I can’t be changed if I don’t think what you want me to think!”
“Poor, poor Pathfinder.” Schorl mocked, “I’m afraid it’s not that easy. Now that you have your thoughts locked, you can’t think in a way that opposes them. You might be able to keep your attraction to females, which I strongly approve of, but from this point on you will be attracted to males and think as such. For example, did you realize that Sandbar was the one who licked your pert little asshole?”
Path’s heart skipped a beat, and his dick gave a twitch at that revelation. As Schorl had explained to him, he couldn’t not find that idea hot. And as the arousal set in, he saw Schorl’s horn glow right in front of his eyes. The idea had been locked, and he now found males sticking their tongues inside his o-ring to be an attractive concept.
“Sandbar,” Schorl said devilishly, “Start fucking Mr. Finder’s ass, and don’t stop till I tell you.”
“Yes mistress,” Sandbar answered, too scared of the mare to do anything but obey. Out of sheer force of will, the earth stallion got his penis erect again, and as it slowly grew to full size, he positioned himself behind Pathfinder.
“T-this won’t work!” yelled Path as he tried to resist, “I don’t like an-” Before he could finish his declaration, Path realized what he was about to say was no longer true. He was going to express his hatred for anal sex, but that was something that was only true a few minutes ago. Schorl had already showed him the pleasures of anal, and had surely locked that thought into his mind as well.
The pegasus had underestimated the mare, but then again, she had held all the cards from the beginning. If she hadn’t talked him into this deal, she would have found other ways to make him think the way she wanted, and without her explaining her power, he would have never known that he had to keep his thoughts in check at all times in order to not fall prey to it. He, and every slave in the Society, was at the mercy of this invincible spell that could only be countered if one already knew it existed.
As the stallion behind Pathfinder fulfilled the order given to him, shoving his dick slowly into Path’s anus, the depths of Schorl’s power hit Path like an unstoppable wave. As much as he knew he shouldn’t enjoy anal, the feeling of the dick going inside him felt amazing. It was like his reality had been altered, as his fear of the act melted away in a pool of pleasure, and with it faded any resistance his mind had previously built against it.
And as Path gave into this newfound desire, he watched helplessly as Schorl once more locked his thoughts, preventing him from ever going back to the way he once was without her permission. Briefly, he wondered if he even wanted to go back, but something deep inside him told him that as much as he was loving getting his hole plugged, this wasn’t right. That thought was being buried though, until its once mighty yell became the smallest of whispers. That whisper never went away, but it only managed to give Pathfinder a sense of shame in his newfound enjoyment.
Schorl watched Sandbar as he held Pathfinder by the hips, going in and out of the pegasus’ ass, becoming very pleased with her results. Truth was that she did this sort of thing to the slaves and the members of her organization all the time, just usually not in such a direct manner. She would covertly lock an errant thought in place when it suited her needs, setting up scenarios that would lead to certain usable ideas naturally occuring in the minds of her targets, and those secret manipulations were what made the Society function.
Pathfinder had tried to attack a member though, and that required a more heavy-handed approach. Had he not done that, she would have been happy to ease his mind into the role she picked for him, but now he had to be punished. What better punishment than to know that you had zero control over your life? That your own thoughts could be used against you, and that you could be manipulated into thinking however your owner pleased with the right stimulation. Schorl had little doubt that Path would conform after this, knowing that his very mind was her plaything.
Schorl spent some time watching the two go at it, enjoying the view from the comfort of her bed as Pathfinder delved ever deeper into the pleasures of homosexuality, her knees bent to avoid the large puddle of semen that was pooling just in front of her hooves. Eventually though, Schorl heard a knock on the door.
“Come in!” Schorl called out, and to her expectations, the door unlocked and in came a deer slave with a bottle of wine held in his hands.
“You ordered some wine, Lady Tourmaline?” The male deer said, entering the room and closing the door behind him. He couldn’t help but lock his eyes on the two stallions in the middle of intercourse as he made his way to the head mistress.
“I did,” she said, “Place it on the desk and kneel next to me.”
The deer did as he was commanded, setting the bottle down and taking a place on the floor at Schorl’s side, sitting on his knees.
“Sandbar is getting tired,” she explained to the deer, “And when he cums once more, you can take his place.”
“Thank you, Lady Tourmaline,” the stag said, expressing genuine gratitude. The deer slaves seldom got time with the pony slaves outside of the spa room, so this was a rare treat for him.
“And eventually,” Schorl said with sly, wickedness on her face as she grabbed the chilled bottle of wine, “We can see if we can find some use for this, too.”
Equestria Trainers' Society: Fish Out of Water
Submission's First Reward: Part 1
Days went by in The Society’s facility for both Scylla and Pathfinder, then weeks, until three months had passed without their knowledge. Neither could find a means of escape, with locks too tricky to undo, binds too restrictive to slip free from, cages too secure to leave, and a large force of minotaur so physically imposing that the captives of the slaver group would never be able to find freedom. Within this place, where the passage of time was disallowed to be known by its prisoners, the days melted together, only separated by the short periods of sleep they were allowed.
Eventually, even the most willful would start to bend under such conditions, so it was no surprise when Scylla, who’s will was no greater than any average citizen of Equestria, began to accept her new life. The depraved acts of The Society’s members, their rude remarks and lewd gestures, became commonplace for the kelpie, until talks about violating her and the other slaves were received by her as casual conversation. The customs of the club gained a familiarity to them, till the offhanded touches of her body, even the times they invaded her most personal and private areas, were only met with a well-rehearsed response of pleasantry. In such a short time she had to see her work in the clubs as a mere obligation, reluctantly taking the tip slips offered to her when she made the patrons happy, so she could treat herself with meager rewards later.
While her overall opinion of her treatment had not changed much, it was the kelpie’s compliance that mattered to those in charge, and over time her behavior earned her some private time with the head mistress of the Society herself, who had been keeping track of Scylla’s progress from a safe distance, until she felt the time was right.
“You are doing a very good job,” Schorl complemented the kelpie, not for her advancements in the art of submission specifically, but more directly for what she was doing at that very moment.
The two had spent a fairly active night in Schorl’s personal chambers with two other slaves, and after resting, the leader of The Society had Scylla and the other slaves accompany her during breakfast. Not as dining guests, but as entertainment as she ate her luxurious gourmet morning meal, promising that each of the slaves at her mercy would be able to have a taste, so long as they continued to please her.
That led to Scylla being instructed to kneel under the dining table, between the crystal unicorn’s legs, arms shackled behind her back in leather cuffs, so she could clean the lower lips of the dominant mare with her tongue. Of all the things Schorl could have commanded her to do, this was a simple interaction the kelpie had become accustomed to while serving mare Society members, so she found no issue in complying if it meant she would get some of the amazing smelling food that was privy only to the head mistress.
Stroke after stroke, the kelpie stuck her snout up to the slit of the other female, sticking her tongue out to send it roughly across the soft, crystalline flesh of the unicorn’s crotch. When she had started, the strong scent of sex from the night still perfumed the space between Schorl’s legs, but after several minutes of oral bathing, all that remained was the flavor.
Pleased with Scylla’s dutiful and diligent service, Schorl scooped up a spoonful of food from her plate, saying “Open wide” as she brought it down to Scylla’s face. The aquatic mare obeyed without hesitation, and was rewarded with the delicious flavor of perfectly cooked tuna to cleanse the taste of pony pussy from her taste buds. For a waterborne carnivore like a kelpie, it was a little piece of pure bliss, and a silent promise that good things were to come if she did what she was told.
Scylla’s initial repulsion to the ways of The Society was steadily being eroded away, the manipulations of the head mistress was taking hold, magical or otherwise. The kelpie could feel that her resistance was being depleted, and on many levels knew she should still be fighting what was being done to her, but that voice was being drowned out by the one telling her that it was just better to allow herself to be used as a slave, sex object, and breeding tool. The training she had endured had accomplished the sought out goal, the mental image of herself becoming like a trained dolphin who would do anything, so long as she was given her metaphorical fish in the form of a reward. This voice was made all the louder when she saw that she wasn’t the only one.
At either arm of Schorl’s chair were the other two slaves that Schorl used the night prior, both being “Elements of Servitude” like herself, that being the pegasus Blue Yonder, and the gryphoness, Gabby, and like Scylla, they were kneeling and being put to task.
For these two, Schorl focused less on sexual acts, and more on humiliating ones, as a slave needed to do whatever their owners wished of them, no matter how degrading it could be. For Gabby, her task seemed simple, as she was instructed to sing for the crystal pony’s amusement. At first, she tried to recite a song that she knew, but as soon as a single word was uttered, the mare stopped her.
“No, no, not like that,” Schorl said, lightly laughing through her words like Gabby had done something silly, “You’re a bird, so sing like one.”
It took a moment for Gabby to understand what Schorl meant, but once she figured out what Schorl was getting at, the gryphon started to whistle out small tweets in a pattern that barely resembled the rhythm of a song. As poorly as it was performed, this appeared to be exactly what Schorl wanted, as she offered Gabby a strip of crisp bacon, telling the gryphon “One bite, then sing another verse.”
Gabby, in response, took a modest bite from the piece of pig meat, and continued tweeting as she chewed. Of the three present, the gryphon seemed like the one who had progressed the furthest in her training, as Scylla had witnessed an outward shift in Gabby’s attitude towards enslavement during the time they had both been imprisoned. What once was a shared apprehension for it between her and most of the girls, had transformed to a near enjoyment of it. Scylla found that strange, because her adopted aunt Anya, who was a gryphon herself, often said that gryphons were headstrong and difficult to get to change their minds on the simplest of things, let alone something like stripping them of freedom and forced impregnation. Then again, Scylla had little room to criticize Gabby when she was walking down that same road, if at a slightly slower pace.
The only one in the room showing the proper demeanor of one enslaved was Blue Yonder, being one of the few remaining who had not given The Society any ground when it came to breaking her will. The night prior, she had to be bound in a hogtie just for Schorl to fool around with her body, and when breakfast started, when Schorl tried to give her a chance at redemption as her drink holder, Yonder tossed what was a full glass of red wine on the ground the moment the crystal mare looked away. In response to that, Schorl had her minotaur bodyguard reaffix the collar around Yonder’s neck so that it also looped around the arm of the crystal mare’s chair. With her own hands bound behind her winged back, this left her unable to escape anything that Schorl did to her, so when the head mistress said she would reward Yonder’s independent spirit with some of the wine she spilled, there was little the pegasus could do as an entire glass was poured into her mane.
Between the three, the rebellious pegasus, the submissive gryphon, and the kelpie just trying to survive, there was little they all had in common. However, they did have one common trait between them, and that was that all three of them had a sizable bulge in their stomachs, ones indicating that they had reached their first trimester of pregnancy. The fertilized eggs inside them had developed into embryos, and their bodies were now adjusting themselves to accommodate the new life growing in them.
“So how have you been feeling lately?” Schorl asked Scylla, while stroking her stomach bump gently with her hoof, “Any morning sickness? Cramps?”
Scylla stopped licking the crystal mare’s snatch, answering with a “Nawh”, her tongue having trouble forming the simplest of words after tiring itself out.
“That’s good,” Schorl replied, showing the smallest amount of concern, “Our clients have been spreading word that your little group have been getting a bit chubby. Pretty soon they’ll catch onto what’s going on, if they don’t already have an idea.”
“Why do you care?” Blue Yonder asked, indignant about her current conditions, “Do your clients not like pregnant girls?”
“It’s not that,” Schorl ensured, “But I don’t think that our members would want to know they’ve been fucking females with minotaur babies inside them.” Schorl’s minotaur bodyguard gave a snort, indicating his slight offense to that, to which Schorl gave a sigh, “ It might be a bit prejudice, but their personal standards might not allow them to appreciate the gifts that has been bestowed to you six, which is why you all will need to be pulled from your daily duties in the near future.”
That announcement got the attention of all three of the impregnated females, none of them believing that Schorl would remove them from their roles as club slaves.
“So we don’t have to perform or be raped anymore?” Scylla asked, making sure she understood what the crystal pony was saying.
“Well I wouldn’t go that far,” Schorl said, “What I mean is that your masters still have full say over what happens to each of you, so if they want to continue fucking you, then I’m not going to do anything to get in their way. Everything will certainly be ‘cut back’ quite a bit though, for your health.”
“Oh please,” Yonder grumbled, “As if you care about our health.”
“Of course I do,” Schorl replied, “But more importantly I care for those potential minotaurs that you have inside you.”
“Why? Do you get some kind of commission if they turn out to be minotaur?” Yonder questioned. Schorl didn’t reply to that question, at least not with words. Instead, she made a noticeable smile, and began to hum. “Oh for Celestia’s sake, are you serious?!”
The girls in their group of six always kept in mind that so long as they had a girl, that girl wouldn’t be a minotaur and instead would be a member of their own species. Because of that, the majority hoped that they would be lucky and not have male children, even the ones who found some enjoyment in their enslavement, but now it appeared someone was betting on them all birthing a bunch of bulky bull boys.
“The point is that I don’t wish to see any harm come to your children, no matter what they turn out to be,” Schorl explained, “And undue stress isn’t good for an expecting mother, or her child. So in order to make sure you each give birth healthily, you’ll all need to be removed from the main training program, and put into much more lenient courses.”
“Don’t expect it to be easy from here on out, though,” said Schorl’s minotaur bodyguard, “If you act up, you will still be punished, and certain duties will be expected of you no matter how big the babies in your bellies get. There is plenty that females can do to serve their masters, even with a bloated womb. If I’m not mistaken, your master has already prepared you for such tasks.”
“Oh right,” Schorl said, recalling the adjustments that had been placed on the pegasus, “Your owner had your throat changed to be as sensitive as a pussy. By now it should practically be like masturbation when you eat. Wonder how that slave mush feels when it slithers down to your gut.”
Yonder wasn’t the only one who had received modifications by now, something Scylla knew first hand. Her changes were the opposite of what Schorl said happened to the pegasus, though, her large fish finned tail being made less sensitive to touch, which in some ways actually helped the kelpie, at least when members of The Society wanted to get grabby with it.
“Anyways,” Schorl continued, seeing that her comments on the modifications wasn’t really getting a reaction out of Blue Yonder, “I do want to say that each of you have done well adapting these past few months. Even you, Miss Yonder.”
“Bite me,” Yonder replied.
“Maybe later tonight,” Schorl said in turn, “But I do mean what I say. That you only strike back at me with words, and not with a fist, shows improvement. You may never be a perfectly obedient slave, Yonder, but you have become more complacent. There is no doubt of that in my eyes.”
Schorl’s eyes started to glow, the mare seeing no need to do so subtly, as by now the three girls had each been made individually aware of most of Schorl’s tricks via one means or another. That she could see the strength of their wills, and at a moment’s notice trap a stray thought permanently in their minds was no longer a secret, and in ways these were much more powerful weapons out in the open, as it allowed the girls to know that when Schorl said they were faltering against her will, she said so with absolute certainty.
“And because of that, your masters have actually decided to reward you three.” Schorl finished.
“Reward?” Yonder said with skepticism, “What is it, more sex?”
“Heavens, no,” Schorl replied, taking a spoon full of oatmeal from her meal, before bringing it to Yonder’s lips, “They have something special for the three of you today, though I don’t want to ruin the surprise. Just know that our playtime with each other, and this breakfast, are just a prelude to what’s in store for you once your masters come to retrieve you. Now take a bite, so you have something in your stomach.”
Yonder grumbled, but did eat the mushed up oats presented to her, “And here I thought I’d go one day without him making me do something I didn’t want to.”
Schorl was both amused and exacerbated by the pegasus, her constant backtalk being recognized as merely a defense mechanism, and had no real strength behind it. If Schorl told her to stick a whirring vibrator into her ass on stage for others to see, without any bonds or assistance from a club member or guard, she’d complain before doing exactly what she was told. Defiance was practically foreplay for her.
“Sartek, please remove Miss Yonder from my seat, and ready the girls to greet their owners. I’m going to take a shower.”
Schorl did just as she said, moving her chair back, to Yonder’s discomfort, and excusing herself as she made her way to her bathing area, leaving behind much of the food prepared for her. As the crystal unicorn closed the door behind her, Sartek made his way over to the table.
“Stay still as I undo your bonds, all of you,” Sartek said while undoing Yonder’s collar briefly so the chair could be removed from the loop, “When I finish, go kneel by the door and await your masters in silence.”
The minotaur started to remove the cuffs from each girl, starting with Yonder, and ending with Gabby. As commanded, each of the girls crawled their way to a spot a few feet away from the entrance to the room, and sat on their knees for the arrival of the minotaur that were supposedly coming for them. After a minute of pure silence, Sartek came over to them and set before them the remainders of Schorl’s breakfast; the bowl of oatmeal for Blue Yonder, a thick piece of half-eaten ham for Gabby, and the remainder of Schorl’s eggs for Scylla.
“You may eat in silence as you wait,” the minotaur said, returning to his leaning spot, “Consider it a reward.”
Each of the three girls wasted little time digging in, not having portions of real food in some time, which made everything about the leftovers so much more than it should have been. The texture, the smell, the taste, all of it was magnified after having nothing but the minotaur’s slave slop for so long. The small bits they got at the table were not enough to satisfy their palates, but this was a big enough portion that it could at least be considered a meal.
Hastily, though silently, each plate was emptied, with the three slaves not knowing when their masters would show up, or if they’d make them stop eating when they did. They managed to get through everything, cleaning their plates, and still had several minutes to sit in contemplation. The three women were almost able to relax, but when the knob on the door turned, they shot back up in attention immediately.
The door swung open, and one by one stepped three minotaurs into the room. Ones that Yonder, Gabby, and Scylla knew as Longinus, Cestus, and Rubric. These minotaurs were their rapists, the ones who impregnated them, but most of all they were their masters.
“There’s my Gabriella,” said Cestus, the youngest looking of the three bulls, placing himself in front of the gryphon. With her head at crotch height, the gryphon automatically opened her mouth and put out her tongue to receive the cock hiding behind her master’s loincloth. What she received instead was a simple firm hand on the top of her feathered skull as he gave her a few pats. “Not right now. As much as I’d like to give you a proper breakfast, we’re gonna have to hold that off for later.”
“And what about you?” said Longinus, the eldest of the group, to his pegasus bride, “Did you have a nice night? Did you get enough to eat?”
“Yeah, I guess...,” Yonder replied, with the inflections one would expect from a petulant teen, the older minotaur giving a snort in response.
Scylla wasn’t around the other’s of her group enough to know their relationships with their masters, but the way the two treated each other in this instance looked like what she would expect from a father and daughter than a master and slave wife. As for her relationship with her own master…
Rubric came to the kelpie, the kelpie not even sure how to act. He was not the type of slave master to be very hands-on with the training of his breeding stock. Of all of the Elements, Scylla was the one used the least by the man who owned her, seeing her only once a day to fuck her during breakfast, hardly ever saying anything directly to her. No scolding, no praise, it felt like indifference, which in its own way was worse than even the unjust punishments Jupiter would have given her had he won her instead. All of the attention she received in this place was from the members, which Schorl had said was very soon going to come to an end, so what would life be like when Rubric would become her only source of interaction, sexual or otherwise.
“Stand,” Rubric said, commanding her with as few words as possible.
Scylla did as she was told, getting to her hooves while keeping eyes to the floor, partially because she had been trained to keep her gaze to the ground, but mostly because she didn’t lock eyes with Rubric.
“Chin up,” Rubric commanded next.
Scylla obeyed again, tipping her head back until she was looking at the ceiling. When she heard a click, she knew that Rubric had leashed her, and it was safe to lower her head again. The other two girls were leashed as well, with Gabby standing up of her own accord when Cestus revealed his, and Longinus having to kneel down to attach the one he had to Yonder.
“Is everyone ready?” Longinus asked as he stood up, gripping his leash at its end to make Blue Yonder raise with him.
“Yeah, looks like we’re all set,” Cestus said, speaking for both himself and Rubric as he coiled his own leather lead in his hand, forcing the gryphon on the other end close to him.
“Then let’s go,” Longinus said, making his way out the door, Yonder following along of her own volition.
The group of six walked down the halls of The Society, half clueless as to what was about to come. For all the females knew, their reward was going to be more of the same treatment they had been getting since day one, and they really had no reason to assume differently. The question on their minds was the intensity of what would be done to them, as a common thought between them was if their captors believed this would be the last chance they’d have to push the girls to their sexual limits without harming the babies inside them.
The three dwelled on the possibilities of what to come as they were escorted through corridor after corridor, being led to areas they believed they never had seen before, as thoughts of gangbangs, bondage, and physical abuse became the forethought for each girl. Wondering the labyrinthian halls of the facility, with the belief that what they imagined was their fate, made each of them nervous, bodies shaking, hearts pounding in their chests, and their pussies getting a little moist from the excitement racing through them by the time that they made it to the door of their destinations.
“Are ya ready girls?” Cestus said, taking the door handle in hand.
“Yes master,” Gabby replied, her voice lifting to just below a yell, unable to completely hide her raised emotions.
Scylla gave a nod as her answer, though she really wasn’t. As used to her enslavement she had become, she didn’t believe that she could ever be prepared for anything The Society considered to be a surprise.
Getting no response from Yonder, who was doing her best to just retain her stoic attitude, Cestus saw no reason to prolong the suspense any further. He opened the door, stepped aside, and gave the girls a good look at what awaited them.
“Oh… my…” even before the door was all the way opened, Scylla could hear the sound of running water, pouring out and landing into a bigger pool. That alone was enough to perk up her senses, but when she actually caught a glimpse of the source, her heart skipped a beat.
The room contained a large pool, one big enough that it could almost be called a man-made pond, decorated with several large, egg-shaped crystals that were periodically placed every few feet along its edge, as well as several statues placed on stone platforms within the pool itself, each featuring depictions of large, muscular minotaur men sculpted from polished obsidian, accompanied by females of different species crafted out of solid, white marble. Abiding by the overall theme of The Society, the statues were displays of sexual conquest as the powerful males dominated the females, shown to be struggling for an escape that could not be achieved. The statues each doubled as fountains, with a perverse creativity put into them as the female parts spewed water out of one hole or another.
One example that drew Scylla’s eyes was one where a female yak had been made to kneel, wrists and ankles bound together in cuffs of polished brass which were all linked together by a single large ring, which would prevent the stone bovine from standing or moving about effectively, if the chuck of rock was capable. The minotaur of the artistic depiction of what was assumedly an act of rape had the yak by the horns, using them to guide her mouth over the length of his cock till his balls rested on her chin, and her nose was press against his stomach. Scylla assumed that had the female statue not been wearing a collar made of the same material as her cuffs, the sculptor would have had her throat bulge out from the obstruction of solid bull meat that would surely be in it.
As for the fountain part of the statue was located at her rump, as water poured out from her ass directly into the pool. Scylla understood that this lewd piece of art, along with all the other statues, were implying that the minotaur shown in them were cumming so much no female could contain it, the notion depicted even further with the yak by having large streams of water also coming out from her mouth, and her stomach rounded out as if filled to capacity.
“Pretty nice, isn’t it?” Cestus said, he said entering the room, to which the others followed, with Scylla herself allowing her body to move on its own as she focused on the decor, brilliant as it was despite the crude imagery. “This is a chamber normal members never get to see, made for us minotaur to use after a hard day of training slaves like you three.”
“There’s no need to brag about it,” Rubric said, closing and locking the entrance door as soon as Scyla had entered.
“But I want our slaves to appreciate what they have access to.” said Cestus, undoing the leash from Gabby’s collar, now that he didn’t have to worry about her getting lost or possibly escaping.
The room was spectacular in many ways, not only for the pool and statues, but because there was a level of extravagance to it that most other rooms in the facility didn’t match. The wall was decorated end to end with murals of even more minotaur dominating women, matching the theme of the statues, but all the figures were outlined in gold and silver trim that looked to be strips of the actual metal embedded in the wall, along with many tiny gemstones that speckled the wall sparsely to give it a glittery look. The floor was made of the same white marble that the female statues were made out of, and columns of the white rock stood at various spots around the pool, with shackled chains dangling off of them. Scylla wasn’t an architect, but she knew the columns were load bearing structures capable of holding tons of weight, so they could easily hold any slave shackled to them, should the minotaur need a place to put the slaves they brought in when not being used.
“Oh! My! Gosh! Look at that over there!” Gabby practically screamed, and in her excitement, she took hold of Scylla’s face and directed her to a small creature walking towards their small group.
It room was a bit misty, the water of the pool hot enough that it created a layer of fog that traveled about waist high to Scylla, so at first glance, all she could see was a silhouette of the approaching figure. As it got closer and closer, more details could be made out, until Scylla suddenly became just as excited as Gabby to figure out what exactly it was.
“A dragon?!” she yelled, identifying the form of a small, blue, ‘baby dragon’ coming her way.
The shock of such a creature being in the Society was enough to make Scylla’s heart leap, as encountering a dragon anywhere in Equestria was a rare event indeed. It was even more of a surprise when she noticed the dragon was wearing a spiked collar around its neck, indicating that it was a slave to The Society. How they could have captured a dragon, Scylla couldn’t even begin to guess, and the questions forming in her head about it momentarily distracted her from the fact that the reptile had other adornments on its body, including a strap muzzle around its beak, shackles on its around its wrists and ankles, several rings placed on the middle digit of both his hands and feet, and a final ring located at the base of its small, but engorged, knotted cock, clarifying that it was a boy dragon.
Upon reaching the group of six, the dragon, in a rather polite fashion, bowed its head and extended its arm out. In return, the minotaurs handed off the leashes they had used to lead their slaves, Rubric, and Longinus having removed their own from Scylla and Yonder’s collars while they were distracted by the sight of the dragon. With the leashes obtained, the dragon retreated back the way it came from, assumedly to put the leashes away for safekeeping.
“The Society has a dragon now?!” Yonder said, amazed herself by this new discovery.
“Not a dragon,” Longinus corrected, “Several dragons, which if you look around, you can see.”
The girls took a better look around the room, and just as the elder minotaur said, several other small creatures with draconic features could be seen in the mist; some walking around, while others were at poolside. They were obscured to the point that none of the girls could tell what exactly the dragons were doing, but they could tell they were indeed dragons.
“Wait a second,” Scylla said, a thought crossing her mind, “What are baby dragons doing here?”
“You mean, ‘how did we catch them’?” Rubric replied, figuring that was the question his slave was asking.
“No master,” Scylla replied back, trying to be respectful as she did, “I mean I thought the rules of the Society prohibited children from being enslaved.”
While Schorl was a ruthless slaver, she ran her business with a strict set of rules. Any such rule that gave protections to a slave, what Schorl called ‘Slave Rights’, were relayed to The Society’s captives on occasion, just to make sure they knew what they were, and to spread the concept that for all the cruel and heartless things The Society did, it was in some way ‘fair’. One such rule was that no creature under the age of maturity could be a slave of The Society, thus only adults were admitted to training.
“So that’s what you’re getting at,” Blue Yonder said aloud, “Well I’m not surprised. Lots of creatures make that mistake.”
Scylla gave a confused look to the pegasus, who understood that Scylla didn’t know what she meant.
“The term ‘Baby Dragon’ is a bit of a misnomer,” Yonder explained, “Dragons grow in strange ways to other creatures, and depending on certain factors they can stay small for a long time. In some situations, they will never get as big as the ones you’re probably picturing in your head. These dragons here might be half our size, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they were as old as we are.”
“But does that mean they have reached maturity?” Scylla asked, still not able to perceive that something as cute as the dragon she saw was an adult.
“Maturity for dragons isn’t a physical development, but a mental one, and they can hit it before they go through their first molt. If Schorl isn’t basing their maturity on their appearances, she must know this, so I can’t believe that she would enslave any dragons without knowing that they agree to her standards. Then again, I can’t believe she managed to capture dragons in the first place…”
Yonder was an adventurer before she was brought to The Society, as Scylla recalled from first being introduced to the pegasus, so the kelpie had to assume she knew what she was talking about.
“If it makes you feel any better, we call them ‘pigmy dragons’,” Rubric said, trying to put his slave’s mind at ease.
Scylla accepted that, along with Yonder’s explanation, and gave into their words.
“And with that out of the way…” Rubric continued, “Have fun.”
In a way, those two words were more surprising than the presence of the dragons, confusing not only Scylla, but the other two girls until the minotaur turned and started walking off.
“Master, wait!” Scylla called out, the words leaving her mouth before she realized she was uttering them.
“Yes?” Rubric questioned, turning his head back towards his slave.
“Umm…” Scylla hesitated, “What do you mean by ‘have fun’?”
“Oh, you didn’t get it yet?” said Cestis, “This is your reward for your training so far. A few hours of relaxation at the pool, free to do whatever you want.” Cestis took a moment to chuckle to himself, realizing that was far too vague, “Well, except for trying to escape or trying to hurt someone or yourselves.”
“Just don’t do anything we’d have to punish you over,” Longinus added in addendum, believing that would cover a much larger range of potential violations to their limited freedom.
With that said, the minotaurs left to the other side of the room, surely to enjoy the pool and the other amenities offered by the servants held within its enclosure. The girls were speechless for a moment, none of them expecting to be handed back so much of their freedom. They stood in silence for a short moment, until the gryphon in their group broke it.
“Look at that!” she yelled happily, “The set up a feast for us! I haven’t seen that much real food in ages!”
Scylla and Blue Yonder looked to the gryphon, and then followed her line of sight to see that on the far end of the room there was a sizable buffet set up for them, composed of many expertly prepared dishes just waiting for someone to take them. It all looked incredibly tasty, but it wasn’t anything any of the girls weren’t used to seeing on a regular basis. Club events often had such spreads laid out for the members to partake in, placed where any pony could go get a bite to eat whenever they wanted, unless they were a slave, of course. This time however, it appeared that the food was theirs for the taking, and none of the three females were gonna pass up such a rare opportunity.
They practically competed to see who would get to the table first, with Yonder taking a quick lead, and Gabby following last as she didn’t expect the pegasus or the kelpie to just bolt off in response to her announcement. They all ended up getting there at about the same time though, the distance not so far away that it took more than a few seconds at the pace they were going.
Arriving at the table, it was every bit as beautiful as the girls believed it would be. Roasted Apples, freshly cooked breads of all types one could think of, and a few the average pony wouldn’t, steaks, honey glazed ham, several styles of cooked potatoes, an entire section dedicated to raw veggies and perfectly peeled fruits, and another one filled with cakes, puddings, and pies. A feast of foods for both carnivores and herbivores.
Scylla greedily eyed every delectable bite offered, wanting to have a little bit of everything she saw. She was tempted to just start grabbing things and eating them right in front of the table, but she felt that even if she was given temporary freedom, such poor table manners might get her punished once her free time was over. Fortunately, it wasn’t hard to find where plates and silverware were being kept, and once obtained she quickly started filling up the plate with whatever was closest to her, especially any meats she came across.
By the time she was finished, she had a stack of food half a foot high, and a growing urge to cram it down her throat. The kelpie snickered at the thought as she left the table with her seized goods, as after having deepthroated as many large cocks as she had been made to, she probably could swallow a lot of what she had gathered whole.
“But before I do that…” Scylla said to herself, “I need to find a place to sit.”
There were a couple of pool chairs set up that Scylla could have used, and even a few tables that would have made dining simple, but Scylla already had another idea of where she wanted to sit. She made her way directly to the pool, set her plate at its edge, and lowered herself into the water. The water was hot, as expected, but only at comfortable levels. She wondered for a moment how they heated it, but that was soon answered when she spied one of the poolside dragons she had seen prior near where she had entered the pool.
The poor thing had been bound into a curled up position, arms forced its sides by several thick straps of leather that wrapped around its entire body, forced to its knees due to a length of chain that connected its collar to the bottom of the pool floor, making the dragon’s face point into the water, and a set of shackles on its ankles that kept it from even planting its floor flatly on the floor, the tethers on them tighten so tightly to the floor outside of the pool that the reptile couldn’t even budge. As Scylla got settled in, she noticed the dragon squirm a bit, moving its body in tiny jerks, while its head twisted about, its mouth held as far open as possible by a dental gag strapped to its skull.
A little after it started wriggling, it let loose a stream of fire across the surface of the pool, lasting only a few seconds. The jet of flames scared the kelpie at first, as she didn’t expect the dragon to be allowed to do something so potentially dangerous. Then she noticed another dragon further down the edge of the pool do the same about a minute later, this time catching that the egg-shaped crystals closest to it on either side started glowing prior to it expelling its fire.
This repeated again, then again, in a pattern that looked like it would travel the entirety of the pool, and seeing all this, Scylla figured out that this was how the pool was being heated. It was a little cleaver, keeping a pool warm with pure dragon power, but it looks a little inefficient. Then again, if Schorl was there to explain it, she would have probably claimed that efficiency wasn’t the goal, so much it just being an amusing spectacle that trained also severed the function of teaching the dragons obedience.
Scylla, having watched the spectacle long enough, returned her attention to her plate of food. She picked up a fork she had gotten from the buffet table, and began scarfing down every morsel she had claimed as hers. Sitting in the pool, stomach deep in dragon heated water, with a mouth-watering piece of roasted pork on her tongue, there was little more description for it than bliss. One could call what she was doing ‘pure luxury’, but most would never truly the extravagance of it all as much as she did, as few in the world suffered as much as she did to receive this reward. At that moment Scylla felt like she had found paradise after crawling through a barren wasteland.
The aquatic mare happily sent the lightly chewed piece of pork down her throat, and moved on to her next target, a hayburger she had customized by slipping a few slices of muenster cheese into it. The combination of salty cheese, a whole grain bun, and straw cooked into the form of a patty was an explosion of flavor over her tongue. Scylla could never remember a time that she had gone through a burger so quickly, and within seconds it was gone.
One by one, the items left the safety of the plate, and went into the acidic pit that was the voracious fish mare’s stomach. Everything tasted great, the water wrapped her body in a layer of simple pleasure, and she was finally doing something that didn’t involve her serving someone else with her labor or her body. Nothing could ruin this moment for her.
“I see you are enjoying the food.” The kelpie heard, as the water near her was displaced by a large mass. Her master, Rubric, had come to accompany her as she ate, carrying a plate of his own, that was like Scylla’s, was packed to capacity.
Scylla wasn’t off-put by this. She didn’t expect for the minotaur to just let her be for the duration of her stay in the pool room, that just wasn’t how his kind operated, so she just replied with an “Mhmmm!”, as her mouth was too full to reply with actual words.
“Good,” Rubric replied, being brief with his reply, “You are eating for two now, so you need to eat well from here on out.”
Scylla swallowed what she had in her mouth, just then realizing that the food was not just for her. That got her thinking, and then got her worrying.
“Master, do you mind if I ask you something?” she asked, not wanting to ask her real questions without permission, in case the minotaur would see that as a reason to punish her, not that he had been overly liberal with punishments beforehand.
“Go ahead,” Rubric answered, biting into a whole, but peeled, pineapple, its juices bursting out, some flowing into his maw, while the rest flowed onto his chin, chest, and even into the pool.
“What do you… I mean minotaur, eat?” asked Scylla.
That question threw Rubric off. Of all the questions to ask, he didn’t think he’d get one about minotaur eating habits. “Well… We eat a diet of fruits, vegetables, grass… pretty much the same things a pony would eat.”
“Then… Should I be eating this?” Scylla said, pointing her fork at a piece of meat.
“Oh, you’re worried that the meat might hurt the child inside you.” said Rubric, “Don’t be so nervous. When it comes to the child, they will be fine with whatever you eat. You’re the one digesting the food, they’re just getting your leftovers.”
“You’re sure?” Scylla questioned again, “I don’t want to be punished for something like this.”
Rubric gave a light huff out his nostril, shaking his head ever so lightly, “It will be fine.” he assured, “Minotuar have never found mothers eating their own, preferred diets to harm a minotaur birth. We minotaur are too durable to allow something like that to harm us, and it’s not like we can’t eat meat. Look, I even put some on my own plate.”
Rubic put his tray in front of Scylla’s face, and he was being honest. There was some form of meat on it, and that made Scylla feel better, until she took in what he had exactly, at which point she practically dropped her own plate into the pool.
“Tuna!” she shouted, bending over the minotaur’s tray, “And salmon, and herring!”
“There should be some crab on there too,” Rubric said, “I assume you missed it in between everything else up there.”
Scylla turned around and stood up out of the water, “I have to go get some now!”
The kelpie was about to step out of the pool completely to go get some of the fish, but just then Rubic grabbed her by the wrist. “Wait a minute,” said the minotaur, “It is poor manners for a slave to not clean their plate before getting more food.”
Scylla looked down at her plate, and became disheartened when she saw home much remained. The aquatic pony really wanted to get some fish, believing this was going to be the last time in a while that she’d have the chance. If she cleaned her plate, with how full she packed it, she might not be able to eat another bite.
“But master… I really-” Scylla tried to explain, her desire to devour her species natural source of nutrients compelling her to speak against the minotaur’s demand.
“Set down your plate,” Rubric demanded, to which Scylla obeyed in fear of backlash, “Now sit down in the pool.”
Scylla pouted, thinking that she had crossed some sort of unspecified line, and that now the minotaur wasn’t even going to let her eat the food she had already gathered. She sat down as told, hoping he might change his mind if she listened to him.
“Now open your mouth,” ordered Rubric.
Scylla once more complied, opening her mouth without thinking, simply responding to whatever was instructed to her as if the minotaur’s words were law. She assumed that this was going to lead to the bull grabbing her by the hair and pushing her face onto his dick, but was surprised when he instead shoved his index finger right into her muzzle.
“MRPH!” she yelped, the finger being every bit as thick as a stallion’s cock. She didn’t understand what the minotaur was doing, and for one brief moment thought he might have had a fetish for having his finger sucked. Then it hit her, the potent taste of cooked meat touching her taste buds.
Tuna! Scylla screamed in her might, the pleasure center of her brain going off like a firecracker.
The minotaur had slipped a piece of fish from his tray into her mouth, and was now rubbing it all along her tongue. She wanted to bite down on it, to chew the meat into a pulp, but Rubric was making that impossible as he neglected to remove his finger from the kelpie’s mouth. Instead, he started exploring the orifice, pushing piece of tuna around with the tip of his finger and he took a touch-based tour of the inside of Scylla’s head. He started from her tongue, but then moved about Scylla’s teeth, almost brushing her gums with the fish. Then, for a moment, he brought the slice of meat to her lips, making Scylla fear that he was about to take it away, only to find that the minotaur wanted to run it across their edged before sending it back inside. After that, he turned his finger upside down, running the tuna across the roof of her mouth, and up to the passage that lead to her sinuses.
At this point, the taste of both tuna and minotaur covered her mouth completely, and the scent of the cooked fish was flowing up into her nose. It was like her senses were becoming one with the piece of food, with the texture of it also remaining as a phantasm on all the places Rubric sent it across. For the kelpie, it was bordering on pure food-based bliss, but before she could be pushed over the edge, the piece of meat was pushed over the edge instead. The edge of the kelpie’s throat, that was, as Rubric sent his finger down into Scylla’s esophagus, sending the tuna to the point of no return.
It was only after that when Rubric retrieved his finger from her mouth, giving Scylla no other choice but to swallow and send the fish meat to her stomach. “How was it?” the minotaur asked, as he watched his shocked slave take heavy breathes.
“It was… amazing…” she replied, having never been fed in such a manner before.
The gentle forcefulness of it combined with the tuna’s overpowering of her senses created an experience that thoroughly excited the mare. Had she not been sitting in the pool, it would have been apparent that the minotaur had triggered something within her, though that might have still been noticeable with her nipples becoming erect in the process.
“Would you like to try it again, this time with some salmon?” Rubric asked.
Scylla thought about it as she caught her breath, but inevitably replied, “Yes, please.”
Rubric took the piece of salmon off the plate, repeating the process of hand-feeding Scylla again, with slight variations from the time prior. He started by pressing fish up to her nose, leaving behind residue at that spot that allowed Scylla a steady stream of fish fumes as he pushed the meat into her mouth like before. Once inside, he started at the tongue once more, but took a moment to press down on the salmon to release a burst of juices onto the kelpie’s tongue, coating it in pure flavor. The rest of it went pretty much the same, except that the minotaur skipped the roof of her mouth this time, and went right for shoving the food down his slave’s throat, and once he had gotten to that point, he took a moment to finger fuck the pipe leading to her stomach, which to Scylla felt fairly similar to being throat fucked by one of the members, except the finger was covered in furs that tickled her throat and cause her to squirm as she tried to laugh, but was unable to due to the mass tickling obstructing her throat.
When Rubric finally removed his finger again, it was covered with thick saliva, which the minotaur brought to his own lips and crudely slurped up. He finished by popping his finger out his mouth, and saying, “Can still taste a bit of the fish on my finger, but I think I prefer your flavor over that of the food.”
Scylla blushed, sinking down into the pool to shoulder height from embarrassment. Her master was so blunt when he spoke, and while she knew she shouldn’t really care by now, what he said was fairly lewd, spoken loud enough that any of the others in the room might have heard it.
“But you did well,” Rubric said, ignoring Scylla’s humiliation and giving her a pat on the head.
“I did?” Scylla said, not thinking she had done much of anything.
“The most important thing for you now is to be obedient,” Rubric said, returning to feeding himself, “So long as you do as you are told, and keep yourself and the baby inside you healthy, you’re doing a good job.”
Scylla, hearing that, became confused. Not because of the minotaur’s words themselves, but because Rubric was making efforts to interact with her in a way that wasn’t strictly sexual. Unless she was mistaken, this was actually the first time he had any kind of conversation with her. When Rubric spoke around her, even when it was about her, it had always been to someone else. Now that he was speaking to her, with praise and a small amount of kindness. It was weird for Scylla, coming from one of her many rapists.
Scylla had, during her time at The Society, seen every part of Rubric that made him a monster, and had every right to see him as that way, but seeing even the slightest bit of, for lack of a better word, humanity in him sparked curiosity in the kelpie. Made her form questions that she wanted answers for.
“Master…” she started, “I’m allowed to do anything I want in here, right?”
“Yes,” Rubric replied, lifting an eyebrow to his brood slave, “So long as you don’t try to hurt yourself, or go against a direct command from me.”
“Then… Can I ask you something? Something about you?” Scylla said, having many questions about her captor, the man she might be stuck with for the rest of her life.
Rubric shifted a little in the pool, “If you have questions, you can ask them.”
Scylla got the go-ahead, and was ready to take it. “I understand that this, the kidnapping, the enslavement, all of this, is how minotaur breed.”
“Correct,” Rubric answer.
“But what does that mean for us afterwards?” Scylla questioned.
“Afterwards? You mean after you give birth to my child?” Rubric asked rhetorically, “I’m not going to just toss you away, if that’s what you’re asking. You are my wife now, if that hasn’t been made clear. Not my first one, but still an important member of my family.”
“Family?” Scylla repeated. That word was incredibly strange in this context.
“When you finish your training here, and I take you to your new home in Minopolis, you will start a new life there as my property,” Rubric explained, “Your main purpose will be to give birth to minotaur children, and to behave as expected of a minotaur wife.”
“Is that all there is to look forward to?” Scylla asked, seeing the way the minotaur described it to be pretty bleak.
“To raise children and serve your mate?” Rubric said, “I suppose it is, but I don’t understand entirely why that would make you upset. From what I understand, one of the greatest dreams a woman can have is to find a mate to spend the rest of their lives with.”
“Maybe, but they usually expect some romancing involved, and not being forced into a life of birthing babies,” Scylla rebutted, “I did have things I wanted to do before being married too.”
“Hmmm…” Rubric murmured to himself, “There is no reason you can’t still pursue whatever goals you had prior to your enslavement to me, unless they go against your role as my slave.”
“What?” Scylla replied.
“Let me give an example,” said Rubric, “The deer we have here as slaves, you’ve encountered them, but have you ever talked to one?”
“Not really,” Scylla answered, as the only deer she even spoken to briefly was Xenia, since she was assigned to monitor the progress of the minotaur pregnancies.
“Well if you did,” said Rubric, “You’d find that while they are all slaves, many of them were able to do whatever activities they wanted, when they stopped trying to fight what we wanted for them. Take the one medical doe that monitors the health of your baby and modified parts of your body, for instance. If she was purely a sex slave, then do you think she’d be able to be a doctor?”
“I… suppose not.” Scylla answered.
“Of course not,” The minotaur confirmed, “If we used her for sex only, then she’d never have been educated on the things she does. Once she submitted to our will, we allowed her every opportunity to learn whatever skills she desired. Same goes for those who wish to be athletes, or those who are more creative and artistic. Minotaur society doesn’t squash these aspirations, we cultivate it and encourage it to grow.”
“So you’re saying, that I can do whatever I want, so long as I agree to be your slave.” Scylla said, believing she was understood what her master was saying.
“Maybe not ‘whatever’ you want,” Rubric corrected, “But if there is something that interests you, we can discuss it, and I can figure out a way that it can be redirected to something we can both agree to. So long as we can do that, I won’t object to you having hobbies, or a career if that’s what you are looking for. It might sound a little restrictive, but you might find that under my watch, you’ll be able to do more than you could’ve ever done by yourself.”
Scylla was a bit lost in how the minotaur put that, and Rubric could see her trying to puzzle out his meaning in her head.
“What I’m saying is that I’d be able to fund your projects,” Rubric attempted to explain, “Either in coin or in bodies.”
“Bodies?!” Scylla said, surprised at his choice of words, taking them at face value.
Rubric rolled his eyes, and corrected himself, “Personnel… While I’m sure you could accomplish anything you wanted on your own, wouldn’t things be easier if you had a few people to help you?”
“Maybe?” Scylla said, questioning the notion, not even sure what she would need other creatures to help her with, seeing as she didn’t exactly have planned out goals for her future, this early in her life.
“I’ll try to give another example,” Rubric said, starting to find it difficult to convince his kelpie of the benefits he was offering, “If you wanted to open a store, I could supply employees for that store. If you wanted to be a professional swimmer, I could get you a trainer. If you wanted to be an artist, I could get you an assistant to get you supplies.”
“You’re that rich?” Scylla asked, now amazed that he could promise such a thing.
