A king needs heirs.

by one-big-twinkie

Rating: mature
Tags: Dark, Fetish, Porn, Sex, King Sombra, Pony Joe, Suicide / Self Harm, Horror, Profanity, Non-consensual, Griffons, Violence, Death, Narcotics, Main 6, Applejack, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 46081

King Sombra has taken his rightful throne, but a king needs heirs, and Sombra has just the mares to produce them, their cooperation is not required.

king Sombra has taken his rightful throne, he has crushed his enemies and heard the lamentation of their mares, but a king needs heirs, Sombra decides the mane six are the mares to bare them, whether they want to or not. Top it all of with an unknowable cyclopean horror from the sightless pit and you have a monarch that Equestria won't soon forget.

warning contains, struggle-snuggles :raritycry:, gore, death, estrus, impregnation, f-bombs, and a bunch of other filthy, filthy prose.
basically, this is the kind of fanfic which makes you feel like less of a person after reading it.

Published 2020-02-26 03:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2021-01-25 04:23:25 UTC

Fluttershy and Sombra hang out.

King Sombra woke in the silent still of his bedchamber, his eyes slowly opened to the pink light of a new dawn. The sun had risen all the same even without its royal custodians. Sombra let out a yawn and greeted the day — a red dawn for a land now painted in kind. Not so long ago Sombra was used to waking on the cold snows of the barren north, but already he was becoming accustomed to kingly luxury.

Back then he had thought that roaming the endless plains beneath the clear blue sky was the only true way a stallion could live and he supposed he would think so until day he died. From those cold mountains he could not rule anything but his own life; that was almost enough. as much as the title of king made him feel less free, the slaves he had made of ponykind would make his liberty shine more brightly. Liberty to do unto others as he felt.

It had been a month or so since king Sombra had finally raised his bloody flag over the highest tower of Canterlot: well not a flag as he had to decide such a thing, but the severed heads of Equestria's former rulers would do in place of a royal banner. it meant the same thing in the end anyway.

It had been easier than he had ever envisioned: all he had done was reach out with his magic and turn the crystal heart black: a dark conduit with which he could corrupt the spirits of ponies and bend them to his will. He had the advisor of course, but Sombra didn’t like to credit much of conquest to anyone other than Sombra, and certainly not to whispering shadows from the depths of the earth.

Not everypony had been so easy to corrupt, but the palace guards had been tractable enough, stallions who had been patrolling the towers of canterlot waiting for violence that would never come while under the peaceful reign of Celestia, they had bent to his will with ease, and from there he needed no more magic, no more tricks, only the brutal violence his stolen army was only too eager to inflict. every stallion had a little bit of Sombra inside: Sombra preferred that mares had a bit more of him in them.

Once the hearts of the guards were his to command the first thing he had done was let them loose on Equastria, carrying orders no more precise than "Make sure everypony knows who rules them now." None of the guards had asked him for permission to satisfy their base needs on anypony they liked - not that he would have said no. In the days following it must have became common to see groups of guards in the streets of Canterlot. Sombra doubted that many of his guard's returned from a long patrol without having shot his load into somepony.

Equestria’s former rulers: the royal princesses Celestia and Luna had been wrenched from their long-held titles, to be done with whatever Sombra saw fit. He had considered for a few moments, and had concluded that the furthest a princess could fall was to be reduced to an instrument of relief for stallions. Less than a whore, devoid of even the seedy legitimacy given by bits changing hooves: nothing more than a set of warm holes.

Three sets of stockades had been fashioned for the three princesses. Each of the royal mares had been dressed in bindings that denied her the use of both her wings and her magic – leaving her face down and her hindquarters up.

Celestia’s eyes were shut and her teeth gritted together as a Large pastry colored stallion named Donut bucked in and out of her from behind, filling the air with the less than regal sound of his penis plunging repeatedly in and out of Celestia's vagina – a wet squishing noise which followed each of the Stallion’s savage thrusts – the rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh as Donut’s hips smacked into Celestia's ass – the creaking of the crude stockade as its occupant was rocked back and forth by the stallion behind her. All together composed the sound of merciless conquest until Donut spoke.

“Serves you right bitch,” Said Donut. ”always trotting the halls – swaying that flank of yours...” continued the beige stallion as he moved closer to orgasm. “Look. But don’t let her see you looking they said...AAAAHHHHH FUCK” Donut's muscles clenched in rhythmic pulsations and his penis twitched as he came, his words being transformed into an animal groan as he emptied his balls into Celestia’s cunt: his tail twitching and his abdomen contracting with every pulse of sperm he shot into the royal mare.

Donut pulled his cock free of Celestia, his length now darkened and shiny with her fluids, the dregs of his orgasm swinging from the now flared tip of his penis. The beige stallion departed – the changing of the guards lasted mere seconds before another took his place.

The snowy white griffon was new to the royal guard, and under Celestia’s rule he had contained his nature, but under Sombra he no longer saw any reason to hold back, no any reason to show mercy to his former employer. Celestia gasped as the griffon’s claws eclipsed her twin sun cuties marks and he jabbed his tapered organ past her lower lips with a squawk of pleasure. As the griffon, who's name was Gilmore got closer to orgasm his claws gripped tighter against Celestia's flanks. drawing pinpricks of blood - his wings began to flutter and his feathers stood on end and just thirty odd foot of grunts later the griffon let out a subdued avian screech as he added ropes of species diversity to the semen in celestia's pussy.

Princess Luna's position held no more grace than that of her sister’s, but her reaction was more reserved, she barely changed her facial expression as Flash Sentry shuddered his seed into her womb and was quickly replaced by another stallion – But her expression changed to one of shock very suddenly as in his enthusiasm the next stallion buried himself into the other hole. Not that that bothered the stallion at all and soon luna’s ass dripped with semen as much as her pussy did.

Cadence: evidently the most attractive of the princess was receiving the most attention. as the princess of love the guards felt that they could use her mouth without risk of injury. The pink mare sucked like a whore on the cock in front of her even as her eyes were wide and tears dripped down her cheeks, those tears slipped from her cheeks and onto the indifferent earth of the courtyard, soon followed by another bodily fluid as the stallion that she was being forced to suck off came.

Cadence's sobs grew all the louder as her tears mixed with the semen pouring down her face. But her sobs were soon cut short by her involuntary cry of pleasure as she was made to orgasm by the stallion behind her. her body writhed and spasmed as her mare-parts contracted in time with the stallion’s thrusts, her legs bucked against the stallion inside her, but he only smiled at the token resistance. The stallion groaned almost as loudly as Cadence had as he blew his load into the crying princess's snatch.

Once every stallion who wanted them had emptied his balls into his princess of choice, Sombra had done with the princesses what he would have done with any malcontent.

Princess Celestia was torn from the stockade by the same stallions who had just raped her – and with no less brutality. her gold necklace was torn away and replaced with one of hemp, and with just a few pulls on the other end of the rope the Princess of the sun rose into the air one last time: Her sister followed her just after and once the final stallion had finished Cadence did as well.

Celestia seem to try to retain some dignity in execution like a monarch should, making no attempt to claw at the rope or kick her hooves for purchase. Nevertheless her body betrayed her as once she was no longer conscious enough to control her bodily functions the princess began to react as any common pony would while dangling from a hemp necklace. Her body shivered violently and her hooves kicked as if she was running on air. Her face went from white to purple and her tongue slipped from her mouth. Her eyes had been closed in acceptance when the noose had been tightened around her ivory neck, but now both bloodshot orbs rolled wildly beneath fluttering eyelids.

Luna had went with less poise, kicked and cursing the guards even as she was hoisted into the air. She struggled against her own weight squeezing her throat shut, her writhing causing some the guard's semen to drip from her pussy onto the planks below. Luna was lighter than her sister so it took longer for the rope to Squeeze the royal mare from active struggling to the random flailing of a body being strangled of oxygen.

Just before her consciousness left her Luna had swung her hooves onto her sister, managing to take most of the weight, just enough to let her breathe a few breaths, but this only prolonged her fate and once this ceased to amuse the guards the snowy griffon that had been second to fuck Celestia wrenched Luna’s hooves from her sister, and with his deft claws – bound the mare’s hooves together beneath her with a short length of rope, the griffon gave her a loud smack across the cutie mark before letting her dance begin again. This time the was no respite for Luna, and in her bindings all she could do was flop like a worm on a hook.

Cadence had been the most popular of the mares, and had had a stallion inside her even as the noose was tightened around her neck. A drip of semen swung from the stallion’s recently flared tip while he pulled Cadence into the air. The royal mare begged for mercy from the guards and offered her body to them in exchange for her life as if she had not already been used up most resolutly.

The princess of love was just like any mare on the rope. Her eyes frantic as the noose cut off her breathing – her chest rising and falling futilely as her tear tracked face turned blue and her eyes rolled in the back of her skull, all the while her slender body kicked and spun in the nooses creaking embrace. Her transition form active resistance to spasmodic lurching was heralded by a ripple of laughter from the guards as the last of the princess’s dignity pour down her hind legs and washed away the jizz the had leaked from her cunny.

As much as the princesses all struggled and heaved soon all three were as limp as boned fish save for the occasional twitch in a limb, and the swaying and the spinning provided by the gentle breeze. The final royal act of princess Celestia was to release the contents of her bowels onto the planks of the gallows as the last of her muscles went slack.

Sombra wondered if any of the mares had their last orgasm while on the rope - an odd notion on the snout of it, but stallions often ejaculated while wearing a hemp necklace, some odd quirk of asphyxiation perhaps? Or maybe an evolutionary adaptation designed to give a stallion one last chance to propagate his genes – like a flower spreading its seeds in the wind. The planks of a well used gibbet often smelled faintly of cum during warm weather.

The rope was Sombra’s favorite means of disposing of malcontents, that was how the enemies of his kingdom should be disposed of. They would have no dignity in death, no peaceful exit from this world, they would kick and spasm their lives away while the semen of their captors dripped to the ground beneath there final resting place. And all in sight of anypony who could be made to watch.

The black guards had not been the only ones to enjoy the captives of the new crystal empire. Not so long after his arrival Sombra’s guards had placed before him six mares who were suspected of plotting his downfall. At first Sombra wanted to do unto them what he had already done with so many resistant ponies: have them executed without ceremony, hack the bodies apart, and dispose of the remains with all care of emptying a chamber pot.

“We found them outside the castle,” said one of the guards: “farting about with a bunch of jewelry.”

Sombra looked over the frightened, beaten mares, a better use had come to his mind: “I am the king” he though aloud, “and a king needs heirs.”

Sombra had ordered that the mares be locked into the guest rooms, so he could have them as soon as they came into season. But he hadn’t needed to wait, as he made his way down from the throne’s stairs. He could smell that one of the mares — The white unicorn was already in estrus.

He sniffed the air and noticed the unmistakable scent of a mare in heat: “Speak of discord!” choogled Sombra.

He gestured to the guards: “leave the white one, but take the others to their cells, make sure they are well fed and clean, if I find out any of them have been fucked, I shall do to you what I did to Equesria's postal system.” The guards dragged all the mares away save for the white unicorn.

The pale mare scooted backwards as Sombra approached her until she was up against the fancy table which held the items the mares had been caught with.

“What were these things meant to do?” ask Sombra as he held a necklace with his magic: “did you dress up like princesses in the hope I would treat you like one, Because I don’t think that treatment is what you desire.” said Sombra in a manner conversational enough that he briefly forgot the sensation of his penis swelling between his legs.

”It matters little anyway: i Think I shall have these fancy trinkets melted down into my kingly crown – where was I again? Oh right, about to rape you, allow me to fill you in on the process.” choogled the king.

He had taken Rarity right there without any fanfare, shoving her onto her side over the table and inserting himself under her tail. the table shook each time he bucked into Rarities dripping pussy, the action forcing a few of the elements of harmony to bounced their way to the edge to the floor. Purple tears streamed down rarity’s cheeks and her cries drowned out Sombra’s own incantations of enjoyment. It wasn’t long until Sombra’s penis flared and pulsed inside the pale mare’s warm, slick folds as he shuddered ropes of seed into the white unicorn’s fertile depths.

Rarity groaned in anguish and buried face in her hooves as the last spurts Sombra’s climax squirted against her cervix - suddenly she was empty, Sombra’s organ gleamed with her estrus, and her cheeks glistened with tears, but no matter how much she cried, her womb would not care.

“You should be grateful” laughed Sombra: “you get the privilege of gestating my firstborn, what a lucky mare you are.”

“I don’t want it!” Wailed Rarity “I don’t want it!”, “I don’t want it!” “I don’t want it!” each repetition brought forth more tears, and at the last the white mare collapsed into a blubbing heap.

Sombra got the impression that she didn’t want it, but he cared not in the least, it was his choice who would carry his offspring; they would have no say in the affair.

All that had been a month ago.

In the present; Sombra lay on the luxurious bed that had once belonged to Princess Celestia. Sombra wondered what the princess had used this room for other than sleep, probably not sex: he had no doubt that in just the month in which he had occupied this room that the soft bed he now lay on had seen more debauchery than in centuries of the late Celestia’s rule.

Pressingly, Sombra considered that he should get somepony to change the sheets. Under Sombra - and whichever pony was under him at the time, the once pristine lavender sheets had become a tapestry of grey stains from where his cum had dripped out of various holes, and marks from the tears were their owners had shed them.

Sombra's drowsy morning was interrupted when the sound of a hoof tapping against wood filled the room. “Enter” said the king. “and you better have a good reason this time” he added with a touch of threat in his voice. It was always best to keep a little fear in even his most loyal servants - as so far as loyalty was part of the equation when the system involved soul stealing black magic.

The door swung open, and one of Sombra’s black guards stepped in, his helmet held under one wing.

“Well, what is it?” said Sombra, blinking the lingering sleepiness from his emerald eyes.

“It’s one of your mares your grace” said the guard, looking straight ahead.

“Which one?” said Sombra. his voice perked up at that and his tail starting to swish back and forth, Sweeping the air like a black broom. “Please tell me it’s the purple bookish one.”

“The yellow Pegasus sire, I believe her name is Fluttershy. Private Donut was bringing her the regulation gruel when he noticed the scent your grace.” said the guard, his eyes still locked straight ahead of him like a pair of azure carriage lamps.

Sombra nodded as he considered the news, then – with a venomous suspicion in his voice which held the promise of cruelty and punishment he said “He better not have touched my mare, or I will make private Donut’s private donut a good deal wider; that goes for you as well Flash.”

Sombra swept passed the statue like guard, and turned down the hall toward the guest rooms. He paused a moment as if he had just forgotten something terribly important.

“While you are over there, be a good sport and change my sheets.” Said Sombra, his voice echoed down the hall and passed the still unmoving guard.

The guard sighed, and mumbled: “A guard’s gotta do what a guard’s gotta do”.

The smoke grey monarch trotted down the hallway toward the guest rooms without even bothering to put on his royal garments, he didn’t care for fabric getting between his fur and a mare’s no matter how fine the weave. having his cutie mark visible to all was a small price to pay, but the crown had never left his head even during sleep, he needed at least something to flaunt his nobility with. even if the the newborn crown was an ugly lumpen thing. Of the six gems around its circumference no two were the same size, shape, or color. The gold band itself was crudely cast, as if by a very amateur craftspony. Sombra was no goldsmith; he had made his own kingdom and he would make his own crown, but he’d be damned to Tartarus before he made his own bed.

Sombra passed down the tunnels of noble spender on his way to see a yellow Pegasus and her tunnel of noble splendor. Treading on fine yakyakian carpets atop hard stone along the way Sombra suspected he wasn’t alone when his prancing propelled him headlong into what felt like a localized indoor cold-front. He looked around but saw nothing. None of the places his advisor liked to speak from were visible anyway, Sombra shrugged his Shoulders and moved on: nothing was going to put fetters on this lovely morning.

He didn’t need to be told which room Fluttershy was in: he could already smell her estrus from the far end of the corridor. He chanced a glance as he passed the cell which held Rarity, The door was ajar and through it he could see the pale mare, her belly was just starting to swell with the foal he had put inside her. The proof of his progeny put a little banter in his canter.

He unlocked the door to Fluttershy’s cell with his magic and slipped inside with barely a sound. The yellow mare was vainly trying to hide under the bed as if that would fool anypony. Sombra heard an intake of air as the mare held her breath for silence. Sombra causally wandered around the bed trying to give the impression that he didn’t know she was there. In one sudden movement he grabbed Fluttershy by the tail and pulled her into the light in one smooth motion. To his surprise the action elicited nothing more than a quiet 'noooo' from the tiny-voiced mare - Sombra had heard she was a timid one.

Sombra moved to mount her, but decided against such crude behavior. He had something better in mind anyway.

He gripped the chain attached to her collar hard in one hoof...somehow, and tugged for her to move, almost pulling her off her hooves: “Move” he commanded. Fluttershy’s head hung low, and her legs trembled as if she was about the collapse, but she managed to choke out “'Yes your grace.' before moving unsteadily out of the room and down the corridor.

Sombra led the newly fertile mare from behind. His nose snuffled about her hindquarters taking in her scent. The stink of her estrus was intoxicating to him; the sharp, musky odor seemed to go straight from his nose to between his legs. Every time his lungs expanded with the air his organ of generation expanded with blood. He could feel a throb in his penis with every flutter of his accelerating heart.

Sombra’s cock stood fully erect: a coal grey pole crossed with veins of dark blood which pulsated slightly as he nipped at the mares behind, a small bead of white formed on the tip of his yogurt hose. Sombra recalled the first time he had been this close to a mare in heat: he hadn’t spent his load into the empty air before he had even touched her like many stallions did, but he had been overeager, and when he had mounted her his penis failed to enter her vagina, instead rubbing across her tight flank causing Sombra to cum over her rump almost instantly. That was not going to happen with this mare, he would take his time here.

Sombra marched Fluttershy ever onward until they both ill-met a corner by lamplight and came face to face with a heavy wooden door. At the end of the red ochre corridor Fluttershy’s stopped suddenly causing him to butt his head into her rear. his forelegs lifted off of the ground for a moment as the reflex to mount her told hold of him for a split second.

What lay beyond this door was not just any room, it was a room Sombra had placed the greatest of gusto in re-purposing the room to fits his needs. He had escorted many prisoners here, but only he had trotted out again. The room was formally a glass roofed arboretum with many skylights for the birds and bees to come and go via. It now served as an execution chamber, a charnel house where the bodies of ponies were hanged from ropes to dance the last of their lives away as piss streamed down their legs and their innocent faces turned purple.

The new crystal empire had no shortage of malcontents which needed to be bloodily smote and thusly the room saw plenty of use. Sombra had spent many delightful hours in this room, sometimes just watching the ponies dance – sometimes helping them dance.

The last pony that Sombra had escorted into the party room had been a handsome country colt by the name of Breaburn. He had been a such an appealing young fellow that stallions in Sombra's employ that had no carnal interest in anything other than mares were lining up three-deep to use his asshole as a cunt. Sombra on the other hoof would not have his subjects see him put his cock inside another stallion. He had fucked him in the privacy of his room instead.

Some primal imperative coursed in Sombra’s veins as he unlocked the door with his magic and pushed his breeding mare into the waiting gloom beyond.

Fluttershy screamed loudly in horror as she saw what was waiting just beyond the door. Inside was a row of a least a dozen ponies hanging from ropes. Her blood ran cold and hot at the same time, her knees buckled as she looked on the purple - bloated faces of her captor’s least fortunate victims. The closest pony to her was one she recognized: a white stallion named Double Diamond. He Clearly hadn’t been hanging for very, his eyes still fluttered as they rolled into the back of his skull, and his limbs still twitched occasionally; the last orgasm Double Diamond would ever have was still dripping to the stone floor in a thick white rope.

Fluttershy suppressed a gag as she viewed the other ponies on display; her heart fell down to her stomach as she thought of what she would tell Applejack. both Big Macintosh and Braeburn were there. Braeburn had been dead a short while, his limbs stuck out rigidly from his body, and his bloated tongue lolled from the side of his mouth. The ravens had made a meal out of his eyes, as his empty, ragged sockets stared endlessly at nothing. His penis jutted out between his legs like a flared tree branch A string of dried semen was still visible on the tip of his cock, but far more could be seen in and about his ass and splatted sloppily about his thighs and hindquarters.

Big Macintosh had been left to ripen for longer, his face and lower legs were black and hard where his congealed blood had pooled, but elsewhere on his body his vivid red coat was still visible. Through the haze of her maddening fear and the animal desire that burnt under her tail. Fluttershy thought he looked like a big red apple, slowing ripening on the vine, an unbucked overripe fruit which was now filled of maggots.

She began to back away from the horror, but she felt her rear back up into Sombra - in her fear she had forgotten he was even present. The big stallion chuckled at her terror, and gave her a sharp push onward with his forehoof.

Sombra kept pushing her forward until she was forced into a chest high table, when he could push her no further Sombra used his magic to lift her front end effortlessly onto the table so that her chest and forelegs were lying on the stained wooden surface. Sombra knew that there could be no doubt in her mind now about what he was going to do with her, and he loved every drop of her terror. Sombra positioned himself behind the yellow mare and heaved himself over the table so that his hooves where at either side of her downcast head.

Fluttershy could feel the heavy weight of the dark stallion just barely pressing on her, she could feel the strength in his body, and the warm touch of his course coat against her fine one. A black resignation filled her body as she now knew that there was no escape from the cruelly strong stallion. She would not admit even to herself that the presence of the burly monarch was having other effects on her. The primal dominance of the king: the scent of his lust focused on her and her alone - it was making her weak for reasons other than fear. Fluttershy tried to convince herself unsuccessfully that it was just her heat making her feel these things.

