Author's Note

I was eating some nuttella when I uploaded this, make of that what you will.

Twilight is bound to sparkle.

The air was cold, and to Sombra it felt colder than even the frigid winds of the land he had once called home. Shadows pooled in the corners of the monarch’s bedchamber and lapped at the legs of his bed. But for all the cold Sombra was not phased, the usurper of Equestria’s throne trotted over to the ornate mirror and took in his appearance.

Sodden, soaked, smoke Grey fur turned black with water, water too cold to even freeze. It dripped from his body steadily and pooled beneath the mirror, Sombra might have called on Flash to clear it up, but he knew they could not be convinced to see it. He was submerged in a phantom river of ice, but was still very warm on the inside, For now….

Sombra turned away from the world of darkness and cold beyond the glass of the mirror and made his way toward the door, he hoped to find some tedious royal duty to occupy himself with: hopefully one that did not need his presence in the throne room, that particular part of the castle held so little appeal to him now that he could not even bring himself to retrieve his crooked crown from where he had left it. The crown was a pebble fallen to the bottom of an icy lake, and to dive for it meant to risk never resurfacing.

King Sombra was at quite a loss as to what to do, and for the first time in his life he felt uncertain and insecure, he still had his throne, and he had 4 mares with his foals swelling inside them, and best of all that twisted shadow had not shown itself since he had threw its crown to the ground.

Could it really be this easy? Could the shadow that made him a king be so trivially cast away? Sombra thought not despite the advisors absence.

Those shifting, drowned shades that had filled the throne room bothered Sombra the most, was he so much more cautious and canny that he would not join them? It mattered little, Sombra knew ghosts were real now, but still he did not fear the dead, and he had not seen that these phantoms had any more power than stories of ghosts.

Perhaps if he had been so uncertain of the world before he might have probed the nature of his beliefs as they regarded the dead. Maybe if he allowed himself to believe in ghosts he might find himself believing in vengeful ones, and then he could never have slept soundly knowing all the people he had killed and wronged could still reach him.

As much as the phantom coldness clung to his coat, Sombra still had desires of flesh as strong as any stallion, it had been a week since the farm pony had escaped her fate as a broodmare, and Sombra had not fucked a mare since the disappointment of her escape. He had hoped that she would be recaptured while still in heat, but no such luck. Sombra had called off the search reluctantly, a mares estrus was unlikely to last a whole week. Sombra could not bring himself to care much, but he wondered how the country pony had Managed to elude all his guards.

Perhaps apple farmers were more stealthy than expected? Maybe she needed to sneak up on the apples, and pick them off one by one to avoid detection. Maybe she had offered up her fertile mareparts to any stallion who would hide her, hoping that he didn’t turn her over to the guards as soon as he came in cider…

Despite all the darkness and cold pouring into his life Sombra felt the day was getting better and better as the sun began to peak over the distant mountains and through the bedroom window. Sombra began to skip, and bounce down the welcoming corridor which echoed with laughter, singing all the way the first words that came to him, whether they meant anything or not.

"sun, sun, sunshine and duaghtershine, rise, rise, rise on time. Your mother was a slave, your father a king, but that doesn’t matter, lets all sing sing sing!"

Sombra cantered over to a window to take in the sight of his joyous domain, he shut his eyes and inhaled deep the soft morning sun. After a while in bliss Sombra’s lids slowly opened reveling the dark ocean of Equestria at night - it would still be several hours before the sun would rise.

Applejack’s head poked out from the dark alley and cautiously scanned the street, the guards retreating voices told her that it was safe to emerge. The orange pony dashed across the street, she had little idea of where to go, but she felt as if she needed to be doing something surreptitious. She ducked into the beer garden of a closed bar, a place well concealed from any guards trotting down the street.

She had been without shelter for a week, but finding a place to sleep had not been harder than half of her days on the farm, the beer garden would suffice. Staying warm had been even less of an issue, she now carried warmth with her: sourced from both the anger that burned in her heart, and the shapeless grey Garment. Anger was a natural and expected reaction to her current predicament, but there was something altogether less natural about the woolen Garment the she was submerged in, none the less Applejack retreated further into the abyss of fashion choices and prepared for another night of what could be charitably called sleep, if hiding under a bar table while draped in the shroud of urine could be called such.

