Author's Note

CONTAINS: Poor camping sites, throatfucking, all the way through, a gruesome end, no pleasure for Mirror, a moderate inconvenience for Gerrick, a good day for a chimera, breath "play", and non-standard definitions of "eating her out."

II: Mirror Image Collects Firewood

“Mirror, where’s the fire?”

Mirror Image frowned, tossing her mane as she straightened up to clear the sweat from her brow. “I sent a copy to collect firewood, sir. She hasn’t come back yet.”

Master Gerrick clacked his beak in annoyance. He looked up to the sky, where the warm hues of sunset were giving ground to the cool blue of early night. “Well, how much longer? It’ll be cold soon, and I’m getting hungry.”

Mirror pursed her lips. It had been a fairly uneventful day of travel; the last village was days behind them, and the road had been all but empty except for a few small-time tradesponies and their wagons. They were passing through a swamp when Master Gerrick had called a stop and ordered her to prepare the camp while he searched the surrounding area for some fresh meat—he was in a sporting mood after the long walk, it seemed—and so she’d gone about her usual routine. She already had the tent pitched and the wagon stowed under tree cover off the road, and another copy was preparing a firepit and cooking utensils.

But the copy she’d sent to forage for wood and berries had yet to return.

“I’ll send another, sir.” Even besides the needs of her master, Mirror wanted that fire started. Camping in cold, humid, night time swampland didn’t sound very appealing, and if any predators tried to brave their camp, it would be her or one of her copies that would end up paying for it. And the darker it got, the harder it would be to find good firewood, so if something had happened to the first copy she sent, she didn’t want to waste any time waiting longer.

“See that you do.” Master Gerrick nodded before brushing past her and slipping into the tent. “You can entertain me while we wait.”

“Yes, sir.” Mirror smiled as she turned away from the tent, gathering her magic. She closed her eyes, weaving the arcane energy into the familiar shape of her most-used spell—

She opened her eyes, and her smile fell to a frown as she realized she’d drawn the short straw. The original Mirror was still smiling at her, no doubt glad she’d get to have some quality time with the master.

“Go on, quickly,” the original said, already turning for the tent. “We don’t want to keep the master waiting.”

Mirror sighed, but didn’t protest. Instead she started toward the edge of the little roadside clearing where they’d made camp, grabbing a collar from their luggage wagon and casting a quick spell to apply her makeup. She followed the tracks of the copy that had first been sent to forage at a quick trot. With luck, she had just gotten lost, and all Mirror would have to do is find her and bring her back to camp.

The ground grew softer as she put more distance between herself and the road, and soon Mirror found herself walking along narrow, winding paths between murky pools of dark water. The trees thickened, and as the last dregs of sunlight faded, she was left in near-total darkness, with only the pale green glow of her horn to illuminate the coarse, belly-height grass scratching at her legs. She frowned as she grabbed a small branch and floated it up to her eyes, noting the dampness of the wood. No wonder her copy hadn’t come back yet; there was hardly any good firewood around.

Mirror, glanced behind her, ears flicking at the croaking of the frogs and the chirping of the insects. The camp had long disappeared into the darkness, and for a moment she considered turning back. But no, Master Gerrick would almost certainly kill her if she returned empty-hooved, and there was also her pride at stake; it was the job of the master to make unrealistic requests, and the job of the maid to fulfill them anyways. Any difficulties she had to overcome in the process belonged well beneath his notice, and she wouldn’t shame herself by bringing them to his attention.

There was a rustle of leaves above her. Mirror jumped, startled by the sudden noise, and looked up. She could just make out the shape of the branches overhead, silhouetted by starlight… and something else.

She yelped, leaping back as something big shifted above her, and narrowly avoided being struck by a pony-sized shadow that fell out of the trees. It hit the ground with a dull, wet smack, disappearing in the grass.

