Author's Note

Warning: This chapter contains Non-consensual sex, death, gore.

Exquisite Corpse

A heavy bulk settled atop Trixie who sleepily stirred back to partial awareness. It was almost pitch black in the tent, her muscles still pleasantly sore. A still dozing Shining Armor happily spooned and nuzzled her, his snout buried within her messy mane, forehooves wrapped around her barrel as he kissed and nibbled on her. Her ears twitched in reaction. His partially chubby member rested between her buttocks.

"Mmmm...feisty, aren't we? Not that Trixie minds." She pressed her backside against his crotch, grinded upon it, until his stallionhood was lined up with her vulva, and sunk inside it once he pressed closer. He lazily bucked into her.

At first it was rather pleasant. However she soon needed more, the frustration building as she teetered on the edge, unable to find the release she needed. "This is torture," she whined but didn't wish to wake him up. An aura lit up her horn as she used her magic to manipulate her teats and nipples, and she sunk both hooves desperately between her loins, stroking her swollen clit and slick slit steadily. "Better. But it's still not enough."

Sunset rose with a stretch and quietly trotted over to her with a coy smile. "Having a little trouble?" She shook her head at the dark look the witch shot her. "Sorry, I don't mean to tease you. This isn't unusual for him, really. Listen closely."

He murmured, "Cadance," between muted snores.

"I've been there. Lots of times. Allow me to help you out." She positioned herself so that her snout was lined up with Trixie's marehood, and likewise placed her own pussy before the mare. Her hooves wrapped around her buttocks, felt the stallion's hips brush into them with each trust, while she sunk her snout into the moist flower before her.

Trixie fondled the pair of pert asscheeks and lapped at Sunset's cunt and anus. She yelped a little when he bit her on the nape of the neck, moving faster-and-faster with his need, his girth now filling it out nicely. She flushed and panted between licks. While the initial stages of her pregnancy weren't noticeable yet she still carried his child in her. A product of when she'd ravished him. She couldn't wait for him to cum inside her again.

*****

While they were supposed to simply stand guard outside the tent, Flash Sentry and Fleur di Lis couldn't help but be curious about the sounds that always came from within, especially now that another mare had been invited inside. They pulled the flap aside and peeked in at the trio who were busy making love. Both knew they shouldn't spy like this, but they couldn't help but feel pinned there, disappointed they weren't invited too.

She nibbled and pecked on his neck, until his tiny furs stood on end, one hoof rubbing his muscles, the other one stroking his cock. He'd never been with such a forward mare before, figured it was probably an influence from having to hang with the stallions all the time, constantly struggling to prove herself around soldiers who doubted her.

"You want to be inside both of them, don't you?" Her voice was sultry as she draped her breasts upon his back. "Or maybe all three of them? I think you've always been a tad curious about your Captain. What his cock would feel like inside you."

"No," he whined low as his precum rolled over her hoof. "I like...pussy..." He took her by surprise, grabbing and flipping Fleur onto her back, his hooves over hers as he plunged his dick into her. A small plash erupted from her nethers immediately as her cheeks turned a pastel rosy color. He bucked into her with a grunt. "You...like that...?"

She narrowed her eyes almost shut and smirked at him, spreading her thin legs wide to allow him easy access. "I like a stallion that can take charge. But can you keep up with me? Whatever you may think, I'm hardly a mere shrinking violet. I-"

He kissed her hard to shut her up. Felt her bite his lower lip as he continued to slam into her. He hoped no other ponies were about to see this, but at the moment he was so horny he couldn't stop. They continued to play the voyeurs, watching Trixie and Sunset eat each other out, while Shining Armor mindlessly bucked into the former's wet hole.

"We...we'd better return to patrol soon," admitted Fleur.

"Just a minute. I'm close." He watched his Captain's face twist as he came, felt his own penis strain, until he unloaded hot spunk into her tunnel. She wrapped her legs around him and squeezed tight, plucking her clit telekinetically to help her finish.

