Wish World

After a long day of granting wishes and stealing souls, Atamanna was ready to call it quits for the day. So many of Ponyville’s residents had come to her, asking for their petty desires, not knowing that with a simple request their lives now belonged to the Djinn, some of which she had already claimed for her collection. She took great pleasure in tying a string around the gem containing her latest victims, the yak and her strange assortment of friends, and strung it up to the ceiling of her tent to join the legion of lost souls that were to be forever hers. To her, the gems chimed with the chorus of over a thousand poor creatures screaming in anguish, a tune that in this late hour would sing her to sleep.

Tomorrow she hoped to repeat the process, believing it would take at least a few days for the ponies to notice something was wrong. By that time, she expected to have possession of most of the souls in the village, as so many carelessly made wishes on her. It was only a shame that the princess of friendship was not as foolish as the average pony, or rather the mare with her wasn’t. An alicorn’s soul bound in servitude to her, to suffer whatever fitting punishments the Djinn devised for the hubris of expecting something for nothing, would have been a delightful feather in her cap. Thinking about the alicorn, Atamanna remembered that Twilight was supposed to come back that night, so it was not yet time to turn in for the devilish, near omnipotent goat.

“How to get her to make a wish though,” Atamanna wondered to herself, taking a seat on her bed, tapping her lap to summon Flutterfox to her. “She knows now that any request or acceptance of an offer from me will count…” she said as her transformed pet did as she was commanded, petting the former pegasus’ head as she thought aloud. “I suppose I’ll just have to figure out what she would really want. Even a princess has vices and cravings that must be fulfilled.”

Atamanna gave the victim in her lap a few scratches behind the ear, treating her like a prized pet, and doing nothing to harm the fox further than what had already been done to her. The fact that Fluttershy was little more than an obedient animal was wicked enough a punishment for the shy pony that had allowed the Djinn to be a guest on her land. Not to mention, the sadistic results of her wishes were best seasoned by varying the level of suffering that was handed out.

After a few more strokes of her fox’s fur, Atamanna sensed an approach to her tent. Someone was coming, one bearing a great power within them, which gave the Djinn a good idea of who it was. “She came alone? Perhaps the princess is more gullible than I assumed.”

The Djinn set Flutterfox on her bed, and in the blink of an eye went from her seated position, to standing right next to the curtain covering the entrance to her home. She waited a moment for the approaching presence to get close, and once it was nearly at her door, she opened it wide.

“Princess Twilight, I’ve been-” The goat stopped mid sentence, noting quickly that the pony at her doorstep was not the purple princess, but a chubby pink earth mare wearing the brightest smile on her face. “You’re not the princess.”

“Hi there!” said the pink pony with poofy hair, wearing a midriff exposing yellow shirt with sleeves that went down to her elbows, and a pair of blue shorts, the volume of her greeting nearly reaching a shout.

“Hello,” Atamanna said, her curiosity growing with this mare standing right in front of her.

The Djinn could tell she had not been mistaken when she felt a great power approach, as the earth pony contained some form of magic that most ponies couldn’t hope to match. It was the same level of magic she had felt within Fluttershy before transforming her, and only slightly less than that of the Princess of Friendship’s own power.

That indicated that this mare, in some way, was connected to the Elements of Harmony. In a normal circumstance, having such power within her would have been a threat to even the Djinn, but having already dealt with one element, the others were mostly worthless, for as great as each individual element was, their true power could only be unleashed when used together. As of now, not even Twilight could conjure up magic potent enough to match Atamanna’s. That being the case, all that concealed power only served as a beacon drawing in the goat’s intrigue.

“And who might you be, my pink little pony?” asked the djinn, as introductions were in order.

“I’m Pinkie Pie,” the earth mare replied, “And I’m Ponyville’s official welcome pony!”

Pinkie threw her arms up in celebration, tossing confetti into the air around her, which fell back down onto the mare, clinging to her ample features.

“How amusing.” Antamanna said, legitimately bemused by Pinkie’s antics, “But I fear you are a little late to welcome me to town, seeing that most of the town has met me already.”

Pinkie's smile turned a little sheepish, knowing that the goat woman was right, “Yeah… Today was a work day, and my boss, Ms. Cake, needed me to help at the bakery all day, so I couldn’t come sooner. The second we finished, I hopped on over here to at least say hello.”

“Is that the only reason you came to see me?” Atamanna asked, questioning the mare’s motives, and hoping that her assumptions were correct, as the good natured, pink pony would make for a pleasant addition to her collection of souls.

“Well, I did have another reason to come,” Pinkie admitted, “Some ponies said you were granting wishes for candy, and I absolutely had to check that out.”

“I believe what you heard was ‘passing out wishes like candy’”, Atamanna corrected, “As I’m a Djinn, and I have the power to grant anything your heart may desire.”

“Really?!” Pinkie said, surprised that such a creature existed, “But does that mean you can grant wishes for candy too?”

“I could,” Atamanna said, as such a wish would be as easy as any other, “But is that truly the thing you desire most? I can only grant one wish per pony, so it seems like a bit of a waste to use up a once in a lifetime chance on something you could get from a store.”

While it would have been entertaining to drown the mare in liquid chocolate if she made such a frivolous wish, and then put her on display in a hard, candy encasement, Atamanna believed more interesting results would come from Pinkie Pie wishing for something more important to herself.

“Well…” Pinkie said, putting a finger on the side of her face and looked upwards, as if she were scouring her mind for something she’d like, “Can you really grant any wish?”

“I can,” Atamanna confirmed, “The only limitation is your own imagination.”

