Crimson Prose

by Nightprincessluna

Rating: mature
Tags: Original Character, Sex, Fetish, Suicide / Self Harm, Horror, Profanity, Non-consensual, Violence, Death, Narcotics, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe, Romance
Length: 7279

Hatter gets beat up, toutured and then raped by Crimson Prose.

My edgy OC Hatter, gets raped, tortured and then raped again by Headless Rainbow's edgy OC, Crimson Prose. There are going to be weird kinks, such as breath play, skinning, breath play with tea.... Just don't read it if you don't like hardcore things, OK? Also. The good bits start in the second chapter.

Published 2017-11-08 19:00:11 UTC
Last updated 2018-01-01 13:53:53 UTC

The Beginning

Cold. Cold and uncomfortable. Cardboard was just about the most uncomfortable thing to sleep on in the world. Even though it did help to insulate him from the ground, every joint and bone in his body was still aching horribly. He tried to pull the thin blanket tighter around himself and drift back into the realm of sleep where the cold could not bother him.

But it was not happening. Hatter groaned, slowly dragging himself to his hooves. His horn glowed to life beneath a battered black top hat and folded up the filthy blanket with practised motions. He then put it away inside one of the many pockets that lined the inside of his jacket. It was the only other scrap of clothing he owned, and without it he would have likely frozen to death. He was a hat maker, so had cobbled it together himself, with all the pockets he would ever need.

The issue was that other ponies did not need to sleep on the street, so therefore they did not normally need clothes unless it was for a special occasion. To buy fabric good enough to make clothes designed for that, he needed money, and to get money, he needed ponies to buy his clothes. And that paradox was the reason he was sleeping on the street.

Still, life could be worse. He stretched out his limbs, groaning happily as several of his bones popped and clicked. Right. Time to start the day. His emerald green eyes scanned quickly around the back alley he had chosen to sleep in, quickly finding the exit. His hooves clattered against the cold stone as he trotted off, ready to start his day.

Celestia had awoken before him, and the sun was beginning its ascent in the sky. He pulled the brim of his hat over his eyes and gave a grumble, begrudgingly beginning to trot past all the brightly coloured ponies that were also beginning to start their day, waving happily to each other and giving sickly sweet smiles. He hated their bright colours, the smiles, everything about them. His own ash gray coat was far easier on the eyes.

He tried to ignore them as he moved through the town, before settling on a spot that looked good. His horn glowed to life, setting out a simple cardboard sign with hat prices on it. He plonked himself down next to it with a huff, wondering if he would be earning enough to eat today. He just needed to wait now. So that is what he did. He waited.

And waited

And then he waited some more.

And then it was lunch time. He groaned, standing up and cursing as the sun got in his eyes. Another day of everything going wrong.
“Hello?” A voice suddenly sounded from next to him. Naturally, he jumped out of his skin with a spluttering of curses, turning as quickly as he could to the source of the voice. And he was instantly taken aback.

Before him was the most beautiful pony he had ever seen in all the many years of his life. Her hair was the lightest pink, her eyes the darkest crimson and her fur the purest white. He tried his best not to gawk openly at her, although he did get enough of a look at her flank to see her cutiemark. It was a crimson quill pen and a pool of crimson ink.

“Hello?” She repeated, sounding genuinely concerned about the state of his mental health with how he was gawking at her. He shook his head, blinking as his brain rapidly fumbled for a response.
“Yes. Hello. I what can for do you?” He spat.

Well, he had almost done it. He had got all the right words out, they had just got jumbled up on the way out. He blinked slowly, looking towards her as he waited for her response. She blinked back at him as her brain tried to put his words in the right order.
“I...I want to buy a hat?” The unicorn tried, hoping that she had translated him correctly.

Hatter made hats, he could help with that! He smacked himself with a hoof, readjusted his smile and nodded, floating out a notepad and a pen with his apple green magic. “What kind of hat do you want?” He asked, pulling out a measuring tape. He noticed that the end of her ear was damaged, slightly tattered. She gave a slight smirk that sent a shudder down his spine.
“Well, I quite like your hat...” She purred, leaning in close as she grinned like a Cheshire cat.

