Breaking the Storm

by Shrinky Frod

Rating: mature
Tags: Sex, Narcotics, My Little Pony: The Movie, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance, Porn, Tempest Shadow, Fetish, Capper, Violence
Length: 7963

Tempest Shadow has been many things. Prisoner to a depraved slaver? Not high on her bucket list.

Tempest Shadow. For a long time, a name that brought fear. But in the Wastelands, one that means hope, hope of getting from misbegotten hideouts in the wastes to the relative civilization of the Core.

Unfortunately, sometimes even the best find themselves in bad situations.

CW: M/F Sex, Extensive Non-Con Role Play, Bondage, Pain-Play, Blood-Play, Electrical Stimulation, Mild cum inflation, Physical Abuse, Barbed Cocks, Interspecies, Anthro-on-Feral, Sexual Torture, Overstimulation, Mind Break, Scent Marking

A Clocktower Society Story, originally submitted for Anthology 2. Cover art by Manifest Harmony, (mostly) benevolent overlord of the CTS. Special thanks to Troposphere and Seraphem, for editing and the loan of the Talons characters.

Now with ko-fi link!

Published 2018-11-20 02:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2018-11-20 02:40:01 UTC

Breaking In

An avian screech echoed off stone walls into the evening sky above the Borderlands as Gregor, the massive griffon who led the Talons, pumped a load of thick cream under the tail of the pale blue pegasus beneath him, her heavy belly testament to the fertility of the seed being wasted on her tailhole. The rest of the gang cheered on the show, at least those who weren’t busily banging their own favored bitches or breaking in the new slaves.

Lightning crackled through the wild, uncontrolled clouds high above the stone fort, followed by a deafening peal of thunder in the direction of the Core. Gregor pulled out of his mare, dragging an agonized cry from her throat as she collapsed to the floor, her white mane flopping down over her eyes and almost obscuring the tear-streaked dirt that cut furrows through her fur. She sobbed raggedly, curling up in a tight little ball and wrapping her hooves around her gravid belly. Gregor reached down, playing the back of one talon along the purple and orange band through the middle of her white leather collar.

“That’s a good little broodmare,” he sneered viciously, the corners of his beak curling up as he leaned down to give her a surprisingly tender kiss. “You’re learning your place well.”

“Th-thank you, Master. Fl-slave is happy to please you,” she whimpered.

Gregor took the chain fastening her to the floor in one talon, and was about to pull her up by it when he heard a commotion outside the front gate.

“Somebody open up, we’ve got a fighter here!”

The griffon beat his wings and leapt over to the gate, signalling the guards to raise it and reveal two of his gang members, a unicorn and an earth pony, on either side of a mare whose purple coat was barely brighter than the armor she wore, its iron as dark as the unicorn’s grey coat. Her mane was much brighter, cut into a flared mohawk that ran up her neck and the top of her head to almost distract from the most distinctive part of her.

That was the broken horn in the middle of her forehead,the iron band around it rattling as if it was about to come shooting off.

Despite the violent movement of the ring, her eyes were calm. Entirely too calm, and too proud, for a mare being brought into the Talon’s fortress.

Despite what the unicorn had said behind the gate though, she wasn’t fighting. Not that you could guess it from the look the brown-furred earth pony on her other side was giving her as he held one of the two chains fastened to the shackle around her neck. The other was floating towards the unicorn, both held taut as if they were barely holding her back.

Or just wanted to be as far away from her as they could get away with.

“What sort of half-assed job breaking her in did you two idiots do, Nova?” Gregor demanded. “She might as well be walking in here on her own!”

“If you saw what she did out there, you wouldn’t be asking,” the unicorn, Nova, replied.

“‘ites li’ a ‘imberwol’, ‘ingth li’ a ‘ap ‘ee!” His partner confirmed, turning his hindquarters to show a patch of singed fur.

Gregor scowled, this time turning his ire on the silent mare between them.

“Just *what* do you think you’re doing,” he growled deep in his half-feline throat, stalking towards her. “My friends -”

“Ambushed me while I was trying to lead a friend to the Core; was I really supposed to just sit back and let them take us?” She countered contemptuously. “Besides, he clearly has a spare leg if that one has any trouble.”

Gregor’s eyes narrowed to slits, golden irises flicking over to the earth pony and getting a brief, barely perceptible nod in response.

“Yeah, she’s got a mouth on her too,” Nova cut in. “We figured you’d wanna handle her personally?”

“I think I just might,” Gregor rumbled, taking the chain from the earth pony, leaving a length of slack in it. “Wood, go get that looked at. What happened to her -”

Before he could finish, the mare between them took advantage of the slack and tried to bolt, the rattling inhibitor ring shaking off as she started to move. A shower of sparks shot off from her horn, then an electric bolt shot down to the iron collar. The mare stiffened as the shock passed through her barrel and down her hooves, collapsing as the full force of the bolt knocked the wind out of her. Gregor winced, but didn’t let go of the chain as ‘Wood’ rushed forward, grabbed the inhibitor ring in his mouth, and slipped it over her sparking horn.

