The Destruction of a Name
A beam of light cut through the darkened chamber.
It was the first taste of illumination that Twilight had received in nearly a day. Soon, it grew as the door opened and practically flooded her surroundings. She blinked away the sudden brightness, flinching from it.
A figure approached, their hooves clopping against the cobblestone.
As Twilight’s vision returned to her, she recognized this figure.
“Rarity,” she rasped.
Her throat was parched and lips cracked. Light wasn’t the only thing she had been denied for an entire day.
“Have we met?” Rarity said.
She looked colder than usual, her eyes devoid of their generous warmth and posture rigid and unnatural. She wore a piece of crisp attire that reminded Twilight of the dress uniform Shining used to wear. Though, it was darker and of a more nocturnal nature. Her hair was also tied up into a tight bun, instead of let loose in its usual free manner.
Twilight swallowed. “I guess not.”
“I’m surprised that word of me has reached beyond these chambers,” Rarity said. Her horn glowed and she produced a canteen, hovering it before Twilight’s lips. “I thought that escape from here was an impossibility.” She scoffed. “Though I guess you’ve proved that assumption wrong.”
Twilight wrapped her lips around the stem and greedily drank. The water was cool, quenching the worst of her thirst.
Rarity drew it away, studying her closely. Her gaze was quizzical and hard to read.
“What?” Twilight asked.
Rarity shook her head. “Our Queen warned us about a creature such as yourself. A false alicorn who would try to shatter her rule. Though I assumed there would only be one of you.”
“Queen?” Twilight asked.
“Our beloved lady, Nightmare Moon,” Rarity said.
Twilight swallowed a lump in her throat. She knew that her journey to find Starlight had taken her to many realms, but she had never thought that such a universe would be possible.
“I’m just… visiting,” she said.
Rarity smirked. “You seem to be a rather important figure to just be a mere visitor, darling” She reached out and caressed Twilight’s cheek. “I’ve been tasked to bring you to the High Inquisitor herself. Your sudden capture has ruffled quite a few feathers.”
“The High Inquisitor?” Twilight whispered.
That title had bad intentions written all over it. The mere name, and the way Rarity spoke it, was enough to send a shiver crawling up her spine.
She drew in a breath, letting it out slowly. “Look, I’m just trying to return home and…”
“Home?” Rarity asked. “And what band of brigands do you belong to?” She chuckled. “I thought we crushed the last of you vermin when we shattered Cloudshelm but it would seem that you just have a way of popping up again and again.” She tapped Twilight on the cheek, being quite firm though not quite slapping her “You should be honoured. It isn’t often that a High Inquisitor decides to grace us mere commoners with their presence.”
“I’m sure they’re lovely,” Twilight whispered.
Rarity smirked. “Oh, Lady Fleur is. She is the very definition of radiance. And she works with such efficiency.” She sighed. “I once witnessed her break a mare to the point that she slit her own wife’s throat just to avoid spending another moment under her care.”
Twilight went pale, her jaw agape. Though as she tried to close it, the muscles refused to budge. Not from horror but from literal paralysis.
This development promptly resulted in Twilight making a panicked little noise.
“Ah wonderful, it looks like the muscle relaxants are starting to kick in,” Rarity said. She drew away from Twilight. “I do apologize for my small act of deception, but I know how dangerous an alicorn can be. I’ve heard the stories from the veterans tasked with hunting down Cadance.”
She reached the door and waved to a party outside before drawing back in.
“Maybe Her Radiance will tell you all about it. Her husband was in charge of breaking the supposed Princess,” Rarity said.
Two guards entered the room. Both were clad in dark armour with ears that gave them away as Thesterals. They approached Twilight, bracing her weight between them.
Her chains clung to her, for a moment. But they gave way as Rarity’s magic unlocked them.
Rarity led the way out of the chamber and into a well-lit hall.
Twilight couldn’t see anything but the floor as she didn’t have the strength to even lift her head. Though her ears were open, listening to the sounds of absolute destitution around her. There were groans of agony, ponies pleading to the entourage who carried her along. They asked for mercy, food, water, anything to elevate their sorrow.
