The Performance of a Lifetime
Stepping off the train amidst the flood of travelers, Vinyl Scratch was treated to her first proper look at her new home.
“Welcome to Concordia!” a sign declared in friendly, chipped, letters. She craned her neck back, taking in the sight of the shimmering skyscrapers of downtown visible past the swirling smoke from the trains, and when she looked back down she saw several other ponies doing the same. The vast majority were mares, the least popular or hardest working members of their herds traveling to distant lands in the hopes of sending bits back home to their families for a few years. There were a few stallions in the mix, too, though not nearly as common, probably on vacation or brief business trips.
Concordia wasn’t actually within Equestrian borders—it was actually nestled just between the three behemoths of Equestria, Gryphos, and the Dragonlands—but that hadn’t kept it from nursing a notable pony population. Every train seemed to bring in a fresh wave of them, each one looking up the skyscrapers with wide eyes, eager to work.
It was easy to get lost in the bustle, but luckily Vinyl had packed light, wearing only a pair of saddlebags with her laptop and a few neccessities. After a rough breakup with Octavia and few gigs too many falling through, she’d been unable to afford renewing the lease on her apartment in Canterlot. She’d just been weighing her options between roughing it on the streets for a bit or moving somewhere slower and cheaper when she’d received a letter from a Mr. Gallo, who apparently owned a few clubs in the city. He’d heard of her, even from all the way out here, and wanted to offer her the chance to DJ at some big party he threw every year. If she did well, he said, he’d even hire her on as a regular.
It was a long way to travel for a job, but the numbers he quoted had been more than enticing. And besides, what else was she going to do? Go back to Octavia? She pursed her lips as she thought of all the bitter words the two had exchanged last time they saw each other. No, she needed to get away from Canterlot. She was confident she could land the gig, and if not—well, what difference did it make which streets she roughed it on?
The sun was already setting by the time the train had pulled into the station, the lampposts casting the platform in a sickly yellow glow as Vinyl followed the crowd into the customs office. The ponies sorted themselves into neat lines in front of several little windows, and Vinyl didn’t hesitate to fall in behind one of the shorter lines.
It only took a couple minutes for her to reach the front. She offered a friendly smile to the batpony stallion on the other side of the glass. “Yo, dude. What’s up?”
The stallion didn’t look up from his desk. “Name?”
“Oh, uh, Vinyl. Vinyl Scratch. Maybe you’ve heard of me?”
“Should I have?” The stallion glanced up at her for a fraction of a second before turning back to his sheets, only for his eyes to snap back up a second later. “Oh. Hello.”
Vinyl’s smile grew strained. He wasn’t even trying to hide his intentions as he ogled her, his slitted eyes traveling down her side and drinking in her flanks. “Yeah, hi. So, Vinyl Scratch.”
“Mmmhm.” He nodded, more to himself than anything, and his tongue darted out to lick at his lips. He smiled as he finally looked her in the eye, revealing his fangs. “Welcome to Concordia, Ms. Scratch. I’m afraid I’ll have to take you aside for a random inspection.”
“Whoa, what?” Vinyl’s tail flicked behind her, and she let out an exasperated sigh. She didn’t need to think hard to realize this stallion just wanted to feel her up. Whatever. She was too tired after the train ride to bother with fighting it. “Whatever, dude.”
“Don’t worry, Ms. Scratch. It’ll only take a moment.” His smile widened as he slipped out of his seat and opened a small door set into the wall between them. He hummed to himself as he shut and locked it behind him. “Follow me, please.”
Vinyl rolled her eyes as he led her past the crowd and towards a door set off to one side. Looking back, she saw other ponies receiving stamps on their passports and entering the city through the wide gates on the opposite side of the hall.
The stallion’s hooves stayed on her a little longer than was polite as he ushered her through, and she frowned as she suddenly found herself in a dirty alleyway. She rounded on him, ears flat against her skull. “What the hay, dude?”
“Please relax, Ms. Scratch,” the stallion said, resting a hoof firmly against her shoulder. “We have to conduct our searches in a different building. It’s just policy.”
Vinyl stiffened, slapping his hoof away. “Quit messing with me, alright? What’s going on here?”