Just as the orange mare was getting comfortable she saw it, sticking out over the edge of the table. She reached out and dragged it beneath with a cautious hoof. A newspaper, but It was to dark to read, a brief venture out of her table cave yielded the stub of a candle and a slightly damp match from one of the other tables.

There was plenty of space for her to fill her haunted circus tent of a garment with candlelight without being made visible to the outside world. The newspaper was much to Applejack’s astonishment — yesterdays issue, she was quite amazed that the “Foal Free Press” was still printing. Upon viewing the front cover Applejack’s jaw dropped open.

“What in Tarnation?” uttered the country mare, any pretense of stealth forgotten.

The front page of the newspaper displayed a picture of Applejack’s face: beneath the bold headline “Country bumpkin escapes cockslap of justice, reward offered for retrieval.” Applejack kept reading, her jaw slowly descending to the ground with every word.

She continued reading in baffled silence, ‘Applejack, Equestria’s least wanted! Royal guards search for orange Earth-pony wanted for rape’. Before she could parse what she was reading, Applejack’s eyes sidled back to the illustration. It was certainly a drawing of an orange earth-pony, that’s were the similarities ended.

Of the six piano-key teeth the artist had furnished her with, three were black, and the rest varying shades of yellow, no two pointed in the same direction. In one of her hooves was an earthenware jug bearing the label of “DownCider”, and in her other a banjo, one eye Independently pointed at each. A piece of straw hung from her lips, and several flies buzzed about her.

“Well…” muttered Applejack, “at least nopony is gon’ recognize me from this. Ah’ wonder what kinda no-good mule-lover what draw such a thing.”

Applejack glanced toward the small text in the corner of the image.

‘illustration by Private J Donut’

“ah’ should have known” conceded the orange mare. The grievous insult to country ponies everywhere was just one more reason Applejack needed to get back into Canterlot castle as soon as possible, and she knew just how she was going to do it.

Captain of the royal guard Flash Sentry was once again huffing, and puffing his way up the winding intestines of Canterlot castle to inform his King once again that one of his mares was in season and dreading what demeaning task Sombra had in mind for him this time.

Flash let out his pent up breath, before rapping gently on the door, but no reply came from the other side. Flash knocked again with a little more force before graduating to full blown hammering. Tentatively he pushed the door open and peaked inside.

Sombra’s domain was empty and cold on the inside.

Flash was both relieved and puzzled by the absentee king, but he knew that now it was the time to search. Flash Sentry searched this way and searched that way, but no room in which he peeped held a umbral unicorn king.

After searching under beds, and in cupboards for a goodly segment of the morning Flash did something almost unknown to him – he asked for help.

They eventually found King Sombra on the roof, facing north and sitting in an empty bathtub humming to himself.

Gilmore was huffing and puffing a smidgen to regain the little breath he had lost carrying flash up onto the roof, and flash was just hiphopping and bipbopping his hooves in nervousness, even if the news he carried would no doubt please the king, Flash was unsure of how to address Sombra in the current situation.

“well? What is it?” choogled the king, still staring straight ahead as he fiddled with the hot and cold taps despite the fact that the pipes that fed them were no longer attached.

Flash – glad to have avoided addressing the monarch said “Another one of your mares has come into season” it was a flat empty reply with no trace of opinion.

The king smiled a little and choogled “by process of elimination it must be the purple one, you know I had thought that I would take her in some elaborate setup – but such things no longer seem worth it, I shall just fill her womb and be done with it.”

Flash was slightly taken aback by the kings unenthusiastic candor, but was yet more curious as to what the rooftop bath was all about.

“The bath?” said Sombra, acknowledging the elephant on the roof. “I was just waiting for it to fill up.” Said the king rather vacantly.

“I Really would like to go home” stated Sombra, facing north even more resolutely despite having not moved an inch.

“but I have kingly chores to attend to - oh you two are still here...” said Sombra finally turning his head to face Flash and Gilmore.

Flash Sentry felt himself sinking in the tiled roof under the pull of gravity as he watched Sombra slowly step out of the ornate tub and stretch in the sun.

“I have tasks for you both” announced the king, “Gilburt, please tie the mare up like an unruly pig and leave her in my bed…”

Flash mentally prepared himself for a whole bag of pennies to drop.

“as for you Flash…” Flash braced for impact, “go and fetch my crown, it’s in the throne room.”

With that the king vanished in a rather unspectacular burst of magic.