She felt tears prickle in her eyes but couldn’t even blink them away as they instead drew twin streaks down her cheeks.
Thankfully, the journey was short as they entered a less abysmal hallway. At least, Twilight assumed such as the bare cobblestone was replaced with elegant carpeting that reminded Twilight of a darker version of Canterlot Castle.
They came upon a room and Rarity knocked on its door. “We’ve arrived with your guest, High Inquisitor!”
“Bring her in,” a familiar voice called.
Rarity opened the door and the three ponies stepped inside, hauling Twilight in with them.
“She looks half dead,” Fleur whispered. “Was she wounded? There was no mention of…”
“Not at all, Your Radiance,” Rarity interrupted. “I knew how dangerous Alicorns could be so I slipped her some potent muscle relaxers until she could be brought into your care. I didn’t want to risk her attempting an escape.”
“Oh, that is very resourceful of you, Rarity,” Fleur responded.
Twilight could practically hear Rarity beaming at the compliment.
“Well, place her upon the bed. There’s nothing I can do until she stirs,” Fleur said.
Twilight was hauled over and thrust upon the bed. She was turned in such a manner that she could look straight ahead, seeing Fleur and Rarity.
Fleur looked very much the same from this angle, with the only difference being the fact that she wore a uniform very similar to Rarity’s own. Though as she turned to face Twilight, she could see that there was a massive and gnarly scar that coloured her other cheek. It must’ve come from a truly gruesome wound.
“So where did you come from?” Fleur asked herself. She approached Twilight, sashaying with every step. “I assumed that Cadance was the only false prophet within these domains.”
She studied Twilight closely, reaching out to touch her. Though she flinched away at the last second, as if this mere act would kill her.
“Do you know Cadance?” Fleur asked.
Twilight tried a response but only managed to wheeze.
Fleur smirked. “My husband tells me that she held out for two weeks before accepting Our Queen’s gracious gift. I wonder if I can best his time with you.”
Her horn glowed and she drew forth a stylish metal case, popping it open and grabbing a cigarette. She lit the tip with a cantrip before inhaling and holding it for a moment. Only then did she let it out, rolling a billow of smoke directly into Twilight’s face.
“You know, he let me visit him while he worked her over,” Fleur said. “I am truly impressed by the endurance you alicorns have. Any mere mortal would’ve been dead a couple days in but there was so much fight in her.” She snorted. “Even more surprised that she recovered. Our great Queen saw the potential in her and I must say she was correct. There are few enforcers who carry out bloodshed with such glee.”
She drew away from Twilight and made her way over to Rarity. “So how have you been, dear.”
“I’ve been good, High Inquisitor,” Rarity said, bowing her head slightly. “Her Gloriousness has seen fit to provide me with the materials and facilities to start on my designs.”
“I’m proud of you, little one. You’ll become this generation’s Hoofo Boss in no time,” Fleur said.
Rarity shook her head. “I don’t know about that. I doubt that any pony could top the uniforms he designed.”
Fleur took another puff of the cigarette before placing it in an ashtray. She then touched an intimately tender hoof to Rarity’s cheek. “You will eclipse him, if you remain in Fancy’s good graces, dear.”
Rarity’s cheeks warmed. “Of course, High Inquisitor.”
“Come, I could use a distraction while we wait for our false prophet to overcome the cocktail you gave her,” Fleur said.
She made her way over to a lounging chair, plopping down upon it. Rarity followed soon behind, sitting at the foot of her sofa.
Fleur smirked and spread her hindlegs, exposing herself to both Twilight and Rarity. Rarity leaned in without question and lapped away. A faint moan oozed forth from Fleur as she looked at Twilight with an unwavering gaze.
“You know, Rarity,” Fleur teased. “I remember when you used to be so hesitant to accept my favours. Thankfully, you learned the benefits of accepting my kindness.”
Her magic gripped Rarity’s attire, popping open the buttons.
“Fancy made a very convincing argument,” Rarity whispered.