Was she coming on to him? Surely not! And then she turned, her pink tail brushing against his face. He had never blushed so hard in his life. She begin to trot off towards an alleyway and he quickly followed, his own face baring a grin like an open wound. He would not be hungry for much longer, and this mare looked delicious. He felt like a giddy school filly.

Once they where away from prying eyes, the mare leant against a wall, hiking up her tail as Hatter rushed up behind her. That would have been the end of it too, but because of the massive amount of arousal and excitement rushing through him, he slipped up. He pulled his straight razor from his jacket, flicking it to unfold the blade from the oaken handle. But he had fumbled, and as the blade closed in on her neck, she gave a laugh.

Instead of flesh, his razor found the steel of a knife. He internally winced, razors were very sharp but very brittle, and he was sure that had not done it any favours. He slowly looked up, staring at the mare. Her grin had turned sadistic, her horn was glowing a deep crimson and she was currently holding a kitchen knife in it, which had managed to block his own razor with ease.

They shared a few moments of staring once again, before Hatter broke the silence.
“Oh.. Oh fuck.”
And then she laughed, a sweet laugh for a sweet mare. But too much sweet stuff gave you diabetes, and as his heart sank in his chest, that felt exactly like what had happened.
“I recognised that look in your eyes instantly, you fool. You have the eyes of a killer,” She looked over to his razor, “From your weapon of choice, I guess you are the pony that has been carving up and eating all those innocent mares.”

The act was over. Hatter begin to give a psychotic titter, licking his lips before his head jolted forward, jaws snapping an inch from her face. She did not seem phased in the slightest, shoving his blade away. He went to bite her, and then the handle of her knife bit him, smacking with insane force into the side of his head..

With that, everything begin to go dark, and suddenly the floor was getting uncomfortably close to his face. Consciousness left him just as he sprawled out across the floor, the last sight he saw the mare leering down at him, and the last thought that went crashing through his head was of just how very fucked he was.

Stuff Hattens

Hatter grumbled, his head really hurt. That was normal, he had likely been drinking or something. But something was not right. His body felt strangely comfortable. His eyes snapped open as he looked around. He was on his back with his limbs sprawled out to the side, his back curved at an odd angle on the cold stone floor. By Celestia was it comfortable.

He stood up, and there was a clanking noise from behind him. He turned, frowning at the thick iron chain behind him. Hatter followed it back to where it was set into the stone wall. It was a dark room, made of stone, it had chains in it...

Yep, this was a rape dungeon. He tugged softly on the thick leather collar around his neck and chuckled softly. Suddenly a candle flickered to life, lighting up a small wooden table with two cushions set out on it. Sat at the table was the mare that had managed to knock him out. He nodded to her before speaking. “What’s up?”

She did not seem phased by his casual response in the slightest, waving him over to the table with a hoof as her crimson eyes peered into his soul. He grinned softly, sitting down at the table across from her. “Say, can you add some more padding to this collar? It is starting to chafe.”
She chuckled at his words “You will not be keeping up that attitude for long,” She pulled out her kitchen knife, “Especially once I start playing with you.”

Hatter smirked “You can play with me all you want sweetie.”
Suddenly her horn glowed a bright crimson, the kitchen knife slashing across his cheek. He winced, blood dribbling from the wound and down the side of his face.
“Rule one. You will call me Crimson Prose, Mistress, or Mistress Crimson. If you don’t, I will slay you.”
“Baby, you can slay me any time you want.” He replied with a seductive wink, and suddenly there was a knife buried in his shoulder.

White hot daggers of pain shot through his body, which was weird considering he had been stabbed with a knife. A pained grin spread across his face at his own insanity driven thoughts as he fell back onto the floor, a hoof clutching at the knife as stars danced across his vision. He could hear screaming faintly in the distance, he was confused for a moment before he recognised it as his own.

To top it all off, rather then rushing to his brain, his blood decided to rush to his penis. It throbbed to life slowly between his legs, the pleasant sensation drowned out by the pain. He managed to prise one eye open to glare at the travel sized appendage between his legs, before it snapped shut as the knife was torn out of him. Blood slowly rose out of the hole, staining his ash gray fur a darker shade.