“Ms. Scratch,” the stallion cautioned, reaching into his uniform and pulling out a pair of manacles. “If you keep resisting I’ll be forced to restrain you.”
“Resisting? You act like I’m under arrest!”
“That is usually what we do to ponies that don’t submit to lawful orders.”
Vinyl backed up against the wall, glancing down the alley towards the street. She could see plenty of movement out there; maybe she could make a run for it, get lost in the crowd. But then she’d be an illegal immigrant, wouldn’t she? That wouldn’t sound good if her potential employer found out about it. But the way this stallion was acting was raising all kinds of alarms in her head.
Her ears twitched at a new voice coming from above, deep and smooth. “Excuse me, officer, is there some problem here?”
The bat pony stiffened, looking up. Following his gaze, Vinyl watched as a thickset griffon glided down and landed beside them.
“Oh, Mr. Gallo!” The customs agent backed away with a nervous chuckle. “I’m sorry. Do you know this mare?”
“Indeed I do. She’ll be performing at my club tonight. Is there some conflict here?” Mr. Gallo straightened up, his sharp talons clicking against the ground as he towered over the bat pony. His coat was an ashy grey, and his plumage a ruddy crimson that reminded Vinyl of the wood on an old guitar. “I’m sure if you were to head back inside you could find any number of mares to randomly inspect.”
“Yes, of course!” The bat pony dipped his head, rushing to disappear back into the customs office. “Have a good evening, Mr. Gallo!”
“Same to you, sir.” The hard edge of Mr. Gallo’s beak curved up into a smile as he watched the stallion extract himself, and a strange chill ran down Vinyl’s spine when he turned the smile on her. “Ms. Scratch. I hope you haven’t been too inconvenienced?”
“Oh, uh.” Vinyl blinked, mind scrambling to process the odd interaction that had just happened before her. “Well, he never stamped my passport, so…”
“Not a problem. I can have it handled. But why don’t we get out of this dark alley, hrm? You have a set to play, after all.”
The big griffon turned and started towards the street, and after a moment’s hesitation Vinyl fell in behind him. “Wait, like tonight? But I just got here!”
“Is that going to be an issue?” Mr. Gallo asked, glancing back as they stepped out of the alley. Taxi wagons pulled by sweating mares clattered up and down the street as citygoers of all races rushed up and down the sidewalks. Although most of the hoof traffic was mares, Vinyl was surprised to see several griffons, diamond dogs, minotaurs, and even a few dragons bustling about the city.
She recovered quickly, offering Mr. Gallo a thin smile. “Well, I’ve gotta do all my prep if you want a good set, right? Gotta test out the gear, see how it sounds on your stage, acoustics, meet the team and everything. And a rehearsal or two never hurt anypony, either.”
“Hmm. I see.” Mr. Gallo started down the street without warning, forcing Vinyl to gallop to catch up to him. “Very disappointing. The artist I’d had booked for tonight is… unavailable, you see. I’d hoped you might be able to fill in, but I understand if you cannot rise to the occasion. I suppose I’ll just have to—”
“Hey, whoa, hang on, now!” Vinyl grinned, trotting ahead of him and walking backwards so she could face him. “I mean, you won’t get me at my best if I can’t prep, but even without prep I can give you a banging show! I can totally fill your spot, dude.”
“Ah. Good.”
He stopped and waved a wing towards the street, and a second later a taxi pulled up to the curb. Vinyl frowned as she saw the mares pulling it wearing blinders, the bits between their teeth attached to a set of reins being held by a griffon seated behind them. Mr. Gallo pulled the door open and beckoned Vinyl inside, and with a nod of thanks she hopped up and took a seat.
The carriage sagged against its suspension when Mr. Gallo settled in beside her, and Vinyl paled as she suddenly realized just how big the griffon actually was. He had to be twice her size, at least. He leaned forwards, the carriage groaning beneath him as he spoke to the driver.
“The Smoking Wick, please.”
The driver nodded, snapped his reins, and the carriage rolled into motion.
Mr. Gallo leaned back into his seat, leaving Vinyl squished uncomfortably into the corner, and she distracted herself with musings on what to play as she looked out the window. She had no idea exactly what kind of club it was yet, but based on the name, it was probably something classy. She could probably get away with doing one of her more regular sets here, as far as she was from home. The familiar rhythms would help in case she came across any unexpected surprises, too.