Fleur drew Rarity’s jacket down, exposing a back that was crisscrossed with ugly marks that had scarred over long ago.
“He did,” she said.
Twilight made a startled noise, though it came out as little more than a helpless gurgle.
Fleur’s gaze refused to fall away from Twilight’s face as she presented her with an amused little smile. It was like she could read Twilight’s mind, seeing the best way to cause her duress before they had even begun her interrogation.
The High Inquisitor’s voice also held steady, rising and falling in ebbs and flows that matched the elegance of Rarity’s tongue work.
Twilight attempted to stir, though her body felt like it was embraced by the worst case of sleep paralysis ever. Only, this was far worse. The demons who mocked her were very much real, sitting there in front of her.
Slowly, however, she could feel her muscles start to twitch, trembling slightly. It was movement, if only the barest form.
Fleur allowed herself a small but contented smile, pressing her lips firmly together. Her magic formed around Rarity’s mane, pressing her even tighter against her sopping wet sex. Rarity did not complain and merely continued with her task.
“Just be thankful that I find the marks of our abuse so attractive,” she teased. “You are like the cotton that you so readily use. It has to endure so much brute force and trauma to be transformed into an acceptable state.”
Rarity started to shiver softly, and that’s when Twilight noticed that her mouth and nose were completely smothered in Fleur’s crotch.
She couldn’t breathe!
Twilight clenched her muscles to the best of her ability, pushing against the nearly total stiffness that seized her joints. It was hard but she could feel them start to give, tremoring with more and more vigour.
Finally, her hoof twitched. Twilight could see the excitement in Fleur’s eye. Her tormentor let go of Rarity’s mane, drawing her away and allowing her to breathe.
“Oh, the false prophet is beginning to stir!” she beamed. “How much muscle relaxant did you put in her water?”
Rarity drew in a shaky breath, wiping at her snout with a hoof. “Enough to knock out an earth pony for several hours.”
“Well, this is simply marvelous,” Fleur said. She grabbed a notebook, flipping it over. As she wrote within it, she started to narrate. “Alicorn test subjects metabolize substances at a rate many times greater than a pony of equivalent size.”
She placed the bottom of the pen between her lips and started to nibble on it.
Then her eyes brightened as she returned to the notepad. “Might be worth looking into the application of small quantities of toxin for our interrogations. Potentially something that could stimulate the effects of a heart attack.”
Twilight’s eyes widened and she drew in the sharpest breath she could manage. Though it was still little more than a laboured wheeze.
Fleur drew the notepad to her side and started to size up Twilight from multiple angles. She reached out again, hesitant, but managed to actually touch Twilight’s flesh this time. Her hoof felt cold and pulsed with an energy that would’ve sent a shiver up her spine if it were not so numb.
“I’ll admit that I’m a little scared,” Fleur said, looking to Rarity. “I know that our subject is a mere false prophet but to lay a hoof upon an alicorn…” She shook her head. “It almost feels like sacrilege in a way.”
“I believe being an enemy to Her Majesty outranks any claims to royalty that she might have,” Rarity interjected.
Fleur nodded. “This is true.”
She then touched the wings and a look of wonderment soon overtook her.
“Wow,” she whispered. “They feel so natural.”
That’s because they are, you sadistic witch.
“These offer us a very exciting opportunity,” Fleur said, looking at Twilight. “The screams I can get out of just a pair of wings is unreal.” She caressed them along the incredibly fragile bones connecting it to her side. “This region has one of the highest concentrations of nerves in the entire body. I could split open the flesh and toy with them until your mind is broken with agony.”
She shook her head and looked at Rarity. “Do you think that Her Majesty would enjoy a pillow stuffed with these feathers.”
“She did adore a similar gift from your husband when he finished with the generals of Cloudshelm,” Rarity said.
Fleur clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “You don’t think it’d be tacky to just get her the same thing?”
“I believe…” Rarity smirked at Twilight. “I believe that while normally that may be a little cliché, I think Her Majesty would very much enjoy a second pillow like that.”