“She uh… she ran off while Nova was getting that on her,” Wood explained sheepishly, backing away from the stunned captive. “It didn’t shock her when that happened last the time.”

“Get her in a cage before she figures out how to run again,” Gregor ordered, passing the chain back to his colleague. “A wooden cage; we don’t need her blasting whoever’s breaking her in if that ring comes off again.”

“Yes sir,” Nova nodded, picking the twitching mare up in his magical field.

Then, the entire fortress went silent as three figures approached the open gates. Even Gregor froze as the three quadrupeds, each wearing identical red robes, with spiked breastplates gleaming beneath identical mirrored helmets, silently entered his stronghold..

Gregor recovered himself first, standing up tall and fluffing out his fur and feathers reflexively as he stood in front of the three strangers.

“What brings the Quiet to the Talon’s stronghold?” He asked them warily. His leonine tail flicked behind him, the only part of him that was moving as the figure in the lead silently lifted a hoof and pointed at the bound mare Nova was still carrying. Her eyes widened, the first sign she’d made since arriving that she wasn’t absolutely confident in her ability to get out of here.

“Well, you must be important to somepony,” Gregor observed, looking over at her. She flicked her own tail in the air, waiting for his response.

“Take her then, and good luck keeping a leash on her.”

The orange aura surrounding the unicorn shifted to a deep red one as Nova exchanged control and, without a sound, the Quiet sat her down in front of them. One of them slipped a red gag into her mouth, and then they were gone, gliding over the cobblestone floors and out to the barren ruins surrounding the building, their prisoner trudging along behind them.

“Damn,” Gregor shuddered, smoothing out his feathers and fur. The rest of his raiders stared at him, though it wasn’t clear if they were more shocked by the fact he’d let a prisoner go for free or by the fact he’d said something to the Quiet at all.

“She’d have been too much trouble to train anyways!” The griffon snarled at them, turning around and stalking over to an iron cage that held a young mare cowering in the back corner. He ripped the door open and reached in to drag her out.

“Test your safety bell, slut,” he rumbled deeply, drawing a sharp, lethal claw along her jawline, drinking in the scent of arousal and terrified prey. “You’re about to earn a promotion.”

The golden-furred earth pony mare shivered and shook her tail once, a clear chime sounding. A part of her wanted to keep ringing it, three times, five, however many it took to get out of the bacchanal she knew she was about to become part of.

The rest of her was screaming that it was about time, particularly her soaked marehood, and that was the part of her that won out, stopping the bell after the first ring.

“Good news, boys!” Gregor grinned as he stood up, his barbed shaft dangling tantalizingly close to his trembling toy. “Seems our little princess here’s decided she’s a proper slut after all! Meet your new morale officer!” He grabbed her by the collar, and tossed her the short distance to Wood and Nova.

“Why don’t you two give her the official orientation?”

The young mare squealed, half at the toss, and half at the sight of the massive cock she was about to swallow, before Wood and Nova claimed her face and sopping foal-hole respectively. The rest of the Talons cheered, and soon, the fortress was filled with the typical sounds of squelching cocks and squealing playthings once more.

Tempest Shadow walked quietly behind the Quiet, considering her chances of getting away. They had draped the chains attached to her neck over her back, trusting that she would stay behind them. It would be easy to get away, but was it worth crossing the Quiet? She didn’t know who had sent them for her, or why, but anypony willing to pay that much to get her….

Well, she didn’t think she had any friends who liked her that much. It was more likely somepony she’d crossed over the years.

But she knew the Quiet’s reputation. They would follow her to the ends of the Wastes and beyond to fulfill their contract. Not even the Core was safe from their reach.

No… no, her odds were better if she waited to be delivered to her ‘buyer’ first.

The winds moving the storm towards the Talons’ stronghold up whipped a thick, green-grey dust, the decayed remains of an Equestria destroyed by the very weapons that had saved some of its people. And yet, the Quiet continued to plod silently ahead of her, no word, no look to make sure she was still with them, no sound of hooves striking the rocks they passed over. They had set their path, and expected her to follow them.

They had no concern for the storm, even as a bolt of lightning arced down to strike a point some fifty yards ahead of them, deafening thunder roaring as the dust began to clear.

There, where the lightning had struck, was a towering, hooded figure, tall and thin, wearing the blood-red robes and spiked armor of the Quiet. It had to be a minotaur to be that tall, but it was as thin as the long, gnarled walking stick it held in one hand, the tip flickering with an eerie red just above the thing’s head. She had heard whispers of this creature before, in the Stables where ponies hoped to hide from the raiders and mutants above ground. Hoped to avoid creatures like this. The Gatekeeper.

The Quiet continued towards their destination, and this time, Tempest’s chains did rise to follow them, caught up in the same magical aura that had carried her out of the stronghold.

They would brook no hesitation now.