“I’m a slaver.” Rubric answered, “In Minopolis, a slaver can be fairly successful, if they are good at their job.”
Rubric reminding the kelpie that he was a successful slaver made something click for her, “Wait, these creatures you would get to help me with what I’d want to do… Would they be other slaves?”
“Would there be something wrong with that?” Rubric replied, clearly showing that he had no qualms with that notion.
“I don’t want to have a slave,” said Scylla, making clear her objections, “I don’t want it to be my fault someone else loses their freedom.
“Do you really believe that would lead to the release of the one who I would put under you?” Rubric said in rebuttal, “Slavery is not a business where slavers only round up as many as they need to sell, and they would only be kept in captivity longer till another owner chooses to buy them.”
Rubric paused, and then let out a huff, emptying his lungs before taking in a deep breath.
“But this isn’t supposed to be a debate over what I do. If you don’t want another slave serving under you, so be it. I will not force one on you, though I would just like to show you the benefits of having someone at your beck and call.”
Rubric took a moment place his plate of food down at the poolside, and took a moment to reveal that he had been hiding something underneath it. In his hand, he held a remote, one that looked to be custom made for minotaur, as it fits comfortably in his palm, while the size of would have made it so a smaller creature would have had to hold it like a clipboard if they wanted to keep their other hand free.
“See this little do-hickie?” Rubric said, showing off the device to the kelpie, “It’s something those deer whipped up, a neat toy to amuse their masters. Let me show you how it works.”
The minotaur aimed the remote across the room, at some target that Scylla couldn’t see, and hit a button at the top. Then he pointed it at a spot on the edge of the pool, a foot behind where Scylla was sitting.
“Now turn around and watch,” Rubric ordered, “I’ve prepared something very interesting for us.”
Scylla did as she was told, spinning around in the water, letting her natural buoyancy keep her afloat, while resting her arms on the side of the pool. She didn’t have to wait long to see what the minotaur wanted her to see, as it only took a minute for a dragon to come walking around the pool, coming up to the exact point the minotaur had targeted with the remote.
This dragon was female, Scylla determining this as the reptile Approached with her shapely, feminine figure. A slender form with rounded hips, covered in pink scales, with an exposed pair of vaginal lips between her thighs for anyone to see.
The dragoness wasn’t merely nude, however, as she had on her similar attire to what the other dragons were wearing. A set of black, leather bindings on her wings, shacklings on her ankles and wrists, a gag made of sturdy metal rods that obstructed her mouth so it was wide open and couldn’t be closed, a thick blindfold that covered her eyes to prevent her from seeing her surroundings, and a gemstone encrusted clit ring pierced into the part of the body one would expect to find such a piece of jewelry. All these accessories were topped off by the presence of a steel ring around the dragon’s neck, lined with sizable spikes around the outside of it, just like the collars she had seen on every other dragon prior, and the gem-encrusted rings that tightly gripped the center digits of their hands and feet.
“One of the dragons?” Scylla questioned, the pink dragon now standing less than a foot away from her.
“I rented out this little controller for our stay here,” Rubric said, wiggling the remote in his had in display, “It is tied to this dragon bitch, and will allow us to use her as we please, so long as we have it.”
Scylla eyed the device more intently as she became incredibly curious about it, spotting several buttons and dials on it. She had heard myths before of a powerful enough magical artifact that could bend the wills of dragons to the wielder, but that was supposed to be an ancient staff. Could The Society have somehow created something based off of that concept? If so, where did they find such magic.
“Would you like to give it a try?” Rubric added, offering the remote to his slave.
Scylla took a look at the dragon standing near her, and several thoughts rushed her at once. She had to admit, the idea of having control over something like a dragon was… enticing. Some of her erotic novels, the ones written by Charming Tale, were often about one creature being at the mercy of another. Such stories always excited her, whether she pictured herself in the role of the one being dominated… or even if she pictured herself as the dominator. So to a pony with such dark fantasies, what Rubric was offering was the fulfillment of that fantasy, with what seemed like no strings attached.
On the other hand, Scylla had already had one half of that fantasy fulfilled, and she found it to be a mixed bag of mostly disappointment. She didn’t like her freedom stripped away to be forced into a life of sexual servitude, and she doubted that a dragon, of all creatures, would enjoy it anymore. As much as she felt tempted, she couldn’t let herself do something she believed would bring harm to another creature.
“Sorry, but I don’t think I could let myself do that.” Scylla said, not betraying what she said earlier about not wanting to have others as slaves under her. “And honestly, I wouldn’t even know what I was doing.”
“The control isn’t that difficult to learn, if you fiddle around with the buttons a bit,” Rubric said, still trying to get his kelpie to step down his dark path, “A lot of these are just controls for the dragon’s ‘motivators’.”
As he explained, he used his thumb to push up a sliding switch on the device as far as it could go. The reaction from the dragon was instantaneous, as her body suddenly went rigid as she made a loud, inward gasp, something coming over her, before she started to squirm wildly on spot. The dragon simply couldn’t control herself, it taking every bit of effort she could muster just to remain standing as her legs bent into one another, body bending over and arching backwards several times in a random pattern.
During the dragon’s cumbsy dance, Scylla couldn’t help but notice that several rivers of juices had started to travel down the inner parts of her legs, whatever was happening to her arousing her tiny draconic body immensely. The sight of the sexual joy the dragon’s torment was beginning to spark something in the kelpie herself, and she was happy that the lower half of her body was submerged in water, else her own arousal would have been easily picked up on by her master, and who knew what he would do then.
After a little over a minute, the minotaur slid the switchback down, releasing the dragoness from her agony. Amazingly, the reptile had managed not to crumple to her knees throughout her ordeal, and remained standing as she took heavy breaths that cause her flat, reptilian chest to heave as she was given a moment to recover.
“Still don’t want to give it a try?” Rubric asked, trying once more to get Scylla to take up the offer.
“No, I couldn’t!” Scylla replied, this time being much less convincing than before, but still trying hard to convince herself that she didn’t at least want to give it a try. “I mean, what if I accidentally directed her into the water and she drowned?”
“Oh, that’s not possible.” Rubric explained, “The deer set up the dragons so that they can’t enter the pool by themselves. These crystals along the pool act as a barrier for them, as well as serve a few other functions. Here, let me show you.”
To give an example of what he meant, the minotaur aimed the remote into the pool, and pressed the button that told the dragoness to head to where he pointed. With a click of a button, Scylla watched as each of the gemstones on the dragon’s jewelry lit up with a magical glow that immediately reminded her of the glow the slave deer made when happy.
As the magic in the stones activated, the dragon squirmed about lightly, showing less intense signs of discomfort than the time prior. Something about the feeling she was being inflicted with acted to guide her though, and soon she was on the move, heading directly for the spot the remote instructed her to go there, as if she knew exactly where to go regardless of the blindfold blocking her sight. It became clear to Scylla that the gems were what was leading the way, the rocks playing a game of hot and cold, one that the dragon seemed to have a handle on.
However, the moment she reached the edge of the pool, Scylla heard a loud ‘ZAP!’ come from the dragoness, and immediately she leaped backwards. Clearly a punishment had been received for trying to cross into a forbidden area, even if it wasn’t the dragon’s fault she was about to do so.
“See, perfectly safe,” Rubric said, “But I can tell that’s not what’s the issue.”
Scylla sunk a little into the water, believing that her rejection was starting to offend her maters. “Sorry..”
“Very well,” Rubric relented, “If you don’t want to take advantage of this opportunity, then I’ll just have to instead.”
The minotaur rose out of the pool, water trickling off in droplets from his fur. With a lift of his leg, he easily planted his hoof on the side of the pool, an act a pony like Scylla was too small to emulate, and with it hoisted himself out of the water completely. In the same motion, he took the time to undo the buckle on the small piece of fabric that covered his crotch, letting it fall to the floor to expose himself, showing no signs of concern if anyone was watching him. Without the loincloth, his cock, his instrument of rape and defilement, was let loose, and Scylla understood well what it meant when a minotaur took it out.
The dragoness, despite being blindfolded, knew that she was being approached, feeling the tremor the bovine made with each step of his dense, muscular body. A visible tremor took hold of her, but the dragon did not try to flee from the approaching mountain of a man. When Rubric reached his destination, he towered over the reptile, her head only coming up to his upper thighs, barely reaching his dangling ballsack.
With the minotaur so close, the pink dragon’s breathing pattern quickened, displaying that she knew what was about to happen to her. There were only a few short seconds of stillness as the two stood before one another, and then the minotaur made his move, bending down to grab the dragon by her hair-like finscale. Begin grabbed, the dragon tried to pull away, animalistic noises coming from the depths of her throat, but it was only met with an opposing force that pulled her forward.
The minotaur directed his captive underneath his semi-flaccid dick, then lifted her up till she was forced to the very tips of her toes. The height was just enough for the minotaur to press her face right into the space where his balls and cock met.
“There you go,” he said with satisfaction, “Breath in deep the scent of your masters.”
With her nostrils pressed firmly into the minotaur’s cock skin, she did exactly as the minotaur wanted, taking deep breaths through her nose to retrieve what little oxygen she could around the flesh obstructing the airway. Why she didn’t just breather through her open, unobstructed mouth gave was a mystery to Scylla, who was intently watching the display, fixated on it for reasons she didn’t even think to question.
When satisfied with the Dragon’s taking in of his scent, the minotaur released her finscale, letting her once more stand flatfooted. This didn’t last long though, as he only released the one part of her body to take hold of another, or, more to the point, the entirety of her body. The minotaur’s hand, which could easily wrap around Scylla’s waist when he held her during sex, was capable of enveloping the smaller creature almost completely, with only her head and feet escaping being caught in the minotaur’s grasp.
The dragon was lifted off the ground next, appearing near-weightless as the physically powerful male picked her up. Had the minotaur wanted, he could have swung her around with so little effort that she might as well not existed, being comparatively light as a piece of paper was to a pony. Something about this, or perhaps what Rubric was thinking as he did it, brought his cock to life, as it started to plump up to full erection. It didn’t take long for the sex organ to get to a size and shape Scylla was intimately familiar with, and thus to a state that the bull could use it for his intended goal of violating the tiny creature trapped between his fingers.
He started off by guiding the female dragon’s face to his crotch, resisting the urge to penetrate her immediately, and instead of placing her face at the very hilt of his cock, her mouth cupping one side of the enormous rod of meat.
“Appreciate the length of what will soon be inside you, lizard,” Rubric said, showing no form of respect towards the power that a dragon was supposed to represent in the face of his own overbearing might.
Rubric flicked the dragon across the length of his dick, running her mouth along it like a whetstone on a blade. He did this several times, unafraid of the dragon’s fangs, or the possibility of the dragon spewing fire on his vulnerable cock, sending smug looks Scylla’s way as he teased the dragon several times with the threat of penetration, low moans sounding from the helpless creature’s muzzle.
Scylla had never witnessed her master show such behavior before. Not so much the willingness to force himself on another creature, as he had done that often with her, but to take some sort of pleasure from it that wasn’t purely physical. With her, he was very often stoic during sex, doing his part and then leaving her to serve her role as a slave in The Society. For some reason, Scylla couldn’t help but hold form some jealousy from this, that her master was taking more enjoyment from another girl than he did her. This was a feeling formed through her mental conditioning, of course, but the implanted feelings were no less real to the kelpie.
Rubric gave the dragon about a dozen passes along his cock, before finally deciding it was time to stop threatening to penetrate her, and actually get to doing the deed. Cupping his hands together, the bovine transferred the dragon from one hand to the other, flipping her upside-down in the process, so that it was her little feet that were poking out of the top of the newly formed fist. With her position shifted, she was now ready to properly take the minotaur, her head at the optimum angle for insertion.
Taking a moment to hover the dragon’s head over the head of his penis, a bulb made of flesh that looked to be half the size of the dragon’s actual head, Rubric lowered her down upon it slowly. The pink dragon must have known it was time, as she made several woeful groans during her descent. When her reptilian lips touched the end of the dick, letting her know the size of what was going to enter her, the groans transformed to a semi-panicked shriek, one that was quickly stifled as the large object was pushed inside without remorse.
Even with the gag in place keeping her mouth at what looked like maximum gape, the massive minotaur cock manage to push her jaw further open as he entered into her, the dragon still at this point making muffled screams. That wasn’t enough for Rubric though, and he continued to push deeper, till Scylla notices a bulge at the space right above her collar, the noises coming from the dragon’s stuffed mouth turning into only gagging sounds, indicating to the kelpie that her throat was being entered.
Beyond that point, Scylla couldn’t see any more signs of progress, but she could tell by the amount of dick that disappeared into her mouth that her master had forced himself in deep. Had it been her own throat, he would have been well on his way through her esophagus. On a creature that small, she could only assume he had gone all the way to her stomach. It was a terrifying sight to behold, but also a bit impressive. To witness a creature of her size take something that big, without any apparent damage to herself, could only be described as phenomenal. Scylla wondered if this was the work of some of the deer’s elasticity potions, or a natural trait of the dragon itself.
After just a little more pushing, Rubric finally stop for reasons only he knew, the dragoness able to devour two-thirds of his shaft in one go. Scylla wondered momentarily if it was over, but she soon learns that was a silly assumption when he moved his hand upwards, the dragon still firmly gripped in his hand, and then down again to the position it was just at. It was a brutal display of his power over the small female, which he repeated non-stop at what must have been an agonizingly moderate pace for the dragon.
If anyone in the room was too far away to notice the small portions of dragon poking out from Rubric’s hand, they would have just saw what looked like the minotaur masturbating on the spot. From Scylla’s point of view, they wouldn’t be far off, as she stared in shock as he used the pink dragon like a sex toy, stroking her whole body up and down his dick. She couldn’t look away, the brutality of it paralyzing the kelpie. She knew minotaur could do horrible things, but this was way further than anything she had endured thus far, if only for the simple fact that her body was not tiny enough to be impaled so thoroughly by her master’s cock.
Rubric continued the motion for a few minutes, changing pace periodically, but never coming to a halt as sloppy sounds gurgled from inside the female wrapped around his penis, which were the only signs that she was still managing to get air in between the times when she was lifted up slightly and then pressed back down. Of course, this process could only go on for so long, before biology took its natural course. Scylla was able to witness the climax to this display just before it came, as she noticed her master’s sack clench up around his testicles right as he gave a final thrust and let loose a low bellow from his lips. One didn’t have to of been on the receiving end of a minotaur’s cock to know what happened next, as the exposed part of the bull’s urethra spasmed and pulsed, letting it be known that a particular fluid was being pumped through it, directly into the gullet of his victim.
Rubric kept the dragon pressed down on his dick for the duration of his orgasm, churning in as much sperm into her as his balls had to dispense. It didn’t take long for some of that cum to fill all the space available, eventually needing to find an alternative place to go, finding a pathway out of the dragon’s body through her sinus passage and out her nose. Becoming aware of the cum bursts erupting from the captive dragon’s nostrils, the minotaur slowly loosened his grasp, but never truly released her.
All he was doing was allowing the dragon more room for the cum flowing into her, as minotaur could cum in such volumes that it could flood a normal-sized pony’s insides till a noticeable bulge formed in their abdomen. For the dragon, her body was becoming so full that she was starting to inflate from it, turning her slender form out into a pear shape, rounding out near the hips, before becoming less and less swelled on the way up to her chest.
When Rubric finally finished cumming, he took his time to remove himself from the dragon’s maw, the jism he filled her with now coming out from a place other than her nose, as small bubbles of sperm formed around the seams of her lips when enough space was permitted to allow air to seep through. Upon full removal of the obstruction, a small geyser of the thick fluids exploded outwards, the dragon doing her best impression of an uncorked bottle of wine, a small popping noise created from the final separation of her lips from his oversized sex organ further correlating that image even further.
Having severed her intended purpose, the dragon was haphazardly rolled onto the floor from the minotaur’s grasp, in a way that was comparatively gentle compared to the prior treatment. It was a nearly passive dismissal of the dragon, as the moment the reptile left his hand, Rubric was already making his way back to the pool. He didn’t even look back as the dragon started to cough out more sperm, the pressure of her rolling onto her stomach forcing more of the substance out of her body.
“That was refreshing,” Rubric said, re-entering the pool, making it sound like he had just downed a cold beverage, instead of having just brutally raped another creature. “What did you think?”
Scylla was at a loss for words. She knew that minotaur could be rather careless when it came to those they defiled, she even knew her master showed that trait more than others, but the way he discarded the dragon was none the less shocking. Leaving her on the floor, inflated like a water balloon made of snake skin, spewing up pints of the minotaur’s semen, it was rather pitiful.
Seeing that his kelpie was no more intrigued with the prospect of being able to do as she pleased with the dragon, Rubric sighed. He had honestly rented the dragon out to amuse Scylla during her day of relaxation, but if she had no interest, then he couldn’t force her in this matter.
“Very well,” the minotaur relented, “I’ll just use her myself then. Don’t worry about having to do anything with her if you don’t want to.”
When Rubric said that, it dawned on Scylla that she, through her non-compliance, was about to let something horrible happen. She knew that the minotaur was trying to show her that enslaving another creature was not a big deal, but if she wasn’t going to humor him, then he would just take out his frustrations with her on the dragon. Having witnessed how far he went with her prior, to make her suffer through that again through her own inability to cooperate would not sit well with the kelpie.
“Actually… Master…” Scylla started, very meekly, as she still wasn’t all aboard with the idea of treating another being as a slave.
“Hmmm?” Rubric replied, practically mooing the hum.
Scylla steeled herself, feeling she had to some sort of enthusiasm if she was to make Rubric believe her words. “I think I would like to have a turn with the dragon.”
Equestria Trainers' Society: Fish Out of Water
Stories of a Minotaur Slave Mare
Ever since the day that Scylla accepted that she would be a minotaur’s slave, the kelpie found that things became a lot easier for her. Her life was no longer daily sessions of sexual service to the members of the Society, becoming a series of relaxing days and small training practices to prepare her for her future. The training itself had even become sorta fun, as the trainers eased up on discipline, and the exercises themselves became more educational than physical.
This was partially on account that her pregnancy was now unignorable, her stomach swelled up nicely as she approached her second trimester. At this point, the deer monitoring her progress recommended that stress of all kinds be brought to a minimum, which meant no painful bondage positions, no rape sessions, and even things like spankings were to be limited to points where it was absolutely necessary. For Scylla, and her new outlook on her life, “necessary” might as well mean “never”. Now that she had comfortably climbed into the role given to her by her master, Scylla had no reason to fight, and no reason to argue. All she had to do was perform her lessons the best she could, follow the Society’s rules, and obey her master, and everything would be smooth sailing.
That’s why when a pair of minotaur, neither being her master, placed her in light bondage and led her down the maze-like corridors of the Society’s facility with a leash, she simply let them do so without so much as an accidental reflex of resistance. She had gone through the process so many times by now that she understood the process, paraded around completely nude till the fear and embarrassment of the act no longer scared her, and the loose linked shackles and cuffs they used only as a precaution against fleeing were much less restricting than the arm binders, hobbles, mouth gags, and blindfolds they used to make her wear while being transferred from one room to another.
Not to mention she now had a constant travel buddy in the form of her draconic slave sister; Mina. The two had been together for a while now, and with the dragon’s obsession with ponies, she willingly went along with anything that allowed her to spend more time with them. Mina gave no struggles as she received her own bonds, and once the minotaur were done, she and Scylla were in matching ‘outfits’, ready to be lead to their next destination.
“Ready to go?” one of the large males asked, directing the question to the kelpie.
This too had become a frequent occurrence for Scylla, where the trainers and guards would actually consider her input to some degree. While she still had no real control over what she was scheduled by the Society to do, it was a little better that she wasn’t just dragged around anymore. Compared to how it was when she started, this was the Society’s VIP treatment for slaves.
Knowing where she and her dragon companion were going that day, Scylla tilted her head towards her bed, pointing out to the minotaur holding her leash a small bag sitting on top of it. The large bovine male went over to the bag, took it in hand, and looked inside to see what it contained.
“Ah, yeah,” he said after seeing what the bag held, “You’ll be needing these today, won’t you?”
The minotaur gave the bag to Scylla, who smiled from behind her gag as she took it. With her bag firmly gripped in hand, the small group of four had no further reason to stay, so they departed from the kelpie’s living quarters.
Within minutes the minotaur pair lead the two slaves to where they would be spending the next hour or so, Scylla a little excited about the destination. It was one that she had been to before, though not all that frequently. It was also the one place in the entire facility that no slave would object to going, and was only permitted to those who complied with their training.
“You know how this works,” one of the minotaur guards said, as they approached a set of doors, ones that would have looked fairly odd to those who didn’t know what they were for, having a set of deadbolts on the outside of the room, “You get an hour in here, and then you will be taken to your next training session.”
Scylla gave a pleased mumble from behind her gag, letting her guide know she knew the rules. With that confirmed, the minotaurs took a moment to remove all the bindings from the two females, placing all the equipment in a chest kept near the door. Once the final pieces were removed from Scylla and Mina, with the only things left on them being their slave collars and the magic rings Mina wore to keep her in check, the minotaur opened the doors and ushered the two inside.
The males did not enter themselves, closing and locking the doors the moment their wards stepped away from it. “Finally,” Scylla said in reply, happily going through the bag she had brought, “It’s been so long since I’ve been back here.”
“This is the place you were talking about?” Mina said, taking in what little there was to see, “It looks like an employee break room.”
“I think that might be on purpose,” Scylla replied.
The room was not extravagant, nor held the kind of luxurious atmosphere that every other room in the facility seemed to have. It was just a plain room, with several tables and chairs placed around, and a kiosk stand in the back with a pony stationed at it. Of course, that was what was special about this place.
It was not a place set up to entertain the important guests of the Society, it was a place created specifically for the ‘lesser’ residents of the facility, and thus the one place where expenses were actually spared.
The fact that it was plain didn’t matter though, as the appeal of this area was that it was an escape from all the lavish areas the members had access to, and from the more bleak and oppressive areas the slaves were kept when not being used. It was a place to just relax, and not feel any form of obligation was upon you. Even in a place like the pool room, the idea that one had to behave a certain way was ever-present. Here, you could do as you pleased with absolutely no owners, trainers, or club guards around to stop you.
“Come over here,” Scylla said, heading to the kiosk, “Let me show you what we can do.”
Mina followed, having been instructed by her and Scylla’s master to follow the kelpie’s instructions, so long as they didn’t openly defy Rubric’s will. The two slave girls approached the stand, a white, earth pony mare with a blue and pink mane stationed behind it, currently looking through a bit of Society approved reading material, a catalog featuring many bondage items being displayed in use on different pony models, most likely published within the facility.
“Hey there Bon Bon,” Scylla said once she got to the counter, “Been a while.”
Bon Bon lifted her eyes from her picture book, and gave a pleasant, but half-hearted smile to the mare she only somewhat knew. “Hey… Scylla, was it?”
“That’s right,” the kelpie replied, “You managed to remember it this time.”
As far as Scylla knew, Bon Bon had been captive in the Society for a little less time than she had been, brought in at the same time as her girlfriend, a mare named Lyra. The two were used against one another to keep both mares in line, and unfortunately for both this made them compliant enough to be overtaken by the head mistress’ enchantments. Bon Bon was so deeply converted that she was appointed as a ‘trustee’, or slaves that were given active jobs within the Society itself.
While Scylla didn’t know for certain, there were rumors among the slaves that trustees also underwent some advanced level of brainwashing to make them completely loyal to the Society, unable to do anything to act against its goals. If that were true, then Scylla couldn’t tell with Bon Bon, as she acted pretty much like any pony who ran a kiosk might, being fairly bored with the position given to her most of the time, using the vast amount of free time she had to do anything else to take her mind off the mundanity of work.
“You’re looking a little bigger around the belly this time,” Bon Bon noted, the kelpie in front of her showing her pregnancy very well at this point, “I’ve been seeing a few girls around here the same way.”
Scylla didn’t say anything to that, as she wasn’t really allowed to discuss the topic. Schorl didn’t want rumors about her or the others of her group spreading, though Scylla didn’t know exactly why that was. Still, the crystal mare had compelled her and all the other minotaur broodwives to keep quiet, through one means or another.
“I guess that’s not what you’re worried about right now though,” Bon Bon said, detecting that the topic of the kelpie’s pregnancy were off-limits, “You’re more worried about spending all those saved up slave slips.”
“Yup,” Scylla answered happily, both grateful to avoid the forbidden subject, and because she really was here for that reason. She tossed her bag onto the counter surface, its opening spilling out several slips of paper held within it.
For all the work Scylla did pleasing the members, she had been awarded with a fair share of slave currency to buy herself some nice things from the only place that would accept the worthless pieces of paper as if they were bits.
“You got anything new in stock?” Scylla asked, observing some of the items on display.
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” said Bon Bon, looking at her inventory herself.
The slave kiosk provided plenty to choose from, at least for those who had nothing. Makeup, brushes, mirrors made of polished silver, books and magazines, boxed meals made of real food that was normally not permitted to the Society’s captives, toys of the sexual variety, and more utilitary items such as blankets and pillows, which unless earned were not always given as a default commodity.
For Scylla, the books held some interest to her, most of which being the kinds of erotic novels she used to read in secret, while others were more informational literature about sexual techniques, or proper slave behavior. The magazines were no different, consisting of articles on BDSM, erotic positions, and other such articles. Everyone who looked at the selection knew that those books were chosen to keep those being trained in a certain mindset, but having them to read was better than sitting around bored when not being trained or used.
The beauty items were considered by most slaves to be an investment, as few really cared how they looked while being captive, but knew that the Society members cared. If they saw a pony putting in an effort to make themselves look nice, it was often rewarded with more slips in return. It was even assumed that Schorl endorsed the idea that those who worked to please the members should get more, which was why those items were some of the cheapest offered, with expensive name brand perfumes, lipsticks, mascara, and other things of that nature sold for next to nothing, even when it considering they were using fake money to pay for it.
But the real prize for any slave here was the food. While not as good as the things they served the members, what was available would tempt any pony going through slave training. Candy bars, granola bars, daisy sandwiches, apples, raw celery, and quite a bit more things that didn’t need to be cooked to enjoy. Compared to the nutrient rich paste that was normally on the menu, these things might as well have been gourmet meals handcrafted by the chefs of the royal palace. The taste of fresh produce or a sweet snack was simply divine after months of that substance day in and day out.
“So what can I get for you?” asked Bon Bon, ready to fulfill her purpose and sell some of her things.
“Can I get four bottles of apple cider, a box of gumdrops, and one of those salads over there?” Scylla replied, listing off the things she wanted, “Do you see anything you want, Mina?”
The dragon looked over all the things in clear view, but found little she actually wanted. “Do you got any gems?”
“I’m afraid not,” said Bon Bon, “Lady Tourmaline doesn’t allow anything that she thinks could be used for an escape attempt to be sold here, and gems can be sharp enough to cut through bonds. The only thing like it we got are these?”
The earth mare went underneath the counter, and shortly after came back up with a small, dimly glowing crystal in hand. Scylla knew what those were, as they had a general-purpose in the facility as magical batteries for some of the equipment used throughout it on a daily basis. Normally if you wanted to power something like a vibrator, you would have to be a unicorn so you could fill it with your own magic. But with these, anypony could use such devices without having to cast magic themselves. As common as they were to her now, she had never encountered one outside the walls of the Society, as Equestria didn’t have such items, as they were made by the deer kept as slaves there.
“Do they taste good?” Mina asked, bending over the counter, sniffing at the crystal-like a dog might have done to a suspicious piece of meat.
“I don’t know,” Bon Bon replied, “I’m not a dragon.”
“Would you like to try one?” Scylla said, taking one of her slips from her pouch, knowing that was the price for a single crystal battery.
Seeing the kelpie’s gesture, Bon Bon slid the crystal to the dragon, who then picked it up and put it to her lips. With a tiny bit, Mina was able to go right through the piece of rock, breaking off a portion of it before chewing them into slivers in her mouth. This immediately caused the glow it held to die, as the energy inside the crystal dissipated.
“Hmmm…” Mina said after a couple of seconds of chewing, looking down at the crystal in her claw, “It’s not very tasty.”
“I guess that means the crystals they use as batteries are low quality,” said Bon Bon, not really knowing what determines the flavor of a gem, “But maybe I have something else you’d like.”
Going to the candy section of the booth, the earth mare pulled out what looked to be several clear, colored rocks on a stick. “Do you like rock candy?”
“I’ve never tried it before,” Mina replied.
“I’m sure she’ll love it,” Scylla said, “Add three of those to our total.”
Bon Bon added three pieces of rock candy to Scylla’s order, each one being valued at twice the price of the crystal Mina munched on prior, due to it being considered a luxury item for slaves. Scylla still had plenty of slips left after the addition though, so she proceeded to get more things while she was there, including several of the erotic books for reading on her downtime. There was a time when she thought it would be best to save her slips, but after realizing that she had no control over when she got to visit the little shop for slaves, she learned it was better to just spend what she had on the things she wanted there and then.
This especially made sense as she neared the end of her training, when she might be moving to her new home in Minopolis any day now, so she might as well use the remainder of her ‘Society Slave Bits’ before being taken someplace where they no longer had any value. When Scylla finally finished her purchases, her pouch had become empty, but her and Mina’s arms had become full of items.
With that finished, the two headed for the tables so they could enjoy their new treats and toys until they were picked up by the guards. All they had now was time to kill, and they tended to enjoy themselves.
“So, which one are we gonna sit at?” Mina asked, carrying the bulk of the things for Scylla, commanded to do such things for the kelpie if needed, since she shouldn’t be lifting heavy things in her condition.
“Well…” Scylla scanned the room, looking for a good place to sit. She intended to just find an empty table at first, but then she laid eyes on a familiar pink unicorn sitting at the far end of the room, “Oh, let’s go over there! Hey, Charming! Mind if we join you?!”
At the call of her name, Charming Tale, the unicorn member of the Elements of Servitude, looked up from a notebook she had sitting in front of her. Seeing Scylla coming her way, she waved to the mare, and then beckoned her to come take a seat.
“Didn’t expect you to be here,” Charming said, picking up her notebook and writing in it, while maintaining eye contact with her associate, “I don’t think they’ve ever let two of us in the breakroom at the same time before.”
“Maybe they figure that by now we don’t have any intention of trying to escape,” Scylla said, partially joking about their inescapable situation.
“They might be right about that,” Charming said, likewise in half jest, “It’s not like we could get far like this anyways.”
As Scylla placed her items on the table, she could see that Charming’s stomach was just as large as her own. Of course, she already knew this, seeing as all six members of her arranged group usually spent their mornings together being examined, but it was still a little surreal for Scylla that they were all pregnant, and perhaps all with minotaur children inside them.
“So how have things been?” Scylla asked as she and Mina found their seats, “You’re off of club duties now too, right?”
“Yeah, got pulled what I assume was a week ago,” Charming replied, “Right now my master just has me going through vaginal exercises to help make birthing a little less stressful when it happens.”
“My master said he’d have me do those soon too,” said Scylla, “But for now he’s having me learn some new sexual techniques for after I give birth. He said after all he’s put into me, he expects some returns once I’m able to pleasure him again.”
“Guess he thinks that now’s the last chance he has to train you for servicing him.” Charming added, “Since soon none of us will be able to do much of anything.”
As the two ponies discussed their training and upcoming deliveries, Mina chewed on her rock candy and drank some apple cider Scylla had slid her way. It was intriguing to listen to the two ponies talk, seeing how positively they had come to the notion of their impending motherhood. The first time she met Scylla and her friends, they showed some apprehension to the concept of ‘forced impregnation’, but now they appeared to have warmed up to the idea. Mina just considered it a part of a pony’s adaptive nature, and they could usually find some way to overcome problems presented to them, even if the only solution was to stop seeing the problem as a problem.
“So what are you writing there?” Scylla asked eventually, just as she opened up her own bottle of cider and took a sip, “Is it your next big story?”
“Yes, actually,” Charming replied, “I was jotting down a little love story between two earth ponies.”
“Gonna put in some sexy bondage scenes in iit later, as usual?” Scylla asked, being thoroughly familiar with Charming’s works.
“No, not this time,” Charming said, jotting down a few more words in her notebook.
“No?” Scylla replied, finding that awfully strange for the author.
“Yeah, it’s funny,” Charming said back, “The moment your fantasies become commonplace, you start fantasizing about other things.”
“So now you’re wanting a romantic relationship with somepony?” asked Mina.
“It’s not really that I want it,” Charming said, “I’m okay with how my life is, but fantasy isn’t about looking for other things because you’re unhappy. I write because it amuses me to look at the world from a different perspective, and to entertain myself with things that I wouldn’t normally be able to do.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Mina said, “I like comics myself, but I don’t know how much I’d want to be one of the superheroes. Actually, your pony comic heroes are not really all that powerful when it comes to what some dragons can do.”
“Exactly,” said Charming, “What’s special to one creature is mundane to another, and we are always looking for new experiences. I still find all this kinky enslavement bondage stuff incredibly sexy, but I’m starting to find things like simple kissing a little more arousing, just cause I don’t see it as much.”
“I think I get what you mean,” said Scylla, “Actually, I’ve been wanting a little more romance in my life too. That’s why the other day I talked to my master and-”
Before Scylla could recount too deeply about the deal she made with her master weeks prior, the door to the break room opened up, drawing the attention of many residing in it at the time. The doors only ever opened when somepony was being allowed in, or when somepony was being taken out, so some were wondering if it was their time to return to work, while others were curious who might be brought in.
The door opened only momentarily, just long enough to have one of the slaves pushed through, and then slammed behind them. It was an odd event, as the guards would normally allow the slaves to go in on their own accord, but it soon became clear why they had been so harsh with this one.
The slave, a bat pony mare, immediately turned around, just in time to see the door slammed shut, and then threw herself against it. “Come on!” she said, giving the door a single hit of her fist, “I don’t need a break. I could go through a dozen more seasons no problem.”
Both Scylla and Charming Tale recognized the bat pony instantly, though any slave at the Society probably could have done the same. She was one of a few bat ponies present in the facility, and a fairly noticeable personality among them, as she was often excited to be taken advantage of by the club’s members. She was also, like the kelpie and the unicorn, one of the Elements of Servitude.
“Hello Nightshade,” Charming said, greeting the bat mare, “Your master forcing you to take a rest today?”
Charming didn’t have to speak too loudly to catch the bat’s attention, despite being a moderate distance away from the entrance. The sound of her voice was easily picked up by Nightshade’s receptive ears, and hearing a familiar voice, she turned around and smiled at those she considered her slave sisters.
“Scylla! Charming!” she said, walking over to the table, “I haven’t seen you two since… well yesterday morning. Did they force you to skip breakfast today?”
“They didn’t ‘force’ us,” Charming replied, “They had to let us skip it so we could come here today.”
Since the morning routine for the Elements often included a season of minotaur lovemaking, the girls were given a pass that day simply so they could walk properly to the break room, and not be solely focused on the aches they would surely have after being penetrated by their master’s cock for the duration of their stay.
“You two still haven’t gotten used to getting dicked by your masters regularly?” Nightshade commented, while claiming a seat at the table for her own, “You Equestrian girls sure are frail. It only took me a few weeks before I got over those post-sex pains.”
“We don’t all have the same advantages as you when it comes to being a minotaur wife.” Charming replied, since the bat mare had made a point to bring up that unique advantage.
“I guess not,” Nightshade chuckled, “Hey, hold my seat. I got a ton of slips I need to spend.”
The bat mare got up and went over the kiosk, with Scylla looking at her curiously as she walked away.
“You wondering where she keeps her slave slips?” Charming said as she took notice of the kelpie’s stare at the bat pony, “She makes so many tips during work they worked out a credit line for her. It’s amazing what Lady Tourmaline will do to make things easier for those who just comply.”
“That’s not what I was wondering,” Scylla said, “I was wondering what you two were talking about with that mention of an ‘advantage’ she had.”
“Don’t you remember?” said Charming tale, “Lady Tourmaline said a while back when she introduced Nightshade to the minotaur that she comes from Minopolis.”
“Our masters’ homeland?” Scylla said, surprised. She had indeed forgotten all about that, as she rarely interacted with Nightshade outside of group activities. Outside of knowing Nightshade was an eager and willing sex slave, there really wasn’t much Scylla knew about her.
“Yeah, if I’m not mistaken, she was brought here to find a husband, and complete her training as a broodmare.” Charming confirmed, “But some of that might be a backstory I made up for her.”
“But she does come from Minopolis,” Scylla thought aloud, “Do you know what that means?”
“That she was messed up way before coming here?” Charming replied, not seeing where Scylla was taking this.
“It means that she knows exactly what’s gonna happen when we get there.” Scylla said, ecstatic at this opportunity.
Her biggest fear at the moment, as a pony who had never been outside of Equestria, was that she would be thrust into a whole new culture with absolutely no idea of what she was being dragged into. Now she had a source that could explain to her exactly what to expect.
“I guess you’re right,” Charming said, “My master’s been pretty quiet about his homeland too, not that I’ve asked him about it.”
“Then it’s settled,” Scylla said with authority, “When Nightshade gets back, we’ll interrogate her on everything she knows about Minopolis.”
“You ponies get so wrapped up over the strangest things,” said Mina, finding it humorous that Scylla was so interested in the minotaur homeland, even though not too long ago she had a similar interest in Equestria and the ponies that lived within it. Hypocrisy wasn’t a concept that dragons understood though.
Not long after settling on their plan, Nightshade came back to the table with a very plump plastic sack, one so large she had to set it on the floor next to her when she sat down again. “So we’re stuck here for a while,” said the bat mare, not seeing this time unviolated as a reward like most others would, “You girls wanna fuck?”
Had it been months ago, Scylla would have spat out the apple cider she was currently drinking, but now the question was so common it hardly phased her. Her reaction instead was a calm reply of, “I don’t think Lady Tourmaline wants us doing each other without permission.”
“There are no rules against it as far as I know,” Charming added, “But it would probably lead to some sort of punishment if it caused a disruption in the break room. Besides, I’m too exhausted to screw right now.”
“Awww, you two are no fun,” Nightshade replied to her associates, bending down to grab something from her bag, “You got this one opportunity to let loose, and you want to spend it writing and sipping cider.”
“It’s more like a break from the norm,” Scylla said back, “And we have something much more important to talk about with you.”
“Really?” Nightshade said, taking hold of something in her bag and lifting herself back up to bring what she had into view.
“Yeah, we were wondering… Wait, is that a…” Scylla was just about to get into her questions, but what Nightshade held caught her attention, as well as the attention of the other girls at the table.
In unison, the kelpie, the dragon, and the unicorn’s eyes locked onto a fruit Nightshade held, one in the shape of a peach with a deep purple skin. Knowing exactly what it was from their own experiences with the fruit, the three said its name together. “Passion Fruit?!”
“They sell those in here?” Scylla added, seeing as that was the only way the bat mare could have gotten those since she came in.
“Oh, yeah, but you have to have special permissions to buy them,” Nightshade explained, “They don’t want those who aren’t supposed to be addicted to them to become addicted by accident.”
“So they allow those they want to drug to have a way to get their fix through hard work and obedience,” Charming noted, quickly connecting the dots, “Clever use of the slave slip system.” She quickly flipped to the back of her notebook and jotted down some ideas that popped into her head, directly inspired by the revelation that had dawned upon her.
“So you’re addicted to Passion Fruit?” asked Scylla, coming to the obvious conclusion.
“Me?” Nightshade replied, “No. Thestrals, or at least the fruit bat species, don’t get addicted to it like other creatures. I can go weeks without it and be fine, but it just tastes good and gets me in the mood.”
Scylla, having seen the size of Nightshade’s bag, questioned if the bat mare was being truthful, or was even aware that she might be addicted. She didn’t want to pry though, since she had other things she wished to talk about, and increasingly less time to talk about it.
“Ok, but back to what I wanted to talk about earlier,” Scylla said, seeing no better way to circle back to the prior conversation, “We really want to know what Minopolis is like.”
“Minopolis?” Nightshade said, taking a big bite out of her passion fruit, one so ripe that the juices from it dripped onto her chin. She didn’t even finish chewing it before she said with a full mouth, “What do you want to know about it?”
“Scylla’s curious about what it’s like there,” said Mina.
“I’m a little curious myself,” Charming added, “I think that’s only natural when some creature is being forcibly relocated.”
Nightshade gulped down her piece of fruit, “I mean... It’s nice I guess. Not too different from Equestria I assume.”
“You assume?” Scylla asked.
“Nightshade, Equestria isn’t full of creatures trying to enslave other creatures for their own evil goals.” Charming said, but then gave that a little thought, “At least not to the point that it’s commonplace.”
“‘Evil’ is a bit much, don’t you think?” Nightshade said, defending the minotaur. “But I thought you meant the atmosphere. Minopolis isn’t a bad place to live.”
“Can you explain it a bit more?” Charming said.
“I don’t know. It’s hard to compare it to any place else, since I’ve only been away from it one time prior to this. You do remember we are in a building with no windows, right?”
“Ah, right.” Scylla said, a little embarrassed. It might be hard to compare one place with another you’ve never seen. “But you said you’ve been away from Minopolis before?”
“Well, I wasn’t born there,” replied the bat pony, “I used to live on the outskirts of Equestria with my family and a few other bat ponies, in an area beyond its borders, and just before you enter a place called Bone Dry Desert. I didn’t live in a city back then, though.”
“Where did you live?” Scylla asked, believing that was the most appropriate question.
“In some caves with a few other families. I was told once our ‘tribe’, as some of the elders called it, left Equestria long ago, when Princess Luna was banished to the moon by her cruel sister, Celestia.”
“Ummm…” Scylla wanted to say something, hearing Celestia being called cruel, but Charming stifled that attempt with a quick shake of her head, “Ok, so you used to live in caves. Did you like that more or less than Minopolis?”
Nightshade gave Scylla a bemused look, “That’s a hard question to answer. You do realize that in order for me to get to Minopolis, I had to be captured by the minotaur. My whole tribe was, actually.”
“But you seem so well adjusted to it now,” Mina said, bluntly noting on Nightshade’s mostly positive reception to being a sex slave.
Nightshade sighed, but gave a light smile as she took another bite out of her fruit, “Let me explain. Yes, I absolutely enjoy being a minotaur sex slave, being here at the Society, and having my body used by the members. It wasn’t always that way though.”
None of the other three girls said anything to that, each wanting to hear how a pony could eventually come to enjoy enslavement by the minotaur.
“I was a teen when the minotaur came for us. They must have known about us somehow, cause they didn’t just find out where we lived, but also knew that we slept through most of the day. When they came to enslave us, a lot of us woke up to find a minotaur putting us in chains.”
“That awful,” Scylla said, remembering what it was like for her and her father when they were captured.
“I suppose it was, back then,” Nightshade replied, “I do remember being scared when it happened. I was woken up by the yells of my parents, as they had already been chained up and held down, and before I could try to run away I was grabbed by a different minotaur and put into a cage. After that, everypony who lived in our cave was brought to a large area within it, where they proceeded to separate us into three groups.”
“Why did they do that?” Mina asked, this particular ritual being dissimilar to what an elder dragon might do.
“One group were the ‘prizes’ of the minotaur who had participated in the capture. To put it simply, as part of the payment towards a minotaur raiding party, they are each allowed to pick a single creature out of those captured that they like, and they get to keep them as slaves. The selections are done by rank, with the raid leader selecting first, then his second in command, and so on. The minotaur then will have a group of Antlerteans they brought along ready their new possessions for use, and rape them in front of all the other captured slaves.”
“Did that happen to you?” Charming asked.
“No, I was too young.” Nightshade answered, “Minotaur are strict about only using adults as sex slaves, both for personal moral reasons, and because even if they didn’t care about age, the potions the Antlerteans make can’t compensate for the size difference. It’s actually Minopolis law that its citizens can only fuck adults.”
“That’s good to know,” Scylla said, finding a slight glimmer of ethics in the minotaur from that.
“Didn’t stop me from having to watch my mother get raped though,” Nightshade added after, “She was picked out by the raid leader, stripped naked in front of the entire tribe, and forced to become his mate. My father was so pissed, but all his anger did was draw the attention of the second in command, who picked him as his raid reward. By the time the raid leader poured his third load of cum into my mother, my father was begging for mercy with his ass in the air, face pushed into the dirt, and his new master’s cock hilt deep inside him. I was so scared at the time, watching as others in the tribe were picked and dragged into the victory orgy, not knowing I was protected from being picked at the time. When I look back on it though…”
Nightshade’s mind wandered back to that time years ago, seeing the bodies of both bat ponies and minotaur dancing in the light of a bonfire her captors had made. There were few details that she accurately remembered from it all, but there was one aspect of it that the bat mare believed she remembered perfectly.
“I remember that my mother, who had been brought to tears, stopped crying as her master took her body. I never spoke with her after that night, but I think that she was starting to get into it a little by the end of it.”
“Sweet Celestia, what would make you think that?” Scylla said, trying to imagine what would give a young girl the impression that her mother would enjoy being raped.
“You mean besides witnessing plenty of women who enjoy their enslavement in Minopolis?” Nightshade replied, “I don’t know, really. I’ve heard in the past, females who have already gone through birthing have an easier time with the minotaur curse, so that might be part of what happened.”
“Minotaur…” Scylla started.
“Curse?” Charming ended.
“You two haven’t been told about that?” asked Nightshade, “Ok, so you know how it hurts a lot when our masters fuck us? That’s not just because they are too big for us.”
“It’s not?” Questioned Scylla.
The bat mare shook her head, “From what I‘ve heard, the minotaur are actually cursed so that whenever they have sex, it hurts the one they’re screwing, no matter how gentle they try to be. Not all forms of sex, since oral with them can be pretty great, but if their penis goes in anywhere, then there is no helping the pain, no matter what you try.”
This was new information for the other girls at the table, as one could easily assume that the size difference was what cause the agonizing sensations that came with minotaur sex. It was hard to tell if what Nightshade was saying was real, but the bat pony seemed to believe that it was on some level.
“There does seem to be one thing that makes the curse easier though,” Nightshade went on with her explanation, “As rumors say that if you’ve already given birth, it doesn’t hurt as much, and hurts even less the more you have. It’s never supposed to go away completely, but after a while the pleasure you feel is supposed to be much more than the pain.”