Pinkie dwelled hard on something she would want if given the chance. She could ask for the most amazing party ever for her and all of Ponyville, but she had experience in the past when it came to things she liked not being things her friends enjoyed as much. She could wish for something more practical, like having it so she and her friends wouldn’t ever have to fight another villain trying to take over Equestria. Though… she actually enjoyed the adventures she and her friends went on, as it was always a great way to strengthen their bonds as friends, and things always turned out alright, no matter how grim things got.

“Gee, I really can’t think of anything I’d want to wish for.” Pinkie said.

“That’s ok,” Atamanna said, “It can be hard to decide on just one thing you’d want. However, let’s simplify this a little. If there was one thing in the world that you could have, that would make you happier than you’ve been before, what would that be? Something that you want, but have never had the opportunity to have.”

“Oh, that’s easy. it’s-” Pinkie said, then gasped aloud, “I know what I want to wish for!”

“Good. Then how about you come inside, and we can dis-” Atamanna was in the middle of opening the curtain to her tent, when suddenly a pink blur bolted past her as Pinkie made her way inside at speed that defied her plump body, “cuss what you want.” Atamanna wasn’t shocked by the display, as one with the kind of magic Pinkie had inside her could do things most ponies couldn’t. If anything, it bemused the Djinn how eager this pony was to cast herself into damnation, chuckling to herself as she stepped back into her abode. Pinkie would indeed make for an interesting addition to her collection, that was to be sure.

As Atamanna re-entered into her living area, she saw that her new guest was already taking it upon herself to gawk and gaze at everything in sight, from the Djinn’s incense burners, to her assortment of Saddle Arabian decorations, to the rubies dangling down from the tent top, admiring everything, while notably having to resist the urge to touch everything. That the mare could restrain herself to only giving “Oooo”s and “Ahh”s seemed like a trait that had to be learned over time.

“You like my rubies?” Atamanna said, catching Pinkie as she looked at the shimmer red stones hanging down from above, “Most of them come from Saddle Arabia, my homeland.”

“They are very pretty,” pinkie said, blissfully unaware of the gems diabolical nature.

“That they are,” Atamanna agreed, finding a beauty in the suffering and sorrow held within each stone, “But perhaps we should get to the matter at hand. You have a wish for me to grant.”

“Oh, right,” said Pinkie, re-focusing, “But… Are you sure that you can grant any wish?”

“Any that your heart may desire. Though I do hold a certain level of control over what I’m willing to grant. If you suddenly asked for all Equestria to be at your command, I would have to decline, for several reasons.”

“Oh I don’t want anything like that,” Pinkie replied, finding the idea of ruling Equestria silly.

“Then what do you want?” Atamanna asked, one final time.

Pinkie took a deep breath, as what she wanted was a very serious thing to request. Perhaps the most serious thing she had done in her life. If she was gonna ask for this, she had to be sure she was ready, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she really wanted to have this wish granted.

“I want to have foals of my own!” Pinkie said, having to blurt her wish out before she changed her ever spontaneous mind.

Atamanna was somewhat surprised to hear Pinkie ask for something like that, as the mare didn’t seem mature enough to want the responsibility of children. Perhaps she saw foals as something like playthings, as some ponies with childish mindsets did at times.

“A wish for children?” Atamanna said, making sure she understood the wish, though at this point she had all she needed. It was just odd to get such a wish when there were much easier methods of acquiring a child of one’s own, “I would not have expected the maternal instinct to be so strong in a pony like yourself.”

“I’ve been babysitting for the Cakes for a while now,” Pinkie said, giving her explanation, “And I just love taking care of the twins. They are the most adorable little things, and I’d love to have some foals of my own. I could dress them up, and give them baths, and they could be friends with the Cake twins, and-.”

“Alright, alright,” Atamanna said with a laugh, having heard more than she wanted, “I understand your desire. Your wish is granted.” With a snap of her finger, the Djinn set things in motion to give Pinkie Pie exactly what she asked for, causing a foul wind to creep into her tent, carrying with it something from a far away land.

Pinkie, unaware of the life ruining mistake she had just made, was overjoyed by Atamanna’s acceptance of her wish. “Oh my gosh! Really!?” She said, clasping her hands together in front of her face, her smile as big as it had ever been.

“Why of course,” Atamanna said, watching as thousands of grains of sand floated into her residence, gathering behind Pinkie Pie, the mare not paying the phenomenon going on around her any mind. Not that it would change what was about to happen if the pink pony did notice, as by this point her fate was already sealed, “Who would I be to deny you the chance to be a mother?”

“Woohoo!” Pinkie cried out, now jumping with joy, “I’m gonna be the best mommy ever! I’m gonna take them to the park, and teach them how to bake cookies, and then we’ll eat all the cookies together! It’s gonna be so much fun!”

Atamanna kept watching the mare as she displayed her excitement, alternating her gaze to the mare herself, and the pillar of sand forming behind her. If the mare were to turn around now, she would have been able to see that the sand was forming together into a shape; the shape of a male. A rather large male, tall and equine, who’s body mass was nearly twice that of the earth mare, built like a brick wall with solid biceps and abs so solid they looked to be able to deflect arrows, ever steadily nearing completion. It only took a few seconds to build itself up as much as it had, with only the arms and head remaining.

“So…” Pinkie said, her excitement lowering down to manageable levels, “Where are they?”

Atamana smirked, and closed her eyes, not wanting to give away the surprise. “I think that you have overestimated my powers, Pinkie. While I have made it that your wish will be granted, I cannot simply create life on a whim, nor am I some sort of mystical adoption agency.”

