Author's Note

So we (and by that I mean me and Scylla the Kelpie) are trying to give this concept another go. For those clicking this chapter first, this is a "Wish Corruption" story where people can request wishes in character for any MLP character from the shows, movies, or comics, and have them be granted, with terrible (and sometimes sexy) outcomes. All rules for this are in the first chapter, and we are hoping for a decent amount of fan participation to keep this going.

Note: all characters are adults in this chapter, and this setting doesn't follow any particular canon, so if something happens that would conflict with something from the show, don't worry about it too much. This is mostly a series about having fun at the expense of fictional characters, so relax and enjoy.

The Grand Feast of Prince Buudal

The line leading to Fluttershy’s cottage grew short as the day proceeded, as ponies got their wishes or had to leave due to prior obligations. Many didn’t want to leave, but Atamanna promised those that had to that she would be in Ponyville for some time, and this was not a one-day event. Those who remained in line were only the most dedicated to getting their heart’s desire, and as the sun started to set, there was only one pair left who had not seen the Djinn for their promised wish, that being Sandbar and Yona.

The yak practically hopped with joy as her anticipation reached its peak, having been promised by Atamanna that she would be would be seen before the goat closed shop for the day. “Wait till Sandbar sees it,” Yona said with glee. “Yaks are best at feasts. Food is so plentiful that it takes a week to go through it all.”

“I get that you want to throw a huge, Yak style party for all of us,” Sandbar said, “But don’t you think that is a bit excessive? Ocellus doesn’t even eat real food, so it’s gonna be just five of us going through it all.”

“Course not!” Yona answered, dismissing her friend’s concerns, “Yona has seen how Gallus and Smolder can down food. Silverstream will be so excited at the sight of it all and gobble down as much as Silverstream can, and Ocellus will be able to eat all the love Yona’s friends will have for the delicious Yak made banquete.”

Sandbar sighed, “Well, I guess there will be a lot of leftovers then. If anything, we could always share with the rest of the school.”

“Sandbar shouldn’t assume anything will be left,” Yona declared proudly, “Yona is gonna eat a whole table’s worth by herself.”

“I would not be surprised,” said a feminine voice coming from the entrance of the tent the earth pony stallion and the female yak had been standing in front of, as Atamanna made her appearance, “Yaks have always been the best when it comes to eating, and their cuisine is very delicious.”

“See! Goat woman gets it!” Yona exclaimed, happy that someone understood how great yak culture is when it comes to food.

Sandbar, however, took notice that only Atamanna herself had come to the exit, and no one else. Taking a look around to see if the pony who had entered before them had slipped by as he and Yona were talking, he still didn’t see any sign that anyone had left the tent.

“Looking for someone?” Atamanna asked, spotting the stallion’s confusion, “If you are wondering what happened to my last guest, I teleported them to their home as part of completing their wish, as that is something within my power. Surely this isn’t the first time you noticed someone not leaving my tent.”

“Oh, I guess I hadn’t noticed until now.” Sandbar replied, mostly being focused on entertaining Yona during their long wait.”

“So is it Yona’s turn for a wish?!” asked the yak, unable to contain her excitement, not only for the upcoming feast she desired, but to see the goat’s magic in action. If she could truly grant wishes, it was surely a grand spectacle to behold.

“It is,” Atamanna said, “Follow me, and we will get everything started.” The Djinn beckoned the two into her home, seductively gesturing with her hand as she slipped back inside for them to follow, as if trying to lure a lover to bed.

Yona, in her innocence, didn’t second guess the goat’s gesture, blindly entering the tent so she could get her wish. Sandbar, suddenly feeling a slight bit of foreboding about this, paused. For some reason he felt like there was something wrong about entering inside after the goat, as if something was warning him not to go past the gaping maw of her home.

“Is Sandbar coming in with Yona?!” the yak called from inside the cloth structure.

Hearing his friend’s voice, Sandbar shook his head dismiss what his instincts were making him feel, “Yeah, I’m coming!” he yelled, entering at a brisk pace so as not to be deterred by his thoughts again.

Once inside, Sandbar suddenly felt much calmer, as the scent of incents filled the air, and the scene of the goat’s glamorous, yet modest Saddle Arabian themed home met his eye. He was almost mesmerized by the combination of the shimmering rubies the woman had strung up from the canopy of her tent, combined with a soft foreign tune from her native country that emanated from some unknown source.

“This is a treat I didn’t expect to have in Equestria,” said Atamanna as she walked through the single chamber of her home, moving her hips in a manner that alluringly shifted her rear from side to side as she made her way to her bed, “It has been some time since I have served a yak.”

“You’ve granted wishes for yaks before?” Sandbar asked, hearing the statement as he caught up with Yona, the goat’s words catching his ears as her movements caught his eyes.

“Long ago,” she answered, looking over her shoulder to her two guests, “It was such a delightful time, I loved having the chance to experience their culture.”

Making it to her bed, the Djinn took a seat, resting her arms behind her and leaned back onto them, which managed to make her breasts more prominent as she took pose. Everything about her movements accentuated sensualism, like she was trying to seduce the parties present with her.

“So, if I heard correctly, my esteemed yak guest is here because she wants to have a traditional Yak feast for her and her friends,” Atamanna said, as she eyed up the female yak before her.

“Yes,” Yona replied, confirming the goat’s assumption, “Yona wishes for her friends to see how good a yak feast can be in person. Yona wants it to be the best yak feast ever happened, greater than any other.”