A few seconds passed in silence. Cautiously Mirror stepped forwards, ears swiveling, ready to flee at any sign of danger. She pushed more power into her horn, brightening its glow as she reached out and pulled the grass aside.

Her own face gaped back up at her, bloodied and bruised. The missing copy’s corpse was bent out of shape in several places, still twitching with the last dregs of life, and her belly had been torn open, revealing an empty, red space where her guts should’ve been. That was all Mirror’s panicked mind registered before she turned, throwing herself into a gallop straight back for the camp.

She made it two steps before the branches shook mightily above her, and an instant later something slender but firm snapped around her neck.

“Hrrk!” Her eyes bulged as the thing jerked her back, pulling her off her hooves. She scratched at it in vain, trying to get some grip, but it was covered in slick scales.

A sibilant hiss sounded beside her, and Mirror’s blood went cold as she felt a serpentine tongue flicking over the sensitive fluff inside her ear.

“What a pleassant ssurprisse.” The voice was feminine and breathy, speaking in a sinister tone that hinted at darker thoughts left unspoken. “Just as the firsst mare ssettless, a ssecond sstumbless into ssight!”

Mirror continued to struggle as she was hauled up into the trees, but her captor didn’t budge in the slightest. It set her down onto a thick branch, its grip on her throat remaining firm, and she let out a strangled cry as she finally got a good look at her attacker.

The first thing she saw was the huge, striped tiger’s head, its massive fangs curving down past its chin and already stained red with the blood of its last victim. Then her eyes darted over to the grinning goat head leering over the tiger’s shoulder, chipped horns decorated with drooping intestines and its mouth open to reveal sharp predator teeth mixed in with flat molars. Finally the wide head of a snake bobbed into view, and Mirror whimpered as she realized that it was the thing still flexing tight around her neck, cutting off her breath.

“How strange,” the tiger head said, its voice deep and scratchy. “This one looks just like the other!”

“Do you think she tastes the same, too?” the goat asked eagerly. It leaned forwards, its wide tongue slicking over Mirror’s face as she cringed back, and its breath carried the stench of death. “I want first bite!”

Mirror’s mouth flapped uselessly as she gasped for breath, but the snake only squeezed tighter. Her vision began to darken as the pressure in her skull grew, wet tears leaving streaks of mascara across her cheeks, and she was faintly aware of moisture sinking into her tail as she pissed herself in terror.

The pressure vanished as she was tossed off the branch. Mirror tried to suck in a breath during the brief instant of freefall, only to have it knocked out of her as she hit the ground hard. She spent an agonizing second sprawled out in the coarse grass, blinking and dazed, and again, just as she was able to get a breath, it was knocked out of her as the chimera landed heavily atop her.

She didn’t have the air to scream, but she did manage a quiet squeal. Pain flashed in her shoulder as claws dug into her flesh and flipped her onto her back.

Something hard and hot forced itself into her gaping muzzle. Mirror’s throat convulsed in protest as the intruder sank deeper, her collar snapping painfully as her neck bulged. She gagged, unable to do anything more but twitch and spasm helplessly around the thing as it pumped viciously down her gullet, deeper every time.

She could barely think past the shock and confusion. Some subconscious part of her realized that the chimera was raping her throat, clued in by the smack of its heavy balls over her eyes and the powerful scent of its masculine musk flooding her nostrils, but that realization was faint beneath the desperate urge to breathe. She snuck in quick breaths whenever it pulled out, the barbs along its tapered cock scraping harshly across her throat, but it was never enough to quell the panic filling her mind. All she could do was lie there, pushing weakly against the chimera’s goat legs, kept on the torturous edge of consciousness by her stolen snorts of oxygen as the back of her head was pounded into the wet grass.

She barely heard the chimera growling above her, but she felt it in the vibrations that traveled through its cock. She whined around its length as it sunk the claws of one paw into her belly, holding her in place, the wounds growing gradually larger as every thrust pushed her across the ground, and out of the corner of her eye she spotted the snake head hovering lower, its gaze focused on the space between her legs.

