Canterlot's glorious lights, normally the centerpiece of the night, did little if anything to even distract a lone thestral mare sporting a saddlebag as she trotted through the streets with wings tucked tight at her sides. Even then, she stood out; her turquoise coat shimmered under a lantern as she passed it, and her arctic blue mane bounced softly with each step. Catlike green eyes swept the street, and tufted ears rotated, both considering the sights and sounds very carefully.
The street was barren, apart from her. The lights were on… but nopony else was there. The thestral eyed the street once more, wings twitching briefly. She sniffed the air to be sure.
Nothing. Just silence and wind answered to her.
She glanced up at the moon, a slender crescent whose light barely even touched the street she stood on. The stars, though, stayed well away from it. She spread one of her wings and lifted a hoof to prod her saddlebag with it, before delving under the flap and digging around it before feeling paper crinkling. She pulled the object out with a rustle, and studied a parchment that was rumpled but still legible.
ABSINTHE'S WINE AND BREWERY, NOW HIRING!
Meeting hours are at 9AM-11PM
Apply now for a brewmaster trainee position!
Payout is 20-45 bits weekly!
The thestral crushed the paper in her pastern, then crumpled it into a ball before returning it to her saddlebag. Her brow furrowed, and her tail lashed as her ears turned back against her head for a moment. She started muttering to herself, with fangs bared no less, "All these vast opportunities… yet nopony'll hire me…" Her ears jerked up, twitching as they caught the faint sound of clip-clopping hooves. She glanced around, even over her own withers, just to be sure.
The sound faded when she turned behind her. Silence reigned. She snorted and turned towards a lamp before trotting past it, brow still furrowed as she watched for anything that would catch her eye. Though at this hour, tumbleweeds may as well have been blowing across the concrete; Canterlot was as still and quiet as a graveyard, save for her echoing steps as she cantered along.
The wind blew past her with little more than a soft whistle, caressing the thestral's tufts as she meandered her way through the street. Her ears started to twitch in time with her steps, and her wings shivered as a chilly breeze sailed past her. Her mind was in a tizzy, but she elected to sort her thoughts out after she got home and tucked in for the night. She was unaware of the presence coming behind her as she passed a dim-lit alley, watching and waiting, walking after her slowly so as to not make a sound that would put her on edge.
The two continued on in silence, one oblivious to the other as her steps obscured theirs. She rounded a corner, and the pursuer followed, keeping to the shadows almost as though they were inseparable. The thestral found another street, though this one had flickering lights that held steady at random intervals. She frowned and paused at this anomaly. "Looks like the maintenance ponies'll have to deal with this later," she grumbled before pressing on. The figure followed her, keeping to the lights that flickered on and off to further disguise their presence.
She trotted on, still ignorant of the figure dogging her every step. She turned another corner, and passed a sign reading 'Canterlot Apartments,' a pretty thing of marble and gold that glimmered faintly in the flickering glow. Up ahead was a row of seven towers, fashioned like those at the castle but smaller, each with a small stairwell and a door at its end. The thestral spread her wings and flapped, ascending to one in in the middle before landing in front of the door. She eyed the number carefully, then nodded to herself and reached into her saddlebag with a hoof to fish out a key.
"Home sweet home," she muttered, little joy in her words as she thrust the key into the lock, turned, and went inside as soon as the door opened. She closed the door behind her, making sure to pull the key out and return it to her saddlebag, before relocking the door and throwing herself forward. At this hour, exhaustion started to settle in, and she was only barely able to trot around a coffee table settled near a couch before she collapsed upon the cushions.
She pulled out the crumpled paper again and threw it in a corner, where other such papers had already built up. It crinkled and bounced, landing on the floor in an awkward roll that set some other papers tumbling. The thestral buried her face in the armrest and gave a long groan of annyoance. "Nopony'll hire you, Amaranth…" she grumbled. "May as well quit while you're ahead…" Frustration began to build up, only to die as the exhaustion grew in strength and sank its fangs into her. Her eyes slipped shut, and her head readjusted to settle on the armrest in a more comfortable position.
She didn't hear the gentle creak of an opening window, or the sound of hooves hitting the floor. She didn't discern quiet from cloth rustling, or of paper being tampered with. She did not even feel the nightly breeze chilling the room as the figure came and gone within minutes of arrival.