As they came closer, Tempest felt the air growing colder. It might have just been the weather, but she couldn’t help a part of her mind blaming the silent figure waiting, watching, as each pace brought her closer and closer. Forty paces… thirty… twenty… at ten paces, she could make out that the flickering light above the walking stick was some sort of reddish-purple flame, flickering inside of a gemstone finial at its tip.

The Gatekeeper raised the staff, and struck the base against the ground. Each strike seemed to call down a bolt of lightning, the impact against the dusty earth unleashing thunder as the lightning struck the ground scarcely a full length behind the impassive, crimson specter. Where the lightning struck, a swirling crimson portal rose from the ground, revealing a stony cavern behind, lit by glowing crystals, and echoing with the sound of hellish, demoniac shrieks and screams.

The Quiet stopped immediately in front of the Gatekeeper, who blocked their path to the portal.

It held out a hand, and Tempest saw the leader Quiet reverently place a hoof on the Gatekeeper’s hand, passing over a single, gleaming coin that looked the same as the day it had been minted, before the War. The Gatekeeper brought up its fare, and as the flickering light of the staff reflected off the coin, Tempest could see two green, glittering flares of demonic light from within the hood, where the Gatekeeper’s eyes must be.

Then, the Gatekeeper silently stepped aside, and the Quiet continued along, dragging Tempest forward and through the portal, to whatever Tartarus awaited her.

As she passed through the gate, Tempest felt the familiar ache of magic flowing through her body again. Starting at the base of her horn, she felt the pins-and-needles tingle running back along her scalp, gathering at the base of her skull and flowing down her spine as she passed through. As she emerged on the other side, the painful tingling gave way to numbness, and she collapsed bonelessly to the stone floor of the cavern. The inhibitor ring fell off again as she hit the ground, but one of the Quiet had apparently been ready for it this time, grabbing the ring in a pale orange field and holding it firmly over Tempest’s horn before it could spark again.

As her tail twitched, a small crystal bell tied into the magenta strands rang once, thrice, five times, the clear chime echoing through the caverns. The loudest of the screams and screeching died down as the Quiet wheeled around to check on her, one of them undoing her gag magically so she could speak, the one holding the chain dropping it and passing its deep red magical aura over the stricken unicorn.

“I’ll be okay,” she promised them, “just need a minute.”

She took several deep breaths afterwards, keeping herself calm, her pulse a steady rhythm to focus on. Her tail twitched, and something inside the wild magenta hairs rattled against the floor. Every muscle shifted and twitched beneath her pelt, tingling painfully before going half-numb, the limbs they controlled stubbornly ignoring their mistress’ commands. Once full feeling returned to her body, Tempest collected her legs underneath herself and stood back up, letting the Quiet finish their diagnosis spell.

“Bad teleportation sickness,” she fibbed. “I’m good unless there are any more gates ahead of us. Clockface.”

“Clockface,” said a muffled voice from one of the Quiet. Another of them lifted the gag back into place, and Tempest took it in her mouth, smirking briefly as the first tapped one of the glowing yellow crystals in the wall and sending a soft pulse of light through the dungeon, signalling the all-clear to any who were waiting to see if help was needed. Then the Quiet turned and resumed their journey, tugging roughly at Tempest’s chain and making her stumble after them as they got back into character.

Tempest had no idea where they were, or where they were going. The portal had thrown off every sign she had of where they were, or how to find her way to safety even if she could find a way out of the caverns. For all she knew, there might not be an exit.

She’d never been down to the Underdark… few ever were, at least who came back out to talk about it. The deepest caverns, buried well beneath the wastelands, and occupied by nopony knew what. It was the realm of the Quiet, and of the mysterious masters whose bidding they did. Judging by the cacophony down other tunnels, it probably made staying with the Talons look like a summer camp before the war.

The Quiet led the way to a heavy stone door that opened at their approach, revealing a huge cavern behind it with a stone outcropping just large enough for the three Quiet to walk beside each other safely. Over the edge, a drop into the depths, glowing a pale red somewhere within the chasm, writhing shadows cast against the walls by the flickering light. Half-way across the path, the path widened into a larger platform with a pair of stone columns in the middle that had been studded with steel rings.

Lifting Tempest up onto her hind feet, the Quiet fastened the chains attached to the shackle around her throat to the highest mounting points they could reach, pulling it up under her chin and revealing another collar, this one red with two bands, one orange and one purple, running along either side of a row of silver metal studs.

Next, the Quiet unshackled her hooves from each other, attaching the cuffs to lower attachment points, leaving her spread-eagled on her hind hooves, weight supported by her straining limbs and head unable to move to look away from the blackness that stretched out onto the other side of the chasm, another long stone passageway leading to whatever waited for her there.

Once she was restrained, the Quiet turned and left, the crimson ball gag still in her mouth. The last thing she heard, besides the soft, sussurating glide of twisting things in the depths of the Underdark, was the stone door closing and cutting her off entirely from any hope of rescue or escape.

For the first few minutes, Tempest took the time to collect herself, steel her nerves, and prepare for whatever was coming. Then the quiet began to prey on her.

