Author's Note

CONTAINS: Waking up early, gambling with one's life, throat ripping, heat, creampie, and a homemade pony stew.

I: Mirror Image Prepares Breakfast

Mirror Image woke with the dawn.

This wasn't unexpected. Master Gerrick always expected his breakfast to be ready when he rose in the morning, and any servant mare that failed in the task was unlikely to live to try again. Every month, one or two mares would go missing after being assigned to the master's kitchen. Sometimes somepony would have to be assigned to clean up after.

Normally Mirror would be far too busy with running the Master’s house to concern herself directly with every meal, but they were on the road today—as they had been for the past two weeks. Instead of the sound of bustling servants or rowdy house guests, she woke to birdsong and the soft fluttering of the tent flaps. She couldn’t see from within the tent, but she knew the pale blue light of dawn would just be creeping into the clearing where she’d made their camp. She had until the sun grew bright and strong enough to wake her Master to ready his breakfast.

She opened her eyes with a quiet yawn, lifting her head to inspect the tent. Master Gerrick had one foreleg draped over her side, the sharp tips of his talons poking past the soft hairs of her underbelly. Another Mirror—one of her copies—was still asleep on his opposite side, curled up with her back against his.

Mirror pursed her lips. Lazy. Perhaps it was time for that copy to be culled.

Gerrick had his hind legs splayed out messily over the bedroll, and Mirror had to make a conscious effort not to take a peek at what she knew waited between them. Over the past few days her heat had grown from a mere annoyance to a real obstruction, and she was loath to distract herself with unnecessary daydreams when she had work to do. Her horn glowed as she wrapped her magic around his foreleg, gently peeling it off her.

A low growl escaped him as he tightened his grip, pulling her against him, and she had to stifle a gasp as his talons tickling over her belly made her leg twitch. He rolled over, draping a hindleg across her flank and mumbling something into her mane.

Mirror remained totally still, heart pounding as she listened to his breathing. After several seconds she decided he must still be asleep, and she finally let out the breath she’d been holding. If he woke up without a meal ready then he’d probably just make one out of her instead; he cared very little for which of her copies was the “original,” and wouldn’t hesitate to take a lethal bite out of whichever mare happened to be in his grip already.

A tremble passed through her.

One wrong move—a stroke of bad luck—and he’d open her up in his sleep.

She bit her lip as a drip of arousal snaked down her leg. She could handle her heat on its own, but there was something about the fear of death that threw her mind into overdrive. She flicked her tail, feeling the weight of Gerrick’s balls.

It had been over a week since he’d indulged in her.

Equestria was like a field of flowers for him. Just as Mirror had predicted, the gullible pony maid from Equestria had roused a certain hunger in the griffon’s loins, and everywhere they went there were more mares and stallions, all so innocent, all so easy to trick, to isolate. Even just walking from one town to another exposed him to a veritable parade of possible toys, and every day he would pick one or two that caught his eye. Sometimes he’d order Mirror to assist, and she’d put on a friendly face, or perhaps feign weakness or terror from an unknown monster. It was easy enough to lure a helpful pony off the worn dirt paths and into some shadowed glen. At that point they were already dead, their fate determined entirely by Gerrick’s whims.

Other days, when Gerrick had his blood hot and they had the relative privacy of the small mountain trails and hoofpaths that wandered the Equestrian countryside, he wouldn’t bother with any pretense. Just yesterday they’d come across a thickset earth mare traveling alone with a small wagon full of flowers. Gerrick had taken one look at her, clicked his beak thoughtfully, and pounced on her without hesitation.

She had perhaps a brief second to scream before he’d torn her throat out, and he was already sliding his barbed shaft into her cunt as her blood gushed out into the dirt.

Mirror, much to her chagrin, was left to watch.

She squirmed in place, rubbing the lips of her marehood together. Watching him play with another mare always excited her, and she’d been left to satisfy herself with hoof and horn while he ate the used body. She needed him to hold her down, to take her in that way only he could, caring for her life only just enough to consider if he wanted to take it.

She grimaced and snuck a hoof down under her tail, feeling her pulse between her legs. She’d worked herself up and now she wouldn’t be able to focus.

But she still needed to prepare breakfast.

Then again… she could be in two places at once.