Mirror’s eyes screwed up as she felt the forked tongue of the snake head inside her thighs, followed shortly by its scales as it pressed against her lower lips. It was far wider than any cock she’d ever taken, but it was relentless, pushing and twisting and coaxing its way inside her, making her eyes water in pain as she was stretched wider than she was ever meant to. Finally, just as she was sure her hip would pop apart from the pressure, the snake head plunged fully inside her, leaving her sore marehood to clench and shudder reflexively around it.

The snake head was wide and coarse, forcing its way deeper inside her with quick, merciless jerks, with only the lingering piss from her previous terror to serve as lube. She winced when it bumped up against her cervix, pausing briefly to flick its tongue out into her womb, and then it tensed, coiling up before stabbing back into her like a battering ram. Mirror clenched in an instinctive attempt to push the thing out of her, but all that got her was more pain as the sensitive walls of her pussy were bloodied by its scales.

Tears flowed freely down Mirror’s cheeks as the ruthless rape continued, the tips of her hooves beginning to go cold as blood poured from the wound on her belly and dripped from her marehood. She wanted to die, to finally give in to the head-pounding darkness, but the burning in her lungs wouldn’t let her. No matter how hard she tried, her body would suck in every breath it could, keeping her on the very edge of consciousness.

There was a sharp pain in her cunt as her cervix finally gave in, letting the snake head squeeze into her womb. She whimpered at the sensation of the thing sliding around inside her, feeling her belly bulge in response. There was a sudden lance of white-hot agony, followed by a twist, and she had enough air in her to scream around the chimera’s cock as the snake head began to quite literally eat her out. At the same time she felt a grinding pain in her hind leg as the goat head grabbed her hind leg in the flat teeth at the back of its mouth, jerking the limb side to side until it popped out of its joint.

Thankfully, she was beyond pain by that point. Merciful endorphins flooded her system, swathing her in an odd calmness as the goat head tore her leg free in a spray of blood. She went limp, the only motion of her body now the rippling of her soft teats as the chimera continued to throatfuck her and the bulge of the snake head worming its way deeper into her gut. She tracked its progress with distant curiosity, feeling the tugs as it ate its way through her womb, slurped through her intestines, and chewed into her stomach. Her eyes lost focus, rolling up into her skull as her body began to twitch violently in a last, wild attempt at survival. The chimera pushed its claws into her harder in response, jamming its cock up against her muzzle, its balls tightening over her nostrils, and her throat bulged as it pumped the first shot of hot cum down her gullet.

She barely felt it. She was just a spasming mass of meat now, clinging to the last dregs of consciousness as she was filled with thick seed and blood. They mixed together before leaking through the hole torn into her stomach, bloating her gut and then finally dripping into her pussy, the pressure building until it was forced out of her from every side—leaking from the wounds in her belly, dripping from her lips trembling around its cock, and spraying past the tight seal of her twitching cunt clenched around the snake head’s body.

The last thing she felt was her belly splitting open—whether from the claws of her rapist or the pressure of the cum inside her, she couldn’t know—and then she was mercifully free.

Back at camp, Gerrick clacked his beak in frustration.

Mirror rubbed a hoof into his plumage, nuzzling into his side. “Is something wrong, sir?”

“You know what’s wrong,” he said tersely. “Neither of those copies have come back, and we still have no fire. Now I’m not only hungry, but also cold.”

There was a brief moment of silence before Mirror responded. “Would you like me to make a copy for dinner?”

“No, what I’d like is a nice fire.” He looked down at her with a scowl.

She grimaced, looking away. “I’m sorry, sir. Something must have caught them, else they’d surely be back by now.”

“I don’t care.” Gerrick shook his head, turning his scowl to the roof of his tent. “I want my damn fire. Send as many mares as it takes.”