“I trust your judgement,” Fleur said.
She continued her cycle around Twilight, falling out of view. Though a second later, Twilight felt magic around her tail. The spell gripped it tight and pulled it away from her lower lips.
Her cheeks flushed as Fleur let out a contented little noise.
“What a pretty hole,” she whispered. “Looks like a stallion has yet to touch it. I’ll have to make sure to remedy that.”
Twilight continued to try and move, working on whatever muscles would budge first. Her tail soon responded, tugging weakly against Fleur’s magical essence.
The High Inquisitor surrendered an amused note. “Oh please, you got to see mine, I feel it’s only fair that I get to see yours.”
She sighed and came back into view. Her gaze was on a cabinet near her desk.
“Rarity, would you mind grabbing my first aid kit?” she asked.
Rarity nodded and dutifully made her way over, grabbing the kit and offering it to Fleur.
“Normally, I wouldn’t want to rush things,” Fleur said. “But it’s rare that I get a test subject of your unique characteristics.”
She unzipped the kit and grabbed a syringe that was full of some kind of solution. Rarity then took the kit back and Fleur advanced with the needle. She stabbed it into Twilight’s toned rump and depressed the plunger.
For a moment, there was a coolness in her side. Then nothing. This nothingness lasted for maybe five seconds before something kicked into gear. Her heart thundered and her eyes focused like a hawk.
Soon, her muscles responded, breaking through their paralysis as she gasped for breath.
“Fuck,” she rasped. “What…”
“Adrenaline,” Fleur said. “Just a little something to help get you started.”
She discarded the needle into a nearby bin before making her way back towards her desk.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” Fleur asked.
Twilight opened her mouth to shout down the request but Fleur held up a hoof.
“You are already in my presence and I have no reason to disable you again,” Fleur said.
With her magic, she produced a bottle of sparkling water, filling two flutes with it. She drank one herself before offering the other to Twilight, proving that if it was poisoned then she’d be going along for the ride.
Twilight attempted to take it with her magic but remembered the ring around her horn. Instead, she clumsily grabbed it in her shaking hooves, gulping it down greedily.
“Now I have some questions for you, false prophet,” Fleur said.
Twilight scoffed. “And I have some for you.”
“I am free to engage in a dialog if you wish,” Fleur said. “Though if you want honesty from me, then I expect the same from you.”
She made her way over to a nearby piece of paneling, placing a hoof upon it. It seemed to recognize her presence as it parted, revealing a wall that was filled with all sorts of instruments designed for suffering. There were blades, canes, crops, and all manner of designs that Twilight thought only existed as the relics of a more barbaric time.
“You may go first,” Fleur said, not even bothering to look at her.
“Where am I?” Twilight asked.
Fleur smirked. “You are in the bowels of the Night Palace.” She pursed her lips, grabbing some sort of brass pear with a handle at the bottom. “My turn. What’s your name?”
Twilight watched as Fleur pulled the handle and the pear expanded greatly in size.
“Twilight,” she whispered, swallowing a lump in her throat. “Twilight Sparkle.”
There was a pause.
“Well, your next question?” Fleur beaconed.
Twilight shook her head. “Oh, right.” She pondered it for a moment. “What did your husband do to Rarity?”
Fleur smirked. “Rarity, would you mind answering that for me.”
Rarity beamed. “I failed to see his attention as a blessing and foolishly denied his advances. He worked me over for a week, using a bullwhip to carve the marks into my flesh that remain with me to this day.”
“Do they still hurt?” Twilight asked.
Fleur tutted. “Now, now, you don’t get two questions. This is a one for one exchange.”
She replaced the egg for some sort of cane made of rattan wood. Twilight had heard about them before from Rarity. Well, her own Rarity. They were a tool for bringing both pain and pleasure, apparently. Though she assumed Fleur had pain at the forefront of her mind.
“Which band of rebels are you from?” Fleur asked
Twilight drew in a breath. “None of them. I… I’m a visitor to this Empire.”
Fleur raised a brow. “Is that so?”
