Tales from Squawkers

Squawkers is well known for being a very… irregular place, especially to fairly vanilla ponies. However, though other floors were known of, they each typically required exuberant amounts of bits and a frequent enough membership for patrons to be allowed in. Thankfully, a few were more than happy to comply. Similarly, griffons would have to be trained for a while before they could appear on the other floors, because they typically required a lot of experience or fortitude. Fortunately, I happened to be one such griffon.

I am Anthenia, a sort of veteran around here. I boast a cyan body, gray head, and an hourglass figure. I wasn’t exactly the most well-known griffon around here, patrons often prefer to pay for someone that’s either top or bottom heavy, but I’m not exactly hurting for cash. I’m a bit of an actor in these walls, and many ponies love to see me in the role, whether it be a submissive minx or a dominatrix. I may not be well known, but ponies are certain to remember me if they catch one of my performances.

Today, I got a request from one of the very rare mare patrons. She visited before, somepony named “Lucy Blossom”. She herself was apparently an office worker elsewhere who had a lot of stress to go through, as one could imagine. In her previous visits, she talked about how obnoxious the lot of them were as she got to work on me. Thankfully, she knew her limits, because, though she would get physical in our sessions, she wouldn’t go to far. Anyways, she collected the bits, got herself into position, and sent me a request. I was alarmed at the dress she suggested: it wasn’t really anything I’d ever worn before, but still, she paid for it. Besides, I was sure I could pull this off.

We each shared a changing room, though each griffon tended to their own thing. I was out of my previous outfit, before plucking forth one of the new ones. I took out lingerie: a lacy, purple corset that hugged my torso, wrapping above my hips and under my breasts while the straps wrapped over my shoulders and behind me. They also came with similarly-colored panties that remained unobstructed from the corset, or the black stockings that came with. I adjust my dress a little to make sure my breasts popped a little more, while also making sure the rim of my stockings were nice and outstretched.

As I looked over myself in the mirror, I mulled over the outfit while stroking my chin. The request specified that I should be nice and submissive, which was expected with Lucy Blossom. But this outfit didn’t exactly have the look of a sub. Granted, there weren’t a lot of options up on this floor for submissive gear (one was a bodysuit while the other was naked), but still… Either way, I couldn’t exactly judge what she wanted. I was the art piece, she was the customer. I stepped out, grabbed the food she ordered, and walked along the hallways. They were lined with many private rooms for the second floor patrons. Lucy Blossom’s room number was on the note, so I was able to find it soon. Once there, I knocked on the door.

“Lucy Blossom?” I asked.

“Present,” a somewhat stern voice said. Perfect. Now that contact’s been established, it was time to get into character.

“U-uh, Ms. Blossom? You wanted to see me?”

“The door’s unlocked.” With her order, I took the doorknob, and spread the door open. The room was big enough for five ponies. They’d usually sit around the table in the middle of the room, though my patron was alone and positioned at the head of the table such that she glared at the door, and me by extension. The unicorn wore a business suit consisting of a tight, white shirt, which seemed to wrap tightly around her bust, as well as a black skirt that reached down to her thighs. In addition, she wore dark chocolate-brown pantyhose and a pair of black heels. Top it off with black-framed glasses on top of her sherbet-blue fur, and the image of a dominative office worker was complete. I could only wonder if she usually dressed this way at her office.

She tapped her finger on the table in a steady pace, subtly demonstrating her annoyance. She made sure to specify that she’d be only acting by the time I arrived, helped to keep up character. Still, even if we were acting, I felt a genuine twinge of fear deep in my heart. I stepped forwards bashfully and began carefully rounding the edge of the table. She didn’t turn her head towards me, though I could feel her eyes follow my every move.

“S-sorry I was late,” I said. “It was a little tricky finding just the right outfit for tonight…” I heard a scoff from the unicorn.

“And here I thought those stuff came as uniforms to you girls,” Lucy chided. “Is that your personal wear, then?”

“U-uh, not particularly…” At that, Lucy scoffed in self congratulations, as if she’d ushered out some sort of victory out of our interaction. Though, considering my discomfort and general attitude, she just might’ve… I soon rounded the corner of the table and stood beside her. There, I’d carefully take the items on my tray, and set it down in front of her. However, as I set down the last plate, as per instructions, I made sure to set it dangerously close to the edge. And then, as gravity demanded, the plate came down, flipping in the air before landing upright on the floor, miraculously keeping the food itself safe.