Pinkie’s smile began to fade a little, as it was beginning to sound like she wouldn’t be granted a foal to take care of. Before she could speak on the matter though, Atamanna lifted her hand to silence the mare, opening her eyes to see that the sand had completely formed together, and had changed from grains of sand, to a creature of living flesh and blood.

“So in order to fulfill your wish, we are going to have to make your children.”

Atamanna’s words made Pinkie confused, as she hadn’t the faintest idea what they implied. “Make them? What do you me-?”

Suddenly, from behind the earth mare, the sound of a huff being obscured by something hit her ears, while at the same time a current of hot air blew into the back of her neck. The pink pony instantly figured out that she and the goat were not alone, and her smile disappeared completely as she started to piece together a possible meaning to what Atamanna was saying.

Next thing Pinkie knew, a large hand was climbing up her back, running along her spine as it held no concept of personal space. The hand made it all the way up between her shoulders, slipping under her mane, as it got ever more invasive, almost up to the back of her neck as she felt finger tips make contact with the skin just above her shirt collar. The feeling of foreign flesh touching her own snapped the mare out of her shock, and she found herself turning around to face her would be groper, but what she saw made her freeze up again.

Before her was a tower of a man, with grayish tan fur, bulking muscles, wearing little more than a stylized loincloth, and a set of armlets. There was one more thing, but for a split second Pinkie mistook it to be part of the male, before realizing it was some sort of accessory. Around the male’s head was some sort of helmet or mask, or at least that was the best way to describe it. A piece of brass metal, crafted into the shape of a goat, with amethysts socked in its eyes, and small openings in it at the nostrils and underneath the gemstone eyes, where Pinkie could see another set of eyes staring at her, from within the darkness of the helmet’s innards.

Because this headpiece was around its wearer, it made the head seem a little too big for the body, as impressively large as his body was, and the last detail Pinkie notices about it was that there was a slit down the middle of the mask, which in her rising panic she couldn’t understand what it was for, just that it perfectly segmented the brass object into two sides.

Stunned as she was by this imposing figure, Pinkie could do nothing as it grabbed her by the throat, his hand snatching it with the speed and precision of somepony catching a ripened apple that had fallen off of a tree out of mid air. Pinkie struggled against the male, placing her own hands on his, trying to pull herself away as she put all her strength into prying her attacker’s fingers open. It was little use though, as the male’s grip vastly outmatched Pinkie’s, while at the same time having enough restraint to keep from outright strangling the mare.

“Pinkie,” Atamanna said, staying calm as she watched Pinkie’s struggles, “I would like you to meet Azazel, my most beloved servant.”

“S-servant?” Pinkie asked, more out of fear for the moment than a need for clarification.

“Yes,” said Atamanna, “He provides me with many services, and now he will aid me in granting the wish you desired.”

Without so much of a command, Azazel lifted his arm, picking up the heavy earth mare with one arm, not showing so much as a stutter in his action as he did the task with ease. This left Pinkie supporting the entirety of her weight with her head and neck, which caused a bit of physical stress as the mare made ineffective efforts to pull herself up using the large males wrist as a hand hold, her body flailing about in hopes that the sporadic movement would cause Azazel’s grip to slip. There was no such luck though, as the massive creature’s hold was as firm as steel.

With his captive incapable of escape, Azazel took his other hand, and slowly moved it to a place slightly lower to where his gripping hand was, placing his fingers into the neckline of Pinkie’s shirt, a few of them touching her concealed breasts with their backs.

By now, the pink mare could tell that she couldn’t break free, and as scared as she was, figured out exactly what was gonna happen to her. Tears formed in her eyes, her teeth getting together as a sad frown formed on her usually smiling muzzle. As a last ditch attempt to prevent what she believed was going to happen, she looked Azazel in the eye, and pleaded for mercy by saying, “Please… Don’t… I’ve never…”

The male’s response was swift and brutal, as suddening he sent his two arms in opposite directions, lifting the mare up even higher, while thrusting the hand in her shirt downwards. The result of this action caused her shirt to tear, not from the front, but from the back, as the force pulled it from her body completely. In the same motion, Azazel’s finger caught hold of the earth mare’s bra, snapping its strap hooks, and pulling it off completely as well. Her undressing didn’t end there though, as somehow this hulking creature was a master of tearing clothes off a female, managing to get his huge finger in the space between Pinkie’s belly fat and her lower garments, hooking not only the loop of her shorts, but waist strap off her panties as well. In a single movement, Pinkie went from modestly dressed to embarrassingly naked, her large tits, thick thighs, and untouched pussy exposed to all in the tent, as the tatters of fabric that remained of her outfit were casually tossed to the floor. For Pinkie, it was a struggle to take in what had happened, the reality of what was being done to her too horrible for most to mentally endure.

“Very good, Azazel,” Atamanna said, clapping her hands in approval, “You will be an excellent stud for your new mate, and you have prepped her in record time.”

‘Mate’. There was the word that confirmed Pinkie’s fears. Atamanna said that they’d have to ‘make’ the children she wished for, thus she intended to have Azazel rape her to fulfill the wish.

“Wait!” Pinkie screamed, still able to talk, Azazel managing to refrain from squeezing her windpipe, no matter how forceful he was being, “I take it back! I don’t want to get pregnant!”

“Oh Pinkie,” Atamanna said, a dismissal of the pony’s fear and objection to her treatment in the goat’s tone, “I’m afraid I can’t call Azazel off. Once a wish has been made, it must be fulfilled. Besides, I honestly wouldn’t stop this if I could.”

“You.. WANT him to rape me?!” Pinkie yelled in shock, understanding now that Atamanna wasn’t as benevolent as she presented himself. “No, no, no! Somepony, help!”