Seeing as Nightshade couldn’t have known this first hand, Charming asked the logical question that would come from such an assumption. “And where did you hear about this from?”
“From the deer,” Nightshade said, “And I think you’ll all agree they enjoy minotaur sex a bit more than your average pony.”
The deer did enjoy the minotaur’s attention, but that applied to not only the females, but the males who couldn’t give birth to counteract the curse. Charming hummed to herself as she picked this up quickly, but didn’t say anything to contradict Nightshade. Even if the idea of a curse, and how to ease it, wasn’t true, it was better to let the others think that was the case, in the hopes that one day their burden would naturally become easier.
“So what about the other two groups?” Charming asked to try and divert Scylla and Mina from the thoughts she had formed, “One was for the raiding party, but what happened to the group that you were in?”
“I was in a group that wouldn’t be used that night. Males and females that hadn’t been selected, and the few children of the tribe. We were all set aside, only witnessing what was happening to the others, but not participating. For a successful raid, there has to be a profit, and that comes in the form of slaves who can be sold to the less ambitious of the minotaurs.”
“Less ambitious?” Scylla repeated.
“Not every minotaur is a slaver,” Nightshade clarified, “Some are merchants, constructors, politicians. Those who don’t have the skill or will to go out and capture a bride of their own. Thus the slavers sell the leftovers of their raids to them, but most minotaurs prefer their females to be untouched by other minotaurs, so they can’t sell a slave that was raped during a raid.”
“Probably to make sure that any children the slave has are theirs,” said Mina, “Dragons are pretty territorial of their mates too, and won’t take one if they smell like another elder. Actually, it’s part of the reason we take lava baths, cause stuff removes everything.”
“So you were sold to a master when you were taken to Minopolis?” Scylla concluded.
“No, that doesn’t make sense,” Charming said, “If that were the case, she wouldn’t have been sold here during our arrival ceremony.”
“Kids can’t be sold as slaves in Minopolis,” Nightshade explained, “When fillies, foals, or whatever children of other species are brought to Minopolis, they are taken to a nursery to be raised to understand minotaur culture. Most children in Minopolis, even the ones born there, are not raised by their parents. To allow them to be brought up away from things that might be harmful to a growing child’s development.”
“Like all the sex?” Charming said, taking a guess at the most obvious aspect of the culture that might be a problem.
“Mostly,” Nightshade said, “Minotaur aren’t shy about making their slaves go nude in public, public discipline, or even public sex if the occasion calls for it. They even have a special place in town dedicated to public displays of birth, because they consider every new minotaur brought into the world as something to celebrate.”
“So they hide children away from all that?” asked Scylla.
“For a while,” Nightshade answered, “Like I said, they place all children in nurseries within their kingdom, as soon as they are born if it’s possible. There, they are taken care of by Antlerteans, or other slaves, that watch them around the clock, guided by a few minotaur overseers who are paid by the kingdom to make sure things are run smoothly. Minotaur calves are usually put in their own facilities, while all the ‘lesser’ species are placed together in others.”
Charming gave a sigh at the comment of ponies, and other creatures, being lesser. “And what is life like growing up in one of these isolated facilities?”
“Not bad, really.” Nightshade replied, thinking back on her youth, “Meals, playtime, time outside in an enclosed area with lots of space to run. You’re taught how to cook, clean, given a basic education about topics you would expect in a school. When you reach puberty they teach you about sex, and what your eventual purpose will be for the minotaur, and when you reach adulthood they transfer you to another facility to start training you for your future role as a sex slave.”
“And all children are brought up like this?” Scylla said with a pout, as she was starting to like the idea of raising a family with Rubric, and didn’t want the children she had taken away.
“Not all,” said Nightshade, “Or at least from what I heard. I haven’t seen this, of course, but from what I understand, some minotaur will allow their mates to keep their children as a reward for good behavior. It must be something the mothers want, because minotaur really don’t care much about their offspring, at least not directly. We’re taught as part of our slave training that young minotaur are normally raised by the tribe, and the fathers might not even take interest in them, while perhaps taking interest in another young bull.”
“But I can keep my child?” Scylla asked, wanting confirmation.
“If your master says so, yeah.” Nightshade answered.
That put Scylla’s mind at ease. It couldn’t be that hard to get Rubric to agree to raising a child with her. She already got him to agree to buying a dragon for her, so as long as she was on her best behavior, what would be one more little mouth to feed?
“Hey,” Mina interrupted, “Something’s been bothering me. You said your tribe was separated into three groups. One was slaves for the raiders, one was children and those being sold to other minotaur… What happened to the third group?”
“Oh, the third group consisted of our elders,” Nightshade said, “Those who were too old to be used as sex slaves, or as slave labor. The minotaur didn’t think that it would be worth it to take them to minopolis, and that it could have been cruel to leave them behind to fend for themselves.”
“They didn’t… kill them, did they?” Charming tale asked, that being the only alternative she could think of.
“No,” Nightshade answered pleasantly, quickly relieving the tension the unicorn had created with the question, but immediately caused it to return when she added, “They had them all turned to stone.”
The other girls at the table, even Mina this time, went wide-eyed. Nightshade noticed this, and rolled her eyes at their surprise.
“It’s a practice the minotaur utilize to bestow mercy on weaker creatures that have been captured by them, but can serve no purpose towards their goal of re-population. They use cockatrices that they raised for that particular purpose, and turn those reaching old age into stone statues, before putting them on display as works of art in Minopolis. There is an entire museum dedicated to females who had provided service with their bodies, where they can be admired and preserved for centuries.”
“T-they do this to all their slaves?” Mina asked, suddenly a bit worried about her future
“I’m not sure they do it to all their slaves,” Nightshade said, “From what I hear they’ve only started doing it in recent decades, but it’s pretty popular. I’m sure the masters enjoy the idea of keeping their slaves in some form forever, and I’ve even heard some are doing this so they can de-petrify them years later, and be able to use them a few more times. It’s like putting a bottle of wine in storage, so you can enjoy it in the future.”
“Are the creatures that are petrified… aware of what’s happening through all this?” Charming said, equal parts curious and terrified.
“Who knows?” Nightshade said, “No one has been removed from petrification yet, at least not that I’ve heard of. Still, don’t you think that it would be neat to be frozen in time, put in a place where generations can admire you and the things you’ve done, and you be able to see them enjoy your presence?”
The other three girls gave each other uneasy looks, as none of them felt that this possible future was as romantic as Nightshade was trying to paint it. Being enslaved was one thing, being made into breeders was another, but being forced to stand for all eternity, completely aware but unable to move, speak, or do anything as time passed you by was a whole new kind of nightmare.
“If you’re that worried about it, talk to your masters about it,” Nightshade said, picking up on their discomfort about the idea, “But I was taught that the life of a minotaur slave is a pretty set plan. You grow up in a nursery, you learn what you need to be a part of society, get bought by a master, spend the next twenty to thirty years serving him and birthing minotaur, then you’re given a peaceful retirement as a statue before you have to suffer the aches and pains of growing old, with a possibility of having a few more years of fun if your master wants to reminisce about the good old days with you. Seems like a good life to me.”
There was certainly some brainwashing involved with how well the bat mare was taking the presumed final destination of her life. In Equestria, being turned to stone was a punishment, one reserved for the most evil of villainous creatures to endure. That alone would make most assume it wasn’t something they’d want to experience themselves. Scylla would absolutely talk with Rubric later to confirm if this was true or not.
“Anyways, I’m not even worried about that right now,” Nightshade said as she moved away from the topic, “I just want to have some fun before I become a dedicated minotaur wife. After being raised and trained for most of my life, my time here at the Society is my last chance to really let loose.”
“I guess this would seem like a vacation for you,” Charming said, “You’ve been groomed for a particular role, knowing you were fated to be the breeding slave of a minotaur, and here you can at least have sex with other ponies and truly enjoy sex to the fullest, even if it is through the kinds of ponies that would be patrons of a place like this.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty great.” Nightshade replied, grabbing another one of her passion fruits, “but soon the time will come to say goodbye to this place. Our bellies are plumping up nicely. If I’m right, we might have one month left here, and then we’ll spend the rest of our pregnancies at our new homes.”
“Do you think we’ll be able to keep in touch?” Scylla asked, thinking about the other elements, and how she had grown attached to them, having been made to interact with them on a daily basis.
“If our masters live in the same cities in Minopolis, I’m sure they’ll set up some playdates for us.” Nightshade reassured.
At about this time, the doors to the break room opened up, and in came the minotaur guards that had brought Charming Tale, Mina, and Scylla there before. While the four girls were speaking, other minotaur had come and gone, delivering and picking up other slaves, but it appeared that it was their turn to be retrieved.
“You three,” one of the minotaur said sternly, “Front and center. Your break is up.”
Scylla gathered up what remained of her purchased items, as did Mina with her treats and Charming with her notebook, and the three made their way to face the minotaur. However, as they moved away, Mina stopped to ask the bat pony one last thing in private.
“Hey, you don’t really think they’d try to petrify a dragon, do you?” the dragon asked nervously, finding that to be a breach of freedom that she couldn’t tolerate.
“I don’t see why not,” Nightshade answered, “You might be some of the first dragons the minotaur ever obtained, but they pretty much treat all slaves the same. I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you, though.”
“Why’s that?” Mina asked, a bit terrified at this point.
“They only turn slaves to stone when they get near the age where they are too old to serve. How long do dragons live again?”
With those words, Mina relaxed. The bat mare was right. Dragons lived a ridiculous amount of time, and it was more than likely that her master would die long before she showed any signs of aging.
“Besides, are you telling me that you intended to stay a slave once you become a full-sized dragon?” Nightshade said, believing that she knew something that the dragon was hiding, “The minotaur are strong, but I don’t think even they would be able to keep you restrained once you get bigger. That is unless…” Nightshade gave a devious smile, slightly revealing her fangs, “You would want to still be a slave when you get bigger. Throwing away some of that dragon pride might lead to something you’ll love later on, if you give it a chance.”
Mina blushed as she was given her options, and found that she didn’t disagree with most of the outcomes, even the ones unbefitting of a dragon. Maybe she would enjoy a life of servitude, so long as it gave her the ability to be around the ponies she was so fascinated with. She wouldn’t have to decide on what she wanted to do immediately, so keeping an open mind about her future wasn’t a bad idea for now. She couldn’t help but assume that her even considering such a life was due to some form of mental conditioning placed on her through the Society’s training, but even acknowledging that, she couldn’t help but feel the space between her thighs moisten.
“Mina, come on!” the dragon heard, as Scylla called for her, “If you don’t get over here now, you’re gonna get punished!”
The dragon let out an “Eep!” and joined back with her slave sister.
Nightshade leaned back in her seat as the dragon walked away, admiring the reptile’s backside, wishing she could have had a chance to sample it. The bat mare felt it was a shame that this interaction came down to just talking, but got where they were coming from. After all, she had once been in their position. Being ripped from the world she knew, having questions, wanting answers.
All minotaur slaves experience phases of their lives, where they despise their captors, resist their imprisonment, struggle against their training. That eventually leads to a form of acceptance, be it willfully, reluctantly, or by force. Obviously being a minotaur slave was not the preferred life for every creature, but that all depended on the environment they lived in prior.
For Nightshade, all she had was a small tribe and a cave that she called home where she and her family struggled to survive on the outskirts of Equestria. While the day she watched her loved ones get put in chains and raped was probably the worst thing she ever witnessed, it lead to a much better life for her in the process. At the nursery, she was able to make lots of friends, got three warm meals a day, lots of attention from her caregivers, and an education she would have never gotten had she continued to live the life she had prior.
Sure, it was a shame that her birth mother had been taken, raped, and had probably birthed many brothers and sisters for Nightshade by this point that she would never know, and that her father had most likely been turned into a femcolt cuck that works his ass off in a Minopian crystal mine, but Nightshade had reached a point where she questioned if that was an undeniably bad outcome.
She had endured the worst the minotaur had to offer, and her prize was a life where she didn’t have to worry about her future, because it was already decided for her. It was the classic debate of trading freedom for security, except she really didn’t have a choice in the matter. The only option she had was if she wanted to enjoy the result or not, and even if that choice might have been heavily influenced by those who held her leash, the choice to be happy with her situation was preferable than being miserable all the time.
So with a smile and a chomp of her passion fruit, Nightshade watched those she chose to call friends return to their training, hoping for their sake that they could each gain the same kind of happiness that she had achieved.
Equestria Trainers' Society: Fish Out of Water
Time passed for Scylla in the Society, and with each passing day, she became more enamored by the idea of being a minotaur’s bride. As much as she should have hated her master, what he did to her, and what he would be doing to her in the future, The training, brainwashing, and her own tainted rationality were allowing her to ease into the idea much more smoothly than most other slaves. It was a very unusual event within the vile halls of the facility, but something about Scylla, and how she had adapted to this terrible situation, made her a perfect candidate to be a minotaur wife, at least mentally. While she accepted her fate, there was another who was not nearly as happy with the situation, both for her and himself.
Pathfinder had been fairly miserable all throughout the duration of his enslavement, as all sane ponies should be in a situation where they are held against their will and molested on a regular basis. His body had been used as a plaything by a good part of the Society’s member roster, and even a good share of the other slaves had gotten a turn with him during his stay. He had been forced to share a bed with both mares and stallions, the latter of which he greatly detested, as he was in no way gay prior to being captured.
Of course, he found it harder to continue holding that preference in sexuality with each passing day, as Schorl’s mental magic had made it impossible to dislike sex with other males. She had locked the pleasure and arousal he experienced from a single physical encounter with another male in his mind forever, and that had altered his psyche from that of a dedicated straight stallion, to that of a reluctant bisexual.
So when he woke up in the comfort of a plush bed, surrounded by three other stallions, his ass aching and his mouth tasting of balls and cum, while his fur was soaked in the sweat from his own body and those who he had slept with that night. He was a wreck, in a physical sense as his whole body had been strained the night prior, and in a mental sense, as he felt equal parts satisfied and disguised with himself. Schorl had ordered him and three other stallions being trained into femcolts, a unicorn, a pegasus, and an earth pony, each being just old enough to be called stallions, and each bearing a strangely similar ‘Equal Sign’ cutie mark, to enjoy a night of passion with one another.
They had been locked into a room, with the trio filled to the brim with passion fruit juice, putting them all in a state of lust-guided euphoria where they couldn’t keep their hands off one another, and told to do it with each other however they pleased. That led to an interspecies four-way where each participant took turns being the bottom, sucking and taking cock from the other two before giving some cock themselves. The fact that Path had done that, and enjoyed it, alone would have left a bad enough taste in his mouth that he wouldn’t have cared about the other flavors currently occupying it, but it was the purpose behind this exercise, and how he went along with it, that made him reflect on what he had done.
As with most things Schorl put him through, there was a meaning to this beyond a simple night of gay sex. Of the four in the stallions, Path was the only one completely sober. He was the one who could have stayed out of it as the other three, nearly two decades younger than himself, went through the symptoms of the passion fruit. That was his initial intent, having pushed a couple of them off him when they made their first advances, but when they started getting into it with one another, he found himself unable to keep his eyes off of them, and eventually joined in.
He wanted to blame Schorl for it, not just in an overall manner due to her psychological conditioning of his sexuality, but more directly. He had hoped that she was sitting behind a wall, watching through a peephole, waiting for the moment he showed the slightest interest in the other males, so she could trap the thought in his mind like she had many times before, because if that wasn’t the case it would mean he had taken advantage of three other ponies who weren’t in their right mind. That would have been the perfect scapegoat for his actions, but he couldn’t help thinking that if that had been what happened, then he wouldn’t be feeling as badly as he did.
Path sighed to himself, looking at each of the fillyish stallions that shared the bed with him, feeling genuine remorse that he gave into temptation. Nothing he could do about it now, except clean himself up and get ready for what was to come. There was no way he was going to be left there for long, and despite how much he hated his role in this place, as soon as his captors came for him, he’d have to be put through yet another trial where he would be at the mercy of anyone who wished to use him.
Pathfinder looked around, remembering that he was in a standard room used by members for sex, which came with a bathroom that had its own shower. Spotting the door, he made his way off the bed, scooting around the bodies that surrounded him as gently as he could. It wasn’t gentle enough though, as just as he lifted himself off the mattress, he felt a tug on his tail.
“Leaving so soon?” said the earth pony, a cute pure white stallion with blue eyes and a short cut mane, with small bangs in the front, wearing only his slave collar, a set of fingered shoulder-length gloves, and thigh-high knee socks that were made of black leather, and a smile on his face that told Path that he was still under the effects of the passion fruit.
The younger stallion gave Path’s tail a light tug, which was all it took for the pegasus to sit himself back down on the edge of the bed. Once seated, the stallion crawled to Path’s side, putting his face at the front half of Pathfinder’s body.
“Look, you’re still ready for more action,” said the white pony, spotting Path’s bulging cock.
Path’s face went red, as that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago. His dick had inflated the moment his tail was grabbed, activating with but a mere touch. After months of any physical contact leading to sexual situations, his penis started to make it a habit to simply react to any interaction with another creature, and it made for some pretty embarrassing situations where any refusal he had was met with ‘but your body is saying you want this’, or some similar comment from those who used him. It happened so much that he had stopped objecting, since his protests didn’t even matter in the first place.
“It certainly looks that way,” said another voice as the face of a light blue unicorn with darker blue hair popped out on the other side of his body.
His mane was cut in the exact same way as the earth pony, which to most non-pony races would give them a ‘twin-like’ appearance, but to ponies, there were enough facial discrepancies to see they were in no way related.
“Well we can’t leave him this way,” said the final stallion as he slid out of bed, a pink pegasus with a teal mane that made the group into a set of triplets. He crawled on his hands and knees in front of Path, making seductive motions with his body, before sitting on his legs right in front of the elder pegasus, “Can we ?”
As if that was the signal to act, the three stallions pushed their faces into Pathfinder’s dick at all sides, having no hesitation about pressing their lips and tongues against the sex organ. Path immediately moaned, unable to think clearly about what was happening to him. It was one of the sexiest things that had happened to him in his life, having three cute stallions lovingly messaging his cock with their mouths, even though not too long ago the same scenario would have sent Path running. At this point, he couldn’t help but get into it, making pleasant noises, breathing heavily, and putting his hands into those well-cut manes so he could guide those faces where he wanted them to be. He’d certainly regret it later, but in the heat of the moment, this was his definition of bliss.
The sensations that shot through him as the pegasus lovingly lapped at his base and sack, carefully caressing his balls with his mouth, gently slurping one into his muzzle, popping it back out, then doing the same to the other. The way the unicorn slide his saliva covered mouth muscle over the length of his shaft, tilting his head away from Path’s body so as not to poke him with his horn, going up and down the vein of his prostate, meeting with the other two males’ lips as he met the restrictions of his area of attention. The eagerness of the earth pony as he encircled his lips around the head of the cock, making a clockwise pattern over Pathfinder’s flare with his own tongue, bobbing his head up and down to move the sensitive piece of flesh in his mouth, and sucking on it with moderate force when he felt the need.
Pathfinder stood no chance against these three younger males, and before long he released a load of sperm right into the earth stallion’s muzzle, which the white pony let spill from his lips, trickling down droplets of the white fluids for his partners to partake of as well. The trio continued past the climax, lapping and sucking at the older stallion’s dick, Path’s reaction incentivizing them to go further in an attempt to make it happen over and over.
They managed to achieve two more orgasms this way, the second one causing Path to fall onto the mattress as his back arched, his cock covered in a mixture of his sperm and the other stallons’ spittle. The defeated pegasus was left panting, his body put through much more than one might think for just having sat there and let three others do all the work. His mouth was dry, his mind was stuck in a haze of afterglow, and he could hardly feel anything below his waist, save for a pleasant ache from his genitals.
Of course, the trio was hardly done. They had subdued their prey, and now it was time to
Part of Path, the part still true to his original desires, wanted to tell the earth pony to stop as he directed his cock to the hole at the center of his rump, but that part of him was vetoed by two other parts of him; the one that had come to enjoy sex with other guys, and the part that had decided it wasn’t worth the effort to fight against Schorl and her organization, both aspects of himself most likely implanted by the crystal pony herself.
Seeing no way or reason to escape the three stallions’ attention, Path grabbed a pillow on the bed and buried his face into it, awaiting the sensation of his anus spreading as cock entered into his ass. He soon felt a now familiar push of a cockhead into his sphincter, as well as stretching of his O-ring as the tip of the earth pony’s dick, started to make its way inside. His entire body tensed up, dreading and anticipating the moment of full penetration, and the thorough fucking that would come after.
That undoubtedly would have been what happened, had the sound of a lock turning and a door opening reached Path’s ears, followed by the voice of a mare saying “Time’s up boys”. The other three stallions gave a set of disappointed sounds, but without objection heeding the words of this female pony. To his relief, Path felt the dick retreat from his ass, and the other bodies make their way off the bed.
Lifting his head up from the pillow, Path looked to the now open entrance door to the room, and saw that a minotaur had arrived, accompanied by a pink mare with purple hair that had a blue streak going through it, who was wearing a dress suit that made her look like a business oriented pony. The other three stallions had taken up spots in front of this mare, sitting on their knees, hands on their thighs, and looking up to her like obedient puppies as they awaited her next command.
“Did you three have fun?” asked the mare, patting the white earth pony on the head.
The earth pony nodded, “It was hard getting our playmate to join in at first,” he said, relaying what had happened during their playdate.
“He was trying not to join in, telling us that he’d just stay to the side and mind his own business,” the unicorn said next, “But we didn’t listen.”
“We flirted and teased him until he finally gave in,” the pink pegasus finished, “And then we had a lot of fun screwing each other, just like you ordered Mistress Glimmer.”
The pink mare shifted her eyes to the minotaur, “There you have it,” she said, “I told you that my boys would be able to do the job.”
The minotaur huffed, and pulled a moderately sized coin pouch from his belt, offering them to the mare, who took it and started counting the coins inside. Once satisfied with the amount, she offered it to her white stallion, saying only the word ‘Teeth’ to him, which prompted the male to take hold of the small sack with his mouth.
“It was a pleasure doing business with you,” the mare said, turning back into the hall, “Come along boys. There is still plenty of work today, and your sisters are already busy picking up your slack.”
Pathfinder watched as the stallions followed their owner, crawling on hands and knees as they showed that any dignity they once had was long since stripped from them. They would go on to service other members of the Society with their bodies, or perhaps the mare herself, depending on the intent she had for them.
With his three sex partners gone, and his cock finally deflating back into his sheath, Pathfinder sat himself up on the bed, awaiting his next instructions. The minotaur would have most likely preferred that the pegasus crawled over to him and prostrated himself like the trio had done prior, but the bull was not his master, and Path still held some level of pride.
“Did you enjoy your reward, pony?” the minotaur asked, fairly glib with his question. There was no reason for the minotaur to actually care if Path had a good time or not. He was just there to retrieve the pony after all.
Path knew he required a response though, so he gave a halfhearted nod, as he couldn’t refute that he did take some form of enjoyment from his time in this room, no matter how much he hated himself for it.
“Good,” the minotaur said in response, “I was hoping that a night of unrestricted pleasure would help make what would happen next all the more easier.”
Path rolled his eyes, interpreting this to mean he had three stallions plow his ass all night long to loosen it up for his own turn. Without a single word, the pegasus turned his body around, bending himself over the edge of the bed, and lifted his tail to be taken by the minotaur.
“No, no,” the minotaur said, “Not that.”
“Then what?” Path said with annoyance, wondering what other than sex that the bovine could want from him.
The minotaur’s glare intensified a little, not appreciating Path’s tone, but he didn’t let that deter him from the intent on this meeting. “Do you know who I am?”
“I’ve seen plenty of minotaur guards since I’ve gotten here,” Path replied, “You’re going to have to tell me why I should remember you over any of the others.”
“I suppose that’s understandable,” the minotaur replied, “My name is Rubric. I am your daughter’s master.”
Path felt a signal shoot through his head when the bovine finished explaining himself, and looking at Rubric he realized that he had seen this particular minotaur several times prior, picking up Scylla from their shared bedroom a multitude of times in the past. He assumed it was just one of the random guards taking her somewhere to be used, but didn’t realize that he was collecting her to personally violate her.
Anger built up inside Path, and after a few seconds of contemplation, he got up and ran to the minotaur, with the intention of punching the bull for daring to touch his little girl. He managed to get right up to Rubric, and managed to land a blow before the minotaur did anything to stop him. Of course, he found out right after that Rubric didn’t need to stop him, as the fist landed harmlessly against abs that were as hard as stone. Only the bull’s leathery skin prevented Path from hurting himself in this exchange, acting as a thick layer of padding.
“Are you finished?” Rubric asked, looking down upon Path unamused, “If you were a Clydesdale, I’d actually be worried you’d leave a bruise, but as a pegasus with no weapons, you have no hope of injuring me in a fight.”
Rubric brought a hand down to grab Path by the arm, and without warning pulled the pegasus up to his chest. The act was effortless on the minotaur’s part, the light frame of a pegasus being like a feather when moved by the massive bicep of the bovine. Pathfinder soon found his way into a chokehold, with Rubric facing him forward, while placing his unused arm around the stallion’s throat. Luckily for Path, the collar on his neck was keeping him from being strangled, but he could tell that part of that was because the minotaur wasn’t really trying.
“I’m sure you know this by now, but if I really wanted to, I could leave you battered and broken. The only thing your kind can do when attacking one of my kind is insult them for thinking we’d be that weak.”
“Okay, I get it!” Path said, submitting to the might of the minotaur, “I won’t do it again!”
Rubric dropped the stallion, who fell to his knees. “I didn’t want to get rough with you, but I won’t allow a pony to show me disrespect.”
Path rubbed his throat, and looked back at the bull. Direct confrontation was never a viable choice, seeing the size of the male. If his wings were not bound, he might have been able to outmaneuver a creature that big, but an average pegasus like himself could never hope to harm a creature whose muscles had the density of a brick wall. It was stupid of him to try, but path knew he had to at least try, if only for his own peace of mind in knowing that he had tried.
“So what are you here for?” Path asked, “Here to gloat that you’ve brainwashed my daughter?”
“I’m here to talk to you,” Rubric answered, “To show you that while I might not have the best intentions for Scylla, that I am not the worst thing that could have happened to her, and then to discuss the future, both hers and yours.”
“And I suppose I have to sit through this one sided ‘discussion’?” Path said, know well that any opinion he might have in the matter would be overall ignored.
“I could leave you here,” Rubric said, “Have some other minotaur take you back to your room, to wait in your cage till someone else wishes to make use of you. I’ll let you make that decision, but I think it would not be wise for you to make that choice.”
“And why not?” Path asked, seeing the downtime, no matter how little it might be, as something worth taking if it were being offered.
“Because you’d never see your daughter again.” Rubric said bluntly.
Those words instantly put an intense fear into Path’s very being, a numbness traveling through him. “What?!”
“Your daughter’s time here is about to come to an end, and soon I’ll be taking her back with me to Minopolis. Seeing that you are property of the Society, that would mean that you’d stay here while Scylla will be taken to a faraway land that you will probably never see yourself. I believe that outcome would upset my slave, and that’s why I’d like to talk to you about the idea of coming to serve me.”
“Is that even a choice I’m allowed to make?” Path said, pointing out the obvious fact that he had no agency when it came to who his owner was.
“Believe it or not,” Rubric said in rebuttal, “Most of my kind don’t prefer slaves that resent us. So if you find it absolutely apprehensible to serve me, then I will gladly abide by that sentiment.”
Path out a hand over his face and grimaced. “So what? You’re going to show me how you’re actually a good guy, and how I should be happy you raped my daughter?”
“No need to be sarcastic,” Rubric said, “Just accept my offer to talk.”
“Fine,” Path said, clearly being verbally strong armed into this.
With the pegasus’ acceptance, the minotaur pulled from his belt a leash and blindfold, letting Pathfinder know it was time to leave the bedroom.
The two males walked the halls of the facility side by side, Pathfinder being led blindly through pathways that had started to become slightly familiar to him, even though he had never seen them with his own eyes. Then again, it was less that the halls were familiar, and more that the process of traveling through them had been burned into his memory. Being guided by a leash, surrounded by darkness, the feeling of a carpet laying across a stone floor underneath his hooves. No matter which hallway he was made to walk down, the experience was almost always identical.
If there was any way to determine what direction he was going, he would have learned it by now, especially with his special talent being map making, which one would think would aid him in memorizing the layout of his prison. At this point, all he could do was wait for the minotaur to get them both to wherever the bovine was taking them, which inevitably happened when path felt himself be turned off the carpeting and directed through a doorway. Once taken a decent way into this new area of the facility, Rubric tore off Path’s blindfold, to let him see where he had ended up at.
To Path’s surprise, he didn’t find himself in yet another bdsm dungeon, seeded club room, or a bedroom designed for the comfort of members as they reemed his ass. He instead found himself on a walkway, on the second floor of a large room. The platform he was on followed the wall of the room, and looped around until it came back around to form a squared path. A safety railing had been placed at the part overlooking the floor below, which when he looked down to it felt more like the atmosphere he had become accustomed to, as the lower floor had several large restraint devices and what looked like prison cells that lined the spaces underneath the walkway.
Many of the cells were occupied, holding one or two ponies within, both male and female, and of all of the common pony tribes. There were even a few bat ponies mixed in, though they were few and far between. In a way, the scene looked like one typical for the Society, looking like just another holding area, or a set up for some upcoming orgy.
“This…” Rubric said, having given Pathfinder plenty of time to look around, “Is where we keep a particular breed of troublemakers. The kind that put their noses in places they don’t belong, and those who might have been in a position to stop our operations, had we not planned for their interference.”
Path didn’t get what the bull was getting at, but decided to give the ponies held here another look. Some of them had even taken notice that they were being watched by this point, and were sending Rubric dirty looks. With some getting closer to their bars, Path started seeing a pattern among the prisoners, that many of them were physically fit and muscular, and that they all had either pure white coats or blue-sh black coats. It was almost like it was a uniform for them, the thought passing through the pegasus’ mind, and slowly came to a conclusion.
“These are royal guards, aren’t they?” Path said, his attention to detail in map making allowing him to fit the pieces together with only visual clues.
This place was designed as some form of poorly made prison, mocking the law enforcers held within it, and royal guards often changed their coats magically to reflect that they served one princess or another. Even in the Crystal Empire, guards would have their coats crystalized to blend in with the crystal ponies. It was the reason many of the soldiers looked similar in the guard, as otherwise pure white or black ponies were fairly rare.
“Very good,” Rubric said to the guess, “We occasionally have to deal with the royal guard, capture them, and have them trained to serve our cause. It would have been nearly impossible to do, but we managed to bribe a few of higher rank to turn in any that start snooping around, and hiding any evidence of our activities. Guard ponies are also a hot commodity, as the rich love it when they can act above the law.”
Finding out that Equestria’s guards weren’t even able to deal with the Society, Path’s heart plummeted. The odds that he and Scylla would be rescued was already slim, but this just took small odds, and reduced the possibility to nearly non-existent.
“So you wanted me to see that it was impossible for me to resist,” Path said, annoyed at this point. He didn’t need to see this to know that he was screwed in every possible way.
“Not quite,” Rubric said, “I wanted to show you the man your daughter could have belonged to. I know he was going to be here today, around this time, to punish the female who allowed herself to take Scylla’s place.”
Path gave Rubric an odd look, as he didn’t see the point of this exercise. It wasn’t like seeing some other slaver punishing a guard pony would change his mind on anything. The pegasus had seen and experienced all kinds of punishments, and it had failed to persuade him up to this point. He didn’t respond though, as nothing he could say would change the minotaur’s mind on showing him this.
The two males had to patiently wait for the arrival of the expected minotaur, but he did enter the room shortly after. He didn’t enter through the same door as they had, but instead via a door at the ground level of the guard prison. The door was placed on the opposite side of the room from where Path and Rubric were standing, an intentional placement by Rubric, and it didn’t take but a second for this new minotaur to notice the other massively muscular male.
“Rubric?” he called up to the bovine watching from above, “What are you doing here? I never see you in this section of the building.”
“I’m training one of the slaves,” Rubric explained, tugging on the leash that was still on Path’s collar to bring him into the other minotaur’s vision. “Having him watch as you play with your toy.”
“How unlike you,” the minotaur said, wasting no more time standing as he made his way past the cells full of guard ponies, “I thought you said you find the punishment of the guards barbaric.”
“I do,” Rubric replied, “But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t have its purpose. In this case, it will be educational.”
“Whatever,” said the minotaur as he got to the cell he was looking for, “I think you just secretly enjoy this stuff, but don’t want to admit it. No sweat off my back, just stand there and get your rocks off for all I care.”
The minotaur below unlocked the cell, and went inside. After a brief moment, the prisoner held inside was tossed out, a mare her arms held in conjoining L shapes behind her back within an armbinder, and her muzzle held shut with a sheathed muzzle gag. Unlike the others, this one had greyish fur, which while unusual, wasn’t unheard of from the royal to keep their natural color.
The mare stumbled on her hooves, trying her best to fight against the force exerted on her body, but in the end she found herself landing on her side on the ground, which was made of dust covered dirt. This immediately soiled her fur, and before the cloud her body created could settle, the minotaur that shoved her out of the cell made his way to her.
Path kept an uneasy watch over the situation unfolding below him, turning his head so he wouldn’t have to watch directly, but not allowing for the two figures to leave his sight completely. This was the reason he was brought here, after all, and if he didn’t at least humor his own captor a little, it would surely lead to consequences, most likely that he would not be allowed to see Scylla again.
“You like that, you little bitch?” the brutish asked the mare rhetorically, knowing that she neither enjoyed his treatment of her, nor could express he like or dislike anyways. “Well then, I think you’re gonna like this next bit even more.”
The minotaur reached down at the prone female pony, receiving a few hooves to his legs for his effort. He winced when being attacked, even hesitated as he snarled in pain, but the mare’s attempts to stop him did little but anger the bull, and through his fury he was able to take hold of her by the mane. He used his grip on her hair and his strength to lift her from the ground by her follicles, and as she was made to go upright, Path could finally determine that this guardsmare was an earth pony, whose natural weight alone would have made the stress on her scalp terrible, and was in no way helped by the toned muscles she had, nor the large bulge in her stomach that let Path know she was several months pregnant.
The bull could have stopped the moment his victim’s hooves touched the ground, but he was not satisfied with simply bringing her to a stance. He continued to lift, until the earth mare’s entire body no longer had contact with the ground, the entirety of her body weight was being held up by the scalp. This made the muffled sounds from behind the gag double in volume, the mare evidently in pain as more than a few strands of her hair were disconnected from her skull in the process. Again, she tried to fight back the only way she could, by kicking at the minotaur in her suspended state, but the minotaur easily evaded her this time, as at an arm’s length it was easy to tell where her attacks would end up.
“Settle down,” the bull mocked, setting her back on her hooves, before using her mane as leverage to twist her body around till her flank was aimed at him, to which he sent a solid slap across it to further humiliate the female, “You know you can’t take me on the way you are. You’re tied up, out of shape, and have a belly the size of a watermelon.” The minotaur gave a short laugh at the mare’s helplessness, “But even if none of that were true, then I’d still be able to beat you into submission.”
The mare attempted to attack some more, but as she was the only thing her kicks did was make her knees buckle from both her weight and exhaustion. It was like watching a cornered animal thrash about in a last ditch attempt to escape certain death, except the animal was far too deep to actually accomplish anything.
“Just don’t know when to quit, huh.” the minotaur said, a smirk growing over his face, “Fine, then I’ll give you the chance you want so badly.”
The minotaur slipped a finger into the space between the mare’s head and the strap of her muzzle, and with a solid yank, tore the leather strap like it was made of cheap paper. No longer bound to the mare’s head, the gag slipped off and fell to the floor, just in time to let the guardmare let out a yell when her arm binders were similarly ripped from her body. Having such heavy bonds removed from a person violently was not easy for the one who wore them, shown by several marks on the mare’s body where the straps were strained till they snapped. Regardless, the mare was now free of all but the collar around her throat, and with her arms and mouth liberated, the minotaur released her completely from his grasp.
The earth mare immediately faced the minotaur, but noticed he was keeping his distance. Seeing that, she took a moment to rub the parts of her body that became sore through his abusive hand. “What is this?” she asked bluntly, knowing her sadistic master would never release her bonds unless he had something worse planned.
“An opportunity,” the minotaur said aloud, “I’m gonna give you one chance to do whatever you think you can to me in a fair fight.”
“A fair fight?” the guardmare said with a heavy scoff. The notion was laughable, seeing that she was physically worn and currently in a state of pregnancy. Even at peak physical condition, a one on one fight with a minotaur would be a challenging fight, but the earth mare had zero chance to win with her body working against her at every turn.
The minotaur picked up on her indignation at his offer, a reaction he had expected, “It’s about as fair a fight as you’ll ever get against me. A pony would never be able to beat any minotaur in physical combat, let alone one as fit as me.” In a mocking gesture, the minotaur took a moment to flex his bovine muscles, which were admittedly impressive, even among his own kind. “But here’s the thing, if you don’t fight me right now, I won’t ever let you have another chance. I’ll keep you tied up so tightly that twitching a finger would be a privilege. If you want to accept that fate, and avoid the pain that comes with defying me, fine. Just bow your head in submission and give up any notion that you’ll ever be anything more than my slave.”
The mare’s eyes shifted away from the minotaur, conflicted with her current situation. Giving into the will of anyone in the Society was dangerous, as it created an opening for them to manipulate you again further down the road. Even without the head mistress’ magic, an admittance of defeat would leave cracks that could be torn wide open with time.
“Are you really willing to put the health of your child at risk?” the earth mare said, trying to deflect the choice in the matter to the minotaur.
“Don’t you worry about that,” the minotaur replied, “I am very experienced in dealing with this situation. I can punish you without harming the baby in your belly. Besides, what do you care if I hurt the child in your womb? Are you saying that you want to give birth to my babies now?”
The mare clenched her eyes and gritted her teeth. The minotaur was forcing her hand, and was using her own question against her. Despite the fact that she never wanted to be impregnated by the rapist in front of her, the idea of putting it in danger for the sake of her honor was a moral dilemma she really didn’t want to face. As much as she didn’t want the child, it was not its fault that it was conceived.
“Fine…” the mare said, getting onto her knees and bending over to bow her head to the floor, “You win. I’m not gonna fight you like this. So I surrender to whatever you have planned for me.”
“Hmph,” the minotaur walked over to the mare, stood over her for a moment, then lifted a leg up.
The mare looked up at him, and the position he stood in made it clear he was about to stomp down on her face as punishment for her morals, which he probably contrived in his mind as her being weak. A moment later, the minotaur slammed down his foot as expected, but hit the ground aside the guard mare’s head, dust from the floor being the only thing that connected with her in the process.
“If you are truly submitting to me, then show me.” the minotaur said, “Kiss my hoof, and embrace a life of servitude.”
The guard looked away momentarily, but then quickly turned to face the hoof of the male over her. She gave it the requested kiss, holding it for a few moments as she felt was expected. The minotaur watched in with a smirk over her face, one that faded over the course of a few seconds. It was odd for Path, who was still watching the scene below intently, to see confusion go over the face of the one who had gotten everything he wanted. What exactly had gone so wrong to make him give that expression.
“Why isn’t anything happening?” The minotaur asked aloud, seemingly to no one.
Seconds later, the recipient of the question responded, “I’m sorry Master Jupiter. Miss Midnight might have finally displayed her Element, but she seems to be far from ready for the ritual.”
Pathfinder knew that voice, and didn’t even need to see the crystal mare to realize she had been here watching the display as well, perhaps waiting for the perfect moment to employ her magic. Having exposed herself though, Schorl wasted no time stepping out from a blind spot into the open area below, along with her minotaur bodyguard, to make her presence apparent to everyone. She had probably been visible to the guardmare the whole time, which was more than likely why she was reluctant to do anything that would give the crystal unicorn a chance to place more enchantments on her.
“What do you mean she’s not ready for the ritual?!” The minotaur now identified as Jupiter say, trying to stay calm, but clearly frustrated.
“As I explained prior,” Schorl said, “For the Crystal Heart Ritual to succeed, the target must be at a state where they willfully submit to another. While that submission can be forced, it must still be legitimate. As it stands, Miss Midnight is simply doing what she must to avoid your wrath.”
Jupiter looked down at the guardmare in simmering rage, who in return looked bewildered about what was going on. Pathfinder was puzzled as well, as he watched from above. He had never heard of any ‘ritual’, and had no idea what such a thing would entail.
“So long as Miss Midnight has the will to resist you, even mentally, I can never extract a crystal heart from her.” Schorl went on to tell Jupiter.
The minotaur didn’t appreciate that, and a snarl formed on his face. “Know you listen here,” he said to the crystal unicorn, “I paid to have this bitch bent to my will. I want her crystal heart, and you’re going to rip it from her body right now!”
Jupiter reached for the crystal mare, planning on intimidating the mare into doing what he demanded, even if she said it wasn’t possible, but before he could lay a finger on her the other minotaur on the ground floor with them intervened. Always close to Schorl’s side, Sartek was able to grab Jupiter by the wrist, and pull it away from the mare. “You are stepping out of line,” he said, glaring down at the enraged slaver bull.
Jupiter, not satisfied with Sartek’s intrusion, immediately went to throw a punch at the other minotaur, but the moment he made a move Sartek reacted with a solid headbutt to the other bull’s skull. The combined surprise and force of the impact knocked the lesser minotaur on his ass, the point of contact slowly forming a large, bruised lump on his forehead.
With Jupiter being thoroughly reminded of his place in the ranks of the Society, Schorl stepped up to the humbled bull barbarian, “While I understand your disappointment, I fear there is little more the Society can do to satisfy your needs, Master Jupiter. While we could keep training your slave, and perhaps eventually break her, I do not believe you have the patience for that process, nor do we have the patience for your behavior.”
“What?” Jupiter replied, rubbing his aching skull as he tried to piece together what the crystal pony was saying.
“She said that you’ve caused enough trouble here with the way you treat the slaves,” Sartek said, translating for the mare, “While we’ve been working on turning your mare into an obedient slave, you are actively destroying any progress by making her despise you. Not only that, but you treat public use slaves with similar disdain, always abusing them to the limits of what the rules here allow. Of all the minotaur here, you are by far the most harmful, and the damage you cause is taking its toll on our operations. So for the sake of our plans, we are ending our services to you, ending your service towards us, and sending you back to Minopolis immediately.”
Jupiter growed at the other minotaur, but couldn’t think straight enough to attempt to fight Sartek and expect to win. “You want me to leave? Fine! I was being restricted here anyways. Never had a problem breaking bitches like this mare by myself.”
“Then you are more than welcome to prove your abilities on your own,” Schorl said, going over to the guardmare to slip a leash to her collar. Once attached, she offered the looped end of the leash to the downed minotaur. “It is your right as her owner, afterall.”
Jupiter begrudgingly took the leash from Schorl, and got to his hooves, “Believe me,” he said to Midnight, who was still looking incredibly confused about the who situation, “When I’m done with you, you’ll wish this crystal bitch trained you instead of me.”
“That’s enough,” Sartek said, clearly done with this particular minotaur’s antics, “Let’s go get you prepped for travel, and we’ll have you and your slave in Minopolis by the morning.”
“Again, I am very sorry that we couldn’t provide the service you desired, Master Jupiter.” Schorl said, as apologetically as she could manage to express, “We will even refund a portion of your money, as compensation for our failure. Sartek, if you would, please make those arrangements while I attend to another matter.”
“What kind of matter?” the minotaur asked.
“I fear in not completing the ritual, I failed not only Master Jupiter, but Master Rubric as well.” Schorl explained to her bodyguard, “As he wished to show off my ritual to one of the slaves in preparation for his own ritual. Now I’m going to have to make up for that as well.”
Sartek let out an exasperated huff, but then gestured to Jupiter towards the exit, “We should be ready in two hours.” With that said, Sartek guided both Jupiter and Midnight out of the holding area.
“I’m actually surprised he accepted that,” Schorl said after watching the three leave, aiming her gaze up to Rubric and Pathfinder, “Sartek is very protective of me. My duties are more important than his concerns though, and I can’t waste time on a failed experiment when I’ve got a more reasonable task ahead of me.”
“So what is your plan from here?” Rubric asked back.
Pathfinder, still confused over what happened, shifted his eyes back and forth between the two slavers. Apparently, something was supposed to happen, but didn’t, and now the parties that were in control were trying to figure out what they should do next. This lack of complete control begged to be addressed by the person who, up until this point, had his every action carefully planned out for him.
“What are you two talking about?” It wasn’t the most elegant response to the situation, but Path felt he did deserve some answers after being dragged here for nothing.
To his surprise, he managed to get a response to his question from Schorl, “You have my sincere apologies, Mr. Finder. It was my intent, at Rubric’s request, to display one of my abilities for you. As you are already aware, my magic focuses mostly on the will of a creature, allowing me to manipulate anyone so long as they give me some form of way in.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen that first hand,” Path replied.
“Yes, but you haven’t seen the extent of my power,” said Schorl, “Which is the ability to completely bend the will of one creature to another. We had hoped that Jupiter would have been able to break Miss Midnight enough to his will to reveal this ability, as it has a specific, though not strict, method that must be followed to enact it.”
The more the crystal mare talked, the more Pathfinder grew confused over what she was saying. Luckily, there was someone there who could turn her dialog into something more crude, and thus simpler to understand.
“She can perform some kind of magic that removes your will in the form of an object,” Rubric said bluntly, “And whoever possesses that object will be able to control you.”
“What?!” Path yelled, the minotaur giving the most important details with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. To believe that the headmistress of the Society possessed such an ability, it was no wonder their operations were so affected.
“It’s not that simple though,” Schorl said, “For me to extract your will into a crystalized form. Most importantly, it requires an act of true submission. To put it simply, the relinquishing of one’s will to another.”
“And we were hoping Jupiter would have been able to display this because we wanted to prepare you for that ritual.” Rubric added.