She blinked as Mr. Gallo rested a talon on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Is it your first time in our city?”
“Uh, yeah.” She looked up at him with a nervous grin, glancing pointedly down at the talon massaging her shoulder. He didn’t pull it back. “Seems like a nice place.”
He nodded, running the talon up the side of her neck and cradling her chin. “I think you’ll find yourself inspired to stay longer than expected.”
Vinyl didn’t answer, instead focusing on maintaining her smile in silence. So this guy was a perv too, huh? She’d worked for pervs before. As long as he paid well, respected her art, and didn’t get too touchy, she could live with it.
Finally he pulled his talon away, and the rest of the trip passed quickly. The city reminded her of Manehattan, almost, though it somehow managed to be a bit dirtier, and it was strange seeing restaurants proudly advertising meat dishes in their windows. She tried not to overthink it. She’d have to get used to carnivores if she was going to live here, and it wasn’t like she’d never dealt with griffons before.
When they arrived at their destination, Mr. Gallo leaned forwards and pushed a few bits into the taxi driver’s outstretched talons—strangely few bits, too, considering it had to be enough to pay both the driver and the mares attached to his reins. What was even the point of a driver, anyways? The mares would be able to guide the taxi just fine if they didn’t have those blinders on.
She shook her head, dislodging the thought as Mr. Gallo helped her out of the taxi. She shouldn’t be judging the city’s culture when she’d only just arrived. She was sure there was a good reason for it.
The Smoking Wick was built on the corner of its block, its name plastered in shimmering neon over its double doors. Long, curving windows on either side of the door contained art of mares writhing in what was presumably pleasure, the walls behind them painted black as if to simulate deep shadows concealing whatever secrets waited inside. Strangely, Mr. Gallo led her away from the front entrance, instead circling around and down a narrow alley, to an imposing iron door bolted into the brick.
He knocked exactly once, and Vinyl jumped at the sharp snap of the peephole slamming open. The door swung open in silence, revealing a bored looking griffon, not quite as large as Mr. Gallo, waiting inside.
Vinyl cocked her head curiously as she followed him inside. There was nothing here but another identical door, a dark steel crossbeam locking it closed. The door griffon grunted as he pulled it up, allowing Mr. Gallo to lead Vinyl deeper into the club. Her ears twitched at the bang of the crossbeam falling back into place as the door slammed shut behind them.
She let out a stiff laugh. “Wow. Real stiff security you got here.”
He nodded. “You can never be too careful. My mares are worth a lot to me, you know.”
“Right. Sure.”
The club was well lit and clean inside, and Vinyl relaxed a bit as she followed Mr. Gallo down a carpeted hall furnished in warm shades of red and orange. Several doors lined the walls, some of which were made of the same heavy metal as the doors to the alley.
Mr. Gallo stopped in front of a plain wooden door, pulling it open and beckoning Vinyl through. “The stage is just through here.”
“Thanks.” Vinyl smiled at him as she stepped through into the backstage area. Costume racks and stacked boxes loitered in the corners, competing for space with old instruments. She spared it little thought as she walked towards the stage, spotting the table with all the hookups to the speakers set up on either side. The curtains were shut for now, but she could still hear the buzz of the crowd on the other side. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she unpacked her laptop, controller, and turntable. It had scarcely been an hour since she got off the train, and here she was already about to perform!
“Is everything to your satisfaction, Ms. Scratch?” Mr. Gallo stepped up, pressing his side against hers and draping a wing over her shoulder. “Can I get you anything?”
“Oh, uh. I guess I could go for a glass of water.” Vinyl cringed as he tightened his wing around her, but she wasn’t going to back out now. She needed this money. “Maybe you could show me to the break room?”
“It’s just down the hall to the left as you come out.” Mr. Gallo turned her back towards the backstage area, his wing caressing her flank as he guided her forwards. “The first wooden door.”
“Cool. T-thanks.”