“Scream all you like,” Atamanna said, picking up her pet fox to stroke its fur, “No sound escapes my tent. Even if it did, we are far away from Ponyville, and the closest pony that could have heard you has already been taken care of.”

With the mare in his grip stripped of her garments, the only requirement for Azazel to begin breeding her was fulfilled. Despite her outright objections, she was ready to be impregnated. Noting this, Azazel used his amazing physical power to toss her to Atamanna’s bed in the back of the room. To Pinkie’s benefit, it was a soft landing, the mattress practically consuming her as she made impact. The mare hardly noticed the softness of the bed though, as she was too busy trying to keep an eye on the gigantic male trying to fuck her.

Already he was on his way to her, taking slow, but heavy steps to the bed the pony was laying across, the piece of cloth starting to rise up, revealing Azazel’s cock as it begun to take an erect shape. With each step it seemed to grow another inch, and while the distance between his starting point and the bed was short, it had grown to over a foot by the time he made it to the bedside. With no pause in his movements, Pinkie’s soon to be breeding partner climbed onto the bed, crawling his way to Pinkie, the only thought in his mind being the goal of making her into a mother.

Pinkie, on the other hand, had the exact opposite goal in mind, not wanting to get knocked up by some random stranger who assaulted her and would force himself upon her if allowed to do so. Every time he would make a movement closer to her, she would scoot herself back on the bed to keep distance from the imposing male with the brass goat head. This only made Azazel extend the reach of each of his motions for, and soon Pinkie’s attempts to keep away was not only failing to gain her ground, but didn’t even maintain the distance she already had. It wasn’t long before the male was looming over her, his body casting a shadow over her own.

Pinkie, not knowing what else to do, made one more motion backwards, and in that instance something unexpected happened. She slipped over the edge of the bed, falling to the floor, which was a lot less pleasant impact than it was with the mattress. It seemed to come to a surprise to not only her, but Azazel as well, as the face of his helmet peered over the side of the bed in confusion. Seeing him still coming towards her, Pinkie still had escape at the forefront of her thoughts, so in a moment of desperation, she adjusted herself onto her hands and knees, and scuttered herself around the bed, finally getting away from Azazel, and getting to her hooves after just as she felt she was out of the male’s reach.

Upright and touching the ground again, Pinkie ran past Atamanna, displaying some of that uncharacteristic speed for a mare of her body type, her destination being the tent’s exit. She didn’t even bother to pick up her clothing, destroyed as they were, and focused purely on fleeing. It looked like she would make it, as Azazel was so lumbering with his movements that he’d still be trying to get off the bed before he could even try to give chase, and Atamanna hadn’t moved from the spot she had taken to watch things unfold. Pinkie was merely a few more steps away from the dividing curtain, hope filling her being, as it seemed nothing could stop her from getting away from this horrible situation. Of course, nothing else could be further from the truth.

The mare made it to the exit, running to it with all the speed she could manage, but the second she got past the entryway, the scenery of Fluttershy’s cabin outside changed into the inside of Atamanna’s tent. It was as if the world had instantly flipped for her, and she was back to facing the nightmarish couple who wished to do her harm. Completely confused, Pinkie turned around and went through the entryway again, only to once more find herself walking into the tent instead of walking out. Not content with giving up, she did this several more times, each time getting the same predictable conclusion.

After about the sixth time, Atamanna started to laugh at Pinkie’s folly. “I thought that you would be an amusing guest,” she said, Pinkie’s fruitless struggle and desperation providing a great deal of entertainment for her, “As I said, the wish must be fulfilled, and you aren’t leaving this tent until we grant you the blessing of a child. So let’s cease with this foolish attempt to prevent the inevitable, shall we?”

With a snap of Atamanna’s finger, Pinkie suddenly found herself in a new set of clothes, though not even remotely close to what she had on previously. It was more akin to something between Atamanna’s arabian dancer garbs, and what Azazel was wearing, comprised of a lower garment that was little more than a golden string around her waist, with two bits of cloth on its front and back that draped down to her ankles, going over her crotch and flank while keeping her legs exposed, and an upper garment which was likewise a bit of golden string that went around her neck, which held two strips of cloth that traveled over a small portion of her large tits to cover her nipples, before connecting with another golden string underneath her breasts that went around the upper part of her torso. ‘Cover’ was a suggestive term in this case though, as the red silk fabric that the articles of clothing were made of were so sheer that it was transparent, leaving everything underneath on full display.

As counterproductive as it seemed to give Pinkie a new attire to wear, it was obvious to even the mare that these bits of cloth would in no way impede Azazel from his task, and only served to make Pinkie look sexier. They were also accompanied by a set of accessories, the first of which being a set of golden cuffs tightly wrapped around her parts of her arms and lower thighs just above her wrists and ankles. They were thin sheets of metal, fully encircling the appendages, with no seams, making them impossible to remove. Likewise, the mare’s mane had been re-stylized into a poofy ponytail, with another golden cylinder acting as the tie between the ponytail part, and the tightly pulled sections of the strands connected to Pinkie’s head. The last, and most notable part of this ensemble was a golden collar that was now affixed around Pinkie’s throat, seamless like the cuffs, with a silver ring embedded in the front of it.

Pinkie was only permitted a minute to observe her new dressings, which she was more freaked out by than she found herself admiring, as pretty as it did make her look. After that, Atamanna gave Azazel a glance that told him to proceed. The male, now sitting at the edge of his mistress’ bed, obeying the command simply extended his arm out to Pinkie, and from his own bracer, a chain of golden links manifested, appearing in a likewise golden glow of magic that shot right to the silver loop on Pinkie’s collar, directly connecting the two together.