With the sounds of slithering horrors fading into white noise, the quiet rattle of the inhibitor ring around her horn became the only sound for her to focus on. Tik-tak-tick-tikkity-tak, all in time with the vibration around the always-sensitive remnants of her horn. After what felt like an hour of the constant irritation, but was probably more like fifteen, maybe twenty minutes from being abandoned, it was clear that whatever was waiting for her wasn’t going to introduce itself first.

“Mmmm!” Tempest shouted into the rubber gag, the muffled sound finally drowning out the rattle of the ring. Near-deafening as it was to her after the silence, she was sure it couldn’t have carried far.

Who was waiting for her?

What were they waiting for?

She was there, spread eagled, clearly unable to get herself free.

She couldn’t have just been abandoned down here… had something gone wrong?

Tempest started to lift her tail, ready to flick the bell at the end of it, when an all-too familiar voice echoed through the cavern.

“Commander Tempest Shadow,” Capper’s suave, near-purring greeting came to her, and her eyes narrowed warily. “It’s been a long time!”

The Abyssinian refugee sauntered into view, wearing the top hat and cloak he’d been given so long ago over his thick, tawny fur. He spun a walking stick along his paw, walking it around his fingers with the same casual grace he did everything else. He wore a feline mask, stylized after the Abyssinian seal, white skies behind a red and orange sun, deep purple waters at the bottom giving the impression of a seaside horizon that hadn’t existed since the War. A rainbow of small, feathered whiskers lay flat against the mask; peach, green, teal, purple, silver, and gold..

As he reached the edge of the platform, Capper caught his cane in one paw, grinning at Tempest from beneath his mask

“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”

Tempest growled at him through the gag, eyes narrowing to slits as she tried to stare him down.

Instead of backing down, Capper strolled up to her casually, hooking his stick easily into the mounts well above her head with his superior height and strolling around her with an appraising eye.

“You don’t know how happy I was to find out that you’d finally crept out of your hole again,” Capper taunted her, reaching between her head and foreleg to let her watch him pop his claws. He drew back, and Tempest felt the sharp points dig through her body suit and pelt, sliding down and slowly ripping the cloth covering up most of her fur. Her coat was slick with sweat, and the cold air of the cavern made her shiver. It was definitely the chill, and had nothing to do with the deep, seductive voice purring into her ears as he finished shredding the cloth at her back..

“I’ve been looking for you for a long time now,” he told her, his breath rumbling deep in his throat even while he spoke. “I’d almost given up on finding you, but you just... had… to… be… you.” Each of the last words was punctuated with part of her armor falling to the stone platform, first the four plates protecting her shoulders, and finally the breastplate clattering loudly at her hooves.

He stripped her body suit off next, inhaling deeply as he exposed her, then running his broad, rough tongue up her fur, tasting the heavy, musky scent and sweat that had built up there since she’d set out from the Stables. His tongue drew a lazy path through her fur, prickling and stinging against her skin as he licked her from shoulder to the strap of the gag.

“Where are my manners, I’ve just been hogging all the conversation, haven’t I?” He undid the gag and it it fall next to the armor. Tempest worked her jaw for a moment, then tried to look back at the cat behind her.

“Good to see you too, Capper. Funny though, I thought you sold ponies, not bought them.”

“Tempest, you wound me,” Capper laughed. “I didn’t pay a single horseshoe for you! I just called in some old favors with some very old acquaintances.”

“You’re a Klugetowner, that’s still buying,” Tempest countered. “And if you had anything good in mind….” She rattled her chains lightly, “These wouldn’t be necessary.

“Those are because I know you! And if they weren’t there, we probably wouldn’t still be talking right now. Not to mention,” he added with a roguish wink, “I wouldn’t be enjoying the view nearly as much.”

Tempest flicked her tail up between her legs, covering her nether-regions and teats as well as she could.

“How the mighty have fallen," Capper tsked. “From the left hoof of the Princess to just another wasteland slut. It’s a pity, really.” He bent down to pick up her armor, completely disregarding any threat she might pose if she got loose while he moved it out of the way behind her. “You could have been one of the strongest fighters in the Core. Could have started your own gang of raiders and have a territory that dwarfs the Talons.” He finished moving everything and came back around in front of her.

“Instead, you’re a glorified tunnel rat, running ponies from one hiding place to another just so they can pretend they’re safer in the Core than in whatever tomb they’ve holed up in.”

“You’re one to talk, staying down here with the Quiet. At least the Stables get some fresh air once in a while.”

“Oh, I don’t live down here,” Capper laughed. “This is just where I conduct my more delicate business matters. Klugetown taught me not to do that where I live.”

“So what, you’re going to sell me to some arena master or brothel owner in the Core now?”

“Tempest, Tempest!” Capper pouted behind his mask. “Even at my lowest, I wouldn’t have done that. Verko probably would have, but I have higher standards. You, my dear, have nothing to fear about being sold off. Once we’ve finished some business between the two of us, you’re free as a bird!”

“What do you want, then?”