“It was always Jupiter’s goal to have Miss Midnight bent completely to his will, but I fear his methods and Miss Midnight’s ability to resist outright abuse and bullying had made that impossible now. Even one such as him cannot find a lost opportunity.”
Path felt a spike of anxiety pass over him, coming to understand what this was all about. “You want me to hand over my will? Like I would ever do that!” He yelled, angry that he was being proposed with such a fate, but worried that like many other things in this Celestia forgotten place, he might not have a choice in the matter.
However, it appeared that he might actually have an option, as Rubric went on to say. “That is your decision, but one that will cost you your daughter.”
“Are you blackmailing me?!” Path said.
“Well, yes.” Schorl said, “But not without reason. Despite the few times we have been able to adapt your thoughts and mannerism to our will, you remain a fairly independent pony, Mr. Finder. As you might assume, that is counterproductive to our goals. While I can keep you here and eventually train that out of you, Master Rubric will be departing for his homeland soon, taking your daughter with him.”
Path nodded at this, the minotaur telling him that earlier.
“He wishes to purchase you as well, in order to help Miss Scylla adapt easier to her new environment, but he doesn’t wish to deal with escape attempts or you turning his slave against him, mostly because he’d hate to have to punish the girl unnecessarily.”
“It is for that reason that handing over your will is required,” Rubric finished, “That is, if you want to ensure her safety after she has made her new home in Minopolis. So while I’ll leave the decision up to you, as the girl’s father, your options are limited. Either submit to me completely, in a way that you can never defy my will, or be left here and never see your daughter ever again.”
Path was in shock. Neither of these options were acceptable, yet there was nothing he could do to avoid these outcomes. If he refused, at best he could one day escape, make his way to Minopolis, wherever that was, and one day rescue Scylla from her enslavement. Who knew how long that could take, or the suffering and mental corruption Scylla could suffer in that time though. On the other hand, he could go with Scylla, but have no means to ever free them both from Rubric. Even then, Scylla could progressively be made to be the minotaur’s willing sex slave, and all he’d be able to do is watch from the sidelines.
It was a horrible choice, one with only bad outcomes, but when faced with the possibility of never seeing the mare he raised ever again, what was a father to do?
Equestria Trainers' Society: Fish Out of Water
Not long after being given the basic explanation of what Schorl and Rubric had planned for him, Pathfinder was relocated to another room within the facility. This room was one that he had never entered prior to this moment, and while the room was not as spectacular as many others The Society had to offer, he could tell there was a great deal of importance to it.
The room itself was built to be perfectly circular, with lights on the ceiling that went along the wall to trace it all the way around. In the center of the round room was an equally round table, the surface of which went up to Path’s pectorals as he sat in one of the many chairs it had. Its size made the pegasus feel small when compared to the minotaur sitting directly across from him, to whom the table only came up to his stomach while seated.
The two were not the only ones in the room, as the crystal unicorn had followed along to fulfill her purpose in what was about to come, along with three others who had been brought along to fulfill some role in the events to come, being Schorl’s strangely scaled secretary pony, Li Min, the Society’s own staff slave doctor, Xenia, and another random doe who was acting as Xenia’s aid, as the two cervids prepped several tools of their medical trade.
Path’s eyes shifted frequently between the two deer, the crystal mare and her secretary, and the bull who wanted to claim the pegasus’ will as his to command. It had been several minutes since they arrived, with the two more villainous creatures saying nary a word, only opening their mouths to silence Path every time he would try to initiate conversation, leaving only the sounds of the deer working as an ambiance. It was a clear intimidation tactic, but Path was at a point where such actions were not needed. With his daughter’s future in jeopardy, his compliance was assured. Schorl, sensing the decline of Pathfinder’s will to resist, picked up a small file that had been laying on the table, and spoke.
“To answer your most probable question first,” she began, “This is one of the Society’s conference rooms. It is places like this where our members get together and make deals as equals, over matters of both business and pleasure.”
With that said, Schorl opened up the file in her hands, rooting through it in search of something.
“This here is your file, which has held within it all the information relevant to you. Things such as your special talent, your likes and dislikes, how you’ve been modified to serve a potential owner, and rankings for your skills in things said owner might want you to do. It also has… this.”
Schorl pulled out a single piece of paper and gestured to Li Min to come to her. The scaled mare did what she was non-verbally instructed, retrieving the paper to immediately deliver it to Pathfinder on the other side of the table. When offered the sheet, Path took it and looked it over, seeing a bunch of legal jargon that he couldn’t possibly understand.
“Do you recognize that document?” Schorl asked with a devious grin across her face.
“I do,” Path said, seeing his name signed at the bottom in his handwriting, and giving a slight glance to the mare of understanding to the mare standing aside him, who had warned him this moment would come, “It’s the contract your secretary had me sign when I first got here. The one that said that I was signing my and Scylla’s freedom away.”
“That’s correct,” Schorl said, “It was amazing that you actually signed that, but I suppose you felt you had no other choice at the time. Anyways, feel free to tear that up now, if you wish.”
Path gave Schorl a curious look, “Why?”
“Because that contract is basically worthless,” Schorl said, as if she was explaining something Pathfinder didn’t already know, “Little more than a test to see if I could get you to put your name down on some silly slip of paper.”
Seeing that Schorl had no reason to trick him at this point, Path ripped the contract in half with some small sense of satisfaction.
“Great, now that we can consider that bit of trash to be ‘null and void’, we can move onto what we are really here for,” Schorl snapped her fingers, and Mi Jin made her way back to her. The mare pulled out what looked like a stack of papers from Path’s file, and handed it to her secretary, who then returned once more to Path to hand it over to the pegasus.
With the papers in hand, Pathfinder could see they were bound together with metal rings to form a booklet. Filling through the pages, he could see it was more legal nonsense, talking about surrendering of will, ‘master’s rights’, duties of enslavement, removal of masculinity, and many other things that referenced his obligations and intended role as Rubric’s slave, from what he was able to glean at from the sea of words.
As he continued going through the pages, becoming more and more amazed at the sheer number of sheets full of words the book contained, Schorl spoke up again. “We will now begin the ‘Crystal Heart Ritual’.”
Path paused his flipping through the pages, his attention fully on the crystal mare. This was the moment that would probably change the rest of his life for the worse, and he wanted to know exactly what this would entail.
“As discussed before, the ritual requires you to submit your will to another, by accepting that they have power over you. This requires an act of submission from you, done willingly, even if under duress. The act doesn’t have to be specific, and I even prefer that each pony’s ritual be something unique and significant to the pony in question. In this case, I’m going to have you sign yourself away again, but this time literally.”
“Tell me,” Path said, as if to act upon his will one last time before it was removed, “If I give up my will, will I even be myself anymore?”
Schorl gave a light exhale from her throat, as if she found the stallion’s words humorous, but had enough respect for his position to stifle her laughter. “I suppose that is a valid question for anypony in your position. When I say that we will be taking your will, it is not like we will be taking your personality along with it. You will still have your sense of agency, and your morality. At best, this will give Rubric the ability to directly control your actions without resistance, should he feel the need arise. It can force you to feel a certain way, but from what I’ve seen, making somepony feel emotions they normally wouldn’t lead to them being internally conflicted, as they know when they should be feeling certain emotions or not. Really, its best use is to limit what you can do, while also having you do things you normally wouldn’t without having to deal with protest.”
“And with it, I will make sure you don’t do anything to try and convince my slave to betray me or try to escape her fate,” Rubric stated, finally speaking up, “You can have all objections against my actions that you want, but you will never act on them or vocalize your objections aloud. You will serve me as a slave, and watch as I use your daughter to birth my children.”
Rubric painted a very dismal picture of what was to become of the pegasus, but Pathfinder did find some comfort in knowing he would still be himself once this was over, still able to think as he pleased, even if he would have to keep those thoughts to himself. In some way, that gave him hope, that someday he might find some workaround for what was about to be done to him.
“With that out of the way,” Schorl said, as she slid a pen across the table to Pathfinder, “It is time we begin. In order for us to complete the ritual, you need to go through that entire book, and sign on every blank line that you find. There are roughly fifty-seven in total, which is rather small for a document meant to have sign over everything that is you , but we tried to make things as concise as possible. As you might expect, this is in no way a ‘legally binding’ document, but it does help to have some level of formality.”
Path pointed his eyes to the booklet, taking the pen in hand. There was an odd sense of determination in him, as he started to sign on every blank line he saw from front to back, as while he was giving up his very will, he was leaving open some opportunities for his future. It started with a line that said ‘I, Pathfinder, being of sound mind and body, surrender the entirety of my will to my master, Rubric ’, with Rubric’s name signed in large, bold letters on a dotted line. Seemed like the minotaur had to go through the process too, which was probably something Schorl had come up with to make the event more personal. Path couldn’t help but briefly smirk, believing that such a task would have been bothersome to a creature like him.
“Keep going,” Schorl said, noticing Path pause, “And don’t do anything cute like skip a blank space. Your compliance and the success of the ritual is what determines if you get to leave with your daughter.”
Path’s smirk faded, and he got back to work, spying Schorl’s horn starting to glow. She had begun casting her spell, the one that would seal his fate. Still, Path pressed on, worried, but unhindered. He came across the next space and signed, the section stating ‘By signing this, Pathfinder gives ownership of his body and mind to Rubric , to shape as he sees fit”. There was no smirk to be had this time, as Path could feel the crystal mare doing her work, using her magic to start pulling something out of him, if ever so gradually.
A few more pages flipped, and Path found the next line, which was a portion stating that he agreed to any kind of restrictive device or article of bondage gear being used on him. The pegasus signed the line in agony, as each letter felt like another centimeter of give on whatever Schorl was tugging at with her horn, presumably his very sense of will. From that point on he chose to not even read the lines, flipping through the pages with a pause between each turn to make sure that he wasn’t missing anything.
Of course, his speed did nothing to stop the feeling welling up inside his body, as the more he wrote down his name, the more it felt like that part of him being pulled at was jiggling loose. Eventually, even writing down the first letter of his name was turning into an unbearable act of attrition. Every part of him was rejecting the process, and some part of him was even beginning to think that even for Scylla’s sake, this wasn’t worth it.
“How far along is he, Li Min?” Schorl asked, unable to see Path’s progress from across the table.
The dragonish pony looked over Path’s shoulder, “He is at the point where he agrees to allow Master Rubric to insert any and all objects he desires into his rear.”
“You all are sick…” Path said in misery, his mouth feeling dry, and a painful pit forming in his chest, “Do you know how much this hurts?”
“To be fair,” said Schorl, “We usually pull out a creature’s will in one single, momentary instance of pure anguish, but Master Rubric wanted you to show your dedication to your daughter.”
Rubric nodded, “I want to see how much you are willing to endure for her, and if you’re even willing to go through with giving yourself to me. If I allowed this to be a simple moment, then it would prove nothing about your resolve.”
“You... dick...” Path said, struggling to speak words as much as he was writing them down, placing another signature in a section about giving up all rights to breed without permission from his master.
Rubric huffed, but said nothing to rebut Path’s name calling. The minotaur only sat and watched with his arms crossed, as the pegasus was forced to continue signing space after space in the contract. As Pathfinder got to a section waiving all rights to privacy, his vision started to blur. Things were going beyond physical pain now, and the pegasus could swear that cracks were beginning to form on his very soul. That wasn’t too far from the truth, seeing that Schorl’s magic was breaking off a piece of him, but while he was not a stallion of great fortitude, his desire for Scylla’s safety granted him the strength to get through to the final page.
“He is almost finished, Lady Tourmaline,” Li Min announced, watching over his progress, “He just needs to finalize the contract.”
“Well, Mr. Finder,” Schorl said, her horn at full glow, “This is your last chance to back out. The moment you put your name down on that last line, your will belongs to master Rubric.”
“Yes,” Rubric said, speaking sternly, as to make sure that Pathfinder knew what was about to happen, “This is your last opportunity to defy me, and remain a proud stallion. Once you put your name down, that will be it. You will lose everything you ever held dear to me.”
“Are you trying to get him to back out?” Schorl said, bemused, “Don’t tell me that you’ve gained some form of sympathy for him.”
Path gritted his teeth so strongly he thought that he’d crack a molar. The minotaur and the crystal pony were taunting him. Simple reverse psychology, or at least that’s how it seemed, but Pathfinder could see the real game behind it all. It didn’t matter if Path completed the ritual or not, either result would be a defeat for him. Failing to finish, after all he endured, would be a blow so devastating that he could never recover, and possessing his will wouldn’t matter because it would be completely crushed from the loss of a cherished loved one.
He had to proceed, but it was becoming an issue that he might not even be able to finish, even if he wanted to. Every part of him was screaming at him to stop, and doing everything it could to prevent him from finishing. It was pure irony that in order to surrender his will, Pathfinder had to use as much of it as he could muster just to do something as simple as put his name down on a blank space.
But with a final push, the pegasus forced his hand to sign, quickly jotting it down through muscle memory, figuring the only way to complete his task was with haste and without thought. With that final act, the piece that Path had felt being pulled at inside him finally snapped off, and in the duration of a second Path felt more pain than he ever thought possible, followed by immediate relief as everything he felt subsided. The shift was a bit too much to take in all at once, and he felt his body give up, collapsing forward, the pen in his hand falling out of his now weak grasp and onto the floor.
His instincts told him to pass out, an understandable response after all he had gone through, but the pegasus managed to keep his eyes open long enough for some of the focus to return in his ever dimming vision. The last thing he saw was a small, heart-shaped crystal floating across the conference table, Schorl levitating it to her with her magic. That was it, the now physical embodiment of his will, floating away from him as if in metaphor for what had happened to him. Schorl had the crystal come to her, but never touched it once, only observing it for a moment before presenting it to Rubric, who took possession of the item at the first opportunity.
With the crystal now in hand, he looked to his other new possession, the pony the crystal was forged from. He displayed no hint of satisfaction, holding his stern expression as he watched Pathfinder struggle to stay conscious. Then, the bull uttered a single word, “Sleep”.
With the word spoken, Path’s entire being recognized it as a direct command, and one that had to be obeyed. His eyes grew so heavy that what should have been a blink turned to complete darkness, and all thoughts of his current situation faded into the void. There was no resistance, no means to attempt to stave off the order, as the bull now had full control over the pegasus, to the point that his every command was something Path had to fulfill at all cost.
As Pathfinder slumbered, his world was little more than darkness. For some reason, he could not form any dreams in this forced sleep, this state he was now in not truly being rest, but a subduing of his senses so that he could simulate accurately enough to obey the command he was given.
Thus, Path could still sense the world around him, just in a greatly muted definition. He felt hands running all across his body, both the large and powerful hands of his minotaur master, and the smaller hands of either the deer or those of the crystal mare, the latter he could not really discern. Then there were the words, none of which he could truly make out, but still seemed to echo in the recesses of his mind. Deep down he could tell those who had been in the room were talking to one another, most likely about him, but every so often it felt more like the words were meant for him, as when he heard Rubric say something, he could make out those phases just a little more clearly.
They were all instructions, of one form or another, though the moment they were said, Pathfinder found it impossible for him to recall what he had been told, yet somehow at the same time he was aware that those words would never leave him. It was the strangest sensation, like one part of him was desperate to ignore what was being said completely, while another part of him was listening with the utmost attention. With each new sentence that he heard, a heavy weight was placed upon the stallion, making his normally light pegasus body feel like it was chained down with rocks, the burden becoming greater and more restrictive by the minute. He believed that his body was being bound for whatever the minotaur had planned next for him, but there was no need for any physical binds from this point on, not when his very soul was now in eternal bondage.
“Wake up.” he heard, in Rubric’s gruff, bovine voice.
Path’s eyes shot open, the endless darkness he was surrounded in vanishing in a flash as his rest brought to an abrupt end. He felt groggy, like he hadn’t truly rested at all, but he couldn’t muster up the will to just roll over in his bed and go back to sleep.
That’s when his surroundings hit him. He was indeed in a bed, lying comfortably on a mattress, set atop its beddings. After establishing that, Path looked around and saw he was in a room, much like the one he had spent the night prior in with the three other stallions. It very well could have been that room, but it could have also been one of the many identical rooms that existed in the Society’s building. Honestly, where he was didn’t matter as much as where he wasn’t, and where he wasn’t was in the conference room he had passed out in. He had been moved, and if he had been moved without him knowing, then any number of other things could have happened in his sleep too.
This thought had the stallion checking himself to see if something had been done to him in his sleep, and his paranoia turned out to be entirely rational, as upon observation of his body he found that he had been dressed up in one of the maid outfits Society slaves would occasionally be dressed in to serve the members, which he had himself been forced to wear frequently.
“As you can see, Master Rubric,” spoke a voice from just beyond Pathfinder’s peripheral vision, it being that of the Society’s head mistress. She and Rubric had taken up seats in the corner of the room, the minotaur silently observing his newest possession as the crystal mare took in the completed form of one of her many projects with satisfaction, “Any command you give will work, so long as Mr. Finder can hear them. Even if he is asleep, your word is law to him.”
“Yes, yes, you already explained the terms of this enchantment,” Rubric said, “And if I didn’t believe you before I wouldn’t have spent all that time with you to get him ready.”
“Ready?” Path asked, rubbing his eyes while he tried to piece together what was going on, disorientated with the change of appearance and location.
“Why yes,” Schorl said, with a bit of glee popping up from her usually subdued mannerisms, “We have taken a bit of time out of our busy schedules to make sure that you are all set for your new life as a minotaur slave stallion.”
“You’ve been asleep for a long time,” Rubric added, being more direct than the mare, “Two days to be exact.”
Two days? Path thought to himself, as it didn’t feel like two days to him. Then again, the amount of time he was in the black void of his mind all seemed to blur together now that he was awake, as more and more of the events in his sleep seemed to slip away from his recollection.
“During that time, Schorl gave me a set of commands to give you, which I had to say in full, to get the results I wanted for you in the future.”
“Think of it as an express pace training,” Schorl said, “Now that Rubric controls your will, it’s much easier to give you the proper mental boundaries that a slave should have. All it took was a bit of programming, to make sure you never stray from your intended path.” Having heard aloud what she had said, the crystal mare chuckled, “Congratulations, you have finally found the path you’ve been seeking all this time.”
“That’s enough,” Rubric said, not appreciating Schorl’s mocking sense of humor, “If your services have come to an end, I would like to make use of my new servant in private.”
“Of course,” Schorl said, getting up from her seat, “I’ll just excuse myself then.”
The mare made her way to the door, and with a final sly glance to Pathfinder, left the room. It was now just Rubric and Path, which brought fear into Path’s heart, as the minotaur made his intentions clear. It seemed like whatever Rubric and Schorl had done to him, he still didn’t truly like the idea of having sex with other men, at least not ones as large as the bull.
With the crystal mare gone, Rubric took a moment to sit in contemplation of the stallion laying in the bed in front of him, wondering what he should do first. It was at this time, as Path looked back at the bovine with dread, that he noticed that Rubric was now wearing what looked to be a necklace, which was the only other thing he wore besides his leather crafted loincloth. Not long after that, he realized that the necklace was actually a simple chain around his neck, and hanging off one of its links was his crystal heart, placed within a heart shaped container made of glass and a gold casing. It dangled at the height of Rubric’s chest, between the massive male’s pectorals. The sight of it filled Path with a sense of longing, a sensation of wanting to be back together with the part of him that had been removed, but while he felt like he should reach out and touch it, something else demanded that he stay his hand.
Before long, the minotaur made his decision as to what his first move should be, and with that choice made, he spoke, “Before we begin, I want to make one thing perfectly clear between you and I. While I have some appreciation for what you have done for the sake of Scylla, I do not in the slightest respect you or the position you are in.” The bull spoke bluntly, wanting to convey his complete lack of sympathy as brutally as possible. “In my eyes, you are a failed male.”
“Yes master,” Pathfinder replied, lowering his head in shame.
It wasn’t the response that he thought he’d give, which should have been an indignant rebuttal to the idea that he had in anyway failed by sacrificing a piece of himself so he could watch over his child, but his reaction to Rubric was practically instinctive, while also being completely alien to how he should have reacted.
“And as a failed male, you no longer have the right to any of the privileges or pleasures that come with being male.” the bull said, standing up from his hooves. Going over to the bed, he took the pegasus by the arm, and dragged him off it and away from the comfort it provided.
Path did little to resist, something inside him telling him to keep deferring to Rubric’s wishes. All he could do was allow himself to be led, and once they reached the bull’s destination, Pathfinder found himself placed in front of a large dresser holding a vanity mirror. Being placed before the reflective surface, Path could finally see everything that had been done to him physically during his sleep.
What stood on the other side of the mirror was not a depiction of a stallion, but a demure pegasus maid mare. As he already knew, he had been put into a maid’s uniform, which by itself would have made him look female with his fairer physical aspects, but he had received more than a set of clothing. His hair had been styled into the form of a large braid that draped down over his shoulder, laying across his chest, and a delicate amount of makeup covered his face to make it appear more girlish. His slave collar, which was the next thing he noticed after his face, was no longer a standard leather collar, but a pink one made of latex, decorated with a brass leash loop in the shape of a heart.
He could also tell that his coat had been thoroughly cleaned in his sleep, and his nails had been given a manicure. Also, something had been done to make his eyelashes look longer, probably using mascara. All in all, Path looked incredible, and would catch the eye of many a pony, but he didn’t in the least resemble a stallion anymore.
As he looked at himself with both awe and resentment of his new appearance, a pair of large, bovine hands came down onto his shoulders, making him jump, and instinctively his wings opened up. This was another change to his body, as the avian appendages had been bound up tightly from the moment he was enslaved. Apparently those binds were not needed anymore, and Path could assume without testing that part of his programming was that he couldn’t use his wings to fly, at least not without being given prior permission. That was a minor concern though, as the real matter at hand was the minotaur behind him.
“Do you like what I’ve done with you?” Rubric asked, giving Path’s shoulders a firm rub, “Had I seen you like this sooner, I would have bought you up instantly under the assumption that you were a mare.”
“Tsk..” Path scoffed, trying to pull away, but finding it hard to put any real effort in his attempt.
“Resistant,” Rubric said, keeping his grip firm, “I do like it sometimes when my slaves don’t give in entirely to my will. Makes it all the more fun to take what I want from them.”
As he spoke, the bovine male slowly moved one hand up Path’s shoulder, placing his index finger on the stallion’s collar bone, while his thumb went behind the pony’s neck.
“If I wanted to, I could bend you over this dresser’s surface, and take you with zero effort.” Rubric stated, some level of pride in his declaration of rape.
“Then why don’t you?” Path retorted, wanting to come off as hostile and apprehensive, but only able to speak the words in a timid manner as he blushed uncontrollably.
The bovine smirked, and bent down a bit to put his head at the level of the pony. “Because I want you to want it.” Rubric said, moving his hand once again, this up Path’s throat, to grip him by the jaw.
With his mandible grasped, Path could do little to stop the bull as he sent a sloppy slurp across his face. He didn’t just have to endure the feeling of the cow tongue licking him on the cheek and up over his eye, but he had to watch the reflection of it in the vanity mirror as it happened. For the first time Path was aware, the bull’s expression changed from stoic to something more predatory, taking joy from the discomfort that he was inflicting on the femcolt he had at his mercy.
As Pathfinder took in how gross this all was, another sensation started to come to his senses. One that he hardly noticed at first, but after a few seconds it became clear what he was feeling, and when that happened, the stallion let out a loud yelp of pain.
“OW!” he yelled, his hands reactively grabbing for the front of his skirt. Something was poking at his privates, something pointy, going right into his flare.
“Looks like it’s started,” Rubric said, knowing much more about what was happening to Path than the pegasus did himself.
“W-What started?” Path questioned, his dick aching under his dress.
“Your punishment,” Rubric replied, “For getting aroused.” The bull could see that his stallion couldn’t understand what he meant, so we proceeded to say, “Go ahead and lift up your skirt, take a good look at your new jewelry.”
Pathfinder did as he was told, taking the front of his maid outfit in hand, lifting it slowly to reveal what was underneath. Rubric hadn’t seen fit to give the stallion any undergarments, panties or otherwise, so once the fabric was raised Pathfinder had an unobstructed view of his penis, and the cock cage that now encased it.
The metal device, made of what looked like polished silver, was one that Path had heard about from Anya in the past, but had never been used on him before, because Pathfinder wasn’t into denial or edging. Now there was one holding his erect cock so tightly, he wondered how anypony could enjoy such a thing. There was something a bit strange with this one though, besides the fact that its innards appeared to be lined with dull spikes that poked and aggravated his tender shaft, as the cage did nothing to actually prevent him from being fully erect, even if Pathfinder didn’t currently want to be.
“Curious about your accessory?” Rubric asked Path rhetorically, finding the stallion too distracted by his current predicament to reply, which the minotaur decided to make worse by reaching between the pegasus’ legs, and touching the bits of flesh not covered by the cage. “I’m sure by now you know what one of these is, but I’m sure you’ve never seen one quite like this.”
Path gave weak, helpless pants and groans in reply, his dick not cooperating with him at this moment. Despite the pain, and the touch of another male, it only seemed to swell even larger.
“You see, while I could make it so you could never become erect ever again, I am not threatened by your pathetic pony boner enough to do so.” Rubric said mockingly as he toyed with Path’s dick even more, “I actually encourage you to have one as often as possible, but I’ll never let you actually use it. That’s why I had the deer make this special cage for you. A cage that has a tip that can move outward if pushed against, and will retract with the deflation of your penis. I don’t exactly know how it works, but it will allow your dick all the room it needs, at the cost of frustration, discomfort, and an inability to get the release your tiny sex organ will desire.”
Pathfinder gulped, understanding that he was trapped in this device for as long as Rubric wished it, and that his body had been changed to be aroused by things it shouldn’t be. Maybe not his body, but his mind, as while he initially found Rubric’s touches gross, and still did to some degree, he was also finding it all to be sexy. It had to be part of his programming, but if that were the case, how deep did this change of perspective go?
“In case you’re worried, it’s not entirely impossible for you to get off now,” Rubric said, placing a finger at the very tip of the cock cage. Pathfinder could feel it as he did, and not just through the metal. He could feel a small bit of Rubic’s finger touching a small part of his dick. “You have a small hole here you can use to piss and cum, but you’ll find it very hard to do the latter through normal masturbation, with the cage making it so you can’t grip your dick.”
“Then… What do I do?” Path asked, foreseeing that he wouldn’t like the answer, but knowing that he would need a way to fix his arousal if he didn’t want to be in constant pain.
“What you do,” said Rubric, standing himself upright, “Is come to your master.”
The minotaur gave Path the gentlest push on the back that he could manage, which still sent the pegasus tumbling forward into the dresser, making him have to bend over the piece of furniture before he was able to catch himself. This was all Rubric needed, following up his shove with a lift of the back of his slave’s skirt, and a gripping of his rounded flank.
Pathfinder turned his head to look back at the minotaur, right before the sensation of a finger pressing into his anus traveled up his spine, causing the stallion to involuntarily let out gasp that slowly turned into a low moan. It was then that he discovered the last of his master’s gifts, a modified O-ring, with inflated size and immense sensitivity.
“I see this is working the way I requested,” Rubric said, toying with the swollen ring of flesh, pushing and prodding, but never penetrating.
Every movement, every bit of contact shot into Path’s brain, electrifying the synapses until he could hardly focus on anything else. The pretty pony maid reflected in the mirror in front of him was quickly reduced to a desperate, howling mess, failing at any attempt to resist the sensations overtaking his mind, and for a short period of time Path was so enveloped in the feelings flooding him that he forgot that the maid was actually him. It was only when Rubric removed himself from the entrance to his ass that some semblance of thought returned to Path, allowing him to recognize his own reflection panting from the intensity of light fingering.
“That will be a bit overwhelming for some time,” Rubric explained, “As you become more accustomed to the feeling. Until then, it will be agonizing, but suitable for our needs.”
“Our ne-EEP!” Path yelped, Rubric’s hand slapping down on his flank with an impact so strong that he could tell his rump was turning red under his brown fur.
“Silence,” the bull commanded, “And pay attention to what I’m about to tell you. Let nothing, even what you’re about to feel, distract you from my words.”
Path had wanted to say something, but he couldn’t make so much as a sound now that he had been told not to. He also found himself unable to do anything else but focus on the bull behind him, waiting eagerly for the minotaur to speak words that his ears now needed to hear. If the minotaur chose to remain quiet, as some cruel joke, Pathfinder would simply wait an eternity to hear him speak. Fortunately, that is not the game his master wished to play with his stallion.
“You should know, you are very lucky,” Rubric said, undoing the belt to his loincloth, letting the covering drop to the floor, before stepping out of its leg holes and kicking it over to the bed. The minotaur was now naked, his hand stroking his already semi-solid shaft into a full erection. “And not just because I am not as cruel as some of my brethren, but because we minotaur didn’t do what our leader wished to do with you lesser males.”
Bringing his shaft to full erection, Rubric paused his speech momentarily to use his cock for its intended purpose. With one hand, he spread one of Pathfinder’s ass cheeks aside, and with the other, he guided the head of his shaft to the center of the twitching flesh ring he had teased earlier.
With a steady push, the bull made his way inside Pathfinder’s ass, the entrance tight, but welcoming as it parted to make way for the enormous mass of beef. Path himself opened his mouth to scream as waves of pure, searing pain fell upon him, but he still couldn’t make a peep as his insides were casually invaded. The pegasus was in no real risk of bodily harm, the Society having trained him for this moment, and his modification allowing his intestines to accommodate the large mass now inside them, but that did little to prevent the agony he now had to endure.
What did help though, was when the minotaur started speaking again, having made it part way inside, but still maintaining his progress. “You see, there was a time when my kind believed there was no need to keep around the males of other races,” Rubric explained, his words forcefully pulling Path’s thoughts away from the pain. It was as if Path suddenly gained the immense will needed to ignore the majority of the tormenting pain he was going through, fixated only on the bull, as he had been instructed to do earlier. “After all, what need did we really fulfill by keeping you around? We minotaur are stronger than any of you weaker males, so using you for labor is often just for our own amusement, which can become dull fairly quick when the tasks we put you to can be done in seconds when we do it.”
Rubric pushed a little harder, now only a quarter of his length still remaining. Path felt every bit of it, but his focus still remained mostly on his master’s words than his actions.
“And we don’t need you around in order to breed more females,” Rubic continued, “Since we can make more females of your race just by breeding with them ourselves. When we claimed the Antlerteans’ kingdom as our own, our leader believed we should execute the stags, and had he gotten his way, that would have set the standard of what to do with the rest of the males of any species we conquered.”
Pathfinder’s iris shrunk to pinpoints, this reveal not being what he had expected at all. Rubric was openly telling him, as he was actively raping him, that had things been slightly different, he’d be dead instead of being a sex slave. With that being explained, it wasn’t hard to figure out what had changed to prevent that fate for him. Seeing as Path was incapable of speaking his revelation, Rubric carried on with his story.
“Fortunately for you, cooler heads prevailed against our leader’s idea, and instead of being put down, lesser males were to be used for personal pleasure.”
At the uttering of the word ‘pleasure’, Rubric gave a final thrust, and rooted himself to the hilt inside Pathfinder, his hips pressing firmly into the pieces of flesh and fat that formed the pegasus’ rump. Pathfinder gave a silent howl, spine arching as more sensations coursed through him, nearly breaking his compulsion to listen to the minotaur stuffing his backside, but falling short of that goal as though a barrier was making that feat an impossibility.
“Pleasure males are a very valued commodity in Minopolis,” Rubric said, rubbing Path on the flank, before sending his hand up the inside of the pegasus’ maid uniform, tracing his spine, “Unlike with females, they don’t have periods of pregnancy where they can’t be used. A minotaur could just surround himself with dozens of females and space them out, but that costs money to purchase them all, not to mention the upkeep of caring for them. Why go through all that, when you can have one or two failed males around to fulfill your needs when the women are fulfilling their duty?”
Rubric started moving his hips, being slow with his movements, holding back his strength in order to not break the limits of what even Path’s modified guts could withstand. Slow did not mean ‘soft’ though, and the stallion found the air being pushed out from his lungs with each thrust in, the space inside him not enough to occupy both the bull cock and the gaseous matter at the same time. It was hard for Path to take a breath like this, but this did not go unnoticed, and Rubric gave the simple order of ‘Breath’, causing Path to figure out quickly how to match his intake of air with Rubric pulling out, while having his exhales done manually by the minotaur with his each additional delve inside.
Rubric watched over Pathfinder until he felt the pony was not in any danger of suffocation, and then increased his pace slightly, before returning the topic on his mind, “The problem, of course, is getting males into their new roles. Making a male into a sex slave isn’t hard, as I’m sure you know first hand, no more difficult than making a female a breeder, but there is still the major problem of sex with a minotaur. We can’t help but hurt others when we fuck, as powerful and huge as we are. It goes more to just our size and strength though.”
Pathfinder winched as his ears hung on every word, the pain filling only being held at bay by them. Even with the minotaur increasing the power behind his thrusts incrementally, Path was able to ignore the brunt of it so long as Rubric kept talking, even though it had gotten to the point that each time the bull pushed his dick in, it nearly made Path’s face make contact with the mirror in front of him. Oddly though, with the pain stopped from rising high enough to pull Path’s attention away, it left room for another sensation to build, a distinct feeling of pleasure coming from the overly stimulated cavity of his rump. Just as with the pain, it was not allowed to distract the pegasus, and sat well below the level needed for that to happen, but it was something Path could notice and recognize as separate from the less enjoyable things he was feeling.
“It is believed by the minotaur that we have a curse placed on us.” Rubric said, coming to the point he had been trying to reach, “One that makes it so we always hurt those we have sex with. Doesn’t matter if they are something that should be able to take a hard fucking from a creature our size, it’s unavoidable. We don’t know where it comes from, but we do know that it becomes less intense for females who have given birth. Of course, males can’t give birth, so we had to come up with ways to make them want to fuck despite the pain, if only to make them content enough to not cause trouble. We experimented a lot with the Antlertean bucks, starting with drugs to block out the pain, and intense sexual training to turn them into nymphomaniacs and masochists who didn’t care about the pain. All of those methods don’t hold a candle to this, though.”
Keeping one hand on Path’s hips, Rubric grabbed the crystal heart hanging from his neck, lifting it up to get a better look at the stone.
“With this magic, it no longer matters if a slave likes sex or not. Simply find what breaks them down and they can be adjusted as you see fit. Even you, a male who started off straight, who hates me for raping and impregnating your daughter, can be crafted into a submissive slut who craves anal from superior males. All it takes is a simple command.”
Rubric let the crystal heart go, letting it to drop as far as the chain connected to it would allow, and retook hold of Path’s flank. He was ready to end this, his own pleasure having been rising throughout his speech. Soon he would reach his peak, and achieve his climax. When that came, he wanted to use it as an example, to make sure Pathfinder knew he had absolutely zero control.
“Now,” Rubric said, going faster and harder as he let loose the restraint he held on himself up till this point, “It is time to test the full extent of the power of this crystal, to make sure that the crystal mare’s promises were all true. You can stop focusing on my words now, and…” he said with a powerful thrust, one that sent Path’s face right into his reflection, “Focus on…” He said, going even stronger than before, sending his dick as deeply into the stallion as possible, as his semen burst from his cock to flood the tunnel of flesh it was within, “Cumming!”.
The command was given with a final thrust inside the smaller male, and immediately Rubric’s words no longer could act as a barrier for Path to ignore what his body was being put through. All at once a surge of sensations filled Pathfinder’s awareness, making his world a sudden mess of agonizing pain and pleasure. All he knew was the sensations, and that he didn’t find them the least bit pleasant. Yet, he was given a command by the one who held his heart, and he could not deny it. So as instructed, all of his focus went into achieving an orgasm, and with all the stimulation he was receiving, all his mind and body had to do was reroute what he was feeling into that biological function.
It was like his body was doing things automatically, redistributing the pain within him over his body, save for the spots that mattered for the task given, while sending all sources of pleasure directly into his cock and balls. It was overwhelming and instant, making the pegasus reach the state of climax nearly as soon as Rubric told him to, spurting globs of white cum onto the side of the dresser he was currently bent over. It wasn’t a single shot, but several large strands of it that rocketed out every time his penis decided to make a spasm, the smaller pony dick unable to do a constant release like the large bull shaft inside him, which was still flowing hot sperm into the stallion, till his intestines were rendered completely full, and streams of the white fluid managed to seep out of his asshole.
The two males joined in their simultaneous orgasm for over a minute, Path cumming as much as he could until his balls went dry, and Rubric dumping a fairly impressive load inside his maid stallion, even by minotaur standards. In the end, Pathfinder was completely depleted, and as his climax collapsed, so did the pegasus himself. He was left gasping for air, barely reacting as Rubric removed himself from the asshole he had just devastated.
“That was good for a first time,” Rubric said, not showing any signs of fatigue, “And hopefully with more training it will become easier for you. This kind of service will be a good remainder of the rest of your life though, so you had better get used to it.”
Rubric looked at his new slave, satisfied with his handiwork. It wasn’t the first male he had ever had the pleasure to thoroughly reem into submission, but he did always take great enjoyment in putting a lesser male in his place. He didn’t even consider himself gay, but there was something about asserting dominance over another male, showing them who was better through sexual conquest, that pleased him even more than fucking and impregnating females. It was probably that creating offspring was considered the duty of every minotaur that made it less enticing to Rubric, or the idea that females were fairly easy to acquire for a minotaur slaver, such as himself, but males were just more fun for him to bring into submission. He would certainly have more fun with Path in the future, but he would have to make sure not to have too much fun with him in front of Scylla.
“Then again…” Rubric said, second guessing that thought, “Maybe I could...” The bull started thinking out improper thoughts in his head, plotting out a course for the future of his two new slaves, while giving Path some much needed time to recover from the ass pounding he just received.
It was a fairly simple idea, and all that he really needed to do was make sure Scylla could be coaxed into it. Looking over to the defeated stallion with cum spilling out his backside, and then to the crystal heart at his chest, Rubric thought that he could make it happen, and it was at least worth a shot.
Later that day, Scylla found herself being led through the halls of The Society by a minotaur escort, one that wasn’t her master. This was unusual, but she still found the circumstances around her retrieval strange. She had been summoned by her master, and was picked up in the middle of one of her training courses. While Rubric had been getting more involved in her life lately, he preferred to stick to scheduled encounters, and hardly did anything on a whim. The spontaneity of her summons was what worried the kelpie, as she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wrong had happened, and in some way she was the cause of it.
She found herself being brought to one of the areas where members took slaves to use them, one with bedrooms instead of bondage dungeons. That made her feel a little better, making her think that she wasn’t about to be punished for something, but that still left her wondering what this was about. Only her master could explain that though, but she knew she’d get her answer soon when she was stopped in front of a door to have her traveling bonds removed.
Once devoid of all chains and shackles, the minotaur that led her pointed to the door, indicating that she was supposed to enter of her own accord. She gave a nod of acceptance in return, and took hold of the door’s knob, twisting and opening the wooden divider.
“Master?” Scylla asked as she cracked open the door, wanting to make sure that Rubric was the one waiting for her, and not some other creature who she was being handed off to. Not that she would have had a choice had it not been him.
“Come in Scylla,” the bull said calmly, “I have some news for you.”
Hearing her master’s voice, Scylla slowly opened the door and entered, but found herself stopping mid step when something met her vision that shocked her in a way that she didn’t even think she still could be. Her master was in the room, sitting at the far wall from the one the door was at, relaxing with his legs spread out to take up as much space as they could before touching the arms of his seat, fully nude with his cock at full mast. This alone would not have surprised her, but Rubric had his hand currently resting on something. Something that was currently traveling up and down the outer part of the minotaur’s shaft, something running its tongue, and panting hot breaths, across her master’s cock skin in a state of heavy arousal. Something that happened to be her father, acting in a way Scylla never believed she would see him.
“I see you’re surprised,” Rubric said, guiding Pathfinder’s head as the pegasus licked every part of the bull’s rob that he could reach, “And I’m sure it’s your father’s behavior that’s the cause of that.”
“I… I-I just never thought I’d see him so…” Scylla’s eyes were locked in on her dad, dressed in a cute maid outfit, cum splattered across its fabric and his face and rump, kneeling before a gigantic bull, and licking his dick without hesitation. “Willing to give head to another guy.”
“I will say that he’s being more compliant than usual,” Rubric stated, agreeing with Scylla that this sight was not normal for the stallion, who on record was very revolted with other men, even when coaxed into to doing it, “But there is a reason he is obediently cleaning the cum and sweat off my dick.”
“Oh?” Scylla said, both curious and afraid. The first thought that came to mind was that her father had been hurt, tortured until he obeyed without hesitation, or that somehow he had been changed by Schorl’s magic.
“It’s hard to explain,” Rubric said, “But essentially your father and I have come to an agreement. One built on a mutual understanding that I am your master.”
Rubric’s vague words only worried Scylla further, and her concern could be seen on her face. As much as she was trying to adapt to the unavoidable life of a minotaur slave mare, she didn’t want her father to suffer because of her.
Rubric noticed his slave’s worry, and sighed, “I’m sorry. You know I’m not good with words. Perhaps it would be better if your father told you what is going on.”
Pathfinder removed his lips from the minotaur’s dick, and gave a slightly annoyed glare at the minotaur, before turning his head to his daughter. “Rubric has purchased me as a slave too.” he said, being honest with his daughter, “He felt that if I went with you to Minopolis, that it would make things easier for both of us. In order to go though, he had me agree that he would be in charge, and that I would serve him as a sex slave.”
Path gritted his teeth behind his lips. He wanted to tell Scylla more, warn her about the Crystal Heart Ritual, but Rubric had forbid him from talking about the matter, or explaining in any way that he was no longer the master of his own will. He didn’t have to lie, but he couldn’t speak on these matters at all, unable to form any words that would allude to the event that led to the enslavement of his will.
“You see, Scylla,” Rubric went on to say, “Some minotaur find taking on an already existing family of slaves as amusing, usurping the father and mother as head of the household, and doing with the lot as they please. This is like that, except that you and your father are the only ones in your family.”
“So…” Scylla said, thinking she understood what was going on, “This is another minotaur culture thing?”
“Yes,” Rubric replied, “From now on you can consider the three of us, and all the other slaves under me, as family, with me being the caregiver for all of you.”
“And… you’re gonna fuck my dad like you do me?” Scylla asked.
“Well he has to pull his weight around the house,” Rubric said, “And while he’ll be doing chores as well, the best way he can serve me is to provide me with release when you’re carrying one of my children.”
“That’s weird,” Scylla said, still able to tell that a father and a daughter sleeping with the same man was a taboo subject, “But… I suppose we don’t have much of a choice in the matter, do we?”
“You do not,” Rubric said, confirming Scylla’s assumption, “When it comes down to it, you’re both my slaves, and I can do with you as I please, which means that if I see fit, I can sell off your father to another slaver if I feel he will not perform his duties, or is preventing you from fulfilling your duties.”
Scylla didn’t like that Rubric was making threats, even after all the progress they had made in their relationship, but in the end the minotaur was only stating facts. He had all the power here, and that meant he had the power to make both her and Path’s lives much worse if he felt inclined. It left a bad taste in her mouth, but her best option in this matter was to do as she had planned before, and just treat this like another cultural difference between ponies and minotaur that she, as a minotaur breeding slave, had to abide by.
“Ok, I understand,” Scylla conceded to the minotaur, having no other choice, “But please don’t hurt my dad.”
Rubric chuckled, “I have no intentions of hurting you or him, so long as you both do as I command. I don’t think that will be a problem from Pathfinder, right?”
“Right…” Pathfinder responded, knowing that there would be no problems from him as long as Rubric held his crystal heart.
“Good, now that that is settled.” The minotaur tapped his thigh, beckoning Scylla to him, “Come join us, and help your father show appreciation for my generosity. He did cost me a lot of gold.”
“Yes master,” Scylla said, aware that this was not a request. She came over to the minotaur, and knelt down in front of him, on the opposite side of his dick from her father. Before Rubric could tell her to start, she took hold of his cock and placed her mouth on it, slurping his bullhood up and down, tasting the flavor of its use on her tongue.
Rubric smiled at his obedient kelpie, and then turned his head to his stallion. “Join her, so I can take in the pleasure of both my ponies.”
Given the command, Pathfinder gripped the bull cock just above his daughter’s hand, returning to the task of licking it. He didn’t just give the bare minimum effort either, and just like before, he found himself getting into the act far more than he should have. It was impossible to deny by this point that he found sex with the minotaur to turn him on immensely, and that he was easily losing himself in bringing sexual gratification to the dominant male. Not even Scylla’s presence stopped his building desires, causing the opposite effect as it should have as he felt the cock cage hidden under his uniform poke into him even harder.
Path knew it had to have been something the bull had done to him, he just didn’t know when or how. The bull did though, having given the stallion the instruction in his sleep, to find any sexual interaction between him and the minotaur to be at the height of titillation. With that rule in place, there was nothing Path could do but find Rubric’s body as sexy, to the point that he couldn’t help but feel hot under the collar at the mere sight of the bull’s cock, and having to give his all in any sex act he did with his master, unless told to do otherwise.
Scylla fell into the heat of the moment as well, compelled by her mental training to do her best to please her master. Her face traveled up Rubric’s dick, as did her hand as she tilted his cockhead to point towards her. Next thing the bull knew, he was pleasantly surprised to see the kelpie wrap her lips around the bulbous lump of sensitive flesh, pushing it to the back of her throat, while using the techniques taught to her at The Society. Scylla was shaping up to be a good oral slave, a useful trait for a female who would be knocked up frequently.
Pathfinder quickly took notice of Scylla’s behavior, and under the compulsion of Rubric’s command, he felt that he had to step up his game as well. Using his knees to lift his body up, he met with Scylla, taking the bull cock right out of her mouth so he could slip his own muzzle around it. The strong flavor of another male coated the inside of his mouth, and the scent was beginning to travel up his nose to create a perfume that dominated his senses. The pegasus found his wings expanding on his own, a clear indication that any notions he had with his heterosexuality no longer mattered. He was becoming a slut for his master’s dick, the eroticism overtaking all his senses, including his rationality of why he shouldn’t be enjoying this situation.