The tub, free from the weight of the monarch – began its slow, trundling journey down the tiled slope of the roof. It cleared the parapet and took wing against the morning sun for a sliver of a second before plunging out of sight.

There was a tremendous crash of shattering porcelain.

Flash looked about, the griffon was gone, king Sombra had vanished, even his bathtub had fled. And flash was at a total loss as to how he was going to get down.

But miracles on miracles, the task Sombra had given him did not seem too burdensome – how hard could collecting a crown be?

“A guard’s gotta do what a guards’s gotta do.”

Applejack peeked suspiciously around the corner of the alley, the sun was high in the sky, her progress was slow, but every step she took moved her closer to the castle. Walking was easy even while staying hidden, the journey was not yard, but the destination was where the real struggle must have lied.

To applejack the past hurt, hurt more than anything in her life – none the less it was just that: the past. It held memories of anguish but like anything in life, memories were just long shadows of the past being cast ahead of her, the recent past didn’t concern her, she was not traveling that way.

Right now it was what lied ahead that made her heart race and her hooves tremble, but her friends needed her, and fear of death and violation was not going to change anything. Going forth once she saw the coast was clear Applejack slipped from the alley and inched hoof over hoof ever closer to the castle.

Getting to the foot of the castle was one thing, but gain entry was quite another, Applejack needed to prepare, the resources on hoof were limited to say the least, but she as a country mare — she would make do.

Applejack slipped her way into the narrow, forgotten alley: the very same one in which she had hid the night of her escape, and from were she had acquired the musty cloak of social invisibility. The alley was an architectural anomaly which could not really be called an “alley” just an intersection were several buildings had not quite manged to touch each other, the space was a rockpool on the beach of city living, but instead of accumulating crabs and water this place became home to seemingly everything a city dweller could toss away.

It would suffice as Applejack’s base of operations, of all the places in the world, this was the one place she was certain no pony would think to look for her. She wanted to enter the castle under cover of night. it was not too bad of a place to wait, perhaps she would even find some piece of junk that might help her.

Applejack freed herself from the Garment, and placed it reverentially on the back of a 27 legged chair which someone had left there, and set about her plan.

Gilmore swung the bound purple mare onto Sombra’s bed, he always liked handling mares In estrus, but what was enjoyable in the present was not always satisfying in long term, he could touch her all he wanted, but could not fuck her, preparing Sombra’s breeding stock always left him aroused, and he would need to go and find something else to stick his pecker in. the purple unicorn was not that attractive to him anyway, if he had been king this mare would have been dancing on the gallows while her face turned a deeper shade of purple.

The bed creaked as the mares weight was set on to it, she muffled something against her gag. She had been hogtied with her fronts hoofs together between her rear legs, leaving her in a delightful face down ass up position.

“I am sorry, did you want to say something?” choogled Gilmore. The griffon perked an ear to yet more of the purple mares muffled speech.

“what? You want to cum?” replied the griffon, “very well then.”

The purple mare’s eyes widen, and a muffled gasp slipped past her gag as Gilmore’s paw met her nether-regions. Gilmore made no effort to tease, and went straight for the mares clitoris, two dexterous digits working her sensitive nub.

Gilmore kept at until he could hear the occasional groan from the mare, all the while he kept an eye out for all the telltale signs of a mare about to climax. Just as twilight's muscles clenched and her eyes shut in preparation for an involuntary orgasm – Gilmore stopped. If he was not going to get to cum then neither was she.

“Nah” said the snowy griffon, wiping the fluids from his paw on the blanket, “But don’t worry I am sure you will have plenty of opportunities to cum when the king puts a foal into you.”

With that Gilmore padded out of the room, and made his way down the stairs. He launched himself from the first window he came to, and spread his wings in the cool air, the passage of wind across his body temporally subduing his throbbing arousal. From all all the way on high the griffon considered what he wanted, not so much his desires in life in general, but rather the shallow desires of the here and now, Gilmore liked to live for the moment and to him long term considerations on what he wanted from his life didn't matter – lifelong desire was just a mosaic made from a stream of short term desire, and he felt no reason to look beyond what he wanted right this instance, and what he craved in the present was simply what his body wanted – the wind beneath his wings, bloody flesh to devour, and a warm, wet hole to empty his balls into.