Amaranth awoke to a gentle breeze tickling her snout, and a creaking singing in the air. At first, she didn't notice anything particularly amiss, instead just getting up, tossing off her saddlebag, and shambling into another room. One look around at the sink and fridge and coffee pot told her where she was, though it took her a second to register the fact. Above the counter, stationed behind a dining table, the window stood open and let another breeze come in uninvited to rustle the curtains.
Amaranth turned to the coffee pot and trotted to make herself a morning brew when another breeze from outside lightly ruffled her mane. She paused as the air stilled, then turned to the window. "Okay, I didn't leave that open last night…" She trotted to the window, spread her wings, grasped the handles and pulled it shut before drawing the curtains. Returning to the task at hoof, she trotted back to the coffee machine to get started for the day.
Then the more conscious part of her mind registered the fact that the window had been opened. Her brow furrowed, and she trotted around the kitchen, glancing to and fro to see if anything had been tampered with. Everything seemed untouched; even the curtains weren't crinkled, and the coffee pot was still dull with its time-gifted stains of endless hours on the job.
Amaranth wrinkled her snout, and trotted back to the room with the couch and coffee table. Scanning the room carefully, she found the door shut tight and her saddlebag where she'd left it. She trotted to it and flipped it open; the key was still inside, so the flap was closed. She scanned the room once more; its window and other side-tables were shut and standing proud respectively. Her attention turned to the coffee table, where a crinkled paper sat unfolded and with something scrawled onto its surface.
She picked it up with a hoof and a suffering groan, finding the same advertisement from last night now staring her in the face. Upon its bottom, though, was written "TURN OVER" in bright red ink. Amaranth flipped it, face hardening as she beheld something else entirely.
"If you're looking for a job, meet up at Canterlot's train station at 10 PM sharp next Thursday. I can guarantee you'll be hired in no time flat. Tell a brown unicorn stallion you're looking for Swift Wind. He'll give you an interview you won't want to miss out on."
Amaranth's brows drew together again, and confusion flickered in her eyes as she re-read the message just to be sure of what she was seeing. Her gut clenched a little bit, and a tiny voice in the back of her head started to call about shenanigans, though both were drowned out by the sheer enormity of what this message was proposing. It sounded enticing if she were honest, but… something about it was fishy.
The bigger question was, how did the paper get inside, and how did the message's author know she was job-hunting to start with? She set the paper down, as she had found it, before trotting back to the kitchen to get started on the coffee. Such questions could be answered later, when she had her fuel for the day.
Though, as she made the brew and sat down to drink its elixir-esque caffeine, she still found herself asking… what was the gig even for? What in Tartarus would it cost her, and how much would she make? Would she need to move, and if so, then would the gig let her scrounge up the bits for it?
And just who had taken an interest in her, enough to go through this unorthodox measure? Something about this started setting Amaranth's gut instinct off, waving all manner of red flags in front of her face as she drained her cup of joe to the last drop. She couldn't shake it off, and her stomach clenched as dread began to sink in.
As she poured herself another drink, she couldn't help but feel that something was up. Amaranth deserted the warm brew and trotted to the pile of papers, scooping one up and unfolding it as much as its crinkles would allow. She then returned to the coffee table, looking under it to find a fountain pen she hadn't noticed before. "Oh hello…" she muttered, reaching out to scoop up the pen. It was uncapped, and went easily enough into her pastern she didn't need to clutch it too firmly.
She laid the paper blank-side up on the table and scribbled onto its corner a little, to see if the pen still worked. It still dispensed some ink, but it was flaky and dry and didn't adhere that well. Satisfied it could do its job, Amaranth nodded to herself, taking into account the pen would need a refuel to function more properly. "Now, where did I leave that inkwell at…" she mused, turning to the kitchen once more.
Night fell once more as one week melted into the next, and that following Thursday she trotted on through the street with purpose. She made sure to leave her windows locked tight, and her saddlebags at home with a note on the kitchen table for any who'd stumble upon her apartment in her absence. She glanced at a clock in a shop's window as she passed it; the time read 9:45, but the hands of the miniature machine did not move at all.