“Now wait a second,” Sandbar interjected, “Isn’t that asking for a bit much? I know how much yaks like perfection, so don’t you think that’s gonna be har-”

“Oh don’t worry,” Atamanna said, interrupting the stallion’s concerns, “I can grant such a wish, without issue. All I need are the names of those you want to invite to your party.”

Yona gasped, her heart rapidly beating at the boast of the Djinn. “Yona wants all of Yona’s closest friends there! Sandbar, Ocellus, Smolder, Silverstream, and Gallus!”

“Done,” Atamanna said, snapping her fingers, “Do enjoy the feast.”

Yona couldn’t help but smile, but her expression wavered as the world around her started to shake. Everything in Atamanna’s home trembled like an earthquake was hitting, and gradually the lights within it started to dim.

“What’s happening!?” Sandbar shouted, fairly scared of the sudden shudder of reality.

“Don’t you worry,” Atamanna affirmed, her voice somehow over-powering the ever growing rumbling sound, “This is just the yak’s wish being granted. You and your friends have nothing to worry about from here on out.”

Both Sandbar and Yona clenched their eyes shut, hoping that what the goat said was true, as all of Equestria felt like it was falling apart around them.

Eventually, the quaking stopped, but even after it was finished it took Yona a few more minutes to think it was safe to open her eyes. When she did though, she was amazed to see what the wish had done. She had been transported to a grand, Yakyakistani feasting hall, though much larger than any ever seen before. The room itself was massive, decorated with many yakish tapestries and paintings depicting yakish greatness, with a roaring flame stationed across from her, on the opposite side a feasting table that sat between it and Yona, that warmed to perfection as it sat in a huge fire basin. At a mere glance, the feasting hall had to be a quarter a mile long from one wall to the next, the long table in the center stretching down to each end, nearly touching the walls with its length.

A top the enormous banquet table were mountains of Yak made delicacies, cooked to perfection, the delicious aroma of pies, porridge, bread, and cheeses hit Yona’s nose all at once, making her mouth water as she laid eyes on a pile of perfectly ripened fruits piled up to the ceiling, the stack held in position by an assortment of fresh vegetables at its base.

“I hope this is to satisfaction,” said Atamanna, coming into view, no longer wearing her Saddle Arabian belly dancer garbs, and instead wearing a much less revealing, but still very alluring, traditional Yakyakistan outfit dress, tailor-made to perfectly fit her smaller frame. “I know how Yaks demand perfection when it comes to their customs and traditions.”

The goat was correct, but at first sight, Yona could tell that everything was the very depiction of a Yak crafted feast, just at a much grander scale than usual. Even the ambient yovidaphone music filling the hall was played with such expertise that it almost brought the female yak to tears.

“This… is… perfect!” Yona exclaimed, unable to contain her joy. “Yona has never seen a yak feast like this before!”

“Well, you wouldn’t.” Atamanna said, taking a seat atop the feasting table’s edge, grabbing a roasted apple off it and taking a bite, “Yakyakistan hasn’t seen a feast quite like this one in over a thousand years.”

“A thousand years?” Yona asked, curious about the goat’s words.

“Yes,” Atamanna replied after swallowing the fruit in her mouth, “This is an exact replica of the Grand Dining Hall of Prince Buudal, a great figure in Yakyakistan history. How I loved granting his wish for a perfectly crafted kingdom made in his vision.”

“Prince Buudal?” Yona said, not recognizing the name, which was odd seeing as Yak culture revered their ancient leaders, and often told grand tales about their deeds.

“Yes, he was the creator of the yakish concept of perfectionism,” Atamanna continued, “And under his rule, he was able to throw the greatest Yakyakistan feast that was or will ever be had. Which is why in honor of both him, and your wish, I’ve made an exact replication of that event, down to its very participants.”

As soon as the goat woman said that, Yona started to notice that she was not alone, as the presence of many Yaks sitting at the table, in the middle of partaking of the food and drink held upon it, came to her awareness. Others were moving about, unable to be seen momentarily in between the stacks of food that blocked them from being fully seen by Yona, but she could at the very least tell they were more yaks like herself. Looking at them all, Yona eventually spotted an image through the flames on the other side of the room, that of a rather large yak male in leather armor appearing through the fire occasionally when the flames would flick downwards, seated in a throne made of solid stone.

“Is that Prince Buudal?” Yona asked.

“Yes,” Atamanna answered with a bemused chuckle, “Isn’t he an impressive vision of yak power and majesty?”

Yona could admit that even for a yak like herself, who was used to being around large males, Buudal had a mighty and somewhat intimidating form, as even seated it looked like the prince was a foot taller than her, and wore an expression of stern command that exuded leadership from his noble Yak visage.

“Wait, where’s Yona’s friends?” Yona questioned, remembering that her wish was supposed to include all her friends, and just realizing that Sandbar had vanished.

“Oh, they’re around,” Atamanna ensured, “Already enjoying the banquet in their own way. With my powers, I have seamlessly merged them with this replication, and thus they are blended in with the crowd right now. You might not even be able to notice them until I do the same with you.”

“What?” Yona said, clearly confused with what the Djinn was saying.