He prised his eyes open to look at Crimson Prose, who was currently stood above him, one strand of pink hair flopped over her eyes, which were locked in a disgusted expression at the horse meat between his legs. “You are a pathetic creature. I expected more from the Trottingham terror.”
Despite the pain, and against what little better judgement he had, Hatter managed to retort with “Oh… How.. Sweet… You are using my… Criminal name. Must be hard knowing you will… Never be as good as me.”

That got one of her perfect white hooves planted straight into his foal orbs, turning his words to a scream, and finally into a screech. “You forget, I just beat you. Now. Tell me your name.”
“H-” Hatter begin, getting another kick in the balls.
“Wrong!” Crimson screeched, her crimson orbs staring crushingly down at him, like gateways to some hellish dimension filled with rage. “Your name is Bitch, or Slut. You got that.”
“This sure is kin-” Another sentence cut off by agony, his balls now throbbing, bruised and beginning to swell. He bit onto his hoof to prevent himself from crying as her magic suddenly wrapped around him.

With the chain rattling loudly, Hatter was sent flying backwards until he smashed into the wall, bringing him to an abrupt stop. He was so dazed he did not even notice Crimson approaching until his mind stopped spinning, and by that point she was right in front of him. She had gotten a hammer and several short lengths of pole from somewhere, and was grinning sadistically at him. No matter how much pain he was in, her smile still looked beautiful. “I am going to teach you a lesson, make you into my toy, train you until I am the only thing that brings you pleasure in this world. Then I am going to send you from the mortal coil while you scream my name and beg for more.”

Hatter was about to make another witty remark when a length of the pole floated over, pressing into his left forelimb, just above the hoof. Then he realised what she had in mind, and suddenly his mind was tripping over itself, witty remarks and puns leaving him. Then her laugh rang out, smooth like chocolate, sliding into his ear like honey, making his cock throb in lustful awe of this mare.

The heavy sledge hammer swung forward, driving the length of metal into his flesh with a spurt of blood. He started screaming and her laughter jumped an octave, the hammer swinging forward again and driving the pole down to his bone. He could fucking feel it against his bone! This was sick!

Thankfully, one of his bouts of insanity found him just then, and he was laughing too. His insides felt fluttery and everything seemed so very funny. Crimson did not seem to see the funny side, her laughter winding down as another of those seductive scowls matted her face. She hit the pole so hard it shattered his bone like sugar glass and dug into the concrete beneath. Even his insanity had enough by that point, his screams returning far higher in pitch. She smiled again, giving it one final smack that made his vision turn white. And then she moved to his other forelimb, and darkness begin to edge into his vision.

Sweet unconsciousness would take him soon, and it would all be over. His head slumped forward, all the pride and wit leaving him at the same time as his strength. He tried to black out, to not notice how sore and dry his throat was, how his hot life blood was dribbling down his broken limbs, or how she was now working on his hind limbs.

Her horn glowed brighter, and suddenly unconsciousness was snatched away from him, his screeching starting anew as his vision cleared, every injury in his body once again warning him that he was being damaged. He begin cursing her, spittle raining from his lips as she worked on the final limb.

Hatter was now spread eagled, pinned to a wall with all his limbs screaming at him. Yet, as she finished on his final limb and stepped away, his screaming stopped. His head might have been slumped forward, but even so, Crimson still caught the grin that was spreading across his face. She let out an audible gasp of shock that only made the smile get bigger. “What in Celestia’s name is your problem?” She asked, her voice showing hints of panic before she regained her calm. “No matter. This is only going to make breaking you that much more fun.”

Hatter raised his head, grunting with the effort before finding his voice “Cannot… wait.”
Her knife stabbed into his right hind leg, just above where the pole was, making him throw his head back and curse. It was not deep at all, only barely breaking the skin, yet with all the pain already happening, it was more then enough.