The custard colored mare recoiled as the stallion above her rested his head gently on top of hers so that his chin was just visible to her.

“You know…” Sombra choogled casually, “you could enjoy this. I can smell how I make your cunny runny.” As if to demonstrated that she could hide nothing from her king, Sombra tilted his hips ever so slightly so she could feel the shaft of his royal scepter touch her underbelly. she could not help herself, a small gasp of what might have been arousal, or might have been horror slipped out between her trebling lips.

‘That’s a good mare” whispered Sombra, his hot breath carrying his voice directly into her ear. Fluttershy looked ahead, focused her eyes on the corpse of big Macintosh - her friend - her friend that Sombra had brutally killed, she looked into his unseeing eyes and summoned up what little strength she could, and resolved not to cry. She felt Sombra clamp his teeth gently on her ear, and suck just a little, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure down her spine and and contributed to the making her hot under the tail.

“Well My Little Pony™, what do you think of that?’ said Sombra, freeing his lips from her ear. Fluttershy tried to stand up to his voice, but the little strength she had mustered crumbled away as Sombra backed up slightly and allowed the tip for his penis to make contact with the plump lips of her entrance. Duel frissons of both fear and pleasure emanated from the insidious nuzzling of Sombra’s organ gently probing her entrance. In the end all she could do was let out a weak: “No.” in what felt like the smallest voice she had ever used.

Sombra scoffed and said: ”Your loss, I don’t need your consent, I only need your reproductive organs."

Sombra’s muscles clenched and he reared up on his forelegs slightly, Fluttershy tensed up and let out a small whimper, as she had expected him to shove himself inside her, but Sombra hesitated. He scanned the grim abattoir before him, his dark eyes moving along the rows of ripening corpses and the occasional guard roaming between them. He was looking for something to make the mare under him know his power and cruelty as he put a foal in her. Eventual his eyes came to rest on the far end of the room where one of his guards was balls deep inside a blue maned white stallion. Sombra choogled for the guards to move the stallion closed to him, his voiced echoing around in the room, causing Fluttershy to shrink in fear.

“Hey you guys down there, mind bringing that stallion over to your king?”.

The guard that was behind the stallion pulled out immediately upon being prodded by his compatriots who were not too engrossed in pleasure to hear the sound of his masters voice. The guard's thick member swung between his legs as he and the other guards dragged the white stallion over to Sombra, the prisoner's unshod hooves scraping two white lines down the floor as he was pulled in front of the king and his conquest. “What do you want us to do with him your grace?” said the stallion who had been pounding the prisoner.

“Just string him up here so my mare can watch him dance, feel free to finish first, but be quick about it Quartz.”

“Yes your grace” said the guard. Quartz pushed the white stallion's head down and shoved himself back into his ass without ceremony. The white stallion grunted sharply and gritted his teeth as the guard entered him, the prisoners cock was fully erect from the battering the guard had been giving his prostate, aroused against his will just as Fluttershy was.

Sombra watched in delight as the stallion who he now remembered was called Shining Armor was brutally raped. Shining grunted between clenched teeth with each of Quartz's thrusts. Fluttershy cringed away and tried to hide her face.

Either the guard was nearly done when he was first interrupted, or he didn’t want to try his masters patience, because it didn’t take more than a dozen thrusts for him to finish. Quartz's face contorted in pleasure and he let out a carnal moan of bliss as the muscles in his legs and abdomen clenched in time with the ropes he shot into the prisoners ass. The guard stood still for a brief moment to wait for his world to stop spinning before pulling out of the white stallion as quickly as he had entered him Quartz gave Shining Armor a slap across the flank with his softening cock as parting gesture, dragging a string of errant semen across the face of his shield cutie mark.

“Fluttershy...” Shining said, as if only just noticing her. “it’s going to be al...”, the white stallions words were cut short as the other end of noose that was around his neck has given a sharp yank by one of the guards, lifting his forelegs off the ground and leaving just his rear hooves on the ground. the guard keeping pulling, each tug lifting Shining further up and forcing more of his weight unto his princely neck. A few more pulls and his hooves left the ground. Shining Armor had begun his last dance.

Sombra chuckled with amusement at both the struggling stallion, and the fixed stare of terror on Fluttershy’s face as she was made to watch. As the white stallion desperately swung himself to-and-fro as if his flailing hooves would find purchase on the empty air. Sombra decided the time for teasing his mare was over.

Sombra lined the tip of his organ up the mares sopping cunny. In one slow -smooth motion, buried himself up the hilt in her warm, quivering folds, his eyes closed and his mouth hung agape as he savored every moment of his length sliding slowly into the mare’s fertile young pussy. the sensation of his cock being enveloped by her warm - tight tunnel of dripping flesh filling him from his hooves to his horn. The yellow mare gasped and clenched her eyes shut as her legs kicked almost as much as Shining's did in an effort to keep him out, but Sombra didn’t care, once every inch of his penis was inside her and his balls pressed against her plumb labia, he slowly withdrew before shoving himself back inside with a wet slap as his sack smacked into Fluttershy’s clitoris, interrupting her cries of distress with sudden gasp of unwelcome pleasure. Each sharp buck of his hips brought with it more force and speed. Sombra’s thoughts were lost in a cloud of ecstasy as he bred the custard horse with savage vigor.

This was conquest, this was living, eliminating another stallion, and putting your own foals into his mares; paying nothing more for the privilege the effort needed to take what was yours.

Flutttershy tried to look away from the white stallion in front of her, but every time she averted her runny eyes from the horror she was forced to focus on the sensation of Sombra rutting her, his powerful thrusts pushing and pulling an intense focal point of unwanted pleasure all the way from her tender entrance into the her tight depths. Just to avoid the shame of acknowledge that her body was enjoying this her eyes were forced to keep focusing the white stallion instead.

Shining Armor was no longer swinging with any conscious effort to prolong his life in mind, but rather started to kick wildly and randomly as his consciousness was squeezed from him by the noose. Fluttershy watched transfixed as shining’s cock began fill with blood again with every useless rise and fall of the his chest. she tried to block out of the feeling of Sombra inside of her, but she may as well have been trying to hold back the sea, every time Sombra’s member plowed inside her a jolt of shameful ecstasy racked her body. She tried to hide it from him, but every so often an involuntary gasp of enjoyment would break through her tearful sobs. She knew what was coming; she tried everything she could to stop it - she thought of the dying stallion in front of her, hoping to drown her unwelcome pleasure in revulsion, she thought about her friends being defiled like her, anything to not give Sombra the satisfaction, but there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Fluttershy had never risked being fucked while in heat before. The sensation of Sombra’s thick organ relentlessness plunging deep inside her was fueling a growing fire under her tail which all her despair and disgust could not extinguish. Just a few savage thrusts later Fluttershy was engulfed by her inevitable climax. her body heaved and legs thrashed as pulsing waves of pleasure emanated from her genitals and crashed over every inch of her body, an overwhelming crescendo of ecstasy which made lights flash in front of her gushing eyes, and overwhelmed even her thoughts of the horrors around her: in that moment all of Fluttershy's being was nothing but pure sex. The shy mare screamed louder than she had ever before as the most powerful orgasm of her life grew and then faded, and as it disappeared the world around poured back into the void it had left, all the more profoundly terrible for the comparison. Her terror and revulsion now blackened even further with the shame of having forgotten them in pleasure.

Sombra didn’t need to say anything to make it worse, she knew would her body had done, and that was enough.

Sombra kept pistoning into his mare without a care in the world, too absorbed in his pleasure to pay hers much attention. He took in all the sounds around him, the grinding of the table as his thrusts pushed it ever further forward ‘Grond, Grond, Grond’. The creaking of the rope which held the white stallion in the air. The wet smacking of his testicles against Fluttershy’s lower lips every time he shoved his sword into her scabbard. Sombra's eyes were closed as he savored the pleasure which pulsed throughout his member with every jab, but he opened again them to enjoy the spectacle dangling in front of him.

Shining Armor’s body convulsed and spasmed at random, his conscious struggle long since strangled out of him. His tongue hung out of the side of his mouth as drool poured down his chin. His eyelids fluttering over bloodshot, unseeing orbs which were rolling into the back of his head, while his jaw moved faintly up and down as if to frame silent words. Shining’s engorged member wobbled around with every involuntary sway of his dying body.

Sombra grinned as the white stallion’s organ throbbed and pulsed before him, a few moments later, a sudden a wave of tense convulsions rippled across Shining’s muscular body. shining's penis flared as he emptied his balls into a womb which wasn’t there. A half dozen spurts of thick semen pumped into the air, each one accompanied by a sudden spasm of shining’s legs and abdomen. The remains of the stallion’s struggle seeming to leave him as the last of his seed dripped to the floor. there would be no more wild trashing from shining, just the occasional jerk in one of his extremities, or a small twitch is his darkening face.

Sombra took great pleasure in Shining’s demise, the prince of the crystal empire was dead, he had died without dignity for Sombra’s amusement, died without having fathered any foals, his royal heirs had dripped to the floor of his execution chamber: viscous cords of princes and princesses, each never to sit a throne or wear a crown. All that Shining Armor’s progeny would do is dry up on the barren flagstones beneath his corpse. Sombra's seed was being sown in fertile soil – the only thing Shining Armor would ever fertilize now was the ground.

Sombra saw no reason to daily his pleasure now that the show was over. He increased his pace, bucking his hips wildly and without rhythm, his eyes shut in pleasure and his teeth gritted as felt the pressure boiling in his loins. With his increased pace, Fluttershy’s tiny, subdued weeping grew into heaving sobs.

Sombra ground his teeth as his penis flared inside his breeding mare, a lightning bolt of pleasure shooting up his spine with every spurt of his orgasm. He pushed himself as deeply into the mare as he could: a warmth spreading as his seed thumped against Fluttershy’s cervix in pulses and into the empty womb beyond.

Sombra’s climax faded, the pleasure receding, but leaving satisfaction in its wake, he stayed inside Fluttershy until his cock went soft, so not a drop of seed was wasted. He dismounted the yellow mare, his penis flopping between his legs, still glistened with her juices.

Fluttershy barely seemd to notice that he had stopped, she just kept weeping like she had been, Sombra didn’t care, he knew that regardless of her tears her womb cared not for anything but having a dominant stallion put a foal in it. Soon the mare’s belly would start to swell with a Little Sombra, and Fluttershy would have no say in the matter.

Sombra trotted out of the room, leaving the Pegasus to weep among the corpses. As he went he thought to himself; “still four more waiting to bare my heirs.” The gray stallion passed a guard on his way, whom he instructed should take Fluttershy back to her chambers.

“Gilmore, there is a mare in the hanging gardens, please bring her back to her room, make sure anything sharp is kept out of hoof, I don’t want a repeat of that incident with the other one”.

There was a little bounce in Sombra's trot, as the satisfaction of job well done filled him. he decided to make a detour - arriving at a sunlit balcony, he looked over his domain and let the sweet air of his kingdom fill his lungs, the air carried the scent of conquest, blood, death, and sex, atop a green scent of grass and dew. It felt good to be the king.

The sun warmed Sombra's face and cast a long shadow behind him. one part of the shadow was darker than any other on Equestria.

The shadow spoke with a voice like the grinding of vast stones and suddenly Sombra was not quite as carefree.

Author's Note

you read it, you can't un-read it.

Ain't no party like a Pinkie pie party.

King Sombra reclined upon his throne, a smoke grey beast had claimed dominion over all the lands which could be seen from the highest tower of Canterlot. Sombra’s eyes were closed in what an awed supplicant might have mistaken for wise contemplation, but in fact was mere daydreaming, little more than vague notions of what he could do today; WHO he could do today, although perhaps in his royal prestige “whom” would have been more appropriate.

Save for the slow rhythm of his breathing Sombra looking still and sturdy enough that he could have been hewed from the same rock of which his throne was carved, but the stillness did not linger like the lifespan of stone and mountains, as soon one of Sombra’s guards entered the throne room, his hooves birthing echoes within the vast room with every step he took closer to his king.

Sombra pretended not to notice, remaining in gnomic contemplation of the condition of the castle toilet facilities, while admittedly most of the castles previous servants now hung rotting from nooses, or impaled on stakes; that was no excuse in Sombra’s eyes to let the shitter get so bad: if the stench could wake the dead why they not risen to do something about it?.

“Your grace.” said the guard, removing his plumed helmet and holding it beneath his wing in order to address his king.

“What is it now?” Intoned Sombra, perturbed by the interruption to his toilet meditation.

“Another one of your guest mares is ready for you now your grace.” Announced the guard.

Sombra perked up and bit at the revelation that another one of his captives had come into season: having already put foals into the bellies of two of them.

“Which one?” Sombra asked as he dismounted the throne in anticipation of mounting something else.

“The pink annoying one” Said the guard, still looking straight ahead.

“Delightful” said sombra as he glided past the guard, his large hooves surprisingly silent on the hard tile floor. “be sure to have someone bring her before my throne while on your way, I want her here in say – 40 minutes, I have got preparations to make, a party to plan, griffons to invite”.

“Your highness” Said the guard, a slight tone of wobbly dread entering his voice “what do you mean by ‘while on my way?’”.

“While you are on the way to clean the toilets, they are a disgrace” Choogled Sombra over his shoulder as he trotted away.

The guard sighed in resignation and spoke under his breath.

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

The kitchens were one of the few castle facilities to have survived Sombra’s takeover almost intact, few of its staff had been killed as the new monarch appreciated a well-executed dinner as much as he enjoyed a badly executed kitchen servant. This evening, the kitchen staff were only preforming light duties as no major events were happening, but their casual demeanor was blasted into tiny nubbins when Sombra materialized in the kitchen unannounced, his dread presence heralded by an explosion of purple magic, and a big cloud of clinging vapors.

“Greetings my worthless playthings.” Roared Sombra “your king has arrived, and he demands tribute in innocent blood!”, roared Sombra from within an electric nimbus of incadesant magical fury.

The head chef was the first the muster the courage to speak to his king “An excellent choice your grace, which vintage would you prefer” Said the chef, completely unshaken as he presented his wrists and a selection of sharp objects to his king.

“I did not mean it literally” Explained Sombra, slightly taken aback by the calm yet foppish demeanor of the unicorn chef.

“Then what dish did you come to the kitchen to be furnished with your grace? Said the chef.

“Cake” said Sombra “but I want you to add a special ingredient.” Sombra produced a small smoked glass vile and hoofed it to the chef.

“Zecora’s magic dewdrops” Said the chef as he scanned the label, “A fine addition to any royal confection I am sure.”

With that Sombra vanished In a poof of dark magic as swiftly as he had appeared, leaving the chef and his underlings to perform black of works of evil in his name, if anything as scrumptious as cake could be called so.

The shadows peered out over the courtyard from the dark depths of an overturned pail on the high ramparts, the shadows scanned the death and defilement happening in the grassy quad below.

Near the gate - a burly guard pushed a young caramel colored stallion over a pile of fresh bodies, and shoved savagely shoved himself into his ass: pumping relentlessly while tears streamed down the young stallions’ cheeks. The thorough battering the guard was giving to the young stallions prostate soon had his member fully swollen and wobbling between his legs, just a few strokes from The guard later; the contents of his balls were emptied onto the flank of a dead pony whose neck was still gripped by a cut off noose. The guard groaned as he secured a fresh hemp necklace about the stallions neck, Thirty odd foot of grunts later the Guards muscles tightened and so did the noose as the guard pumped jh hot jets of liquid silk into the caramel captives ass.

and standing on the wooden frame of the newly erected gallows, a griffon clad in the armor of Sombra’s black guard.

Gilmore the griffon was having a good time, he had been assigned to dispose of ponies in the name of the king, a privileged position indeed. the wooden structure he now served as steward of was the very same gibbet which princess Celestia had swung from once the guards where done with her, Gilmore still remembered his claws clenching hard against her cutie marks as he pumped his seed into her royal cunt , he had spent barely 2 weeks in Equestria at that point: just a lowly griffon seeking someone else’s fortune in a foreign land; then he had been recruited into the new royal guard, and within just a handful of days of service he had fucked a princess, truly this was the land of opportunity.

The gibbet had been named in honor of its most famous guest, it was called the “grand galloping gallows” an from its crossbeam hung a twitching unicorn mare, her tear tracked face turning purple and her cunny dripping with griffon jizz. She had been Heavily pregnant when captured, but King Sombra had little use for mares who had been knocked up before his conquest. The mares special somepony: the father of her unborn foal, had been strung up a few hours before, his cold, stiff body now swayed lazily in the breeze alongside his wife, his engorged member still jutting forward from between his legs, his hindquarters dripping in the sperm of the stallions who had enjoyed him before his dismal execution.

Gilmore was up to his eyes in the mares abdomen, his curved beak tearing into the stretched flesh of her belly as he sought the tender foal once protected by its mothers womb, each shearing closure of Gilmore’s beak sent a gush of blood down his face and chest plumage as he fed on his prey: his amethyst eyes lit up as he reached the sweetest meat any griffon could harvest: Gilmore could feel the little guy kicking as each beak-full of foal veal slid down his eager throat.

As Gilmore was licking the delicious blood from his beak, he was startled by a flash of magic from behind him, he spun around expecting to face his master, whom had taken to teleporting everywhere, but where Gilmore had expected to see a large grey stallion clad in silken raiment emerging from the cloud of smoke there was nothing but a small rectangle of gilded cardboard, it hovered in the air for a moment before fluttering toward the ground, Gilmore’s bloodsoaked paw shot out and caught the little object.

Gilmore turned the card over and saw the fine cursive hoofwriting on the other side.

“Greetings royal guard, you are cordially invited to attend a foal shower in the throne room 45 minutes hence, be sure to bring that other griffon so your king has something to keep his cock wet while the guests are introducing themselves to the mare of honor.”

Gilmore squinted hard at the invite to see if it held any more secrets; it turned out that it did, in small silver text that read.

“Ain’t no party like a Pinkie Pie party.”

Pinkie Pie laid in her cell which had been a guest room before Sombra’s takeover, the cell was well furnished, but still a prison all the same. Pinkie would spent hours pacing the room waiting for something to happen, anything to happen, sometimes guards would bring her food: she had expected the guards to give her gruel, or slop, or anything less than 50 percent sugar by volume really, but they had in fact been keeping her well fed, even if they all they brought her was bland and mushy stuff.

Pinkie thought that perhaps the nutrition she was receiving was not such a blessing, had she been starved she would not have gone into heat, and thusly would not have been so restless, the food was as tasteless as one of rarity’s dresses anyway: what would she have not given for a big, juicy slice of cake right now.

A soft sound of metal sliding across metal filled Pinkies cell, in the meal slot of her door was a big juicy slice of cake.

It tasted funny.

Sombra sat upon his throne and viewed the festivities around him, several tables had been set up with party food and drinks, festive bunting hung from the ceiling, and balloons floated at the end of strings like marefia informants trying on concrete shoes at the bottom of a lake. guests stood around waiting for Pinkie to arrive at her preemptive baby shower, each guest stallion had been supplied with a condom so that Sombra’s breeding mare would not be despoiled by any other stallions seed.

By Sombra’s side stood a female griffon, willing to please her master in whatever way he saw fit. The griffons had been easy for Sombra to bring into his service, he had tried to use his dark magic to warp their minds as he had with the stallions of his royal guard, but the magic did not seem to hold much influence over creatures other that ponies, in the end he had brought the griffons into his service by simple waving a purse of shiny bits in front of them, no magic in this or any other land held as much sway over a griffon as a fat wallet. As for the rape and violence his troops would inflict, griffons where just like that anyway as far as Sombra could see.

The doors at the far end of the hall slowly creaked open and two stallions led the mare of honor to her party: both of the stallions were fully erect from their proximity to the young mare in heat, they would not need too wait long for a chance to satisfy their lust.

Pinkie had been dressed to Sombra’s instruction for her party, a pretty pink bow rested in her poufy mane, the collar around her neck held a sapphire: blue like the sky of Sombra’s kingdom, and her legs where each covered by long silken socks decorated in pink and white stripes, the tight fitting garments reached just the bottom of her cutie marks, long enough to define her plot from her legs, but not long enough to impede anyone from accessing her genitals.

Pinkie’s mind was filling with purple clouds and the sound of party streamers as she approached her party, her whole world was filled with revelry which seemed to emanate from nowhere in particular, she marveled at all the guests come to see her, the tables filled with food, even that griffon that Rainbow knew had been invited. This was going to be the party of all parties, if only she had known what they were celebrating or where she was the day might have been complete already: everything just felt so fluffy and vague to Pinkie, she hoped the party would have silly sting. Little did Pinkie know she might be leaving the party covered in even sillier string.

King Sombra grinned and reclined back into his throne with his legs spread, allowing the whole room to see how excited he was, not that anybody was focusing on him of course: not now that the party favor had arrived. The cake Sombra had given her seemed to be working, she had no idea what was really going on: she looked higher than a mountain wearing a top hat.

“Let the party begin” said Sombra, setting off a single party popper like a starting pistol, at his signal private Donut (the stallion who had been nearest to Pinkie) wasted no time in mounting her, Pinkie let out a sudden gasp as the beige stallion bent her over the trestle table and slid his throbbing member into her hot, dripping folds. Donut’s latex coated organ slid into the pink pony’s pink pussy as easily as with any other captives slit, but Pinkie did not resist in her present state: her meat-sleeve welcomed its new occupant eagerly.