Vinyl cursed silently at her stutter as she extricated herself from the awkward hug and trotted back out into the hall. Sure he was a creep, but she needed to appear confident if she wanted this job. Well, then again, if her prior experience with pervs was any indication then a certain amount of demure stuttering could work in her advantage. But that just wasn’t her style.
It was a good thing he’d specified that the break room was the first wooden door on her left, because she had to pass by a couple metal doors to get to it. She peered through the narrow window of one curiously, frowning as she saw a few dozen mares all milling about in a wide, plain room. They were all wearing long stockings and collars, strangely enough, and even through the glass she could pick up on their nerves.
She shook her head, stepping past the weird sight and stepping into the break room. Probably just performers, she reasoned as she filled a glass with tap water. Maybe there was some kind of big showroom dance coming on after her set.
She felt better after draining the glass, and she filled it up one more time before taking it with her back to the stage. Mr. Gallo was waiting just offstage, and she offered him a tight smile as she passed.
“Yo, what’s up with all those mares in that one room?” she asked. “The ones in the weird get-ups?”
“Waitresses,” Mr. Gallo explained, following her to the table.
“What, you’ve got like, 30 waitresses?” She laughed. “You sure this is a club and not a restaurant?”
He didn’t laugh with her, and there was something unnerving about the way he smiled. “We’re expecting a big crowd tonight, Ms. Scratch. I would hate to run out of waitresses.”
“Oh, totally.” Vinyl grimaced as she turned to her laptop and began setting up her audio program. The griffon was giving off all kinds of bad vibes, and she was beginning to have second thoughts about this gig. Well, she’d been having second thoughts for a while, but now she was actually starting to listen to them. Whatever. She could just get through this set, make a name for herself, get her paycheck, and split.
A few minutes later, Mr. Gallo cleared his throat. “I’ll need you to put that on.”
“Huh?” Vinyl frowned as she saw him gesture to one of the costume racks; a collection of stockings and collars hung there in mismatched pairs. “Yeah, no dice on that, dude. I’ll be fine without.”
“I’m afraid it’s non-negotiable,” the bulky griffon said. “All employees must wear the outfit.”
“I’m not your employee.” Considering the matter settled, Vinyl looked away.
“Ms. Scratch, as long as you’re on this stage, you’ll wear this outfit.” Mr. Gallo’s voice had turned hard. “If that’s too much for you, you’re more than welcome to play your set at another establishment.”
Vinyl let out an exasperated groan. “Fine! Whatever! But I’m not signing any contracts later that require me to wear a Celestia-damned collar.”
She marched back to the costume rack, rifling through the choices with her magic and picking some that seemed about the right size. She hesitated at first, but after seeing Mr. Gallo watching her with an amused smirk, she rolled her eyes and slipped them on.
“Happy?” Vinyl shot Mr. Gallo a glare before taking a deep breath and settling in behind her gear. “Well, I’m ready when you are. Let’s do this thing.”
“One last thing.” He reached out, pulling sharply on the collar’s straps to tighten it around her neck before slipping a padlock through the loops and shutting it tight.
Vinyl gagged at the sudden constriction around her throat. “Dude, what the hay?!”
“Excellent.” With a smile, Mr. Gallo stalked forwards, pushing out past the curtain to a round of applause from the crowd outside. The last Vinyl saw of him was his tail, flicking from side to side like a cat about to pounce—and then he was just a voice.
“Welcome, friends, to another night of merriment at The Smoking Wick!” His voice seemed to come from every direction even from on the stage, tinged with the buzz of magic. “Tonight I bring you a special treat for your enjoyment, a talented and hard-working unicorn mare all the way from Canterlot! Her name is Vinyl Scratch, and I bring her to you fresh off the train as of merely one hour ago, wide-eyed and energetic!”
A few whistles and cheers rose up from the crowd, and Vinyl shifted uncomfortably on her hooves. It almost sounded like he was getting them excited for a stripper instead of a musician.
“Unfortunately for Ms. Scratch, business has been hard in Canterlot, and so she’s come here to play for you her very first set in Concordia! Her very first and, maybe, her very last.”
Vinyl cocked her head. What?