And then the knife begin to move upwards, driving more curses from him as he begin to writhe like a fish out of water. Each movement made the poles move inside his wounds, driving the pain higher like a terrible symphony. His eyes fluttered, the knife moving up in time with his screeches, stopping once it reached his hip.

He thought it was over, until she peeled his skin back like a banana, exposing the raw, red muscle beneath. It convulsed softly in response to his pain, and burned at being exposed to the air. She pinned the flaps of skin back, dissecting him like a frog.

His eyes would not open at this point, but he could tell when she started on his remaining hindlimb. He was barely suppressing his screams at this point, and had managed to surprise even himself in doing so. His teeth were sinking so hard into his lip that blood was now dribbling from it, joining the flow from his cheek as it dripped to the floor. There was now a small puddle forming with the mix of blood from all the various wounds, and the tears he had not realised were dripping down his cheeks.

She finally finished, stepping back to admire her work with a smile. Hatter was panting, his eyes were rolled back in their sockets to almost show the whites, and yet he had done it. He had defied being broken, and he had not even begged once in doing so.

She floated out a container of some sort, he was seeing double so he could not quite make it out. He blinked away the tears in his eyes, forcing them to focus on the object. He instantly regretted it. It was a large tub of salt, and not even the good sort, the kind you would use to de-ice a road!

This did make him beg. “Oh Celstia… Fuck! Please… Don’t No…. I… Please...” He spluttered, staring pleadingly down at her. She just gave a cold smirk, twisting the lid off the tub.
“Say my name. Beg, beg to be my slutty little snuff pet.” Hatter was beyond witty remarks by this point.
“Please… Mistress… Crimson. Have mercy on,” He had to pause, trying not to spit out the next words like the poison they were “On your slutty little snuff pet.”

She seemed pleased at this “Good boy!” She praised, following it with a smirk that wiped out all of Hatter’s hope. “But not good enough.” The container tipped, the salt pouring from it in a cascade of agonizing crystals. It touched the bare muscle of his legs, and scream could not even describe the noise that left Hatter’s throat.

It was not a noise that a pony would make to warn everything around them that they were in pain. It was a noise that a pony with no hope would make, simply because it was better then doing nothing, and might help to block out even a tiny portion of the pain.

But it did not do anything for the indescribable sensation tearing Hatter apart. Crimson had emptied the tub, and was now rubbing it into his tissue with her magic while staring up at his hope deprived eyes. Hatter barely noticed that one of her hooves was buried between her hind legs, openly masturbating to him.

Hatter realised at that moment, that somehow, he was still erect. His own body did not seem to care if it was being damaged, it was still focusing on the other base desire that all animals had. He realised just how helpless he was, and he also realised that sooner or later he was going to break, and it would be better for him if he did it sooner. Her magic suddenly cut off as she stared at his tiny cock.

“This is adorable, even in the state you are in, you still cannot defy how much you want me.” She trotted over, and Hatter tried to shrink back into the wall. He was starting to feel light headed from blood loss, and he was sure that if he kept at it, he could die before she could do anything. Crimson licked her lips, standing on her hind legs. Her muzzle stopped an inch from the base of his shaft as she leant on the wall.

“For being a good pet, I will at least show you one inch of mercy, a taste of what you will get if you keep being good.” Hatter did not dignify that with a response, still sniffling and sobbing away as the salt dried out his muscle tissues.

Crimson did not dare touch his shaft with her muzzle, but she reached up one of her perfectly manicured hooves and pressed it to the base of his shaft, starting to slowly rub it up and down the modest member. Hatter might have been in too much agony to enjoy it, but his traitorous body did the responding for him, his shaft starting to throb happily against the frog of her hoof.

He suddenly hated the fact he had a hoof fetish. There was a small speck of pleasure however, and with the darkness of pain all around, it shone like a beacon. He swallowed up his pride and begin to softly buck his hips, grinding them against the rough base of her hoof with a pleased mutter between his gasps of pain. His balls might have hurt like Tartarus but it was clear he was going to cum from this.