Sombra watched as the pink mare was railed from behind by the large stallion, The doped mare began to moan as private Donut got into his stride, but her pleasure noise was soon muffled as another stallion decided to make use of her mouth, her lips parted to let his cock into her mouth as soon it pressed against her plump lips, seconds later Pinkie was sucking him like a 5 bit streetwalker without even asking what was going on.

Pinkie did not know exactly what kind of party this was, but it was a good one, she would not have normally let party guests treat like this so openly, but this party was different, everypony just seem to be going along with it; it seemed as if some force from within loosened her inhibitions and made even the wildest of party icebreakers seem normal, although Pinkie had never before got a party started by being rutted by the guests, It seemed as if it had been the right move, every eye in the party was on her: they had even formed a queue to greet her.

Pinkie sucked and slurped on the dick in her mouth as stallion behind pistoned in and out of her slit, every second which went by brought with it a buildup of pleasure within her mare parts, but the stallion behind had not been making any attempt to daily his orgasm, with a final sharp thrust he hilted himself inside her, his balls hitting her plot with a resounding wet slap as he came, grunting with every wave of his orgasm as he filled his party balloon. The stallion withdrew from her, cock glistening with her juices and a latex bag filled with his semen swinging from the tip of his organ.

Pinkie did not remain empty for long, no sooner had private Donut dismounted her than another stallion took his place, plunging himself into her as quickly as Donut withdrew, the new guard let out a gasp of pleasure as his member sank into the mares unresisting pussy, Pinkie now knew the stallions where not here to be gentle lovers who concerned themselves about her pleasure, she was nothing but a set of warm holes to them, and she felt oddly fine with this arrangement: after all, was she not making ponies smile, smile, smile?

Pinkie worked the cock in her mouth, her slick tongue massaged the most sensitive point of the head every time the hoof that was pushing her head up and down caused it to pass within reach of the agile organ, all the while her lips slid up and down the stallion’s shaft, creating the seal Pinkie need to suck. Every time Pinkie slurped Inward the stallion groaned and his whole body quivered like his soul was being sucked out though his cock.

With one last bob of Pinkies head the stallion was sucked over the sex precipice, the first few ropes he shot poured into Pinkies mouth as he let out a most unstoic cry of ecstasy, in the throes of ejaculation his member came free from pinkies mouth, the last spurts of his climax landing across pinkies face and snout. After his world stopped spinning the stallion wandered away on wobbling legs to make space for another, soon another cock pointed expectantly at her face, but before she had even tasted it she was interrupted by the sudden impact of her own orgasm. Pinkie shouted in wordless animal pleasure, every muscle in her rear half contracted in waves of hot pink ecstasy, as her vagina contracted and pulsed the stallion that had made her cum was brought to his own peak, Pinkie felt his penis twitch as his testicles ejected their sticky product down the ledge of his shaft and out of his flaring tip, a warmth expanded in pulses as the stallions seed flooded the thin latex barrier between him and her fertile depths.

And so, Pinkies party proceeded, many stallions came and went, and the party mare was the center of it all, loving every minute she served as the pink filling in a stallion sandwich.

Sombra viewed his guards taking turns with the mare, their semen being wasted filling a rubber instead of a womb, or being spurted into pinkies mouth and face, as a few stallions had, Sombra decided that the time was right for his own meat to get some attention.

“Gilda, come hither” said Sombra commandingly.

“how may I service you your grace?” said the griffon hen sultrily.”

“anatomy lesson” said Sombra causally “I want to know how a griffon’s throat works.”

Gilda did not say anything, but she spoke well enough with her actions: grasping the base of Sombra’s genitals and slowly sinking her beak over his shaft. Sombra let out a small moan as the griffon’s throat engulfed his penis from tip the balls. In truth Sombra had no firm expectation of what a beak-job should feel like, for certain he had not expected it to be this Pleasant, Gilda’s beak could not create the seal around his member needed to suck, but the griffons throat muscles: designed to swallow small prey whole - where picking up the slack, her whole throat seeming to ripple tightly up and down his cock In a way that a ponies mouth could never do.

Sombra felt himself coming dangerously close to climax a few times, only for the griffon to slow or stop when he came near, Sombra assumed that Gilda was a massive slut who knew exactly when a stallion was going to cum from experience, but he was glad for the knowledge the he did not need to stop himself from Climaxing, the slutty bird had that under control.

Gilmore let out a low squawk as the warmth of the mares vagina enveloped him as he pushed his way into her sopping pink folds, he had not been compelled to wear a condom as Sombra knew a griffon could not impregnate a mare, but Gilmore knew his king did not want anyone’s seed diluting his, so Gilmore decided that he would cum outside once the time was right, that was if the Pleasure he was getting from the mares cunt would let him hold back long enough to pull out. He had plenty of time in any case, it seemed that he was the last one to take his fill of the mare, the other guards who had not left for their duties, made casual conversation among themselves over party snacks, not paying much attention him and Pinkie: in days prior Gilmore would have thought that sight of an historical enemy of pony kind coated in blood, and balls deep in one of their females would have inspire some reaction at least, but in the castle of the new crystal empire, the stallions treated captive mares with no more mercy than the most savage of griffons would have done to their victims in the past. Gilmore was just another one of Sombra’s guard using a captive for splooge receptacle.

Lights flashed behind pinkies eyes as whatever magic that made this party so perfect seemed to be draining the energy from her even as it amplified the pleasure. Pinkie never like griffons, but this one seem so friendly, but for all the joy of the party, the pink fog seemed to be receding, the truth of the situation edging in at the corners of her mind: a dark revelation was emerging from the fluffy clouds of illusion, and it was shaped like King Sombra’s massive cock. A tear began to roll down her face as the griffons claws dug into her cutie marks, the pain bleeding thought the veil of drugged compliance, and all the while the fading magic seem to be dragging her consciousness away like her friends had been.

Sombra closed his eyes and lent back in his throne, his legs poking into the air as Gilda’s talented throat once again pulled him nearly to climax only to let him fall back to plateau, Sombra did not just want to hold on to some pleasure until his breeding mare was ready for him.

Turn around for your king.” said Sombra languidly “I would ruffle your feathers a bit before the mane event”

“Okay gov’na, I hope your grace will find Griffon pussy as good as the lame dweeb over there" said Gilda, gesturing to the pink mare who was still being fucked by her fellow griffon. Gilda turned around and presented her hindquarters to her king, who looked them over for a moment before placing his hooves on her rump and pushing her slowly down toward his throbbing flesh column.

Sombra’s penis was already slick with the griffon’s saliva, and slid into Gilda with ease, Sombra’s subdued moan transitioning into a sharp grunt as his length was enveloped by the griffon’s sex. Gilda's birdbox was delightfully tighter that the average mare, and if he hadn't Had a mare to impregnate Sombra would have probably blown his load into Gilda without a second thought, but he had to leave his balls blue until he put a foal into Pinkie pie.

Sombra was not alone in his pleasure, Gilda squawked and cawed in pleasure every time her rear bounced up and down in Sombra's lap, his penis stretching her inner walls, and his balls slapping against her clit with every bounce, although she had been the edging Sombra with her beak before, her stamina was the first to buckle. The sharp screech of her climax echoed around the big room; a few lingering stallions turned in her directed upon hearing the sound above all other noise in the room.

Gilmore had Pinkie on her back now, her legs grasped in his claws to stop her kicking, she seemed fully aware of what was doing on now and was trying desperately to pull away from him; to no avail, his strength keeping her from doing anything to take this away from him. Gilmore leered over the terrified mare and looked her dead in her tear-filled eyes: his bloodied plumage leaving red streaks all across the fur of her underbelly, the sudden, leering intimacy seeming to freeze her struggles as his piercing red eyes augured into Pinkies terror filling orbs. Before Pinkie could look away Gilmore had a paw around her throat, and his beak over her lips, all the while still thrusting into her. He did not mind the taste of stallions on her lips as his tongue slid around her mouth like a greased eel, hoping all the while she could taste the fear in the blood that still lingered on his beak, hoping she could revile the taste of the flesh and blood of the green mares unborn foal as much as he had savored it.

“ahem" up on hearing the voice from beside him Gilmore opened up one eye and saw his king waiting patiently like any of the stallions had, Gilda stood nearby, rear legs still wobbling slightly.

“Maybe vacate your kings’ property before he charges you rent” said Sombra with a touch of impatience, Gilmore broke contact with pinkies lips, a sting of saliva a blood still connecting them. before Gilmore could utter a hurried apology, and run off to find somewhere else to stick his cock Sombra spoke again.

“I mean – my others guards just came and went as quick as could be, you’re just on vacation.” Said Sombra as causally as one could expect for being in the presence of a rape; with his fully erect member glistening with the juices of a griffon, Sombra continued.

“finish by all means, but please remember time is money, and you’re on my payroll.”

Gilmore was racing to finish now, spurred on as much be lust to avoid docked pay as much as lust for the mare beneath him. Gilmore grasped Pinkie hard by the thighs and quickened his pace, the rough treatment coursing even more tears to pour from the pink mares’ eyes. Gilmore could feel a searing pleasure working its way further up his tapered shafted every time he plunged into his prey's slick folds, just as the rabid building of ecstasy chased his thrust to become uneven and shaky, he regained enough to self-control to pull out. Gilmore rubbed the length of his cock across the soft lips of Pinkies entrance, each stroke rubbed her party button coursing a small noise of pleasure to interrupt her sobs. Gilmore’s paws clenched onto the mares plump thighs as he came, each claw tearing the fabric of the socks which covered them, each sharp point drawing a pinprick of blood: Gilmore's hips gave a sharp Jab with each wave of pleasure as his cock painted Pinkies abdomen with streaks of slimy white frosting which dripped lazily down the sides of her stomach and the raised nubs of her nipples. Gilmore let his breath out in one long sigh as his orgasm faded, the last spurt of cum settled on the belly that would soon swell with his king’s foal. Now utterly spent and drained Gilmore let go of Pinkies legs and let his paws touch the tiled ground once more.

“Thank you your grace" Gilmore whispered out between exerted breaths. “I shall take my leave now.”

With the griffon’s departure the only one left waiting to use the pink broodmare was the king himself, Sombra sauntered toward the mare who had turned on her side as if to hide her tears from him, Sombra pulled her to her hooves with an effortless burst of magic, she kicked at the sex scented air, but there was nothing she could do now to resist her king: the griffon had left her with a coat stained with blood and two claw shaped bruises on her thighs; Sombra intended to leave her with something longer lasting.

Pinkie let out a cry of fear and a renewed stream of hot tears as sombra pushed himself inside her, burying himself up to the hilt in a single motion and started thrusting at full pace. Then pinkie noticed something else, Sombras penis felt different to the stallions who had came before him, a rougher texture, a sharper warmth…

“You’re not wearing a condom!” cried Pinkie between sobs, terror summoning the energy needed to shout even though the growing fog of whatever had been in the cake and her own physical exhaustion.

“please! Do whatever you want to…for Celestia’s sake just – don’t come inside me I’m in heat” Said pinkie, her words wobbling with fear.

“That’s the entire…auug…point - fuck it, you tell her Gilda.” Grunted out Sombra between thrusts.

“that’s the general idea dweeb.” Explained the griffon: “they did teach you where foals come from right? Think yourself lucky, you get the honor of being the kings breeding stock where you might have been feeding the crows at the Grand Galloping Gallows”.

Sombra smiled at the terror that Gilda’s blunt explanation stirred in the mare, but Sombra did not think he would have much time to enjoy it, his gigglestick had been given such a good spit and polish by the griffon, that he was astonished that he had not emptied his balls as soon as felt pinkies warm lower lips slip over his medial ring; in any case he knew his second jizzwind would not be keeping him from busting a nut for long.

Pinkie was a loose fit after all the guards where finished, but his pleasure was all the greater for knowing that he was going to pump his semen into the womb of a mare in heat, while the guards ejaculations was caught in latex bags which now lied haphazardly around the floor, discarded once their job had been done like so many slaves: right down to having been ejaculated in before being disposed of.

Sombra gritted his teeth as he finally came, the much teased and delayed climax making lights flash behind his eyes as pale party streamers exploded from the barrel of his cum-fetti cannon, his flaring tip pressed right against the gateway to pinkies womb. Finally Sombra let out a long sigh of carnal relief which was turned into a high wail as it passed though the unfurling party whistle in his mouth: Sombra stayed inside the mare a short while to make sure as little of his cum dripped out of her as possible, before pulling his softening cock out and dismounting.

Pinkie tried with what little strength remained to crawl away from the stallion who had just raped her: Sombra grinned for she could not crawl away from her own biology, soon her belly would grow with one of his foals.

“I just realized.” Said Sombra causally: “you didn’t even come, my apologies that was no way to treat the mother of my foal, Gilda, help our party pony out a wee smidgen please.”

Gilda obeyed her kings order without a word, clamping one paw onto Pinkies cutie mark, and pressing two fingers of the other against the mare’s clit, Gilda rubbed rapidly like she was starting a fire. Pinkies fading sobs where interrupted by her cry of pleasure as she orgasmed, the contractions of her loins drawing Sombra’s sperm deeper into her womb, the sudden exertion of her climax mingled with the deleterious after effects of the cake to drain the last her consciousness from her. Pinkie collapsed into sleep.

Gilda’s paw still hovered in the air, shiny with the mares fluids: “Laaaame” she moaned to herself while rolling her eyes, before giving the unconscious mare a hard slap across the rump, leaving a smear of Pinkies own fluids across her cutie mark, and a few faint red lines where gilda’s claws made contact. Pinkies 3 balloon cutie mark failed to pop.

“want me to get that Pegasus who does these kinds of things to clean up here?” said the griffon gesturing to the filled condoms which littered about the floor like lungfish on a primordial beach.

“Naah!” said Sombra: “she fell asleep at her own party so she can awake to the aftermath.” Sombra wondered how much if this she would remember come morning, not that it really mattered so long as her womb remembered to do its job.

His advisor watched Sombra trot away from within the empty party popper which laid on the arm of the throne. Sombra had to acknowledge that it was true what they said.

Ain’t no party like a Pinkie pie party.

Author's Note

So, I have decided that this wasn't complete after all , I had drafts of a few planned chapters before the commissioner dropped off the face of Equestria, which I have decided to upload since apparently there are more freaks who enjoy this stuff out there

this second chapter has less of the commissioners influence and more of my own, so you might find it...substantial wackier than the first, but at least it adds narcotics to the warning list, soon I might have the whole set.

good morning, and goodnight Rainbow Dash

Author's Note

3 chapters deep, and i finally added self harm to the warning list, I believe that makes the whole set. it is just a mention and nothing graphic, but best i put the warming up anyway,

warning, this chapter is darker than the others, and kinda brutal.

i have also made a few edits to previous chapters, mostly the first.

good morning, and goodnight Rainbow Dash

King Sombra’s mane blew gently in the warm afternoon breeze, from the high balcony Sombra could see for miles, but the land subjugated under His mighty hoof stretched further than eyes could see. Times like this he liked to look over all he had earned, all the scurrying creatures who lived in his long shadow.

Sombra closed his eyes, his horn glowed with a purple nightshade aura, and suddenly he could see to any place where his presence had made suffering bloom. Sombra’s point of vision flew down an alley faster than a Pegasus could fly: he was above the city, he was below the city, and there was nowhere under his rule that he could not see.

Further out his vision was still strong where his army had spread his new kingdom on a tide of blood. over there he could see a battle, a one sided affair, his soldiers had cornered a group of malcontents, a few dozen stallions forming a crude line to defend their mares whom had been hidden in a village once abandoned. but Sombra’s soldiers could not be repelled by such scant efforts, the soldiers would soon enjoy once again what they hungered for, there would be a spilling of blood, and once that was done a spilling of semen would follow as his guards reached the mares: such was the way of both nature and war.

Sombra’s vision spun away from the battle, and washed over the grassy plains studded with burnt farms until he crashed against a phantom barrier like surf against a Cliffside. The EverFree forest, this land had held no ponies whose anguish would allow him free roam to observe the lay of things. just like in the songs of superstition which had grown over the prosperous long years of his absence, songs that foals heard in their cribs, but would any know why they had been written? Maybe Sombra would know one day himself, one such song that related to his current thoughts undulated as a phantom in his minds ear.

“dark smoke, and dark eyes, seek out friends where stillness lies. The shadow king sees far, but not where hope is still a shining star. Home my child, gallop across plains, run from the shadows and where their lord reigns.”

Sombra wondered that if those songs had been about him, and not the king Sombra from 1000 years past, perhaps he would understand them all. Many ponies seemed to think him immortal, but an immortal doesn’t raise heirs, he raises competitors, and Sombra didn’t welcome those with open arms.

“Sire” – the word rattled around Sombra’s head, he liked that word, its aura of authority: one ‘sired’ a foal, when Sombra heard the word directed at him he heard the slap of a stallion hilting himself inside a fertile mare as he shuddered his genetic legacy into her womb. That was immortality, to live fo…

“Your grace”, the thought managed to interrupt Sombra’s previous musing, but it was not unwelcome, Sombra knew he had grace, a predatory and regal kind of presence in the world, his royal splen…

“your highness”, maybe Sombra would try another one of those white lines that Pinkie Pie had been so fond of…

“WAKE UP YOU FOOL!”.

Sombra turned to face the sudden noise, only to come face to metaphorical face with his advisor, the advisors words didn’t register with the king for a few seconds, but once they did Sombra was filled with the urge to unleash dread magic at the source of the insolence, but there was no target to be seen.

The advisor had chosen to speak to him from the dark interior of a knee-high cabinet, and Sombra knew that even his far-sight would be unable to see into that darkness while his advisor still occupied it as a pulpit. Sombra could see the slightest shift of shadows through the ajar door. Sombra had never met with the advisor so high above ground before, Sombra hadn’t been sure he even could, he was so…present when he appeared at ground level, and faded so quickly with every inch of stair ascended. as for when under the earth…

“shadow of shadows, darker than the night, the hand that casts them strong, but out of sight”

The advisor spoke: “how proceeds your work?” it's voice held no warmth, as cold, and as crackling as the frozen earth where Sombra had first met him. His voice Rattled with the dry bones of words.

“Pretty fair, pretty fair” acknowledged Sombra, “my dominion sprea...”

“have you found it yet?” interrupted the advisor, his impatient tone made the warm air feel colder, and Sombra knew it wasn’t all in his imagination.

Sombra thought on that for a moment: “we are encountering some poultry resistance near Griffonstone but we are still covering ground”.

“You should have waited, like we told you, waited until it had been located before you grasped for a throne” hissed the voice from inside the cabinet, the advisors voice would have been colder if it had not already been at absolute zero.

“who are you that gives you the right to talk to your monarch like that?” roared Sombra, he didn’t really expect an answer to the question: just like the time before, and the time before that.

“all you need to know is that it was we who brought you here, made you what you are.” With that the voice fell silent. Sombra trotted over to the cabinet and flung the little doors wide, nothing was inside but lingering cold.

Sombra’s horn pulsed, and a flash of octorine light reduced the piece of furniture to a cloud of splinters. Sombra felt a smidgen better, but he knew that the magic the advisor had taught him could not be used to harm its creator.

“The hell you did” muttered Sombra, he turned back toward the balcony and looked over the kingdom that was his and his achievement alone. “I could have done it alone – I SHOULD have done it alone” thought Sombra, very nearly believing it, he tried to focus on the pleasant view of his kingdom, but the sun retreated behind the distant mountains, all his kingdom was slowly being bathed in cold shadow.

Sombra looked into the past instead, not even a 100th the years ponies believed him to have lived, but for all it mattered yesterday was just as hard to retrieve than the days that had gone by before living souls roamed the world. The cloak kept ticking, its hands slicing lives down by hours and minutes, never to be turned back.

It was cold, the frozen north always was. the grey stallion had camped out in one of the ice caverns at the foot of a sheer rise in the mountainous terrain. He had been here for several days as he pondered on where to wander next.

He was awake but saw little reason to stir, he had everything he wanted in his arms, his mare was so warm, the outside so cold. The lavender coat of her back caressed his smoke grey underbelly, his head sat in the crook of her neck, and her swelling belly partially covered by one of his hooves.

The grey stallion watched her eyes open as the early morning sun peaked into the mouth of the cavern. No words were exchanged for a perfect minute, the harmony was broken by the grey stallion: “decided where we are traveling yet?”.

“Anywhere, so long as you are there” said the mare, the grey stallion pursed his lips to speak, but the mares own met them before the silence could be broken. They made love again, one of the grey stallion’s hooves wandered its way down her side, passing over her growing belly before coming to a stop between her legs, all the while their lips never parted, the grey stallion never desired to kiss another mare, and he never would. Outside the cavern the sun was rising fast, it was going to be another beautiful day.

The sun was setting as Sombra walked away from the fading warmth, even beneath the dust of years passed she was too beautiful for this world, thinking of her felt like a shameful act, he would look ahead even if the days remaining to him would never seem so warm as she had felt. The future was a mystery, but if Sombra knew one thing it was the light and warmth never endured, darkness and cold was the natural state of the universe, the world was floating in the endless cold blankness of space, and you were so very alone. Even if it Didn’t always feel like it.

Sombra’s thoughts had walked him into the bedchamber that adjoined the balcony, but before they could lead him any further, they were cut down by the sound of a shod hoof rapping against the door.

“Enter” said Sombra not even turning his head to face the door. The door swung open and a Pegasus guard stepped inside.