Scylla, now having the target of her attentions snatched from her, sent a few more swipes of her tongue across the skin poking out just beyond her father’s lips, lost too deep in her own horny thoughts to care if it crossed a line, and having spotted already that Path was in the same mindset. All of their thoughts at this moment were towards bringing the minotaur that owned them pleasure. Rubric might not even reciprocate the pleasure given, but that didn’t matter. The only thing of importance at this point was that the bull was happy, as his happiness would lead to their happiness. It was one of the strongest beliefs of The Society, that a slave could only find fulfillment, pleasure, and happiness in the gratification of their owner, and it seemed that with Scylla, that message had stuck.
The two ponies went at it for several minutes, treating the bull’s penis as the key to their own sexual bliss, despite it currently doing nothing to provide them with physical pleasure. Rubric, having acquired a great deal of self control over his career as a slaver, endured the touches of their tongues for some time, enjoying the sight of his two pieces of pony property even more than the sensations they were providing. Not that they were performing subpar, as they were giving their all to saturate each inch of his privates with their saliva, but to a dominant male like himself the sex itself took second place when compared to the thrill of bringing lesser creatures under your will.
“Time for your rewards,” Rubric said, standing up from his seat, “Sit up straight on your knees, and open your mouths.”
The ponies did as commanded, putting themselves right in front of the minotaur, side by side. With them in their proper place, Rubric took hold of his well lubricated shaft, and stroked himself right in front of the two. Pathfinder didn’t flinch from this, unable to do so even if he wanted to, but Scylla gave a little blush in response to seeing her owner masturbate right in her face. Rubric caught her small act of humiliation, and it pleased him to the point that he was sent over the edge, and he released the semen from his sack, right onto the faces of his sex slaves.
The warm, white sperm splashed out, hitting both ponies inside and outside their mouths. Path, again, took it all in stride, despite internally finding this all deeply degrading, but Scylla couldn’t help but react when getting hit with the force of the cum blast. Regardless, by the time Rubric was finished, they both had a good coating over their faces, leaving the two in a sloppy mess of bovine spunk that would never see its full potential as minotaur calves.
“Now what do you say?” Rubric said, proudly looking over his handiwork.
“Thank you, master.” replied Pathfinder, a programmed response he was supposed to make whenever his master was finished with him.
“Thank you, master,” Scylla said, mimicking her father, but then added, “I love you.”
Rubric’s eyes widened slightly with those three extra words, actually not expecting the kelpie to say such a thing out of the blue, “What was that?”
Scylla shrunk down a little into herself, “Was I not supposed to say that?”
Rubric could see the worry in his slave’s eyes that she might have made a mistake, and it was both heartening and a bit upsetting. He was glad to see that his slave had come so far to care that he might take offense to something she might say or do, but didn’t like that she believed that he could possibly be upset over her declaring her love for him.
“No,” he told her with enough sincerity that he hoped Scylla would never question that particular action ever again, “You did good, both of you, even if my stallion didn’t entirely enjoy doing it.”
Path rolled his eyes, but took this as some form of acknowledgement from the minotaur for his position. Either that, or just a reminder that Pathfinder was going to be doing this a lot, even if he didn’t like it.
“Now you two clean up.” Rubric commanded, “I think I feel like picking up my dragon, and taking us all to the spa area.”
That announcement got Scylla excited, as it meant another day of relaxing waters and tasty food. She got to her hooves and rushed off to the bathroom to wash the cum from her body. Pathfinder followed after, as he had to once given the order. Rubric watched the two vanish into the other room, but once they were out of sight, allowed his stern composure to slip.
“Love , huh?” he said under his breath.
It wasn’t unheard of for a slave to fall in love with their master, even ones belonging to minotaur, but most would turn to masochistic lust before ever falling in actual ‘love’ with one such as him. The bull pondered to himself if Scylla really meant it, or if she just felt the words were what he wanted to hear. It was an odd situation, one that he personally never dealt with prior, but it was Scylla who wanted to try forming some sort of normal romantic relationship, and maybe she actually meant it.
It gave the bull a lot to think about, as to whether he should just see where this would go on its own, or try to use it to further his own goals. Whatever the plan, if he was going to involve the head mistress of The Society again, he would have to decide fast, as he and his slaves would only spend only a few weeks more in this facility, and after that they would go to Minopolis to live out the rest of their lives together.
Equestria Trainers' Society: Fish Out of Water
“You had better get some sleep,” said Rubric as he tightened up the belts on a body harness his dragon slave was wearing, “Tomorrow is the big day, and I want you to be ready to head off to your new home once I come to get you.”
The minotaur wasn’t speaking to Mina, though his attention was mostly on the bonds he was currently putting on her, but to Scylla, who was sitting on her bed. The kelpie was currently in her private room, the place she had been allowed to rest in for a majority of her stay at the Society, but after tonight would never see again. It was finally time for her to head off to Minopolis, to begin a new life as a breeding slave, and fulfill her given purpose of birthing new minotaur into the world.
As Scylla sat in wait, having been told to do so by her master, he was prepping his other two slaves for travel. Both Mina and Path were tied up tight in a set of matching leather body harnesses that did little to cover their otherwise naked bodies, but did do a lot to restrain them, by having a set of rings attached to it to hook cuffs too. Neither of them put up much of a fight against the minotaur as he brought their arms behind their backs, locking their wrists to the metal loops positioned at their shoulder blades. Pathfinder in particular did whatever he needed to in order to make his binding go smoothly, doing whatever Rubric told him without complaint or hesitation.
The kelpie had noticed her father acting like this ever since that time they both sucked off their now joint master together, his defiance to the minotaur’s will nearly nonexistent. She knew that they had made some sort of deal with one another in private, but she would have never believed that her father would have ever adjusted to being the sex slave to a male, let alone how fast it seemed to have happened. Even with Schorl’s normal influence over the thoughts of the slaves of the Society, there was always some lingering acknowledgment that this wasn’t how they normally reacted to the thing they had a change of heart on. Many times she wanted to ask Path what had been done to him, but if he was going to be a sex slave either way, perhaps it was better that he was at least complacent, and better still if he could learn to enjoy it.
Rubric tested the harnesses on the other two slaves one last time, and when finding that all the straps had been properly buckled and locked, he stood up and clipped leashes to both Mina and Path’s collars.
“I’ll be taking these two to service me tonight, since you are in no condition to do so yourself.” Rubric said, commenting on Scylla’s pregnancy.
Her stomach was inflated enough that it was bigger than what a normal pony pregnancy should be, which Rubric said was a good sign. It meant there were good odds that she would give birth to a minotaur, which was the goal Rubric was trying to achieve. Scylla wondered why that was the case, since she knew that normally minotaur offspring were raised away from their birth parents, but she figured that it probably had something to do with social status. Perhaps minotaur were viewed in a higher standing if their breeding slaves birthed more minotaur babies than their own species.
“Can’t I at least come and watch?” Scylla asked, not really wanting to see her dad getting fucked by her master, but wanting less to stay in a room alone for the night.
Scylla couldn’t even remember a time when she slept alone while in these walls, always having her father, another slave, or some member of the Society to share a bed with. In a way, she had been conditioned to want to sleep in the company of others, making her dependent in a way the Society hadn’t intended.
Rubric turned his head to his kelpie, and gave her a commanding glare, “You will stay here and do as you’re told.” The minotaur’s words made Scylla flinch, as she didn’t anticipate a request like that to agitate him. Seeing her reaction though, the bovine lightened up a little. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate your eagerness, but I need you to obey me when I tell you something.”
Scylla detested that she wasn’t allowed to question the order, but this was something she had already been told. As Rubric’s slave, she would have to obey him, or risk punishment. That was the fate of all minotaur slaves, and while a pony like Midnight might be able to tolerate that kind of abuse for the limited freedom it gave, Scylla didn’t have the same fortitude as the guard pony.
“Okay… I’ll stay here tonight… I’m sorry.” she apologized, assuming that the minotaur was still upset with her insistence.
That belief was slightly alleviated when Rubric came over to her, and gave her a kiss on the forehead, saying to her, “It will just be one night. Just go to bed, close your eyes, and in the morning we’ll see each other again.”
Scylla gave a nod of acceptance, and with that Rubric headed out of the room with his other two slaves, leaving Scylla all by herself.
“I guess I’m not completely alone,” She said, placing a hand on her round stomach, “I still got you with me.”
The kelpie was trying her best to comfort herself, but she couldn’t help but feel alone. It wasn’t just that she couldn’t sleep with anyone that night, but also because all of the other Elements of Servitude had already departed to Minopolis. Midnight was the first to go, her master apparently becoming upset with the Society’s lack of progress with her. After that went Nightshade, whose master believed she was already as well trained as she was going to get. Charming Tale, Gabriel, and Blue Yonder each left with their masters shortly after, with Scylla not getting to give so much as a goodbye as they did, only being told of their departure after the fact. Scylla knew it would happen eventually, especially with their due dates closing in fast, but she did like having the others around. They might not have had that much contact with one another, but on some level the six of them were connected through this bad experience they all shared.
“They are all in Minopolis now,” Scylla said, hoping that she would someday see them again, but also having to remind herself that Minopolis was its own island continent, and had several cities on it, which each of the girls could have been taken to a different one than the one she would be living in.
With all these thoughts flowing through her head, Scylla found it very difficult to rest, the isolation serving to make her more aware that not only would she be leaving the Society, but Equestria as well, most likely to never return. Any relationships she had formed prior to today, outside of her father and possibly the other Elements, would come to an end. That led her to think of how her father was in the same situation, and that led to her thinking of their one shared relationship, that being Path’s on again, off again lover, and her de facto mother figure, Anya.
It had been so long since she saw the gryphon, and Scylla wondered if she still thought they were on vacation. By now, it must have been clear that they had been gone too long, and maybe somepony was trying to find them, but unless they suddenly appeared in the Society by tomorrow, they would never find them. Knowing Anya though, she’d end up tearing the countryside apart looking for her and Pathfinder. Too bad that they’d be someplace else, and all that searching would do her no good.
“Sorry I’m gonna cause you trouble,” Scylla said, apologizing to the gryphon.
Scylla closed her eyes, trying hard to go to sleep and push out all these negative thoughts. Even if she had come to terms with her enslavement, tomorrow was going to be a very sad day for her. She could only hope in time that she could find happiness in servitude to her master, and that maybe the new memories she would make could someday let her forget the ones she had made in Equestria. She didn’t truly want to get rid of them, but she knew holding on to something she could never go back to would only cause pain.
It took the kelpie some time, but eventually she managed to drift off to sleep. She had no special dream on her last night in Equestria, no visions of her past freedom, or nightmares of her future life. She just slept peacefully, perhaps too peacefully for a mare in her position, but once she became too exhausted from dwelling too much on all the things she was being forced to give up, there was little energy for her mind to create a dreamscape for her.
So when the kelpie mare finally heard the door to her room open, and the sound of a female voice say “It’s time to go,” she was able to awaken with little effort. This was it, the moment that she dreaded. She and her father had never moved houses before, so she assumed that this was going to feel like that, just a thousand times worse. Still, Scylla surrendered herself to the will of her minotaur master, as he would take her, even if she didn’t comply.
Slowly she rose out of bed, subconsciously drawing out the moment for as long as possible, but eventually she got to her hooves, meeting the creature who had entered her room, and discovering that it was the head mistress herself.
“Good morning sleepy head,” Schorl said, greeting the kelpie, “Are you ready for your big journey across the sea?”
Scylla didn’t reply. She didn’t know what to say, nor wanted to say anything. The night prior gave her lots of time to dwell on her time, and she wasn’t so far indoctrinated into the ways of the Society not to realize all the wrongs that had been done to her, and that it was all orchestrated by Schorl’s hand.
“Scylla,” Schorl said calmly, “I’m giving you permission to speak. Don’t make me pry the answer out of you.”
Schorl was clearly joking with the girl, but Scylla found little humor in her situation. As much as she had been trying to adapt, she couldn’t help but feel terrible at that moment. Any sane pony would feel the same, no matter how much they tried to look on the bright side of things.
Still, Schorl was being insistent about getting a reply, and Scylla knew that if she didn’t say something, things would just get worse. “I’m… nervous,” she said honestly, “I don’t want to leave Equestria, or all the creatures I know here.”
“Oh sweetie,” Schorl said, noticing some tears start to well up in Scylla’s eyes, “We all have to do things we don’t want to sometimes. It’s all part of growing up.”
“Being enslaved and sold to a minotaur is not part of growing up.” Scylla shot back, revealing more and more how upset she was with each passing second, “I know that my master owns me, and I can’t do anything about it, but I still have the right to be sad about this.”
Schorl’s normally pleased expression gave way to a slight frown, her eyes shifting away for a brief moment, before going back to Scylla. “You’re right,” she conceded, “Despite your training, this is surely an emotional time for you, and you have every right to feel however you wish.”
“Really?” Scylla asked, a little surprised that Schorl would give her even that much leeway.
“Scylla, when it comes down to it, the only thing a slave truly owns is their feelings,” said the crystal mare, “I can train you to endure sex with a brutish minotaur, but it’s always up to you if you actually enjoy it. The two are, fortunately for the two of us, mutually exclusive parts of the whole. I don’t need you to enjoy your fate, just to accept it. In the same light, you don’t need me to approve of your distaste for the path I’ve forced you down, and if it makes you feel better, hate me to your heart’s content. Curse my name under your breath, and put the weight of all your future misfortunes on me.”
Scylla laughed a little through her tears at Schorl’s little speech. She didn’t expect the crystal unicorn to be so self deprecating, and there was something amusing about the head mistress of the Society accepting all the guilt that Scylla might pin on her.
“I… don’t want to blame you,” Scylla said, even though she knew that without Schorl she probably wouldn’t be where she was now, “Because even if I do, it’s not going to change what’s about to happen, is it?”
“Not at all,” Schorl replied, “While I might have some sympathy about your plight, my priorities are with the satisfaction of my clients. Besides, I’m sure that for as sad as you will be today, the life you will live with your master will not be miserable. Your master cares for you, and wishes to make you happy.”
“What makes you think that?” Scylla asked.
“I’ve seen enough slave owners to know which ones are better than others,” Schorl answered, “And your master seems like a keeper to me. If all of my members were like him, then I wouldn’t have to have ponies dragged here kicking and screaming to be enslaved.”
Schorl giggled under her breath, seemingly amused, but whatever made her smile was lost on the kelpie. Schorl was, more than all others in the Society, an eccentric, and the things that made her brain tick was beyond a pony like Scylla. Still, something about what Schorl said made Scylla feel a little better, for reasons that the kelpie really didn’t understand. Maybe it was the idea that her master really was one of the better ones she could have gotten, or simply the crystal mare’s own attitude rubbing off onto her, but Scylla felt her tears retreating back into her eyes.
“Anyways, we need to get you to your master,” Schorl said, not paying attention in the slightest to Scylla’s change of mood, “Can’t keep him waiting.”
Schorl went to the door, with Scylla following right behind her, opening it and then reaching around the door frame to grab a leash hanging from a hook just outside it. Scylla was going to be led around like an animal one last time through the halls of her prison, and accepting that inevitably, Scylla lifted her head up to reveal her collar.
When Schorl turned back around, she was pleasantly surprised to see that the kelpie was already prepped for leashing, and her willingness to comply gave the crystal mare another idea. “Scylla, how would you like to walk the halls of the Society without a collar for once?”
Scylla’s eyes widened, and her chin lowered to meet her gaze with Schorl’s. It was a general and unbroken rule that all slaves could only go through the halls while leashed, hobbled, bound, or some other means where the creature was escorting them, to prevent any attempts of escape the slave might come up with. This applied to all slaves, no matter if they were well trained. Not even the trustees were given that much freedom.
“I see that you’re shocked, which you should be,” Schorl said, coiling the leash up in her hands, “But you are the Element of Submission, and while that doesn’t give you any special privileges, I think that having you walk through the halls without trying to flee is a perfect final test. That is… if you feel you are up to the task.”
“I think… I could do it!” Scylla said, becoming very excited about the premise of walking down a hall, for some inexplicable reason.
“Good” Schorl said, “But don’t think that there won’t be some stipulations to this arrangement. After all, no slave can walk the halls without a leash.”
Moments later, the two mares were walking down the hall, with Schorl walking upright, while Scylla was crawling behind her on all fours, carrying the coiled leash in her mouth as she did her best to keep up with the crystal mare. It was humiliating, but Scylla took some pride in the fact that she was the first slave to travel the halls without direct guidance. For as mundane as this should have been, it was a rare event for the captives of the Society that would probably never be repeated, and in some twisted way that made Scylla special.
“I’ll be honest,” Schorl said, walking at a slow pace to allow Scylla to keep up, “I’m gonna miss having you around. You were certainly an asset to the organization, and the fulfillment of their desires with your body. Did you know that you had sex with two hundred and seventy four different separate ponies during your stay here? That’s counting members, other slaves, and myself of course.”
Scylla shook her head reactively, though Schorl couldn’t see her response. That was an amazing number though, especially since she hadn’t been too active for the last month or so. Scylla couldn’t help but see herself as a slut, especially since in a lot of those encounters, she had allowed herself to enjoy the acts, and the mere thought of some of them was leading her to leak fluids from between her legs, enough that she was dripping onto the satan carpet she was crawling on. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Schorl and her organization had trained her well.
“You made me and your master a lot of money, that’s for sure,” Schorl continued, “And everypony loved seeing your cute face around here, each in their own special ways. It’s almost a shame to let you go, but such is the life of both a slave and a head mistress of a slave ring. You were never intended to stay here forever, but to fulfill your purpose to your master. As sad as it might be for me, it is time that you moved on from this place. I would only hope that you will think of the time you spent here, and of me from time to time.”
Scylla didn’t believe there would be a problem with that. It would be difficult for anypony to forget the Society after being put through the training they provided, and it would be hard to not correlate all those endured experiences with the mare in charge of the operation. The question was if she’d think back on these times with longing or detest. While being kidnapped, raped, sold into slavery, and turned into a breeding mare were not thing that were supposed to be viewed in a positive light, Schorl’s mental manipulations caused her to see the good aspects of being the sex slave of a minotaur. Someone to take care of you, to provide you with security, as well as a defined purpose in life, were things some creatures would do anything to have, and without Schorl the kelpie wouldn’t have them.
So what did that mean for Scylla’s feelings about the crystal mare? Did she hate Schorl for enslaving her, or like Schorl for introducing her to the creature she was now fated to be with? It was difficult to decide, the crystal mare both being the nightmare of any pony she targeted, and yet a creature who cared about those she forced into slavery. Had some of the more sadistic members of the Society been in charge of the organization, it would be easy to see the slaves being mistreated in ways that even Schorl didn’t approve of. As strange as the notion was, Schorl might have been the best slaver a creature could be enslaved by. At least she took measures to protect those she intended to sell into bondage, not allowing ponies to be harmed beyond what she felt was reasonable while they resided within her walls, and provided them with training that would aid them when they left the safety of her presence.
Because of that, Scylla eventually came to the conclusion that Schorl was a benefactor of sorts, though not one that was the best influence on her. There was no delusion in Scylla’s mind, Schorl was a rapist who used other ponies for her own benefit and profit, a creature who by her acts could only be considered evil… but, if any evil creature was going to force Scylla into a life where she could never taste freedom ever again, there would be no better option than Schorl in the kelpie’s eyes.
Suddenly, Scylla felt a now familiar sensation enter her perception, the feeling of a thought getting locked into her mind. With her mouth full of leash, she let out a surprised “Mrph!”, and looked up at the mare walking ahead of her, who was looking back at her with a glowing horn.
“Gotcha,” Schorl said with a smirk.
Scylla couldn’t believe it. After all the time she spent in the Society, and all the rules she had learned in order to minimize the manipulations being done to her, Schorl still managed to catch her off guard and pull another fast one, locking a positive thought of the mare permanently in her consciousness. Now Scylla couldn’t think poorly of the crystal mare, even if she wanted to. Even now, all she could muster was a begrudging respect for what the head mistress had done.
Turning her head back to the path she was leading Scylla down, Schorl followed that with, “As you know, I can’t read your mind, but if I were to hazard a guess, you were thinking of me right now. Perhaps you had good thoughts, and perhaps you had bad, but whatever it is you were thinking, I feel it’s best you hold onto it. A pony’s memory can change over time. Fond memories can go foul, and terrible ones can turn to nostalgia if given the chance. I feel it does a disservice to the spirit of the memories to alter your feelings to them, as it destroys the intended purpose they had. If you loathe me, I would rather you keep that feeling every time you think of me, as at least that is genuine.”
For as grand a speech Schorl was making about wanting Scylla to hate her forever if that was her true feelings for the crystal unicorn, this felt way too planned for Scylla to believe that was what the head mistress’ had wanted. Schorl had to have known that the kelpie had thought something positive about her. Scylla wanted to be pissed at how Schorl played her like a fiddle, but as she was, all she could do was admire Schorl’s cunning.
This was how Scylla would always remember the head mistress of the Society; as the eccentric, intelligent, and crafty manipulator who controlled every slave in her care like puppets on her strings, guiding them to a future of servitude that would bring them happiness. Surely Scylla would never meet another mare like this one, and was undoubtedly a good thing.
It didn’t take long after Schorl’s final trick on the kelpie for the two mares to reach their destination, which for Scylla would be her final destination. One final set of doors at the end of a hallway, which behind them waited her new life. Scylla couldn’t help but be intimidated, as once she passed inside, everything she once knew would be over. She was visibly shaking, unable to conceal her nervousness.
“I see you’re excited,” Schorl said, taking note of Scylla’s shaking, “I was just like you when my first master stole me away.”
“What?” Scylla asked back, and dropped the leash in her mouth in the process.
“Oh, nothing,” Schorl replied, “But… what’s this?” The crystal mare bent over, picking up a box that had been left near the door, one with a letter atop it, that Schorl had begun reading. “Hmm, seems like your master wants you to be presentable before seeing him.”
“Presentable?” Scylla asked again, her nerves not allowing her to think straight about anything.
“He wants you to be dressed,” Schorl answered, opening the box and pulling out a white garment.
“Is that… A tunic?” the kelpie wondered aloud, seeing the white fabric and coming to her conclusion based on the first traditionally white article of clothing that came to mind.
“I don’t think so,” said Schorl, “But whatever it is, you had better put it on for your owner. I’m sure he’d be livid if you went before him without it on.”
The crystal unicorn levitated the outfit out of the box, and over to Scylla, who took it in her hands and proceeded to put it on without any issue. It was the first real form of clothing outside of fetish wear she had been given since she had been enslaved, or so she assumed, and she wasn’t going to reject such a gift from her master.
The crystal pony assisted Scylla in putting on her given attire, practically dressing the kelpie by herself. It was almost a motherly display, which Scylla found herself enjoying, with her now fixed thoughts on the crystal mare. She had never had a mother, being adopted by her father, who never married. The closest thing to one she had was Anya, and she wasn’t around that often, nor was she the type to help braid hair or dress up a little filly. She was more of a ‘worldly advice’ kind of parental unit, and the kind who wouldn’t hesitate to protect Scylla if anything tried to harm her. While that was good in its own way, and she would never want Anya to be any different from what she was, she also always wanted a female figure who would do things like what Schorl was doing with her.
Once Schorl got the outfit on the kelpie, it became obvious that it was a dress, a somewhat elaborate one that was apparently custom made to fit her body in its current state, with sections cut out of it that allowed a full view of all her private areas. Scylla would have expected no less, given her role, as her body belonged to Rubric, and not only would the minotaur want to flaunt it in front of others upon arrival to the minotaur homeland, but would also enjoy the access those areas devoid of fabric would provide. This was just another thing she would have to accept in her new life.
“And… Done.” Schorl announced, tying together the back part of the dress, “And I must say, you look wonderful.”
“Thank you,” Scylla said, blushing slightly at the compliment, “And thank you for dressing me.”
“Not at all, my dear,” Schorl said, grabbing the door handle, turning and pushing it open slowly, “It is always a pleasure to help one of my trained slaves in such matters. Besides, your master did request that I deliver you this way, as it wouldn’t be appropriate if you arrived at an event like this without the proper dress.”
Schorl turned to the door, pushing it open for the kelpie, and gesturing her inside. This was it, the doorway that would lead to her master, and the moment that would lead to the rest of her life. She braced herself, not sure what would happen once Rubric got ahold of her, except that she would probably never see Equestria ever again. When she entered the room, Scylla found herself in a large area she recognized as the place where her master had won her, the one that looked like a small theater with benches lining the walls. The only thing missing from it was the large object she had been strapped to when her master was being selected for her, but in its place were so many more things.
The room had been decorated, albeit sparsely, with flowers and tapestries, and in the center, near where she had been bound, was a podium that looked like the kind you’d see at a church, and next to it stood her master in a toga that she had never seen him wear before. With him was Mina and Path, both in maid uniforms, and her father currently holding what looked like a pillow with a collar sitting atop it. It was a little strange, but what was even more curious was that they weren’t the only ones waiting for her, as some of the benches had been occupied by other creatures, consisting of ponies, minotaur, and gryphons. In fact, she recognized most of them, four very clearly being Nightshade, Charming Tale, Gabby, and Blue Yonder, each sitting next to their respective masters, and looking as far along in their pregnancies as Scylla. Then there were two gryphons sitting off to the side, which were the ones that had captured her and Path, both not looking all that interested in what was going on. Other than them, it was mostly other minotaur in attendance, but Scylla didn’t understand why they were all here. Surely this kind of send off wasn’t needed for a tamed slave. With all these people here, and with everything all decorated, and her master and fellow slaves dressed up the way they were, it almost looked like this was a…
“Welcome to your wedding day, Scylla.” Schorl said, walking by the kelpie.
“My… WHAT?!” Scylla said, never once believing that she’d heard those words said to her in a place like this.
“You’re master mentioned that you wanted to start an actual relationship with him, even though you were merely his slave,” Schorl continued, “And that as far as he saw, he didn’t think it was just some ploy to escape. He said that you were legitimately trying, and he wanted to reward that effort, by at least granting you a proper pony marriage before you left your homelands.”
“B-But I… getting married?!” Scylla said dumbfounded, “Master really wants to marry me? Can he even do that?”
“It’s up to an owner what they wish to do with their slaves,” Schorl explained, “While unconventional, I see no reason why one couldn’t marry their slave, if they saw fit. Now come along dear,” Schorl held out her arm, and motioned for the kelpie to take it, “We mustn’t keep him waiting.”
Scylla was still confused, the idea of becoming a bride stunning her. It felt like a big step going from being someone’s sex slave to being their wife. Did that mean that she was being freed? Probably not, but it might mean that Rubric valued her over all the other slaves he had. This thought led to a rush of others, so many she couldn’t really keep up with them all, but eventually she remembered that no matter what this all meant, even if it was just something to make her happy, she was still currently Rubric’s slave, and he wanted to do this, so she had to obey.
Scylla put her arm around Schorl’s, allowed the mare to walk her down the aisle, and give her away. An appropriate gesture, seeing as she Scylla’s newly acquired respect for the mare, and that Schorl was the one that captured and sold her to the minotaur. As they walked slowly towards Rubric, music started playing, a wedding march to make the event feel more authentic. Scylla was still having problems processing everything, but she allowed herself to go through all the motions. She had seen this kinda thing a bunch of times, so she knew what she was expected to do, but everything was so surreal, mostly because Rubric had never brought up the idea that he wanted to do this, and he felt like the type who didn’t want to enter into a commitment like this.
“You’re overthinking this,” Schorl whispered into Scylla’s ear, “You’re shaking so hard, so I know you got a lot going through your mind, but you must never forget that you exist to serve your master. If he wishes to have a wedding, then your main focus should be to perform your role in that wedding to the best of your ability. Remove your own thoughts on the matter from the equation, and just try to enjoy being useful to your master.”
Scylla listened to Schorl, and with her mind racing as it was, was able to think through everything she said at a record pace, and come to the conclusion of how ridiculous it was. There was no way she was going to be able to remove herself from something this big, as even after all the training she went through, she was no expert slave mare. The idea that Schorl thought she could do that was funny though, and it made the kelpie laugh a little, which did ease the tension a little. In her own way, the crystal unicorn was helping, even if it wasn’t in the manner she intended.
By the time they made it to the podium, Scylla had managed to stop shaking, and stood up tall as she met her master eye to eye. The minotaur looked back at her, head tilted downward, and then looked at everyone else gathered around.
“Do you like it?” he asked, having no clue how Scylla felt coming in.
“It’s… I didn’t expect anything like this.” Scylla said truthfully, “It’s certainly amazing.”
“I’m hoping that it will leave a happy memory,” Rubric said, “Instead of a sad one of you being torn away from the place you grew up in.”
So Rubric did do this for Scylla’s sake after all, wanting to make her relocation as comfortable as possible, and he felt that the best way to do it was to make her, at least in Scylla’s eyes, an honest mare.
“Ok, let’s get this started,” Schorl said, breaking up the moment, as she left Scylla’s side, and took a spot behind the podium. Apparently she was going to play priest as well. “Dearly beloved friends and loved ones of the bride and groom, we are gathered here to witness the joining of these two creatures in eternal bondage.”
Scylla had to stifle another laugh, as the crystal unicorn put her own spin on the proceedings of the ceremony, at the very least, this was going to be amusing.
“In the months since they first met, our dear kelpie has come to accept her role, as both Rubric’s slave and as the mother of his children. As her life goes forward from here, she will be expected to endure many hardships in her lifelong mission to please her master, but with hardships also comes rewards. Satisfaction, comfort, security, and even love. It is on this most glorious of days that she will receive the gracious gift of matrimony, binding her being to her master in the most intimate way one could be.”
Schorl looked up to the minotaur before her, continuing her parody of a wedding ceremony by saying, “Rubric, do you take this pony, to own and command, to keep as servant, sex slave, brood mother, and property, till one of you perishes?”
“I do,” Rubric replied, zero hesitation in his response, as one would expect since he was simply agreeing to something that was already the case.
“And do you, Scylla,” Schorl said, redirecting her attention to the kelpie, “Promise to obey the wishes of your master, to dedicate your body, mind, and your very soul to his pleasure and satisfaction. To bear his children, to maintain his household, to honor and respect his demands, and give yourself to him as slave, lover, and wife, till death may you part?”
“I do,” Scylla said, agreeing to the terms given to her on the spot, not only because that was what she was supposed to do, but because she had been caught up in the moment.
As much as she probably shouldn’t have, the kelpie felt that this was right, and that after getting to know Rubric a little better, this was the right thing to do. No matter how it came about, he was the father of her soon to be born child, and in a twisted sense was the only male to ever put this much effort into a relationship with her. Her entire stay at the Society was something out of dark fantasy, but in its own way was both the most romantic and exciting parts of her life. Now that it was over, she was going to settle down with the man who had claimed her as his, and become a mother as they lived together for the rest of their lives. She was so distracted by these thoughts that she didn’t even notice that Schorl’s horn had started glowing again, but this time with a slightly different colored magical aura around it.
“Does the owner have a personal collar for his slave bride?” Schorl asked, looking back to Rubric.
The minotaur sent his gaze to Pathfinder, and gestured him over. The pegasus, who was acting as ring bearer for the wedding, grimaced at the command, clearly not enjoying the ceremony as much as Scylla. Nonetheless, he obeyed, bringing over the collar he had been holding atop a plush pillow.
Rubric turned to Scylla before addressing his femcolt pegasus slave, taking out a key, and using it to remove the collar Scylla had been given by the Society. “You won’t need this anymore,” the minotaur said, taking Scylla’s new collar from her father, “It marked you as a slave in training, but now that training is finished. With this collar, I declare you as mine, to have and to use as I see fit, for as long as we both may live.”
As Rubric spoke, Scylla took in the feeling of not having something around her throat for the first time in months. It felt strange, like something was missing, and when Rubric went to put the new collar on her, she didn’t resist in the slightest, only feeling secure when it was fastened in place. It felt different, but comforting, made of a pure white leather and that was padded with a soft material on the inside, making it a bit tighter than her last collar, but less irritating as it constantly touched her skin. The metal parts that made the leash ring was made of gold, and it was decorated with topazes that shimmered in the light, making both the object and the wearer a stunning thing to behold. With it in place, Scylla knew that she now was Rubirc’s completely, his collar proof of who her master was.
Once Rubric locked it in place, he looked Scylla in the eyes, and said to her, “You are my beloved slave mare, my precious Sara.”
“Sara?” Scylla replied, confused.
“My people have a custom of renaming our slaves, to let them know that whatever they were before becoming slaves no longer matters. From now on, you will be ‘Sara’, which means ‘princess’ in minotaur culture.”
Scylla was shocked that she had just been given a new name out of the blue, but it was no more abrupt than the wedding itself. When it came down to it, if Rubric wanted it, she was gonna have to accept it, cause it didn’t matter if she liked it or not. At the very least it was a nice name, as the title ‘princess’ must have still held some value in minotaur culture, lest they’d not have a term for it to begin with. So without a word, Scylla gave a nod that she understood, changed from Scylla to Sara.
Schorl took that as a cue to proceed, “Then, with the power invested in me, as the head mistress of the Society, I now pronounce you Master and Slave. You may now do as you please with the bride.”
“I wish to do this,” Rubric said, wrapping his arm around his newlywed kelpie, and lifting her up off the ground effortlessly, pressing his lips into her as he sealed their marriage with a kiss.
Sara closed her eyes, allowing herself to give in to the moment. She had just gotten married, or at least the closest she would get to it, seeing as none of this was probably an official wedding in any sense. Still, she was enjoying it like it was a real wedding, and she was now ready to spend the rest of her life with Rubric, the man who claimed her. He might have raped her, put her through sexual torment, and impregnated her against her will, but at this moment, she truly believed that she had fallen in love with the brute.
It was at that time that Sara felt a sensation that could only be described as ‘something slipping out of her’. She immediately opened her eyes, and darted her eyes around, only stopping when she noticed that a small, heart shaped crystal was now floating within an aura of unicorn magic, somehow knowing on sight that was what she was looking for.
“What… is that?” Sara asked, understanding that it was something of great importance.
Around her, she could hear voices stir, as those who witnessed the appearance of the crystal heart were bewildered at what they had seen happen right in front of them. The minotaur in attendance were not surprised themselves, but spoke in whispers with one another, more aware of what this wedding was all about than the other guests. One member in particular knew exactly what had just happened, and was equal parts frightened and outraged.
“Scylla, are you okay!?” Path said, running to his daughter in panic.
“Be calm, Mr. Finder,” Schorl said, floating the crystal heart to Rubric, who set his kelpie slave down to accept the object, “Your daughter is perfectly fine.”
“Fuck you,” the pegasus said back to the crystal pony, “When you did that to me, it hurt so bad I passed out for days!”
“That’s because you resisted it every step of the way,” Schorl replied, pulling out a heart shaped glass container from behind her podium, levitating it over to Rubric, so he could place his newly acquired heart into the protective case, “Scylla, or Sara as it appears to be now, was fully accepting of her ritual, and thus there was nearly zero resistance in extracting her crystal heart.”
“My… What’s going on?” Sara asked, completely confused, “What is that thing?”
“That, my dear,” said Schorl, “Is a symbol of your dedication to your master, created from my magic. As your father so bluntly put it, the ritual to extract it can be incredibly painful, if the ritual is used in a manner that corrupts the intent. If used for its true purpose though, the ritual is virtually harmless.”
“And what is it’s true purpose?” Sara questioned further, wondering what exactly happened to her.
“To create a bond greater than any other, by having absolute trust in another that you’re willing to give them everything, just like you did.” Schorl answered, smiling in satisfaction of the results of her labor with the kelpie, “Congratulations, Sara. Your training is officially complete.”
The sound of clapping hit the kelpie’s ears, as the few minotaur watching events unfold showed their respect to Rubric, in sealing his dominance over his female. The other Elements soon joined in, thinking the minotaur were applauding the kelpie for her progress, and feeling it would be rude of them not to support their slave sister. The gryphon slave hunters didn’t bother to clap as well, as they were only attending because Schorl insisted, and offered them a bonus if they saw their capture leave the Society. Schorl’s requests were often strange, but her coin was always good.
“Wait!” Path shouted, finding nothing about this situation worth celebrating. Not the fake wedding, Scylla’s name change, or that Rubric had taken her crystal heart as well, “This was not part of our-”
“Settle down,” Rubric commanded, to which Pathfinder instantly found himself becoming calm, unable to be outraged over the effects of his crystal heart’s influence, “This was always the plan with your daughter, to have her bound to me in this absolute manner. Though the circumstances of it were changed over time, with Sara becoming more compliant to the process, I was going to have control of her will, one way or another.”
Sara’s head tilted to the floor, thinking that she had been tricked somehow, which wasn’t far off from the truth. It was always Rubric’s intent to use her for this purpose, whatever that meant, and it left her feeling a bit used, more so than just being a sex slave.
“But now that I have this, I can finally see if the crystal mare is telling the truth to the extent of its power.” The minotaur took a string attached to the glass container, and tied it around his neck to rest with Pathfinder’s heart on the bovine’s chest, “Supposedly, the heart can make the one it came from follow commands so thoroughly, that it can change the ways their minds work, and thus… I command you Sara...”
The kelpie flinched, expecting some awful thing to happen to her, though not knowing how it was going to happen. She still hadn’t been given a real explanation as to what that heart was supposed to do, and now she was at its mercy.
“To never feel pain from my touch, until I say otherwise.” said the bull, finishing his command.
“W-what?” Scylla stuttered, opening her eyes slowly.
“We minotaur have been looking for a way to prevent the pain caused by the curse over us.” Rubric said, explaining the meaning behind his command, “No creature, male or female, can have sex with us without feeling pain, but with these objects, we might be able to overcome that.”
“That is the assumption,” Schorl said, “But the hearts aren’t all powerful, and this particular command in this particular situation has never been tested. I don’t even think you let Mr. Finder have that mercy when you took pleasure from his body.”
“Because I wanted Sara to be the first to feel pure pleasure from a minotaur, if it is even possible. By if it isn’t, and she is still hurt by this-”
“Then I will take full responsibility for her pain,” Schorl said in promise, “I assure you that. However, there is only one way to find out if it will work.”
“Yes,” Rubric said, “Sara, go to one of the benches and bend over it, tail up, legs spread.”
Instantly, Sara did as she was told, the act feeling partially automatic, though she would have obeyed without the affects of her crystal heart. Bracing her body by placing her hands on one of the seats, she lifted her dolphin tail up and to the side, exposing her pussy and ass as she spread her legs apart into an upside down V. Once finished, she looked back, spotting her master stroking his dick, which was now poking out from behind his toga. It did not take long for the cock to get fully erect, and once it was at full mast, he approached his presenting slave.
“But Master,” Sara said, becoming worried, “What about the baby? We haven’t had sex for weeks now because you didn’t want to harm it.”
“I won’t shove myself into your womb,” Rubric answered, aiming his dick at her lower lips, “Just enough to see if this hurts or not, which shouldn’t take much to find out.”
With that said, the minotaur pushed himself inside his kelpie slave as gently as a minotaur could, which was still with the force of a harsh thrust. The only restraint given was that he only pushed a quarter of his length inside, which wasn’t enough to breach the womb and cause harm to the child held inside.
“AAAAHH!” Sara yelled out, the size of the minotaur causing a surge of feelings to pour into her consciousness.
“Are you ok, my princess?” Rubric said, holding his position, “Did it still hurt?”
Sara tried to focus, her head spinning with the sudden surge of sensation. It was hard for her to hear the question given to her, let alone answer it. She was trying to piece together all she felt, and what it was being translated as in her mind, but as her senses started to return to her, there was one noticeable thing about this time being penetrated by her master, when compared to all the other times.
“It… doesn’t hurt.” Sara said, feeling no sensation of pain, the feeling being blocked completely from her.
Rubric wasn’t convinced, as the mare could have just been saying it to please him. “Answer me honestly, are you in pain?”
“It doesn’t hurt at all, master,” repeated the kelpie, “It’s a bit uncomfortable, I feel stuffed and cramped inside, but I don’t feel any pain.”
“And when I do this?” Rubric asked, stirring his dick around inside the aquatic mare.
Sara replied with a moan, but one of pleasure, not agony. The heart’s magic was working like a charm, blocking out any and all pain the kelpie would have felt. At worst, she would say it felt a little unpleasant, but that was being overshadowed by the immense amounts of good sensations that filled her being with each of the minotaur’s movements. Of all the times the minotaur used her, this was the only time she reached this level of euphoria.
“Answer me,” Rubric commanded, “How does it feel?”
“It feeeeeels sooooo gooooood,” Sara replied, practically gargling the words as she got lost deeper and deeper into the pleasure she felt.
Getting the answers he wanted, Rubric gripped the kelpie’s tail, and pulled out of her. Sara’s arms and legs collapsed near immediately upon removal, but the minotaur kept her from hitting the ground with his hold on her. Pain or pleasure, it was evident that the kelpie’s brain had been overwhelmed by sensation.
“Are the results to your satisfaction?” Schorl said, coming up from behind the minotaur.
“Yes, it appears we have finally found a way to get around the curse that plagues our people,” Rubric replied, happy to be able to pleasure his slave bride without causing her any pain.
The heart’s enchantment, combined with the medicines that made smaller creatures capable of taking a minotaur’s dick without bodily damage, made it possible for a minotaur to have normal sex with other species. It was in some ways a miracle, at least for the ones who were used as breeding slaves to birth new minotaur into the world.
“I’m glad that you are satisfied then, and that my obligations to you have been fulfilled,” with her business with Rubric finished, Schorl redirected her attention to the other minotaur in attendance. “And what of you all? Now that you’ve seen what the crystal hearts can do, do any of you want to remove the pain you cause to your slaves during sex?”
Before any of the minotaur masters could answer, Nightshade, the batmare and Element of Pleasure, jumped up from her seat. “Oh! Do me next!” she yelled, hand raised high.
“Just remember,” said one of the minotaur sitting on the benches, which happened to be Schorl’s minotaur bodyguard, Sartek, “Her services aren’t free. If you want to have this done to your slaves, you had better be ready to pay.”
Within the hour, three of the present four Elements of Servitude joined Scylla in having their crystal hearts extracted, with Schorl expecting that most would agree to the ritual, as she never fully explained what it entailed. For those who allowed the ritual to be done, they didn’t understand that they were trading their wills away for the privilege of not being forced to feel pain when their masters used them.
Nightshade was the first to go through the ritual, only having to pledge herself to her master to have her heart slip free of her body. After her went Gabby, who was required to clip her own wings as a sign of submission, though not in a manner that would prevent them from growing back over time. Charming Tale relented by the end of the gryphon’s display, and at first offered to have her horn shaved halfway down to a stump to prevent her from using magic until it grew back, but her master refused that idea. Instead, she had to write out a small poem of how she would dedicate her life to his happiness, which was a simple enough task for the writer.
In the end, the only one to hold out was Blue Yonder, the pegasus rightfully not trusting the spell. With her reluctance to go through it, it didn’t matter if her master wanted her crystal heart or not, he would not be able to get it. When she started seeing how the crystal heart’s allowed the other girl’s masters to control them, which each minotaur tested shortly after acquiring them, Blue Yonder’s resolve to not have the ritual performed on her doubled, as she wouldn’t allow any creature to take claim of her will. Enslaved or not, she was determined to remain a free spirit, with the intent of one day escaping her fate, even if it took her years to achieve it.
By the time all the rituals were completed, Sara was able to recover from the pleasure coma she had been put into, and since the main part of the wedding was completed, all that was left to complete the ceremony was a post wedding feast. A large amount of food was carted in by a dozen deer slaves, and when it was all set up, all in attendance went to get their fair share, all the slaves allowed to partake in the tasty foods as celebration for this momentous occasion. The minotaur grouped together, while the gryphon slave hunters quickly left the room after grabbing a plate, not really interested in conversing with anyone there. That left the slaves to all mingle with each other, and once Sara reunited with her fellow Elements, there was one burning question on her mind that she needed answered.
“So you’ve all been to Minopolis?” she asked, after the group shared casual greetings and a little bit of the kelpie’s wedding cake.
“Yeah,” Blue Yonder said, “My new home is in the city of Cowzoni, which seems to be a bit smaller than the capital.”
“You’re wondering what it’s like there, aren’t you?” Charming added, remembering Sara’s prior interest in the place, “Well what Nightsh- I mean Narkissa, said was pretty much true.”
“Narkissa? Is that the name your master gave you?” Sara asked, but knowing that had to be the case.
“Sure is,” the batmare replied, “I wanted to be renamed Nyx, but my master said that was too common of a name for mares with black fur.”
“Anyways,” Charming continued, “The cities are very different to those in Equestria. A lot less rural, and filled with that Antlertean technology the Society has.”
“Then there are all the different species there,” said Gabby, “In Equestria and Griffonstone, it was hard to see anything other than a gryphon or a pony, but Minopolis has tons of different creatures.”
“All as slaves, right?” Sara said, not seeing any other reason other creatures would be in such a place.
“Mostly,” Blue Yonder confirmed, “But my master took me to a slave yard a few times, and I’ve seen some gryphons freely walking around. I guess that they have some kind of business relation with one another.”
“They have lots of interesting things to see there too.” said Narkissa, “Lots of lewd artwork decorating the city, gladiatorial fights where slaves or minotaur are pitted against each other in combat, and I even got to see a public birthing.”
“So master was telling the truth,” Sara said, remembering how Rubric brought that behavior of his kind up in the past.
“They do it all the time,” Charming added, “I don’t think a day has gone by were the birthing area didn’t have someone up there pushing out a child. I’ve even been taken to watch a few when a slave belonging to a friend of my master was on display.”
“Me too,” said Gabby.
“Me too,” Blue Yonder said, making it so each of them had attended a public birthing, “They put you on a stage, and a few deer attendants act as midwifes as a crowd watches. It looks really embarrassing, but I bet our masters will want us to do the same when the time comes.”
Sara sighed, but having long accepted that she would have to participate in such an event. That bit of humiliation aside, it sounded like Minopolis wasn’t completely horrible, as none of the others were saying anything about it that was overtly negative.