Applejack closed her eyes and thought of the goal, rather than the action at hoof, as she took the unflared tip of the guards penis in her mouth. he let out groan of pleasure as the mare’s lips slip over the tip of his organ and slid down, leaving a glistening coating of saliva as she drew her head back up.

Applejack did not mind the taste of cock, it was not something she was unfamiliar with, but it was the pony it was attached to that left a sour taste on her tongue, but she needed a way to get into the castle and this seemed like the most expedient one.

The guard had been standing on his hind legs, and he leaned further into the wall, as applejack used her lips to lure him into a state of contorted pleasure. Applejack herself would have been loathed to admin that despite the act being one of cold, calculated necessity, she enjoyed the act on some level as well.Although she could faintly taste the fluids of whatever mare this guard had last been inside – a taste she also knew to some extent as much as she knew the taste of a stallion.

She felt some shame at her own arousal, she knew that she really should not be getting excited from contact with a stallion who no doubt had done do much hurt In the name of king Sombra, but nether the less, she could feel her mareparts grow moist. The smells, the sounds, all the parts of a stallion which made her quiver, She tried to think about whatever mare this stallion had raped, tried to wield horror of it all as crowbar topry herself away from the current act. She could taste her fear, her unwanted arousal still lingering on the stallion’s cock. The musky smell of the seed he must have pumped into her unwilling sex, but it was all no use- she was a mare and this was making her feel like one.

As much as she tried to taste the terror of whatever poor mare this guard had violated – she could only taste the arousal of her sex, which just like Applejack's own growing excitement did not seem to have cared if the stallion causing it was good or evil.

The guard’s sounds of pleasure where growing more audible now. And just as the country mare thought she was about get a mouthful of cum, her head was pulled from his member.

“say something, before you make me cum” choogled the stallion.

Applejack was most taken aback by the sudden solicitation of conversation.

“eerr’ why?” Applejack managed get out.

The stallion grinned a little “You look like the kind of mare who could make a stallion cream with just your voice alone – got that whole sultry country twang thing going on.”

applejack did not know if the stallions comment made her feel complimented or insulted, but she knew that to get what she needed she would need to play along.

“and just what would ya’ like me to say” said Applejack, making sure the ham up the “country twang” she had heard so much a bout.

“ oh I don’t know..say something about my penis...like how great it is, really work the shaft – verbally speaking of course” said the guard, starting to look slightly silly.

Applejack – desperate to say something to keep the mood going, sung the first praises of the stallion’s penis that she could think of.

“yeah, your cock is pretty wizard, if I do say so myself” choogled the country mare, each word syllable slapping into the silence like a falling tombstone.

“whoops, my mistake” chirped the stallion without hesitation. “an error in judgment on my part, I guess your mouth is only useful as a splooge receptacle after all.”

Applejack was somewhat glad that her mouth no longer had to pass words, and needed do nothing more embarrassing than sucking on a dick. The stallion seem to be less exited this time despite having been ready to burst a few moments ago.

“oh even my dick doesn't want to be near your word-hole” choogled the stallion impatiently. Applejack barely had enough time to express her surprise, before the stallion’s powerful hooves had turned her about and pushed her face into the alley wall. She stopped herself at the last sencond from bucking him in the stomach, and prepared for the inevitable as she felt his hooves clamp to her flanks.

Applejack had wanted to avoid this if possible, not because the act was really any more unthinkable then giving a blowjob, but rather because allowing one of Sombra’s soldiers to do this made her feel so much more like a victim – her mouth was one thing, but allowing one of the guards to enter her one organ that served only that very purpose felt so much more violating. The action was more than just bringing a stallion to orgasm, but allowing him to complete the act that had she been in season would result in her carrying his foal.

The stallion groaned with renewed pleasure as he felt the warmth of the mare’s quivering folds slide over his penis: he knew that he would not last long; he get not really care, in the current situation. He bucked into the orange mare as fast and as hard he pleased. It did not take long before he began to feel a rising pleasure start its way from his balls to the tip of his cock. With a grunt of triumph he hilted himself inside the orange mare, the vocalization transitioning into a series of whimpering moans as pulses of ecstasy washed through his body with every spurt of jizz the he shot into the orange mare’s pussy.

The stallion withdrew his softening cock, and allowed his respiration to return to normal - he was spent, but was not so drained that he would shirk the duties of a royal guard. He trotted away from the alley and back onto his patrol route, waiting form his cock to fully retract into is sheath before heading out. He did not particular care for other stallions seeing his arousal, even if few of them thought anything of seeing stallions taking their fill of captives and citizens – it was just something he had a thing about.