“Stable sixty-nine. There are some very wealthy individuals who are willing to pay quite a lot for its location. Enough to make us both very wealthy. Enough for a safe, quiet place in the Core, well above the psychopaths who treat ponies like the ones you’ve been bringing there like sexdolls,”

Tempest glared at the Abyssinian and spat in his face, the wad of thick, equine spit rolling down his mask to the feathered whiskers.

“Go fuck yourself.”

Capper reached up and cleaned the spittle from his mask, eyeing it distastefully before flinging it over the edge of the platform. He drew up to her, his furry chest pressed against her abdomen, looking down into her face while she glared defiantly into his.

“Need me to repeat myself?” Tempest drew a deep breath, collecting a throatful of phlegm, before Capper reached up and clapped her mouth shut with one paw, making her choke on her own fluids and start coughing into her closed muzzle, a bubble bursting out of one nostril as she tried clearing her airway.

“I heard you the first time,” Capper chuckled, releasing her muzzle and running a claw down her throat along the thickness of her jugular. “If you really want, we can do this the fun way. Fun for me, at any rate. It’s been a long time since I’ve had somebody to get information from who promises to be so… resilient,” he decided. His paw wandered down her barrel, until he suddenly tensed his fingers and drove his claws into her side, raking long gashes along her ribcage.

Tempest hissed, bracing herself for the next cut, her leg flinching as he clawed at her thigh, working his way around behind her to sink his claws into the toned meat her of flanks. Her nostrils flared, heart racing as she strained her head forward and away from him, but the chains held her in place as his teeth came down on either side of her spine - and stopped there, the tips just barely touching her skin through her fur.

“I could kill you right here, and nopony, nobody would ever care,” Capper purred against her mane. “Give me a reason not to. It would be such a loss, if you couldn’t help ponies any more just because you protected one stable of them from my buyers. They’ll just end up being taken by the Talons or other raiders anyway.”

“You’re not that ruthless. Besides, you kill me, and you don’t get anything,” Tempest pointed out.

“You’d be amazed what ponies in the Core will pay for. It doesn’t have to be the Stable, not right now.” He dug his claws further into her flanks, dragging shallow furrows through her flesh, blood flowing from the fresh wounds. “Why don’t we start smaller. How about….” Capper released her flanks, and she felt him moving around behind her, but couldn’t tell what he was doing. “...your name. Your real name.”

“What’s that supposed to me-hean!” Tempest gasped as Capper’s paws clapped over her fresh injuries, cold and slick with a gel that made everything intensify; the prickle of his clawtips against her coat, the trickle of her own blood down the backs of her thighs, the pain of having him press against her wounds.

“Exactly what I said, Tempest. Tell me who you really are.” Capper massaged the gel into her cut flanks, and then over the other, shallower cuts, drawing a pained whine when the tiny slices, not enough to completely kill the nerves carrying sensation from the skin to her brain, were slicked down.

Suddenly, the Abyssinian pressed in close, kissing her on the muzzle, forcing her jaw open by squeezing at the base. She responded instinctively as he pressed his tongue in, pushing back, fighting with him for dominance over something. As her tongue slipped into his mouth, he bit down hard, metallic blood flowing freely as something inside of his mouth shattered and spilled a harsh, burning liquid down both their throats along with sharp little shards of a sugar-glass ampoule.

They both swallowed, hard, taking in a mouthful of blood mixed with whatever potion he’d just dosed them with, and he pulled back to wipe his lips clean.

Tempest spat out her own blood, the worst wound on her tongue closing quickly, but still burning where the smaller cuts had been left.

“Tempest. Shadow.” She spat out, glowering at him as he shook his head and laughed.

“Do you really think I’d ask if I didn’t know that’s the wrong answer? Maybe this will help loosen you up a bit.” He kissed her again, plunging two fingers into her folds, dragging his claws down her side as she let out a muffled scream into his mouth, the pain blending together with the sudden intense intrusion to start building into arousal.

Capper slid his fingers in and out of her, finger-fucking her with surprising tenderness before the claws came out, raking along her most sensitive parts, not enough to draw blood but enough that every part of her body screamed to expel the dangerous intruders. She clenched down around him, her entire hypersensitive body riding the line between pain and pleasure before he pulled his fingers out. He reached up, hooking his soaked fingertips under the inhibitor ring and pulling it off, catching an arc of magical lightning between two claws.

“Now what should I do with this?” He grinned, baring sharp teeth and spreading her folds with his free paw as sparks rained down from above.

The air sizzled as he moved quickly, and Tempest screamed as he brought her own magic down to shoot across her clitoris with a sharp cracking sound.

“The tricks you learn from weather ponies,” Capper chuckled, putting the ring back in place. “Now, your name.”

“Tempest. Shadow!”

“Of course, you have to be stubborn,” Capper sighed. He grazed his hand down Tempest’s right side as he walked around behind her, and she tightened her back just before he punched her low in the back, pain erupting from her kidneys as he followed up with a second blow to the left, neither one as hard as she was sure he could have hit her, but each knocking the wind out of her and leaving her straining to breathe, let alone put weight on her hind legs.