“your grace” said the guard with a rigid formality, despite his slight panting from the long climb.

“what is it that you have to bother me with now?”, mutters Sombra, still facing the wall.

“another one of the prisoners is in heat your grace” Said the guard. At this Sombra perk up a little, the flame of carnal desire growing just enough to melt the ice of his mood a little. “which one? The Purple one? Twilight’s the name right, oh she better love what I have planned for her” said Sombra, the flame now growing to melt the ice like dragons fire.

“The blue Pegasus your grace” corrected the guard.

The flame vanished like a candle on the seafloor, and so did Sombra’s appetite for flesh.

“what do you want us to do with her your grace” continued the guard “do you wish for her to be brought before you sire?”

“I want…” considered Sombra: “I want… I want…to get some sleep, I am sure she will still be in heat come morning, I always prefer my mares in the morning.”, The words felt strange and cold on his tongue.

He wasn’t tired, but he wanted to sleep anyway. after Flash had left, Sombra lay on his side, his head on the foot of the bed so he could see the setting sun out of the open balcony doors. He watched the light retreat past his vision, and once darkness had shrouded the world, he let his sight leave his body once more, he could see furthest while perched on the cusp of sleep. Lingering at the boundary where thoughts manifested as enjoyable wisps of possibility, without the chaos of the true dream world, the half sleep which ponies were pained to be awoken from, just to shoo away whatever had woken them in the hope they could get back before full consciousness obscured the way to that blissful borderland between reality and fantasy.

Sombras point of sight rose from his body, this time accompanied by a vague blur of his body that could almost add feeling to his far sight, the sensation was like he weighed so little the he could float on the buoyancy of his thoughts alone, and he could feel the wind pass right Through his ephemeral body.

Sombra drifted out of the window, and galloped across the sky on a road made of nothing at all. soon the lights of Canterlot were distant candles, just pinpricks of light as he moved forward. each effortless step carried him over miles of sky, he passed over a gleaming lake which Shined with pale moonlight, a cold body curtained by a sea of black shadow trees. He passed above flocks of bird singing songs together in the dark.

The journey could not last forever, soon Sombra pressed up against the soft wall that was the limit of his distance, not the dark Everfree forest, but the cold northern plains from whence he came, were now as solid a barrier as any wall. Unable to run further from his body, he climbed instead, running up that wall, and high into the night. There was no ghostly resistance here, Sombra passed layers of cloud, not disturbing a drop of water, and ever higher into the night, where the air was thin and the cold sharp, beyond where any creature of flesh and blood could fly, and still he kept rising, if he looked back he might have seem the world so far below him spread out like a curved map, but he only looked ahead.

Sombra floated so high that he left the whole world behind him, his kingdom, his subjects, and all his mares save for the one who was already lost, all became just distance specks too far to think about. Sombra was galloping out to the stars. One blinked pale green and followed him across the cosmos from the darkness.

An orange light grew in intensify as he caught up with the sun, the great orb grew closer, and larger until it filled the entirety of Sombra’s vision. His gallop carried him into the burning core, and all his senses became white fire so hot that it surpassed all description. His body and mind became one with the heart of a star.

Sombra's eyes opened, he was laying on his side, his head at the foot of a bed, the light of the rising sun shining onto his face, orange and warm, peaking out over the mountains beneath a dark eggshell zenith of sky that was rapidly turning into a morning blue as the sun rose.

Sombra rolled off the bed and onto his hooves in one swift motion, he felt 1000 years old, and like he had just been born. He wandered over to the dresser, and looked into the mirror, he still saw the same stallion as he had before, he stepped out onto the balcony. it had rained in the night, washing the marble free of splinters and ash. the sun was beginning to dry the exterior of the castle, it looked like it was going to be another beautiful day.

Gilmore the griffon sat in the mess hall where the guards took their meals, up until now there had always been fresh pony bodies he could rend to satisfy his hunger, but they had not executed any ponies in a few days, perhaps all the malcontents were already dead, or maybe just hiding, but the practical upshot of this dearth of victims was that the only pony meat they had lying around was several days old at the least, and thus was rather putrid, not freshalicious at all, Gilmore much preferred his meat to be still warm and dripping with hot blood, it always tasted that little bit worse when its heart had stopped beating.

It wasn’t as if griffons could not eat carrion if that was the cheapest option, but Gilmore's palette had been refined by frequent consumption of the finest horseflesh. He had reluctantly settled for the eldritch substance that his equine brethren referred to as “Grub” it was free, and how much worse could it be than week old sun ripened pony’ corpse fresh from the hemp vine?

“Grub” turned out to be some kind of lumpy porridge with a drizzle of honey, someone had besmirched the bowl of slop with a single mint leaf placed delicately in the center, Gilmore stared daggers at the green leaf until it sank below the surface like the coward it was.

“That’s right” whispered Gilmore, not breaking eye contact with his breakfast: “you better run”.

he lifted a spoon full of the substance to his beak, and was about to tentatively put it in his mouth, when a voice from behind cause his feathers to rise.

“why you talking to a bowl of gruel Homeslice?” said Private Donut, in that Mane-Hattan accent of his.

Gilmore's beak hung agape as he tried to think of a reason that didn’t make him look insane: “I like the taunt my food, tastes better when it’s scared you know…”, Gilmore realized instantly that his mission to not look like a crazy person had failed.

“you’re weird, I will be out searching the town for more ponies to rape, and kill with the normal people if you need me”. Gilmore looked to his bowl of slop, then to private Donut, then to the castle gate, then back to the slop which he was sure was laughing at him.

“you’re going out on patrol Joe?” said Gilmore, perking up a bit: “can I tag along? I’m sure there is something out there worth eating, fruit off stalls, fresh pies, children at their mother’s teats, that kind of thing”.

“aren’t you scheduled to take one of the kings mares out for her exercise?” choogled Donut.

It was a true enough statement, but Gilmore would pretty much rather be doing anything else than marching Rarity around the ramparts, making sure she did not try the throw herself off the castle walls, she had tried before, luckily it had been him chaperoning her, if it had been someone slower on the wing the mother of Sombra's firstborn would have took a vertical sprint face first onto cobbles, and maybe Gilmore would have been doing something more interesting today; but save one expectant mother from cratering and suddenly the kings thinks it's what would be on your cutie mark if griffons had cutie marks.

Of course, Sombra wanted his foals to be gestated in healthy vessels, which meant plenty of exercise, and fresh air. But Gilmore couldn’t even have any fun with them, they couldn’t get double pregnant, let alone from a griffon, but the king wanted them untouched all the same.

Gilmore was about to utter some reason to pass the task off on Flash Sentry when the conversation was interrupted by an explosion of purple light, the forced of the magical wind whipping Donut’s mane about, overturning tables and chairs. the castle chef’s artisanal gruel flew in every direction.

In the midst of the purple smoke Sombra stood atop a trestle table, a leaden statue of a true king, his curved horn still glowing with magic like an iron spike pulled from the furnace.

“Hey Gilgamesh, got a job for you, you any good at playing pretend?” boomed the powerful stallion, Sombra was perhaps a little bit shorter than Gilmore, but in the here and now he towered above the whole world.

What ever the king had in mind for him was probably better than what he had planned for today, and certainly better than that gruel.

“What must I do your grace?” said Gilmore, hoping this task would be as fun as the last such task Sombra had given him, even if Sombra could never get his name right.

“here’s what I need you to do…” explained the king.

Flash sentry was very surprised when the king appeared across from him at the other end of the large bathtub, the eruption of magic causing most of the water to explode up the walls of the bathroom.

“I made a mess of the mess hall” shouted the grey monarch, inches from Flashes stunned face “Deal with it!”, and with than he was gone as suddenly as he had appeared.

Flash sat in awe for a moment before stepping from the bath to collect his nice gold armor that the blast had scattered, his helmet had landed in the toilet - plume down.

Flash let out a long sigh of exasperation before muttering.

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

The sound of Rainbow Dash cumming echoed off of the walls of her cell, the cyan Pegasus was spreadeagled on the cell's luxurious bed, her rear legs jutted into the air, one of her hooves buried between them, she had been thinking of Soarin that time. Rainbow relaxed onto her side, not bothered in the least by the wet patch beneath were her hoof had been going to work. Rainbow both loved and hated being in estrus, on the one hoof the pleasure was to die for, every climax felt like it was her first, a hot, tight sensation all across her athletic body, sharp pulsations of ecstasy from her genitals like being struck by lightning bolts of white hot pleasure.

On the other hoof, it was hardly the most convenient state, the restlessness, the jitters, the inevitable sore wrist, and not to mention how easily she could become aroused, just the presence of a handsome stallion was enough for her knees to get weak, and her mareparts to get runny.

Rainbow would try to get some shuteye before she felt the need to pleasure herself again, being captive to Sombra Wasn’t so bad, her cell was comfortable, and she was being well fed, if only she could know for certain if her friends were being treated so well.

The cell door slammed open, and struck the wall with a deafening crash, Rainbow screamed in surprise, an involuntary beat of her wings briefly flattening her to the ceiling, the closest to flying the cramp space would allow. A griffon stood in the door frame, its body appearing black in front of the light he eclipsed, save for its crimson eyes which shined with predatory intent, Rainbow’s heart began to race as she watched herself growing in those shining eyes as the beaked head they were attached to stalked closer.

The Pegasus backed up into the corner of the rapidly shrinking cell, futilely putting a few extra steps between her and the griffon, the beast's tongue slid across its beak as he padded toward her, before she could react the griffon had a claw clamped to her ankle like on iron vice, without a word the griffon began to pull her toward the open door with very little observable effort

“Stop! where are you taking me” shouted Dash, all the while thrashing for any purchase.

The griffon grinned and replied: “the king has decided he doesn’t need any more broodmares, you are going to dance on the Grand Galloping Gallows.”

“w-w-whaa- at!” shouted Rainbow, fear and horror leaving her lips as disbelief, her flailing hooves grasped onto the door jam, terror lent her strength, and the griffon could not pull her loose. A spark of resistant anger grew in Rainbow as her rear hoof struck the griffon were his ribs met his abdomen, the griffon dropped her to the floor with a squawk.

A savage kick to her stomach from the griffon knocked the breath out of Rainbow, and pushed her hard into the edge of the door frame wings first.

“Excuse me, did I fucking stutter?!” choogled the snowy griffon, suddenly angry: “you are going to swing from a rope tied around that pretty neck of yours until your contorting face turns purple, and your legs stop kicking.”

Rainbow didn’t waste her energy on words, what she needed to do was fight, fight for her life. Rainbow propelled herself upright with a push of her wing, as she came up, she put all the force her well honed body could into a blow aimed at the griffon’s head.

He was expecting the blow this time, the beak gripped her pastern, his claw planted near her chest, the weight she had put behind the blow Turned against her, carried forward as the griffon twisted and heaved. Rainbow was thrown past the door, and into the hallway beyond. this griffon was no preening songbird, he knew how to fight.

A word the griffon had uttered finally registered with Dash, even past her rage: “broodmares, you said the king had enough of them, who are these broodmares!” Rainbow thought she knew the answer, and that made her anger overflow, directionless, and scolding; she just needed to hear it from this bastard’s beak.

His eyes closed for a brief second as if scenting prey in the distance.: ”you know…” hinted the vicious avian,” there’s a pink one, and a yellow one, and they are all going to bare the kings progeny, he raped the white one as soon as he met her, what a whirlwind romance.” Hissed the griffon blissfully.

“why them, and not me?!” shouted Rainbow, anger at her friend’s defilement filed her words to knifes,” Didn’t think you could keep me chained to a birthing bed?”.

The griffon snorted in disdain:” ha! the king could put a foal in you as easy as any of the rest.” The griffon began to circle around toward her flank, forcing her to move toward the Centre of the corridor. “ the sticking point is…” the avian looked her dead in the eyes before continuing, “Sombra doesn’t want gutter trash like you being the mother of his child.”.

Rainbow Dash as taken aback by this even in her fury, “what do you mean?” asked the cyan Pegasus, genuinely curious to know how her reputation fell so far from inside a prison.

The griffon saw her moment of consternation, lunged, swept, grasped, laughed; and in one fast motion he had Rainbow pinned against the wall, the griffon reared up to his full,and impressive height, the strength in his hind legs sliding Rainbow up the wall so the her flailing appendages could do nothing,but fruitlessly swat at him, she may as well have been slapping at an oak tree.

“What do I mean by that?” asked the griffon playfully, “everypony knows about Rainbow Dash, the mare who has been fucked by a male of every species she met, you’re the only plot of land every sentient race has conquered.”

Rainbow stared incredulously into the griffon’s confident red eyes. “that never fucking happ…” Rainbows words where cut short by the griffon’s.

“Rainbow dash, the skank who let every Wonderbolt taste the rainbow in exchange for getting picked for tryouts, everypony is welcome in Dash’s gash”.

“muleshit!” screamed Rainbow, now as angry at the slander as she had been at the revelation of her fate, “you’re making it up you dirty lyrebird.”

“Maybe I am” said the griffon, a huge grin appearing on his beak…somehow. “it doesn’t matter if you are a Cum dumpster or not, plenty of stallions are waiting to treat you like one before you dangle from a crossbeam.”,” but for now you are all mine.” Added the avian casually.

Rainbow tried to recoil from the griffons advancing beak, but the strong paw around her neck kept her head locked firmly in place as the griffon’s beak enclosed her mouth, and his tongue slipped into her mouth. See tried to bite down on the tongue as it slid around her mouth like an oiled snake, but the lithe organ was as tough as a piece of boiled leather with bones in it.

The griffon wrenched free from her lips allowing Rainbow to gasp in some of the few breaths she had left on Equestria.

“you think that a creature with a razor-sharp beak is going to have a tongue that’s easy to bite into? Said the griffon, before clamping his rostrum back onto Rainbows lips.

Rainbow gasped at a new sensation, her genitals: damp and engorged from her estrus, were throbbing with a fresh pleasure, she peered down past the griffon’s beak to see his other paw buried between her legs, two agile digits were massaging her most sensitive nub, the griffon knew what he was doing, and Rainbow couldn’t help, but moan into his gullet as his deft paw rang her doorbell. She could see that he was as excited as she was, his tapered penis swung about beneath his belly, each suck, each writhing of his tongue against her own Caused the organ to pulse as it expanded with blood and need, soon a white bead began to form at the tip.

Rainbow kicked, and pushed at the bird, her own pleasure grew as the griffon quickened his pace, soon she was sure he could hear the vibrations of her muffled moans in his beak.

The griffon broke the forced kiss and stared rainbow in her eyes, filled with fear and shock, but no tears, a string of saliva hung between them for a moment before falling away.

“go on” said the griffon, his crimson eyes locking on to hers, “scream, nobody will think less of you for it but yourself, and she isn’t going to be here for long.”

Words of defiance where about to cross Rainbows lips l, when the griffon let a little of her weight onto the paw working her mareparts, sliding his two digits into her as her back slid down the wall, the sudden insertion made her cut off her words with a gasp.

The griffon smiled, and Dash ground her teeth and clenched her eyes shut as the griffons buried digits beckoned inside her marehood, hitting that one spot in the front of her vagina that made her legs buckle. Her fluids were dripping between the griffon’s fingers forming a little puddle beneath where she was pinned. just thirty odd foot of grunts later the pleasure overcame her will.

“A-A-A-AHHHHHHHUGH! Rainbow screamed as her climax hit her, lightning bolts of pleasure coursed from her genitals all to the way to the tips her hooves with every involuntary contraction, her legs kicked wildly at the empty air.

As soon as it was over Gilmore let the cyan mare slide to the floor with a thud, in a smear of her own fluids. “Don’t go trying to collapse yet” suggested Gilmore, “you’ve got an appointment at the swingers club, I will drag you by your tail if you won’t walk”. This reminder of her execution stoked a new incentive to escape in the blue mare, she tried to clatter onto her hooves, a sharp kick in the ribs put a stop to that, Gilmore thought he heard something crunch, but the fight had not left her yet.

A paw full of feathers torn from her wing, a shape strike to the rump which added bruise purple to the rainbow of her cutie mark, and finally a shearing snap of his beak, that filled Gilmore's mouth with the taste of her savory blood, and tore free a neat triangle of flesh from her shoulder: just a little nip. she then seemed more inclined to cooperate.

Gilmore pulled her to her hooves, her head remained down for fear of another blow, but her eyes still shined with fire. The sound of hooves came clip-clopping down the corridor. it was private Donut. “You seem to have had fun.” choogled the burly unicorn, “she seems to have simmered down now, she was a feisty one.”

“sounds like she will be a kicker” mused Donut as he used a rope to secured Rainbow’s wings to her body like they always did with pegasi. Gilmore turned to his captive and said “shame that a fine arse like yours has to go to waste” the griffon gave Dash a hard slap on her firm buttocks with the same paw he had used to make her cum, leaving a streak of her own fluids across her plot, the wet smack echoed around the barren hallway, “I wanted to rip your throat out while cumming into your snatch, but the king demands you try on a hemp necklace” choogled the griffon with just a hint of disappointment, “I guess I will have to make do with picking your flesh from your bones once you’ve stopped twitching. The cyan mare didn’t even look at him, she was utterly defeated, but still shed no tears.

King Sombra whistled a tune to himself to pass the time away while he waited for Gilbert, and constable Bagel, or whatever their names were to get done with their part so he could get done in Rainbow’s parts. The tune he whistled was old, he had heard the lyrics once, as a young child they had narrated a warning of the ancient shadow king, but in is youthful naivete , he never thought that one day he would be the ancient shadow king, it was like they said, first you believe in Santa Hooves, then you don’t believe in Santa Hooves, then you are Santa Hooves. Although even the raciest greeting cards never depicted him waiting beneath an occupied gallows for a warm hole to fill, or even for milk and cookies.

Sombra tapped his hoof in mild impatience as he waited for his mare to be brought before him. Sombra had chosen to perform his royal business without being clad in royal raiment, his smoke grey form was as naked and unadorned as the bodies which dangled from the ropes around him, save for his crown of fused electrum nestled in his black mane. The image of dark power, and royal authority was slightly spoiled by the milk, and the cookies that the leaden stallion was enjoying.

It was a fine morning, the sun shined sharply past fading clouds, the earth was still wet from last nights rain, the scent of morning dew made a valiant effort to mask the scent of rotten corpse, it wasn’t succeeding. Sombra chewed his cookie, oatmeal and raisin, and drank his milk, cow. Where were those two with the prisoner? Sombra could forgive them for taking their time with her, but this was going on vacation.

Sombra began to pace up and down the row of stiffs, most too rotten to put names to: the faceless, bloated evidence of his brutal rise to power. Sombra had made sure to leave a fresh noose empty, and inviting for the prisoner. Sombra’s trot circled around the Grand Galloping Gallows, a lazy, smooth gait, too graceful to churn grass into mud. The Gallows were not as grand as the name implied, crudely hammered together from unseasoned wood and short nails, it’s design was no more elaborate, there was no trapdoor so that its guests could be dropped below the sight of watchers so that nobody saw their neck snap from the sudden stop, this wooden machine of terror was nothing more than two posts married to a crossbeam, it got the job done by the simple tossing of a rope over the crossbeam, and pulling the victim into air with the executioners own strength, no neck had ever been broken beneath its wooden beam. Sombra had had a few ponies hanged indoors, but that was neither the most practical location, nor the most fun.

Sombra’s pacing turned him the face the gate into the castle proper, which had not to his knowledge ever been closed, some symbol of Celestial’s open armed Benevolence, and through its gaping entrance Sombra could see his blue pegasus being half led, half dragged toward him by a kite-Andean Griffon, and a mandibually endowed unicorn stallion.

the two marched the prisoner out into the soft morning light of the courtyard, when she clapped eyes on the row of danglers behind Sombra she tried to make a break for it, bolting away to the right; but the attempt only ended with her being knocked to the ground by Private Donut, who dragged her up to her hooves, her cerulean coat now streaked with mud from the well-trodden path to the gate which had been the last furlong many ponies trod. Sombra’s anticipation was not smothered by mud any more that it was discouraged by the mare’s bruises, and scratches.

The two guards dumped the mare at their king’s hooves, and stepped aside with formality, and poise, the display of synchronous discipline no less impressive despite the beige stallion’s obvious arousal from being in such close contact with a mare in season. Sombra reckoned that the sand toned stallion was perhaps a little bigger than him. The mare’s estrus was already causing blood to flow into Sombra’s own sword, which twitched and expanded in pulses as it slid free of its scabbard.

The blue mare quivered, and trembled, but she made no sound, nor shed any tears. Sombra’s horn glowed as a purple haze enveloped his mare, she remained resigned, defeated even as the magical force hauled her into the air, and carried her to a nearby cluster of barrels, her legs dangled limply, but her amethyst eyes never broke from the line of lifeless bodies, and the one unoccupied noose. Sombra preferred that his mares try to resist him, but he never expected Rainbow dash to be the kind of pony who surrendered before the battle had even begun.

Rainbow dash flopped over the barrels on her back like a dead fish. Sombra trotted over to her pathetic form, leaned himself over her so that he was close enough to feel her strangely calm breath on his snout, and looked into her eyes which expressed no reaction: already dead.

“just going to lay down, and take it like the other Pegasus did? Said Sombra - no response from the mare beneath him.: “whatever you like I guess” said Sombra disappointed that the mare he had heard was so lively turned to be just a listless cock-slot.