The guard settled back into his familiar patrol route, with little change in pace, he was most upset that he could not find his keys perhaps he had left them In the alley?

King Sombra gently trotted across flagstone steps which felt more and more like snow with every passing minute, soon he was at his bedroom room door, and he could faintly smell the distinctive whiff estrus from behind it. The door yielded with a strangled creak as he pushed in inward with a hoof, the king entered the room silently hoping not to alert the occupant.

The purple mare was hogtied face down and rear up in an inciting fashion, Sombra trailed damp hoof-prints Across the floor, as he made his way over to the gagged mare. The smell of her heat bypassed his mind: going directly to his genitals via his nose, this was not going to bethe act of King Sombra, merely an act performed by king Sombra’s body. His mind was still wandering away from the room despite the musky smell of the mares estrus sending a rush of blood to his cock with every breath.

The bound mare made a futile effort to struggle in her bindings as Sombra moved evercloser to the bed, but all of her writhing achieved nothing, and soon the grey stallion was sitting behind her on the bed, his penis sticking out on front of him like divining rod pointing to the directed of her fate. Despite the womb before him waiting to receive his seed, Sombra‘s attention was being drawn way. Sombra looked at himself in the full length mirror – he was no king, he was an animal, an animals whose coat was matted and soaked, a beast of lust who’s pulsating organ would soon find its way into another mare’s womb whether she wanted it or not.

Sombra turned his gazed away from his own reflection, and turned his attention to the work at hoof, he saw no reason to dance around the act with foreplay and talk. Sombra loomed behind the terrified bound mare, and lined his tip up against her entrance without ceremony . The purple mare gasped and tensed up as she felt the tip of Sombra’s cock press gentle against her lower lips, but Sombra hesitated — instead of sinking into the mare’s warm depths right away, Sombra’s thoughts were drawn away – was this really the place we wanted to be in when he impregnated this mare?

A flash of octarine light filled the room briefly, and then the bed was left empty. Once the purple smoked had cleared, Sombra found himself with his mare, sitting in the remains of a building. three walls still stood, but the roof laid about the place in pieces. he could feel what was left of the charred floorboards beneath their blanket of snow, the chill was just like he remembered it – cold comfort.

This just seemed like the perfect place to fuck a lavender mare again.

Now that the mood was set the grey stallion got back to work. Twilight let out a muffled cry into her gag, as Sombra pushed his way into her – the mare was tighter than the others had been, a virgin. Sombra did not care at all if his breeding mare had been used prior so long as her womb was empty and fertile, but the mare’s innocent was a pleasant surprise all the same.

Sombra took in a breath of the cool air, and scanned the horizon: all completely at peace, the ashen charred bones of wood stuck up from the snow here and there, the flames were long gone. but the pain lingered on. The king buried himself up to the balls inside twilight’s pussy and slowly withdrew, the cold air tingled on his cock as the new coat of warmth fluids on his shaft met the cold air, but his organ was soon plunged back into the mare’s warm depths.

Sombra offered the helpless mare beneath him no consideration, only the savage rutting of an excited beast. Sombra jabbed repeatedly in and out of the mare’s increasingly wet pussy, thrusting to no rhythm other than that primal urge in his beating heart. Twilight squirmed uselessly against her bindings, and spoke yet more muffled words into the gag. To Sombra – the bound, immobile mare was nothing but an object to be acted upon, a fertile womb than had been attached to a set of reflexes and bodily functions – Warm flesh for the king’s enjoyment.

Sombra was grunting in delight as each jab into the mare's tight snatch sent a jolt of pleasure into his body. Twilight was having less of a good time, tears were pouring down her cheeks like any mare, and all the while she continued to strain against her bindings. Sombra grinned in delight as he felt her already tight pussy spasm against his cock, and her muscles ripple in pulses as she came – her gag almost suppressing her involuntary gasp of pleasure.

The cold snows around King Sombra had a been a nice background to making his mare cum, but Sombra was already yearning for a change of scenery before he gave the mare her comeuppance. Sombra tried to focus on his magic rather than the rising pleasure in his body – with a flash of light, as sudden and climatic as the mare’s orgasm, the Grey stallion and his mare were gone. The clean snow and the ashes remained, in time the patch of snow that had been disturbed by the king’s incursion was buried by the gentle breeze and drifting windblown flakes of white – as if he had never spent his days among them.