Crimson realised that he was bucking his hips, and she stopped her stroking, simply letting him do all the work with a bored expression. Each thrust shifted the poles in his wounds and sent pain rocking through him, but with it came a burst of pleasure, and soon they melded together into one. Hatter groaned, arching his back as his thrusting got faster, his throbbing member rubbing against the hard keratin of her hoof, loving the warmth that radiated from off of her frog.

Soon his cock twitched, and pre spurted from the tip, pathetically drooling down it and onto her hoof, acting as a lubricate against the roof outer surface. This was when his thrusting really picked up, his light headedness was getting so bad he knew he could pass out at any moment, so he had to do it quickly. He ignored the pain, focusing only on the pleasure now.

His cock throbbed, twitched, but no matter how hard he tried the orgasm would not arrive. He groaned again and Crimson openly yawned at him, looking bored despite the fact her horn was glowing, rapidly and secretly stimulating her fun button.
“Slut, my patience wears thin.”

Hatter panted, groaned, back arching and then.

His left hoof slipped free of the metal pole that was running through it, and his other limbs quickly followed. The flaps of skin fared better, holding him up long enough to slam him into the wall before tearing.

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. As his cock impacted the cold stone it suddenly let out a series of spasms. Pleasure tore into him, and for the briefest moment it managed to drown out the pain. He hit the ground in that moment, body curling up as his bare muscle tissue rubbed against the stone floor. His eyes rolled around in his head, and as he attempted to curl into a ball his cock suddenly sent thick ropes of stallion seed splattering along the cold stone floor.

Crimson stepped back as one splattered too close to her, watching the strange stallion as he convulsed on her floor in a puddle of his own blood and tears. She was glad that she had captured him, she loved a challenge, and he was certainly proving to be just that. He was going to be so much fun to fully break in.

She hit her own orgasm to the thought of all the games they were going to play, her magic finally over stimulating her clit. She did not convulse in an uncontrolled fashion like the slutty stallion before her, she just let out a low grunt, eyes fluttering as her foal hole milked a non existent length. She closed her eyes, riding it out with a content sigh before snapping them open again just in time to notice how much blood her pet had lost.

When Hatter finally came down from his high, he was sure that his body had finally hit his limit and he was going to pass out from blood loss, but Crimson must have noticed, because her magic wrapped around him, stopping the light-headedness, but doing nothing for the pain.

She looked down at him and smiled, “That was really fun slut. We are going to play like that every single day until I get bored and end your pathetic excuse for a life.”
Hatter’s hooves went to the collar around his neck as he gave a slow nod, clinging to the leather restraint like a comforting device. All this had worn him down, and he needed sleep. His eyes closed, and to his surprise, his Mistress did nothing to stop him.

Crimson gazed at the stallion as he curled up in his own rapidly clotting blood and begin to drift off to sleep. Such a strange creature he was. She got a weird feeling in her chest, and for a moment she was worried it might have been regret. But before she could decide for sure, it was gone again, vanishing into the abyss of her mind.

She floated Hatter from out of the pool of blood slowly, patching up his legs slowly with a spell, just enough to get them on the way to healing. Then she floated a cushion over from the table, placing Hatter down onto it.

She did not know what she was doing, but she moved over to him, noting the slight smile on his lips before she planted a kiss onto his forehead, just below his horn. “Sweet dreams Pet, sweet dreams.”
With that, she turned and left him be for the night.