She made just a little sound as Sombra pushed himself into her unresisting snatch, a tiny gasp of what could have been pleasure or just surprise, but Sombra barely heard it over his own exhaling moan as his length was enveloped in the mare’s warm folds. Sombra concluded that he may as well get done with it, as clearly nothing terribly exciting was going to happen, fucking this mare was just masturbating with her cunt.

Sombra went straight into medium rhythm, and made no effort to delay his orgasm, after a minute or two of nothing but the wet slapping of his penis plunging in and out of her vagina, Sombra was about ready for a no doubt underwhelming orgasm, an anticlimax.

It had taken Rainbow dash all of her resolve to wait this long, she had played the spooked horse, they probably thought that she was just some tomcolt wannabe wonderbolt who would crumble into submissive terror as soon as they worked her over, but this pegasus wasn’t going to be marched meekly to the gallows.

She had been waiting for her opportunity, and all while acting like a broken, tiny thing, all she had needed to do was channel fluttershy.

Each time the grey stallion bucked into her she was rocked back and forth a smidgen, with just careful positioning she had made it so that the repetitive motion rubbed the rope that bound her wings against the rough surface of the barrel she had been placed on, the rope loosened and fell, but Rainbow dash still sought the ideal moment.

Dash saw her narrow window to freedom, the grey stallion eyes shut as he got close to his climax. Rainbow’s wings flew open like two cerulean scimitars being drawn, her back hooves smashed into her rapist’s stomach, his eyes shot open, and all his held breath shot of his mouth in one great ‘uugh’. Carrion crows erupted from the gallows.

Rainbow didn’t care if it was pain, or mere shock that had left the stallion reeling, she sent him stumbling aside, and leapt into the air faster than she had ever done before. Rainbow Dash rose like a blue comet in reverse, but she knew that the grey unicorn would not stay dazed for very long, she started the roll as soon as she heard the fizzing sparkle of a magical buildup. The spell ripped past to her left, missing her by a half dozen yards, an incandescent white fireball boiling the air around it, reducing a fleeing crow to nothing more than a few smoldering feathers. the effulgent earthbound star shot into the clouds faster than any creature could fly, leaving blue-grey afterimages across Rainbow’s vision.

A few wingbeats later the Cyan pegasus’s head pierced a low cloud, and she was free.

As Rainbow erupted from the roof of the cloud a force slammed into her from the side, and grasped. sharp points dug into her body, and her vision was filled with white feathers. The griffon slashed with his talons, and snapped his beak. Rainbow pumped her wings hard, but the griffon was too heavy, she was falling back to the gallows.

Rainbow struck with her hooves, butted with her head, striking the flesh under his feathers, a screech erupted from the beast as her jabbing hoof struck the base of his wing, and the whole flailing ball of griffon and pegasus tumbled toward the earth even faster.

“where do you think you’re going” shouted Gilmore, above the rushing wind.

“some place I will enjoy” shouted Rainbow, as the words passed her lips, and became lost in the upward Gail, her hoof swung hard into Gilmore’s throat, and Dash was rewarded with a choking caw, and the griffon’s grip loosened: she had been right, she did enjoy it.

They were close to the ground now, and falling fast, Rainbow had fought too hard to let them take her, she kicked hard, and one of the limbs grasping her broke free, that other hung on by a single talon.

Sensing that he was losing his grip, Gilmore’s beak shot out, finding flesh somewhere above Rainbow’s right eye, but she felt nothing, but anger under the Adrenalin, it was do or die, if she didn’t get this bastard off her she would be at the end of her rope literally.

Rainbow push with her hooves, and twisted in the air: the griffon was cast away from her just in time, as she freed herself, she felt a ripping pain above her right eye which was brilliant even through the rage fog of Adrenalin. Blood gushed over her right eye, and shoulder.

Rainbow flapped as hard as she could to stop falling, and just a few feet from the ground managed to arrest her momentum, and began to rise…then the magic struck.

Cold fire coursed in her wings, which became as immovable as stone. Rainbow fell to the grass, and before she could get to her hooves the grey stallion was on top her, she tasted damp soil as a strong hoof forced her face into the ground.

The grey stallion bellowed, in victory or in rage Rainbow could not say. “someone get me a noose, this bitch is pigfeed as soon as I’m done!” shouted the grey stallion, the anger almost rising off him like steam.

Sombra Was more savage animal than graceful monarch now, the thin layer of ermine nobility peeled away to reveal a rutting beast which lusted for dominance and sex. Evil in a different way, but no lesser than the scheming masterminds that occupied thrones of cliche .

Sombra’s penis throbbed between his legs, still shiny with fluids from when he’d been inside her. Rainbow regretted leaving his balls blue. faces turned blue before they turned purple. her escape had failed, and she was certain that she was going to die with a rope around her neck.

Sombra bucked wildly at Rainbow’s candy plot, too furious to line his genitalia up with hers, the first few strokes slid his cock across her flank leaving a streak of pre-cum across her cutie mark. Another animalistic jab had him nearly bury himself in completely the wrong hole. Not that Rainbow thought that would bother him much.

Private Donut came bounding over, a hurriedly cut noose held in his teeth. Rainbow’s mouth opened on its own to frame appeals for her life as her eyes sighted the hempen cord, but no sound passed her bloodied lips. She would not beg to the deaf ears of the beast mounting her. She would never beg…

With an ugly grunt of triumph and pleasure, Sombra’s organ found its target, Rainbow felt him push into her slick tunnel. The savage insertion pushing sparks of pleasure up into her belly, her small moan was muffled by her hoof held to her mouth. All the while hot blood still poured down the right half of her face, no more painful that a bee-sting beneath all she was feeling.

There was a sound of flapping wings, and the griffon gracefully perched himself atop the vacant space on the gallows, the flap of his big grey wings caused the ponies to swing like they must have when they had been strung up. Rainbow saw that he had something in his beak. he tapped his claws on the beam above the empty noose. Waiting. Rainbow recalled his comment about picking her bones clean.

Sombra was deep in pleasure, and deep inside Rainbow dash, pistoning in, and out of her. no rhythm but a bestial fury which made some equally animal part of dash’s biology quiver, and spasm in the joy of being bred. No stallion or mare had fucked her like this before.

Sombra’s savage ministrations slowed to a more normal, albeit still brutal tempo when he spotted the griffon.

“great save up there Gilford” choogled Sombra, “have a biscuit on Rainbow Dash – oh, I see you have already got one!” once Sombra’s stopped talking his pace moved straight back into enraged rutting.

Rainbow stared at what the griffon had in his beak and saw…that Surely couldn’t be what he had? – she would have felt it, she would have screamed, she needed to make sure. Rainbow stroked a foreleg across one side of her head, her ear flapped against her hoof like it always did; she tried the bloodied side…

She looked into the griffon’s face, who shot back a smug avian grin, then gulped down the orphaned cyan ear.

Rainbow might have screamed, but it was all becoming to much, she chuckled just so that she wouldn’t cry. Sombra wasn’t letting up, his breathing becoming ragged between snarls of ecstasy as his flesh lance plunged in and out. Rainbow gasped as a lucky thrust slammed into her snatch at just the right angle, hitting that sensitive stop that made her knees buckle, the very same one that the griffon had wielded against her outside her cell. as engrossed as Sombra was in his mounting pleasure the fertile mare’s reaction did not escape him.

“you’re going to cum as you die.” Prophesized the grey stallion through a maniacal rictus, “and so will your king.”

Rainbow said nothing, defiantly staring ahead to her fate while the stallion inside her made sure every thrust hit that special spot of her most intimate flesh, his strokes had been mostly shallow and quick, but now he made certain every thrust took his tip from her tender lips to her tight nadir, and punctuated its stop with the wet slap of his testicles against her clitoris.

Rainbow Dash would never have felt shame having an orgasm in a situation like hers in the way Flutters must have. she was a healthy young mare, mares cum when they get fucked, it was a fact of life, and only prudes thought of it as some damning mark of shame, rather than just an inevitable bodily function. But she would be damned if she let Sombra’s statement become true. One last test of endurance…

She looked dead ahead, and tried to ignore the pleasure rising in her belly. The griffon was still perched above the empty noose – her noose. He was clearly enjoying the view, his Birdbreeder stuck over the edge of the beam, a small bead of Pearlescent fluid began to form on the tip – swelled – formed a hanging drop – jiggled – and fell, a single tear landing silently below the waiting noose, Rainbow knew that when she kicked and spasmed the last of her life away in its creaking embrace, Sombra’s seed would slide down her bruised thighs to join the griffon’s fluid.

She had been so focused on that rope, that she had forgotten about the one that the beige stallion had brought Sombra, until she felt Him slip it around her neck. Its Rough, itchy surface closed about her throat just tight enough to be unpleasant, the feeling like when she would hang her head over the side of her bed to search underneath, her face began to feel tight and bloated. Sombra pulled the noose tighter every time he bucked into her dripping cunt, which spasmed with pleasure now, her throat as still open enough for her to let out a warbling grunt as a glob of pleasure worked past her terror.

Rainbow felt the blood pulsing in her veins, and her vision began to turn brown and fuzzy around the edges, as the bite of the rope began to rob her of consciousness, soon her eyes completely failed her, but she could still hear, the sound of Sombras’s increasingly ragged grunts of ecstasy and Exertion, the sound of the gentle morning breeze in distance trees, and the leathery slithering of some grinding, whispering, shadow in every dark corner of the castle.

The noose yanked upward hard, and she felt her forelegs leave the ground, she tried to reach for her throat, but whatever will she threw into her limbs they would only move as Appendages that had fallen asleep could. Rainbows jaw hung slack and she felt every muscle in the stallion behind her tighten, and so did the noose. Even at the brink of consciousness the orgasm hit Rainbow like a falling mountain, the lack of oxygen transmuting the pleasurable contractions into incandescent spasms, each of which made lights flash behind her unseeing eyes, hitting her spine like fireworks of pure pleasure, her inner muscles clenched onto the length sliding up and down inside her, which twitched and flared.

As her climax faded, so did her consciousness, the last thing she heard before darkness took her was Sombra’s melodious bellow of pleasure, and the last she felt was the hot pulses of semen thumping against her cervix. A tear rolled down her cheek, and that was the worst pain of all.

King Sombra let the rope slip free from his mouth, the cyan mare slumped over, and against his royal idiom, so did Sombra. That – that! had been something, he had intended only to scare the mare as he fertilized her by pretending she was going to die, but when she broke free, and bounded skyward his anger had been genuine, he was glad she dodged his Impulsive magical fireball, all the anger, and frustration she had inspired had been shuddered into her womb with his seed, the sudden, blissful relief had left him lying on his side In the mud, gasping for breath, when his world had stopped spinning, he got to his feet, legs as wobbly as a mares after being fucked in season for the first time. Rainbow Dash had made a mare of King Sombra. Sombra was sure she would produce a strong and fierce colt or filly.

He knew she wasn’t dead, just out of it. He ordered that Gottfried, and legate Stickybun take her back to her cell, and see that she was cleaned up.

he was careful to be very specific with Gimlets orders, the previous order he had given the griffon had been to simply drag Rainbow to the Grand Galloping Gallows, and make her feel like it was real, and it had ended with him ripping off one of her ears, and eating it. that was some hardcore method acting.

Sombra languidly made his way toward the door which would take him to his bedchamber, it was early morning still, but already he felt like he pumped all his energy for the day into that Pegasus.

He had almost started to whistle in satisfaction when he saw it from the corner of his emerald eye.

He trotted backward, and then forward again to be certain he had seen what he had thought he had. It was definitely turning to face him as he moved…the corpse of a yellow stallion turned to face King sombra like a compass.

Why was it doing it Sombra could not have said, how it was doing it Sombra did not know. How long had it been doing it? Sombra asked in the privacy of his mind, had it turned to face the tower that held his bedroom? Had its ragged eye sockets been fixed in his direction through all the hours of strange, and pleasant dreams?

Sombra wandered over to the hanging body, much too rotten to possibly be moving under its own power. He examined the corpse up, and down with his eyes, from the yellow stallion’s dangling hooves, to the tip of his crow-pecked ears – Sombra found his answer.

It was dark inside the stallion’s slack mouth, darker than mere blackness, the slithering shadow that Sombra was only too familiar with, but had never realized was capable of appearing like this. Sombra was unsettled, by the sight, if the advisor could appear in a dead body like this, could he do the same with a live one? Perhaps more concerning to the king was the movement, it took very little force to make a hanging body sway, but even that was more physical influence on the world than Sombra was entirely comfortable with the advisor possessing.

The voice came from the empty cavern of the stallion’s mouth with all the warmth of the gulf between the stars.

“come see me in my home…”

“how can I do that?” replied Sombra, “where in the world do you live?

After a long pause that made Sombra think the advisor hadn’t heard him, the voice came again, quiet, and elongated as if the forced needed to sway the body had drained it utterly.

“I don’t…” trailed the speaking darkness within the moist cavern.

“Well I can hardly buy a fucking train ticket, then can I?” Said Sombra, profanity hiding his growing chilliness.

Nothing came from within the dead stallion’s mouth now, but Sombra’s ears turned his head skyward upon the cry of some distant bird in the north sky, deep and mournful.

When Sombra’s eyes made their way back to the pulpit carcass he saw something that injected ice water into his heart. Just for a moment, one short enough to have been a figment of his mind, Sombra had seen an eye at the back of the stallion’s throat. A baleful, pale eye at the bottom of a sightless pit

Sombra stood for the best part of an hour, staring into the back of the corpse’s throat, none of his underlings questioned his action. In time he managed to convince himself almost that it had been a trick of the light…almost. By then the sedative of his orgasm was demanding that he take a nap, Sombra had always wondered if that biological quirk had been nature’s way of giving the mare time to escape…

Sombra Didn’t feel like climbing all those stairs to his bedroom, not with all those shadows between here, and there. Sombra focused his mind on the image of his bedroom, it was always easiest to teleport to familiar spaces, in an instant flash of light Sombra vanished from the courtyard.

It was the wrong choice of travel option.

The clouds of magical mist cleared, and where Sombra was expecting to see his bedroom, was nothing but darkness and cold, such a darkness he had never known.

An apple gets some seeds?

Author's Note

Special thanks to 'VolkspanzerIsME' you know who you are...

An apple gets some seeds?

The grey stallion turned his roughspun cloak against the rising wind, and plowed onward despite nature’s resistance. He crested a hill, and finally the light of the cabin came into view, a faint orange speck midst a swarm of white snowflakes like the dandruff of heaven.

The grey stallion’s mare buried herself deeper into his side, the closer they got to their home the harsher the cold seemed to bite, perhaps it gave them its all in desperation as it saw that they were nearly home.

The last few steps toward the front door were the longest of all, but soon the grey stallion, and his mare passed beyond the creaking portal, and stepped together into the warmth of home and hearth.

The grey stallion’s lavender mare still clung to his side despite the warmth of the cabin now caressing away the frigid ache that the howling breath of winter had wrought, but even for her loving embrace the grey stallion felt the need to rest awhile.

He walked toward their crude bed, his mare clinging on as she had in the snowy miles outside the wooden sanctum of the cabin which the grey stallion had built with his own two hooves, he had laid each log with the love, and apprehensive pride of a stallion about to start a family, even in a place as cold as this his mare was all the warmth he needed, and in her swelling belly was a foal he would love as much.

The furs of the crude bed slid across his own course coat, as he slid in the warm bed along side his mare. The grey stallion ran a gentle hoof across the bump of his mare’s belly, and relaxed into a state of drowsy contentment.

“Will we be happy here?” mumble his mare, who had been asleep on her hooves as soon as she entered the cabin.

The grey stallion said nothing, but kissed her on the cheek, and that action was reassurance enough. In time sleep took hold of the grey stallion, and his mare, and in later hours dreams followed in the wake of needed rest.

The grey stallion was awoken not by the sounds of the roaring snow outside his rectangular world of wood, and warmth, but by the sudden absence of such. The snow storm which had been raging on the outside had ceased as suddenly as could be – the sun was not close to waking, but the grey stallion felt a diurnal inclination to greet the absence of a morning.

His mare stirred softly, as the grey stallion slipped from the warmth of the bed as silently as the shadow of a cloud. The grey stallion made his way to the door on his tippy- hooves; the wooden door creaked in protest as it was pushed against the piled snow at its foot. The mare cooed in her sleep, and reached for the stallion who was still laying beside her in dreams.

The grey stallion looked back as if for the last time, and trotted out into the cold night, driven by some strange longing which in all the subsequent days of his life he was never able to describe fully.

King Sombra stood in darkness, darkness above, darkness ahead, all the world was darkness and cold. Sombra gazed forward but not a single photon made its presence known; the cold here was profound, he felt that if he spoke his words would fall to the ground and shatter like glass before anyone could have heard them.

Sombra’s horn pulsed with magic as he tried a spell of illumination, the light of that spell would have been bright enough to blind, but in this place the air itself seemed to soak up the light like a velvet sea, turning the spell to nothing more incandescent than a match struck underwater. A brief spark, and then nothing.

Sombra’s hooves stood atop what felt like cold sand, perhaps ground ice with none of the slickness, a desert of unseen cold. Sombra stood as still as the frigid air for what could have been hours or could have been seconds, at some point he decided to walk, but nothing could have told him if that achieved anything, in this place the darkness made walking as motionless as standing.

Sombra kept walking, and walking across the cold desert, not knowing if he had even moved, until he saw a sign; a tiny thing, yet it was all that was needed to give direction and purpose to this place, a pinprick of light straight ahead and above like a lone star which only gleams when all the others disappear.

Drawn onward by the distant light Sombra’s trot transformed into a gallop, and as the cold sand rushed like a river between his hurried hooves the far-off star grew ever closer so slowly. As quickly as it had appeared the star vanished, and Sombra skidded to a halt, but this area of blackness somehow felt different, he was now standing in what felt like icy water which nipped at his pasterns.

“Now” the grinding voice percolated out of the air “Are you ready to talk of your duties?”

Sombra said nothing, and waiting to see what the phantom voice which he knew to well had to say.

It could have been years that Sombra spent listening to the voice describe how he was not putting in enough effort into finding…whatever it was the advisor wanted, out under the earth of equestria, and that he should try harder before he found out what darkness and cold really meant.

Sombra still knew nothing as to what the advisor had wanted in exchange of helping him claim his throne, just that It lay underground, but since he was here, he might as well ask.

“just what is it you want me to find out there!” shouted Sombra into the blackness, he had not expected a reply, and was met with silence.

He heard them before he saw them. distant splashing of feet and hooves trudging in the frigid water, and then he saw them wandering past him in single file, mostly ponies, with some dragons and griffons among the damp parade, he even saw several species he could not name, and all had the same distinct features of the magic that the advisor had given Sombra, that he wore on his own body.

The voice took on a tone of slight emotion for the first time: “why the original of course…eternity is a long road and even the most recent of you have been all but forgotten”.

The marching succession of previous King Sombra’s began to fade. And the royal stallion was left in darkness and cold once again.

Sombra stood in the dark abyss for so long he started to get bored, and soon he decided to try to teleport again. Much to his surprise it worked, and he was back in his bedchamber. The king laid down on his fine bed, and wondered if all that had been a dream, if it was but a dream he needed to find a good explanation for why his hooves were damp.

The grey stallion had walked far from the cabin where he left the warmth of his mare behind, but he found comfort in the idea that no matter the distance of time and space her face would be engraved on his heart until the day it stopped. A strange calling had drawn him from the cabin, and from were it came, and were it drew him he could not say, but none the less he walked onwards in darkness and cold.

The call led him to the mouth of a hollow, which led him to a cavern where the sun had never shon. As the grey stallion descended futher into the darkness of the cavern his concern grew deeper as he climbed down rough stone stairs which were no longer slickened by ice, and blown snow.

The grey stallion stopped his already hesitant stride when he thought that he heard hooves just behind his, but for as long as he waited no-one appeared. The grey stallion started up his journey once more, the stone tunnel narrowed, and he knew that in the small space no one could hide, but he kept looking behind himself anyway.

The cave came to a halt eventually, and the grey stallion came to realized that he had wandered across frozen moors for nothing but a lingering dream; the sun was probably Beginning to rise, and his mare would be waking up alone.

The grey stallion was standing at the nadir of a sightless pit, and he was alone save for the untouched shadows.

“we can make you a king…” said the shadows.

King Sombra laid atop the silken covers of his luxurious bed, and to any who would have seen him he looked dead to the world, still as stone with breaths further apart than normal nocturne respiration. But the only one who saw Sombra sleep was Sombra himself, the king looked over his own sleeping form, and considered the notion that without the weight of his soul his body needn’t breathe so deep of the earthly air, and divorced from his flesh, no longed fused to his own bone mass his spirit did not need to breath at all.

He wondered how long he could last outside his own body if its heart were to stop in the night, without his flesh to anchor him to this world would he just expand, and fade away as the drop of ink that was his soul was diluted by the world around him – until he was spread so thin that he was nothing but an echo of thoughts and feelings drifting over the land.

Would he linger on until the ends of the earth, a phantom kept cohesive by the strength of its own undying will. with no home to return to Sombra did not think so, and hoped not, even more, Sombra didn’t believe in ghosts, but then again he didn’t believe in King Sombra until he became King Sombra, so maybe it was the same for spirits, and haunts, and then ghosts would turn out to be more than just old houses dreaming of people in the night.

He didn’t plan on finding out anytime shortly, for now, he was just taking a walk on the other side, but he would find his way home tonight, just as soon as he felt the rising sun upon his unoccupied body.