Once the smoke of residual magic had cleared Sombra looked about and found himself back in the castle. The room was not one he was personally familiar with, but he knew enough that it was the cell from which Twilight had been dragged. Cells were an interesting topic to Sombra – ovum and sperm, such little things, yet making them meet was the greatest of pleasures to him, and soon enough he would do so again. He was a stallion before he was a King – kings have the power to do as they will to anyone, and it was the biological imperative of a stallion to impregnate as many mares as he could. Of course he was going to use one to facilitate the other, and he was having a damn good time doing it.

His magical translocation had not slowed down the pace of his thrusting at all, soon he would orgasm, and then he could leave the mare in the cell she been imprisoned in, but this time around she would have something growing in her womb to remember him by. Sombra’s vigor was starting to have its effect on his body, and combined with his building pleasure his breath was becoming ragged, there was a dull ache in his humping muscles, and a sharp, burning pulsation in his veins. But most of all tightness building up in his balls, and slowly working its way slightly up his shaft with every thrust.

Twilight – or at least her body, was no less exited, Sombra could feel her push against his every thrust, her hips rocking backwards every time he thrust into her, and it seems like the noises which barely escaped her gag were more the sounds of pleasure than the sounds of terror. Perhaps making her orgasm had changed her perspective on her current situation, Sombra was not so naive to assume she had never came before just because she was a virgin, but certainly she had never been made to climax with an uncompromising stallion’s cock inside her. If the difference between bringing ones self to orgasm with a hoof and being made to climax by another was a great a divide in pleasure for a mare as for a stallion perhaps it may as well have been her first.

Whatever she was currently feeling her tears had stopped, and her eyes were rolling back as if to look at the stallion behind her, drool was visible around the edge of her ball gag. Sombra grinned and leaned forward so his head was looming over hers, he buried himself up to the hilt inside, and began a series of rapid, shallow thrusts. Sombra’s teeth clenched unto one of Twilight’s ears, the mare squirmed in delight at the soft nibbling sensation.

Engrossed my the mare's reaction Sombra briefly paused his bucking, but the sensation of twilight's hot, slick mareparts sliding up and down his shaft did not falter – the mare kept sliding her rear back and forth within the little space her bindings allowed; clearly the mare did not want him to stop. Obligingly Sombra pistoned in and out of her with a renewed vigor. Sombra had not expected his breeding stock to be so accommodating, the mare merely having an orgasm was not exceptional, In Sombra’s experience mares which a stallion forced himself upon were easier to make cum than mare’s who wanted to get fucked, perhaps their bodies confused there fear and adrenaline with a greater arousal, perhaps deep down mare’s just wanted to get bred by dominant stallions. Whichever was the case it was only their bodies that enjoyed it.

That did not seem to be the case with this mare, Sombra could hear a muffled gasp through her gag every time he poked into her warm folds – the harder he used her the more this mare seemed to squirm in pleasure. Sombra got an idea, he did not know whether it came from his head or his aching balls, but all the same he reached out with his magic and the ropes holding the mare fell away, but she seemed not to notice their absence. Another minor feat in magic and the gag disappeared, sounds escaped the mare’s lips more clearly now, but still all they conveyed was the sounds of a mare in season enjoying every moment of the savage rutting that she was receiving.

“A—A—A—AAAAAAAAAAAH! AH!” the sound of the purple mare climaxing for the second time echoed off of the walls for the cell. Sombra himself was not far behind, the sudden writhing of Twilight’s body against his, and the spasming of the muscles of her vagina were just enough to push him into climax. Sombra hilted himself into the mare’s sex, as deeply as he could, his teeth gritted in pleasure as waves of ecstasy pulsed through his body, the tip of his cock flared inside Twilight's sex, doing its job of keeping every rope of seed he emitted inside the fertile mare’s depths.

All was still for a happy moment, before Sombra withdrew his softening cock from its fleshly holiday home, Sombra rested his head atop the mare’s as they both regained their breath, Sombra exhaled through his nose, Gently blowing twilight’s mane. No words were exchanged between the two. Sombra waited until he was fairly certain the mare was asleep before he teleported away as gently as he could. It was less a sudden flash of magic, and more a slow fading away. Like death.