Breaking Point

``` Hatter was hunkered down in a hastily dug trench which spread across the landscape like a scar. His horn was glowing, and his magic was wrapped around the wooden handles of to a pair of serrated trench knives. His heart was beating out of his chest, his breath was coming in rapid bursts. This was war.

He looked to the left, to a huge, scar matted lilac stallion. He was a titan, standing almost twice the height of Hatter with muscles that made his limbs look comparable to tree trunks. Each of his colossal limbs ended in blood caked steel horse shoes that had crushed dozens to death this night alone.

The name of this seemingly unstoppable warrior? Lavender the Barbarian. “Lav! They've got us pinned down here! We need to retreat to the other trench!” As if to illustrate his point, a white furred earth pony in gold armour leapt into the trench and tried to run the giant pony through with a spear. Lavender stepped to the side with a speed unbefitting his size.

He kicked the spear out of the ponies mouth like it was nothing more then a stick. Then he spun, his rear hoof smashing into the gorget of the stallion’s armour, caving in the metal and his throat with equal ease. He left the stallion choking to death on his own blood as he faced Hatter.

“We don’t need to retreat just yet. We need to give the others as much time to prepare as possible!” “That’s easy for you to say,” A third member of their group said, a light blue stallion with a spear wedged in his side, “You’re not the one with a big pointy-”

He was suddenly cut off by a scream as the fourth member of their group tore the spear from his side, quickly getting to work sewing and bandaging up the wound. Her name was Necrosis and she was a dark brown egasus pony, and ironically for her name, she was the medic of their group.

Hatter peaked up over the edge of the trench “Oh fuck. Oh FUCK! We’ve really got to go!” He suddenly yelled. Marching towards them was death on hoof, he assumed they looked the same as the normal guards, with white fur and a blue mane, but it was impossible to tell. Their helmets covered their whole head, apart from a pair of slits for eyeholes, and a dozen smaller holes to breath through.

They had huge gold riot shields with small rectangles cut out of them to see through. Hatter’s knives and Lavender’s hooves would not do anything against armour that thick, but that was far from their biggest problem. This was the elite sun guard, the best of the best, and where they went…

“Oh Luna! It’s her, It’s the sun goddess!” The blue stallion suddenly screamed, making Hatter snap his head to the sky, and their she was. She was flying high above them like the god she was, her mane was an inferno, her yellow eyes burned like a supernova.

She was the purest of whites, and wore the finest gold regalia. Yet she brought with her nothing but death. Hatter felt his heart sink in his chest at the same moment he saw her horn light up like the sun. Lavender barely gave the order to run when she finally weaved her spell. A huge column of fire shot from her horn and bisected the trench, running along it and incinerating everything in its path. It turned the water to steam, which cascaded towards him almost as quickly as the heat.

Hatter threw himself from the trench, galloping away before he fell onto his back, staring at the beam of pure white fire that was burning his friends and comrades with the same ease as the water. Lavender screamed as the steam hit him and begin to cook him alive. Thankfully Hatter did not see the beam hit him because of the thick layer of steam that was put out.

His whole body was numb as he watched, not even realising that his knives had clattered to the floor somewhere. He watched with horrified fascination as the steam slowly cleared. The earth had been baked hard and cracked like clay, his friends had been reduced to ash, and…

No, not all his friends had been reduced to ash, Rebound, the light blue stallion had been hit by the very edge of the beam, the heat had withered, blackened and warped his back legs, then had burnt and scared halfway up his back. He was still alive however, and he was screaming, slowly crawling towards him. His eyes were frantically begging for help, and Hatter could provide non.

He just stared at his friend, and his friend stared back with eyes that were filled with agony as he slowly did the only thing he could to make the pain stop.

And that was dying.

Hatter awoke in a cold sweat, his party healed wounds quickly bringing him back from the nightmarish reality of his dreams to the nightmarish reality of the waking world. He sat up on the soft cushion slowly, rubbing a hoof against the thick leather collar that was keeping him trapped here.

How long was he going to be trapped here in the hellscape before Crimson finally let death take him? Days, weeks, months… No, it was likely going to be years. He had made the mistake of entertaining her, and as a reward for that she was going to keep him as a pet. A pet that was going to be put through every hell on earth…

Well he was not going to play her game. His horn glowed to life and he grabbed the chain that kept him bound, then he begin to slowly wrap the cold metal around his collar, looping it over and over, pulling himself closer and closer to the wall with each loop. Finally he was at the hoop that held his chain in place, he looped it until his neck was pressed against this hoop, then he pulled the chain around once more, almost needing to stand on his hind hooves as it cut off the blood supply to his brain.