She paid the clock no mind, instead looking at the road ahead of her. Once again, the streets were quiet and almost empty in Canterlot. Amaranth shook her head and muttered, "The nobles are probably having a ball, and everypony else has bundled up for the night."
Some fragment of her mind whispered, "What of the ponies who left you that strange message?" That, she didn't really have an answer for, and the few answers she could scrounge up off the top of her head sent shudders down her wings. "And what if ponies won't read your note?" That sent another chill racing up and down her spine, making bits of her coat stand on end with its passing.
She rounded a corner and trotted on, seeing the city gate coming into view. Her pace picked up, and she trotted faster towards it. When wood and marble traded out with dirt, she went faster, until she was galloping down the mountain trail that wound down a ways from Canterlot. Distantly, she heard the sharp keening whistle of a coming train, and smirked. "Looks like I'll be there fashionably early," Amaranth muttered to herself, heart racing in her chest at this new prospect.
Her wings lightly fluttered as she turned a sharp corner, rocks tumbling down the cliffside as she kicked them along her way. That tiny voice of reason was drowned out as she raced to the train station, giggling to herself as she reached the end of the trail within a half-hour. The train, lights ablazing, had parked and let some ponies disembark. Amaranth skid to a halt to watch the ponies as they left, frowning as she saw a collection of vacant-gazing ponies who only seemed to look ahead. Their coats were haggard, their manes askew, and whatever horns and wings they had were bound by rings and sleeves respectively.
She trotted to one mare and asked, "Hey, you okay?" The mare looked at her one moment, shook her head, and went on her way. Amaranth trotted to another mare to ask the same thing, but was brushed off with a shove of a bound wing before she could even get the question out. A third simply lowered her head and ears, eyes glazed as she avoided Amaranth altogether.
Okay, that was strange, though not unheard of. Amaranth waited until the troop of mares and hoofful of stallions went up the road and vanished before trotting to the train and hopping aboard. Immediately, she was greeted by a stallion with a conductor's hat. "Ticket please," he said drolly.
Amaranth wilted and mentally slapped herself. She forgot tickets! "Uh, I d—" She heard hoofsteps coming from behind and glanced behind her, where a brown unicorn stallion with a nearly black mane came up. He wore a friendly smile on his face, vibrant green eyes shining in delight. He was in a crisp three-piece suit, wrinkle-free even as he trotted.
He lit up his horn, and in a burst of green light he summoned forth two tickets. "Sorry dear conductor; I paid for this one in advance," he said, giving the conductor the tickets. Amaranth watched as the conductor took the tickets in hoof and studied them, before giving them back with a satisfied nod.
The stallion grinned as Amaranth turned to him again, jaw agape. "I see you've arrived fashionably early." He gave a bow, sweeping out one of his forelegs in a grand gesture of respect. "I don't know what Swift Wind would have done had you been any later."
"I… um…" Amaranth was stumped. This guy made sure he had an extra ticket just for her? Some part of her was touched by this generous display. "Th-thank you?" she managed.
The stallion rose with a nod. "It's quite alright; this way, please," he said, turning around to trot down the car. Amaranth, dumbfounded, could only follow after him. He opened the car's door, trotted to the next one, and went down it in short order with Amaranth close behind him. The stallion sneered to himself, but he was careful to keep it out of her sight.
The cars were empty, Amaranth noted, but then again it was pretty early into the night, and the train station was a ways away from the city proper. Perhaps the other ponies would have tucked in by now, she wagered as they passed through the second car in silence. At the third car, her self-imposed usher paused as the train let out another piercing whistle, before shaking as the wheels started up once again.
"Where are we going?" Amaranth asked. "I mean town-wise."
The stallion's ears twitched before he nodded. "Vanhoover," he replied.
Amaranth's brow furrowed. Strange, but alright. She should've thought about changing residences sooner, but…
That was when the stallion's horn flashed, and cloth materialized around her head in a burst of light, cutting off her train of thought. "Huh?!" Amaranth spread her wings and lifted her hooves, making to lift the sudden obstruction off before metal clamped on her front pasterns, and grainy rope wrapped around her wings to pin them shut.