“At the moment you are disjointed from this scene, completely ignored and unable to interact with it.” Atamanna started to explain, “But I only did that so I could have this moment to inform you of what I did, so you could fully appreciate my efforts. The moment I snap my fingers, you will become part of this recreation, and be noticed by everyone here, then your wish will truly become fulfilled.”

“Yona doesn’t get what goat woman means,” Yona said as bluntly as any yak would in this case, “But appreciates what goat woman has done. So can Yona start eating with her friends now?”

“As you wish,” Atamanna said, snapping her fingers and walking away, “Have fun.”

Assuming that she was able to participate now, Yona’s first thoughts went to her friends. She really wanted to enjoy this gigantic meal with them, since that was the purpose of the wish, but the overwhelming intoxicating scent of the food on the table was a bit too difficult to resist the better of the yak girl. Looking at the size of it, how it appeared to be near endless, it was too much to pass up sampling from the verifiable smorgasbord an inch before her eyes.

The compulsion to at least get one bite was too strong, and so with a lick of her lips, Yona reached for one of the pies on the table, taking it into her hands without a moment’s hesitation. As she did though, something strange came into her vision, as she saw on her wrists something that had never been there before. A pair of thick, metal cuffs, tightly wrapped around her wrists, held together by sturdy links of chain, said links so thick she could tell just by looking at them that even her yakish strength couldn’t break.

This surprise shocked Yona, having no clue where the cuffs came from, or why they were there. With her shock came an increased awareness in her perception, and she started to feel that other things were off as well. Without even examining herself, she could tell by feeling that her legs were likewise shackled together by the ankles, and when she looked down to confirm, she witnessed the most startling thing of all.

“Y-Y-Yona is naked!” she practically screamed, immediately covering her body with her arms, dropping the pie she held to the floor. Instinctually, she made attempts to cover her exposed private areas, but the short length of the chain between them made her two hands have to compete between shielding her breasts and covering her crotch.

Her efforts soon became even harder, as another hand was brought into the mix. One of the male Yaks sitting at the table had gotten up, and in a swift motion snatched Yona by the arm that was trying to cover her tits, pulling both it and Yona’s other arm away from her body as he brought her in front of him.

“Yak cow wasted pie!” he yelled into her face, scaring the shackled female with his angered tone and painful grip on her bicep.

She wasn’t expecting hostility, and combining it with the fear, embarrassment, and confusion she had gotten from discovering she had been stripped, she could hardly defend herself as the male turned, walking down the length of the feasting table while keeping his hold on her firmly, pulling Yona along every step of the way.

Everything was happening so fast, and the yak female was nearly at a loss for thought, let alone words. In a moment the wish turned from a spectacular dream to a horrible nightmare. It only got worse as she was dragged along, as she saw more things that terrified her even further. It had slipped by her earlier, but every yak seated and dining at the table was male, but it wasn’t as if there were no females present. There were plenty, but they were all in the same state of appearance as Yona.

Passing by many a female yak on the way to wherever the male yak was taking her, Yona saw that none of the females bare so much as a strip of real clothing on them, only wearing devices that bound their arms and legs, in the form of shackles and binders that prevented each appendage trapped in them from moving freely. The only other articles on their bodies were small decorative adornments in the form of heavy iron loop rings that went through their areolas, right behind the base of their nipples, and thick bars of the same material inserted into their clitori.

It didn’t stop there either, as the fronts of the yak women had been shaven, creating a large portion of their bodies that comprised of their inner thighs, crotch, stomach, chest, and the front of their throat, that were completely devoid of fur, exposing the supple flesh hidden underneath. As a final shaming act against the female yaks, when looking at their heads, Yona noticed that none of them had horns atop their heads. Not the proud pairs of pointy protrusions one would expect, at least. What they had instead were large stumps, cut down to barely poke out through their hair, as what were supposed to be a beautiful set of yak horns were cut and sanded down.

Seeing all these women, Yona realized she was practically looking into a mirror, as it finally hit her that she had not only been stripped and shackled, but her body had been similarly altered. She could feel a pair of heavy rings in her own breasts move up and down with each step she took, and the movement of her legs caused the newly discovered bar in her clit to become distractingly noticeable as it caused unwanted sensations to travel through her loins. She had partially noticed the lack of fur on her front torso already, but it only seemed to register now, as well as the sudden loss of weight from her head. The horns that had been perched on her head for years were now little more than flat disks, shaved down to the same length of the other females so that they were barely hidden by her hair, which no longer was weaved into the traditional yak braids that her village had honored her with, instead left to hang freely down the back of her head, save for a few strands on either side that manage to slip over her shoulders to her front. A last alteration she sensed through all this was the clear taste of metal on her tongue, which when she moved the organ, the yak found that it was coming from another metal firmly embedded within the center front part of it, going through the top part and coming out the bottom.

“Looks like you’ve already gotten yourself in trouble,” said Atamanna, suddenly appearing aside Yona, walking at a brisk pace to keep up with how fast Yona was being pulled along.

“W-what is happening?” Yona asked, searching for some kind of answer to make sense of this terrifying experience, “Yona never seen yaks like this before!”

“Well of course not,” Atamanna replied calmly, “Cultures can change a lot over time, and seeing how you were able to come to Equestria without escort, and were allowed to wear clothes, I’d have to guess that your people have moved past their old, barbaric history.”

“Barbaric?!” Yona asked, “Yona knows that yaks were never barbaric!”