Twilight nodded. “What do you intend to do with me?”
“Well, your very existence is an affront to Her Majesty’s reign,” Fleur said. “As such you will be broken by myself and reshaped into a tool for Her Majesty’s use.” She smirked. “The process will be extremely painful, my dear.”
Twilight swallowed a lump in her throat. “Oh.”
“I suppose I should ask one final question,” Fleur said. She seemed content with the rattan, bringing it over. “If you are not a brigand, where do you come from?”
Twilight sighed. “You won’t believe me.”
“I’ve heard many stories,” Fleur teased. “So try me.”
Twilight drew in a breath and let it out slowly.
“I come from another Equestria,” she said. “One where Luna and her sister rule together and there is no need for… a mare of your position. I was brought here because I was hunting a sorceress and entered into some sort of universal paradox. I’ve been brought to more than a dozen failed Equestrias over the last few days.”
Fleur scoffed. “Failed Equestrias? This is not a failure.”
“It is in my eyes,” Twilight said. “Any Equestria with this much pain and suffering is a failure.”
“Well, I will admit that your story has tickled my interest,” Fleur said. She advanced upon Twilight. “And do I exist in your Equestria?”
Twilight nodded. “You and your husband are members of the aristocracy. You’re renowned for your generosity.”
“And you seem to know of Rarity,” Fleur said.
Rarity glanced between the two mares.
Twilight looked at her. “In my world she is a close friend and one of the Princesses’ champions. She bears an Element of Harmony.”
Fleur’s eyes widened at the mention of this artifact.
“I see,” she murmured.
“And you believe me?” Twilight asked, shaking her head in disbelief.
Fleur nodded. “I couldn’t sense a lie and I am an expert at reading ponies.”
Her horn glowed and enveloped a shelf within her desk, pulling it open. She withdrew some kind of black leather case with runic symbols on top.
“Rarity, would you mind holding this?” Fleur asked, offering her the cane.
Rarity nodded and took it before slinking away.
Fleur opened the box and within it was a very familiar pendant. It sent a chill crawling up Twilight’s spine.
“The Alicorn Amulet,” Twilight whispered.
Fleur smirked. “So, these do exist in your reality?”
“These,” Twilight yelped. “There’s more than one?”
Fleur nodded. “Gifted to only those who have displayed complete and utter loyalty to Her Majesty. I believe that only a dozen of them exist.”
She slipped it on over her neck and soon a potent shudder coursed through her entire being. A groan oozed forth and her eyes momentarily flashed with such a sinister and foreboding red.
“God that’s always such a kick,” Fleur whispered.
When her horn glowed, there were now ethereal tinges of red cling to her mana.
Her magic slowly coiled around Twilight’s body. It felt cold and clammy, perverted in some way. It was both impossibly hot and eerily cool. It was the very definition of unnatural.
Soon a band of magic wrapped around each of Twilight’s forelegs. With this leverage, Fleur pulled them in every direction. The tension was enough to make Twilight yelp, groaning as her joints were stressed by the pressure.
“Do you feel helpless, false prophet?” Fleur asked.
She ripped the cane from Rarity’s magic and cracked it down roughly upon Twilight’s flank. The impact was loud and potent. It drove deep into her flesh and would surely leave a welt behind. That is, if it hadn’t already broken flesh.
“Do you feel despair?” Fleur asked.
She rammed the cane down a second and third time. Each blow was equally potent, with no warm up or care for Twilight’s well being. Her flesh became a canvas, meant to channel Fleur’s sadistic desires.
She whimpered and groaned, yelping with every mark that was so brutally left behind. It wasn’t long before her flesh was inflamed and tenderized, well broken.
As Fleur drew the cane away, Twilight saw that there was no crimson upon it. Surprising considering how much her hindquarters ached.
Tears licked at her eyes and her scowl failed to retain its shape.
“I do apologize for the brutality,” Fleur commented, smirking at her. “Usually, I am a far more elegant worksmare when it comes to this. But my muse today is just whispering all sorts of sinister desires into my ear.” She glanced at Rarity. “You understand?”