The two now inseparable, Azazel made a circular gesture with his hand, catching the chain with it, and wrapping it around his wrist. The loosely hanging chain went taut, and with another circular wave of his hand, Pinkie felt herself being tugged forward. In one last ditch effort to escape the fate the goat had planned for her, Pinkie turned around to the entrance, and without going through it, screamed “Somepony, help me!” with an intensity that it would have traveled for miles, only to hear her own voice screamed back into her face. Hearing her own voice pleading to her for help she now knew she wouldn’t receive crippled her emotionally, with no strength in her left to resist the pull of the chain yanking her away from the entrance, and back to the bed where her soon to be rapist was waiting.

Pinkie was tossed back onto the bed the moment Azazel got ahold of her, facedown, with her body flat against the soft mattress. With little hesitation, the male grabbed her by the tail, and used it as a handle to lift her ample ass up, while her face stayed firmly pressed into the blankets beneath her. Brushing aside the fabric covering her backside, the space between her legs became unobstructed and exposed, and with no more substantial resistance from the earth mare, Azazel aimed his cock at Pinkie’s pussy, thrust his hips forward, and pulled back on the tail of his helpless victim.

Pinkie felt a harsh pain fill her, as the lips of her pussy spread apart to accommodate the huge object pushing into her, and the flimsy barrier of her maidenhood was torn asunder. She had been a virgin up until that point, her parents instilling into her the value of not having sex before marriage. To have herself defiled like this felt degrading, and a strong sense of depression was washing over her due to the inability to abide by her parents’ wishes in this matter, as supportive of the things she had wished to do with her life outside of their more traditional way of living. It was enough to make her mane lose some of its poof, a small portion of it remaining because she still assumed that all she had to do was let her foolishly made wish get fulfilled, and then she could leave. She wasn’t entirely sure she believed that, but at this point all she had left to hold onto was the hope that Atamanna was just doing what she had to in order to grant the wish the pink mare had made.

With his sizable dick now planted inside the mare’s pussy, and the mare herself no longer putting up a fight against him, Azazel released her tail and took hold of her hips instead. So long as the mare wasn’t resisting, there was no reason to be so harsh with her. Part of the reason he had grabbed her earlier was because she showed a reluctance to accept his touch. While he was at the command of his Djinn mistress, in thrall to the purpose she gave him, when given leeway, the massive male would do things in a manner he found lead to the path of least resistance. Sadism and a want to spread chaos was not his driving force, unlike Atamanna who found great glee in those things, and only the need to obey caused him to act aggressively.

Thus he took things slow, moving himself in and out of the crying mare wrapped around his cock, doing all the work as he guided the motion of his hips with his hands, pushing them forward when he pulled out, and pulling them back as he pushed in. As gentle as he tried to be, the powerful being couldn’t help but use some force, the impact of his hips pressing against Pinkie’s backside enough to push her body forward a little, causing the blanket beneath her to rub against the parts of her body touching it, including her boobs, as poorly protected as they were. With each of his pushes inside her causing her to yelp and cry out, and every retraction of his cock making her gasp and sob, her lungs had to get creative with how she intook air, sometimes using an inhale to produce the sounds of her lamentation.

But as much as the mare hated what was being done to her, her body was having a harder time objecting with how Azazel was treating it. Despite this being the first time the mare had sexual contact beyond masturbation, her vaginal passage had become nicely slick with sexual fluids, enjoying the new sensations the male sex organ was providing. The way it shot its body heat into the mare, and ran its flesh against hers, touching nerves that seldom had the privilege of feeling anything, now experiencing the strong, yet somewhat gentle thrusts running over them again and again. As much as Pinkie disliked it, the stud sent her into her first penis induced orgasm, the muscles inside her pussy trembling in approval of the treatment she was made to go through.

Not long after that, Azazel released a shot of cum into the mare, the hot fluid flowing over her insides, which had become completely enamored with its first taste of sex, and rewarding Pinkie’s participation in the act with a chemically induced flood of good feelings, which she couldn’t ignore, but refused to accept as real pleasure. Still, as inexperienced as she was in sex first hand, Pinkie understood what the things she felt meant.

“So…” she said, crying as she worked to speak through the tears, “That is, right? We’re done?”

Atamanna shook her head, “You can’t expect to get pregnant from just one go. We have to do it a few times, just to be sure.”

As if waiting for his mistress’ comment, Azazel grabbed the mare’s leg, and flipped her over onto her back, his dick slipping out of her for a moment, but being pushed right back inside her as he pressed his crotch against hers, positioning his chest parallel to the pink pony’s. He started his rhythmic thrusts anew, the position allowing her to more deeply penetrate her, his dick hitting a wall inside her that seemed to want to give way, if only the male would go a little deeper.

Pinkie felt her body begin to feel good again as Azazel provided it the pleasure that only came from baby making, becoming a little less saddened by it, and more repulsed by the dick moving around inside her stirred the alreading existing sperm inside her. What she hated most about her continued rape was that in this position, she had to watch the male violating her as he did it, his hand placed over her arms, pinning her down, his body moving up and down over her. That she had to recognize that he wasn’t really hurting her, only making her feel ashamed and violated, frustrated her even more.

As the night went on, Pinkie reached a point where she simply gave into what was happening, she found her fears fading and her tears drying up, and her annoyance at her powerlessness increasing. Each time Azazel made her moan, made her gasp, or made her cum felt like another failing on her part, as she knew that she shouldn’t be enjoying her rape, which in every way other than physically, she wasn’t. When he caressed her breasts, she offered up no resistance, but was made very aware of how good it was to have his hands massage, clamp down, and move them about as he continuously pumped into her. When he changed position, showing her a new angle from which he could make her feel pleasure against her will, it shamed her that she couldn’t block the feeling of his cock out of her mind, and she just had to give in to this new means to pleasure her against her will. Then when he would release another load inside of her, she had to eventually just accept that by the end of the night she’d be carrying Azazel’s child.