It took her almost a minute to work herself out of Gerrick’s grip, sliding down his belly and between his hind legs. Turning to the tent flap, she closed her eyes and cast her copy spell with bated breath.

When she opened her eyes, she was relieved to see that she was still crouched in the tent. Her fresh-born copy frowned at her from outside.

“This is very irresponsible of you,” the copy said. “You shouldn’t be daydreaming when you need to work.”

“Well, it’s too late now,” Mirror whispered back. “Go make breakfast, and next time I’ll do it.”

The copy gave a disapproving shake of her head. “Making copies to avoid work and satisfy yourself? You clearly need to be culled.”

“Oh, be quiet!” Mirror hissed. “Or are you going to sit and frown at me until the Master wakes up and we’re the only thing around to eat?”

They held each other’s gazes for a long second. Mirror had worked for Master Gerrick for a long time, and had used her copies extensively throughout, and she knew—they both knew—exactly what was really going on. The copy was just upset that she didn’t get to sate her heat. If Mirror had woken up in her place she’d feel exactly the same way, but luckily she hadn’t, and right now she wanted nothing more than the time to enjoy her luck.

Finally the copy stood up. With one last shake of her head she turned and stalked off, tail twitching in frustration.

Mirror wasted no time in closing the tent flap. Within seconds she was on her belly with one hoof snaked back between her legs, horn glowing as she lifted Master Gerrick’s leg to reveal her prize. His balls were draped heavily down the inside of his thigh, covered in a thin layer of steel grey fur.

She’d wake him up with her mouth, she decided. As long as he didn’t finish before breakfast was ready, she stood a decent chance of survival.

The thought might have given pause to another mare, but Mirror only licked her lips, leaning in to press her muzzle against his balls and drink in his scent. Perhaps a younger her might have hesitated, but she needed that risk to get off. It had been a long time since she’d reached orgasm without a proverbial axe hanging over her head.

Her tongue slipped out, curling around his balls as she softly sucked one into her mouth. A slight taste of sweat lingered, egging her on, and she let out a quiet moan. Her hoof worked a slow rhythm along the length of her slit, collecting the arousal drooling from within. Just a little bit of teasing to get him hard, first.

She didn’t have to wait long. Gerrick snorted, rolling sleepily onto his back as the head of his cock poked out from his sheath. Mirror watched with hungry eyes as it rose before her, sucking and licking at his balls all the while. In some ways Gerrick’s cock was the thing she lived for above all else. Though she still found some satisfaction in her duties as his head maidservant, they paled in comparison to the rush of putting her fragile life between his brutal talons.

She couldn’t wait any longer. She licked her way up his cock, delivering little kisses along the way to sample the taste, coaxing it into the stuffy air like a monster from its lair. By the time she reached the tip it had reached its full length. It twitched with the rhythm of his pulse, a glimmering bead of precum welling at the very tip, and she took it into her mouth with an eye-fluttering moan of lust, bobbing her head in sync with the hoof she had wedged up against her cunt.

It really had been too long.

The taste was familiar to her, carrying a masculine tang and the promise of greater things to come. She could barely focus on her plan with his cock sealed between her lips, and soon she found herself sitting up to get more leverage, sucking eagerly and grinding her hips into her hoof. Her pussy winked around her, begging to be filled, and she swallowed him smoothly into her throat. She was vaguely aware of his leg twitching and a sudden grunt from above her, but neither sensation pierced the fog of his musk. She pressed her nostrils up into his groin, drinking in a deep breath of the scent, and her marehood winked again in response, sending a shiver up her spine.

She moaned into him, perhaps a little louder than she’d thought.

“Mirror.” Sharp talons snaked through her mane, and she gasped as he pulled her off his cock. He regarded her with narrowed eyes. “Where’s my breakfast?”

A trail of drool was hanging from her chin, and she licked her lips in a vain attempt at cleaning it up. “Being prepared now, sir.”

He cocked his head, clacking his beak in thought. His gaze traveled down from her eyes, to her open mouth, to the heave of her chest.

Mirror had a very good sense for when Master Gerrick was thinking of killing her. Her arousal splattered quietly against the bedroll, and it took all her will to keep in the desperate moan building in her throat.

There was movement to the side, and both Mirror and Gerrick turned to watch as the copy snuggled against his flank—Mirror decided to think of her as Lazy—lifted her head. She blinked slowly, taking in the scene.