“O-oh dear!” I gasped out as it came down. “I-I’ll go get that!” I set the platter I carried down on the table, before getting down on all fours, again, as per instructions. I was about to get it, but Lucy was already on the move. Faster than I could respond, she sat down on my back, her careful enough to get my lower back while avoiding my wings. After a few sessions with her, I became familiar with the curvature of her butt, and would come to understand the thickness of her clothing based on how much of her backside I could feel. This skirt was pretty thin.

I felt her roll her hips to adjust the positioning of her rump upon me, and my thin body wriggled beneath her as she pressed into me uncomfortably. Though, eventually, she seemed to find the position she needed, and settled in place. She sighed before leaning over.

“My dish?” Her question sounded less like a question and more like an order. I stuttered in worry before grasping the food I dropped and trying desperately to hoist it up to her. She huffed and took the meal, before bringing it up and onto the table. “Typical slow griffon,” she remarked. Yet another part of the session, a bit of anti-griffon behavior. Language like that required extra bits, but she was willing to pay it. It’s a good thing I was a veteran, because I was positive that other griffons would cry under her employ. Either way, I stayed still, and she was at work with her meal. There was an uncomfortable silence only filled by her eating noise.

“Is the food alright?” I asked, still acting timid. And at that, I heard her mutter and stroke her chin, as if she was trying to put it into words how she felt about it. I myself knew that no matter how the food tasted, she would have a very negative reaction. Yet another part she paid for our session. She angled her heel just right, before sending it upwards and jabbing me in the ribs, getting a pained grunt out of me.

“It’s cold. Probably because you’re so slow, or probably because you types somehow found out how to make fire freeze,” she declared. She dug the heel into me to drive the point home. The pain itself might’ve been real, but there’s always a bit of pain associated with these sessions if the payment’s right. Besides, I was a big girl, I could endure a bit more than some other guys. She huffed, and brought her heel down and spared me. “You’re really lucky that I’m famished for anything right now. Had a long day with little break for food.”

“O-oh, that sounds awful…” I muttered. Though, my attempts at sympathizing for her was met with another jab to the ribs.

“I don’t need sympathy from a chair,” she said. Lucy delivered another jab to me. “In fact, I hardly need another word out of a chair.” She punctuated her problem by grinding into me. I grit my teeth and fought the urge to scrape my claws against the crowd. I was being pulverized in only a few moments! I don’t think I’ve had any session move by as fast as this one did before! She seemed to really want to vent, fast.

Eventually, her heel was off of me, and gave me a moment of reprieve. I panted and panted, lying there on all fours. She leaned back, and I could feel her but bore down onto my back. She went back to eating a little more, while I could only lie there and wait for whatever she had next. I couldn’t pose, I couldn’t present, I could only lie there. Chairs didn’t talk, else they’d get jabbed. It’s a good thing she’d paid me to talk despite me being a chair.

“You’ve been awfully soft, so at least your good for that,” Lucy said as she ate. “Hell of a lot better than these other chairs could be.”

“O-oh, thank you so much-“ I started, only to be cut off with another strike of her heel! I yelped as it struck, and shuddered as I realized where she struck. She’d aimed for my abdomen before, which was good because it was fairly hearty. But now, she managed to strike one of my soft, sensitive breasts. My rack shook as a result of her jab, and the point of her heel stung a little more than the others. I shuddered, my arms and legs quaking from this attack. I panted and panted, though grunted as she began to grind her heel into my poor girl.

“I thought that chairs didn’t talk,” she said in a commanding tone. She sighed in annoyance before bringing her foot down and allowing me a moment of respite. “Honestly, can’t you griffon types do anything right?”

“S-sorry ma’am- Ah!” Once again, I was cut off by a jab to my breast. My whole body threatened to buckle underneath her from all of this abuse! But I couldn’t… not yet. If I gave up and fell to her assaults, I’d be knocked down and cause her to fall. If I failed to keep her up like a good little chair, then I would be punished more. And I needed to receive that punishment a little later. Her foot came down, and my now sore breast was allowed a moment of reprieve. She muttered in annoyance and crossed her arms.

“Now, do you feel sorry for all of that?” she asked. Of course I knew that this was a trap. Either I apologize and get beaten because I’m a chair, or I don’t apologize and get beaten for not apologizing. Of course, she herself was more than aware of such a cruel paradox. I, myself, actually struggled with which response would be more in character. Would the timid me seek immediate retribution and apologize? Or would she be too scared to speak anymore after all of this lady’s bullying? Either way, my moment of contemplation would cost me dearly, as Lucy would choose to deliver another jab, this time smushing one breast, then the other. I wailed in distress and lightly swayed, my wings flailing about from that strike.