As time went on, the wedding eventually wound down, and came to a close. After everyone got their fill, and said everything they felt they needed to, it was time to wrap things up. The minotaur gathered their slaves, and headed to the back of the room, where a large black crystal awaited, along with the Society’s head mistress.
“Is everyone ready?” Schorl said, her horn glowing with an intense magic, “If so, then I’m opening the portal.”
“I think we’re all ready to head home,” Rubric said, his three slaves leashed to his arm, with Mina showing excitement, and Pathfinder displaying his lack of enthusiasm that in the end the minotaur got everything he wanted. Sara was surprisingly calm, finally accepting fully that this was happening, and that she’d be ok, so long as it was Rubric that owned her. Surely things would happen that would still shock and unnerve her in Minopolis, but she had faith that Rubric wouldn’t allow anything too terrible to happen.
“Then if you would all step through in an orderly fashion,” Schorl said, gesturing to the stone.
“Elder’s first,” said Gabby’s master, Cestus, looking to Blue Yonder’s master, Longinus.
The older minotaur nodded, and walked directly into the stone, tugging his pegasus behind him. The two went through the seemingly solid mass like it was water, and disappeared into its black surface.
“I’ll go next,” said Narkissa’s master, walking to the stone portal.
The batmare happily walked at her master’s pace aside him, but turned back to Sara just in time to give a wave, before being playfully yanked into the stone by her master, who had already gone through.
After Narkissa, went Gabby, and following her was Charming Tale, who managed to tell Sara that she was working on a new book, and that she would try to send her a copy once it was finished. After the unicorn’s departure, all that remained was Rubric and his group of slaves.
“Time to leave,” he said solemnly, understanding that this moment was incredibly important to each of his three slaves, as they would probably never return to this place, either the Society’s facility, or Equestria on the whole.
The minotaur made his way to the crystal portal, walking at a steady pace. Mina, Path, and Sara followed closely behind, and watched as their master merged into the stone, vanishing from sight. Mina was the next to enter, and after her was Path. Just as Sara touched the rock, and the first parts of her body went into it, she heard the crystal mare give one final sentiment.
“Goodbye Sara, I wish you well in your new life.”
The kelpie accepted the kind words from the slaver mare, and closed her eyes as she slipped into the portal, and to her fate.
“We’re here,” she heard her master say on the other side, “Welcome home.”
Equestria Trainers' Society: Fish Out of Water
“Come along, Sara,” Rubric said, walking his kelpie and her pegasus father through the city of Minopolis on a set of leashes, “It’s not much further.”
Sara, the aquatic equine formerly known as Scylla, followed behind her master as she could, but she was finding it difficult to do so as she looked around at all the minotaur made buildings surrounding her. The city was a sight to behold, rivaling the splendor of the more regal Equestria cities, like Canterlot. While the size of the city itself contributed to some of her wonderment, as buildings were crafted to accommodate minotaur, while made every structure double the size of it’s Equestrian counterpart, the main thing that attracted her attention was the magi-tech marvels from the Antlerteans that was integrated into the most every structure of the city.
From simple street lights, to strange magical devices that Scylla yet to understand the purposes of, there were many things in Minopolis that were common here, but impossible to find in her former home. As the trio of creatures passed by one building, a minotaur entered through a door that opened for him upon approach, which to the kelpie seemed like an unnecessary luxury, when one could easily open a door themselves.
As much as these things amazed Sara, it was the reason she couldn’t keep pace. Perhaps such sights could have caused her to pause in the past, but at this point she had been living in the minotaur nation for several months, and a bit of her initial awe had worn off. No, what was causing her to slow down was a simple matter of nature, as she was now nine month pregnant, and her water had broken just minutes prior.
“How are you doing?” Pathfinder asked his daughter, “Do you need me to help you?”
Of the two males escorting Sara, the pegasus was far more concerned, Rubric doing little more than keeping an eye on his female as he made her walk under her own power in the midst of labor.
“I’m… fine” Sara replied, stifling a grunt of pain between words, “I think I can make it on my own.”
Sara and Rubric had been taking walks to the birthing area frequently since her arrival, so she had plenty of practice, and she hadn’t started contractions yet. She felt she could make it, so long as she kept her focus on something else other than herself. Looking around, she tried keeping her attention on the others walking the streets.
It was still early, but Minopolis was a city that was active around the clock. Plenty of minotaur were out, even as the sun was rising, opening shops that sold food, crafts, carts, furniture, pretty much anything that you’d find at a normal market, with the added inclusion of items used in the managing and taking care of slaves. There were always two different types of items too, those made by minotaur, and those made by those they owned. Minotaur made object were often crude and simple, but durable. Antlertean objects, which made up most of the other items, were often elegant and powered by crystal batteries filled with their magic, just like structures around the city. A small percentage of other items were made by other enslaved species, who others were owned by the shop’s owner, always having some form of flair that came from the creature’s ethic background, such as a kirin made sculpture Sara once saw being of scaled ponies surround in orange glass in the shape of fire.
As more and more creatures came into the streets, the minotaur present were joined with many of the deer native to this land, who Sara had learned were often allowed to go about unescorted to places, in order to run errands or even work for the benefit of their master. They were even allowed to have time off, where they could go about and do what they pleased, so long as they returned to their masters when they were instructed to, and not a minute later. To see the deer allowed to live practically normal lives was beyond Sara’s expectations upon arrival, but seeing them move around so freely made her feel a little better once it set in that her own enslavement wasn’t going to be all chains and cages, even if public nudity seemed to be a common theme among all those under minotaur rule.
Walking closer to the place where Sara would give birth, she, her master, and her father had to pass by the slave market, the place where Rubric ran his own business. As he had explained, he was a slaver, in the fullest sense of the word. Not only did he capture slaves, but he had his own section of the slaver’s market that belonged to him. A sizable booth that held within it several cells, and within it several creatures he had for sale. While he was working at the Society, he allowed his own Antlertean’s to operate it, selling off stock, which mostly consisted of others of their species, whom Rubric had purchased from the nurseries located around the minotaurs’ nation for the sole purpose of reselling. The booth was closed at the moment, locked up tightly with heavy bars made of solid titanium, in order to keep things from getting in or out, with metals of that strength being the only thing that could resist the massive might of a minotaur.
The trio passed by the booth, and every other store along the way, not delaying for a moment to reach their destination, the birthing stage. A large structure made of sturdy wood, large enough that it could hold several barns on its surface, sat in the center of the minotaur capital. Birthing was at the center of minotaur culture, and thus the place of birth was at the center of their city, a large street with benches located all around its curve wrapping around the structure, so anyone could sit and watch those displayed on it enter motherhood, or simply watch as they traveled through the city. Rubric led Sara and Pathfinder to one of the many stairways leading up to the platform, each of which being stationed by a pair of Antlerteans comfortably sitting behind a desk.
“Hello sir,” one of the two deer greeted Rubric upon approach, able to determine that he was coming to them when he didn’t veer away, “Is your slave mare in the middle of labor at the moment?”
“She is,” Rubric answered, “Her water broke about twenty minutes ago, and we headed right here after.”
“Have you placed one of your slaves on display during birth before?” asked the other deer, getting together a small stack of papers.
“I have,” Rubric answered again, “A few times, so I’m familiar with your sheets.”
“Then you’ll just need to mark down if you endorse the use of painkillers, potions, the level of humiliation or punishment you, as well as your name, and the name of your slave.”
Rubric looked at all the boxes, and checked off all the things he approved of, making selections that would make the experience as easy for Sara as possible. She had been very well behaved since her relocation, and while one might think that was because of the influence Rubric had over her with the crystal heart, the truth was that the minotaur hardly had to use it to get the results he desired from her. The training at the Society was more than enough to change the kelpie into an obedient brood mare, the likes any minotaur would be proud to have in their possession.
“I will be wanting to keep the child,” Rubric said, stunning the deer for a split second, before making one reach for another form. It was rare for minotaur to want to raise children, but not completely unheard of.
Once the paperwork was complete, Rubric handed over the leashes in his hand, for both his kelpie and his pegasus. He had marked Pathfinder down as an additional midwife for Sara, so he could stay with her, watch over her, and participate in bringing the minotaur’s child into the world. While this was in its own way another thing to rub Path’s nose in how much control he had over both of them, it was also something Rubric had to do, as he wasn’t going to be able to stay himself. He was a busy minotaur, and needed to open his booth, as there was seldom a slow day in the Minopolis slave market.
“Both of you, be on your best behavior,” he commanded before he left, making sure that they would do just that while he was gone, “And listen to the deer. They will take care of you, Sara, and ensure the birth goes off without a problem.”
Sara nodded, trusting her master’s words, even though she was starting to get scared as he turned to walk away. She was told ahead of time he wouldn’t be present for the birthing, but his presence did act as a source of comfort. With her being left in the hands of strangers, the gravity of what was to come hit her.
The only thing she could think to do to give her a bit more courage was to shout to the minotaur “Have a nice day at work, master!”, which made him look back at her with a smile, which in turn made the kelpie feel a little better. The heartfelt moment between the two was cut short though, as the deer tugged on her leash, prompting her to follow their lead as the small group made their way up the platform.
Once up the steps, the desk deer handed both Path and Sara off to another Antlertean, a buck who would be assisting with the birthing, who was picked out from a large group of deer set aside for the task. With leashes in hand, he guided the two ponies across the stage, allowing them to see the dozens of females already in the middle of their own birthings. Some of them were with their own minotaur masters, though they were the minority, as just with raising a child, it was a minotaur trait to not be interested in a birth, and their presence was a display of their power over their females, as they held their slaves in place by leash.
Those without masters were given their own spots on the stage, chained to a post, with a cushioned mat to lay on, that was unless they were directed by a owner to be made uncomfortable during the process, in which they were put in bondage that made them stretch or pose in ways that fulfilled those wishes. Both ponies had seen it all before, but from the ground level, and never this close.
“This is the spot,” the buck said, pointing out a mat for Sara, which had with it a soft, cylindrical pillow she could use to prop her head and upper back on, “Now this is going to take some time, so just lay down on your back and make yourself comfortable. I’ll go get you some potions to make this go along easier, and a few refreshments in case you get thirsty, but for the most part I’ll be checking on you to make sure everything is going smoothly, since you have your owner sent another slave to keep watch over you for your stay.”
Sara did as she was told, and laid down on the mat, positioning the pillow granted to her behind her shoulders. “How long can this take?”
“Hours, usually,” the buck answered, “And if it’s a boy, you’re in for a time. It will hurt either way, but try your best to relax.”
Sara took a deep breath, and proceeded to do as instructed. She wasn’t worried, just a little nervous. She had been told many times prior that there were rarely any complications during childbirth, with all the things the Antlerteans had created to help with it, and the main thing now was that she would just have to grit her teeth and bear what was about to come next.
“Don’t worry,” Path said, taking his daughter’s hand in his own, “I’ll be right here to make sure nothing bad happens.”
Sara did feel better knowing that someone she cared for would be here to watch over her, since her master wouldn’t be. Pathfinder had done so much for her through her life, from raising her, to surrendering his own will to Rubric in order to be with her in Minopolis. There was no other pony she would rather have present at this moment.
Suddenly, a surge of pain strikes Sara. It was coming from her womb, and she knew exactly what that meant. “Dad… I think it’s starting.”
Path gripped his daughter’s hand firm, and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “We’ll get through this together. Relax for now, but when you feel another contraction hit, push.”
Sara nodded, already dreading the pain she would surely feel.
The day passed, enough that the sun had almost performed a full arch over Sara. The deer attending to her delivery had been providing her with water and potions to ease the process, but the event was still agonizing for the mare. At this point, it was clear that she was giving birth to a minotaur, as she didn’t think a pony would have felt as big as the creature moving through her birth canal. The kelpie swore that she could feel a tiny horn scraping against the inner walls of her vaginal passage, and in her mind managed to find the will to curse Rubric for putting her through this, though she restrained herself from vocalizing her pain induced detest for the bovine, since it would only come out as a slew of curse words, and she had been commanded to be on her best behavior.
“Just keep pushing,” said the buck, now stationed between her legs, awaiting a large body to be pushed through the tiny hold of flesh in front of him, “I can see your vagina start to open by itself. The baby must be close.”
Sara struggled to force the child inside of her out, the act feeling so much worse than being fucked by a minotaur. She wanted to scream, like so many other females had earlier when they delivered their own minotaur sons, but she was compelled to hold back her voice, only allowing tears to slip out as went through to torture of being a mother. Not even the painkillers given to her eased the burden of giving birth to the minotaur calf, due to the sheer size of the child, or maybe it was an effect of the minotaur’s curse that made the pain so intense that nothing could stop it. If this was what it was like, she could see now why creatures rarely mated with the bovines of their own will. You’d have to be insane to agree to inflicting something like this upon yourself.
“You’re almost there,” Path said, stroking Sara’s mane as he let her squeeze his hand so hard he was worried a bone might break, “Just a little more.”
Path’s words did little to calm or comfort Sara, as she was at her breaking point. She wanted, no, needed this baby out of her at that moment. The only thing she could do was hear the only advice being given to her, and push with all her might. Minotaur were sturdy, so the kelpie rationalized that a little extra force would do her child no harm. With that as an excuse, Scylla put all her might into pushing, determined to get the child she had been carrying for nine months out as quickly a could.
“There we go,” said the deer, “I can see a snout. That’s a minotaur if I’ve ever seen one.”
No duh! Sara yelled at the deer in though, but just kept on pushing. It was not a quick process, with her having to stop, take a few breaths, and then try again.
At that point though, it was all practically over, and a little over fifteen minutes later, she felt something give and the child slipped free and out of her, the deer grabbing it by the armpits to catch and help pull the brand new baby bull out. The level of relief Sara achieved once it was out was heavenly, as the painkillers given to her were finally unobstructed, and she fell into drug induced bliss.
“How does it look?” Path asked the deer.
“It’s certainly a healthy one,” the buck said, holding up a freshly delivered bovine boy, “A little on the average size, but he’ll have years to bulk up.”
“C-can I see him?” Sara asked, notably exhausted from the ordeal of birthing, but still aware enough to be coherent.
“You can in just a moment,” the deer answered, “I just got to take care of some of this stuff on him, and his cord of course.
The deer went on to cut the calf’s umbilical cord, and clean it up with a wet rag and towel, the baby letting out a few bellows denoting its discomfort through all this. It had just been born, and the first experience it ever had was being roughly rubbed down with soap in water. However, he was quickly cleansed, and once presentable, brought over to its mother so she could see it.
“Be careful now,” the deer said, handing the bull over to Sara, “It might be a minotaur, but it’s still a baby.”
“I’ll be careful,” the kelpie said, taking her son in her arms. He was large for a baby, at least if compared to a foal, yet he was still so small. His fur was so fluffy and soft, colored a light brown with a grey patch traveling up from the tip of his nose to the space between his eyes. If anyone looked at the child, they’d never be able to think that such a cute thing would some day grow up to be a musclebound minotaur.
“Hello there,” Sara said, speaking softly and with a smile on her tired face, “I’m your mommy.”
The bull child blinked at the woman holding him, lacking understanding for the words being spoken to him, and having even less understanding about the world around him. The only thing it knew was that it felt safe being held by this large thing, and that feeling of safety kept it calm and quiet.
A small bit of applause came from the crowd below, those minotaur keeping an eye on Sara, along with those just passing by who happened to catch the last parts of the process, showing their approval of the birth of another one of their kind into the world. It was a small celebration, but one that Sara appreciated, as it made her feel welcome in the world of the minotaur, despite having been dragged into it for this express purpose.
Looking out at all the bovine faces, many of them seemed to blend into one another, but then she spotted one that stood out among all the rest. That was the face of her master, who was standing close to the edge of the stage, giving a subdued clap with the rest of the crowd. Scylla didn’t know how long he had been there, but for whatever reason he came back to watch the birth of his child. That made Sara happy, that her master had put aside his work to be with her at the moment she became a mother.
At that moment, she was so glad that Rubric had claimed her as his slave and his wife, even if the journey of getting to this point was the worst period of her life. Nearly a year of being kidnapped, abused, raped, tortured, and exploited, one that really hadn’t ended, so much as reached a point where she accepted her fate, but she was still able to find some form of happiness. She may be nothing more than a breeding slave, but she was Rubric’s breeding slave, and as she was trained to think, there was nothing else that she would rather be.
Author's Note
So we have reached the end of this story. It is the first completed story I've ever done where the main focus was an OC, and I must say that while I think the story came out fine, the results were a bit disapointing, but also expected. I assume that most people don't really care about OC stories, unless it's one of the more popular ones it the series fannon, like Button Mash, Flufflepuff, or Little Pip. Still, I'm happy to have made this story to expand a bit on the lore of my setting, and as a personal favor to my main artist, Scylla the Kelpie. I thank them for lending their OC for this story, along with all the others who allowed their OCs to be featured as well.
There will be three more small chapters to come, as a bit of an aftermath for the story to tie up a certain loose end. What that is, you'll have to wait and see. Then again, if you've stuck around this long, I'm sure that's not too much of a problem.
Equestria Trainers' Society: Fish Out of Water
The chiming of a bell sounded, shortly followed by the cheerful announcement of “Welcome to Pathfinder’s! How may I help you?”
“Pathfinder’s” was a store located on a beach on the shores of Vanhoover. It was a quaint establishment, owned and run by a pegasus of whom the store was named after. The store itself was a map making store, which was a great place to stop if one was a tourist, and needed to know of the interesting sights that Vanhoover had to offer. One of the most interesting and unique sights though, lived within the store itself.
Standing behind the counter in a pink t-shirt, blue jean skirt, and white apron, was a mare by the name of Scylla. At a distance, one might mistakenly see Scylla as just a normal pony mare, but with a closer look anyone could tell that she was not an average pony. Unlike other ponies, she didn’t have any fur to speak of, but instead had a layer of rubbery grey skin covering her body. That wasn’t the only difference either, as where normal ponies had tails made of long strands of hair, she had a thick tail of meat that ended with a fin. She had another set of fins on her back, looking a bit like a pair of pegasus wings, and lastly she bore slits on her cheek that were in fact gills for filtering oxygen from water. The only similarities she shared with normal mares was a general shape, and a mane of red hair atop her head.
No, Scylla was not an average pony. She was what was known as a Kelpie, a pony much like a sea pony, but with slight variances. Scylla’s body had no scales, only smooth flesh and webbed areas to help with swimming. She was more like a dolphin than anything else, though lacked certain qualities like a blowhole. Not that the average pony would know that, as kelpies themselves were reclusive creatures who didn’t usually interact with land ponies, preferring to hide away in the water from those unlike themselves.
However, Scylla didn’t share this trait with her species, and was a fairly sociable pony. One could attribute that to Pathfinder, the pegasus who had adopted her at a young age, finding her abandoned near a riverbank with no one else about. Thus, Scylla grew up and adapted to a life around creatures outside of her species, and became one of the many treasures ponies came to Pathfinder’s map shop to see.
“Hello Scylla,” said a mature looking gryphon as she entered the store, “Is Path in?”
Scylla quickly recognized this womanly feline fowl as Anya, another oddity of the town, as she was the only gryphon to reside in Vanhoover. She was a long term friend of the family, having a close relationship with Scylla’s adoptive father.
“Oh! Hello Anya,” she said to the gryphon, slightly embarrassed that she mistook her as just another tourist wanting a map. “Dad’s in the back packing up for the trip.”
“So tomorrow’s the big day, huh?” the gryphon stated, leaning over the counter and placing her elbow atop it, “I bet you’re excited.”
It had been known to most in town that Pathfinder’s was going to be closing down for a while, to allow the two that ran the shop to go on a long vacation.
As Anya assumed, Scylla was very excited about this, but was able to contain her energy inside of her brightly lit, cheerful smile. While Scylla enjoyed her job as a counter clerk, the thought of going away someplace away, where she wasn’t considered a tourist attraction, was appealing. Especially when that place happened to be Haywaii, a small set of islands that was a little bit off the coasts of Equestria, but still within its dominion. The entirety of the islands was suppose to be a large tropical resort, with rumors saying that they dealt with aquatic ponies fairly often, so Scylla wouldn’t have to worry about sticking out like a sore thumb and attracting ponies to her like flies on honey.
That sounded wonderful to Scylla, a time where she would be able to sit back, relax, and have ponies catering to her every need instead of the other way around. Maybe she would even find a stud who could show her a good time on the island, both on the beach and in the sheets. Her eyes practically shimmered with the thoughts flowing through her head about the things she would see and do once she got there.
“Hey Scylla,” Anya said, snapping her fingers in front of the daydreaming kelpie, “You still with me?”
Scylla snapped back into reality, shaking her head to remove the visions of paradise from her eyes. “Sorry, just can’t wait till tomorrow. Me and dad are going to get on a pegashuttle first thing in the morning and be there by noon. Then it’ll be fun, sun, and stallion buns for a whole three months.” She said, picturing more sexy studs in swim trunks in her mind.
“Sounds like a riot,” said Anya, “But before you go, Path’s gotta give me that thing I ordered.”
“Right! I’ll get him right away.” Scylla ran from the gryphon, her tailfin bouncing along and hitting the floor as she practically skipped the whole way.
Heading into a door in the back, Scylla entered the living area of the store. Pathfinder’s, while a place of business, also doubled as Scylla and Pathfinder’s home, of which they had lived for several years. Aside from the store area, the home had two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen, a living room, and a couple of spare rooms that the two used as personal spaces. The room directly connecting to the front half of the building was the living room, and there, standing in between a coffee table and a couch, stood a brown and white pegasus stallion.
This was Pathfinder, the store’s proprietor, and painter by trade. He was an attractive, pretty stallion, with a short cut mane of brown, and lovely green eyes that matched Scylla’s own. Every map in the store was created by his talented hands, though it was Scylla herself who did the legwork for the process, going around and collecting data for Path to go off of. The two made a good pair, as Scylla loved to explore around, and Pathfinder liked illustrating what his adoptive daughter told him about.
Right now though, he was busy trying to stuff one final pair of hoof socks into an already over packed suitcase. Pegasi were more known for athleticism than strength, and Pathfinder was not one the rare few that broke that mold, so he was having an awful time trying to close the clasp on the case.
Seeing his struggle, Scylla rushed to his side and added her own weight to the top half of the luggage, which allowed Path to finally get it closed and locked up tightly.
“Whew” he exclaimed, wiping a bit of sweat off his brow. “Thanks for the help, pumpkin.”
“No problem,” Scylla replied as she removed herself from the case, always happy to be of assistance.
Path gave her a small peck on the forehead, and then asked, “Did you close up the shop?”
“She was about to,” Path heard in response from the doorway to the shop, Anya having followed after the kelpie, “But I came in looking for a certain pegasus who owes me a painting.”
“Right, I got it right over here.” Path said, walking away from the coffee table and to a covered canvas he had lying in the corner. “I thought you’d come for it sooner, almost thought I’d have to wait another three months before handing it over.” Both Anya and Scylla went to the pegasus, and watched as he unveiled what was underneath.
The painting was of a beautiful waterfall, pouring down into a flowing river, with sun rays gleaming down on the water to make it shine. A simple landscape painting of a location not too far away from the shop itself. Anya had wanted the painting to keep, as she didn’t live in Van Hoover herself, and only visited from time to time. The waterfall was one of her favorite spots in the city, so she wanted something to remind her of it, and the two ponies she kept coming around to see.
“It’s wonderful,” Anya said, taking the painting in her claws. “Exactly how I picture it when I close my eyes at home.”
“You should have seen him as he was painting it.” Scylla chimed in, looking over the gryphon’s shoulder, “Dad spent a whole day there trying to get everything right. I had to force him to take breaks for food.”
Path rubbed the back of his head in a coy gesture, “Well it was a request from a friend. How could I half-ass it?”
“Don’t you worry,” Anya said, wrapping her arm around the pegasus’ neck and pulling him closer, “I know that you always put your full ass into everything I want from you.”
Pathfinder blushed, as he and the gryphon had been on and off sexual partners in the past, and he was sure she was making reference to some of their bedroom escapades. It was especially embarrassing that she said something like that in front of Scylla, but what he could see in his peripherals, the sly comment had gone over his daughter’s head, as she didn’t show any signs of acknowledging it.
“Well then,” Anya said, releasing Pathfinder as she grabbed the covering for the painting, wrapping it on the canvas tightly so she could carry it around without worry of damaging the image Path had created on it, “I suppose I’ll have to see you two later. Don’t want to keep you if you’re still packing, since you got to get up early and all.”
“Thanks,” Path said, rubbing his neck a little where Anya had held him, reminding him a little of the times she had made him wear a collar during their tries at pet play. “But feel free to stop by when we get back.”
“Will do,” Anya said back, heading back the way she came in.
“Wait a minute, I’ll help you out the door.” Scylla said, following the gryphon as Pathfinder stayed behind to make sure he packed everything.
The two girls made their way back to the front of the story, and Scylla held the door open from the older woman. “I’m gonna miss you while I’m away.” She said as a parting sentiment.
“I’ll miss you too,” Anya replied, “You look after your father, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, but be sure to have some fun.”
“Of course, it’s a vacation after all. If I didn’t have fun then I would be letting down every store counter clerk in Equestria. I’m going to eat expensive food, flirt around with cute boys, and dance the night away.”
“That’s my Scylla.” said Anya, placing a hand on the kelpie’s mane, and ruffling it up before heading off with her painting tucked under her arm. She only looked back once to see Scylla flip the open sign to closed, and lock the door as she stepped back inside. It was going to be rough not seeing two of her favorite ponies for a while, but they deserved some time off. So letting her emotional attachment go, she opened her wings and took to the sky.
Scylla and Pathfinder were certainly treasures to those who knew them. As with all things of value though, there was always going to be somepony out there looking for a moment when they could seize that treasure for themselves.
Long after the sun had gone down, Scylla was still wide awake in her room. She couldn’t help it, as she was just far too excited to sleep. So instead of lying in bed with her eyes wide open, she decided to do something she felt was more productive, and try on a few of the outfits she had gotten for the trip.
Specifically, she was focusing on what swimsuits she was going to wear on the beach. As an aquatic pony breed, she did have a certain fixation to the water, and enthusiasm for swimming. She wasn’t dependent on it like a whale or a dolphin, and could stay out of water for long lengths of time if need be, but the feeling of liquids flowing over her smooth form was exhilarating. After long periods of absence, it could even have an almost orgasmic feel, as her form was surrounded and embraced by large body of water. She expected the warm, tropical waters of Haywaii to be especially thrilling, and thus wanted to make sure she wore the right outfit to maximize the high she would receive when first touching that salty ocean.
Standing in front of her full body closet door mirror, the kelpie struck a few poses in a modest two piece that was made up of several long length of fabric. The top part was practically just that, a strip of cloth cut a few inches in width and a two feet long, twisted halfway to form two cupping sections, and tied tightly in the back. The bottom part was more of a loincloth bikini, with a length of fabric attached to the waistband of the part that covered her privates, adding additional concealment from onlookers. There was another, similar strap, but it had been cut down the center to allot space for a pony’s tail to poke out and move freely.
Scylla placed an arm behind her head, and blew her reflection a kiss in attempt to be flirtatious, but shortly after she slumped down a bit. She just wasn’t feeling it in this outfit. It was a fine bathing suit, and showed off a lot of her curvy features, but something about it was just off. Perhaps it was just that Pathfinder had picked it out for her, but she couldn’t help feel that it was a little too modest.
“But what if…” Scylla said to herself, starting to form some scandalous thoughts in her mind. In a matter of seconds she slid off the outfit she was wearing, and opened her closet door, diving inside so she could dig around. It didn’t take her long to find a small box hidden in the back of it, to which she brought out with much glee. Taking a look to her bedroom door to make sure it was locked, she slowly opened the box to reveal another swim suit, one that she had gotten herself. With a heavily beating heart, she took this two piece made of black latex out of its container, and closed the door to her closet with her hoof so she could watch herself put it on.
The latex outfit, unlike the cloth one, concealed little of her body. Little strands of silk made up the outlining of the top part, interweaved into the latex straps that crissed and crossed with one another to create a netting that hugged Scylla’s breasts, revealing much of the C-cup sized orbs while covering her nipples and areolas, even if their indent was visibly noticeable. The bikini bottom was pure form fitting latex, covering her crotch and ass little more than a thong would, and had several strips coming off the top that wrapped around her waist, slipping above and below her tail, to come back around and clip to the front.
This outfit made Scylla feel incredibly sexy as she looked herself over, taking moments to do some incredibly flirtatious, provocative, and downright lewd poses that started with bending over to show off some cleavage, lead to her presenting her rump to the mirror, and ended with her cupping a tit while slide her fingers into the space between her crotch and its covering. The poses were all mimicked from a few magazines she had stashed away, ones featuring pony models posing for the camera, knowing that the images would end up in the hands of some pervy stallions.
A part of Scylla greatly enjoyed pretending to be like those mares, while another was incredibly embarrassed over the whole thing. As a young, sexually active woman, her sexuality was at its height. As Pathfinders’ daughter though, her modesty always took precedence. To put it another way, her hormones told her it was fine to act as she did in these private times, while in reality she could never actually do stuff like this in public. She was not a slutty girl, though she did have a few boyfriends in the past that she slept with, and what she did as pretend was just that. While she had went out of her way to purchase this swim suit in secret, and took ample opportunities to try it on, she knew it was the outfit her father picked for that she would be wearing on the island.
Having had her fun with her secret, scantily crafted swimwear, Scylla took it off and boxed it up so she could try on what she would be wearing one last time. While it wasn’t as sexy as she liked, it was a cute two piece, and if she was going to wear it she wanted to make it work. She had to be quick though, as it was already well past midnight, and she certainly didn’t want to be asleep on the first day of her vacation.
Wrapping the top part across her waist again, the kelpie moved to get the bottom part back on, but then suddenly heard a tapping. The noise only distracted her at first, assuming that it was the house making normal house noises, but then the tapping made a musical rhythm that could not have possibly been made without somepony making it. Scylla first tilted her head to the door, thinking it was Pathfinder checking in on her, but then redirected it to the window in her room when she figured out where the sound was really coming from.
What she saw sent a spike of terror down Scylla’s spike, and made her blood run cold like river water. At her window, tapping over and over again, was a vicious looking claw. Was a monster trying to get inside, or some sort of wild animal? No, that was a silly thought. There weren’t any pony-eating animals near Vanhoover, or at least none that made up nests. It wasn’t like the town was next to forest or something silly like that. This made the kelpie’s curiosity grow, so slowly she approached the glass barrier.
Whatever it was though sensed her approach, and before she got close enough it moved away. Scylla wasn’t about to let it get away unseen though, and as quickly as she could, she unlocked her window. Throwing it open, she stuck her head out, looking all about to see where the claw, and the owner of it, ran off. It was hard to see in the dark, with her eyes still acclimated to the brighter setting of her room, and only the moon and stars in the sky providing light outside. However, she did manage to catch a figure slip around the house. The figure, while shadowed, definitely had wings, and a profile that was not of a pony. If she wasn’t mistaken, it looked kinda like a gryphon.
Anya? That was Scylla’s first thought, as no gryphons actually lived in Vanhoover. Did she forget something when she left? She did know where the bedrooms were on the house, and perhaps she was trying to get someone’s attention before they both left. She knew that they would be leaving in the morning, so maybe she just wanted to make sure she didn’t miss them. That was the immediate idea Scylla came up with, and if it were true then it would be best if she went out to see what Anya wanted.
Scylla rushed to her door without hesitation and proceeded through the living area, not pausing for a second as she made her way to the store section of the building. Her curiosity and belief in the safety of the city she lived in was phasing out any danger she could have felt in this situation, and before she knew it, the Kelpie had her hand on the front door’s knob, twisting open the deadbolt while turning the handle so she could exit her abode. Before she could pull the door open though, a hand fell down on top of her own.
“What are you doing?” asked Pathfinder from behind her, having spotted Scylla heading to the front door in when he was heading back to his own room after a midnight bathroom break.
The kelpie jumped a little, not expecting anyone else in the house to be away at this hour. “I… I... “ she stammered, trying to recover from the fright, “There was a gryphon outside-”
“A gryphon?” Path questioned.
“At least I think it was a gryphon. I didn’t get a good look, but It was tapping on my window, and I thought that it might’ve been Anya trying to get in, and…”
Path grew a bit concerned over hearing that some possibly random gryphon was tapping on his daughter’s window. He was not nearly as naive as she was about the dangers of the world, and knew better than to just assume that this was Anya making a house call in the middle of the night. That begged the question, what was some random gryphon, or whatever it was, going around and knocking on the windows of his home?
As safe as Vanhoover was, that didn’t account for every creep or delinquent who decided to wonder in, and Path wasn’t about to just let this slide. “Scylla, you stay in here and lock the door.” said the pegasus, tightening the belt of his house robe. “I’ll see who’s roaming around out there and take care of this.”
Scylla pouted, thinking that her curiosity had caused trouble for her father, but gave him a nod in reply.
“Good girl,” Path said, grabbing a lantern from a nearby wall hook, and giving the kelpie a quick pat on the head. “I’ll be right back, don’t you worry.” With that said, the pegasus stepped outside, and Scylla did as he told her and locked the door behind him before going to the living room to wait for his return.
The second Pathfinder got outside, he felt a cold chill hit his body. He hadn’t expected the night air to have this much of a chill, and was in a hurry to see who this intruder was, so he had left without putting on any warmer clothing. That wouldn’t have been too bad, except that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath his robe.
“Damned hooligans.” he said with a chattering of his teeth as he lit his lantern with a match he pulled from a compartment on the object, blaming whoever was prowling around his property for his small lapse in better judgement.
Once lit, he was on the hunt, ready to shoo off the trespasser. First he made a pass around the house itself, and found that Scylla had left her window opened in her rush to get outside. He closed it for her, and passed on to complete his circuit around the building. He didn’t find anypony, but he did find a few freshly made tracks around. Whoever it was sneaking about was clearly not an experienced prowler, and could have just been someone trying to get a glimpse at the kelpie who lived inside. It wasn’t like Pathfinder hadn’t had to deal with this issue in the past, seeing how curious ponies got when it came to a breed as rarely seen as her, so he could see that being the case, and that they already ran off when they were caught in the act.
It was better to be thorough though, thus he made his way around the house again, this time going away from it a few feet to make a wider circle. Being beach side, his home was a little isolated, and thus there was an ample amount of hiding places among the surrounding foliage. If there was anyone still around, Path would find them, and if there wasn’t, then he would lock up the house tightly in case they came back.
That is what he thought to himself as he took efforts to look around, but eventually he became tired of searching. It was cold, late, and he had to get up early to catch a flight. Frankly, he didn’t need this shit right now, and he decided to head back inside. Just as he turned around though, he heard a noise behind him. Giggling, he believed, from a vaguely female source. Almost simultaneously, this put him both on guard and at ease. He had found the intruder, but it was a girl. That made things a little less threatening in his mind, as even most gryphon females were not so much aggressive, as much as uncaring and rude, Path mentally excluding Anya from that stereotype as he had known her for a long time.
“Okay,” he said aloud, “I’ve think I’ve had enough of your games.” Path took a single step in the direction from which he had heard the sound, slamming his hoof down heavily as he did. The sudden hostile movement caused a bush close by to start shaking, and with that he knew the exact location of who he sought. He went to the bush as quickly as his hooves would take him, and thrust his free hand inside, grasping at whatever he could inside the overgrown vegetation. “I’ve got you now,” the pegasus announced proudly, having no doubt that he would either drag the intruder out, or cause them to run in fear, but after a few seconds of searching something happened that instead filled his heart with dread.
“Click”
The sound came to his ears the same time he felt a metal band wrap around his wrist. He only had enough time to feel his heart sink a little before a force from beyond the shrubbery pulled on his arm, dragging him in with surprising force. The bush scratched at his skin, poking small twigs through his fur as he was wretched inside, and when he came to an abrupt stop, he found himself meeting face to face with a pair of fierce, yellow eyes surrounded by patches of greyish purple.
“Looks like I caught myself a dweeb,” said the female gryphon, extending her wings widely.
“Oh no, wait a minute!” Pathfinder protested, trying to extend his own wings in response, but finding them snagged in the bush he was now trapped in.
The gryphoness gave a powerful beat of her wings, and as Path had expected, this propelled her backwards into the sky. The thing was, she was not going alone, as in her claw she was gripping tightly to the other end of the shackle she had placed on him, so where she went, he was forced to follow. The bush scraped him up badly as he went through it and into the air, only traveling a few feet from the ground, but his departure from the ground was short lived as the gryphon zipped back to the earth, catching the chain linking them together under her foot, and using it the slam him face-down into the dirt.
Pathfinder’s mind raced with three thoughts, the first being who this girl was, the second wondering what she wanted, and the third telling him that he had to ignore the first two quandaries and get out of there. That was going to be hard though with her holding onto that chain, and it didn’t look like she was going to give him a chance to come up with a plan of action before she continued with her own.
Stepping off the chain, the gryphon dragged Path across the ground, to which Path did his best to crawl along to prevent any more damage to his person. While doing so, the pegasus noticed that she was heading over to a tall, but slim tree, and assumed that she intended to use it to entrap his arms by binding around the tree’s base. If that she did that, he would be at the gryphon’s mercy, and he couldn’t allow that to happen. With what little energy he had left in him after that beating, he picked himself up and rammed into the gryphon’s back, hoping the impact would make her release.
He struck with his shoulder just above her rump, catching the feline fowl by surprise, and to Pathfinder’s relief, the girl opened her claw in order to catch herself before hitting the ground. While she was falling down with a shocked yelp, he was going upward with a victorious cry, flying upwards so he could fly to safety. He figured that if he got above the trees, then he’d be able to make it back to his house no problem, and there was no way the gryphon would recover before he did that. A few flaps of his wings is all that it would take, and so he let the adrenaline surge through his body fuel their movements.
Before he could make it to the goal though, a pair of shadows swooped down from the trees Path was trying to get above, and before Path knew it, two more gryphons appeared, both grabbing hold of either of his wings. The force of the flight and the weight of their bodies forced the feathered pony to fall back to the ground, hitting it harder than before to knock the wind right out of Path’s lungs. This was more than just some random intruder causing trouble for kicks. This was a planned out attack, but for what reason, Pathfinder couldn’t even begin to guess.
The two new gryphons, both female like the first, pinned Path down by his wings, painfully sitting on their bones to make sure he didn’t try to take off again. In that position, they then leaned forward to place their claws down on Path’s arms, creating a pseudo-symmetrical image of relaxation as they used the pegasus as a seat and ensured the pony would not be getting up from under their bodies.
As Path, still catching his breath after his plummet, tried to recover, the first gryphon girl got back to her feet. “You stupid pony,” she said, making her feeling towards Path’s escape attempt clear. “All you had to do was come along quietly.” she said, going up to the caught pegasus to tower over his head.
For the first time, Pathfinder got a good look at his first attacker. She was, admittedly, an attractive gryphon. Not in a womanly way, like Anya, but in a more youthful manner. There was a air of ‘danger’ about her, as if her very presence exuded hostility. Maybe it was her leather jeans that gave this illusion, or the brown leather jacket that she had partially zipped down to show off her feathered chest, exposing an ample area that would be considered cleavage on a pony. Perhaps it was the way she wore her head feathers, allowing them drape over her forehead like bangs, or maybe it was just the fact that she just kicked Pathfinder’s ass without any provocation. Whatever it was, she let it be known that she one girl whose cross-hairs your didn’t want to be caught in.
She further pressed this point by lifting a leg and stepping one of her pawed feet down on Path’s face, grinding her heel into his muzzle. “Now I’m gonna have to rough you up a little to show ya who’s in charge.”
“Don’t hurt him too much Gilda,” said one of the girls on Pathfinder’s back, “You know our boss will want a pretty boy like this to be brought home unbruised.”
“Not that a little punishment isn’t in order…” said the other, twirling one of her fingers around in Path’s mane until a single strand was lassoed around it, to which she gave a hard tug, pulling it right out from his scalp.
The first gryphon, obviously named Gilda, considered what her collages were saying, and removed her foot. “Breezie, Winda, bring him over to the tree. We’re going to get a better look at the catch of the day.”
The two other gryphons, of whom Path could see when being picked up were a pair of twins, did as Gilda told them, taking the pegasus over to the tree and, as Pathfinder expected, binding his arms so he was hugging the tree. In this position, tired and battered as he was, he was helpless to the small pack of predatory femme fatales.
“So, what are you gonna do to me?” Path asked, “I don’t have anything worth robbing, and I’m not worth any kind of ransom money.”
“Ransom? You sure have a wild imagination,” stated one of the twins, the one he assumed was Breezie.
“Well he’s not too far off though,” said Winda in a correcting manner.
“Quiet, both of you,” scolded Gilda, “This femcolt bitch doesn’t need to know anything until we bag him up.”
“Hey!” Path shouted, taking offense to being called a femcolt. His attractive, ‘pretty’ features were something of a sensitive topic for him, as more than once it had caused a few troubles with stallions who had assumed incorrectly that he was a mare.
“You be quiet too,” Gilda said, turning her attention back to the pony. At first Path took to staring her down in response, but as Gilda glared back to him, she suddenly made a grab with her claws. Heading downwards, he was confused where she was heading, but then he felt her grip his stallionhood. In all the adrenaline pumping excitement, his cock had formed into an erection without his knowledge, and was currently poking out from his now disheveled house robe. “I’d hate to have to do something to this that you’ll regret later.”
Pathfinder froze, as almost any stallion would when razor sharp claws were wrapped around their most precious and sensitive appendage. The gryphon had him, almost literally, by the balls, and the pegasus had no doubt that she would deliver on her threat if he ticked her off.
“Here is all you need to know for now.” Gilda continued, squeezing down tightly on the meat rod in her grip. “Somepony has taken an interest in you and your pet fish. We were hired to take you both to her, and you don’t have any say on whether you’re going or not.”
Pathfinder clenched one of his eyes in pain, feeling the blood being squeezed out of his stiff shaft. “P-pet fish?” he questioned, not getting the gryphon’s meaning in the heat of the moment. At least not immediately, but after a few seconds it clicked. “No, whatever this has to do with me, you leave Scylla out of-”
Pathfinder was cut off as he felt a sharp pain go into his neck. No more than a pin prick, the pegasus understood that he had been injected with something. Slowly but surely, his vision began to blur, and he started to find it very hard to keep his eyes open. One of the twins had drugged him while he was distracted, and there was no avoiding whatever would happen to him next. He could only pray that Scylla would not end up the same way, and would be able to get some help.
Back at Pathfinder’s store, Scylla sat patiently on the living room couch for her father’s return. She was completely oblivious to what had happened to him outside, having only heard the muffled sounds of him yelling through the walls, and assumed it was just him telling off whoever it was he had found. All she really figured out at this point was that the gryphon she saw couldn’t have been Anya.
Because of this, she was blissfully unaware of what was happening to what was happening to Pathfinder, but now was worried that some stranger was tapping on her bedroom window. It was unnerving, to say the least, and had her more than a little creeped out. It made her think unsettling thoughts like “How long had they been there watching her?” and “What if they had tried something when she poked her head out the window?”.
“Wait a minute…” Scylla said to herself quietly, thinking about her exact actions when she had went to open the door. In her hurry, she had left her window opened, and thus left the house insecure.
With it like that, locking the front door was practically pointless. She would have to rectify that immediately. Scylla picked herself up from the couch to go back to her room, going at a leisurely pace as she was still not too concerned at this point. When she opened the door though, she discovered just how wrong she was to feel as safe as she did.
“Ow!” She heard when opening the door, the sound accompanied by the feeling of resistance as the door only opened a little bit. Scylla herself froze on the spot at the realization that there was not only someone in the house, but in her very room. Unbeknownst to her, Pathfinder had closed her window, but he couldn’t lock it from the outside, so someone was still able to push it back open and climb inside.
Next thing Scylla knew, a claw grabbed the door and pulled it open the rest of the way, revealing that not one, but two gryphon males had made their way inside. The closest one held the door, as well as his bruised beak, while the other one was holding back a snicker caused by his partner’s pain.
“Damn bitch,” said the one closest as he rubbed his mouth.
“Don’t be that way Talon,” said the other, still chuckling under his breath. “She didn’t do it on purpose. Did you sweetie?”
Scylla didn’t know what to say or do in this situation. The kelpie had never encountered someone so brazen as to break into another pony’s home before. She didn’t run though, as she knew that if she did she could be easily caught if these two wanted to catch her. Besides, there was something menacing in the way the second gryphon spoke to her that made Scylla feel numb.
“Y-you two had better leave...” She spoke out in a near whisper, looking to the floor as she held onto one of her arms, “My father will be back any minute and-”
“Don’t you worry about him,” the one named Talon said. “A few of our friends have got him.”
“Got him?” Scyla squeaked out, her concern rapidly rising.
“What he means to say is that your father has been caught and restrained so that we can have some alone time with you uninterrupted.” the second gryphon clarified.
“Please, don’t hurt him!” Scylla immediately pleaded, not wishing any harm to come to Pathfinder.
“Don’t be afraid,” The second gryphon said, coming up to the kelpie and gently placing his claw under her chin, forcing her eyes upward to meet his. “We are forbidden to hurt our targets unless they resist, but you’re not going to do that, are you?”
Scylla tried to aim her eyes back to the ground, but when she did the gryphon just tilted her head up more to compensate. He wanted an answer, and he wanted Scylla to look at him as she said it. “N-no, I won’t resist… So please don’t hurt us.”
“Good,” The gryphon replied, then tilting his head back to Talon, “Start getting things set up for delivery.”
Talon grumbled, but reached into a pouch on his belt to pull out a rather sizeable net, and proceeded to spread it out across the floor.
“A-are… are you kidnapping me?” Scylla asked, not so naive to not understand what was happening.
“Very observant,” said the nameless gryphon, reaching into his own side pouch to withdraw a set of shackles. “Yes, we are kidnapping you, as well as your father.”
“But why?” Scylla asked, watching the gryphon go behind her, and then feeling him bind her arms behind her back.
“Tell you what,” said the gryphon, “You’re being such a good girl that I’ll tell you.”
“Griff…” Talon said, questioning his partner’s judgement.