Pinkie had no idea how she was going to explain this to her family and friends, but thinking back, had Atamanna just poofed a child into existence, how would she have explained that. Then again, the fact that she would have a child from nowhere wasn’t the problem, so much as she’d have to either admit that she had been raped, or lie to say she had sex with some random stranger. Neither explanation would allow her to live her life the same ever again, with others either pitying her for what had happened, or believing she was just a slut that got knocked up. Maybe her friends and family wouldn’t think that of her, but she would always have the suspicion that was the case. That thought sickened her, but not as much as the onset of another orgasms hitting her mind with another wave of pleasure, having the mare question if she wasn’t just some slut, if she could be enjoying her own rape this much, as one would expect the whole thing to be a miserable affair.

By the end of this ordeal, the two ended up off the bed, Azazel standing upright while using his strength to lift the mare up in his arms, placing them under Pinkie’s legs to press her back against his chest. He had taken lifting and dropping Pinkie on his somehow still fully erect cock, the head of which having made its way past her cervix into her womb, which by this time was harboring a pool of semen within it, that was being constantly stirred up with Azazel’s movements inside her.

On Pinkie’s end, she was still trying her best to be resilient, but having been brought to orgasm a now countless amount of times, she wasn’t having trouble reminding herself to hate this treatment, so much as finding it hard to think altogether. There is only so much pleasure a pony can take before their head starts to get loopy, and Pinkie was a fairly loopy pony to begin with. She was doing her best, but on the horizon of her final climax of the evening, she had been reduced to a panting mess, covered in sweat, with her tongue hanging out of her mouth as she let loose a series of animalistic grunts and groans. If anyone had seen her like this, they would have no problem believing that the pink pony actually loved what was being done to her, which is exactly what Atamanna thought as she watched Pinkie’s gradual attitude change.

“Ok, Azazel,” she said, having sat there for hours watching the two go at it. “I think this last one will guarantee that she’ll be giving birth in nine months.” The goat said this as a joke to herself, as her magic could have easily made Pinkie incredibly fertile from the start, but decided this would make the earth mare more miserable.

Azazel, being given the order, picked up the pace, pushing Pinkie full force on his dick, only to immediately lift her back up, to repeat the process until he was able to add one last burst of cum directly into the mare’s womb, making it so that every shot he had done was deposited into the mare’s pussy, and nowhere else. At the same time, Pinkie achieved her final climax, her eyes rolling up so far they almost vanished behind their lids, a last pleasure filled moan escaping her throat as her mind gave into the sensation, blanking itself to everything save for the feeling of a night of sex.

With his task finished, Azazel saw no more use for the mare, who he had fucked for hours on end, despite holding zero affection for her. While he had treated her gingerly throughout, so long as she obey, now that he had no more obligation to her, the male wearing a goat visage just let her go, dropping the mare to the floor, which brought her back to reality as she landed on her butt, before collapsing to her side. Though she hadn’t done most of the work, the mere act of elongated sex had robbed her of her stamina.

“Is it oveeeer…” she asked, tongue still hanging out of her mouth.

Atamanna got up from her seat, walking over to the mare who was leaking white fluids onto her floor. “Yes, I believe that you are undoubtedly impregnated by now. Congratulations.”

“Yipeeee…” Pinkie said exhausted, and still not very enthused by how things had happened.

“Now we just have to monitor you to make sure you birth it properly.”

“Monitor me?” Pinkie replied, legitimately wondering what that meant.

“We’ll have to keep you… for observation purposes, just to make sure that the wish will be granted.” Atamanna answered.

That explanation sparked a bit of fear inside Pinkie again, as she really didn’t want to stay with the Djinn a moment longer. “Please, let me go home. I promise that I’ll take care of the baby to make sure the wish comes true, just let me go.” She pleaded, struggling to lift her upper body with her arms.

“I’m afraid that’s not the only issue,” Atamanna said, “Because once you’ve given birth to that one, we’ll need to have you impregnated all over again.”

“Again?!” Pinkie replied, absolutely not liking that little detail.

“Why yes,” Atamanna said with a smile, “You wished to be a mommy. To have children. And you will. You will have many, many children, as you are thoroughly bred, as Azazel’s new concubine and breeding sow.”

Pinkie’s first instinct upon hearing this was to run, but then she remembered what happened before. Even if she made it to the exit, she would just appear back inside the tent. Besides, after all the fucking, she could hardly feel anything between her legs.

“But why?” Pinkie said, tears forming in her eyes again, “You were so nice when I first met you.”

“That’s why you don’t trust every stranger you come across,” Atamanna said condescendingly, “Besides, it’s all part of the deal. I grant whatever wish you want, and in return… I. Get. You.”

With that said, Atamanna gave her fingers a snap, causing Azazel to sink into the ground beneath him as if it were made of water. Just before he vanished out of sight though, he grabbed hold of Pinkie’s leg, and took it with him as he disappeared completely.

Pinkie Pie turned her head to spot herself sinking into the floor herself, and fearful of the fate that awaited her if she fell in, clawed around herself in search of something to grab, but everything was just out of reach for her. Soon she had been pulled in up to her waist, and then her breasts, and finally only her neck and parts of her arms remained above the surface.