Rarity nodded. “Don’t let me critique you for bowing to inspiration. It’s so rare to find.”
Fleur nodded, once more turning her attention towards Twilight. She drew forth the cane, gliding it across her hindquarters. Her flesh had risen, covered in all sorts of aggravated marks. The weapon was rough, made of some incredibly coarse material.
“Think of it like this, false prophet,” Fleur teased. “You are like a rough steak and I am a master chef. I need to tenderize you well before you’re ready to be served.”
She drew the cane back and thwapped her roughly on the rump. While it wasn’t a brutal blow, like the previous few, it was still enough to rip a note of discomfort from her voice.
“Rarity, would you be a dear and grab…” She glanced at the wall of tools, humming to herself. “OH! That one?”
She nodded towards something, though Twilight couldn’t possibly make out what it was.
Rarity beamed. “Of course, High Inquisitor.”
With that, Fleur turned back, rolling her eyes. “You’re likely thinking that I’m going to grill you over for information. But I’ll be honest with you, false prophet, there is nothing that you could possibly know that would be beneficial to us.” She smirked. “Her Majesty knows everything that happens within her realm and every band of brigands that still exists does so at her pleasure.”
Fleur smirked and touched a tender hoof to Twilight’s tearstained cheek.
“The reason I am doing that is because I want you to become part of Her Majesty’s grand vision,” she said. “You were obviously a highly capable mare for your own royal house and I wish to import those skills here. But I also know that you do not truly believe in the sincerity of our cause, and that must be remedied before...”
Twilight grimaced. “Fuck you.”
She spat at Fleur, though the mare ducked to the side, avoiding the glob of mucus.
Her only reward for this act of defiance was a firm slap across the face. The blow was hard enough to send Twilight’s world spiralling.
“I like your defiance, dear,” Fleur teased. “Defiance means that there’s a desire for life in you, and when there’s a desire for life, that means you have something to lose.”
She sighed and watched as Rarity returned.
Rarity held out a tool that Twilight recognized. It was a staple gun. Though this one was powered by a lever and not compressed air.
Fleur took it from her, inspecting it closely. “Not exactly what I asked for, but I suppose this will do nicely.”
She smirked cruelly at Twilight, using the gun to brush aside her bangs.
“I’m going to make you sing for me,” she said.
She drew the gun down to Twilight’s side, pressing it firmly into her ribs and pulling the trigger.
Twilight screamed as a staple broke skin, sinking into her flesh. She’d scream again and again, with growing intensity, as Fleur drew a trail of little metal studs along her side, leading towards her flank.
By now, Twilight’s tears flowed so freely, staining her cheeks and leaving her eyes inflamed.
“Oh, this isn’t even the worst that I could hurt you,” Fleur teased.
She came up behind Twilight, hovering her snout right above her captive’s lower lips. A burst of warm moist breath curled at Twilight’s cunny as Fleur enjoyed her scent. Though the scent didn’t prove to be enough of a treat as Fleur pressed her tongue into Twilight, parting her folds and sinking deep into her.
Twilight groaned and gritted her teeth, trying her best not to respond to Fleur’s advances. Her face was flushed with shame, and as she looked at Rarity, she saw that she was watching her intently.
Fleur rolled her tongue around with precision and it wasn’t long before a reluctant moan dribbled forth. Though it was soon followed by a sob of shame as a fresh bout of tears coloured her already miserable complexion.
Rarity approached her and placed a hoof upon her cheek. “The High Inquisitor is trying to show you mercy, shrew. I’d suggest taking it and thanking her for the privilege.”
Twilight barked with laughter. “Fuck you.”
Rarity shook her head slowly. “Don’t say that I didn’t try to warn you.”
She sighed and drew away.
So did Fleur, pulling out of her sex with a satisified slurp.
“You taste divine for a traitorous harlot,” Fleur whispered. “But that’s enough pleasure for now.”
She rumbled with laughter, using her enhanced magic to firmly hold Twilight’s hindleg in place.