Never one to leave a partner hanging, he wrapped his wings around her, massaging her back and buttocks as he kissed her. He was too limp to buck her well anymore so he helped stroke her pussy and rectum with his hooves instead. She moaned low into him. Felt another warm splash erupt below. It was far from her best orgasm but it would do.

*****

Shining Armor stirred as he lost himself in his dreams. Without the aid of Luna to help their slumber, many ponies slept uneasily these days, unable to cope with this mad new world they found themselves in. He was no different. At the best of times he dreamed about his wife and their foal. And at the worst he recalled moments which left him vulnerable. Colossal failures that he could never hope to make up for.

One of those was Pinkamena Diane Pie. She'd been captured by raiders during their travels, and while his soldiers had fanned out in smaller parties to recover her, one of them led by him, they were far too late by the time she was finally discovered. They discovered her amidst a forest surrounded by dozens of bodies and soaked deep red.

Weeks passed while the stallions executed Pinkie Pie's family before her. Her parents, sisters, the Cake family and their foals, even her numerous copies made from a spell based on the Mirror Pond, reduced to meat, viscera, and lots of blood. Then they pressed cold steel to her throat, stuffed all her holes in tandem for hours on end as she cried, mocked her as they told her she'd never be able to laugh anymore.

Her mane had fallen straight sometime ago. She'd stared at her own tired reflection in a blood-pool which parted under her tears, nearly choked when they rubbed her face into strings of bowels, from who she didn't know and it hardly mattered now. Something inside her finally snapped. She started to cackle hysterically despite the cock in her mouth. Without any concern for her life she sunk her teeth in and sawed it apart.

He howled and bled and tried to pull away, his penis coming apart in meaty chunks, blood mixing with semen to fill her mouth. Somehow she managed to wiggle free of the hooves holding her arms behind her, seized the knife held to her throat, and plunged it into the eye of the rapist below her. Before the one atop her could react she opened his throat and watched him stumble about and choke upon his own blood.

A bullet whizzed by her as she hurled the knife into the groin of her would-be killer. Within seconds she was bathed in a red mist, dancing and dodging between over a dozen armed raiders, cutting them down in ways that intentionally prolonged their agony. She laughed and laughed the entire time. Butchered them like they had her loved ones and so many others. Didn't stop until the last one laid eviscerated.

They had done their best to bring her back from the brink, but her mind was completely lost, and while she'd never aimed any real violence at anypony other than their enemies, he decided it was too risky to let her run free. He'd had no choice but to have her committed. Her cackles still sounded in that padded cell wall. Sometimes her friends would still visit her, but to his shame he found this failure to painful to revisit.

He held the mare closest to him and whimpered in his sleep. Soaked in the comfort she provided him. Sunset would always tell him he wasn't responsible, and while he wanted to believe that was true, he'd never been able to quite internalize that.

*****

From the ruins of a collapsed temple, a stone pyramid was built by slaves under the instruction of the mistress, deep within the overgrown jungles. The obsidian triangular structure was infused with power from the blackest arts. Its numerous layers were stocked with cultists shrouded in black robes. Blood from sacrifices ran down the slots carved down its sides and splotches were dried up upon its innumerable steps.

At an altar within sat Twilight upon a throne made from the bones of skulls of ponies. The steps that led to her were raised high above the worshippers below. Sconces with torches lined the walls. The alicorn had transformed herself over time to better resemble the Princesses; she now towered over most ponies yet maintained her beauty.

She flipped through her poor copy of the Necronomicon, which she'd cobbled together herself, a combination of her own pain-staking work, a forbidden tome that once belonged to Sombra, and secrets she'd extracted from her host's old adversaries. She tortured each of them until she was satisfied their last mysteries were extracted then murdered them anyway. She couldn't afford to tolerate any potential rivals to her plans.

For all this book's considerable power it absolutely paled next to the real-deal. Not to mention it could easily be destroyed unlike the Necronomicon. Once she'd constantly sent her minions out to hunt it down with no luck. Frustration had made her particularly murderous. She'd lost count of the species she'd had wiped out as a result.