Sombra did not know if this had a name, but he had always thought of it as dreaming, dreaming in the material world. The advisor had given him powers dark and terrible, but this was not one of them: the dreaming was made stronger by the power of shadows in the same way that learning another language helped you better understand your own, but it had been with him since before he could remember, he was a native speaker in dreams.

The dream of Sombra turned away from his body and headed out for the night. The phantom stallion trotted down the silent tower rungs until perhaps a third of the way to the bottom he realized he was only traversing the castle in this way out of habit. King Sombra leaped through the wall and emerged on the other side some 150 feet above the ground, Sombra plummeted exactly like a heavyset unicorn diving from a great height. Sombra hit the castle courtyard with all of his weight behind him: the impact did not even cause the grass to sway. Sombra trotted on, looking for any sight more interesting than the dreams he could have been having instead of this excursion.

Sombra sighted a nightguard trying to look busy despite the fact that nobody tangible was watching, Sombra recognized the guard as…Gottfried?...Graham?...Glenn – something that began with a G anyway. Sombra put his mighty snout a few inches from the guard’s ear, and shouted at the top of his lungs.

“GONAD!!!”

The guard turned His head to look this way and that as if he heard something, but soon returned to his glassy eyed patrol.

Sombra hadn’t expected much else.

Sombra made his way into the castle proper, he had decided with the barracks, but yielded nothing more interesting than his own guards: some sleeping, some polishing their helmets, all too boring for Sombra to bother himself with.

The grey unicorn wandered along deathly silent hallways that were scarcely warmer than ice: completely alone, even when he was present in this state the places that he wandered were still as empty as they had ever been, and since Sombra’s takeover the castle of Canterlot had an abundance of empty rooms.

Sombra heard the faintest moan from one such empty room, and placed his eyeball to the keyhole, he could just as easily have walked in to the room and performed a jaunty musical number for all the chance the rooms occupants had of seeing him, but if he was going to watch people fuck he was going to do it properly.

Private Donut let out a muffled groan of surprise as the griffons thighs clasped about his neck, but his tongue kept going to work on her birdbox, making moans slip from her beak, just as Donut thought she was about to cum again the griffoness pushed him away with her hind-legs, and rolled off of the grand piano onto her paws.

“enough with the tongue stuff dweeb” intoned the hen sultrily, “time for the main event” with that the griffon turned away from Private Donut and presented her hindquarters to the burly beige stallion.

“there’s just one more thing that’s puzzling me” said Private Donut, his mind lagging a bit behind his penis which throbbed beneath his belly “why didn’t you get GIlmore to fuck you?”.

The griffon looked back at Donut with growing impatience: “maybe I will If you don’t mount me already dweeb” said the griffon. “And I don’t feel like getting knocked up anyway, that would be lame”.

Donut was about to fuck her when another thought crept into his mind, and an odd one at that, it came with the strange discomfort of the sensation that a cat had just licked his heart. “don’t you feel like we are being watched” he said, the waiting vagina in front of him temporarily forgotten.

“yeah dweeb, it feels like that when you fuck in someone else’s bedroom” said the griffon, tapping her claws impatiently “we going to do this or can you not get it up?”

Not wanting to stand the accusation of having a limp dick, even if it was said as a clear tease Private Donut wastedno time in proving the griffon wrong. “Hey Gilda you know the difference between jam and jelly?” choogled Donut.

“What?” scoffed the griffoness.

Private Donut grinned a little “I can’t jelly my cock inside you.” With that Donut placed his hooves onto the griffons rump, and buried himself up to the balls in the Gilda’s snatch, making her cry out in pleasure.

“fuck! – you’re tighter than Pinkie” grunted Donut. as he withdrew and shoved himself home the last of his syllables being given a rather goofy inflection by his pleasure.

“And you’re bigger than King of the lame-o’s Sombra, now we can both feel special” said the griffon, her words bridging the gaps between the peaks of her pleasure.

“glad that he is not here to hear that” said Donut, the words brought an odd sensation that the king was right next to him comparing willy sizes, but Donut’s mounting pleasure quickly obscured that zany notion.

The words ceased, and the only sounds in the cold room were the wet slapping of Donut plunging in and out of the griffons tight cunt, and the grunts and Caws of both parties delight. Until.

“SKREEEEE- ONK!” the high pitched call of the griffons orgasm surely would have ruined any notion of discretion, but Gilda cleary didn’t care. Donut was not far behind, his tongue lolled from his mouth and his hot breath lingered in the cold air as he was pushed over the edge.

Just thirty odd foot of grunts later Donut jellied his cock up to the hilt inside Gilda’s birdbox, his shaft pulsed and twitched as his balls were emptied into the griffon, each pulse of ecstasy accompanied by an ugly grunt of satisfaction.

Donut slipped free, dragging a sloppy rope of cum onto the carpet as he withdrew his now flared tip, his softening penis shined with the Gilda's fluids.

The dream of king Sombra stood beside the spent stallion, and contemplated. He had been slightly annoyed by the griffon’s comment about the size of his yogurt hose, but Sombra was a monarch most magnanimous: he summoned little rancor at objectively true statements.

The glow in Sombra’s horn faded, and the ethereal ruler he had summoned fell away; dissipating into nothing without a sound. King Sombra trotted out room to find something more interesting. He didn’t hear all that was said behind him, but the word ‘dweeb’ floated past his phantasmal ear.

There was now a little more banter in his canter knowing that even in coldness and night his servants were enjoying Themselves. Sombra passed along yet more silent tunnels of ice, until he found the guest bedrooms.

He picked one makeshift cell at random, and passed his body through the door. An orange earth pony lay asleep atop the silken sheets of the bed. Sombra sniffed the air about her as best as he could; in this form his sense of smell was diminished by the inability of his ghostly lungs to drew air, but he could tell just the same.

“In heat I see.” Choogled the phantom king “be seeing you in the morning Applejack.”

With something to look forward to tomorrow morning, Sombra checked another cell to see how his heirs were coming along.

The cell held the yellow pegasus, the second of the mares he had impregnated, her belly was just beginning to swell with the foal he had put in her. Sombra moved closer in to investigate the mother of his child, she was a beautiful mare by any stallions metric, but she was not a creature Sombra could have loved as a wife: she was a worthy vessel for his heir, and a great pleasure it had been to make her a mother, but alas Sombra could only see her as breeding material, not loving material.

Sombra gentle pressed his snout to her growing belly, and whispered nothing in particular to his foal within, Fluttershy cooed gently in her sleep, her hooves moving to hold something that wasn't there, maybe the baby within her, perhaps a stallion that would never hurt her, perhaps just her old life of peace from before she met Sombra; but all those things were beyond her reach now.

The next of the cells held a cyan Pegasus whom Sombra was not surprised to find was awake and quite restless. Her estrus had subsided early, a sure sigh the she was pregnant: maybe her lingering heat made her lively at this late hour; it could as just as well have been anger at her defilement or pain from the bandaged wound where her ear used to be.

Whatever the case Sombra was glad that a mare so fiery was bearing his child, he hoped that fierceness would be passed on to his foal. Satisfied with the lay of the fertile land, Sombra moved on. He decided to bother with the formality of corporeality, instead simple wandering out through the nearest wall, which left him standing on air cold outside.

Sombra liked to wander far from his seat of power, It gave him a sense of the unformed freedom he had enjoyed when he had dwelt in wild places far from anybody: it was a hard kind of liberty, and not the kind of freedom he would give up completely for a crooked crown, but he had duties in his kingdom, and he could not be there in the flesh save for the free hours in which he slept. Maybe someday his rule would be so secure that he could wander beneath the untamed sky during waking hours, but today was not that day, and he knew from experience that often someday never comes.

Sombra marched on the wind to the rhythm of his beating heart so far behind him, as once again the false king of shadows trotted out into infinite space. In the quite of his bedchamber, the dampness on his hooves climbed just a little bit further up.

They had started the dig early in the morning, progress had been swift, the hooves of the ponies enslaved to do Sombra’s hoofywork worked fever pitch, spurred on by the whips of the Guards. It was a hot day, and nopony would have been here given the choice, but the guards at least had the conform of periodically dragging a slave off for ‘discipline”

Quartz prospect, the fore-pony of the whole operation was very excited at the digsite’s potential, and oversaw what progress they had made enthusiastically. He didn’t know why he chose to dig here, it was merely the product of some faint calling, he worked in mining to fuel Equestria for all his life, it was what his cutie mark had told him, but shorty after breaking ground he realized that there was more under this earth than coal and jewels.

The site sat below a small camp of ponies who had been fleeing the carnage in Appleoosa, which meant digging was a little faster for the extra slaves. Several slaves hadn’t got the memo, evidently preferring the rope over the whip. That had no fancy gallows here, and so they had made do with an oddly isolated apple tree, conveniently located were the slaves could see the fruits that resistance bore.

Quartz watched as a rope pulled an amber mare into the tree’s fruitful branches. she had bitten a guard as he had put his cock in her mouth; if she had just serviced him like a good mare she would gotten away with nothing much worse than the need to comb dried splooge from her ginger mane. Maybe it had all been a foolish attempt to keep her virtue and dignity, if that was the case it had backfired. Quarts watched as she began her last dance, as she bucked and flailed, the semen of half a dozen different stallions dripped from between the engorged lips of her mareparts, fertilizing the ground at the foot of the tree.

She had not been the only pony taken, a blue stallion had tried to run, but had been caught by one of the griffons: he was destined to swing alongside the mare just as soon as Quartz was done with him.

Quartz could just about hear the creaking of the mare’s rope above the sound of his balls rhythmically slapping Against the stallion’s ass. The stallion winced in pained when Quartz’s hooves grazed his fresh claw marks from when the griffon had been rough with him, but he did not express any obvious Discomfort from the cock pistoning in and out of his ass, this stallion was clearly familiar with getting fucked in the ass.

Some said that a stallion getting fucked in the ass was a sign of femininity and submission, such as might be inflicted on a stallion defeated in battle, a mere final act of violence and humiliation before the victim was disposed of, and not inherently lustful beyond the fact the it ending in orgasm. Quartz did not think so, he had taken a cock under his tail and had liked it, and he did not think himself less of a stallion for it, although he still preferred to be the one doing the fucking.

The stallion had already came when the griffon had used him, but the battering Quartz was giving his prostate kept his erect cock flopping beneath with every time Quartz lanced him, a sting of errant cum stills swinging from his tip.

Quartz has not far from orgasm, the sensation of the stallion’s tight, pulsating ring, sliding up and down his shaft with just brief moments of resistance as it passed repeatedly over his medial ring. While his tip plunged repeated into the loose warmth of the cavity beyond. It didn’t take long before Quartz was clenching his teeth with every thrust, and holding his breath as he worked himself closer to ecstasy.

Quartz jaw trembled as his gaped wide to make way for a bellowing groan of pleasure, Quartz’s balls tightened and the length of his penis throbbed in time with the ropes of seed he shot into the blue stallion’s ass. He lingered for a moment to regain his composure, before he pulled his softening cock free.

Quartz made his way back toward work now that pleasure was done with, as he went he looked over his shoulder, the blue stallion was allready being hoisted up next to mare: who’s face was turning as blue as the stallion’s. with a spasm and sudden release of muscle tension she embarrassed herself one last time before finally going limp, leaving the soil below her final resting place enriched.

The sun was shining down like water, making even ponies who were not digging sweat. But for all the heat the day brought The soil remained cold, and grew colder the deeper that they dug.

“Quartz!” called out a tall violet slavedriver, one of the few mares doing Sombra’s ground work.

“you know about geology right?” choogled the slavedriver: “care to explain this?” she said gesturing vaguely in a westward direction with her jagged stub of a horn.

Quartz followed the slavedriver over to were a few slaves had been digging, they now milled about looking as confused as their owners.

At the bottom of a newly dug exploratory pit which was filled with a few inch's of dark water, a single guard stood unmoving as a statue.

“Hey you down there!” shouted Quartz: “get up here before I get really mad!”. no reaction.

“okay, just what the buck happened here?” he said to the nearest slave.

The peevish slave swallowed before replying: “I just swung my pick, made a wee hole in the earth – and…and, all this cold black water started pouring out.”

“what happened to that guard” said Quartz, the slave replied: “He just kind of…stopped – like he was hypnotized or something.”

Quartz considered the guard in the damp pit, as used all of his substantial intellect to create a subtle, and masterful course of action.

“WAKE UP DIPSHIT!” shouted Quartz as he pitched a rock at the stationary guard.

The rock impacted the guard’s side, who shattered into pieces.

King Sombra’s eyes slowly opened, it was early evening by the look of the sun shining in the window, he felt cold despite the growing warmth of the day. King Sombra trotted from his bedchamber, leaving a trail of cold damp hoofprints along the way, he had recently developed a dislike for teleportation, and now considered walking a reasonable option.

He was on his way to the kitchens for a snack of some kind, while passing down another corridor he came face to face with flash sentry.

“Your grace” said Flash: “another one of your ma —“

“I know, I know, the apple is ripe” interrupted the passing monarch: “just make sure you get some-pony to bring her to me on your way to the kitchens.”

“K – K – K– k kitchens?” stuttered the guard.

“A place were food is prepared if you didn't know, they have plenty of grease traps to clean out I am sure, good luck” said the monarch as he departed.

A thought occurred to Sombra as he was trotting away.

“hey flash,” choogled king Sombra over his shoulder: “do my hooves look normal to you?”

“they look normal to me sire” said the guard formally.

Sombra gave no reply and continued his merry way down the hall, looking slightly concerned at the floor behind him for reasons flash didn't know.

Flash Sentry thought about those greasetraps, awful things, pits of decay and sin which had not been cleaned in all of Sombra’s reign

Flash mumbled to himself “A guard’s gotta do what a guard’s gotta do.”

Gilmore the griffon, and his compatriot Private Donut had been sent to retrieve the mare who had came into season. They had both tried to pass the task onto the other as they both knew handling a mare who was in heat would leave them with blue balls for the rest of their shifts.

They had debated rank, and had come to the conclusion that there was only two ranks in Sombra’s guard: ‘King Sombra’, and ‘everybody else’. Yes Donut was a private, and Gilmore had no named ranked, but Sombra had only dished out ranks based on how well they fit the persons name, it was largely a mystery if Donut outranked Gilmore or not.

The iconic duo arrived at the door to the cell, and Donut could smell the mares estrus from outside. The cell door swung in, reveling…an empty room.

“Huh?” said Gilmore as he peeked under the bed: “where is she?”.

“not inside this teapot” replied Donut, replacing the lid with a ceramic click.

“well…fuck” they both said in union.

Applejack washed the last of the dirt from her hooves in the water barrel, and considered her situation. No doubt the guards would find the tunnel she had used to escape, she had not constructed it, it had been there since the castle was built, it was not meant as an escape route, but rather a means for somebody to sneak in, and out of the room unseen. It didn’t lead out of the castle, but had instead took her to a forgotten wine cellar, ever other entrance to which had seemingly been sealed years ago.

She had had to dig a bit from there, but she was out now and that was what mattered. She would come back for her friends once she formulated a plan, but for the time being she needed a place to hide.

Applejack had made temporary refuge in a barely accessible gap between two buildings, which had opened up to a slightly larger space which had become something of a magnet for trash.

Applejack had been thankful for the trash, as amongst it she had found a…garment? that was just the opposite of revealing. Rough spun grey...wool?, and sufficiently large to cover her entire body more or less, including her mane, and cutie mark, and the pong of the thing would cover up the smell of her estrus. Perhaps it was an ancient artifact, a cloak of social invisibly, used by some secretive sect of homeless wizards.

The guards had brought her gruel while in captivity, but usually just the same few, that beige stallion who smelled of baked goods, or that snowy griffon that kept giving her weird bedroom eyes, applejack was never sure if he had wanted to fuck her, or eat her. Overall only a Couple of Sombra’s guard likely recognized her, her chances of being detected made even lower by the ugly garment she now wore.

It really was a masterfully hideous thing — amorphous — shapeless — eldritch even, she doubted even the most fashionably challenged Guard would want to look at her long enough for a positive identification. No wonder the Garment had been relegated to a trash heap, throwing this kind of thing into the garbage was just reintroducing it to its natural habitat.

Applejack had not gleaned much from the chattering of guards, looked in her gilded cage she had been as cut off from the current state of Equestria as a pony who had slept the changing of the world away like old Ripcord Van Winkle.

Applejack: midden scented master of disguise, decided to she what was happening on the ground with her own eyes. Venturing out of the small alley she seamlessly merged into the quite street.

Along her way she was shocked to she the fruits of Sombra’s work. As she passed the open mouth of an alley, she saw one of Sombra’s guards balls deep in a crying mare. She averted her gaze, and moved on as if she had seen nothing, the mares cries and the guard’s grunts of pleasure disappeared behind her. Of course she would have done something to stop if she could have, but right now she could do nothing.

In several places Applejack saw corpses hanging from ropes, on trees or over shop sighs, many ponies had spent their last moments dancing like puppets with one string. Whoever had put them there cared little for hygiene; ponies rotten beyond being recognized as anything more than homes for maggots, swung in the breeze alongside ponies which looked almost alive.

Applejack slowed as she recalled that both her brother Big Macintosh, and her cousin Breaburn had been captured, and unlike her and her friends, Sombra had no real use for them…

Applejack ducked into an alley and cried her heart out.

“and nobody saw her leave?” said king Sombra with surprising calm.

“No sire” replied Private Donut.

“well…fuck” exhaled the king. The basement that Sombra stood in must have been Sealed off from all access save for the panel they had discovered in Applejack’s cell. His mare had vanished, but the day was not all lost, he may have lost a breeding mare, but she had hardly been his favorite.

Life takes, and lives gives, you loose your mare, but you gain a wine cellar. Sombra’s had plans for Applejack, he still wore the painted on zebra stripes, and carried the banjo which he had intended to serenade the county mare with, dirt farming bumpkins loved the banjo and hated zebra’s, he had desires to juxtapose to two while he fucked her, but now he just felt stupid.

Applejack had given him blue balls without ever going near him.

“Do you want us to go find her” queried Private Donut.

“Of course I want you to fucking find her!” choogled Sombra back, up to his knees in cold water now.

Sombra needed a warm hole to fuck. he looked at Private donut’s retreating rear, then to his banjo, then back at Private Donut, then back to the banjo.

“Not in a million years” he said to himself, as he plucked a few notes pathetic bum-notes from his instrument.

The days passed uneventfully for Sombra, he had filed applejack’s escape into some part of the back of his mind, in matters of reproduction his thoughts were now firmly on waiting for the purple unicorn to come into season.

No matter how hard he tried his hooves remained damp and cold, leaving trials of wet marks wherever he went that nobody else could seemingly be convinced to notice.

Just as king Sombra was prepared for another night of cavorting as a spirit in the material world, there was a knock on his bedchamber door.

“enter” said the king as regally as he could with the weight of sleep baring down on him.

The door creaked open, and in its frame stood a black coated earth pony who Sombra recognized as Quartz Prospect, the pony whom he had placed in charged of finding – if the advisor was to be believed – the original king Sombra.

“Sire, we have found it.”

Applejack had found refuge in Canterlot with a pony she knew she could trust: Mrs Cake had happened to be in the city when Sombra took the reins of power, and ever since she had been worried to death about her husband in Ponyville.

She had not asked for anything from Applejack in return for sanctuary, but none the less Applejack was a country raised pony, and she felt obliged to help wherever she could, although the amount of tasks she could perform was limited by her need to avoid being seen, presently she was helping to roll out pastry for the production of hard tack, they had ingredients which could have forged any manor of food, but hard times called for hard foodstuffs.

“hey Applejack, would you mind getting some more water from the well?” said Mrs Cake.

Applejack didn’t mind the labor even at this late hour, but the minimal prospect of being caught on her way to the well troubled her slightly.

“And you simply must do something about this...garment” said Mrs Cake, gesturing with a hoof to the peg by the door which held the offending mass of fabric.

“I will put it one the washing line come morning if you wash it, but if it eats any of the other cloths there I am blaming you” said the plump blue mare.

Applejack noted that the current situation had done little to dampen Mrs cake spirit, maybe it was true what ponies said, maybe fat stored a supply of jolliness which could be fell back upon like that way it stored nutrients. Mrs cake was plumper than the average mare, although not close to being called a porker, and still attractive.

Perhaps it was some inner perseverance that kept Mrs Cake jovial, some essential spirit not born from experience, but innate to a being, like Rainbow Dash’s defiance, which Applejack had heard from the next cell over.

“how are you taking this so well?” asked Applejack, curious as to the source of Mrs cake’s optimism.

“mustn't grumble, I am sure princess Cadence will come with an army soon enough, and then everything will be back to normal” replied Mrs cake as if everything really was just fine.

Or maybe she had been backed into delusion from all the horror she had seen, thought Applejack, feeling slightly bad for having done so.

“I’ll be off to get that water then” said applejack as she made her way to the back door, leaving her hat on the hook as she slipped into the shapeless grey Garment.

The door closed gently behind the orange pony as she departed, and Mrs Cake was left to knead dough on her own.

There was a knock on the front door, Mrs Cake shook some of the flour from her hooves, and went to answer it. The door slowly swung open, and on the doorstep stood a snowy griffon.

Gilmore the griffon had not had any reason to choose this one house in particular, there had been little sigh of the orange mare to go on, so he had simply taken to searching houses at random, this one was going to be his last before he found a place to roost.

He was met at the door by a plump blue mare, who’s mouth dropped open as she saw him. Before she said a word Gilmore had pushed her into the house, and had pulled the door shut behind him with his tail.