She didn’t have any time to figure out what he meant, as the curtains were already drawing back, giving her her first look at the main floor of the club. There didn’t seem to be any dance floor, and instead of the milling crowd of patrons looking up at her with wide smiles she was met with neatly laid out tables, the flickering candles in their centers serving as the sole source of illumination. She was taken aback at first by the strange makeup of the audience; back in Equestria, nearly every crowd she’d played for had been mostly mares. Certainly any stallion that might attend her show usually had at least one or two mares accompanying him, and in the rare cases that several stallions went out together without their herds, it was never anywhere near enough to skew the gender ratio in their direction.
So it was unusual for her to have a crowd that was so thoroughly male, and stranger still, so lacking in pony. Most of the audience were griffons, but she also saw diamond dogs, minotaurs, and dragons scattered throughout. One particular dragon caught her eye, a hulking blue-scaled creature that towered over the other patrons, leering at her with an undisguised hunger that made her gulp in apprehension. And yes, there were a few mares mixed in, carrying platters of drinks and dressed in skimpy outfits, but she didn’t see a single one that didn’t look to be working for the club.
Whatever her audience, she wasn’t going to wow them by sitting there and staring. With a single bob of her head she shifted the purple shades tucked into her mane down over her eyes, and like that she was ready. She pumped one hoof in the air as the other started the music, casting a wide grin out over her audience.
“Concordia!” she called. “Are you ready to party?!”
They cheered their response back at her, and Vinyl threw herself into her art. So what if this crowd wanted to sit and sip at drinks instead of smashing the floor underhoof? So what if almost none of them even had any hooves? She was here to do a job, and by Celestia, she’d do it right!
Time became fluid as she fell into the warm trance that only her wubs could bring her. She danced side to side, mane fluttering wildly in her vision, surrendering her heart to the bass and her muscles to the melody, sparing only just enough attention to see how the audience responded to her cues. She saw heads bobbing and sharp claws tapping, and she knew she was doing well. She stumbled only briefly when Mr. Gallo came up to her side and draped his wing over her shoulder, rubbing at her flanks with his feathers, but even that wasn’t enough to pull her out of the music. She didn’t stop when she saw the frightened looks on the waitresses faces as they circulated drinks around the floor, and not even when she saw the patrons slapping at their rumps or nipping at their withers. She was music, and everything else could wait until she finished her set.
She didn’t know how long she’d been playing when the shattering of glass and the shriek of a mare drew her attention. A minotaur had bent one of the waitresses over his table, nostrils flaring as he kneaded at her ass with his powerful fingers. The mare whined and kicked against him, but she was helpless against the taut cords of muscle in his arms. Vinyl looked to the tables around the incident, frowning as she saw the other patrons looking on with interest. Was nobody going to intervene? Was it all part of the show?
The minotaur reached a hand down between his legs, and Vinyl blanched as she saw him hefting his thick cock between the struggling mare’s legs. He pushed forwards with a snort, and the mare screamed as he speared her on his length.
That pulled Vinyl out of the music.
“Whoa, what the hay?!” Vinyl looked over to Mr. Gallo, who has watching her impassively. “Do you see that? He’s raping that mare!”
“Yes, he is.” Mr. Gallo nodded, caressing Vinyl’s flank with his wing. His wingtip traveled south, brushing over the base of her tail. “Keep playing.”
“Wh—hey!” Vinyl tried to back away, but he held her tight. The music played on in the background. “What do you mean, keep playing?! Didn’t you hear what I just said?! Do you see that?!”
“She’s an actress,” Mr. Gallo whispered, leaning in to be heard over the music. “All the waitresses are. This is one of the main attractions of my club: pretty young mares that will put up a good fight. They are well taken care of, I assure you.”
Vinyl grimaced as she looked back to the mare pinned down against the table. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, staining her pink coat with mascara, and the table rocked and jerked beneath her with the force of each thrust. A diamond dog walked up to the mare’s front end, plugging her muzzle with his dick as she pushed vainly against his hips.
If she was an actor, she was a damn good actor.
“Look, dude, I don’t think I can work here, alright?” Vinyl let out a disappointed sigh as she tried to pull away from his wing once again. “Yo, let go of me! You can’t just drop this on me; it’s not cool!”
“Keep. Playing.”
Vinyl froze. His voice had come out in a low growl that sent a chill down her spine. She looked up at him, wide-eyed, and he smiled down at her as he continued.