“Ta ta, my newest slave,” Atamanna said, lifting a leg up, just so she could gently set her hoof on the earth pony’s head, to use it to push the mare into the point of no return.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOoOoOoooooo!” yelled the mare, letting out one last hopeless scream as she sunk completely under the floor, which turned completely solid again the moment Atamanna retrieved her hoof.

As Pinkie Pie’s head went under the surface of the floor, she lost consciousness. Her world was nothing but blank darkness for some time after that, but eventually she felt the urge to open her eyes. However, when the mare did, she wished that she could go back to having never opened them.

She was trapped, dangling like an ornament from a chain that came down from the ceiling of her new location. The bracelets on her arms had been connected to one another, by a small golden plate that merged the two together, and had a slot in it that held a hook connected to the chain holding her off the floor. Pinkie’s entire weight was being placed on her wrists like this, not helps at all that her body had basically been folded in half, her spread apart legs somehow pushed so far back that her thighs managed to be on either side of her torso, going behind her upper arms, and having her ankles meet each other behind her back, where their bracelets were also merged together, making it so her leg made a solid loop the earth mare couldn’t break. Normally, she wouldn’t have had the kind of flexibility needed to do such a thing, and the intense ache of her stretching appendages told her she really didn’t have it even now.

In this state, Pinkie Pie could hardly move, the best she could manage being a slight wiggling, which only served to rattle her chain and jiggle her tits in an embarrassing, but alluring manner. She could turn her head too, the collar on her neck limiting its movement only a little, but that didn’t help the mare in her current predicament. As bad as it was that she was bound and incapable of moving, there was still something worse that she had to worry about, as being bound wasn’t nearly as bad as where she was bound.

She had been taken to some place she had never been before, a place that looked like a palace, but in a state of desecration. The walls were cracked, the windows broken, and the sky outside them only held darkness. There were bits of furniture in the room, from tapestry, to unlit torch holders, and even a throne stationed beside her that sat atop a small set of stairs, much like Princess Celestia’s throne, but everything looked to be unmaintained and in a state of disrepair. It was as if the place was ransacked, and no one remained to pick up the pieces.

Except, someone was there, as Pinkie could hear the whimpers, moans, and cries of dismay filling the darkened room. At first she couldn’t see who was making them, as the voices came from all around her and the mare couldn’t pinpoint the origin of any single voice, but as a crack of lightning shined came from a dark cloud in the sky, the light it provided revealed the many ponies chained to the wall of the throne room, or held within cages that hung from the ceiling as the pink pony did, wearing little more than rags as they lamented their current existence.

“It's like a dungeon,” Pinkie said, unfortunately aware of the trouble she was in.

Another flash of lightning cracked, and Pinkie spotted some movement, coming from the other side of the room, which quickly became concealed by the shadows that consumed everything. It wasn’t another bolt to reveal the figure the next time though, as the broken torch holders came to life, the ones further from Pinkie igniting first, shedding light on Azazel, with each torch gaining a flame as he walked past them. The prisoners in the room pressed themselves against the walls or shrunk back into their cages at his presence, afraid of the goat hooded male for reasons Pinkie could only guess, and being somewhat afraid of him herself as he made his way directly towards her.

However, Azazel wasn’t alone in his stride, as another figure was beside him. Pinkie thought it was Atamanna at first, as that was the most likely person to accompany Azazel, but that thought was quickly dismissed as the person was clearly a pony. Likewise, the pony wasn’t walking beside him, but crawling on their hands and knees, dressed in a similar fashion as Pinkie was, only without her hair done up in a ponytail, with a chain leading from Azazel’s bracer to a collar around their neck. That made it clear to Pinkie what was going on here, that the mare, as the earth pony could now see, was another enslaved creature like herself.

As the two got even closer, Pinkie had a strange sense of familiarity with this new mare, like she had seen her before. She had pink fur, like her own, and dark blue mane and tail. She was also a bit bigger than an average pony, almost as tall as Celestia. While not really in a position to worry about somepony else, Pinkie couldn’t shake that she had met this mare before. Her mind wouldn’t stray from it, the act of trying to remember distracting her from the soreness of her stretched limbs, until it finally dawned on her where she had seen this mare before.

“You’re one of the ponies from Saddle Arabia!” Pinkie said, blurting out her discovery, “The one that came to watch the fireworks!”

The mare didn’t respond, except by giving the pony a brief look of sorrow, before hanging her head downwards once more. Something else responded to Pinkie though, in the form of a voice echoing in her head.

“Very good, Pinkie Pie.” said a voice that was distinctly Atamanna’s, “That is Princess Amira of Saddle Arabia. Another slave to me, just like yourself.”

Pinkie’s eyes darted around, trying to find the goat, not thinking that the voice was coming from inside her mind. She couldn’t see the Djinn anywhere when she searched at ground level, but when she looked up, fear set in her heart when she saw a pair of gigantic eyes looking down at her from the darkness of the ceiling.

“When I was released from the imprisonment of my lamp, it was her brother who foolishly did so.” Atamanna explained, “And his soul that I first claimed as mine. After that, there was no stopping what he had carelessly started, and Saddle Arabia’s citizens were added to my collection one by one. It was so long before they even realized what was going on, that by the time anyone dared to oppose me, it was only a band of guards led by the princess. It was laughable, as no mortal blade or magic can defeat wish magic, or those who wield it. Then, the princess, in her frustration, made a grave mistake. In her rage, she demanded I give her back her brother, not understanding that such a command can be interpreted as a wish.”