Atamanna laughed lightly, “Oh trust me, your kind were about as barbaric a culture as they came, but that was well over a thousand years ago. Back then, yaks treated their women as property, and would shackle and shave them as a deterrent from attempting to escape into the cold climate outside of the feasting hall. I would know, I was there.” Atamanna took a moment to wistfully take in the scenery around her, the sight of it nostalgic for the goat, “I’m not surprised you’ve never heard of it though. Seeing how yak females are treated as equals to males now, I’m sure that the yak elders chose to not share stories of their more savage past with later generations. I’ve even heard that Buudal’s grand feasting hall was smashed to the ground, perhaps in order to remove the only monument to his legacy. Pity, really.”

Yona grew angry at the goat’s mocking, and while she was unable to physically resist the yak yanking her around, she was able to voice her anger at the Djinn. “This not what Yona wanted!” she shouted, the impact of her voice physically moving Atamanna’s clothes like they were hit by a gust of wind.

The Djinn herself, though, was completely unphased, and with a slow turn of her head towards the yak, replied by saying, “No, but it is what you wished for. A grand yak feast, greater than all others. Well, there was never and will never be one greater than the one Prince Buudal held. His reign was so successful that he was able to hold a non-stop feast of food, hedonism, and debauchery that lasted for ten straight years.”

“Ten years?!” Yona replied, shocked to learn that a feast could ever last that long. Even the ones she had been to in Yakyakistan only lasted a few days.

“Yes, and now you and your friends will be able to experience it in its entirety,” Atamanna said with a smile, “Isn’t that lovely?”

Yona’s eyes went wide with revelation. Not just because the goat had just told the yak that she would be stuck here for the next ten years, but she had momentarily forgotten that her friends were part of her wish, that detail shunted from her head the moment she was assaulted by the oppressive yak male.

“Where are Yona’s friends!” the yak continued to yell, more for her own sake now than an attempt to intimidate Atamanna.

“They’re around, serving their own role here.” Atamanna replied, “It was easy to include them in this replication, since yaks didn’t just enslave their women, but those of other races from nearby settlements they raided as well. Of course, Yaks never had changelings or dragons as their slaves, but that was a small detail when it came to your wish. Oh look, there is one now.”

The Djinn directed Yona to look back at the feasting table with her hand, and hoping to see one of her friends, she foolishly followed the gesture. The goat was not lying, as when Yona turned her head she spotted a recognizable color combination of pink and blue, as she laid eyes on her hippogriff friend, Silverstream. That, however, only set a new horror upon the yak.

Silverstream was in the same state as Yona, naked, shackled, and her body modified in the form of her wings being clipped down to prevent the horse-bird hybrid from using them to fly. That was not the horrific part of it, though, as what really sent a chill down Yona’s spine was the sight of the Silverstream running her tongue across the exposed cock of one of the yak males seated at the table.

Yona was only able to watch for a few seconds as the hippogriff’s beak went along the length of a sizable yak penis, her talons gentle caressing and stroking the shaft, lewdly rubbing the space between her thighs against the wooden bench that she was laying across, making sounds of delightment as she rubbed her face against the dick. Her behavior could only be defined as that of a whore, which was a depiction of Silverstream she had never thought she’d see in such graphic intensity.

As she was pulled past the sexualized spectacle her feathered friend was making of herself, Yona could only questioningly say to herself, “Silversteam… is enjoying this?”

“Sure looks to be the case,” Atamanna said, “Though I wouldn’t blame the girl if I were you. She isn’t exactly herself at the moment. None of your friends are, at least not mentally.”

At this point, every word and sight that came to Yona only added to her overall confusion, horror, and despair, to the point that it brought the normally loud and boastful yak to silence, even as she spotted what looked like an enslaved Gallus, similarly shackled, though given the dignity of a loincloth to cover his nethers, off to the side of the chamber, grumpily sweeping up small remnants of food from the floor.

“You see,” Atamanna said, seeing the trauma of the situation had finally gotten to Yona, “In order to have your friends be an actual part of the experience, I’ve implanted some personas into them. Your friend, Silverstream, for example, has been given the role of a hippogryph princess who was captured during a raid. This princess lead a boring life as a royal prior to her abduction, but found excitement in being dominated by a hoard of barbarian brutes who see her use as a sex object. It’s honestly a very romantic scenario, one that many women have, and so I’m not surprised she has taken to it so well. It’s certainly more interesting than what I gave Gallus and Sandbar. They will be spending the next ten years as cleaning slaves, sweeping up bread crumbs and mopping the floors, while being tossed table scraps for their work. Don’t worry though, even though they are in character, they still have their overall personalities and, most importantly, their souls. Well… for the most part.”

Yona didn’t respond. She didn’t understand anything at this point, from what Atamanna meant when she referred to ‘personas’, to why she was doing all this to her and her friends. All she knew was that she was trapped, as were her friends, in this nightmarish situation. While she knew little of magic, she could tell that Atamanna’s powers over the reality she was now in were so great that she couldn’t break free of it of her own accord, as the single yak pulling her along was drastically overpowering her. Even if Yona did manage to break free from him, she could tell that the other male yak Atamanna had created would come to restrain her, and should she somehow evade them, she was told already she was in no condition to attempt to flee the feasting hall, if fleeing were even possible.