“It’s fine, she’s not going anywhere.” Griff reassured as he placed a second pair of shackles on Scylla’s ankles, “You see we work for a special group of ponies who like to abduct and enslave others of their kind. ‘The Equestria Trainers’ Society” they like to call themselves.”
“Equestria… Trainers’ Society?” Scylla questioned, of course having no clue about this organization.
“Yes,” Griff said, slipping a talon into the back of both pieces of Scylla’s bikini, and with a single motion, cut through them both to cause them to fall right off his captive’s body.
Scylla, sensing that she had been disrobed, let out an “EEEEEEE!” in dismay, and curled up a little while standing in attempt to cover her nudity.
Griff laughed at her response, and picked up the pieces of her swimsuit, “You see, Scylla, somepony has taken an interest in both you and your father, and thus you are both now officially property of The Society. Me and my friends are going to crate the two of you up, and ship you off to a secret location where you’ll be trained as slaves.”
“Slaves?!” Scylla yelled out, only to have the bottom part of her bikini shoved into her muzzle and tide around her head with the parts Griff had cut apart before.
“Yes, slaves.” Griff confirmed, placing the bikini top around her eyes to use as a blindfold, “Probably sex slaves, but that’s up to them once you get there.”
Now bound, gagged, and blindfolded, Scylla had lost all semblance of of control she might have had.She couldn’t try calling for help, running away, or watching for an opportune moment to do such things to arise. She was only left to helplessly tremble as these gryphons did what they would, which from the sounds of it would lead to Scylla and her father being sent to a labor camp. Even worse was the possibility that her abductors might rape her, which was the last thing that she wanted.
As all these terrible thoughts raced through her mind, Griff placed a hand on her shoulder, directing the kelpie in the center of the net. His employer had been very specific with the method of capture for Scylla. She was to be caught in a net, to go with a theme relating to her aquatic species. Griff personally thought it was silly, but he couldn’t complain about the money.
“On your knees.” he said, to which Scylla abided, dropping down so she sat on her lower legs. “Good girl, now you’re going to feel a small prick, and then you are gonna go to sleep.”
Looking over to Talon, the other gryphon was preparing a syringe, removing its protective cap and pressing the plunger down to ensure no air would be injected into their target’s veins. Once sure it was safe, he went to the kelpie and stuck the needle into her jugular, giving her a full dose of tranquilizers inside.
Scylla instantly felt herself go woozy, and even in the darkness created by her blindfold, she could tell she was becoming unbalanced. The last thing she heard before passing out was Griff saying to her. “Everything is going to be fine. Don’t think of this as enslavement. Just think of it as a vacation.”
Author's Note
Hello there loyal readers, Schorl here again. Nice to see you all here again, at the start of a new story. Another ... new story. As the more observant of you might have noticed, I have been starting up quite a few new stories as of late, which is odd since I have two unfinished stories that have been sitting in wait at the moment. Well... I do have a bit of an explanation for that, which will be the topic of today's notes.
Let's begin with the first story I left on hiatus, "EqTS: Recruitment". It is a story that I had gotten deep in, and was meant to show the recruitment process of the Society through the eyes of a unicorn name "Blank Slate". I had made quite a bit of progress through the story, but at one point I felt kinda stuck. I don't know why exactly, but perhaps it was because I had been overworking myself.
Which then leads to my second postponed story "FoE: Weak and Powerless". A story of Trixie having to re-acclimate herself in a world recovering from a group of ravaging barbarians. I really like the idea of writing about a PTSD Trixie, and have a pretty good (in my opinion) plotline planned for it, but then my "anniversary" for a certain important event happened, and I went straight into writing out "FoE: Meet Thy Maker" from start to finish.
After that I made a chapter for a story called "FoE: Legacy of Dainn" to tell the story of what came from the events of Meet Thy Maker, and introduce a new character that is dear to my heart.
And now we have this story, one featuring an OC of one of my online friends, and current cover art illustrator. But why? Well to be blunt, a while back I promised Scylla a cameo in EqTS, as I often do for many bronies with their OCs. Well then I started doing the other stories listed above, and putting it off and putting it off until my guilt for delaying got the better of me. So I started talking with Scylla, and eventually I came to the idea that instead of having her just be a cameo, that it might be a nice idea to create an actual story around her.
I came up with a interesting and useful way to depict her time in the Society, with Scylla's help, and now we are not only planning a story featuring prominently, but have also set up a series of images to be made and released along side the chapters as they are released.
Fans of the other stories, do not worry though. While I will be focusing on this story for a while, I WILL get back to them, in time. I just want to focus on something that I think will get me back into the swing of writing a Society story (as I have focused too long on FoE), and believed it has been too long since I have done an EqTS story anyways. Like I said though, I do intend to finish all my currently open projects, at the very least, and unless something terrible happens to me, I promise not to disappoint anyone interested in them.
Just please bear with me, and forgive my scatter brained methods of story writing
Equestria Trainers' Society: Fish Out of Water
Both Scylla and Pathfinder winced and yelped as they felt the sharp sting of the needles piercing their skin, entering their bodies at the soft spots that were their O-rings. The pain was enough to make them try to get up, but the deer atop them were ready for this and placed their arms on the ponies’ shoulders, applying all the weight they had to keeping them in place.
Xenia pushed down the plungers on the syringes, shooting the fluids they held into the two ponies, before taking them out to grab another set she had close by. With these ones she aimed for both of the ponies’ genitals, sticking one into Pathfinder’s swollen urethra, and the other into Scylla’s moistened pussy lips.
For the two ponies, this experience was short, but agonizing. Even as the needles were removed, they could still feel the presence of the thin cylinders of metal. Not only that, but they felt the flowing of a foreign substance inside them. Not the liquid itself exactly, but the effect it was causing to their bodies. A spreading sense of ‘change’ was going through their rectums. Nothing identifiable, but still noticeable. That itself was cause for concern, as they were starting to become very aware of their insides. It was like the nerves inside the fleshy tunnels were brought to an awakening, and things that their brain would usually push to the back of it’s recesses were suddenly brought to the forefront.
As for their genitals, Pathfinder quickly learned that his penis was no longer going to allow the table beneath him to hold it back. It wanted, no, needed to be fully erect, and every second it wasn’t was causing the pegasus great discomfort as his solidified shaft bent in ways it would not tolerate. Path lifted his rear end up to allow his cock the freedom of movement it required, sliding the doe on his back forward in the process, but as soon as his dick shot into place he felt a rather firm pillow being slid underneath his stomach. It was comfortable enough that he could rest on it, but solid enough that he couldn’t return to the flat position he had been laying in, which forced him to keep his rump up as if he were presenting it.
Scylla on the other hand felt her pussy becoming much like her ass had, with her suddenly becoming very aware of what was going on in her vaginal passage, and what was going on was a steady flowing of liquids from her depths. She didn’t need help from the injection to know she was getting wet down there though, as she had been that way for a while now. Ever since the stags made her orgasm, her juices hadn’t stopped, and she wasn’t sure why. Her body was feeling unbearably hot, and her heart was beating so rapidly that she could feel it pounding. It felt like she was in heat, though a worse onset of it than she had ever felt before.
All she really knew was that the stuff that had been injected into her wasn’t helping things one bit. With it, she could feel every droplet seeping from her pussy, detecting the very path it was being traveled with detail she never could before. If she closed her eyes she could envision it, like it was a stream of calmly running water in the picture she formed in her mind.
“What did you do to us?” Path asked as all the deer removed themselves from the two ponies, and moved a small distance away.
“I injected you both with a few chemical cocktails made to enhance your bodies’ ability to feel and adapt to what is about to come. Lady Tourmaline said the shot was required for the kelpie, but since you wished to share her experiences…”
“I get it,” Path said as he squirmed about, understanding well that he had brought this on himself, “But what is this it doing to us?”
“Increasing the sensitivity of your nerves, dulling pain receptors while enhancing pleasure receptors, making your holes… um… stretchy.”
No longer covered in does, Pathfinder turned onto his back to look at Xenia face to face. “What do you mean stre-” he said mid turn, stopping when he caught sight of something other than an empty needle the deer woman had in her hands. She held in her grasp two rather large hoses, each with an odd nozzle at the end of it. Leaning over to his side to peer over the edge of the massage table he was atop of, Pathfinder followed his namesake and trailed the hose back to its source, happening upon a strange machine at the end.
The machine had been pulled over on a set of wheels on the bottom it, apparently having been brought over in silence as the other deer did their tasks. The device itself looked to be in the shape of a cupcake, fat and cylindrical at the bottom with a domed top. On the sides of the device was a number of switches, gauges, crystals, and three hose looking contraptions, all leading away from the device, but with path only really able to see where the one closest to the side of the table he was on ended up. Out of the dome of the device stuck out several glass containers, each containing a strange greenish blue goop inside.
“What are you doing with that?” Pathfinder asked, afraid of the answer he would be receiving.
“This?” Xenia replied, licking the nozzle of the hose, “I’m going to stick it in your ass.”
Those eight words shot terror though Pathfinder’s being. He was never a fan of anal, or the idea of something going into that hole instead of going out. That was all he had to hear to begin to panic, and lose any want to comply with this treatment.
He tried to roll off the table, but the moment he attempted it the deer were back upon him. Not the does this time, but the stags. They used their combined strength to hold him down, to position him back on the structure, long enough to place a leather binding strap around his waist that pinned the pegasus back down to the table, but it didn’t stop there. The group of bucks forced his appendages into odd positions, starting with his legs by making them go backwards so his ankles were placed near his head. His arms were then sent downwards, between his thighs, so his wrists rested on either side of his balls and his erect dick stuck out between his forearms.
Now in the spots the deer wanted them to be, the does came back to take up the shackles attached to the table. One by one, they attached the cuffs at the end of the chains to the opposite appendages they were supposedly made for, the ones near the front of the table snapping onto Pathfinder’s ankles, while the ones at the foot were locked around his wrists. This trapped him into the pose the stags had placed him in, his body forming an awkward ‘X’ with his four limbs, and his butt resting atop the firm pillow that his tail draped over, and his ass was pointing upwards at an angle.
“Again, I do apologize, but this must be done.” Xenia said, gripping one of Path’s ass cheeks, using it to spread the entrance to the stallion’s ass open as she slowly and precisely brought the hose towards it.
“N-no, stop! Don’t!” Pathfinder screamed, in pure fear of his rump being penetrated. He shook and squirmed, flailed and flapped, but all it did was make Xenia’s target all the more enticing.
She couldn’t help but stick her tongue out the side of her mouth, running across her lips as she savored the flavor of this moment. There was something special about poking the supple rump of a pretty boy stallion, and Path was fairly cute for a stallion his age. If Xenia were to hazard a guess to this pony’s fate in The Society, then he was in for some training as a twink. Quite a few male members of the organization liked having guys like Path as their pleasure slaves, and dressing them up as girls to add to the humiliation of being forced into the role. Same went for the mares of The Society, who sometimes took a fancy to having around a ‘girl’ that was more than she seemed, or enjoyed making her male slaves fuck one another. Whatever Path’s role was to be though, it didn’t matter here. Be he trained as a twink or not, he was getting the hose up his ass.
With a press of the device against the soft, circular entrance to his rectum, Xenia started wiggling it into its destination. Though Path fought and clenched as tightly as he could, the chemicals she had shot into the pegasus earlier helped her when getting inside, as they allowed the flesh hole to stretch out, which reduced the resistance the passage gave her when she pushed.
Little by little, the metal end of the hose worked its way inside, eventually slipping in as it finally bypassed the barrier separating Path’s insides from the outside world. Pathfinder vocally bemoaned the deer woman’s accomplishment, letting out actual tears as he felt his O-ring contract around the plastic cylinder that had snaked its way past his defenses. He wanted to grab hold of the hose to remove it, but his hands were bound so they were just out of reach.
As all of this unfolded, it had been observed by Scylla, who had become even more terrified from the… she wanted to say brutality of it all, but that seemed a bit much. Except for causing discomfort to her father by shoving something up his flank, the deer didn’t exactly hurt him. Still, it was scary to see the pony she always believed would protect her treated thusly. It was all the more incentive to not try her own escape attempt, as if they could do that to Pathfinder, she believed she would stand little chance herself.
That, and she couldn’t help but feel as if she couldn’t move from the spot she was on, even if she wanted to. With the presence of the ever increasing horniness she felt, which still persisted as she watched her father be violated, she felt rather weak. She could move, but not in the manner she usually could. The slightest movement would be exhausting, and her reactions were slowed. It was as if all her energy was being poured into her sexual processes.
Because of this, she offered no resistance when Xenia lifted her tail, and slid the second hose into her own pert little butt. She did release a loud gasp though, as the feeling was not nearly as painful as she thought it would be. There was a bit of a pinching sensation, but that was just because her ass was being stretched out a bit too far. Otherwise, the insertion felt… well not good, but not especially painful. The best way to describe it was that it felt weird.
“There we go,” Xenia said with a pat of Scylla’s butt, “You took that very well.”
“T-thank you…” Scylla said in fear of what might happen if she said otherwise,
“And so polite too. You’re father must have done a wonderful job raising you.”
“Rrrrrr… Shut the fuck up you bitch!” Path yelled, not quite over being anally violated.
Xenia crossed her arms at the stallion, “Hmmm…. Perhaps not.” As quickly as she crossed her arms together, she uncrossed them after commenting on Path’s behavior so she could clasp her hands together in elation. “But no need to dwell on that. We need to finish up your preparations.”
The deer woman bent down to the floor, slipping beyond Pathfinder’s sight for a split second before reappearing with a rod in her hand. Not just a normal rod though. This was a very phallic rod made of what looked to be… glass? No, it was a crystal of some sort, with any and all sharp sides sanded away till all that was left was a smooth cylinder of transparent, topped off with a rounded bulb. There was little misunderstanding of what this was. It was a dildo made of pure gemstone.
The material it was made of made the object an eccentric sex toy, to say the least, but there was more to it than that. Attached to the bottom of the crystal was a hose like the one Path saw before on the machine, connected by a metal piece that cupped the bottom of the cylinder. Maybe it wasn’t a hose though, but instead a wire of sorts, as it looked smaller in diameter than the tubes residing inside him and Scylla. Perhaps the purpose of it was just to make sure the dildo didn’t get lost, but that seemed too mundane of a function for something so elaborately crafted.
Pathfinder watched Xenia give the crystal a once over, and rub it against her fur a few times to polish it up. “Ok, here we go.” She announced, “Try to relax, this should only take a few minutes.”
“What will take a few minutes?!” Path said, incapable of following the deer’s instructions. Not when the possibility of further anal invasion was in his immediate future.
Xenia did not answer though, not seeing the need to do so when showing him would be much more enlightening, and ‘enlightening’ was an ept way of describing what happened next.
With the object in hand, Xenai re-positioned it between her slender thighs, aiming the bulb of it directly were one would expect a woman to point a phallic piece of polished petalite. Aimed at her lower lips, she took a few short breaths to brace for the imminent insertion of the crystal, before shoving it partially inside of herself with little caution. What happen next both surprised and amazed the pegasus, who had locked his eyes on her form while awaiting what she would do, as when the object went in, the deer began to literally glow.
Many blueish, lines of illumination spontaneously appeared all over her body, crossing and interweaving with one another to form an intricate pattern, like a strange tribal tattoo. Whatever this glow was though, it was not contained to her form, and from his pinned position Path could see the section of the crystal poking out of her go from transparent, to filled with a more concentrated form of the light covering the doe. It didn’t stop there either, as once the light in the crystal reached a certain intensity, the glow began to flow into the cord attached to it, traveling it down two lanes that spiraled down the cord,
The glow continued like this until it reached all the way back to the device, wherein it spread across it in a similar pattern as that covering Xenia. This brought it to life, causing it to quiver and whir loudly. By itself, that was enough to scare Pathfinder into a cold sweat, but then he felt some activity happening from inside his rectum.
Scylla showed signs of feeling this as well, looking back at her butt the best she could, and reaching her hand towards it before being grabbed by Xenia. “Don’t fidget,” The deer said gently, “Just let it do its work.”
“But it’s…. Grrrooowwwiinnnggg.” Scylla whined, not at all enjoying what was happening inside her.
She wasn’t mistaken either by what was going on, as a part of the nozzles inside the ponies were inflating. A circular tubing wrapped around the base of the hose ends that blew up like a balloon, increasing its size to an extent that felt like it far surpassed the limits of the intestines they were wedging themselves into. Path and Scylla winced and groaned as their insides were forced to make room, until finally the object ceased, and allowed them a moment to relax and adapt.
Of course, Path couldn’t truly relax, as his ass now had within it the largest thing it ever held. The size alone was enough to let loose a string of bemoaned sounds filled with agony, with his tailhole feeling like it had been stuffed with a baseball, but what he dreaded more was what was to come. This could not be the end of it, that he was sure of.
How he loathed being right in this case too, as after a solid minute passed, the machine started whirring again, and a warm sensation was noticed as it filled up his flesh tunnel. “Wha- What are you doing to -uugghh!” Path tried to speak, but the feeling inside him was overwhelming his ability to focus on anything else, even the ability to complete a line of thought.
The hose, stuffed in as it was, were shooting some sort of gunky slime into him so hard that it splashed against his insides in a viscous ‘splat’ that he swore he could hear through his body. If having to feel this within his guts wasn’t enough to completely disgust him, he also had a unobstructed view of the process in action, as the hose going into Scylla spasmed and pulsed in ways that made it look as if the tubing were alive.
“What you have pouring in you,” Xenia said while watching the vials of greenish blue goo slowly ooze down into the machine, “Is a substance I invented a few years after being enslaved.”
“Years?!” Pathfinder grunted out, not expecting this organization of slavers to have been around so long. If they were a newer group, the odds of them being caught was likely, but if they could stay out of the eye of the royal guard for years, then that didn’t bode well for him and Scylla.
Xenia ignored the pegasus’ shocked declaration though, and continued with what she was saying. “I call it ‘Decomposition Gel’, and it has some very interesting properties. To explain it in detail, it takes nonliving, organic matter and causes it to break down rapidly into gas. It then absorbs said gas, in order to leave your insides nice and clean. I’ve even got it to leave behind a refreshing, minty fragrance. I guarantee that you’ve never had a cleaner flankhole.”
“That… Sounds really… Dangerous…” Path struggled to say, feeling an ever building pressure inside him, the semi-solid fluid pouring more and more inside his innards, filling up to capacity and beyond.
“Not at all. You could take a bath in the stuff and all it would do is remove your hair and any calluses you had, If you had any necrotic flesh inside you, there might be a small problem, but you’d be better off having that removed anyways.”
The deer’s explanations of how safe the gel was gave the stallion little comfort as he reached his assumed limits. Clenching with all his might in vain attempt to push some of the substance out, he found it impossible with the nozzle inflated as it was. It took little time for his intestines to swell up from how full they had become, and shortly after that his stomach started to bloat outwards. He felt like he was going to burst, but for some reason his anal tunnel was stretching out more than he could have imagined.
Scylla, suffering from the same condition, had to bring herself to all fours so not the have her expanding belly press against the table they were atop of, making heavy pants for air from the pain the pressure was causing. With her lower abdomen poking out a little, it gave the appearance that she was slightly pregnant, as if she was just starting to show. A welling of tears in her eyes made it evident to Path that she was not taking this as well as he was, and it made him hope even more that this ended soon, for both their sake.
As if answering his wish, the machine did finally stop, the whirring silencing as the device ran out of gel. Again, the two ponies were given a brief time to adjust to their newly acquired discomfort. Pathfinder never felt so full down there, and as he laid in his oddly angled bondage, he could feel the gel doing… whatever it was it did to the daisy and carrot salad he ate for lunch yesterday. As the remainder of that dissolve into nothingness, it didn’t make the pegasus feel as if any more room had been made in him though.
“Good, good, the process will only take ten to twenty minutes to complete, then we can empty you out and send you on your way.” Xenia said, still covered in her glowing lines and symbols.
“T-this.. Really hurts miss…” Scylla said weakly, everything that had happened to her taking its toll.
“Well then, I can do something to take your mind off it if you’d like.”
“Yes… please…” Scylla replied.
Pathfinder instantly knew that was a mistake, but could say nothing before the doe shot her hand forward, taking hold of Scylla’s labia within her fingers. “Then just relax, and I’ll grant you a delightful orgasm.”
“H-hey…” Path tried to interject in protest, still finding it difficult to say anything.
“Don’t worry, I remember your request.” Xenia replied, snatching up Path’s cock in her other hand. It was still hard and rigid, not having settled at all since it was sucked on by one of the other does. The flesh that made the outer layer around the meat rod though had become soft and malleable however, like puddy in the palms of this deer.
Xenia pressed down her thumb on Path’s urethra, while pushing apart Scylla’s pussy lips, ready to show off one of her talents. She motioned the hand wrapped around Pathfinder’s shaft up and down, stroking it at a steady pace, paying special attention in stimulating his swollen jizz passage. At the same time, she stuck the middle and ring finger of her other hand into Scylla’s wet pussy, keeping it spread with her pointer and pinkie. In a display of ambidexterity, she moved both her hands to masturbate the two ponies, jerking off the stallion and fingering the mare simultaneously.
Pathfinder tried to resist. Tried to struggle against the deer, but every motion disturbed the gel inside his bowels, reducing his struggles to nothing more than shudders and groans brought on by pain. Helpless as he was, he could do little more than lay back and let biology take its course. In his mind, he could say he hated this, but the wants of flesh would always conquer that mind. Soon he would be brought to climax, and it would be undeniably pleasurable. Pleasurable, however, did not necessarily mean enjoyable.
“Ugh… Uhh… AAHHHH!!” Path let loose a final string of grunts, and released a blast of sperm from his dick onto his stomach. The white gunk pooled in his fur, sticking to everything it splattered against. Having cum on his belly wasn’t a completely unfamiliar feeling for Path, having masturbated plenty of times, and often in the afterglow he let his semen rest on his body and seep into his fur. This time though, it felt off.
It was like his cum was… thicker, more viscous, and much more in quantity. Most solid than liquid, causing a string of the substance to lead from the white blob on him back to his dick hole. He could even feel the string go down his urethra, and if it were flicked, he would feel it go all the way to his balls. It had to have something to do with the injection the deer gave him, as that was not something the pegasus would consider normal.
“AAAAaaAAaaaAAAA!!!” And as if to keep her promise to have the two feel the same things, the deer made Scylla cum shortly after Path. Scylla let it be known throughout the spa area that she had came, and following her father’s example she let loose a torrent of sexual fluids. It was the second time in less than an hour that she gushed this way, and it and the gel enema was taking their toll on her stamina. Exhausted, she fell forward, resting on her face and chest so not to cause more pressure on her guts, leaving her rump stuck up in the air.
The deer, amused by the physical satisfaction of these two, brought her hand now soaked in feminine fluids to her lips, and tasted of the aquatic mare’s fluids. She licked her digits thoroughly, lapping up as much as she could, turning her attention to the pegasus once finished.
Going to his side, the deer span a finger around the sperm thread connecting the splattering on Path’s stomach to his penis, snapping it off from both while wrapping it around the digit. Not wasting a second after this, Xenia shot the cum covered finger into her mouth, slurping on the semen as if it were a sucker. The moans of delight she make told of the pleasure she was feeling, and made Path start to question how against her enslavement the deer truly was.
Xenia popped the finger out of her mouth, saying “Not bad” in reference to the pegasus’ taste.
The chemicals she had injected into his dick had reached to his testicles, and cause them to churn out a rather large quantity of sperm, as well as caused the substance to become thick and gelatinous, as if he had been storing it for some time. The result was fairly amusing, but the science behind it wasn’t so much, as what was really happening was that his balls were producing semen at such a high rate that the sexual organs weren’t getting enough water to them. The sperm soup it created was something the members enjoyed seeing plastered over the bodies of the slaves, or slathered across their sheets after an intense, passionate session of rape.
Xenia knew that this form of dehydration was not healthy if done too often, but every once in a while couldn’t hurt. Besides, seeing the way a cock spasmed when shooting out that gunk, and how the testicles went into overtime to fill their flesh housing after just being emptied more than made up for it. Even after just having came, the pegasus’ sack was a plump ball of of cum ready to burst in a shower of satisfaction, and all it would take to set it off would be something as simple as patting it a bit too hard with her hands. She knew this because she had done it many times before, to the men of her race during their time being tamed and trained… and to stallions going through the same process. The processes of biology were simply astounding, and likewise undefiable.
“That should be enough.” Xenia said, allowing her magic to die down. Her glow dampened, her tattoos faded, and with them dissipating the large bulbs deflated.
Knowing what would happen, the other deer who had stood aside till now rushed over, readied with buckets and rags in hand. The positioned themselves around the ponies, unbinding Pathfinder and bringing his bottom half to the edge of the table, as they prepared for what was to come next. At first it happened slowly, the gel coming out of the mare and the stallion in small squirts, as much as could slip through the nearly created void between the hose nozzle and the inner walls of the ponies, but eventually the hose itself was forced from the ponies’ rectums, followed by a torrent of the blue-green substance.
The deer did everything they could to help with this ordeal, keeping the decomposition gel from spilling everywhere and making a mess, using the rags to clean up any excess gel that threatened to touch fur, and keeping the holes open to allow longer periods of evacuation, which greatly decreased the time needed to deflate them both. As Xenia had explained though, nothing but the gel exited the ponies bodies, all other biodegradable material held within having been completely disintegrated by the substance, leaving behind only the goo and a minty scent.
As path and Scylla endured this final part of their processing, Xenia removed the crystal dildo from within her, placing it gently on the floor, and begun stepping around the table. “You both did very well for a first time.” she said, truly impressed that they didn’t scream once, and stopping in front of Scylla, she added “Especially you.”
Usually only her kind were that resilient to this sort of treatment that they could endure the pressure with more than a groan, at least on a first experience, and that was after a long series of ‘adjustments’ done to them. She started making hypothesis’ on how the kelpie’s anatomy might have helped with this. The pegasus on the other hand, she could only attribute will power or prior experience to. Either way, she really wanted to experiment with these two more in the future, to test her theories… and how far this endurance went.
The curiosity led into infatuation, and as if compelled to do so, the deer woman took Scylla’s head in her hands. Bending over, she planted a kiss on the mare’s lips, pleased to find they had a similar rubbery feel like the rest of the kelpie’s body. She wanted to explore further, and so she did, forcing her tongue into the mouth of the other female, searching every crevice with it.
Scylla, feeling too tired from all that had happened to her to fight back, let it happen. It was the first time she was ever kissed by another girl so thoroughly, as just like her father Scylla was strongly cemented in the fact that she was straight, but she found this no more scary or upsetting than anything else before it. It was a good thing that she hadn’t paid as much attention to her father as he did her though, else she might have been able to tell that the strange flavor on the doe’s tongue was actually the remnants of his semen, transferred to her taste buds through tongue to tongue contact.
“Having fun there slave?”
Xenia jumped a bit as these loud, gruff words sounded in her direction, recognizing instantly that she was the one being referred to, despite her name not being said. She broke the kiss off so fast that a small bit of spittle flew out into the air between them, and stood up straight with her arms down her side, tits jutting out from her white coat as if being presented.
The ground trembled lightly as two minotaur approached, two who were not the same ones as the ones that delivered Pathfinder and Scylla to the spa room. One sporting a sizable pot belly, while the other one looked to have a chipped left horn. Neither of them looked any less mean than the previous pair though.
This was something they quickly proved too, as when Xenia tried to greet them, arms spread out and bending one leg like she did before, they didn’t care in the least that she was showing her respects. Before she even finished, the pot bellied one snatched her up by the waist, his massive hand able to wrap three-fourths the way around her, while his muscular arm was capable of lifting her light frame up with ease. The doe could hardly let out a yelp before she was tossed unceremoniously between Path and Scylla, body face down on the table with her legs dangling over the side.
“Masters, please, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting!” Xenia pleaded as the other deer huddled up together, quivering in the presence of the new minotaur. “I was just about to fin-AAAHHHHSSSHHH!!!”
The doe’s howl was very much warranted, as while she was busy coming up with excuses, the minotaur with the rounded belly was busy undoing a button on his pants. Undoing it opened up a flap in front, and released his cock, which was monstrous in comparison to an average stallions, and would even dwarf that of a well endowed one. By the end of her second sentence, he hard gotten it hard and was already pushing the head of his cock into Xenia’s pussy.
Despite her small body, the doe was able to take the bull’s fence post of a dick inside her with relative ease. She was moaning her head off, only taking breaths to further extend the audible expression of dismay. The minotaur had to pull her into his shaft as he pushed, but it managed to get itself inside far past what one would think. By the time her limit was reached, only a fraction of his rod was left exposed for Scylla and Pathfinder, whos’ heads were rather close to the action, to see.
“Must I remind you who you belong to?” the minotaur asked, resting himself inside the doe.
“Master… PLEASE! You’re… in… my… wooommmbbbb!” Xenia yelled, the bulged in her stomach proving her claim as accurate.
“Of course I am,” the minotaur scoffed, pulling himself out just enough to exit the body cavity, only to slam himself back in with amazing force. Despite having the weight of two ponies and a deer a top it, the massage table was pushed forward by the thrust. “What short shafted minotaur have you been fucking lately that you let that cervix of yours get so tight. Not that I don’t like that inner ring of yours wrapped around me like an elastic band.”
Scylla, becoming quickly freaked out by this brutal fucking, turned her head away in fright. Pathfinder on the other hand, couldn’t take his eyes off Xenia’s face. Her tongue hung out of her gaping mouth, resting limply on her slacked jaw, with the pupils and irises of her eyes doing their best to retreat inside the deer’s skull. She was clearly in pain, groans escaping her lungs with each thrust the minotaur made, her face looking to be devoid of thought save for the sensations she was being forced to feel. Oddly enough though, this was causing her to start glowing again, with her tattoos at full brightness. The doe must have just been reflexively responding to her agony though, or so Pathfinder assumed since she was being raped right in front of him.
The minotaur took great satisfaction as he smashed her hole again and again, but before he could reach climax, the bull slid out of his cervid victim. As his dick came out, so to did a large amount of the doe’s fluids, as her body had reached a painfully forced orgasm several times in the short span of her sexual assault. The bovine’s penis was covered in the substance, it clinging to his flesh and the hair that covered his foreskin, but a decent amount simply spilled out onto the floor. Immediately after the sexual liquids made contact to the ground, Xenia followed in suit, mentally decimated and no longer supported by her rapist’s grip. Without the ability to stop herself, she fell right into a puddle of her own disgusting juices, twitching, barely aware of the world around her.
“All of you,” said the other minotaur, snapping a whip he held at floor in front of the other deer, “Clean up this mess and get back to work.” The deer scattered at his command, scurrying to Xenia to remove her from their masters’ sight, and sanitize the mess their superior had made.
“Stupid sluts, the lot of them.” said the fat minotaur to his associate, not caring if any of the deer heard his opinion of them. “If they weren’t such good cock slaves and power batteries, there would be no reason to have brought them here.”
“Then I suppose you want to be the one who cleans these new arrivals?” The horn damaged minotaur replied, happy to not have to do such a boring task. The deer had much more utility that his partner wished to grant them, but he agreed that they were still perhaps the most lowly of creatures under their command, trained too well and far too understanding of their where they stood as slaves to ever try to resist or escape.
“What’s so hard about it? Just grab a bucket of water and splash it over the slave’s body. That’s what we use to do with them, before they started making all these unnecessary contraptions.” The fat minotaur, displaying some spite towards the deer’s odd technology, kicked the gel pump away from the table, its wheels taking the device far away, as he made his way to something that caught his eye. Placing his dominant hand down on Scylla’s spine to pin her in place, the fat minotaur grabbed her tail with his other hand and lifted it up high. “How long does it take to clean a fish anyways?”
Scylla’s heart raced, as the minotaur’s presence on her body filled her with all sorts of dark thoughts. She had just witnessed him rape Xenia with no hesitation or restraint, and with the power she felt in just his grip, she could tell he could easily do the same to her.
“N-No! D-Dont!” she yelled, hoping that the plea would be enough to stop the male from violating her body any further than it already had been that day.
“Don’t be shy, I can tell that you want to take about twenty pounds of beef into your eager cunt.” the fat minotaur said, taunting Scylla with said twenty pounds as he rubbed it between the two cheeks of her ass.
“No! No! No! No! NO!” she screamed in response. She could feel the juices of the doe he had just impaled with his giant girth mere moments before rubbing off on her skin, and feared that her own fluids would soon be slathered over it as well.
“No?” the minotaur questioned mockingly, “But your pussy is dripping like a busted shower head.” He laughed at his own analogy as he pulled the kelpie far enough back that her legs dangled over the side of the table, replicating the pose Xenia was forced into before being fucked. “You can’t tell me that this isn’t turning you on.”
Scylla could tell that the minotaur was being honest about the state of her crotch, as she could feel the ever growing dampness it was achieving. Worse though, it was much wetter than it had been when the stags were teasing her, and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why. There was no way she was actually getting turned on by all this. She wasn’t some sexual deviant who would enjoy being raped, even if she had read a few dark romances exploring the subject. Yet here she was, wetter than she had ever been, nipples stiff and body temperature rising like she were in heat. What in Equestria was coming over her?
“Well, whether you admit it or not doesn’t matter to me.” added the minotaur, “I’m still going to stick myself inside you.”
“The fuck you will!” Pathfinder shouted, lifting his body up as quickly as it would allow him. He was sore and still a bit tired from the tranquilizers that were not quite out of his system yet, but he couldn’t sit idly by while this bull had his way. With the girth of his cock, there was no way he was going to fit inside Scylla without tearing something, causing more harm than Pathfinder would allow. That was if he could even fit inside to begin with, but seeing what he did to the petite doe, Pathfinder had no reason to assume he wouldn’t try to make it happen.
Unfortunately for Pathfinder, the second he hopped off the table and his hooves touched the floor was the same second they left it. While he was focused on the minotaur threatening to push his clublike cock inside his daughter, the other one was focused on him, ready to catch the pegasus if he tried anything. A quick swipe was all it took, and Path found his upper torso contained within the coil of the bull’s biceps.
Pathfinder honestly didn’t care though. He and Scylla had been made to do so much in the short time since their arrival to this place, including things he had never ever wanted to do in his life, and he was fairly pissed. He was glad that the minotaur that held him had scoped him up so that he only had his arm wrapped around his chest, leaving his own arms free to move around as he wished. The same was of course likewise true for his legs, and so the pony used all six of his appendages, wings included, to flail around in the arms of his captors, pounding, kicking, and flapping as much as he possibly could.
This was met with mild annoyance from the minotaur. Ponies were rather weak creatures, with their punches and kicks being akin to finger flicks to the bovines. A small selection of Earth Ponies could pose a mild threat, but in most cases a bovine’s physical prowess proved too great to overcome, with even the most under exercise and flabby of the lot being a mountain of muscles covered by a layer of fat. A pegasus like the one he was holding could never hope to do more than irritate him, but the pony didn’t stop trying despite his attacks clearly doing nothing. That kind of tenacity in the face of an undefeatable foe was at least respectable, if foolish, and worthy of the minotaur’s attention… and arousal. With an desire starting to build in his loins, he dropped his whip, and went for the button on his pants.
As Pathfinder kept attacking whatever parts of the minotaur he could get to, he slowly started to feel something press up against his back. Assuming that it was just the hulking creature putting more effort into holding him down, the stallion just continued with his ineffectual assault, up until he heard an ominous unbuttoning come from behind. Next thing he knew, an enormous dick much like the one threatening to spear Scylla’s holes shot up from between his legs, sliding against his own balls and cock, and arching back slightly to press its head into his belly button. If one were to look at this scene, it would appear that Path was saddled atop the pillar of a penis, creating the silly image of him riding the minotaur meat.
“You’re a fighter,” the minotaur said, lowering his free hand onto the shocked stallions head, clasping his skull into his palm, “And as a warrior myself, I can appreciate your bravery. Conquering your ass will be a worthy notch on my belt.”
Pathfinder didn’t exactly understand what the minotaur was saying, but the easiest translation he came up with as the bull forced him by his head over the table, in a pose that matched Scylla’s, was “I’m gonna fuck you”. How quickly he discovered he was woefully right, as the minotaur stood behind him, and rubbed his fully erect bull cock against the stallions small and vulnerable hole.
Like his kelpie daughter, when caught in this incredibly compromising position, he found there was little to do but struggle and scream. “No! You can’t! YOU CAN’T!” It was his worst nightmare made manifest. To be raped by another male, and one so well endowed that the thickness of his shaft rivaled the mass of his own arm. There was no way it could really fit in. He could push and press all day, and never get even the smallest bit of the bulbous cock head inside. At least that is what he hoped and prayed was true, lest he suffered the horror of being anally violated.
“The deer did give them the elasticity injections, right?” The fat minotaur said, more than ready to enter the female that was at his mercy.
“This one certainly got an engorgement shot.” The other minotaur said, reaching down to pinch Path’s taint, focusing on the thick mass of dick bulging out from beneath the flesh. “His urethra is so big, I could use it as a handle and pick him up by it.
“Good, then I’m going in.” replied the fat minotaur, giving no delay in trying to make good on his declaration. With a grip on Scylla’s hips with one hand, he guided himself to her tail hole with the other.
Scylla’s eyes narrowed as she felt the minotaur push up against her rump, squeezing up into her cheeks the best he could with his mass, and to her surprise, her hole was making room for it to enter. Little by little, the circular entrance parted outwards, spreading further and further, inviting its forceful intruder inside. She thought this was impossible, no, she knew this was impossible, and yet against all logic it was happening, and doing so in a very painful manner. She could feel the hole being pulled apart more than it ever had before by far, centimeter by agonizing centimeter, making way for the bull. Tears poured from her eyes in streams, and she clawed at the padding beneath her as her world turned to torment. When she finally thought she could take no more, that something had to give in this exchange, and that that something would be her O-ring, she finally felt the bulls head pop all the way in, and once inside the rest of the shaft just followed.
With incredible force, the bull slammed himself into the mare’s anus, her intestines expanding to make room for him, while what was left of the green gel in her erupted out in a small explosion from between the nearly non-existent space separating the two creature’s flesh.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” the fat minotaur said over Scylla’s despair filled moan, being splash by the substance, “They used Decomp Gel on these two.”
“So?” The other minotaur replied, “You afraid of you’re hairy dick getting shaved?”
“It took me so long to grown it back the last time.” The fat one answered.
“Suck it up. You’re getting to test a soon to be broodmare. You have no right to complain.”
Having said that, the minotaur holding down Pathfinder began his own journey into the bowels of his captive. Just as with Scylla, there was little the pegasus could do as the dick at his back passage delved inside, save for squeaking out nearly silent sounds of trauma as his ass experienced its first sexual penetration. Unlike the fat minotaur, this one felt like intentionally drawing out this traumatizing event, going as slow as he possibly could as he made his way inside.
Pathfinder wiggled his rump side to side in attempt to reverse the progress that was made, but all that seemed to achieve was getting it in all the faster as his hole slid further around his cockhead. In a matter of seconds that felt like several excruciating minutes for Path, the minotaur had made his way inside, and was slowly bringing the stallion’s stretched out sphincter to his dick’s hilt. The deeper the dick got inside of the pegasus, the less he struggled against it, as every movement sparked a series of feelings and sensations that he didn’t want to experience, not necessarily because they were all bad, but because some felt irrefutably good.
The rod travelling through Pathfinder’s rectum was grinding up against and pushing out of its way anything that was in its path, and one of these things was his prostate. The normally untouchable sexual organ was experiencing a full on contact that was both agonizing and pleasurable, mixing into cocktail of pain and pleasure that came from his rear end being rammed. Not just that though, but the stallion could feel the cock in him press against the inner part of his spine, which somehow caused the sensations he felt to double up in confusion of all these normally impossible to reach nerves being triggered to life.
The more this went on, and the more bends in intestines that were forced to wrap around and constrict the minotaur’s penis, the more faculties of thought Pathfinder seemed to lose. His voice quieted till all that came out were whimpers and heavy breaths, his tongue slipped out of his muzzle as if being pushed out the more the dick was pushed in, and his thoughts were blanked out almost completely, save for the small voice in his head telling him that he should hate this despite all the pleasant sensations this was causing in him. Where his mind said “no”, his body said “yes”, and unbeknownst to his barely conscience mind, his own cock was in the midst of spurting out shots of thick, white cum, forced into a consecutive stream of orgasms caused by the overload of emotions, sensations, a severe chemical imbalance throughout the entirety of his reproductive systems.
Finally, the minotaur’s hips made contact with the pegasus’ ass cheeks, and with it as far into the stallion as it could go, Pathfinder slumped his head down in defeat, though his wings were spread out in the most triumphant wing boner he could make. The stallion’s will was no match for simple biology, thus for now he would have to relent to it.
“Not bad,” the minotaur said to his partner, knowing that anything said to the pegasus would fall on deaf ears, “He didn’t pass out till the very end.”
“Need to give his faggot ass some awareness enhancing drugs next time,” the fat minotaur said, casually thrusting his dick in and out of Scylla’s hole, the kelpie by this point reduced to little more than gasps and sobs as she got fucked anally by the beast behind her, “Keep him awake so he can feel how much he really likes that thick shaft inside him.”
“He’s twink material for sure,” the minotaur inside Path said, taking the stallion’s mane in hand so he could lift up the pony’s head by it, revealing that the intensity of the sensations he had endured had caused a bit of drool to dribble down his muzzle, “Despite his complaints, he’s in bliss.”
“I think he’d look good in a dress.” commented the fat minotaur.
“I think he looks good naked.” the other joked, slapping Pathfinder on his flank hard, which elicited a deep, almost primal moan to be let loose from the depths of his throat, and made his violated anal cavity constrict around the minotaur, as if trying to crush it, though clearly unable to do such a task. “We’ll just have to see what the Crystal mare has in store for him.”
“Speaking of…” the fat minotaur said reaching for a pocket watch attached to his belt that was the size of a standard wall clock, “It’s about time for this slave to get her master.”
“Hoping to get her yourself?” the other minotaur asked, pulling himself out of Pathfinder as slowly as he entered.
“That’s assuming I’ll even be picked to begin with,” said the fat one, giving Scylla a few more extra powerful thrusts before removing his cock from her ass. “But I wouldn’t mind having this exotic piece of pony meat at the end of my leash.”
Scylla, having endured this trial much better than her father, listened to the two minotaur exchange words, and she didn’t like what she was hearing. She didn’t want to be this minotaur’s slave. She didn’t want to be a slave at all, but if she had to be than she would rather it be by something like a pony. Something that wouldn’t push her body past its limits by fucking her with a penis that was clearly not meant to be inside a creature so small in comparison. She expected her hole to never recover from such a brutal penetration, yet to her surprise, the moment that the bull removed his shaft from her bowels, the tunnels of her intestines and the hole that was her O-ring tightened back up near instantly and returned to normal size. The same also happened with Pathfinder, though Scylla was unaware of that herself.
Scylla, relieved that she wasn’t ruined by the minotaur, and that he had removed himself from her person, wasn’t given time to relax though. The minotaur was back upon her within seconds, grabbing her by the neck and pulling her to her hooves.
“Now that you know what I can do to you,” the minotaur said in a tone of command, “I think it’s safe to say you won’t try to disobey me. Is that right?”
Scylla found it difficult to stand after the emotional and physical punishment she recieved, wobbling from side to side as she tried to keep her footing, and felt it just as difficult to verbally respond to the minotaur. Still, she managed to muster the strength for a hasty nod, as she didn’t want to risk further punishment from the bovine.
“Good, then come with me.” Keeping his hold on Scylla’s neck, the fat minotaur walked her away from the table, towards a door at the far end of the room.
Scylla quickly recognized though that moving away from the table meant that she was being taken away from Pathfinder as well, and while she didn’t resist physically, she yelled out “Dad!” in hopes that the pegasus would hear it.
“Don’t you worry about him,” The minotaur said ushering Scylla out of the room, “He’s gonna get rested and cleaned up, and you’ll see him later.”
“B-but…”
The minotaur slammed the door loudly behind the both of them, not giving Scylla any chance to protest further, leaving Path behind in the care of his associate. It would take some time for the two ponies to see each other again, as the Society had a policy of keeping slaves familiar with one another apart during training. Until that time, they would just have to hope for each other’s safety, and endure what ordeals there was yet to come.
Equestria Trainers' Society: Fish Out of Water
Submission's First Reward: Part 2
Rubric looked at his kelpie slave with skepticism, not really believing that she had changed her mind about wanting to use another slave. Not that he knew enough about Scylla to discern that his treatment of the reptile had sparked something in her, but most ponies had moral qualms when it came to the assumed mistreatment of other creatures. Funnily enough, most dragons in her position wouldn’t have batted an eye at a pony being abused in the same manner.
“Ok, it’s your day, so if you want to use her, then go ahead,” Rubric said, extending the dragon’s remote to Scylla, only to pull it halfway back to him as her fingers touched the device, “Just so long as you actually use her.”
“Huh?” Scylla said, a little confused.
“I paid a good amount of coin for her use,” Rubric explained, “Not to give her a day off. If you don’t use the dragon as a slave, then I’ll take her back for my own enjoyment.”
Scylla looked away for a split second when given the stipulations. Her main reason to get the dragon away from Rubric was to prevent any more manhandling on the minotaur’s part. Now that she had to make use of the dragon, the kelpie wasn’t even sure what she could use her for.
“Fine,” Scylla said, figuring that the first thing to do was get the controller away from Rubric. The minotaur, hearing his slave agree to his terms, handed over the remote without any objection, that was until Scylla added, “But not sexually. Today’s supposed to be my day off.”
“Okay,” Rubric said, honestly not caring that Scylla didn’t want to fuck the dragon, “But then what are you going to use her for?”
“Ummm... “ Scylla had to think for a second, searching her mind for all the things slaves did to amuse the customers of The Society. It took her a moment, but then she remembered the day of her debut, and of the stallion that invited her to drinks, “Entertainment!”
“Entertainment?” Rubric asked curiously.
“Well I’m sure that a dragon like her has some interesting stories to tell,” Scylla reasoned, “And if that’s not enough, then I’ll have her do a dance for me or something.”