I panted and blushed at all of the assault. I felt so dirty like this. It wasn’t even that I was just beneath her heel to be ground upon, no she chose to sandwich my sensitive bits between her heel and backside! I felt so disgracefully low like this, but it was a good thing I was a glutton for punishment. Still, Lucy really knew how to push the limits in these sessions. I balled up my fist and began banging the ground in response to all of the abuse. But eventually, after smushing my breasts a bit with her heels, she brought her foot down and gave me some breathing room. She sighed and looked over her food, partially focusing on her drink.

“You take a while to get the message, you know that?” she pointed out. “I don’t want you pissing me off, you get that?” I needed to brandish my submissiveness without showing disobedience. I caught my upcoming voice in my throat before they could come out, followed by me nodding at her question. And at that, I could swear I felt a smirk dress Lucy’s face. She leaned back, and ran her finger around her glass, stirring the contents and the ice cubes within.

“There, that’s more like it,” she said as she fiddled with her drink. I panted happily at her approval, yet another means of helping her image. If I wasn’t showing pleasure at pleasing the mistress, then how would she know she’s doing a good job treating her servant? She scooted in place a little, digging her butt into my back again. I sighed and brushed my brow, wiping the sweat away. After that rub down, she sighed and went back to her meal. “Now, you better be quiet a little longer… you know what happens when you don’t, right?” I nodded again. “Good girl.”

I clenched my beak tightly and brought my head down, keeping a sigh from leaving my beak. I couldn’t brandish that for her yet. Though, by the sounds of her stirring drink, it seemed as though she was raring to move onto the next part. I kept myself still, only for another wriggle on top of me to make me wriggle about. I felt her shake about on top of my back, and heard the telltale noise of her heel shifting a bit, preparing for another strike. However, miraculously, she stayed her foot. Instead, she started to stand up. She got off of me, and I heard the threatening clink of an ice cube being dragged up the inside of the cup. She then stood over by my head.

“Stand. You’re no longer a chair,” she said. And so, like an obedient griffon, I climbed up onto my feet. And once we stood, I was once again reminded of our generally similar height, me barely eeking out over her. In these kind of positions, it was a little too easy to forget just how big or small your patron is. Depending on the scenario they pay for, they could feel as large as a giant, or as small as a mouse, despite them being just a normal pony. Heck, even standing here, despite the evidence being clear as day before me, I didn’t feel like we were equal height.

Either way, she now brandished a little more than her outfit, namely a piece of ice in one hand. I’ll admit, when I read about this part in the requests, I’d felt a twinge of fear over it. I was used to a lot of abuse and inappropriate touches, but something as sadistic as what Lucy was shooting for here? This was not as simple as a heel in the wrong place: This was a long, torturous progress to make sure I endure one of the most uncomfortable situations ever. My contemplation couldn’t last much longer, for she began to step uncomfortably close.

“I order you to draw your drawers open,” she spoke. Clients weren’t allowed to touch any of our waistbands, nor look when they were out of the way. I blushed deeply and carefully reached down, hooking my waistband, and pulling the front of my panties forwards, following her movements as she brought the ice cube-wielding hand out and forwards. As per my orders, I made sure that my panties were positioned just right and underneath her hand. The whole time, I blushed and shook, as if my body was already feeling the chill of that ice cube. My feathers were even starting to stand on their ends! And then, the anticipation was reaching its end. She unfurled her fingers, and the ice cube fell down. I felt the cube’s weight tug on my panties as it collided with the stretch of fabric, before gliding down… right down between my legs…

“Gyah!” I squealed out once the ice cube struck. I released my grip and allowed the waistband to snap back into place, which only made the ice cube smush more into me. My knees buckled together and I clenched my fists tightly as the icy chill struck me in exactly the worst ways. I was forced into a low pose that forced me to look up at Lucy as she observed my distress. She crossed her arms and rapped her fingers along her elbow as she watched me endure the ice cube treatment. As I endured it, she cradled my chin to force me to look her in the eye.

“You really want that out, don’t you?” Lucy asked. I emphatically nodded. “You can’t do that. There’s no way I want to see that out. I understand that it’s really slippery, so… you have to hold still.” I looked at her as if she’d suddenly grown a second head upon her order. She brought her hand away from me and stepped back, leaving me to shiver and blush as that stupid ice cube bore into me. And unfortunately, on her orders, I couldn’t get out of this subservient pose. I could only clench my thighs and endure.