“I see you have a lot to think about,” Atamanna said, delighted to see Yona’s spirit crush to the point that the yak had stopped resisting, allowing herself to stumble along without so much as a tug against the male leading her, “I’ll give you a moment to yourself, since I think you’ll appreciate this next part more than you’ll want to admit. One bit of parting advice though, relax and just let it happen. This will all go easier if you don’t fight it. You might even come to like it.”

The goat stopped, allowing Yona to leave her behind as she was brought to her destination at one end of the gigantic table. The barbarian yak had taken her all the way to where the table stopped, leading her to the fire pit that she had seen earlier, then taking her past it. It was apparent to her where she was going by now, as if the male wanted to punish her personally, he could have done it at any point along the way, and not traveled what was a quarter of a mile to bring her take her around the feasting table. At this point though, it was clear to the yak female that he was taking her to someone else to deal with her, someone with much more authority.

The male yak finally approached the fire basin, slowing his pace to allow Yona a moment to walk properly only as he made it to the throne that was his destination. “Prince Buudal!” The barbaric yak yelled to the large male seated on the stone seat, giving a small salute and bow of his head as he came to a stop. “This yak cow-!”

“Yak warrior need not explain.” Buudal said, his words calm, but his voice booming like lightly rumbling thunder, “Buudal saw everything. Bring female before me.” The smaller yak male did as he was told, and pulled Yona in front of the prince, positioning her between him and the fire basin, the flame practically licking at the furs on her back.

It was at this moment that Yona discovered another one of her friends, as Smolder’s role in this world was revealed. Prince Buudal had the dragon attached directly to his throne by a chain that lead to a thick collar around her neck, the chain’s length giving her little ability to move away from the fixture, maybe a foot at maximum. That was enough for her to reach the front of the throne though, where she currently resided, on hands and knees, as she solemnly and dutifully licked at Buudal’s hooves, cleaning it with her mouth in a display that would humiliate any dragon, had they seen her in the act.

“Eyes to Buudal, not Buudal’s dragon slave,” The yak prince said, the command in his tone pulling Yona’s eyes away from Smolder and directly to Buudal’s face. Though his eyes were hidden behind a thick portion of a hair, she could feel his gaze piercing into her very being. “Now explain to Buudal why yak cow ruined perfectly good food by dropping it on the floor?”

Yona didn’t know what to say, or if she could say anything. This was, afterall, some world created by Atamanna with the intent of making her and her friends suffer, so something inside her told the yak girl that anything she said wouldn’t matter. That aside, an overwhelming sense of meekness was starting to enter into Yona’s mind, as she witnessed how giant Buudal was compared to any other yak. For the first time since she was very young, the yak felt awfully small.

“Yak cow has nothing to say?” Buudal said as his patience wore thin, “Must Buudal remind yak cow his demands for perfection?”

“No, Prince Buudal. Yona knows she exists to serve.” said Yona, the words slipping from her mouth. The moment that they did, she blinked in surprise, as she had intended to stay silent, and she certainly wouldn’t say she exists to serve.

“Then yak cow is looking to be punished?” Buudal replied, “Was yak cow hoping to get the attention of yak men?”

This time Yona was able to stay her tongue, timidly averting her gaze away, but something about his assumption caused a blush to form on her face. Had Yona kept his eyes on the massive male, she might have caught Buudal holding back a smile, as he took her reaction to his question as a ‘yes’.

“Come here,” said Buudal, his order immediately taking hold of Yona, compelling her to obey.

As the female yak approached, Buudal took his hoof and pushed Smolder aside, making way for Yona. When she stopped, she was directly in front of the male, positioned between his knees.

“Open mouth, tongue out, ” Buudal said, pulling from behind him a small item comprised of bits of leather and a large metal ring with a curved metal rod coming off from it.

Yona once again complied with the prince’s commands, opening her mouth as widely as she could while letting her tongue hang out beyond her lips, all the while not understanding why she was complying. It was as if his word was law in her mind, and there was no resisting anything she was told to do by him.

With Yona’s tongue exposed, Buudal leaned forward and pinched down on the metal rod that was lodged within it, tugging at the metal piece, to Yona’s discomfort. “If yak cow refuses to speak feelings, then yak cow will lose right to speak,” Buudal said, releasing the rod, but only so he could shove the metal part of the object into Yona’s muzzle.

Yona gave minimal resistance as the yak lord slid her tongue through the center of the metal ring, and pushed into her mouth. Once in, the sturdy piece of steel made it impossible for her to pull her jaw shut, her teeth being blocked from joining together by the obstruction. After ensuring that the ring was in place, Buudal took hold of the straps, and proceeded to buckle them together, binding the device tightly to Yona’s head, completing its purpose as a restrictive mouth gag, all except for one detail.

While the gag was now in place, the small curved rod on the ring protruded out off the female yak’s mouth, sticking out far past her lips, traveling along the underside of her tongue. Begin as obtrusive as it was, Yona instinctively tried to push it away with a wet piece of mouth meat, but found her efforts did nothing, except let her know that the rod had a strange hole at the end of it.

Buudal took a moment to enjoy watching Yona’s tongue flail about, but once satisfied, he took hold of the rod within it once more. While in his grip, Yona endured his tugs and pulls as he fiddled around with the stud, having to deal with it as he twisted off a section at the bottom of it, and then screwed the rod into the bar attached to the mouth gag, joining them together as one.

“Try to move tongue,” Buudal said while removing his hands from Yona’s mouth, believing his work to be done.