The iris’ of Pinkie’s eyes, which were already widened in shock, narrowed down to pinpoints, coming to understand that Atamanna wasn’t just an evil creature, but had already wiped out a kingdom with her wishes, and had the ability to grant them to people that didn’t know they were making a wish, so long as they said something that could be perceived as one. With so much as an ‘I want’ or a ‘Give me’, the djinn could do as she pleased to a pony, and then add them to her collection of poor, unfortunate souls when she decided the wish had been granted.

“So I gave Amira her heart’s desire, reuniting her with her dearest brother,” Atamanna continued, “Only this time he would be the one with higher authority, and she would be his subservant slave.”

With Pinkie’s brain flowing with fear induced adrenaline, it didn’t take long for her to piece things together, and come to a horrifying conclusion; that Azazel was Amira’s brother, Prince Haakim.

“Her life from this point on is to serve his amusement, through serving any desire he may want, be it entertainment, food, comfort, or even her own body.”

“EWW!” Pinkie said, disgusted by the implication a forced relation of incest between the two royal siblings.

“You think your moral standards mean anything here?” Atamanna scoffed, “She, like yourself, serve my whims, trapped in my domain, to never taste freedom again for the rest of eternity. Now… let’s begin the start of your never ending punishment. Azazel, entertain me… And this time don’t go easy on her.”

Given a command by his mistress, Azazel grabbed Pinkie Pie by the base of the ponytail atop her head, using it as a handle to push down on her body. With the force applied, the chain suspending her by her wrists lowered, till her face was at crotch height, and to the earth mare’s dismay, the corrupted stallion’s cock popped back out from behind his loincloth, shooting up to full erection, taping her on the nose during the process.

After that, all it took was a pull forward to push the dick into the mare’s mouth, and if she thought that having vaginal sex felt gross, having a piece of meat in your mouth while being a creature with a strictly vegetarian diet was disgusting, all the more when the sex organ was seasoned with the tangy taste of her own sex. She couldn’t even try to bite down to try and get Azazel to pull out, partially because she felt bad that he was another victim of Atamanna, but mostly because the thickness of his cock stretched her mouth as open as it could be.

When he pushed even harder, shoving himself into her throat, Pinkie could tell that she was going to have to endure this for some time. Not only for this season, but anytime after that Azazel felt the need to follow Atamanna’s order. Her only hope now was that her friends would figure out what was going on, and find a way to save her. Else she was going to be stuck being Atamanna’s plaything for the rest of her life, or perhaps even longer than that.

Atamanna smiled to herself, still sitting in her tent, peering into a small pink gemstone hanging from an earring loop. Through it, she could see the suffering Pinkie Pie was going through within her crafted realm. The gem was a representation of Pinkie’s soul, now forever in the Djinn’s possession, with no hope of salvation. As punishment for her wish, the chubby, pink earth mare would breed ponies who would be raised to become servants to the Djinn, until the day they too gave up their souls to their mistress.

“Who knows,” Atamanna said, “Perhaps this one will come to love her new existence, but let’s try and prevent that for as long as possible.”

Having seen all she needed to, Atamanna took the earring, and put it up to her right ear, where a hole opened up so she could wear the tiny soul gem as a common piece of jewelry. Pinkie Pie was a very special mare afterall, being a piece of the ever weakening Elements of Harmony, and thus deserved a special spot to be displayed. Atamanna already had a matching yellow earring on her left ear, representing Fluttershy that let the goat peering into the fear and confusion the little fox was going through in her current form, and a pink belly ring for the former princess of Saddle Arabia. By the time Atamanna’s goals were achieved, she would be adorned with the most powerful ponies in Equestria, who’s anguish would satiate her sadistic desires till time itself came to an end.

As she admired her newest earring, the Djinn felt another powerful presence approach her tent. This time she was sure it was the Princess of Magic coming to visit, which she found to be correct when she sauntered over to the entrance of her home.

“Welcome, Princess Twilight.” Atamanna said pleasantly at the approaching alicorn, “You came much later than I thought you would, but I’m ready to have you as a guest, and to answer all your questions.”

“Thank you,” replied Twilight, displaying her own manners, “I do have a lot to ask.”

“But where are your friends?” Atamanna said, pretending not to know they hadn’t come with the princess.

“That’s the reason I came, actually,” said Twilight, “I’m afraid that something came up, and I’ll have to set our interview back just a little longer. My apologies, really, but while I have lots of questions about you and your origins, I really need to take care of this first.”

“Are you sure it’s not something I can’t help with?” Atamanna asked, “A simple wish, and any problem you have at the moment would be a distant memory in your life.”

“Oh no, no need to resort to that,” Twilight said, “If I do make a wish, I’d… Well lets just say I’d have to put a lot of thought into it first.”

“Very well,” Atamanna conceded, “Then I wish you safe travel on your way back to town, and hopefully you’ll return to me when you’ve taken care of your troubles.”

“Thanks for being so understanding,” Twilight said, “And have a goodnight.”

Atamanna stood in her doorway, watching a soul that she wanted displayed on her body walk away, an irritated pout growing on her face as the alicorn got far enough away. Something was different in that encounter from the first time they met. Was she being more wary? It felt like she had stumbled on her words, carefully watching her language. Perhaps she was still on guard from Atamanna’s earlier attempt to sneakily grant a wish.

Whatever it was, Atamanna didn’t like it. Not that she felt threatened, but to have such a prize slip away not once, but twice bothered the Djinn. All it would take is a simple slip up, and Twilight would be but another slave at Atamanna’s cloven hooves.

If the princess didn’t intend to make a wish though, there were other ways to achieve the goal, and stepping back inside, she went back to peer into the gemstone that held Yona and her friends inside. Twilight didn’t need to make a wish to be cast into hell, so long as Atamanna found someone who would wish her there instead.