Then her hind hooves slipped from under her, and Amaranth's chin and chest met with the carpeted floor. "What's—" She felt something clamping on her muzzle from outside the cloth, tightening until her jaws were held shut in its grip. She struggled and kicked, but yet more bindings of mysterious origin moved to restrain her with such speed she could barely process what was happening. "Mmph!" Amaranth continued to flail about, legs scrambling to escape her binds, but as more and more pinned her down it was of little use. Legs, wings, tail; it made no difference, as all were tied tight in seconds.
Even less use, when she was levitated up into the air and carted along to more parts of the train. All she could discern was the muffled clip-clopping of the stallion's hooves, and the sliding of the doors as he opened and shut them. She wiggled as much as her bindings would allow, frowning with ears pinning back as to what this meant.
It wasn't until she'd been dropped to the floor did the stallion speak. "Brought the bat pony you wanted, Swift," he said, all pretence of politeness gone. "She tried making a break for it."
Another, deeper voice chuckled. "They all do that, Chocolate. They all do that," a second, less familiar stallion replied smoothly. "Did she put up a fight?"
"Not really; had her hook, line, sinker," Chocolate answered. Amaranth heard more hoofsteps, muffled and soft, growing louder—their sources coming closer. Amaranth squealed into her jaws as she felt something tugging her tail aside. "Go easy on her; betting she's still virgin," Chocolate warned.
A gruff voice barked in laughter. Amaranth tensed, feeling something firm and fleshy prodding at her folds. She clenched on instinct, but it hadn't yet gone much further than that as hooves grasped her flanks. "But she's a bat pony! They're supposed to have the tight, poundable asses!" a third stallion replied. The hooves that grasped her rubbed at her haunches, pressing roughly in circles around her cutie mark. "Huh, this one's got a flower mark. You think she gardens or some shit?"
Chocolate laughed; Amaranth could hear his smile in his voice when he replied, "Won't matter once we're done with her!"
Amaranth yelped through her makeshift gag as the stallion behind her jerked her hips and took the plunge, the stiffened object forcibly parting her folds and edging its way inside with a roughness that stung. She screamed as a pair of hooves held her front pasterns down with such strength she could already feel the bruises forming. More hooves raced to her neck and grasped around it firmly, just enough that she seized up under the threat of strangulation.
The stallion who'd mounted her held for a moment, to make sure she was still. Besides her walls, which still clenched in vain to eject him, she hadn't moved a muscle. The few seconds it took for the silence to register stretched to an eternity, and all Amaranth could do was remain frozen on the spot. The warmth invading her, the hooves holding her, the ropes and whatever else they had bound her with…
None of it registered. Only the darkness provided by the cloth object tied upon her own head did. She couldn't even hear herself breathing, or her heart racing in her chest as her mind screamed orders at her immobile body. Then, very slowly, she felt the intruder pull back just a bit, enough to sting even without the roughness of the motion. He pushed afterwards, slowly and painfully inching his way inside until his stomach brushed up against her croup.
Amaranth whimpered, eyes screwing tightly shut as tears pricked their corners. Her body still kept itself rigid, even as her mind screamed for her to leave and never board the train again. The stallion behind her pulled again, the motion rough enough to scrape at her insides with an unholy force. "No!" she croaked, before the hooves around her neck tightened a bit. She stifled another protest in her throat as her tormentor thrust his body forward again.
"Ah-ah, you came here with your own four legs, filly," Chocolate hissed, smile still dripping from his tone as Amaranth felt the cloth around her muzzle tearing and giving way. "You brought this on yourself." The hooves on her pasterns moved away, and she tried to lash with them, only for magic to bear its weight down and render them immobile once again. She felt something fleshy prodding at her exposed snout, and the rope around her mouth loosen as her jaws were forced open. "Bottoms up!" was all the warning she got; in seconds, something tasteless but large enough to touch the back of her teeth was shoved within her mouth.
Amaranth gagged as the intruding object rubbed against the entrance to her throat. She thrashed her head, but the hooves around her neck jerked up to hold her up in place by her chin.