Yona gladly obeyed, happy to have been released from holding her tongue outside her mouth, but as she attempted to put it back inside, she found that the metal in her tongue held it firmly in place, a metal bulb atop it ensuring that the stud would not slip out of its hole. As it was, Yona could no longer retrieve her tongue, or bring her mouth to a close, which made her, as Buudal has said, unable to speak in any intelligible manner, at best able to make crude sounds from her throat, but nothing more.

“Now,” Buudal said, not yet done with Yona, “Since yak cow has shown she is not perfect at serving yak warriors with hands, yak cow will now serve with body.”

Yona flinched a little at Buudal’s decree, his meaning unambiguous after seeing Silverstream. If she couldn’t be a perfect serving girl, she would be performing the much easier task of being a sex slave. With all the bindings on her, anyone could easily take her against her will in any hole.

“Take yak cow to table, and teach how to be perfect tribe slut.”

The yak that brought her to Buudal took Yona by her shackle chains, and led her back to the table, not bothering to go all the way back to where he had first found her. Instead, he went directly to the closest spot on the table, where others who had watched as Buudal disciplined the female grinned perversely at Yona, having heard they had just been given full access to all the most pleasant parts of her form.

Happily, a few of the yak men cleared away large stacks of food for Yona’s arrival, while others cheered for the new entertainment. On Yona’s arrival, she was lifted up off her hooves and placed on her back atop the table, to become part of the feast.

Having been made prone, Yona became increasingly terrified as males started to crowd around her, and the one who guided her around from the beginning slid himself between her legs, using her ankle chains to create a loop around his body that would prevent Yona from getting away from him. Thusly secured, he undid the waistband of his armor, dropping his leggings to release his engorged cock.

“I suppose you're wondering why these men are so excited with you,” Atamanna said, choosing this time to reappear, laying face down on the table in the opposite direction as Yona, so that only their heads were close to one another. “They’re always surrounded by fine examples of yak women, that you’re think they’d get sick of all the pussy they must be getting.”

Yona couldn’t reply verbally, and honestly was more focused on other things than Atamanna’s taunts, but she managed to give a whine as the man between her legs rubbed the bottom part of his dick against her slit, the length of his cock reaching Yona’s belly button when pushed forward as far as it could go.

Atamanna took Yona’s response as a cue to continue, going on to add, “You see, the Yak women in the feasting hall were usually just there for visual stimulation. If a male wanted to mate, they would have to petition Prince Buudal for the ability to have sex with one of the females. This was done on purpose, as Buudal often only allowed his generals, tacticians, and those who did exceptionally in battle the privilege of using the women, knowing that warriors with pent up sexual frustrations would fight more aggressively when raiding settlements for food, materials, and slaves.”

“AUGH!” Yona yelled, the sensation of her vaginal lips being pushed apart as she was penetrated deeply by a thick yak dick took precedence over the Djinn’s history lesson.

The yak’s suffering got a slight chuckle out of Atamanna, but didn’t stop her from proceeding, “But every male also knew Buudal’s preferred method of punishing disobedient females was through shameful and humiliating public rape, so at every opportunity they would bring a woman before the prince in hopes that the tribe would be allowed to have a go at them. It got so bad that the men started convincing one another that the females were purposely getting themselves in trouble just so they could fuck more often too, which was such lovely, if somewhat self-fulfilling, circular logic.”

The yak male, once inside Yona, wasted no time moving his hips back and forth. While Yona was no stranger to what sex was, this was her first sexual experience, outside of the use of toys or her own rubbings she did in private. The sensations were a strange mixture of pain caused by the yak male’s uncaring thrusts, and a sense of familiar pleasure that Yona recognized from her sessions of masturbation. Strangely, it was the pleasure part that was more noticeable to the yak girl. The filling of her vaginal passage, the rubbing of such a large object inside her inner walls, shot sparks through her, making Yona create loud moans and take sharp gasps of air as the yak male took what he wanted from her.

Knowing this was wrong, Yona made an attempt to push the male away, trapped between her legs as he was, by putting her hands on his chest and pushing, but all this did was prompt the male to take hold of her arms and pin them to the table. Then she tried bucking back at the male with her hips, but this only served to aid the male’s penetration of her, his cockhead making it so far as to press against her cervix.

Her actions failed to impede the barbarian yak in the slightest, as his trusts continued unhindered, his body moving with such fervor that Yona couldn’t understand where he got the energy. It was like he was somehow sapping her of strength to use as his own, as she could feel her body give in to his will the more this act went on. The more it went on, the less control Yona felt she had over the situation, what little she had to begin with, so much so that her body started moving of its own accord. Her torso writhed at the pleasure being sent through her spine, and when that begun reaching its peak, her legs coiled around the male’s waist in reflex. Had her tongue not already been trapped outside her mouth, it would have found its own way to dangle past her lips as euphoria set into her mind, the enveloping feeling of sexual rapture pushing all thought to the background.

By the end of it all, the noises coming from Yona’s mouth stopped having even the hint of protest in them, turning into lewd, animalistic sound that the yak female didn’t even know she could produce, though she was barely aware that she was making them even as they freely flowed from her throat. All she came to know was that she was, despite everything deep within her screaming that she shouldn’t, enjoying being manhandled and forced to fuck. It was shameful, especially for a prideful yak like herself, but she couldn’t help but be aroused by it all. She wanted to express her dismay in a cry, but all that came out was a deep, lust-filled mooing, which only served to embarrass Yona even further.