Finally, Gerrick spoke. “Very well. You may continue.” He released his grip, and Mirror fell immediately back to his cock. He looked to Lazy, jerking his head. “You, too.”

Mirror’s ears perked up at the order, and she moved to the side to give the other mare space to join her. They locked eyes as they split the cock between them, with Mirror continuing to suck at his head while Lazy dipped down to lick at his balls.

It had been a week since Lazy had been “born,” so Mirror couldn’t exactly know her thoughts like she would with a fresh copy, but the silent exchange that passed between them was clear. Whenever Master Gerrick fucked two Mirror Images, one always died.

Mirror had gone into this knowing there was a chance of death, but in her heat-addled mind she’d nearly forgotten about the other mare. Fifty-fifty was not good odds.

Her pulse quickened, and she looked away, focusing on the pre-dripping cock pulsing between her lips. It was a contest now. Only one of them was going to survive, and she just had to hope that she distinguished herself enough to be chosen.

Gerrick groaned as he settled back onto the bedroll, one mare draped over each hind leg as they slathered him with their attentions. The tent was soon filled with muffled feminine moans, the wet slurps of tongue on flesh, and the occasional quiet gag as he humped up into Mirror’s throat. She faltered briefly as she felt his talon pushing her hoof away from her slit, but shivered in pleasure as the talon pressed inside her a moment later. It slid up the length of her marehood before prodding at her swollen clit, driving a shaky moan out of her, and she melted back into it. Soon the first talon was joined by a second, and Gerrick began to fingerfuck her in earnest, the sharp tips of his claws tickling against her insides and making her twitch and giggle with each pulse of pleasure.

She barely noticed him grabbing hold of her mane until he pushed down with sudden strength. Her eyes bulged as her throat was suddenly filled with cock mid-breath and she began to gag. Rather than let her up to catch her breath, Gerrick pumped his hips, hilting against her muzzle and abusing the convulsions of her throat for his own pleasure.

Was he going to choke her with his cock? A nervous thrill raced through her, half panic, half lust, and her tail flagged high as he continued to pound roughly against her face. She’d stopped sucking by now; it was all she could do to hang onto his sides with her forehooves as he jerked her head up and down, flecks of spittle flying from her muzzle as a frothy trail of saliva drooled down his shaft and onto Lazy’s brow. His claws pistoned into her cunt from behind, sending hot waves of pleasure racing up her spine, and just as she thought was about to catch her breath and adjust to the wild facefucking, he pressed her down to the base of his shaft and didn’t let up.

Mirror’s first reaction was to moan around his cock, the vibrations drawing a snort of pleasure from above her. Then her fuck-drunk mind caught up and realized that she couldn’t breathe—and he wasn’t showing any signs of letting her—and the adrenaline flooded her veins, turning the pleasant tingles from the talons in her cunt to lightning strikes of ecstasy.

Her orgasm kept most of the terror at bay. She twitched helplessly, pussy winking in search of the cock currently embedded in her throat, and she groaned as a spurt of marecum squirted out past Gerrick’s knuckles. The darkness began to edge in at the corners of her vision as her infinity stretched on, the high of asphyxiation adding another layer of bliss and pushing the last of the fear out. He was killing her on his cock, and at that moment she was too horny to care.

But her rapture didn’t last forever, and the heart-stopping fear reared up like a viper. Her eyes widened as she came down from her high and she began to struggle, pushing against his legs, but she was far too weak to overpower him. His grip on her body didn’t move an inch.

Suddenly the pressure on her head vanished, and she shot up off his cock, struggling to expel the spit clogging her throat. She fell onto her back, gasping in great big breaths between the aftershocks of her orgasm as the darkness ringing her sight faded away.

Now if she could just get him to do that to her with his cock stuffing her cunt, she’d be satisfied.

Gerrick had been right on the edge, just seconds away from cumming, when he’d decided against it.

Among his peers back home, all griffon nobles with their own populations of pony peasantry, he was considered somewhat of a simple drake. While others might invest in expensive and intricate tools of torture, dungeons staffed by crews of trained sadists that could break a prey pony’s mind while barely harming the body, or master chefs that waxed on and on about the unique tastes that could be added to pony flesh by marinating the victim in different emotions prior to cooking, he considered them to be wasteful. Why would he want rope to hold a mare when he had perfectly good talons? Why use a knife when he could rip and tear with his beak and enjoy the taste of the freshest blood?