She moved her jaws as much as she could, trying to bite before the stallion behind her lifted a hoof and slapped her on the ass with enough force to make her let out a muffled and strangled yelp. Her head jerked back as she tried to dislodge it from the grip holding her head and mouth open, only to whimper as the pony in front began to thrust in turn. She felt scruffy fur brushing against her snout, a fleshy ring passing in and out of her lips and inner folds, and a swinging, bulging smooth object hitting her chin and teats with each thrust.
"Mmm, this one is righty-tighty," the stallion behind her muttered in approval. "I bet she'll loosen up after we're done with her." He started to thrust faster, keeping a firm grip on Amaranth's haunches for balance. "So glad we got a conductor to help us with this! This is the best!"
Amaranth heaved as the stallion in front slowed his pace just enough for her to taste something pungent and salty as it hit the back of her tongue with a few droplets. She tried to spit, but restricted as she was, she could only coax her tongue to move. The stallion before her sighed and sped up a little again, smearing that foul gunk throughout her mouth. "She's learning, colts!" Chocolate said, approval dripping from his voice as much as his smile did. The hooves on her chin loosened, only for one to part and then push itself against the back of her head. "Work that tongue out, girl!"
Another smacking on her rump had her hesitantly complying. Her tongue twitched and pulled away each time it came in contact with the object in her mouth, but it still explored what it was currently wedged between her teeth. She felt the ring again, a slender shaft, and a head slowly growing in size…
Then, only then, did everything hit her at once. If panic had taken hold before, then dread seized the wheel and steered her mind towards a grim conclusion. Somewhere in her conscious, amidst all of the madness that she was now forced to partake in, she registered faintly the earlier remark about the train conductor. She squealed again, though her dismay was again muted as the stallion in front of her kept thrusting.
One of the others, though however many were currently present being lost to her, grew impatient. "Can I have her face when you're done?" he snapped, agitation leaking through his tone as a hoof stomped onto the carpet. "Because you're hogging it!"
"Her ass's available, though. Didn't think of that, didja?" Chocolate retorted.
"Yeah, but Swift's going to town on it!" the complainer rebuffed, stomping again.
The stallion behind Amaranth paused. "Wanna doubledeck it, then?" he asked. A palpable silence fell for a few seconds.
The complainer then conceded, and Amaranth's hope dropped like fine china at what he said next, "If it gets me off, sure." The stallion pulled out, then lifted Amaranth's body before resettling under it. They were stomach to stomach, and another fleshy object—cocks cocks cocks!!! her mind screamed—lined up with the first and both prodded simultaneously. Amaranth wiggled, trying to pull her haunches away, but two pairs of hooves rushed in to hold her in place and realign her with them.
The first cock slid in again and hilted, holding for a moment. The third prodded for a moment as its owner settled across her back, then pushed its way inside, stretching her to a limit she hadn't thought possible. Amaranth screamed once more, and the stallion in front slowed his thrusting to savor it as her pain amplified twofold. It went in rougher than the first, squeezing itself into an already-tight fit that started to thrust once its owner went in as far as it could go in the cramped space.
Amaranth flailed her forelegs and tail, still screaming as tears streamed down her cheeks. This was unbearable; the sheer friction and pain and force began to dull all else. But she couldn't move much; only being subject to the whims of her tormentors. The stallion in front sped up his thrusts, grunting as he started to fuck her mouth and fuck it hard enough that audible slaps soon rang through the car and her ears.
"Keep crying, slut! It's only gonna get us all ready for round two!" Chocolate barked as the stallions behind her began to alternate their thrusts, keeping their tempo with the frontmost tormentor. Amaranth forced herself to stifle her cries again, even as the topmost stallion smacked her rear again and pulled harshly on her tail, splitting hairs with his jerky motions.
Amaranth shook her head, trying once more to pull away before the stallion on top wrapped his forelegs around her neck for extra leverage as his thrusts sped up, sending more pain shooting through her addled nerves. The second stallion grasped roughly at her head, hammering into her snout with all the force he could muster. His head flared, and Amaranth gagged and choked as he kept up his cruel ministrations.
The two alternating behind her gained in speed again, and she could feel one of them starting to leak into her, smoothing some of that roughness but none of the agony. They kept going, hammering in and out with such ferocity they almost seemed angry, going and going in almost perfect but sickening sync. Before long, all three were smacking their hips onto her in a series of dizzying pistons that further dulled her conscious mind.