For the male using her body, the carnal sounds coming from the female at his mercy only served to bring him to climax, as he released the contents of his balls into Yona without restraint or concern that he might get her pregnant. Partially this was because the world Atamanna created couldn’t create new life in such a manner, but mostly it came from the fact that the barbaric yaks of the time also had such a careless attitude towards knocking up their females. For some, it was the only chance they had to sire offspring, so they took every opportunity given.

The yak male came until he had nothing left, his impotent sperm mixing with all the fluids Yona produced through sexual stimulation. When finished, he pulled out, slipping himself out from between Yona’s thighs, only to have another male take his place. The new yak grabbed Yona by her legs, using them to flip Yona onto her front, then pulled her off the table a bit so the appendages could hang over it. Yona was far too exhausted and deep within the bliss of orgasm to fight back, so the new male needed little effort to insert himself into her recently voided pussy to take his turn. Yona’s only response to this were more lewd sounds, the violation of her body starting anew, but this time with no resistance from the yak girl.

What little part of her was still aware of what was going on didn’t know why she was allowing this without a struggle, but the rest of her was telling her there was no avoiding it. There was a line of yak warriors forming behind her, and each was going to do with her as they pleased. After that was all done, and she had a rest, she might be able to regain some control, but for now she was just going to have to endure it. Besides, she could feel the pleasure building inside her again, and if their intent was only to fuck her into a massive string of climaxes, why not let them?

The same part of her that wanted to resist knew that last thought wasn’t her own, but it was being drowned out completely by that newly created part in her. Pushing the negative voice even deeper into her subconscious, a smile formed around the gag in her mouth, desire vetoing reason at this time, and as it took shape, another smile was created. One on the face of the goat woman looking the defeated yak woman in the face, taking enjoyment at the creation of the helpless sex slave before her.

Back at the Djinn’s tent, Atamanna was comfortably laying on her bed, taking a puff from a hookah stationed aside it as she looked into a ruby in her hand, having never once left her home since the granting of Yona’s wish.

In the gemstone’s reflection, she could see all that went on at the feasting hall, the pocket realm being contained within the ruby itself. At her will, the Djinn could watch what Yona and her friends were going through, a simple thought allowing her to focus on one of the six victims held within. The Atamanna that appeared in the wish formed realm, that was merely a shadow sent in to torment the six, appearing only to tease and inform them all on how screwed they were. Not that it was needed, seeing as Buudal and the other males would see that their lives inside the gem would not be pleasant for them, or at least not pleasant for their souls.

The shade version of herself had explained what would happen to Yona and her friend very poorly, which was by design. Each of them would be told the others had been mentally altered by the goat, when the truth was that they were all being affected by the realm itself. They would all be influenced by their new reality, their minds individually filled with thoughts that guided them into the roles created for them, while leaving the tiniest bit of them behind to remind them that this was not how things were supposed to be.

Having seen all she wanted from Yona’s introduction to the realm, Atamanna displayed the extent of control she had over the pocket dimension, and caused the entirety of it to go forward several years, the Djinn able to control time and space within her creation freely. Suddenly a new vision of Yona appeared, one who had endured every moment of the time that the goat had skipped past, and was now reluctantly acting as Buudal’s personal serving girl. The Prince had apparently taken a liking to her, chaining her to his side like he had Smolder, so that he could take satisfaction of her company and body at his convenience as she was forced to stand in spot, holding food for the yak prince to eat from at his leisure.

Zipping forward the clock another few hours, Atamanna was able to find that being a food holder was not the only job given to Yona by the prince, as the massive yak had apparently decided to make her his personal cock cleaner as well. The sight of the female yak being on her knees before the prince, his hand on her head as he pushed his sizable shaft down the poor yak’s defenseless throat, as the mouth gag he had used to remove her ability to speak was still there after years of it originally being affixed to her head, allowing Buudal easy access to the shove himself down the orifice without obstruction. Unable to close her mouth or fight against the giant yak’s strength, Yona could only do what she could to please the male faster, in order to make the time that her throat was stuffed by his dick as short as possible.

“Looks like the girl learned the trick to surviving in that world,” Atamanna said, taking another puff from her pipe, “But her suffering will not be so easy.”

Atamanna, focusing a fraction of her will on the gem in her hand, caused the vision of the female yak to slow to a crawl, making a change in the flow of time that she saw Yona’s own perception of reality in real-time. The goat would have hated for Yona to miss out on any moment of this throat fucking due to her own haste, the feeling of his hair covered shaft brushing her throat and the taste of the yak prince’s dick sweat coating her taste buds being too much of a privilege for one to pass up. So if the yak girl insisted cutting this privilege short, Atamanna would ensure that even that brief moment in time was savored. By the realm’s relative perception of time, only a few minutes would pass, but to Yona this, and every forced fellation after she didn’t take her time to properly endure, would feel like hours to the poor girl.

“Now, how about those other lost souls?

Atamanna changed the gem’s focus to Sandbar, who had spent his time as a house slave, working alongside Gallus. The two males were not too far away from Yona’s current position, pushing brooms to pick up the bits of food haphazardly dropped from the mouths of their captors, finding it difficult to not shift an eye towards the prince as his cock received a cleaning of its own.

“I can’t believe that they do that stuff out in the open like that,” Gallus said, a hint of jealousy leaking through his disgust. Being around naked women and acts of sex, forbidden from doing anything to relieve his sexual tension for years, kept him incredibly frustrated.