“Remember, Ms. Scratch, you’re in this city illegally. I’ll be happy to sort out the situation with customs after the show, but if you leave now, you’ll need to explain that matter yourself. So then. Keep playing.”
Vinyl snarled up at him. “You’re a real dick, y’know that?”
“It’s just business, Ms. Scratch,” Mr. Gallo purred. “You’ll be compensated fairly.”
Vinyl’s tail flicked behind her as she turned back to her gear, but it was no use trying to get back into her groove. The muffled shrieks of the mare being spitroasted on the table made it impossible for her to focus, and they only redoubled in volume as both the minotaur and diamond dog hilted inside her, white spunk dripping from the gaps around their cocks. Vinyl shook her head in disgust as they pulled out, leaving the mare gasping and sobbing on the table, only to be replaced by new patrons.
And more mares were being put in similar situations all around the club. They cried out as they were grabbed roughly, their platters left to clatter noisily against the floor as they were bent over surfaces, hefted up into laps, or had their heads pulled down onto stiff cocks. Many of them were shared by two or three patrons at once, struggling in vain while their bodies were pounded and pumped full of cum. At the back of the room, the huge dragon she’d spotted earlier had a mare gripped in each claw, his long forked tongue slithering around their bodies and leaving shimmering streaks of saliva on their fur.
Even if she could somehow block all that out, Mr. Gallo’s questing wingtip had finally taken the plunge under her tail. He teased at her dry slit with the stiff feathers, ignoring the dark scowl on her face. Whatever the waitresses mixed in with the audience might be, Vinyl was definitely not an actress, and she was already making plans to report the ballsy griffon’s molestation the instant she stepped hoof outside. She didn’t care if he blacklisted her and made sure she didn’t see a single job in the city for the rest of her life; she wasn’t going to take this sick treatment lying down.
The griffon’s wing finally relinquished its grip as he moved to sit fully behind her, openly kneading at her flanks with his talons. She grunted, clamping her tail tightly over her marehood, but he patiently pulled it away before leaning in.
“Yo!” Vinyl drew a leg back and kicked, hard. Mr. Gallo sidestepped it easily before grabbing the outstretched leg, holding it in the air and leaving her unbalanced. His hard beak caressed the inside of her thigh in a mockery of a kiss before he turned back to her nethers, his tongue slipping out to taste at her.
“S-stop!” The first tears welled in Vinyl’s eyes as Mr. Gallo’s tongue sunk into her, sending unwanted tingles through her body. “I said—f-fucking stop! I don’t want this! Hey!” She turned to the crowd, a hoof slapping against her laptop and shutting the music off. “Help! Rape!”
A few eyes turned up towards the stage, and for a moment hope flickered in Vinyl’s breast. Then the patrons that had looked up grinned, their paws and talons and claws reaching down to jerk at their shafts or grabbing passing mares to do the job instead, and that hope turned to despair.
Mr. Gallo clacked his beak as he raised his head, his talons tightening painfully around Vinyl’s caught leg and drawing beads of blood. “Keep playing, Ms. Scratch. You keep playing no matter what.”
“O-okay. Alright. F-fuck!” Vinyl whimpered as she turned the music back on, struggling to stay focused enough to go through the motions as the cruel griffon buried his beak back into her cunt. The edge was sharp and hard, and she winced as it cut and pinched at her insides. She was done with fighting; she just wanted to get it over with now, and she figured that cooperation would be her quickest route to freedom.
The audience had devolved into a full-on orgy, with mares being taken against every table in the room. Vinyl gnashed her teeth and focused on her music, taking some small comfort in the creative process. If she just focused on her music, then maybe she could forget about the tongue licking at her clit, or the hideous, numbing pleasure tingling in her hooftips, or the pain of the talons digging into her plot. Maybe she could drown out the screams.
Out in the crowd, the dragon lifted one of the mares in his claws up to his open maw. His razor teeth snapped down on either side of her barrel with a sharp crack, and with a shriek and the splatter of blood against the floor, the mare went still.
Vinyl’s eyes shot wide open, fixated on the mare’s lifeless body as the dragon whipped his head around and tossed it aside. It landed with a dull thud, another mare shivering in terror as she stepped over the corpse to answer the dragon’s call for more.