Maybe he really did just have bland tastes, but there was nothing more satisfying to him than killing his prey with his own natural strength.

Despite this, he did still enjoy some variety in his activities. Indeed, it was that thirst for new flavor that had driven him from his comfortable home, where he could select ponies at leisure to satisfy his hungers with no concern for potential consequences, and into this strange, naive, pony country.

Which was why he decided against choking his mare to death on his cock. Sure, the convulsions of a dying mare’s throat worked wonders for his orgasm, but he’d already done that three times this week, and he wanted to start the day off with something else.

So he’d decided to let her live a little longer. And now he stood over Mirror Image, idly stroking his balls and watching her twitch and spasm on the ground. She still had that eyes-fluttering, pupils-dilated, mouth-open look that she got whenever she came on his cock, and he gave himself a moment to drink it all in, eyeing the little scratches he’d given her around her body and the way her marehood winked between her legs, her clit twitching as if begging for his seed.

He stepped forward, wrapping one taloned hand around her neck as he slid his length across her lips, slicking himself with hot marecum. She let out a weak mewl, one hoof coming up to grab at his foreleg as he drew his hips back.

“Excuse me, sir.” The other Mirror Image slid up to Gerrick’s side with a sly, hungry smile. She crawled on top of the dazed mare on the ground, belly to belly, and flicked her tail up under Gerrick’s chin. “But may I present myself as an alternative option?” She gave a little shake of her hips, and her pussy joined in with a juicy wink, presenting her swollen clit.

Internally, Gerrick frowned. It was unlike Mirror to interrupt him in the middle of sex, let alone try to actually entice him. Normally she was impassive, quiet, focused on her work. She never turned him down, of course, but she also never went out of her way to get between his legs. It was only after he warmed her up that the formal, reserved mare would show any enthusiasm.

She didn’t even have his breakfast ready when he woke up. Had she been blowing him as some kind of stalling tactic to buy time for another copy to cook? He’d been neglecting her lately, playing with the more exciting Equestrians in her stead.

Was she… frustrated?

No matter, he decided. Whatever the issue was, it would be resolved with a quick culling.

Externally, his hesitation lasted only a moment. Culling or not, he still had a throbbing erection to service, and the sight of both Mirror’s presenting before him, their moans echoing in his ears, was only making him harder.

He grabbed tail in one claw and plot in the other, pulling and spreading to reveal the honeypot before him. Two swollen, twitching marehoods, each the color of smooth milk chocolate, their lips locked together in a lustful embrace broken only by the hot pink of their winking clits.

And the scent. The top Mirror flicked her tail across his face, marking him with her heat, and conscious thought left him.

He was already aligned. He thrust forwards roughly, uncaring which hole he found, and a wild snort escaped him as warm, wet marecunt enveloped his length. His grip tightened, talons piercing the soft skin of the ass beneath them, and his balls slapped against the lower Mirror’s pussy, receiving a kiss from her clit in return.

The feminine moan from his first plunge was still ringing in his ears as he pulled out, hips developing a steady but fierce rhythm. The wet smack of flesh on flesh filled the tent as he leaned over his mare, her flanks rippling with the force of each thrust. At the same time she worked her hips against him, clenching her walls around his length every time he hilted as if begging him not to leave and then relaxing to welcome him back every time he pulled out.

Gerrick had fucked countless mares over the course of his life, but he always found himself coming back to Mirror Image. Her pussy felt almost made for him, a perfect fit, squeezing his cock from every side with a grip so tight that it forced drops of hot marecum out between their bodies. He closed his eyes, relishing the ripple of her cunt across his length when he pulled out and the loud squelch it made every time he slammed back home. The hot, frothy mixture from their union dripped down his balls before pooling on the bedroll, soaking into the hairs that Mirror normally kept so carefully clean. She burned like a furnace inside, the chill air that rushed over his groin between thrusts only a brief respite, and soon sweat was pouring down Gerrick’s brow, splattering against her bouncing plot.