“Yeah,” Sandbar agreed, of like mind with the gryphon, “But sometimes I wish I could get in on that action.”

“Yeah… me too,” Gallus admitted, his cock poking out a bit from behind the small piece of cloth that acted as coverings for his crotch.

Hearing the words ‘I wish’, Atamanna perked up, and happily snapped her fingers. “As you wish, boys.”

Next thing the Sandbar and Gallus knew, a pair of yak males came right up to them, ripping the two from their tasks. Yaks weren’t openly gay during that time period, but the wish took precedent in this situation, and not long after the two found their loincloths torn off, and their rumps stuffed by large pieces of yak meat, being bounced in the laps of the two large males, as they both got a promotion from cleaning staff to public sex slaves.

Atamanna lingered on the image for a moment, but then went to spy on Ocellus. She had it fairly easy in comparison, as she was allowed to be near Silverstream near constantly in order to keep her fed, the hippogryph able to produce large amounts of love, even in this situation. The changeling was little more than a serving girl to Silverstream’s master, the yak general who had claimed the hippogryph as his personal love slave, at least that was the backstory created for that particular character in this realm.

Using his influence, he managed to get both the girls all to himself, and with Silverstream being so affectionate, there was little need for Ocellus to do more than bring him whatever food was outside his reach.

“Oh, master~” Silverstream cooed, her arm wrapped around the yak’s bicep as she seductively rubbed the barbarian’s chest fur, “Have I told you today what an honor it is to be in your service?”

Taking a bowl of porridge from a tray in Ocellus’ hands, the yak slipped it down before he replied, “Bird pony says that, but yak wonders if bird pony means it.” He had heard the words uttered daily from the hippogriff, and had long since assumed she was just mouthing the words to get his favor and avoid punishments.

“Of course I do!” Silverstream replied, Atamanna not sure if that was just the hippogriff’s role speaking, or if she had actually taken a liking to the reality she resided in, “There is nothing I want more than to be here with you.”

“Nothing?” the yak said, still questioning Silverstream’s loyalty, “Then if yak offered bird pony freedom, would bird pony refuse?”

Atamanna laughed at the question. Ancient yaks never released a prisoner, nor broke a slave’s bonds of servitude. This question was merely a test for the hippogriff, to see if she wasn’t lying to her master. If she said she wanted to be free, then she would receive punishment, but if she refused the offer, he knew that she belonged to him. The hippogriff did seem conflicted by the question, the small part of her that was Silverstream clearly trying to break out of character.

At some point her two halves must have met at some sort of middle ground, cause when she gave her response to the question, it came out as, “I do love you, my master, but I’ll admit that sometimes I wish I could see my family again.”

Atamanna froze when she heard those two magical words hit her ear, as the possible consequences of such a simple wish went through the Djinn’s mind. With a maniacal laugh, Atamanna snapped her fingers, and the wish was granted. Seconds later, the doors to the feasting hall opened, revealing a group of yaks coming in from the desolate, frozen landscape outside that was shrouded in a never ending blizzard, with a group of hippogriffs towed into the hall via the shackles that all slaves of the yaks wore.

The door had never opened prior to this moment, and so all eyes were brought to it instantly, including those of Silverstream, who instantly recognized who the new arrivals were. It was her father, Sky Beak, her mother, Ocean Flow, her brother, Terramar, her niece, Princess Skystar, and her aunt, the regal ruler of Seaquestria, Queen Nova. All of them looked bewildered, completely clueless as to how they got where they were, and of how they came to be put in chains.

Silverstream, at the sight of them all, instantly broke her role, knowing that these were not illusions, but her actual family who had somehow been brought here to suffer alongside her. Her mouth went agape with horror, her body trembling when she started to understand that they appeared the moment she brought them up, as though she had summoned them.

“Looks like bird pony got her wish,” said her yak master, happy with this new development, “Now bird pony can serve with no regrets.”

As the new guests were publicly stripped of all forms of clothing, protesting as several yaks tore the fabric away with their grabby hands, Atamanna could only take joy from their misfortune. They too would eventually succumb to a ‘role’ the realm bestowed on them, and become part of the world as former royals reduced to mere slaves to the yak. The entirety of Mt. Aris and Seaquetria’s royal line was now trapped, and the goat was finding it hard to contain herself as she thought about how the kingdoms were probably in a panic at this very moment in their disappearance. It was an amazing stroke of luck for the Djinn that Yona had handed her a creature of royal descent on a silver platter, who in turn handed her a princess and a queen. There was only one more thing she had to do before allowing all her new prisoners to experience their prison without her interference, for now at least.

With a mere thought, Atamanna made all the events that had happened in the ruby, including the years that she had skipped, reverse all the way back to the beginning, and then let time flow normally once more. Everything had reset, and none inside the gem were the wiser. Yona was back to being excited that her wish had come true, while the others were just being informed of what hell the yak mistakenly brought them to. Everything would play out exactly the same, and the hippogriffs that had joined years prior would be held in stasis until it was time for them to join in.

This world would play out as it was supposed to for ten years, unless Atamanna changed something herself, and once that ten years was finished, it would all reset over and over, with those inside never knowing how many times they had lived through the same grand feast. Yona had wished that she and her friend could experience the grandest yak feast ever, and now they would do so for as long as the Djinn saw fit.