“Keep playing, Ms. Scratch.” Mr. Gallo grunted as he reared up and slid his weight over Vinyl’s back, the tip of his cock prodding at her cunt even as his hot breath tickled at her ear. “No matter what, you keep playing.”
“S-she’s dead!” Vinyl hissed. “He fucking k-killed her!”
“Very observant of you.” Mr. Gallo hummed as he traced a talon under her throat. “Would you like to join her?”
“Oh, fuck. Fuck. Celestia!” Vinyl shivered under the weight of the griffon as she processed the threat, her hooves shaking as she struggled to keep working through the set. She grunted as he shoved his cock inside her, pushing a little further past the resistance of her dry lips with each thrust. With wide eyes she watched as one weeping mare held another mare’s head down against the base of a diamond dog’s shaft. They had identical cutie marks—twins, maybe?—and the one being held down spasmed and shuddered as the dog’s knot swelled inside her throat, cutting off her breathing. The dog howled as he came, the flood of spunk pumping through his cock visible in the rippling of the mare’s neck, and after a seemingly endless struggle of scrabbling against his hips, trying in vain to push herself off and suck in precious air, the mare fell still, eyes bulging.
The sister let out a plaintive moan as she fell to the ground in a little ball. She didn’t put up any resistance as a griffon hunched over her, pulling roughly on her tail and slamming into her pussy even as he dug the sharp edges of his beak into her throat.
Vinyl’s hooves moved robotically as she took it all in, unable to look away. Mr. Gallo grunted into her ear as his balls slapped against her thighs, the hard barbs of his shaft dragging against her sensitive inner walls and sending shocks of unwanted pleasure up her spine. He pushed her head down against the table with one talon, staring into her eyes with a sinister grin.
“F-fuck you,” she hissed, glaring up at him through her tears. “You think you’re s-safe?” She let out a sharp gasp as he pounded against her cervix, driving the breath from her. “I’ll go to the p-police! Y-you’ll rot in—agh!—Tartarus!”
“Do you know something,” he grunted, eyes momentarily rolling back as he ground the base of his cock against her winking clit. “The chief of police is right there. Look.” She didn’t offer any resistance as he guided her muzzle towards a corner of the club, where a green-feathered griffon had a mare pinned beneath him.
He had both talons perched on the mare’s head, pushing it down against the floor, and with every pump of his hips her hind legs were lifted up off the ground, scrabbling uselessly at the air. Her wings beat against his sides in vain as she tried to escape, wincing in pain as each thrust forced her back to arch dangerously far. Another mare was crouched down between the griffon’s legs, suckling at his balls, and Vinyl watched as the griffon began to thrust harder, shoving his length into the helpless mare beneath him with every muscle in his body as he lost his rhythm.
With a shriek and a wet crunch, the mare’s spine finally gave out. She convulsed beneath him as her back bent unnaturally far, the griffon’s fresh cum spurting out past the edges of her overfilled cunt.
Mr. Gallo let out a throaty hum as he turned Vinyl’s face back to him. “That’s the chief of police that just fucked that mare to death, Ms. Scratch. He’s one of my regulars.”
Vinyl spat up into his face, making him flinch back. “You’re lying!”
“Agh! You whore!” The griffon’s beak curled back into a snarl, and he lashed out with a talon, raking it across Vinyl’s face and causing her shades to fall and shatter against the stage. She cried out at the sharp pain, shrinking back, and with a furious growl he redoubled his assault on her marehood, making her legs twitch with forced pleasure.
She bit her lip, determined not to give him the satisfaction of a moan. Any pretense of keeping the music going had faded by now; the club had gone silent, with only the screams of the mares and the slapping of flesh to serve as a backdrop to the carnage. Her body was betraying her, slick arousal drooling down her rapist’s cock, and she was having trouble keeping her thoughts straight past the heat fogging her mind. She had to stay focused, survive, keep her mind in one piece and take in as many details as she could so she could bring it all to the authorities. She didn’t care if the chief of police was in on it; she’d go to Equestria and bring Celestia herself down on this pit of freaks!