“I don’t like using these tactics, but I will if you keep resisting like this. Your name!”

“Tee-ess-three-oh-six-niiiiine!” Tempest felt tears rolling down her cheeks as Capper clutched her just below her left foreleg, pinching the sensitive bundle of nerves there and making the entire limb go numb beneath the white-hot agony tearing through her side.

Without another question, Capper balled up his fist and drove it up and into Tempest’s chest. Her eyes went wide as she went limp in her chains.

“St-sta-stair-” she gasped, fighting to draw air back into her lungs.

“Shit,” Capper swore under his breath, reaching for one of her chains. She turned her head to rub her face against his arm, and looked up into his eyes pleadingly. Her head shook from side to side almost invisibly, but he could feel it.

“Your name, slut,” he repeated, his voice less steady than before.

“Eh-eff-bee… eff-bee… two-six… zero-eight.” Tempest panted. Capper took the padlock on the red collar on her throat and glanced at the back. FB-2608.

“Good girl,” he smiled, smoothing out his tail behind him.discreetly. “See? It isn’t so hard to answer questions, is it? All you have to do is tell the truth, and there’s no need for any unpleasantness.” He stroked her cheek gently.

“Now,” he continued, “the Stable?”

“Use me for a… punching bag… all you want. I’m not giving them up.”

“I was hoping you’d be reasonable,” Capper sighed. He took her horn in his paw again, and pressed one claw up against the scarred core at its center.

Tempest squeezed her eyes shut, biting down hard on the shriek that wanted to escape as Capper pushed in, penetrating the thick keratin that protected the nerve-dense center of her horn, almost like he was driving a hot poker directly into her brain. His claw rubbed against the inner surface of her horn, and this time Tempest couldn’t scream. Her entire body clenched up, splashing the floor beneath her with marecum as an intense orgasm ripped through her body.

“You *are* a filthy little slut, aren’t you?” Capper tsked as he stepped back, a drop of blood beading up around the tiny hole he’d made into her horn. “You actually got off on that… well, no wonder pain isn’t motivating you enough. I suppose I’m going to have to get creative then.”

He reached up, unshackling her forelegs and throat, and Tempest collapsed to the stone platform limply. Only the incoherent moans and mumbles escaping from her slack jaw even said she was still conscious, if barely. Capper laid down next to her, nuzzling her cheek gently.

“Clockface,” he said, taking off his mask.

“Dun wanna stop,” Tempest murmured and pouted.

“And that’s why we’re stopping, for a few minutes,” Capper told her firmly. “Before anything else happens, I want to make sure it’s you who doesn’t want to stop, not your inner pain slut.”

“Dun have an inner pain slut,” Tempest protested. “She’s out here.”

“I just triple yellowed you, knocked out your foreleg, and fondled your thaumic nerves. We’re waiting.”

Tempest didn’t have a reply to that one, just huffing and pressing her side up against Capper while she rested.

“I just don’t want to come all the way out yet,” she sighed after a minute.

“You’re talking better again, so you probably won’t have to,” Capper chuckled as he licked at her cheek. “How are you doing?”

“Probably going to piss blood for a week, but totally worth it.”

“If I’d hit you that hard, with the starbright, you wouldn’t be conscious yet,” he reassured her. “If you are, and I find out you don’t get checked on, I’m taking it straight to Redheart.”

“Ugh, you would, wouldn’t you,” Tempest sighed. She reached down with a hoof to stroke Capper’s sheath and the tapered, barbed shaft that was pressing against her thigh.

“So, am I ready to be chained up so you can use this on me yet?”

“You’re already as chained up as you need to be,” Capper purred. “This will hurt, before I’m done. Have you ever been with an Abyssinian before?”

“Lived with a griffon expat when I was sixteen. I know what I’m in for. Besides,” she smirked and turned to kiss him playfully, “he was much bigger,”

“It’s all in how you use it,” Capper smirked back at her. He stood up and pulled a bottle out of his cape. He popped the cork from it while she stood up, and offered her the coffee-scented draught. “Shot of dash; you’re going to need it.”

Tempest took the bottle in her lips and tipped it back, swallowing the bitter contents and spitting the container over the edge while energy surged through her.

“What is down there, anyway?” She asked him as he walked around behind her. “I didn’t think there were layers below the Underdark.”

“Technically, there aren’t.” Capper slid his hands along her thighs, dragging his claws lightly against her cutie marks. “Orv is just a part of it. You want to find out what’s down there… well, you’ll have to come back another time, won’t you? I didn’t have time to reserve a vault when I found out you were in the Borderlands. Clockface?”

Tempest took a deep breath, centering herself and trying to get back into character.

“Clockface,” she confirmed.

“Last time I’m going to ask nicely.” Capper leaned forward, digging his claws into her hips just beneath the bursting fireworks of her cutie mark. “Where. Is Stable. Sixty. Nine?”