Sombra had not given much thought as to were he would wander in his post coital musings, he had left his mind unfocused as he had the cast the spell of translocation, His Stygian advisor had taught him that spell, and despite his seeming falling out with that creature it seem that the spell has not diminished in potency. Sombra could not have mused with any great depths on to as why or why not a spell would lose its potency – but that was the thing about magic, if the nature of magic could be explained entirely in lines and numbers like any science it would not have been called magic.

Sombra knew that magic could be understood to some extend, but he would not have compared it the other physical laws of the world, magic made up the world in some way; the world was substance and that substance was made from atoms, and those atoms out of smaller particles, the further you looked each layer of reality was made of something else and where the components became to small to see...that was where magic came from.

Sombra’s mind had not been focused on any one point in space when he had cast the spell, and had been taken wherever the magical tide had drifted, only loosely guide by thoughts too faint to hear amid the constant and ever growing din of his conscious mind. Sombra found himself standing in a dusty plain, Recently dug out excavations dotted the ground, but they had been abandoned with such haste that nopony had even taken the tools which had been used to dig them. The place was not buried in dust yet and Sombra recognized as one of his mining expedition.

This had been the place where his guard had found the crown of shadows, and It seemed to have been deserted as fast as one what expect for having held such a thing. Which Sombra closed his eyes he felt as if he could see a path of everyhere the crown had been, a thin line of silverblack string running from one of the pits, around the camp, and stretching far down the train tracks which had brought it his doorstep so many miles away.

Sombra opened his eyes and focused on the area at hoof, it was still warm here despite the fading daylight, but no sun, setting or rising could seem to dry the ice water from his fur. Sombra wandered over to the few ponies which had been left behind, there were maybe 7 of them in total, all hanging from an apple tree, some mares and some stallions – all bore the glassy eyes and purple faces of ponies who had defied him. The holes of both the stallions and mares still dripped with the semen of his guards

“Was it it worth it” choogled Sombra to a dead amber colored mare. “Did you deserve to end up there…?” Sombra looked around his little kingdom, and said to no pony in particular “no, I would not say so.”

There was nothing left for Sombra here and once again he let his magic carry him to whatever place his distant thoughts deemed appropriate.

This time he found himself in a place he did not recognize, he was back in his bedroom.

Applejack crested the parapet of the castle, and looked about to see if there were any guards about, satisfied that there were none to be seen, see reeled the homemade grappling hook back in, and concealed it inside The Garment. She had fabricated the crude climbing tool from things which she had found in the forgotten alley: a length of washing line which she had tired knots in so that the thin cord could be climbed, and for the hook she had used what appeaedr to be a miniature anchor, which was quite surprisingly – made of some king of a green, slightly translucence stone; applejack thought that it might have been jade, but could not say for sure – Rarity would have known.

The orange country mare shuffled stealthely across the ramparts looking for a way inside, She did not think that The garment would hide her so well here and so she wanted to spent as little time in the open as possible. Eventual she found a stout wooden door, it was locked and Applejack hoped against hope that the key she had degraded herself for fitted.

It fitted: the door swung inward on rusted hinges and the orange mare slipped her way back into the interior of the castle. As Applejack closed the door slowly behind her, she glanced into the courtyard a grand number of yards down. She saw that a white mare was being dragged out into the center of the yard with a great deal of resistance on her part. It was Vinyl Scratch, although applejack was no fan of the awful music she produced, Applejack did not want to hang around to see what they were going to do to her, but nevertheless some forced seemed to nail her in place, peeking out of a the tiny gap in the door over a courtyard which had seen so much terror.

Gilmore gave the white mare a sharp jab In the direction in which he had been urging her. Private Donut gave her a Rather more forceful push which left her face down on the ground, there would be no escape for this mare.

“you going first?” said the griffon glancing in the direction of the bulky form of Private Donut.

“nah, got stuff to do” choogled Private Donut “Got to work on my art, I think if have the talent for it.” with that the pasty colored stallion wandered off, leaving Gilmore alone with the pale mare. She tried to squirm away from him, but he caught a claw-full of her mane, and with his other paw on her tail, he tossed her onto a heap of barrels.