He could feel the chain through the gaps either end of his collar, like the cold hooves of death as they starved his brain of oxygen. He leaned against the wall and gave a smile, waiting for the end of his life like one would wait for a bus. Then the door swung open.

Hatter stared right into the eyes of Crimson Prose, and Crimson Prose stared right into the eyes of Hatter. “No! What are you doing!” She said, rushing over and spinning him around so that the chain loosened its grip around his neck. He coughed and spluttered, his traitorous body sucking in oxygen to keep itself alive.

His mistress pinned him down and stared him straight in the eyes. She did not look angry, she just looked kind of… Sad. He stared up at her as she held him down. “Why did you do this pet! I was just coming to tell you that I made you a wonderful breakfast and you’re trying to take yourself away from me!” She shook him softly, genuinely looking ready to cry.

He only managed to give a pathetic noise followed by a “Sorry.”

She dropped him back against the stone and sighed, kicking him softly in the gut before she undid his chain with a flash of her magic, then moved him over to the table and sat him at one of the cushions there. Then she moved off and just… left him there, feeling rather stupid with himself.

Hatter did not know he could go from hating somebody to feeling bad for hurting them so fast, and this mare had just done it to him again. He slowly looked up at the ceiling and sighed. All of a sudden he didn't want to die. This mare was fucking with his emotions. He hated it!

Then Crimson prose came back with two plates of pancakes held in her magic, and suddenly he was unable to hate her. She placed the plates down on the table and frowned at him. He looked down at the white porcelain plate, and at the fluffy disks placed on them. They were slathered in butter and syrup, and he could feel his mouth starting to water just from looking at them.

His limbs were still hurting like hell, but right now he was just focused on pancakes. She noticed him looking and gave a soft giggle that still managed to border on insanity. “You can eat them if you promise not to hurt yourself any more, only I get to hurt my pet!”

Her pet paused for a moment, thinking about it for a moment. “OK Mistress. Please can I have a fork?” He asked, putting on his politest voice. She paused for a moment, then floated over a fork from her plate for him, and a knife and a fork for herself.

Hatter took the fork in his magic and gingerly stabbed it into the plate of pancakes. He twisted it until a bit of pancake broke off, then floated the fork to his mouth, placing the buttery, syrupy treat in his mouth. He shuddered in bliss, working his tongue over the morsel before swallowing, feeling the sweet goodness slide down his gullet.

It was one of the most amazing things he had tasted in an age. He stabbed his fork into the pancakes again, tearing off another, larger chunk and stuffing it into his mouth. Crimson watched him eat with a slightly disturbing smile, seeming to enjoy the fact that he liked her food a bit too much.

“Did I put the right amount of butter and syrup on them?” She asked, to which Hatter gave a rapid nod, his mouth too full to respond with words. Her face seemed to light up even more at this, and she clapped her pristine white hooves together happily. “Good! I worked really hard making them, it took me aaaaallll morning.”

Hatter nodded rapidly at her words, greedily chewing down the pancake. He did not even comprehend them fully, he just wanted to be left alone to eat his delicious pancakes. His mouth was lighting up with the most amazing flavours ever, he wished he had a bigger mouth so that he could fit more of them in.

All too fast, he had eaten all the pancakes and was licking at the bottom of a very empty plate. She grinned softly at him as he finished the pancakes, before she suddenly moved over and wrapped her hooves tightly around his neck, nuzzling warmly into his neck. He let out a pleased noise, rubbing the fluff of his neck against her.

She then stepped back, keeping a hoof wrapped tightly around his horn before she slammed his head into the table. Hatter was caught totally off-guard by the attack, and only managed to stumble towards the wall in retaliation.

She pulled out her kitchen knife from somewhere, pinning him against the wall by his throat with a hoof as her expression turned dark. “I’m glad you enjoyed your pancakes pet, but you still hurt yourself, and for that you need to be punished!”

She held his head against the table, raising the kitchen knife with a mad glint in her eye. She was not using her magic, relying on the brute strength of her hooves. Hatter begin to struggle roughly, but he barely had time to do so before the knife came swinging down.

It came carving through the air, they carved straight through the base of his horn with equal ease. There was a tight bundle of nerves at the base of the horn that were destroyed by the knife, making it much harder for his horn to grow back.