“Hello, hello you wouldn't happen the be harboring any fugitives by any chance?” said Gilmore, he had used that line for every house he had visited, and he liked to think he had gotten rather got at reciting it.

“what? No I have nothing of the sort here, just me and my baked goods” said the blue mare hurriedly.

“Baked goods...” said Gilmore, his red eyes scanning the counter tops. “hard tack, pretty expensive if I recall” continued the griffon, crushing the piece of hard biscuit in his beak. As the crunch reverberated in his skull, it unearthed in his mind the phrase, ‘Polly want a cracker?’ the odd words seemingly being whispered into his ear by some ephemeral phantom which needed to shout to even be heard in this world. The whole sensation Gave the griffon a queer feeling, queer as in ‘strange’ not queer as in Quartz Prospect.

Gilmore stalked the perimeter of the room to take his mind off of whoever Polly was, all the while never taking his eyes off the blue mare, looking over her like a piece of meat in a butcher’s window. Gilmore liked the look of this mare, plenty of soft meat on her, and no doubt space for plenty of meat in her.

The griffon’s eyes were drawn away from those of the frightened mare, as an object of interest caught his vision. A hat was sitting on a hook by the door. Gilmore padded over and took the headpiece in claw, the slightly worn hat seemed familiar to him somehow, like a kind of thing he had paid only the most cursory of attention to, only for the need to recall precise details to be unexpectedly thrust upon him.

Gilmore held the had by its brim and turned it like the wheel of a ship, hoping it would guide him to a sudden realization of the objects significance which would make him feel quite the fool for not having divined its meaning sooner, but no sudden epiphany greeted the snowy griffon.

The hat’s appearance did nothing to inspire revelation in the avian, but there was a smell there, just the faint musky whiff of a mare in heat. He was sure of it. Griffon hens went into heat in much the same mare’s did, and the scent of mare’s estrus had similar, but lesser effects to a griffons arousal as that of a hen, Gilmore was very familiar with the musky scent.

“is this yours?” choogled the griffon in the direction of the plump mare, “doesn’t seem much like your style.”

The plump mare looked nervous “yes it’s mine, I wear it for gardening, and…stuff.”

The griffon took another sniff of the hat. “stuff?, it smells like you wore it while you were in season, that so some lucky stallion has extra grip?” said the snowy griffon.

The blue mare said nothing, but cast her head downward. Gilmore quickly padded closer until the blue mare’s rump pressed against the wall.

Gilmore raised her chin with his claw so that he could look her in the eyes, she had nice eyes. He stared for moment before he spoke.

“what is your name anyway?” choogled the griffon.

“Chiffon Swirl.” Said the plumb mare curtly, her eyes swinging away from the griffon’s in obvious fright. “but people call me ‘Mrs Cake’ - mostly.” Gilmore liked that name, ‘Chiffon’ a delicate fabric that look as good to touch as the mare who bore its name, and could be torn as easily in his claws.

“Well the cake needs a cherry on top” choogled the griffon. He gently placed the hat on top of Chiffon’s head, covering her pink mane.

“I was wrong” Said the griffon, “it does look good on you.” This comment made the mare blush a little. Gilmore wanted to put her at ease.

“Why was I here again?” said the griffon, “oh yes, harboring escaped prisoners.”

“No” quavered Chiffon, “none under this roof…Mr Griffon.”

“oh please Call me Gilmore” said the griffon. “gotta be sure of course.” The griffon Released Mrs cake, and in one swift motion tore the back door open.

Gilmore took a Brief patrol around the back yard, examining the well and the log pile, but he found no runaway mares, all the while pulling Chiffon Swirl behind him. The plump cerulean mare seemed mightily relived that he had found nothing more objectionable than an unkempt garden, but he still had a whole house to search, even if the effort was a mere formality at this point.

Gilmore dragged Mrs cake back through the kitchen, and onto the rest of the house. First was the den, which yielded no fugitives

After suitably brief examinations of both the bathroom, and the basement, the only place Gilmore had not searched was the bedroom. The door to the bedroom creaked open on rarely oiled hinges. Inside Gilmore found nothing more elicit than a bed, and a few other nighttime amenities.

Mrs Cake was greatly relieved that the griffon had found no sigh of Applejack. She could only assume the mare had seem him fly over, and she had thusly ran away or hid herself.

“Well, everything seems to be in order” concluded Gilmore. “well that’s it for my shift, time for bed.” With that the avian slid into the floral pattern linen sheets, a bird gliding gracefully into a field of embroidered flowers. Mrs Cake suspected that he wanted something more than sleep, and she would not have been sincere if she had said she was entirely unwilling to supply.

Gilmore did not seem so scary to Chiffon as he had when he came walking through the door, and he was by no means Unattractive, he had the grace of a predator, dangerous, and Cleary made to kill; there was a certain kind allure in that kind of creature.

“anything I can get you, before bed?” choogled Chiffon Swirl stiffly.

“I think I should enjoy some cake, I’ll add my own cream filling” replied the griffon smoothly.

Mrs Cakes hooves shuffled her inexorably toward the bed in tiny, beetle-like strides, while her face wore the expression of a mare drowning in the urge not to laugh her head off at how stupid Gimore’s invitation to sex sounded. Although she knew that was probably his intention. This griffon thought laughter was the best aphrodisiac, and Mrs cake had to admit he was onto something. She knew that he probably wouldn’t take no for an answer, and that she needed to keep him busy for Applejacks sake; none the less he was gradually kneading the dough of her apprehension into the sultry baguettes of desire.

The plump mare scooted onto the bed alongside the griffon until she was lying on her side facing him. For a while she just locked gaze with him, waiting for the avian to make to make the first move.

“these sheets” said the griffon, grabbing a claw full, “they are linen right?”

“Er…yeah” replied Mrs Cake, unsure of where he was going.

“linen” said Gilmore, “rough, bland, I much prefer Chiffon.”

Mrs cake felt herself smile a little bit at that, and she did not feel even the least bit uncomfortable as the griffon planted his claws about her sides and pulled her closer. She could feel his underbelly pressed against hers, a warm, slight tickly sensation as his feathers rubbed against her chest, and belly.

Chiffon felt a tugging sensation at the nape of her neck as the avian buried one claw in her mane and pulled her face closer to his. She parted her lips in expectation of a kiss, but Gilmore seemed more interested in nuzzling about her neck.

Mrs cake let out an elongated soft moan as the griffon took one of her ears in his beak and gave it a gentle suck, and a slight nibble. One of his paws slid down her soft underbelly leaving a trailed of ruffled fur, before coming to rest between her thighs. The sounds of Mrs cake’s pleasure grew sharper as the griffon rubbed the little pleasure button above her entrance.

Just as Chiffon felt that she was about to have a moment of extramarital bliss, the griffon stopped his ministrations at both her ends, and with a sudden blur of motion that made her head spin, Gilmore had flipped her onto her front and positioned himself behind. Her stimulated body reacted faster than her conscious mind, extending her knees to push her rump into the air, and raising her tail.

Chiffon’s delayed exclamation of surprise at the sudden rough treatment had scarcely left her lips before it melded with her gasp of pleasure as she felt the griffon push himself into her, her mareparts throbbed in delight at their sudden occupation. The griffon had slid inside with rough ease, and Chiffon only just realized how wet she had become.

She felt two claws grip the soft flesh of her cuties marks, and the griffon let out a satiated caw as he began to pump in and out of her with an increasing vigor. Mrs Cake felt a claw return to her mane, this time pushing her head down into the pillow, all the while Gilmore’s pace grew more savage, and his intonations more animistic, each sharp buck sending ripples across her plump ass.. Chiffon would have avoided being taken this way if she had been asked permission beforehand, but now that it was happening she began to realize how much she enjoyed an aggressive partner. For her to taken full control of, and thoroughly validated as mare that Stallion’s would abandon control and courtesy for. Being bred like an animal was giving her more pleasure than, any night of rose-scented gentleness, and she with the assistive action the griffon took her heart thumped faster. Maybe if her husband had been more like this his children would look like him.

The griffon was no less eager to express his enjoyment, over the maritime creaking of the bed and the wet slapping of his penis plunging in and out of her sex, the snowy bird cawed and Squawked with delight as he rutted her. Mr cake had liked to suppress his moans as he had thought that was a masculine way to behave, but Mrs knew now that she preferred to be fucked by somepony who was happy to express his pleasure as noisily as she did

Chiffon did not register how close she was to orgasm until she it was almost upon her, just a few more jabs of the griffon’s hips and she was pushed over the edge. Her vagina spasmed repeatedly against the cock inside it, and Chiffon buried face in the pillow as hot waves of carnal pleasure passed through her body, making her every muscle clench in time with the pulses of her orgasm. She screamed the pleasure into the pillow, her cry of ecstasy muffled, but still loud.

Gilmore grinned as the plump mare’s orgasm, proud of the loud Acknowledgment of his ability to make a mare cum. He was a ways behind her yet, but still every time his penis plunged into the pulsating warmth he could feel a pressure build in his belly. A milky pearlescent bead of his precum slid down the shaft of his cock and dripped off of his balls.

The griffon slipped out for a moment, the mare’s fluids which now glistened along the tapered length of his cock created a pleasant sensation as they begin to cool in the sex scented air of the bedroom, but his organ was not without accommodation for long. The blue mare gave a slight yelp as Gilmore flipped her onto her back, right in wet patch the had formed where she had been dripping.

Gilmore hissed blissfully as his once again buried himself in Mrs cake’s hot – dripping folds. He usually preferred to mate in the face to face position, most of the stallions who worked for Sombra liked to enjoy their Prey from behind, to push the victim’s face away and reduce them to nothing more that warm hole to empty their aching balls into: an impersonal act.

It was true that it was easier to make a mare orgasm from behind, and Whether Gilmore was taking a female by forced or with consent he liked to watch them orgasm, but he enjoyed it even more to look them in the face as they succumbed to orgasm, to watch the little twitches and trembles which were unique to each mare’s cum face. Looking into a mare’s eyes made it so much more intimate than treating somebody just as a warm hole and then a warm meal.

The sharp points of Gilmores agape beak pressed into each side to plump mare’s neck, and he could feel her racing heartbeat in the hard surface of his beak - an organ designed to rip out throats and tear bodies into bite size chucks. Chiffon’s eyes were closed in pleasure and she seemed only to register the deadly organ pressed against her neck as another caress.

The blue mare’s eyes half opened, as Gilmore removed his rostrum from her neck and introduced it to her lips. Her hooves gripped more firmed about Gilmore’s neck and shoulders as his slick tongue pushed against hers. The griffon took each of Mrs cake’s hooves in a paw and gently, but forcefully pushed them into the soft bed at each side of the mare’s head. All the while not parting from her lips.

Gilmore was close now and he could feel his orgasm crawl its way from his balls and further up his length every time he poked into Chiffon’s snatch. His tongue dominated hers in the arena of her mouth, the rough, but intimate treatment shortened the gaps between her groans of pleasure, Gilmore broke the kiss just as she came. Her rear legs clamped to the small of his back and her body writhed beneath him as her climax was announced by her mouth.

“Gi – Gil – AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!” shouted Chiffon as she came.

The Spasms of her sex were sufficient to finally send Gilmore into paroxysms. He gritted his beak, and his plumage stood on end as his orgasm arrived. His penis twitched inside the Mare’s pussy as the griffon pumped several ropes of hot seed against her cervix, each one accompanied by a jolt of pleasure which made the avian chirp in ecstasy.

Gilmore stood over the blue mare for a moment as he regained his breath, before allowing himself to gently collapse onto her soft body. Gilmore looked into Chiffon’s eyes which to his surprise still look pretty even after he had nutted.

The kite-Andean griffon and the cerulean earth pony exchanged no words, and after a while the griffon rolled off of the mare onto his side. The sun had set outside and his work of searching for Fugitives was done for tonight, he would rest now.

Gilmore wrapped his arms about Mrs cake and pulled her warm body close to him, so that his head rested in the crook of her neck. She was as snuggleable as she was fuckable, and Realizing that Gilmore brought his wings in to assist his arms – Mrs cake was a Compact pony, and Gilmore was a big bird so the embrace effectively left her cocooned in a snowball of white feathers.

“what a lovely bird.” Thought Mrs cake as she began to drift into sleep. “I wonder how Applejack is doing.”

Applejack had seen the griffon drifting in slow circles above as she had been about to start working the pump of the well. She had read in a book that a griffon’s sight was excellent, but that they tended to ignore stationary objects. that old book may have been her salvation, as she had stopped herself a moment before breaking into a run when she recalled the writing. Maybe books had more use than hanging in the outhouse after all, after all that one might have prevented her from...hanging in the outhouse.

She had sneaked away slowly once she had seen the griffon land at the other side of the house – she had heard his name at some point...Giuseppe?...Griggs?...Gilium?. She tried not to think about what horrors the beast was inflicting Mrs Cake, Applejack might have cried for her, but she had used up her entire allotment of country tears in that alley. Maybe the griffon just searched her house and left if Mrs Cake was lucky, but more likely the griffon had torn out her throat, as soon as he was done with her, griffons really were no better than zebras.

Applejack drew herself deeper into the shapeless mouldy abyss dimension of the Garment. This was not over, she would come back – for her friends – for her country – and for her hat. Life on an apple farm had taught her to never stopped fighting, and she never would.

King Sombra sat on his haunches once again in darkness and cold, but only that of the empty throne room at night. He stared at what he had been made to search for all this time. He had made himself a crown the day he had decided to sire heirs, and had used the elements of harmony to do so, he had melted their metal and craft them into a jeweled coronet. It was lumpen and crooked, for he would have no one else make a crown for him, and his was no craftspony.

He placed the crown onto the seat of the throne. And held the other one...was this all that the advisor had meant by the first King Sombra? The grey stallion’s crown had been of both silver and gold, and even for it’s lack of form, it spoke of wealth and power. The crown of the first King Sombra could not have been its kin. An unadorned black circle of a metal so dark it cold have been a hole in the world, its only jewel a tiny green star of a jewel. no matter how long Sombra held it it did not warm to his touch, it just ate the heat of his hooves. A circle of ice as cold as the gulf between stars, and to Sombra’s mind it belonged in a place so unwelcoming and distance.

Kind Sombra held the crown above his head and felt the cold dampness which had reached above his knees climb faster to reach it. It was inches from his head when he stopped. The throne room was not so empty as before. The king’s coronation had gained an audience.

It was perhaps the only time the crowning of a king was attended only by other kings. They were of many species, griffons – ponies – dragons – a yak, at some point a beast of every paw had feather had done the same as Sombra as about to. None so recent as to have been known in anything by legend.

For the variety one would have expected for such a crowd, they where all united in darkness. Here a once colorful Pegasus stared with mily eyes, his coat soaked in dark water which had washed all life from him. There, a dragon sat like a whale carcass at the body of the sea.

Sombra trotted over to greet his subjects...no, his predecessors.

“Who were you?” he asked the Pegasus.

The Pegasus did not move, but spoke in a voice creaking with the weight of time.

“I was...a king...I rule the kingdom of...the Pegasus...death of unicorns...I rule...I rule...I will rule – the empire of...the Pegasus...my advisor told me...rule...rule...crown.” The soggy little king trailed of into meaningless fragments.

“What was you name” asked Sombra Slowly and clearly as if to be heard across millennia.

“Som...Somb...I am the king...” the voice of the Pegasus little more the ripples in the water of sea of time.

Sombra tried another, the dragon this time. “And just who are you?”

the dragon’s voice was deeper in pitch than the pegasus king but not less deep in its quality of being of the some dark abyss.

“you will kneel to me pony...for I am king...ki...Sombra, eternal ruler of the dragon lands...who are these people? Why can my flame not warmth this cold...why can my fire not dispelled the dark...what is this place?” the dragon spoke more clearly than the Pegasus but with no more meaning.

“I see...” whispered the grey stallion to himself. These kings might have been proud and perhaps he would be seen as such by the next to wear the crown of shadows. Or maybe not.

The crown stuck the tiled flood with a loud metallic clang, the echos of which caused the past king Sombras to dissipate like cobwebs in the wind. And then there was one. The throne room doors slammed behind him, and there was none.

The darkness poured out of crown like water, It wanted a warm body, but it could make do without.

Twilight is bound to sparkle.

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.

Darkness and Cold.

King Sombra, once of the cold northern plains and now the king of all the land slumbered, he had not made it to his bed this time – so urgent was his desire to sleep. He had found that as he walked the waking world in his sleep, his mind was so much clearer that it had become in recent days, the cold fog had been lifted and when he looked at his sleeping form he could see no sight of sodden fur or dripping cold...he looked fine really. He was breathing normally and for all the world looked like a peacefully sleeping gray stallion.

Whatever the Shadow had done to him, it seemed only to cling to his body, and once he stepped outside it Sombra could see clearly, like looking at your house from outside after so long indoors. Sombra passed through the stone wall of his room as easily as had had on every other night, but something felt different about the castle tonight, he should have been happy – it had scarcely been an hour since he had fucked that purple mare. He could not put a hoof on it, but something was very wrong with the castle, It felt like some great mass was hanging over the castle: so unfathomable that the force it exerted upon the world was dragging him toward it.

The king drifted to the ground of the courtyard like snow. All seemed normal to gaze upon – horrible to most ponies eyes and ears, but not abnormal under his rule and certainly not the source of his concern. A few of his guards wandered about lazily and Sombra wondered if they knew truly of the influence that his corruption of the crystal heart had placed over them. Sombra passed through the closed gate of the courtyard and into the silence beyond – it was dark inside and getting darker.

Once he had drifted far enough into the silent castle Sombra arrived at his destination, an unassuming wooden door which the king passed thought as easily as any other. He had thought that maybe the source of unease was the Crystal heart, it certainly had the power to effect a ponies mind from a great distance, but locked in its vault Sombra found it to be just as he had left it: the essence of the magic which the advisor had given him swirled at the heart of the blue crystal, turning the ponies who had held close admiration for the heart into his servants, each one had mistaken the heart’s influence over them as some kind of loyalty to the usurping king, and with all pretense driven away they had acting on their impulses for sex and violence which had always been there.

The heart was as Strong and unchallenged as Sombra’s own, clearly Some thing else was making him feel uneasy. Sombra’s thoughts wandered to his crown, he had sent his favorite lackey to fetch it, but he had yet to bring it to him – perhaps having his crown once again on his head would make him feel better. While of course he could not hope to retrieve his crown while he was walking outside his own body, he could at least see what was taking Flash so long.

The advisor was of concern, even if he still lingered in the throne room Sombra knew that even that cold shadow could no more see him in this state than anybody else, but he had no reason to even believe the Shadow had any power without the crown which Sombra had denied it. The more time that passed without Sombra talking to the shadow the more he felt that it had no power at all and that all he had seen inside the throne room had only existed inside his mind.

The trip felt long even though Sombra could pass through walls. Along the way he saw many familiarly faces, but none saw him. All those which the king saw seemed as disconcerted by the strange cold silence which had befallen the castle as he was – he was glad if the periods of empty space between the occasional guard.

Eventually king Sombra Found his way to the hall in which lay the entrance the throne room The cold sensation was oddly stronger here. Sombra saw that the heavy wooden door to the throne room was shut firmly, but that was no problem he Simplly walking into the solid surface and…

“GET OUT!” The voice of the Advisor blasted forth from the room beyond the door, the cold front ripping Through Sombra’s ethereal body, Dispersing the Ethereal mist that was king Sombra like leaves before a hurricane. Sombra let out a silent scream as he was violently cast back into his own body.

His eyes shot open, and he was in his bedroom again, his awakening had been no more sudden than any normal return of consciousness, but nether the less his mind still spun in sudden terror. Sombra looked about his bedchamber and saw that all around him was darkness, and all he could feel was cold.

Applejack crept along the Empty halls of the castle, she had seen death, and she had seen defilement, but this was altogether different – violence and rape were terrible things, but natural as the earth and sky, acts of living creatures brought on by desires of the flesh. In the dark arteries of the castle the air itself seemed to be drained of life with every passing minute, a force which was totally indifferent to life and death, Applejack felt that although there couldn't be anything to truly fear, this place was becoming home to force that would not rape and kill, but would extinguish life without even noticing it was there.

Even as she passed down cold, empty corridor's Applejack’s purpose did not falter, she was going to rescue her friends and neither fear of King Sombra nor dread at whatever had become of this corpse of canterlot castle was going to stop her. Applejack was not as familiar with the layout of the castle as the others had been, she was a country earth pony and thus she liked to register visits among the glittering vaults of her betters as lost time. It was a matter of class. Soon she passed into a corridor that she knew, This was one of the halls which she had been dragged through on her way to the cells, as she had passed she had seen through the gap of a door several guards surrounding...something, curiosity got the better of the orange mare, and she decided that she must know what had had Sombra guards so enthralled back then.

The door yielded to just three bucks, Applejack would have been concerned about the noise of splitting wood, but it seems like there was nobody in the castle to hear it. Inside the small room beyond the dust and splinters Applejack saw it. The Crystal Heart. She could not fathom why Sombra had kept such an artifact of the goodness of the crystal empire. She could feel the magic radiating from it – washing over her, but not touching her as if she was not the target that the magic was seeking, the feeling made her feel unwelcome even within the confines of the castle.

Applejack turned her face away from the crystal heart, and away from the joy it inspired, this was not the time for that. The country mare walked and walked so far among silent tombs that she might have called the journey a trek – when She found the place she had been searching for; the holding cells.