The mare – who Gilmore heard had been arrested on suspicion of being a perpetrator of dubstep music screamed and kicked as he reared up over her, but the struggles of his prey only sent more blood rushing into the Gilmore’s pecker. Gilmore grinned in delight and anticipation at vinyl’s terror as he took one of her kicking legs in each paw, wrenching them apart with ease. The mare screamed, and tears began to stream down her face as Gilmore rammed his organ eagerly into the tight hotness of her snatch. The mare’s sex was unsurprisingly dry, but Gilmore did not care in the least. It was his experience that no matter how much a mare resisted, her pussy did not stray dry for long once it had a cock thrusting into it, and sure enough thirty odd foot of grunts later the griffon could feel the mare’s tunnel begin to grow slick and loose.

Gilmore gritted his beak in pleasure, as he relentlessly Jabbed into the DJ pony’s pussy, all the while the White mare screamed and kicked with no results and less dignity.

“Hey, you need some rope for that one?” said Private Donut as he walked by holding what appeared to be an easel.

“Nah, this mare is not a swinger” commented the griffon between grunts. Perhaps the mare took the news that she would not be swinging from a rope as meaning that she would be unharmed – Gilmore knew better. The griffon could feel himself getting close. His feathers were standing up, and his claws now gripped the mare’s legs with enough force that pinpricks of blood started to leak from down her things. The smell of fresh blood whetted an appetite in the griffon other that the one which drove him to empty his balls into any female he could get his claws on.

Vinyl did not cry out as Gilmore’s vicious ministrations brought her to an unwanted orgasm, but never the less she could not hide it from the griffon. As soon as the griffon felt her Vagina pulsing against his shaft he struck. Gilmore’s beak clamped onto the mare’s throat, slicing effortlessly through flesh, Gilmore felt some slight resistance his beak made contact with her windpipe. The mare had just enough time to let out a scream before the snowy griffon tore his head backward, ripping out a beakfull of flesh and arteries, The mare’s scream Turning into a spluttering gurgle as her lungs desperately tired to push air through her ragged ruin of a throat. Blood erupted in a red fountain and her body flailed, but louder than the sound of the mare dying was the sound of Gilmore screeching in pleasure as his penis twitched and throbbed inside the mare’s cunt, pumping ropes of avian semen into into her depths as if she had been a fertile hen.

Once the waves of pleasure had subsided, Gilmore caught his breath – his front half was soaked in blood, and from his beak hung the shredded remains of the mare’s neck, The griffon swallowed, before rending another beakfull of sweet flesh from his prey’s body. Gilmore causally consumed the flesh of the mare while his cock was still inside her, This would have been a great horror to behold in the castle courtyard under Celestia, but under the new king it was just another day.

Flash Sentry, captain of the royal guard, and seemingly the first person Sombra called for when something demeaning needed doing wandered toward the throne room on his quest to return the king’s crown to him, it did not seem a hard task compared to some of the ones Sombra had thrust upon him, Flash wondered if the king had left something about it out.

Flash pushed into the heavy throne room doors with a shoulder: they seemed harder to move than he recalled, like...pushing them while underwater. Eventually they yielded and Flash was met with a rush of cold air from the waiting darkness beyond. Flash recalled that his hoofsteps would echo loudly in this room with its great emptiness and hard tiled floors, but now it seemed like the room was filled with some great mass which absorbed the sound. HE began to shiver – it really was uncharacteristically cold, his breath hung in front of him In steamy clouds., but he was thankful that he did not need to be in here long.

Flash could see Sombra’s warped crown sitting on the throne, but as he moved closer across the ceramic tundra something caught his eye — lying haphazardly on the floor was another crown, this one far plainer than Sombra’s own, little more than an unadorned metal band. As he moved closer he could almost feel the room getting closer, as if cold was a forced that could be emitted like light.

Flash held the thing in his hooves, it seemed less ominous than it had from afar, like searching a quivering bush expecting some foul beast, only to find it empty. As he examined the crown, Flash was shocked when he felt a drop of cold liquid fall onto his back, “So that is why it’s so cold” muttered Flash to himself

“I expect the king will want me to fix the leaky roof next,” Flash was quite relived to know that the source of the cold was just poor maintenance and his own active imagination. Another drop of ice crawled down flash’s flank. How bad could the roof be? it was fine the last time he was here.

Flash looked up to inspect the damage.

Flash’s eyes bulged wide and his jaw fell open – darkness and cold reached out and struck like silent lightning.

“what the fu...” flash managed to intone, which was a pretty stupid phrase with which to end a life.