She held onto that thought as spasms of pleasure rocked her body, biting her tongue hard enough to draw blood. Towards the back of the club, she saw the beastly dragon splayed back on a cushion, two mares muzzles wrapped around his heavy balls. He had a third mare gripped in a single massive claw, jerking her up and down his shaft like a toy, and a fourth writhing in panic between his bloody jaws. The dragon let out a deep growl as he bit down on the mare, his balls tightening against his body, and the mare on his cock began to spasm as her belly bloated and a thin trail of smoke drifted out of her gaping muzzle. A second later, white hot cum spewed from her lips, splattering against his scales and the mares dutifully servicing his balls, sending both of them to the ground, clutching at their skin and screaming as the thick seed burned through it.
“Do you like it?” Mr. Gallo’s hot breath burned at her ears as he hunched over her, his furious thrusts throwing her laptop and controller to the stage. “I can tell you like it. I’ve killed dozens of mares like this, and they all deny it, but I know what it feels like when a pony whore is about to cum.” He let out a shuddering groan, scraping at her cheek with his beak. “I can feel your cunt clenching, begging for my seed, and soon I will give it to you.”
“Y-you’re wrong.” It was a struggle to speak without letting the moans escape her, but she was determined not to let him break her. “I hate it!”
He let out a dark chuckle. “Let’s play a game, hrm?” He reached out with a wing, pulling a microphone up to her muzzle. “Sing for us. Let us hear you admit it, and I’ll let you go. You can go home.”
He stretched his massive beak wide, clamping it down around Vinyl’s head as he growled and snorted, and she could feel his cock pulsing and swelling as he approached his orgasm. She whimpered, mind racing. How had she come to this? She’d been happy, she’d had a loving marefriend, even if her career had stalled, and now she was being tortured for some sick griffon’s satisfaction, helpless under his weight.
She wanted to go back. She wanted to go back to Canterlot, back to Octavia, and take back everything she’d said. What if Octavia came looking for her, and ended up in the same hellhole she was in now?
Lips trembling, she opened her mouth and let out a tentative gasp. Mr. Gallo hummed his approval, nudging the microphone closer with his wing.
It felt so good to finally let go. Vinyl squeezed her eyes shut and moaned breathlessly into the mic, surrendering to her body’s demands. Her voice echoed out of the speakers and bounced off the walls, taunting her, egging her on.
Mr. Gallo let out a stiff groan, and she felt his balls tightening against her clit. Vinyl screamed into the mic, caught halfway between despair and lust, her marehood milking at the unwanted cock inside her as the first spurt of cum filled her. Her eyes rolled back and her hooves shook; sparks shot from her horn as her thoughts fell apart, and for a moment she forgot where she was. She only knew the pleasure crashing over her mind, the electricity racing to the tips of her hooves as the pressure in her pussy surged ever higher. She howled, her shrill voice blasting out of the speakers with enough power she could hear it in her bones, every muscle shivering with the sheer force of the orgasm.
When she was able to think coherently again, she found herself splayed out over the table on her back, hind legs draped over the edge and a thick trail of hot cum dripping down her thighs. Mr. Gallo panted above her, blocking out the glow of the stage lights with his bulk.
“That was good,” he said, giving a little nod. “Very good performance.”
Vinyl blinked slowly. At length, she mustered a response. “Can I go home now?”
“No.” He shook his head, but Vinyl was too exhausted to be afraid anymore. Truthfully, she had known he wouldn’t let her go. “You will die here tonight, Ms. Scratch, but you can take comfort in the fact that you’ve put on a wonderful show for my patrons. It’s more than any mare should hope for.”
Vinyl snorted. “Fuck you.”
He grinned. “Perhaps later, we can go again, yes. But fucking always stirs up my appetite. It was a true pleasure to do business with you, Ms. Scratch.”
He spread his beak wide, and Vinyl didn’t move as he bit down on either side of her head, plunging her world into darkness. The last thing she felt was a tight strain in her neck, and the last thing she heard was the grinding of the bones in her neck as he twisted.
Author's Note
Commissioned by an anonymous patron!
Like our style? Hit us up! We'll write anything that doesn't involve feces, and draw anything that doesn't involve feces or feet!