The suffocation didn't last long, though that wasn't fortunate in itself as the stallion taking her mouth cried loudly as his cock began to spurt more of its awful nectar upon her tongue. Amaranth retched at the thickness of it, and the taste clouded her senses with musk as her mouth suddenly became a reservoir of a liquid she couldn't see so much as feel. Reflex kicked in; it was choke or swallow, and her body grudgingly chose the latter.
Gulp after gulp of the horrible, gooey liquid went down her throat, though not necessarily in time with the spurts that still flooded her mouth. Even through it all, the stallion kept thrusting as he emptied himself and filled her cheeks close to bursting. Some leaked out of her mouth only as he pulled out with a pop, and she gave a gargling whine as he sprayed the cloth around her head one last time. What she couldn't swallow fell onto the carpet with a pitter-patter, some of it coming back up her throat to then eject itself upon the floor.
"What the Tartarus!" a stallion shrieked as another cock lined up in front of her heaving mouth. "Bitch don't know how to swallow!"
"Looks like we'll have to change that," Chocolate grumbled, clapping his front hooves. "Rough her face up! We'll need to teach her the ins and outs of whorsedom!"
The fourth took the plunge after forcing Amaranth's head back up, and started to hammer in and out with reckless abandon. "Fuck! Her mouth is so silky!" he cried in delight.
Amaranth whined as he thrust in her mouth repeatedly, but her cries of protest were cut short when the topmost stallion tightened his grip as his pants turned heavy. He grunted and whinnied as he kept going, head flaring and stretching her further as he got closer to his release. The one below her was grunting, licking at the nape of her neck in a way that made her shudder horribly. "Such a good cocksleeve already," he muttered dreamily, unaware or perhaps uncaring that his partners were currently strangling her.
Amaranth struggled to breathe with the hooves on her neck and the cock in her mouth. Slowly, slowly, her world turned upside-down and fuzzy in what little light that could get through the cloth's hole. Her body shook, and her mind weakened as consciousness began to slip. She felt both stallions behind her starting to unload with matching shouts, and felt the grip tightening further and further.
Spun into a tizzy, all she could do was slip further and further from herself as her body spasmed, clenching ceasing altogether as it turned to conserving its fleeting strength. This spurned the pair plowing her ass more, and before long she was filled with sickly warmth that did naught but leave her chilled and ill. The stallion fucking her mouth pulled out, sensing her weakening. "Quit it Napkin, you're choking her!" he snapped angrily, stomping a hoof with a force that rang in her fading hearing with crystal clarity. "I may like my slaves, but I ain't fucking a corpse!"
Napkin loosened his grip, his hooves shaky as he let Amaranth breathe in the musky air. She sucked in a deep, watery breath riddled with coughs as her body snapped back to awareness faster than her mind did. "I guess I went overboard…" he grumbled, dislodging altogether as his cock continued to help fill her. Overflow trickled out from her nethers and down her legs, cooling and thickening and smearing itself against her coat as it sought to get away.
Amaranth could do little but sputter and wheeze as Napkin and the first stallion pulled out and let her flop to the floor, shaking with budding sobs. A few precious breaths later, she felt magic lifting her up off the floor just enough to stand on her four tied legs. Chocolate clapped his hooves, and once more his smile dripped from his voice. "Looks like you can't handle breathplay that well," he remarked. She felt a hoof patting her withers, though it wasn't consoling in the slightest. "Not many slaves can manage that. We'll train you up, don't worry your pretty little head."
The cock that was in her mouth prodded her snout again, and its owner's hooves anchored themselves on her shoulders. After a few pokes, she opened her mouth and let it slip in again with a pained, defeated whimper. "Good girl, you're learning," Chocolate said with genuine appraisal, which only made Amaranth start sobbing as her mouth went to work. She didn't clench as another stallion mounted from behind and started going to town.
Her mind resumed shutting down, processing little else. And bit by bit, thrust by thrust, she felt herself hollowing out—dying inside as she was used. The taste, the feeling, the hooves roughing her up and the cocks claiming her again and again—it mattered little, if at all.
She was tarnished and en route to Tartarus itself. Nothing could change that.