That cursed chunk of coolness bore down on my most sensitive of spots, and I could only stand their and shiver. I clenched my fists tightly and twisted and contorted my face as the wicked block overwhelmed me. And it wasn’t staying cool, either. No, my body heat was boring into it. I could feel the water composing the cube leak out and wash over my crotch and panties. My legs shook, and once more, I contemplated the need to move my legs, only for the slightest movement to cause this cursed ice chunk to slide around a little. If I wasn’t careful, I wouldn’t be surprised if this block of ice slid out.

So, I had to stay in place, and I was huffing and puffing and shaking, my fur and feathers standing on end. Meanwhile, my tormentor was looking on me with a certain disdain. She must think I’m so low to be in this sort of position. I felt my arms try to reach down between my legs, but her gaze seemed to silently force me to keep them up. She could probably do all sorts of things to me while I’m stuck like this. Plus, if I were to fail, we might have to go a little off script.

“You’re holding yourself a little better than I expected,” Lucy admitted. I looked up at her, and nodded happily, accepting her praise. “That doesn’t mean I’m impressed.” This time she spoke sternly, as if one click away from a full scold. I ducked my head back downwards and heaved, shuddering as the ice melted a little more and soaked more of me. Goodness it felt so uncomfortable. Not only was it soaking into my clothes, but those cold juices were finding their way between my legs! I let out a moan of discomfort and found myself lifting a leg in response, having it wave in the air a little as I was forced to endure.

Still, there was a silver lining here. It was melting, which meant that it was going to disappear sooner or later. I could only be grateful for that much, at least. But sweet Celestia if it isn’t an arduous process! My face was probably wine-red right now, and I could feel the beads of sweat poor down me as if a showerhead was directly overhead. I was forced to keep my eyes trained on that pony, as she was my only life saver in this sea of discomfort I was made to endure. As a result, I could scarcely pay attention to the path of the sweat pouring down me, and could only imagine it curl around my curves and down my neck.

And then, just to add to my discomfort, that pony was finally stepping out of view, walking around the table to try and get towards my side. I’d try dearly to follow her path by simply turning my head, but she was soon beyond a comfortable angle for me to follow her. And as such, I would be left staring at nothing, with very little to keep my mind away from this ice cube. I could probably try to turn towards her to get her in view again, but that’d involve moving a little more, and with how thin and slippery the ice cube’s gotten, it’d be really easy for it to slip out. So, I simply stood there and waited as my tormentor for the evening came around to my side, her keeping quiet enough for me to not pay attention to.

I stayed in place and shuddered more and more, my body continuing to rock. I’d assumed that this would be one of the worst things I could ever endure! And then, all of a sudden, it got so much worse. The ice cube had gotten really thin after melting against me for so long. So, after all of that, my gentle sways would rock it in various directions. Some of that swaying wound up sending it straight to my, ahem, you know… And sweet Celestia, if it felt bad just on my flesh, a brief dip inside me was so much worse! My body was doing a quicker job at melting it, but the chill of the ice hit me with an immediate jolt through my system, a shake of distress going all through me!

“Eeyah!” I squealed out upon contact. My whole body tensed, and the chilling sensation forced me down onto my knees! Fortunately, I didn’t need to worry about that ice sliding out, but that was hardly a substantial trade off! I could only kneel there and hope that this accursed chunk of ice could melt away fast enough for me to finally get out of this cursed torment! Melt… melt… melt… I laid there longer and longer, more water soaking me. I could feel it go from its tortilla-chip size to that of a small pebble in slow, agonizing detail. However, thankfully, that pebble of ice would shrink and shrink and shrink, until there was nothing left.

I sighed and stood up, still feeling slight discomfort. I curled my arms around myself to rub my biceps and build up heat. It’d take a while, but eventually, that chill would fade from more poor body. And once it did, Lucy would step out in front of me, except now, her expression softened.

“You feeling ok?” she asked.

“Y-yeah, it’s just a little surprising,” I answered. “You must’ve been really stressed.”

“It’s been a rough couple of weeks. I thought the ice thing would help out, but it didn’t feel so good watching you struggle like that.”

“Eh, I’ll probably go through worse.” I soon sighed and looked towards the door. “Sorry you went through what sounds like a rough week.”

“Oh no. I can’t begin to imagine what a rough week on your end must be like.” And at that, I shrugged.

“You gotta be pretty strong to survive in this line of work.” Lucy smirked at my response, before shaking my hand.

“See you next time.” And with that, I’d leave the room, and head back to the changing room.