Applejack made doubly sure that she was even more quite than her surrendering as she examined the stark wooden doors, behind one she could hear the faint sound of a mare crying – Rarity’s cell Applejack concluded. Applejack maneuvered herself to the nearest door as gingerly as she, could and with the vegetable slowness of the root of an apple tree – pulled on the handle.

The door creaked louder than AJ was comfortable with, but did not open. Tentatively – Applejack pressed her lips to the bottom of the door.

“Hello. Are you awake in there? I have come back to help.”

The small voice, as concerned for silence as her own replied from beyond the door.

“Applejack...Is that you?” Applejack recognized the voice to be that of twilight.

“yeah it’s me sugar-cube.” replied the country mare a little bit of joy in her whisper as heard her friend. “ah’ am here to get you out.”

“Applejack – listen.” interjected twilight, “Sombra did something to the crystal heart, its making the guards...” now it was Applejack's turn to interject.

“We can worry about that later...” Applejack's words of reassurance trailed off as she felt somehow that the space behind her was not so empty as it had been the minute prior. The sensation of cold terror made her mane stand on end.

Applejack was rooted to the spot, until the urge to act overcame the sensation that she really did not want to know what was behind her. Applejack spun on her pastern and faced the hall behind her. The sensation of terror evaporated as soon as the country pony came face to brick face with the blank wall behind her.

Applejack let her breath out in a cold cloud which lingered in front of her for a few moments. Now that the fear behind her had been dispelled Applejack turned back to the door.

Again Applejack whispered under the door, “it’s okay, Sugar-cube, do you know were the key to this door is?”

Twilight’s voice came out from under the door in a slow flat, strained tone. “Applejack...was someone standing behind you? It just that I heard you spin and gasp”

“it’s okay sugar-cube,” Replied Applejack in as a reassuring tone as she could whisper. “ah’ just thought that something was behind me, but it’s gone now.”

“applejack...” whispered twilight

“yes sugar-cube...” prompted applejack.

Twilight’s next words were even more strained and quite than before.

“I think it’s in here now.”

A noise far less subtle, but no less alarming reached Applejacks ear, the clattering of hooves just about to round the corner. Applejack new that she could not save her friends if the guards found her, but nether the less found it hard to leave twilight; just before the first guard round the corner Applejack got hold of her own reins and slipped into the only hiding place in sight – the cell were she had been held not so long ago.

Private Donut rounded that corner, his member already at half mast – mourning wood. Much to the surprise and delight of the castle guards Sombra had allowed them access to the mares that he had already impregnated, except the blue Pegasus who was much too fiesta, and the purple unicorn, who he had fucked too recently to tell if she was with foal. Private Donut wrenched open the door to the cell containing The pink earth pony. The pink mare tried all in vein to grasp onto the bedpost as Donut pulled her out of the room and into the corridor. Just as hurriedly as he had brought the pink mare out – two other guards had their hooves on the pale unicorn and The yellow Pegasus.

“it’s cold in the hall,” announced Donut “put these mares in that cell which had the country bumpkin in it, shame she got away”

The other guards had also been feeling the cold and so were only so eager to find a more Comfortable place, before they staved off the strange cold with the heat of mareflesh.

An engorged penis flopped between the legs of every randy stallion as the mares were shuffled into the vacant room, Donut himself could feel his heart begin to race, and his own organ began to fill with pulses of blood in the primal anticipation of mating.

The Pink one was the most feisty of the bunch – she bit and kicked at her captors, even as the first of them bent her over an ornate credenza and buried himself under her tail – the sound of the guard’s gasp of pleasure mixing with the sound of Pinkies cry of anguish, that was when the tears began.

The white unicorn, most obviously pregnant of the mares had no fight left in her, and marched head down wherever the guards directed her, she barely even made a noise as her legs were spread apart, and a stallion pushed his way into her thoroughly uninterested vagina.

The yellow pegasus on the other hoof held back no emotion, and was already in tears as soon as she was pushed into the room. Donut knew which mare he would be using for his relief. The mare Squirmed and writhed, but did not dare try to push Donut away as he loomed over, She was not In heat, but nether the less Donut could smell her sweet aroma – her fear, the scent even of the tears that rolled down her cheeks, the scent of her cowering femininity Was making Donut’s Manehatten heart beat faster, and a bead of white began to form on his already throbbing shaft.

The sounds were no less arousing to the beige stallion, Fluttershy herself let out little but a gentle whimper, but the room was far from silent, the cold silence was being driven out by the sounds of the guards using the mare’s, the whole din made Donut yearn to add to them with his own.

The wet slapping of the stallion repeatedly plunging into Pinkie, the pink mare’s own ugly sobbing being covered over by the stallions own loud, shuddering moan as he hilted himself into her cunt – his tail twitched and his stomach contracted in rhythm with the pulses of his ejaculation. The stallion slipped free – his shaft shiny with the mares fluid, and a string of semen lingered on his flared tip for a second before falling onto the fine carpet. There was agap in pinkie’s cry as if she thought that her ordeal might have been over, but no sooner had the stallion left than another took his place behind the bawling mare.

Rarity was as resolutely quite as if she had been robbed of her voice, Donut could see that she would be making no sounds even if her mouth had not been full.

Donut pressed his snout into the side of fluttershys neck, her could feel just below her skin the pulse of her blood raising with each of his ministrations. Donut was not the kind of stallion who cared for much needless ceremony while he was fucking mares, he let loose a pleasured groan as he pushed himself into the Pegasus with more care than he had with mares that he hadn't been concerned with leaving undamaged. Fluttershy’s genitals had been about as dry as he had expected when he had entered her, the dryness of her unwilling sex against his cock caused her innermost flesh to be pulled back and forth with each of Donuts’s thrusts –tentative as they were, but now the mare was growing wet like they always did: with the growing slickness Donut felt that he could be less careful with his thrusts, but that did not mean that he intended to leave out the talking which so many ponies like to partake in while fucking.

Fluttershy had almost come to forget the shame and pain of the violation which she had received at the hooves of Sombra, it seem to her – in the many days she had spent in her cell that as her belly grew, it seemed that the pain of the act that had put it there grow more faint and distannt. But all if a matter of seconds it was back, a different place, and a different stallion, but all the same terror. It was all She could do to not scream for the mercy which would not come from the beige stallion any more than it would have come from King Sombra. She did not intend in giving him any more satisfaction than that he would get from raping her.

The stallion’s hot. ragged breath passed Fluttershys’s ear, carrying with it a whisper that only she could hear midst the sounds of her friends being violated, and the moans of pleasure of stallions. The stallion paused his thrusts to speak – still buried up the his balls in Fluttershy’s shamefully aroused mare-parts, which still spasmed slightly at the same pace the stallion had been thrusting.

“Hey, wanna hear a secret from me before you here it from everybody else?” choogled the beige stallion blissfully. Fluttershy offered him no response.

“The king has decided that only the purple mare will be the mother of his heirs” Continued the burly stallion, through teeth gritted in carnal pleasure.

“W-W-W-W-W-What?” Fluttershy managed to intone.

The beige stallion who Fluttershy noted smelt faintly of pastry goods gave a small chuckle and gave Her a sharp thrust which made her squeak in unwanted pleasure.

“That’s right. The king only wants foals from his chosen queen” explained the stallion, “Once we are done here, you are all going to feed the pigs!”.

“B-b-b-b-but, my baby...” Fluttershy blubbered, as her tears swelled to new torrents – surely that could not have been true, surely all this suffering could not have been for nothing?

The stallion behind her began to jab into her vagina faster as if the scent of her fear was as arousing to him as if she had been in heat. Fluttershy’s own her arousal was not less shameful to her now as it had been when the stallion behind her had been Sombra – she could feel herself getting close to orgasm even if she would never allow herself to admit that her body enjoyed this treatment.

“Just foaling around — AAAAH...FUCK!” had the mare not been already pregnant Donut might have Hilted himself inside her out of some instinctive reflex to maximize the chances of impregnation – But since the mare’s womb was already in use he paid his biological inclinations no mind. The wild thrusts of his orgasm let to his penis flopping free of the mare’s cunt after only one pulse of ejaculate had entered her. by the time Donut’s penis was done flaring and twitching Fluttershy’s hind quarters had been painting in streams of white which dripped down her cutie marks.

Fluttershy was left empty as the stallion dismounted, but it made no difference to her sorrow – in moments a snowy griffon had replaced him, this violation knew known barriers of species and the tears on her cheeks did not change nor burn less just because the semen inside her was of a different species.

Rarity was still resigned to her fate in relative silence, the only noise that game from the pregnant mare’s mouth was a stifled moan as she was made to orgasm – muffled as it was due to her mouth being full.

Pinkie, ever the extrovert was less inclined to hide the pleasure of her body, and she squeaked and moaned occasionally through her tears as her pussy was made into an instrument of relief for stallions. But once each of the males had emptied his balls into the hole for his choosing there was no longer any need for the mares to be let free of their cages.

Each pregnant mare was dragged back into her cage with as much care as when she had been removed from it – the whole event having lasted only perhaps 20 minutes.

Under the bed – Applejack seethed at what she had seen the ankles of Sombra’s guards do to the ankles of her friends, she was impressively angry- but could not express it for fear of attracting attention. The room was empty now, but the act still lingered on like hoof prints in dirt – the patches of rapidly cooling fluids, the ruffled bedsheets – and around it all the scent of sex – sweat, fear, semen and satisfaction.

Applejack peering into the hall beyond tentatively, as much as the stallions had been terrible, it had been a natural kind of terror, a brutality inspired by the flesh of its practitioners, with a clear goal, a reason – a warm, lustful kind of horror which left blood on the battlefield and semen in wombs – and for a moment it had displaced the disquieting dark which now returned like water filling in the wake of a single warm body sinking into a lake of infinite cold.

The hall was empty save for the distant sound of retreating hooves like slow raindrops on the roof of the world, and all too soon those were gone leaving nothing but darkness and cold. Cautiously the orange mare crept down the cold halls; the fire of applejack's anger had met with the damp cold of the castle – turned into the bitter ashes of sadness and the country mare did not even check the cell doors in the hope that guards had left them unlocked in haste. Instead she headed for the Crystal Heart.

Sombra felt oddly weightless as he trotted down the silent corridor – as if when the Shadow had cast him back to his body all of his fear and concern that had been weighing him down had been left in the space between waking and dreams and now he knew clearly what he needed to do – the fog was gone and even if he was still soaked in black he could see as well as his days in the icy plains. He had a goal again, like when the crown had been his aim – he did not know how he was going to achieve it, but he knew that he must try.

He dared not teleport less he be intercepted again – Sombra placed little trust in the magic that the Advisor had given him, all that he could really on was his will, and what power he gained on his own.

Soon King Sombra...no...no longer a King just Sombra – Found himself trotting past a window, He stopped to take a look at the outside world; not a cloud in the black sky but he could see no stars and it was snowing the first snow of the upcoming winter – a winter that might never turn to spring, the sun was setting, but The creaking shadow would see that it never rose again.

Snow on the outside, even colder within the castle, Sombra’s mind looked back to a time of warmth divorced from temperature.

The gray stallion stood on a peak of cliff, the end of his snowy world, in his arms there was his lavender mare. The sky was black, but on the horizon a pink and orange sun was starting to peak over from the underside of the world. His lavender Mare sighed as she let out a breath weaker than the last. But still strong enough to carry words.

“Don’t linger after me when I am gone, find another mare” she said

“I could not love them as much as I have loved you” replied the gray stallion with little emotion as he looked into the sun.

The Mare seemed to consider for a moment before she spoke again.

“I wish our foal could have been here to see this” she said as her fading eyes followed Sombra’s gaze to the dawn.

Sombra said nothing, but gently stroked one hoof across the mare.

“what should I do now?” asking the gray stallion to nobody in particular.

“Find another love, have a family, don’t let me keep you in the past” Said the mare, her voice growing more weak with every syllable, but not lacking levity.

The gray stallion looked further into the sun and was silent for a time until…

“what if she Dies too?” said Sombra, up until now he had not dared speak the word death to his beloved.

“Don’t worry...” said the mare as her eyes began to close. “Every light has to go out Sometime.”

The sun rose and the wind continued to blow as ever it had in the clear orange morning, it looked like it was going to be another fine day. And only Sombra was there to see it.

In time, another voice drifted over the snow, from behind Sombra the words came – creaking like strained ice sheets.

“A crown has its price.”

Applejack could have sworn that she remembered the way to the Crystal Heart, In fact she did swear.

“Where the fuck am I?” whispered the orange mare under here breath, to avoid alerting whatever...presence filled the halls. Those hall which seemed to have moved while she had been away, From the corner of her eye she saw a door, and skidded to a halt, and skidded further than she had anticipated – The flagstones had ice on them.

Half expecting the wooden door to be just another broom closet, Applejack felt a little bit of joy when she saw that beyond the door was indeed the Crystal Heart.

It looked no different than when Candace and shining had brought it Canterlot on its yearly tour, but even as its appearance was quite unchanged it was nevertheless very different from what it had been before. Applejack was an earth pony who know little of magic, but she could feel some kind of dark power washing out of the thing in waves.

The country pony circled the Heart slowly – the way a Timber-wolf circles a deer, the way a worm sizes up a frightened apple, Like how the last of soap bubbles circle the shower drain. Tentatively Applejack reached out for the Heart, it looked fragile; it felt fragile, it would take so little of a push to send it toppling from its pedestal.

“So this is how Sombra got the guards to do what they have done all over the place?” Muttered Applejack to herself as she Pushed her hoof ever so slightly against the Heart

“Yes that's right” Came a voice from Behind her.

Applejack spun on her hoof as soon as her mind registered the foreign words, and Came snout to snout with King Sombra.

She froze in abject terror.

“Yes – the heart, that is what I used to turn the guards to my will” Said King Sombra conversationally “I suppose that you are here to rescue your friends?”

Applejack nodded, but shuffled back in fright from the Stallion that had cause her and equestria so much anguish.

“Yeah...” proffered the country mare.

The King smiled a bit sheepishly, his horn glowed purple for a moment, and a small explosion of purple smoke happened between him and Applejack. Something jangled onto the floor.

Applejack Look down and saw that It was a set of keys.

“I imagine You will be needing those for your friends.” Said the gray stallion.

Applejack’s fear was replaced by bafflement: was this some kind of trick? Had he been expecting her this whole time?

“Why?” asked Applejack.

The king turned away toward the door.

“I don’t think this world needs a ruler so cold” Choogled Sombra.

“But what about the guards?” Said Applejack.

“I don’t think they will bother you much now” Replied the gray stallion. Sombra raised a hind leg, and with one sharp motion – calmly pushed the Dark Heart from its platform.

Applejack leaped to the side before the Heart hit the flagstones, for all the magic in the heart it fell like any other object, as it hit the Cold stone floor there was a bright burst of light which left Applejack’s vision filled with dark blue spots, and and crash like the stamping of giants heels. Once her eyes and ears had recovered from the shock there was nothing left to be seen of the heart save for glistening shards: none any larger than common peddles.

The magic that Applejack had felt pouring from the heart was gone like an interrupted dream, And the orange countrypony was left alone. King Sombra was nowhere to be seen. Applejack did not linger long among the shards, not while her friends were still imprisoned.

The rooms that contained her friends were soon empty.

Sombra stood before the heavy wooden gates to the throneroom – unmoving, as still as his first foal had been born. Whatever happened, Sombra would make the shadow see the sunrise, he intended to follow the fading light to whatever end.

As easily as the shadow at cast hi m away before this time he was armored in his flesh, and could not be dispersed as easily as a dream. The dream was over and he felt awake for the first time in forever.

Sombra looked over himself, his fur was dry and warm.

He let out his breath and pushed the great door inward – and from the gap rushed a wall of cold air, such a cold Sombra had never known. He held his eyes shut until the blizzard was over. Inside the throne room was much as he had left it, but Sombra had never shivered so as he had made his way to his throne in any of the millennia past. He was not alone with the dark, to the right of the room stood Flash sentry, as still as the empty void, in his hooves was the plain band of dark metal which they had found beneath the earth.

Sombra stood before him and looked into the unicorns eyes: glazed over with frost. Sombra thought that perhaps he should go, find another place in the world like he had before, but there was no running this time.

“A king’s gotta do What a King’s gotta do” Said Sombra, turning away.

Sombra felt the air stir above him and turned his eyes skyward, and saw for the first time his advisor.

A black mass deeper than any shadow, formless beyond whatever shape it needed at the time. Writhing among the rafters like Black oil floating in clear water. And in the Center, a baleful green eye.

“Come for your Crown, like the others all did” Spoke the Empty air in the room.

Sombra thought for a moment before he replied “No...I have come for yours.”

“You're too late,” Choogled the darkness “You know that there is nothing which you can do now, I can see into your mind, and if you had put on the crown, I would have your body.”

The crown...yes the Crown, thought Sombra. The crown made of the Gems that the mares had tried to use against him.

Sombra Ran for the throne, he ran before the Shadow could read his intentions, it seem to work it first, but has Sombra got to full gallop the Shadow seem to realize his plan.

Mere hoofsteps before the crown Sombra felt the cold strike like a sword, his muscles becoming numb in an instant, and he began to topple forward as the cold rushed over his body like an avalanche.

Sombra leaped from his own body. Barely missing a step.

His Ghostly form landed at the foot of the throne, without even looking back. Sombra condensed every part of his will into his hooves and reached for the Crown of the elements of harmony – And made contact, he could not lift the crown but never the less he held it. He looked into the Heart of the magic of the thing, but found that he could not make the magic move. And as much as he tried the Elements would not work for Somebody such as him.

The darkness closed in all around him, if only the bearers of the Elements had been here.

But Sombra Struggled to find a way to make the connection, and he found it. The foals, The foals he had in the wombs of the 5 mares. Not all six but perhaps it would be enough. It would need to be enough.

The King reached forth to the his unborn children with what little magic he could muster, and made them the bridge between his spectral form and that mares that carried them.

The elements glowed faintly and Sombra stoked the fire of their energy as best he could with his magic.

Just as the darkness closed over him it happened A great flash of light so bright that Sombra could feel it pass through him as easily as he could have passed Through the air. The Blast so great that the Enclosing dark was pushed away like air

All was White, the hot white of interior of the sun, with no sight of shadow to be seen, and In the centre of it all the Shade of Sombra fading to even less than a ghost before the light.

‘Every light has to go out Sometime’

The halls blurred by the six mares as they ran for the nearest door, they had crept in the darkness like Applejack had until all at once the cold the feeling of terror seem to vanish as if it had never been there.

A guard stumbled by, and for a moment they all back up – the stallion shuffle around like he was drunk and for a moment he seemed not to see the six mares.

“Where am I? Who are you? Who am I? Why does my head hurt?” The stallion spun on his heel as if to flee the other way but fell into a crumpled heap as soon as he stepped.

“Yeah nice to meet you too...” Said Applejack. “Hey you wouldn't happen to know the way out?”

“Third on the left, four doors down” Mumbled the stallion into the carpeted floor.

The six mares moved on led by applejack, as they passed the collapsed Guard Fluttershy Whispered “Thank you.” Quietly. Rainbow Dash just kicked him.

Soon the gate was before them, They could all see that just outside of it, the sun beginning to rise.

Sombra Stood in the wreckage of his throne room, It was still cold, but the warmth was returning. In time Sombra walked back over to where his body lay, and stepped back inside. Except that he did not, his body, so long the most tangible thing in this world of waking dreams, had became as insubstantial as any door had been.

He looked over his form laying there sleeping like he had so many times. Waited to see his own chest rise and fall, or for him to stir in the night – except that he was not breathing. His body was the only thing in the room that was getting cooler.

He might have said Something, had there been somepony there to listen. But instead he just stood there in silence. He had longed wondered what it would feel like for his body to die while he was elsewhere. He could already feel himself beginning to fade away at the corners. He might have stayed to see would become of his Kingdom, but he had other places to be.

He floated out of the room of the castle. Once far above the world he turned toward the distannt northern plains – just beginning to be touched by sunlight. Even as he travel there he could feel his form spreading out -diffusing faster the further he went from his body, by the time he was far enough out to touch the top of the snowy mountains even his thoughts were distant from eachover. His mind no more that a vague force now.

He settled to the ground like a fresh coating of evening snow, across all the space were he had spent his best years. His last coherent thought was of her.

King Sombra had galloped out to the stars. And the years passed by without him.

“Hey, Don’t go too far out, the snow is deep over there” Shouted Twilight to her foal. The Foal – a dark purple unicorn Filly with a black mane paused as she bounced over the driven snow as if Some Important thought had occurred to the young pony.

“I told you not to got out this far, you could be hurt” admonished the foal’s mother as she caught up. The foal continued to look out over the Snowy plane if if she hadn't heard.

“Mother…” said the filly tentatively “Who is my daddy?”

Twilight Considered for a moment.

‘he’s not around anymore, I will tell you about him when you get older” Said Twilight.

“daddy lives in the snow up here!” Said the foal excitedly.

Twilight was glad that the uncomfortable line of questioning had given way to childish fancy.

“Time to go home now sweetness, it’s starting to snow again” Said the foals mother.

The foal shuffled her hooves and said “Can I hug daddy goodbye first?”

The small pony Reared up on her hind legs and attempted to embrace the drifting flakes, the Falling stars passed Between her arms, but she seemed Happy with the result even as she toppled forward immediately after.

Twilight picked her daughter up, and began to make her way back. As she went her foal Looked back and waved gently at the falling snow, The flakes drifted faintly from side to side as they made there way down to the earth.

Author's Note

Reviews much appreciated.