“Not. Telling. You. Anything!” Tempest gasped as Capper thrust his hips forward, spreading her easily with his conical shaft. It was more at the shock of feeling herself being invaded, and the feeling of his claws piercing her skin and digging in for purchase, than any real pain from the penetration.

That came when he drew back, the stiff barb-hairs that lined his cock raking the nerve-dense, dripping flesh at Tempest’s entrance, and stabbing into her clit every time it winked out to present itself as a target for the Abyssinian’s member.

Tempest whinnied as her captor started to pound into her at a punishing pace, her tail flagged high and to the side as the Clocktower potions he’d given her made each barb feel like a tiny claw digging in and raking its way out of her. She’d been with a griffon before, certainly, but it had been long ago, and never with starbright added in to enhance the sensation.

Capper released her hips and slid his paws up her sides, his chest and throat rumbling with a non-stop purr. He put his paws over her kidneys, still tender from the punches he’d given them earlier, and started kneading against them in time with his thrusts. As he felt his balls starting to tighten, he pushed down hard on both of them, snarling as he pumped his seed into Tempest’s hungry sex.

She let out a whorish moan of her own as pain radiated through her back and sides, the warmth of Capper’s juices filling her pushing her over the edge into her own orgasm. Part of her couldn’t help but be disappointed though; she’d hoped that after the build-up, the main event would take more than the minute or two it had been.

Then Capper started thrusting again, Tempest’s well-worked cunt dripping a mix of marecum and tomcat seed down her thighs.

“Wh-what… again?” Tempest looked back over her shoulder at Capper. The Abyssinian grinned sadistically down at her.

“I haven’t even gotten started, Twenty-six-oh-eight.” He kept pumping his hips in and out of her, his barbs working already-oversensitive skin, now painfully hypersensitive, in a wet, squelching accompaniment to his thrumming purr and wicked words. “Didn’t your griffriend prepare you? Don’t worry though. I wouldn’t *dream* of having you hold back on my account.” He bent down, pressing his impossibly flexible body flush against hers and biting down hard on the back of her neck, just below her collar, claiming her with his teeth as he pounded her into another orgasm.

This time, he didn’t even wait for her to finish, he just kept thrusting through it, dragging her second orgasm into a third, a fourth, before Tempest’s body finally decided it had had enough and just waited for the cat’s next load of thick cream. He didn’t make her wait long, pumping his third load between her thighs just as she stopped quivering from her extended climax.

Tempest trembled as Capper’s paws slid around her sides, trying to pull back as he dragged his claws along her belly. Sweat poured down her brow, instincts warring against each other. A primal, hungry part of her brain felt the teeth of a predator against her throat, smelled feline excitement, arousal, and hunger. Another part felt those barbs working in and out of her dripping cunt, churning their mixed juices into a thick, red-tinged slurry of pain and pleasure made physical.

It was all so wrong, it went around to become right again. She deserved this. Deserved to be helpless beneath somebody she’d wronged. Deserved for him to use her however he wished, whether he wanted to fill her with impossible kittens or bite down on her neck and deliver the sentence traitors warranted.

She screamed as he worked her tired body into another orgasm, her pussy clenching down around him, hungry for even more of his seed, her clitoris winking out to be raked and kissed by his barbs, leaving the little nub raw and angrily red, eager for more abuse.

He wasn’t as long or thick as a stallion, or even as the griffon she’d travelled with, but any shortcomings in physical dimensions were made up for by his seemingly preternatural knowledge of exactly how to move to keep her stimulated constantly, riding the razor’s edge between pleasure and pain.

Finally, the part of her mind that kept track of the difference between the two decided to give up. All that was left was sensation, throbbing, wild, orgasmic bliss blended with moments of respite just long enough for her to feel Capper’s paws roaming over her belly where it felt impossibly full of his seed. Then he’d pop his claws out and graze her rigid nipples with them, and push her into another spiraling whirlpool of sensation.

Eventually, the blur of pleasure and pain began to fade, giving way to a sort of pain and exhaustion Tempest had never felt before. Parts of her body she’d never been aware of, muscles that had never been worked out like this, all began to hurt. Parts of her that, thanks to the starbright, she was conscious of for the first time. Parts of her that, utterly exhausted, wanted her to collapse and sleep, but that went unheeded because of the dash.

And throughout it all, as her throat became raw and ragged, as she started begging for Capper to stop, pleading with him not to make her climax again, the Abyssinian kept humping her like a thing possessed. He savored the musky scent of sweat and sex, of lust and pain and fear, a cocktail more potent than anything the Clocktower’s researchers had ever brewed. Nature may have short changed his people as far as endowment was concerned, but it had made up for it in endurance.

Capper’s tawny-furred balls slapped wetly against his plaything, pausing only as his feline mating instinct began to flag, his refractory periods slowly growing longer.

By the time he’d lost track of how many times he’d pumped Tempest full of semen and seed, her voice was gone completely, only rasping, ragged breaths coming out.

“It’s empty,” she croaked as his hips stopped pumping. She had to get it out, had to say it before he started breeding her again. She needed him to stop, damn the consequences, whatever she had to say she’d say it.