Near her she kept the counterparts of Shining Armor and Cadance from the parallel world. While they awakened a portion of their mystical potential upon their arrival in Equestria, they were poor facsimiles next to their Equestrian doubles. Nevertheless she used the stallion to seed the mare cultists she considered worthy to stock the elites of her boundless army. The rest would be turned over to lesser stallions.

Shining Armor dug his hooves into the manes of Adagio Dazzle, Aria Blaze, and Sonata Dusk, the sirens-turned-mares sucking noisily on his cock. He forcefully drove their heads down, repeatedly came upon their faces and in their mouths, the broken stallion now little more than a walking spermbank who lived to inseminate broodmares.

"Good sluts," she said to the trio of her favored cultists. "Drink his mana down. Let it fill your bellies and wombs." She patted their domes in a condescending manner.

Adagio popped her snout loose from his dick for a moment, a messy trail of semen and saliva still attaching her, sweaty poofs of hair wild about her shoulders. Like her sisters she was dressed in an open black cape. "We love to worship his powerful cock!"

She dived back in and took his shaft to the base. Her companions continued to violently lap at his veiny thickness, their faces stained a deep pink with their shameless lust. Afterward he took turns mounting the trio, who pressed their shapely asses together, presenting themselves to him, begging him to do them the honor of taking her first. Twilight had fed him a constant supply of potions to increase his stamina and volume of his sperm. By now his lust-addled mind could last nearly an entire day of continuous sex.

The mechanical topmost portion of the pyramid opened automatically and a dim light spilled in. She'd stolen the technology she couldn't build herself from Flim and Flam; the brothers had recognized her power and attempted to cut a deal. She'd played along with their schemes for her own amusement only to feed them into their own wood chipper. Now their devices were worked into her temple and turned into engines of war.

The three-headed abomination called Spike landed and perched his claws upon her altar. He absolutely towered over the mistress, who stared up impassively at her living weapon of mass destruction, with the fake Necronomicon tucked under one arm. At the main head rode her most trusted minion, the Trixie from that other world, while the pair to the sides were mounted by Lavender Lace and Fuschia Blush.

"What have you three accomplished today?"

Trixie smirked and met her stare with crazed eyes. "Fucked a few dozen bitches, burned some tiny villas, the usual! Trixie has been hard at work as always for the mistress!" She and her minions presented pumpkin-shaped carriers which they overturned. Severed horns from unicorns spilled out into a thick pile, some still caked in dried blood from where they had been removed. "More raw materials for your latest creation!"

She waved the troika over to her, kissed each of them, who dreamily melted at her touch. "You have done well." The magic stored in the horns was ideal to forge wands that channeled said power; with them even pegasi, earth ponies, or even creatures from other races could potentially wield weapons of mass destruction. Of course they were quite time-consuming to create, so they were reserved for only a select number.

Factories forged muskets, pistols, and explosives for the rest to use. Those who pleased her were free to use the breeding stocks packed with spoils taken from each civilization they felled. The ones who displeased her would be transmuted into mares and passed to their former allies to be used up and spit out foals until they were completely broken.

Lastly she summoned the Four Horses of the Apocalypse before her. She'd chosen one of each pony type to represent the mythic horrors; from the corpse of this world's Twilight Sparkle she used necromancy to revive her, and transformed the alicorn into Death. Next came the most powerful earth pony she could find, Big Mac, who she turned into War. After that she chose a unicorn name Sunburst to represent Pestilence. And finally a pegasus called Lightning Dust was dubbed Famine. While some of them weren't her ideal candidates, her first choices had mostly eluded her so far.

She sent them out across Equestria to purge the opposition, to collect what mares and stallions they believed could be used, while the fodder was theirs to do with as they wished. Most of the time the foursome simply murdered their prey without a second thought. However in the case of Death and Pestilence they sometimes like to experiment upon their victims, while War and Famine took baser pleasures from them.

Below an orgy of sex and blood was underway. The cultists brought in stallions and mares to rape and murder with curved knives. They danced within a shower of blood. She'd turned Equestria into a well-oiled machine. A place of orderly disorder.