That was the least of his worries however, because nerves were also used to send pain signals to the brain, and those pain nerves were currently firing off in a haywire fashion to warn him of the obvious fact that his horn had just been cut off. He screeched, eyes rolling back as his body begin to go haywire too.

His vision was white, everything he knew was pain. It was wrapped around his body like a blanket, trying to crush him alive. He struggled, feeling as if he was underwater. He scrambled and scraped at blanket mentally, trying to tear it away. But he couldn't, and it slowly pushed down on him, and he quickly fell into blackness.

He awoke a short while later, his head feeling like a dragon was going ten rounds with it. His mouth was dry and his limbs felt weak… But his chains! His chains were gone! He rubbed a hoof around the back of his neck just to check, and his chain was indeed gone!

He galloped around in a circle, just to test out his newfound freedom. He could run around the table, he could go to all four walls, he could even go to the door if he wanted.

Despite all this, he still did not feel quite free, and it was not until he begin vomiting all over one of the walls he realised why; His horn was gone. That bitch had dug the horn from his head while he had been passed out in a heap. No wonder he was having trouble thinking straight, an operation like that was sure to scramble a few things up.

He frowned, wiping the vomit from his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. He was nothing but a dumb earth pony now. In the least, he still had his trench coat. He couldn't live without the warmth that it provided. The jacket provided that tiny bit of protection that stopped him going totally insane. Without his horn, his skills and weapon of choice were all but useless.

He was not a war veteran any more, nor was he a famous killer. In one fell swoop Hatter had lost everything. He was just another earth pony now. He slowly sat down next to the puddle of vomit, casting his gaze around the cold stone walls that made up his room. For the first time, his veil of insanity slowly lifted, and the full weight of the situation begin to sink into him.

He had been captured by a psychotic mare, and now he did not have his magic or his weapons. She would be able to do whatever she wanted to him, and now there was nothing he would be able to do to stop her. In this moment of brief clarity, Hatter felt afraid.

So he started to cry. He did not feel it at first, his vision just started to get blurry as the tears built up. It was not until he felt the cold drops of water starting to roll down his cheeks he realised what was happening. It had been years since he had last cried, and the feeling was strange to the broken stallion.

He dabbed at the tears with a hoof, then brought the hoof out so that he could look at it. Crying was not something he did, crying was something other people did when he cut them open. He tried to justify the tears to himself, to make sense of them. But he couldn't, and the tears just got worse and worse until they were cascading down his face in a ceaseless torrent.

Hatter did not know what to do, so he did the only thing he could, and gave into the strange feeling that was tearing into him. A heart wrenching sob burst forth from his mouth, sounding more like a frightened school filly rather then a grown stallion. He leaned back against the wall, the stone holding him up as he let all the sadness out of him.

He was not the kind of pony that understood emotion very well, which feelings linked to which words confused him. Something had broken inside the stallion long ago, and ever since it had only been rare moments of clarity in which he could act like a normal pony. This was one of those times, and the weight of the situation he was in had come crashing down upon him all at once, like a speeding train.

He had still been trained as a mercenary however, and that sort of training did not just go away. The stallion allowed himself this moment of weakness, he let the tears and the sadness flow out of him, dripping to the floor next to the puddle of vomit.

Afterwards, he felt a lot better for having done so. His head was still going to be funny over the next few days, he had just had a life altering operation after all. But now he was much better. In his moment of clarity he had realised that he was fucked, so he should just submit to this mare, and hopefully she would be nice to him. If not, at least she would get bored quickly and kill him.

The stallion let out a sigh, then slowly moved over to the door and politely begin to knock on it. He needed to get his “mistresses’” attention. The word felt weird even when he was thinking it, but he was sure that in time, it would become second nature to him. He waited a few minutes, and then decided that she had gone out. A sigh escaped his lips as he slowly stepped away from the door, and as far from the puddle of sick as he could get.

Strange as it was, he was not worried, nor frightened any more. The only thoughts going through his head at the moment were him wondering when dinner time was going to arrive, he was starting to get hungry after vomiting all those no-longer delicious pancakes across the floor. His mistress was the best cook in the world, and he couldn't wait for her to come back!

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