“Whole stable moved… just… buying time.” She hacked and coughed, then whined as Capper drew his cock out of her, leaving her blessedly free of the day’s torture. Tempest rolled onto her side, pulling herself into a ball as well as she could, tail tucked up between her legs as she started to tremble and shake.

Capper quickly undid the last shackles, around her hind hooves, and then curled up with her on the cold platform.

“It’s okay,” he crooned gently, “it’s all right. You saved them. They’ve all gotten away by now. You’re a good pony, Tempest.” He shrugged his way out of his cape, draping it over them both like a blanket as he hugged Tempest close as her sobs started to subside, and the painful spasms through her sides gave way to the gentle, rhythmic breathing of sleep.

“You’re a good pony,” he whispered, kissing the back of her head before crawling out from under his cape and retrieving his mask.

With a grunt, Capper picked Tempest up, carrying her back down the path to where he’d come from earlier. Without her armor, she was surprisingly light, like most ponies he’d met. She had more toned muscle beneath her pelt, certainly, but in the end… she was just another little pony, not much bigger than a typical Abyssinian.

On the other end of the path, the stone wall had two doors in it. One looked just like the entrance to the cavern, but the other was painted in bright hazard yellow, lit up like a billboard once you were behind the strategically placed barriers meant to keep it from distracting those in the play area. As Capper walked up, the doors opened, and he ducked under a sign labelled “Safe Block 66.” Just inside the door, he turned to the first room, with a bright yellow “6” painted on its door, and sat Tempest down on the nest of pillows he’d prepared earlier.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up,” he murmured, hanging his cape up on a rack behind the door. He’d get his hat and her armor later; for now, he wanted to make sure she was all right.

Without a second thought, Capper laid down in the pillows next to her, snuggling up close and starting to lick the blood, cum, sweat, and even the lingering dust of the Borderlands from Tempest’s matted fur. He treated her gently as a kitten, his rough tongue scraping her clean before he patted her coat back into place, combing her gently with the tips of his claws. He took particular care around the places he’d gouged, bit, and punched her earlier, only getting up to fetch some ointment for her cuts, and numbing cream for her chafed, aching marehood. When he’d finished, he pressed up close, holding her and rubbing his face against the back of her neck.

“Thank you,” Tempest murmured tiredly. “Drink?”

“Right in front of you. Want any help?” He asked her.

“Not that crippled,” Tempest muttered, opening her eyes and taking one of the three water bottles waiting in the middle of the ‘nest’ in her hooves. She took the cork in her teeth and pulled it out, spitting it off to the side and drinking the contents down greedily.

“Just not sure how tired you were,” Capper promised. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I just had my brains fucked out.” Tempest gave a short laugh. “Griffons do not do that!”

“It just sounds like bragging if I warn you.” Capper smiled into her fur, nuzzling firmly against her back. “But I meant about what happened after.”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” she sighed. “But you’re going to make me, aren’t you?”

“Nah. That’s your dom’s job, or a Den Mother’s. As long as I didn’t go too far?”

“I didn’t safe word,” Tempest pointed out, taking the second bottle and drinking it more slowly than the first. “I didn’t forget how, either.”

“Good.” Capper purred and rubbed her side gently, the two just snuggling together while Tempest finished riding out the wave of endorphins flooding her brain. The feeling of his body vibrating against hers was soothing, almost paternal.

“Sorry I worried you,” Tempest murmured as she finished the second bottle of water.

“Don’t be,” he scolded. “It’s my job to worry about whether or not I’ve gone too far. Especially when it’s an impromptu session.”

“I was wondering why you’d sent the Quiet to get me,” Tempest chuckled. She groaned and rolled over in Capper’s arms, nuzzling his chest. “Didn’t trust yourself to be able to catch me?”

“If you didn’t want me to catch you? Absolutely not. Besides, I’m not as much into the hunt as I am playing with my prey.” He grinned, starting to lean in to nuzzle Tempest again. Instead, she leaned in herself to kiss him unexpectedly.

“Mmm… maybe the next time we meet out here, you can just steal me from the Slave Pens,” she teased him. “The Talons would’ve sold me off eventually. If I didn’t just take them over.”

“Actually,” Capper winked, “I was thinking that maybe the next time, we could take a little trip out to West? Let you wear the mask for a little while?” He playfully took his off and sat it on top of her muzzle.

“Mmm… maybe,” Tempest allowed, tossing the mask aside and kissing Capper again.

“But I was thinking….” She blushed faintly beneath her fur. “Maybe you’d like to see how I look in white, instead of red?” She lifted her head to expose her throat, and the padlocked collar around it.

Capper stroked his fingers against the fabric, over her windpipe, and then tucked his head gently up under her jaw.

“Beautiful, of course,” he purred. “But I’ll have to see it to be sure.”

“Keep working me over like tonight,” she murmured, resting her head against his and hugging him back in her forelegs, “and you’ll have a fight to see me any other way.”