The air in the tent grew thick with the humid stench of sex, and not once did he slow down. He only pressed on, drawing blood when he flexed his talons and forcing Mirror’s moans ever higher. He pulled her against him by the tail, every muscle in his body working to drive him further into her, driven on by the overwhelming instinct to breed.

He released his grip on her ass and grabbed a clawful of mane instead, yanking her head back as she let out a shuddering, throaty moan. He pulled harder, lifting her up off the lower mare until he had her shoulders against his chest and was glaring down into her lidded, fluttering eyes, watching her tongue loll from her open mouth, every part of her body pressed up against him but for the small space formed by her arching back. She could barely move with him pulling so hard, but she still had the presence of mind to grind her rear against him, body trembling in pleasure.

A low growl escaped him as the pressure in his cock built, approaching his orgasm, making Mirror’s ears flick. She blinked, hazy eyes focusing for a brief moment on his, and then she came.

Mirror’s eyes rolled back and she let out a shrill wail, her pussy clenching as he hilted inside her, so tight he could barely pull free. He managed three more pumps past that vice-like tightness, feeling the tremors of her body against his, and then he reached the point of no return.

He pulled her tight against him as he hilted inside, grinding against her furiously winking cunt, heat dripping down his clenching balls, and the first spurt of cum rushed out to flood her marehood. As the second shot came he darted in with his beak, tearing into her exposed throat, and ripped free with a vicious shake.

Her orgasmic scream collapsed into a wet gurgle as blood welled up in her mouth, but she never stopped grinding against him. Gerrick let hot blood drip from his beak and down onto her face as he watched her cum, her mind so lost in rapture that he wondered if she even realized she was dying.

Whatever the case, she didn’t last long with her throat ripped open. Within seconds the passionate gyrations of her hips weakened into scattered twitches and the trembles of pleasure wracking her hooves drifted to nothing. Gerrick groaned as he pumped two more shots of cum into her pussy, and then he was cumming into a corpse.

He held her tight for a long moment after, enjoying the little shudders from her cunt as the last messages from her dying brain arrived to please him. He leaned in and licked at the blood dripping from the gaping wound in her neck as the aftershocks of his orgasm sent small twitches of bliss through his length, the overflow of cum drooling down his shaft.

Finally, Mirror’s pussy went lax. He released her, allowing the body to slump forwards with a soft thud and a last, breathy wheeze.

Gerrick took a deep breath as the temporary madness of lust left him. He tugged his softening cock from the mare’s limp body, pondering breakfast, and only then did he remember that there were two Mirrors in need of culling.

He looked down, spotting the other Mirror looking up at him past the corpse of her copy, her face painted red with blood. There was a strange look in her eyes, something between frustration and relief.

He blinked, and it was gone. She offered him a polite, servile smile. “Are you ready for breakfast, sir?”

“I’ll see about breakfast myself, Mirror,” he said, leaning in. She grunted as his bulk joined the weight of the dead mare above her. “I’m sure the copy you sent to prepare it will be pleased to replace you.”

Mirror blinked. There was a moment of confusion, and then a wide-eyed flash of realization, and then Gerrick’s beak was buried in the soft flesh under her chin. She had just enough time to babble some incoherent words past the blood welling in her muzzle, and then she, too, fell still.

He straightened up with a satisfied sigh, absently noting the last wink of the fresh corpse’s cunt against his receding cock, and then stood up. He groaned as he stretched his legs, working out the cramps that had built up in the heat of his lust.

He really was hungry, too.

Mirror Image shivered, looking up from the pot of stew she’d just finished preparing on the campfire. The smell of seasoned earth mare wafted out from the pot, accented with spices purchased during their last town stop.

She had just become the new “original.” The mare that had summoned her, irresponsibly sending her off to do her tasks while she indulged in her passions, had gotten what she deserved.

Master Gerrick walked out of their tent with blood on his beak and dripping down the gold feathers of his plumage. Behind him, she caught a brief glimpse of two still bodies.

“Morning, Mirror,” he said, scanning the little clearing of their campsite. “Breakfast ready?”

“Yes, sir.” Mirror smiled, already filling a bowl for her master with her magic. “Shall I clean the bodies?”

“Make it quick, if you will.” He accepted the bowl and settled down against a tree, tongue darting out to lick the blood from his beak. “There’s plenty more of Equestria to see.”