Scylla lifted herself out of the pool, and was a little worried when Rubric rolled his eyes at her. For a second she thought that her reason wouldn’t be enough for him, but then the minotaur said to her, “Fine, do as you wish. Just keep the lizard busy.” Lifting his hand dismissively as he soaked in the pool.
Scylla took his approval and ran with it, immediately going to the dragon, who was still plumped up from all the cum filling her, despite having already coughed a lot of it back up onto the floor. Hearing the reptile’s moans up close, watching her barely move after the minotaur’s sexual assault on her, made Scylla feel awful that she didn’t do something to stop it when it was happening. At this point, the kelpie wasn’t even sure the dragon could move so she could use it as a slave.
“Are you ok?” she said, gripping the dragon’s shoulder to give it a gentle shake.
The dragon gave no response to this, lying as still as she could, her breathing being the only thing that indicated she was still well.
Rubric, seeing this out of the corner of his eye, said to his slave, “The purple button…”.
Knowing that he was speaking to her, Scylla took a look at the device now in her possession. There were an array of knobs, switches, and buttons on it, none of which were labeled. However, they all seemed to have a different color association to them, which was probably how Society members knew which ones did what. As always, things in the facility were designed to keep the slaves in the dark. Still, it was only a matter of seconds before she found a purple button on the remote, and following the instructions of her master, the aquatic mare pressed her finger down on it.
The dragon immediately shot up to a sitting position, her breathing becoming very rapid. It was like something had overcome the dragon, something only she could sense, and Scylla could only look on with bewilderment by the dragon’s reaction to a simple button press. Soon, the dragon had moved to all fours, whatever was happening to her becoming too much, the use of all her limbs necessary to keep her body off the ground as she violently trembled. Scylla was starting to believe that Rubric had tricked her into doing something terrible to the dragon, but right before she worked up the nerve to scold the minotaur for deceiving her, she discovered the true purpose of the purple button.
Still on all fours, the dragon made a few incredibly labored breaths, and then in a disgusting display, emptied out the contents of her stomach in a single, violent, internal push. What looked to be gallons of bull spunk spewed out from the dragon’s open maw, slipping out onto the marble floor, slowly seeping its way towards several nearby drain grates. The inflated dragon quickly returned to her normal size, and by the end of it all, she was left coughing up the few droplets of cum still caught in her throat.
“There, she’s ready to work now.” Rubric said, having not even cared enough about the reptile to look in her direction as she puked up all the semen he poured into her.
Scylla had to admit, that button did solve sure did the trick, as the dragon was both active and able to move without an overly full stomach impeding her. There was still one matter she wanted to attend to though, before she started to use the dragon for the purpose Rubric demanded of her.
Going up behind the still sputtering dragon female, Scylla looked at the back parts of both her mouth gag and blindfold. Both were attached to the girl’s head with only a single strap each, neither locked into place.
“Hold still.” Scylla said, as she went to remove the two objects.
The dragon listened to her, or perhaps was too preoccupied recovering to do otherwise. Whatever the reason, Scylla was able to remove objects with ease, setting them off to the side, and with them out of the way, the kelpie was able to see the beautiful set of blue, reptilian eyes.
The first thing the dragon did once her sight was returned was clenched her lovely eyes shut, the room’s lighting too harsh for her to handle immediately. It was strange for Scylla to watch a dragon, even one as small as this one, to be in such a helpless state. Dragons were supposed to be strong, brash, and incapable of domination. While the last description had been shattered upon seeing the dozens of dragon slaves in the room, she didn’t expect one to look so pathetic, on all fours, taking heavy breaths through a still gaping mouth, cowering from the light.
“Are you okay?” Scylla asked, assuming the answer was no, but feeling the question needed to be said.
“I’m… fine…” the dragon replied, straining a response with a jaw sore from being held open for who knew how long. The dragon then turned her head to the direction the concerned voice came from, and slowly forced her eyes to open, “Just... need a second to…” The pink dragon paused for a second at what she saw, expressing confusion at first, before her eyes went narrow in surprise. “A… pony?!”
Scylla didn’t expect that response from the dragon, who she assumed would have encountered many a pony member of the Society during her time as a slave. Was it a question of clarification? Was she having trouble telling if Scylla was or was not a pony with her kelpie features? Scylla could see that being the case, but the smile forming on the dragon’s lips was indicated there was something more to her question.
Hearing a new voice in the room, Rubric shifted his attention back to his breeding slave, and noticed what had happened. With a groan, he loudly commented, “Now you’ve done it.”
Scylla looked over to his master, thinking she had done something she wasn’t permitted to do, but as she did she received an unexpected embrace as the dragon forced herself up, practically leapted at Scylla, and gave the kelpie a big hug.
“That one has a thing for ponies,” Rubric went on to say, doing nothing to cease the activity between the two slave females, “She was blindfolded earlier today in preparations for you and that pegasus’ arrival, to keep her on task. Now you’re gonna have to deal with the consequences.”
Scylla, still being held rather tightly, took a moment to process what was going on to her, but soon figured out first hand how much a distraction the presence of ponies would have been for the dragon, as the hug turned more into a grope, with claws hands exploring the kelpie’s body freely as she was held firmly in dragon’s embrace.
The minotaur hadn’t been scolding, he was giving a sincere warning, though one Scylla couldn’t take advantage of, for the sake of his one amusement. The minotaur’s amusement only went so far though, and soon he spoke again, this time in a more authoritarian tone. “Hey, lizard!” he called out, being intentionally boisterous and loud.
As the impact of his words hit her, the dragon tensed up, released Scylla, then displayed submission by kneeling, bending her upper torso forward, and stretching her arms out in front of her as she pressed her snout to the floor.
“That pony you’re hugging is your mistress for today, and you’re wasting her precious time with your overbearing pony fetish. Now get to work, and start tending to her desires.”
Hearing the minotaur’s demand, the dragon perked her head up, and then turned her gaze to Scylla once more, this time with a newfound glimmer in her eyes, almost predatory in nature as it dawned on the enslaved dragon what position she had been put into.
Scylla returned a nervous smile, as she had no clue what she was in for, and believed that by trying to protect the dragon, she might have placed herself into some sort of trap.
“Then tell me, mistress ,” the dragon said gleefully, crawling over to the kelpie on her knees in a way that certainly was unbecoming of a dragon, “What would you have this humble slave do for you?”
“Now wait a second,” Scylla said, swearing that she saw the dragon wiggle her rump seductively as she placed herself before her, “I don’t want to rush to the best part right away.” Scylla said that, but she really wasn’t intending to get to the ‘best part’ at all. It seemed to be what the dragon wanted though, or at least what she believed she wanted, as there was little doubt she had been thoroughly programmed by Schorl and the trainers at The Society.
“Well of course,” the dragon said, taking Scylla’s hand in her claws, looking up from her bowed position with what could only be called ‘bedroom eyes’, “We can work our way up to the fun stuff. I’m yours to command, and I’m happy to serve your every wish.”
Scylla could feel herself heat up at the attention she was receiving, never having anyone, let alone another girl, let alone a dragon of all things, be this aggressively affectionate to her. She couldn’t deny, it was working to some degree, as the kelpie could feel a tingling in many of her naughtiest places.
“Ahahahahaha!” Scylla responded, laughing in panic as she pulled back her hand, “That’s… Well, I don’t know what to say. But ok, how about we start off with something small. Could you tell me your name, please?”
“Please?” The dragon said, sitting up on her knees, “No need to be so formal to a lowly wyrm like myself. My name is Mina, I’m just a slave in training to serve ponies like yourself.”
“Ummm… Well… You see…” Scylla said, still trying to tiptoe out of the intensity of this situation, which she didn’t expect in her wildest fantasies, even after being enslaved, raped, and impregnated by a minotaur became a reality for her, “I’m a slave in training too.”
Scylla showed off her collar, indicating that she too was merely the property of someone else.
“You are still my mistress for the day,” the dragon explained, “So please, make use of me as you will.”
Scylla could see the only way to turn down the sexual heat this dragon was radiating was to force it down, and there were few ways she could think of doing that while locked in this room. She came up with one idea though, one of a handful that would fulfill the requirement Rubric had given to Scylla for the dragon’s use.
“Master, I’m gonna go eat at one of the tables,” she said to Rubric, relaying to him her intended course of action, “Mina, if you’d go get my food from over there, and follow me, you’re gonna feed me.”
“Giving me the privilege to hand feed you?” Mina said, fetching the plate she was instructed to retrieve, following after Scylla, who was already making her way to a table, once obtained, “You are far too kind.”
“Yeah, I’m starting to see that,” Scylla said, wondering if the dragon would be able to make something such as eating overly erotic.
The kelpie had already gone through such a thing with her master, and now she might get the same with this incredibly odd dragon. She was beginning to suspect that despite the presentation that this was a vacation day, it was actually just more training, designed to make her see positive aspects of enslavement. Thing was, despite her best efforts, it was kinda working.
Once the two got situated at a table, Scylla did as she said and allowed the dragon to hand feed her, using a fork and spoon, while falling back on her original plan of having the dragon ‘entertain’ her through a story. Mina was instructed to tell the kelpie how she ended up at the Society, which started off by explaining how she was in Equestria in the first place. It appeared that Mina had come to Equestria from the Dragon Lands years prior, moving into a section of Fillydelphia called Dragon Town, a small area where dragons live within the pony city, though seldom interact directly with one another.
Scylla learned that Mina ran a small comic shop in Dragon Town, and that she moved there because she had a strong interest with ponies, though seldom had a chance to interact with them because lots of ponies had poor opinions about dragons, based on how most dragons from the Dragon Lands behaved towards other creatures.
It was about this time that Mina and Scyla’s conversation caught the attention of the two other non-draconic females in the room, and soon both Gabby and Blue Yonder joined them at Scylla’s table. After a brief explanation of what was going on, and another trip to the buffet table for seconds, the four girls began another discussion about how they all ended up in the Society’s clutches.
“So after I was given the package by my supervisor,” Gabby said, halfway through her own tale, Scylla having already recounted the night she and her father were abducted, “I made my way to Canterlot to deliver it. I guess it must’ve been some sort of trap set up by Lady Tourmaline, because when I got to the delivery location I was invited inside. When I got far enough away from the door, the lights went out, the door closed, and I felt a bunch of hands grabbing me to hold me down. I passed out for some reason shortly after, and when I woke up I was bound up so tight I could hardly move a feather, put into a box and on my way here.”
“That’s horrible,” Scylla sympathized, having been treated pretty much the same.
“Yeah, that seems to be The Society’s method of capture,” Yonder added, “Isolate, surprise, and then subdue. I was caught out while exploring a forest, investigating some ancient ruins. I was about to go inside, when I heard a loud noise from my airship, so I went back to make sure it wasn’t being burgled by some treasure thieves.”
Blue Yonder appeared to lead a much more interesting life than Scylla or Gabby, one an assistant at her father’s map shop, while the other was a delivery gryphon. Of the three, Yonder was perhaps the most mature and experienced, and yet the Society managed to capture her just as well.
“When I got there, I was expecting to find maybe one or two of my rivals rooting through my stuff, but instead I found half a flock of gryphons, the other half waiting outside for me when I made my escape. I guess I never expected to get kidnapped, of all things. Tied down to some ancient torture device or left in a thousand year old booby trap, sure, but I didn’t think anyone would want me instead of the relics I was looking for.”
“You ponies make everything sound so interesting,” Mina said as she refilled a set of glasses the other three were using for drinks, keeping them topped off being the task given to her by Scylla, “The only reason a dragon would even bother crawling into an old pony ruin is if they were hungry and looking for a snack.”
Mina’s words made Yonder’s lips twist for a second, the thought of some priceless relic ending up in a dragon’s gut and dissolved into nothing was not something she had ever thought of. She tried not to think about the likelihood that such a thing had happened, since the dragon so casually brought it up.
“Well, I’m sure dragons lead very interesting lives themselves.” Yonder said, trying to push the idea out of her head.
“Depends what you consider interesting,” Mina replied, “In the Dragon Lands, a lot of us just hang around lava pools all day, devouring gemstones, and roughhousing with one another. At least till we get the urge to seek out our own personal caves and create a horde to keep to ourselves.”
“I could see that being something fun to do,” Gabby said, taking a sip from her refreshed drink.
“I didn’t,” Mina responded, “That’s why I moved to Fillydelphia. Being there, and even in here, is more exciting than living a day in and day out at a volcano.”
“Exciting is one way to put it,” said Scylla, speaking about the Society, “But it has to be horrible for a dragon like you to be put through all this.”
“What do you mean?” Mina said, legitimately looking confused.
“Well, I mean being forced into sex, especially with those big minotaur. If not for the drugs, I’m sure my master would have made you pop like a balloon.”
Mina blinked a few times, as if she was stunned to hear Scylla say the things she had. Then she gave a bit of a laugh, “I guess that would be something a pony would find horrible. For us dragons, this is practically normal.”
“It… is?” Scylla said, wondering what Mina could find normal about being a slave.
“Yeah, though after living in a pony kingdom, I’ll admit that I was a little weirded out when those minotaurs copied our mating habits.”
Scylla scratched her head in confusion, and she wasn’t the only one unsure about what Mina meant.
“You might have to explain what you’re talking about,” Yonder said, thinking that she had a hint to what the dragon was getting at, but not wanting to jump to conclusions.
“Oh, well as you all know, a lot of dragons are brutish by nature, and tend to be pretty greedy, as well as domineering when they can be.” Mina began to explain, “So when dragon mating season comes around, the really big, strong ones tend to go around and gather up smaller ones like myself to take in as a personal harem.”
“What?!” the three yelled, Gabby a little late with her exclamation, as she had to spit out a bit of her drink when she heard the dragon mating habit.
“Yeah, it’s really not that different than what they are doing here… Well, except for some of the bondage things they do to us.”
Mina was talking about all this so casually, and so vaguely, that the others couldn’t help but be intrigued. Scylla most of all wanted to hear what it was dragons did with their harems, for reasons she would be embarrassed about if the others knew.
“Mind telling us exactly what the bigger dragons do?” she asked, really wanting Mina to go on.
“Sure,” Mina complied with a snicker, “You’re my mistress right now, so I’d be punished if I disobeyed. So anyway, when a dragon comes of age, the older dragons start to take notice of them. They can sense when younger dragons are ready to mate, via the shape of their bodies, and the scents they carry. When mating season starts, the dragon lands practically turn into a battlefield of older dragons hunting down smaller dragons just coming into adulthood, snatching up as many as they can find. Males, in particular, will take on a few dozen, and it doesn’t matter if they are guys or girls.”
“That certainly seems like how the minotaurs behave,” Yonder commented, “Though as you probably know, they do have a reason to pick more females.”
“After getting as many as they can find,” Mina proceeded, “They take them back to their caves and seal themselves and their new harem inside. For the next year or so, the elder dragon then asserts his dominance over their new captives and uses them however they please. Before you ask, it’s not exactly a pleasant experience, as the elders use their harem as playthings, and train them to serve their every desire, but our instincts will kick in shortly after it all starts, and when that happens the elder is imprinted onto us as not only our mate, but our owner.”
If Mina had any ill thoughts about what she was saying, she didn’t express it in the slightest, wearing a sly smirk on her face as she reminisced about her own time in a harem.
“Even before imprinting though, the elder will make use of his harem, forcing them into sexual acts. Female elders mostly have their harem pleasure them through massages, or by running their tongues across the more sensitive areas. Males, on the other hand, take no qualms in impaling those they’ve claimed on their cocks.”
“That sounds agonizing,” Scylla said, imagining what that had to be like, assuming a dragon dick was much larger than a minotaur.
“I can’t say it doesn’t hurt,” Mina said, “But a dragon’s body is suited for it. We can stretch out to fit things that are as big as our bodies, and once our bodies understand what’s going on, they remove most of the pain and drown our senses with so much pleasure we don’t know what’s going on. For months after that, the harem acts as servants to the elder, and for their service, they are allowed to eat from the elder’s gem horde. A few months after that, any bred females lay their eggs, and are often allowed to go, as once the elder is done being horny, they often stop caring about the harem.”
“Hmm… She’s right.” Yonder spoke up again, “Dragons really do seem to treat mating the same way as minotaurs, except for that catch and release policy. It actually makes me wonder why they didn’t try to make some sort of deal with your kind.”
“Probably cause it wouldn’t work,” Mina answered, “No self respecting dragon would allow themselves to be the mate of a non-dragon. At least, not unless we were the ones on top. We have far too much pride to just let other creatures use us like that.”
“Ahem…” Yonder said, spotting a clear contradiction with that statement.
“Well, normally.” Mina corrected, “Right now, those minotaurs got us stuck in these rings here,” Mina said, showing off the jewelry on her fingers and toes, “Don’t know how they managed it, but these things sting us fiercely if we step out of line.”
“Why don’t you just bite it off?” Gabby said, recognizing that the ring was merely a gold band with a gem, something a dragon’s teeth should be able to go through easily.
“Because the moment one comes off, the others start shocking you at full strength,” Mina answered, “And it’s so harsh that you can barely move to try to get the next one off. Believe me, it’s not like it hasn’t been tried.”
“That’s a shame,” Yonder noted, understanding that even dragons had their limits.
“It’s not that bad though,” Mina stated, “This is just how dragons do things. Dominating the weak, bowing down to the strong. It’s a little embarrassing that it’s not another dragon doing this to us, we don’t imprint with them like we do our elders, and the minotaurs have a few stranger demands than an elder would, but I don’t think any of us think its any worse than our first mating season.”
Scylla took in all Mina had to say about the situation, and certain conclusions began to form within her manipulated mind. For some species, the things the minotaurs were doing was practically as normal as taking a walk down the street. It was a drastic cultural difference, but rape leading into an eventually consensual relationship was the way dragons found mates. Scylla took into consideration of the minotaurs’ situation, and the things they had done to her and the others since they got here.
The minotaur had no biological females, so they had to mate with females from other species. However, their size compared to most was intimidating by itself, and even those designed by nature to have sex with a creature the size of a house couldn’t do so without being hurt for some reason. Even if that pain wasn’t the main issue, there were other circumstances that appeared to get in the minotaur’s way, such as the pride of a dragon.
Seeing that minotaur eventually resorted to slavery to find mates, this must have been a near universal barrier for them. Ponies perhaps being too afraid to give themselves to the massive creatures, gryphons not finding the ordeal worth the compensation the minotaur could provide per child, yaks maybe finding sex with a minotaur not up to their standards due to the pain. There were many reasons one could come up with to not want to endure a minotaur’s affections, many Scylla had deduced with herself, having gone through the ordeal many times, so what alternatives did the bovine race have if they wished to continue.
To a minotaur, forcing themselves was simply the most effective way to the goal, with no other alternatives available. If there were any other way, then maybe they would have never resorted to it to begin with. Scylla, in the situation she was in, wanted to believe that that was true, wanted to believe that the one that impregnated her wasn’t an absolute monster.
There were signs that that was the case, as Rubric had taken measures to make sex with him less painful, and he had allowed her to relax for the day in one of The Society’s luxury pool rooms, which was a small, but noticeable gesture that was hard to ignore. It brought up the question if Rubric even wanted to abuse her, with his overall distance to her hinting that there was something more to their relationship than her merely being his sex slave. If he saw her only as his personal screw toy, he would be more like that cruel minotaur, Jupiter, or he would be more into the idea, like Cestus. That he hardly used her for that could have meant that he had something. Maybe he felt something for her, or perhaps he was trying to prevent himself from feeling something for her.
“Hey Mina, you stay here and keep serving my friends,” Scylla said, setting her sights on her master, “I need to look into something.”
With those few words, the kelpie excused herself from the table, going back to the pool. Rubric, having finished his food, had made his way to the deeper parts of it, swimming around by himself. Being an aquatic creature, Scylla couldn’t help but notice that his form was crude, no matter how relaxed he was trying to make himself. It was slightly endearing to see the bull splash around, his slightest movements causing ripples through the entirety of the pool’s surface.
Without him seeing, the kelpie entered the water, slipping in under the surface with only the slightest disruption of the clear fluid. For the first time in a long time she was able to take a breath of air through her gills instead of her mouth, the feeling of fleshy filters separating oxygen from hydrogen was refreshing, awakening Scylla’s aquatic instincts. With a twist of her body and a flick of her tail, she torpedoed herself through the water at speeds most ponies couldn’t hope to match, her time in captivity having only made her slightly slower than she would have been otherwise.
Surrounded by water, Scylla was more aware of her environment than most other creatures could be outside of it. She could feel every movement in the water, from the miniature waterfalls breaking the surface, to the flames pouring down from the mouths of the dragons bound poolside. Of course, what she was going for would have been easy for anypony to locate submerged, as it was the thing causing the most disturbance at the moment.
It only took her a few seconds to reach the minotaur, surfacing within a few inches of him, which caught Rubric’s attention. “You done with the lizard?” he asked, going into a half float.
“I have her doing something at the moment,” Scylla answered, “But don’t worry about her right now. I think we need to talk.”
“Need to?” Rubric questioned, “That’s a bit forward for a slave, isn’t it?”
Scylla was worried that Rubric might resist an upfront confrontation, but there were few other ways to approach this, and there might never be a better, or even another, time to do it.
“Yes, it is.” Scylla replied with a bit of determination, “But I want to talk about our relationship.”
“Our relationship? What is there to talk about? You’re my sex slave, and I’m your master. I own you, and you give birth to my children.”
“Right, but I don’t want it to just be that.” said Scylla, “I can accept that I’m your slave, and that I’ll be your slave for the rest of my life, but I can’t accept being with someone who doesn’t love me.”
Rubric couldn’t help but be drawn in by that, “Love? You want love from the person who raped you?”
“I have been thinking about this for a long time,” Scylla replied, “And while I wish that we could have started this in a better way, for you and your people there is no better way. You have to do this, or else you’d never get anywhere with a female.”
Rubric snorted in response, “That’s true. To us minotaur, claiming a woman as a slave is the closest thing to a first date as we get.”
“Then maybe… if I can understand that, then you can understand that as a woman I have needs. More needs than just what your money can provide.”
“So you want affection.” said Rubric, “It’s not unheard of from a slave. Females have fallen in love with their captors over time. I just didn’t expect you to do it so quickly.”
“I haven’t fallen in love with you,” Scylla corrected, “But I would like to see if that’s possible. If you could treat me like an actual woman, and I could learn to love you in return.”
Rubric took a moment to close his eyes, floating himself over to one of the small islands in the center of the pool. “You should know, as far as we minotaur are concerned, a slave is a slave. While we are willing to provide for them, and even support them in some of their goals, we never relinquish a slave from that role. Even should I decide to treat you better, I own you.”
“If that’s what makes you feel safe with this relationship, fine.” Scylla accepted, “I’ll just look at us like we’re married.”
“It has nothing to do about me ‘feeling safe’,” Rubric said, trying to clarify any misconceptions Scylla might have had, “It’s not unheard of for a slave to try and strike a deal with their master, and we minotaur have encountered a wide variety of results from that outcome. Sometimes it turns out fine, sometimes the slave backs out of their part of the agreement, and other times a slave tries to use what they feel is a moment of weakness on the master’s part to gain leverage. Overall, slaves just try to get us to ease up on them so they can get an opportunity to escape. After a few generations of this behavior, we determined it's best to promise a slave nothing, save that we would treat them as well as any other piece of property we own. You're not even my first breeding slave, so you have no right to ask for any privilege I haven’t already given to one of my other wives .”
Rubric might have said this had nothing to do with his own feeling of safety, but everything he said practically confirmed a cultural fear that their slaves will betray them if given any kind of leniency. Minotaur can’t trust their slaves to simply do as they’re told, because those they enslave would naturally want to escape or turn the situation in their favor. In a way, even Scylla was guilty of that, as it is her own desire for a better life than that of a mere breeding slave that led her to try and reason with Rubric. That didn’t mean she was wrong though, as while one could sympathize with the minotaur’s inability to get mates without rape, it was also fair to say that their unwillingness to meet those they enslaved halfway once the slave submitted was selfish.
“All I’m asking is that we try to get along with each other.” Scylla said, attempting once more to appeal to the bovine’s sense of empathy, “We can start out slow, but I don’t want to be stuck with someone I just hate. Can we at least try?”
“Let me make sure I get what you’re requesting,” said Rubric, “You want me to be more affectionate towards you. Treat you more like what another pony would treat you in a relationship between a male and a female? What does that even entail in your eyes?”
That was actually a little difficult to answer, as part of Scylla didn’t think that she’d make it this far to make up terms. “Well… I’d like for us to spend more time together, for starters.”
“More time together?” Rubric pondered on that seemingly simple request, “You realize that I work here guarding the club members and taming slaves, right?”
“Yes,” Scylla replied, acknowledging that Rubric was the kind of man who liked focusing on his career, as repugnant as that career was, “But I’m sure you have more free time than you’re letting on.”
“Fine, I’ll figure out a way to have us get together in between my work and your training.” Rubric agreed, giving Scylla the tiniest of openings.
“And… I don’t want us to get together just for sex.” Scylla added, “I’m your slave, and my body belongs to you, but my heart can’t belong to someone who just uses me as a sex object.”
“I’m not much for casual conversation,” Rubric said, “But if you want days where we are together without it just being about sex, then I suppose that’s not too much to ask.”
“Good,” Scylla said, “That will give me time to ask more questions about you, or minotaur culture, things I’ll need to know since I’ll be living with you after my training is done.”
Rubric was slightly surprised by Scylla’s forethought in this process. It seemed that to her living with him was now a foregone conclusion, which it was as far as he was concerned, so now her only recourse was to prepare for it and learn the customs that she would be expected to follow.
“How admirable,” Rubric murmured, his deep voice making it hard for him to hide his appreciation for Scylla’s attitude, “Well the first thing I think you should know is that once I take you to Minopolis, you will be exposed to a cultural system of slavery. For as many minotaurs live on the island, the amount of slaves still overshadows us by a good margin. Of course, that is what our focus on breeding is supposed to eventually overcome, but that is a goal that is generations from accomplishing. What I’m trying to say is that there will be other slaves, lots of them, in your new home, and you will be expected to respect other slave owners and their methods when it comes to the treatment of their slaves.”
Thoughts of minotaurs like Jupiter came to Scylla, “So if a minotaur is being cruel to their slave, I just have to accept it?”
“You don’t have to like it,” Rubric corrected, “But if you cause a fuss about some other slave being mistreated, I’ll have to punish you for misbehaving. Besides, we minotaur do have laws to make sure no slave is too poorly mistreated, at least by our standards.”
“So I just have to trust that your kind knows best then?” Scylla asked, legitimately wondering if that was the case.
“Indeed,” Rubric said, “We are the masters, and thus you must have faith that we can regulate one another. You have no other choice in the matter.”
That was a hard thing to ask of Scylla. She had a pretty poor opinion on the slave training process that she had to go through herself, and Rubric was implying that there were other methods utilized in minotaur culture that he foresees her disagreeing with even more. As he said though, voicing such an opinion would be fruitless, and would only force his hand. Holding her tongue was going to be part of the price of her having what would be considered a peaceful life as a breeding slave.
“And don’t ever try to get me to stop doing my job,” Rubric added, “I chose to be a slaver because it is a profitable profession, not because I find it a moral one. I capture, train, and sell off creatures like yourself because it fulfills my financial needs, for both myself and all of my slaves, and you will respect that.”
“Yes sir,” Scylla replied, feeling like she was being preemptively reprimanded for something that he knew she would attempt, “I won’t try to stop you, as I get that is considered an honest profession in your lands.”
The minotaur paid close attention to Scylla’s expressions as she spoke. They were not happy ones, but they did express resignation. Being an experienced slaver, he knew this was the best an owner could expect from a slave not born into servitude, though others might try to demand more.
“If that’s understood, then we can try to form some sort of real relationship between the two of us.” Rubric said, “But if that’s really what you want, then I think that it wouldn’t be too much for me to ask for a gesture of good faith from you.”
“A gesture of good faith?” Scylla said back mildly confused, not sure what a pony in her position could do when Rubric had complete control over what she did already.
“You are asking me to treat you well, more or less, and yet you’ve done little to deserve such treatment.” Rubric explained, “As you yourself have pointed out, all of our interactions, sexual or otherwise, have been forced upon you. As such, you’ve never done anything to make me feel that you’re deserving of any privilege. Now should be the time that you change that.”
While Rubric was showing a very dickish aspect of himself, he had a point. Her accepting her violation was not, in and of itself, worthy of reward. To get the things she desired from this arrangement, she had to give up something of her own, in this case, her reluctance.
“As you wish… Master,” the kelpie said, slipping herself under the water.
With the water as clear as it was, the minotaur was able to watch his slave swim up to him from beneath it, her hands finding their way to the piece of cloth he used to conceal his manhood when not in use. With a small bit of hesitation, she emulated what she witnessed earlier when her master raped the dragon, and undid the belt around his waist so she could let loose his bulky bull penis.
From Scylla’s perspective, she had put herself face to face with the tool that was used to defile her body many times now, the very thing that burdened her womb with what could very likely be a minotaur child. Her master’s cock had only ever been an object of suffering for her, and yet now she would have to treat it was the same level of affection and kindness she was hoping to earn.
With the end goal in mind, Scylla went to task, running her tongue on her master’s girth. She was thankful that the pool had washed away any sweat and grime that seemed accumulated on her master’s sex organ on a daily basis, so all she could taste now was the natural flavor of his own leathery skin. When it came down to licking the bull’s shaft, having been cleansed by water, it was no more unpleasant performing oral on a stallion’s dick. She almost enjoyed licking at the thick, currently flaccid chunk of meat, as she let herself be drawn in by the erotic aspects of having a cock of this size right in front of one’s own eyes.
As the cock began forming solidity from the stimulation it was receiving, Scylla took hold of it with her hands, using the thick rod as leverage as she pulled it downwards and herself upwards. The buoyancy of the water allowed her to place her face in front of the head of the bull cock, the part of her master that painfully penetrated her pussy, guiding in the rest of Rubric’s girth to stuff the passage to her deepest depth full, allowing no space for his sperm to escape as it filled her beyond what should have been capacity.
Knowing that it was the only path to the life she was now aiming for, the kelpie opened her mouth wide, pushing her own head forward to meet the massive male’s meat rod to her lips. She pressed her face against Rubric’s dick the best she could, getting as much of it inside her mouth as she thought the space would allow. The head alone was so large that she had to stretch her jaw open to near limits to avoid hitting it with her teeth, but she managed to get it past the gums with careful navigation of her master’s most precious body part.
With the bull’s cock inside, she began sucking on it, her skills at the task having been greatly increased during her time at The Society. While it wasn’t as simple as deepthroating a stallion’s penis, the motions were all the same. Using her lips, she sealed the space between her flesh and her master’s, and created a vacuum within her orifice by removing the air, or in this case the water, that filled her muzzle. Of course, she knew that sucking with all one’s might was not enough to provide the most pleasurable experience for the minotaur, so her tongue joined in by moving around, sliding across whatever parts it could reach, alternating between light grazes and firm presses, doing whatever it could to bring satisfaction to the minotaur.
It was all going very well in Scylla’s mind, until she felt a splash in the water, and the feeling of a large hand landing on the back of her head. It was obviously Rubric’s hand finding rest on the back half of her skull, but Scylla had sucked off enough stallions to know what that gesture implied. It meant that the minotaur was ready to go further, and would take the blow job to its next phase, to send the cock down her throat to let it finish the job. At first she felt that it was just the natural progression of this sort of interaction, but it quickly dawned on her that she hadn’t taken any of the drugs usually given to her that allowed her to accommodate the massive size of a minotaur cock. She had never taken Rubric down her throat before, even with the medication. And without it, the process might have been impossible.
Well… impossible was not the right word. It was totally possible that Rubric, with all his strength, could force himself all the way down to her stomach. The results of doing so, without her body having the elastic qualities gifted to her by the minotaur breeding drugs, would not be pleasant. Tearing would be a given, at the very least, and it would more likely be worse than that. It was very likely that such a thing could even be fatal, depending on how harshly Rubric decided to pound her throat.
With those thoughts coming to her, Scylla froze, realizing that her fate was now in Rubric’s powerful hand. She could struggle, but no doubt that would be seen as her renigging on the agreement they came to, and Rubric could easily overpower her and force the action if she tried to avoid it. If Rubric wanted to be in her throat, he would end up there. All Scylla could do was wait for it to happen.
Surprisingly, that initial push into a world of pure suffering never came, no matter how long Scylla remained tensed up. Instead, the minotaur just gave her head a firm rub through her mane. He was petting her, and nothing more. Of course, he wasn’t being gentle about it, but that was from his strength being too great for him to do it any lighter. Upon noticing this, Scylla relaxed, and went back to work, relieved that he had decided to let her go at her own pace for this. His lenience was a blessing, one she would have never expected from the brute minotaur.
From there, Scylla picked up her pace, slurping hard on her master’s shaft, pushing it as far back as it would go without entering her esophagus, and giving it all the attention she could manage with her tongue. Scylla managed to do this for an incredibly long time, bobbing her head up and down, sliding the head of the dick in and out of her muzzle, never needing to remove it completely for a breath, since her gills allowed her to breathe while performing her extended fellatio. On occasion the stiff rob would show its approval for her actions by tensing up, which caused it to flick a few times into the roof of her mouth, hitting with the force of a light punch, but Scylla didn’t care at this point. Such light punishment was nothing compared to what could have happened, and she could see now that she had to look at the bright side of this situation.
After a few more ‘punches’ of that nature, it became time that the minotaur received the end of his service from his slave, and one final spasm came from his bullhood as warning that his climax was emanated. Sensing its arrival, Scylla made a quick choice, and gave the dick one final trip to the back of her muzzle. As a show of her absolute submission, she would drink her master’s seed straight from the tap, an act of dedication she hoped he would appreciate.
The moment his tip pressed slightly into the passage, it released a flood of jism, which the aquatic mare immediately went to gulping down as quickly as she could. She wasn’t certain that she could get every bit of it, as minotaur seemed to cum literal buckets full at a time, but she would try her best to swallow as much of the sticky fluid as she could stomach. It didn’t take long for her to see what a daunting task she had placed on herself, made only harder by all the food she ate earlier. Her stomach, already near capacity, couldn’t handle the volume of fluids the kelpie was trying to swallow, and the sperm made its way back up the pipe leading to it just on the merit that it couldn’t contain anything more.
Not expecting such a reaction, Scylla continued to try and drink, but once her insides became flooded, she ended up forcing the cum down her windpipe instead on accident. Fortunately for her, much of it was expelled out of her gills, so none of the thick fluid made it to her lungs. Unfortunately, this caused them to get gunked up with semen, making them incapable of filtering oxygen. This was the last straw, as the kelpie found herself for the first time drowning. She pulled the dick away from her mouth, and pushed against the hand on her head to breach the water. The minotaur, seeing the kelpie in distress, released her, allowing her to surface, as she coughed, sputtered, and gasped for air.
“Are you okay?” Rubric said, showing as much concern as he could while staying seated in his spot.
Scylla spent nearly a minute coughing cum out from her throat, directly into the pool, but found herself able to take breaths in between. It was getting to a point that Rubric was starting to become actually concerned, but was relieved when his slave finally said, “I’m fine. I just…”. She didn’t finish her sentence though, instead just taking a few more deep breaths and coughing out what bits of minotaur spunk remained in her air passage, then dipping her neckline underneath the water to clean out any that still clogged her fleshy water filters.
Having made sure that the mother of his future child was safe, Rubric relaxed, gave a laugh, and reached forward to pull Scylla up to him. “I’ve heard of an angry dragon before, but I think that’s the first time anyone’s seen an angry leviathan.”
Scylla grumbled, getting his sex joke, having heard of what an ‘angry dragon’ meant from one of her erotic novels. She didn’t find it all that funny, having been choked by the bull’s cum, but she could only be so mad at her master for something she caused herself.
It took a bit for Rubric to settle down, but when he did, he told the girl held in his arm, “Ok, I think for now that proves your dedication. We can try this relationship plan of yours, talk out some sort of agreement, and so long as you do everything I demand of you in it, we’ll see if we can’ make your motherhood more pleasant.”
With that, Scylla had essentially confirmed that she would be able to create some form of life for herself that wasn’t complete suffering. For as twisted as it was, by conceding to her rapist, she had gained a lot of ground. It cost her every bit of her freedom, dignity, and the life she once had, but that was going to be taken from her one way or another. Defeatist as it might have been, it was better to give those things away in exchange for some perks, than to have it stripped away for nothing.
“Then if you accept my idea,” Scylla said, having cleared her gills of cow spunk, “I’d like to make a suggestion.”
“Already trying to get the upper hand, are you?” Rubric said, wary about what the kelpie would try to get from him.
Scylla climbed up the minotaur’s body, and whispered into his ear. As she started talking, the bull shifted his expression from mildly apprehensive, to neutral, before going wide eyed at what Scylla had asked for.
“Do you know how much that would cost me?” he said, thrown for a loop at Scylla’s request.
“But you already said that if I wanted an assistant for any projects I’d have, then you’d get me one.” Scylla replied, acting innocently as she did what she could to make her wish a reality, “You are a successful slaver, right? You should have enough money, right?”
Rubric took a moment to think it over, estimating how much he actually had compared to the price of Scylla’s request. It was not enough to break his bank account, but he would have to cut back on his own comforts.
“Fine,” he conceded, “But understand that I’ll be your assistant’s master too. That means that I’ll get to use them as well.”
Scylla gave a nod to the ground rules her master had presented, “You’re the master. What you say goes, for the rest of my life.”
Rubric gave one final huff, and pulled his breeding slave into a one armed embrace, “You are the biggest investment I’ve ever made, you know that?”
For some reason, those words comforted Scylla. While there was nothing reassuring, kind, or romantic in them by themselves, there was a hidden meaning to them if one wanted to read between the lines. The minotaur might have viewed Scylla as merely property, another slave to add to his collection of females, but Rubric had put more into her than anything else. One does not waste energy on things they are not obligated to do, unless they enjoy and appreciate it. If Scylla was right about the cultural differences the minotaur held, this might have been as close as one would ever get to saying ‘I love you’.
“And that’s what happened today,” Scylla said, sitting on the mattress of a bed in a small room.
After the talk, the kelpie spent more time swimming around the pool, enjoying herself, before being delivered to a room Schorl had set up for her to stay when not performing her duties. It was a nice room, if sparsely furnished, having only a modest sized bed, bathroom, and even a nightstand that held a few sex toys inside to keep the kelpie occupied, which she didn’t use for a particular reason.
It also held a large birdcage hanging from the ceiling, one big enough to cramptly hold a pegasus, which it currently was. From the moment Scylla got this room, she had shared it with an unusual roommate; her own father.
From what Scylla was told, Schorl had made Pathfinder an offer of some sort that led to them having a room they could share with one another, keeping them out of the slave kennels, but if came with some caveats. Firstly, the pegasus was to remain caged while in the room, as he was not trusted enough to not try some fruitless plan of escape for reasons no one would explain to Scylla. Secondly, he had to wear a gag that completely covered his muzzle, which was paddle to such a degree that he couldn’t speak through it. Schorl said this was because she felt Path would be a bad influence on Scylla, as he was not as far along in his training as she was, and might try to fill her head with foolish ideas of freedom. Thirdly, for whatever reason, the crystal mare had her father dressed in girl’s clothing, consisting of his slave collar, a tank top cut at the waist to expose his stomach, a skirt so mini that a pony could see almost everything a skirt is designed to conceal, and absolutely nothing else.
Scylla could tell that her father was humiliated being seen like that, and it was slightly awkward for Scylla to see her father looking more like a sister. She was even a little jealous, cause Pathfinder was a very pretty mare with the way he was gussied up. Schorl sure knew how to make this arrangement as uncomfortable, but Scylla was still glad her father was around so she could have someone to talk to. Path didn’t always enjoy the topics she spoke of, with what little there was to chat about within the Society’s facility, but he was happy to know that Scylla was at least safe.
“Dad…” Scylla said, having brought up before how she reached an agreement with her minotaur master, “I think I’m really gonna do it. It might not be the life I thought I wanted, but if I have no other choice, then I think I want to stop fighting the Society and be my master’s slave.”
Path’s brow furrowed, and he silently shook his head.
“I know,” Scylla replied, “Everything I knew before we came here tells me I shouldn’t, but Rubric is actually kinda nice when you get to know him. Maybe you should talk to him sometime.”
Pathfinder really disliked that, giving an angry snort out the small opening in his muzzle that allowed him to breath through his nostrils. Scylla figured that would be his reaction, and rightfully so, but she was dead set on trying to make this work somehow for herself, since she was given no options except to be the wife of a minotaur.
Having been through a long, if relaxing, day, the kelpie could feel her stamina drain and fatigue set in. She gave a loud yawn, her body telling her she was at her limit. “I’ll talk to you more about it in the morning. I think Lady Tourmaline is still making me work a few more days before she puts me on training only, so I had better get some sleep.”
Scylla laid down on her bed, turning her front to the wall to face away from Path, who reluctantly curled up in his cage to go to be himself. As she did though, she tossed her arm over a large object that had been already laying in her bed. Object was a poor term though, as what was in her bed was a creature, another slave, one that she had suggested to her master to acquire, that being the dragon she spoke to in the pool room.
Scylla enjoyed the company of the dragon, and thought that having a dragon assistant would be neat. How many ponies could say that they had a dragon to do day to day tasks? She also liked the idea of doing… other things with the dragon, seeing as Mina showed interest in sex with ponies, and Scylla wasn’t opposed to screwing a dragon either. Her only concern earlier was Mina not consenting, which the dragon had long since dismissed as a possibility. So before she left the pool, she asked Rubric to have Mina delivered to her room that night, so she could have some fun with her. The minotaur accepted the request, paid for full ownership of Mina, and had her bound and delivered to Scylla’s bed as the kelpie had one final swim around the pool.
Now Mina was Scylla’s, to do with as she wished, and that night she was going to… do nothing. She couldn’t very well have sex right in front of her father, that would be far too uncomfortable for both him and her. She could tease the girl though, which delighted Scylla in its own way. So with her naked body snuggling up to the dragon, who had her legs and arms bound with thick straps that kept the pairs of limbs connected to their counterparts, the kelpie made efforts to go to sleep.
For Mina though, there was no way she would be able to do the same. She was finding it insanely difficult not to squirm and squeal, put into a position she had only fantasized of prior. She was laying there, with a pony, a very unique one at that, using her body as a pillow. For a pony fanatic like herself, it was impossible to sleep when she was living her dream. The only thing that could make this night any better was if the kelpie would actually use her body, but that would have to wait for another time. For now, Mina would have to settle for receiving the affectionate touch of her new, adorable pony mistress.
Author's Note
Hey everyone. Been a while since I updated, and wanted to do one of my faux introspective post chapter bits. But first, I would like to point out today's MLP cameo, Mina The Dragon from the MLP comic series.
Now that that's out of the way, let's get to the topic of the day, which spinning my wheel of horrible things to discuss, I got... RAPE CULTURE. You know, that idea that our social norms are endorsing sexual abuse, or some nonsense like that. Well... I suppose one could see that as being a thing in our everyday lives if they only live in the internet. I mean look at me, here typing out story after story of people being sexually violated over and over again. I would argue though that these stories are only fantasy, and intentionally made to show scenarios that NORMAL people would probably not enjoy, seeing as I would in no way classify myself as normal .
However, I would also argue that the notion of "rape culture" is a bunch of bollocks. We all know the chorus to this song by now. That that the things in rape fiction, or in things like hentai animations, are seldom actually endorsed by those who watch it, that people just like it cause it's kinky stuff that spices up sexual fantasy, yatta yatta, all those things that people would actually know if they did 10 minutes of research in the topic.
So instead of talking about silly stuff like that, I want to discuss the idea of an actual culture of rape, or... what if there was a civilization where rape was the only means they could reproduce. Of course, I am touching upon the topic of the minotaur species presented in this story. They are, in a literal sense, a "rape culture", as females (and males) simply don't want to put themselves through the physical pain that would come with trying to stuff 2+feet of cow cock in their sex holes. For these creatures, if not for the sake of them capturing creatures and forcing themselves upon others, they would be extinct within a generation. So this brings up a question: Let's say that the minotaur have similar moral standards to us. That they believe raping another creature is just inherently wrong. What do they do? One might say that they should find alternative methods of breeding, but lets say isn't possible. Is the only moral answer that they let themselves die out? Is extinction of a species even a moral option to begin with? Is preservation of one's species something to be perused, no matter what?
Perhaps at that point, where the minotaur have no "good" options, they just have to do what they see as best for themselves, which is what most people do anyways, morals be damned. One could even make the argument that it is other species that have the moral low ground in this situation, because they would be willing to let the minotaur die out, simply because they don't want to suffer for the benefit of civilization/species outside of their own.
Then again, what about the dragons (at least how they are depicted in this chapter). Based off of some ideas presented in MLP canon, it would not be a stretch to believe that Dragons go through some sort of mating habit based on rape/enslavement of weaker creatures, mostly other dragons that live in the dragon lands. Smolder said it herself, dragons love to dominate weaker creatures, and the eggs from the hatchery episode didn't really look like they came from a full sized dragon XD. But in a culture where "rape" is the way creatures mate, wouldn't normalizing it be seen as a necessary evil, if even an evil in the first place? I suppose what I'm thinking here is that if "rape culture" were really a thing, it would be so common place that no one would call it out as "rape culture", as it would just be how things are. One does not question spanking a child in a culture where that is seen as the only form of correcting a child, so in a way having enough agency to point out the notion of "rape culture" sort of cancels the very premise out to begin with, at least in my mind.
Of course, we as human beings don't (and shouldn't) base our every action on some notion of moral standards, since everyone's morals are different. So long as you aren't a complete monster IRL, it's probably fine to read a story where some guy or girl is dragged into a dark room to have their bodies defiled by some other party's sex organs. It's not gonna make you into a rapist to be into some dark fantasy, and those who worry about that shit all the time most likely have too much free time on their hands, or are trying to deflect their own perversions by demonizing someone else. Damned people and their morality fetishes.
Anywho, that's enough rambling from me. Hope you all liked the chapter, and have a nice day. ^_^