Her spine tensed as she felt the barrel of the staple gun tickle at her frog. The mere teasing of it was already enough to make her body course with a sensitive and pent-up energy.
“I’d suggest taking a deep breath, dear,” Fleur warned. “Because you’ll need it for when you scream.”
Twilight reluctantly drew one in, just in time for Fleur to pull the trigger. The staple came forth with such violence, slamming deep into Twilight’s frog. She screamed at the top of her lungs with strands of spittle flying forth as she panted for breath.
Her eyes bulged and adrenaline spilled into her veins. Though no amount of second wind had any hope of fighting back against the wards that kept her firmly in place.
The frog was easily one of the most sensitive parts of an equine body, maybe only second to a pony’s sex.
Fleur apparently wasn’t content with just one staple as she pulled the trigger again. Another staple soon joined its companion and a second enraged scream spilled forth.
“You poor dear,” she whispered. “I can only imagine how much this hurts.”
“Oh I can do more than imagine,” Rarity teased. “She must be in utter agony right now.”
She got right in Twilight’s face, smiling like an utter bitch.
“Would a kiss make you feel better, my beloved?” Rarity teased.
Twilight huffed, grunting as another staple was pressed into her flesh. She refused to betray another scream. If anything, she decried herself for such weakness.
“Feel free to use her,” Fleur said. “You’ve earned the privilege, I’d say.”
“Thank you, High Inquisitor,” Rarity said.
She allowed her eyes to go half-lidded. “So how about it, darling? Would you like that kiss?”
Twilight’s cheeks warmed as a flurry of emotions swarmed into her mind. It was no secret that she had feelings for Rarity. But her own Rarity, not this sociopathic knock-off. Still, she had her voice, had her warmth, and it was hard for Twilight to discern the differences when her mind was otherwise occupied.
Her thoughts were muddled, corrupted by pain and agony.
She nodded slowly and Rarity drew closer. Their lips met and soon Rarity started to explore her mouth with her tongue. They danced between their connected lips, sharing in a brief moment of mercy and lust.
Though Fleur made it hard to fall totally into this moment. Her presence was there, hovering behind Twilight with the staple gun.
Rarity placed a hoof upon Twilight’s cheek, drawing away and letting out an approving note.
“Did you love me?” she asked.
Twilight swallowed and nodded slowly. “I do… I did… I…”
She shook her head and said nothing more.
Fleur chuckled. “And she can be all yours, dear.” She came back into view and pressed the barrel of the staple gun into the underside of her muzzle. “Her Majesty is kind and rewards those who serve her with dedication. You could bed this mare every night if you’d bow to Her.”
Twilight gritted her teeth. “Never.”
“Your resistance is adorable, false prophet,” Fleur teased. She went over to the wall of tools and toys, examining them closely. “But in the end, everypony who falls under my care, sees Her Majesty’s mercy eventually.”
She hummed and hawed to herself, examining each of the tools closely.
Finally, she selected a blade, a proper knife crafted from a fine steel. With it in her mana, she approached, twirling it at her side.
“Knives are such magical little tools,” she said. “They can do all sorts of interesting things to a pony. With a bit of force, I can leave scars, with a bit more I can spill blood, and with a whole lot I can sever flesh from tendons. They’re as versatile as they are numerous.”
She grinned and touched the blade to Twilight’s cheek. With surprising ease, she drew it swiftly across and left behind a very shallow nick. Still, it was enough to get her victim to hiss and close her eyes tight. As if not seeing the weapon would somehow save her from it.
Fleur pressed it against her throat, allowing the blunted edge to press into Twilight’s jugular.
“I could end your miserable life right this second,” she warned.
“But you won’t,” Twilight shot back.
Fleur chuckled. “But I won’t. Her Majesty would be most displeased if I ended your life in such a merciful fashion.” She drew the knife away, instead pressing the pointed tip into the underside of Twilight’s snout, just hard enough to break skin. “I have something else in mind.”
She drew the knife away sharply, leaving behind another wonderful mark upon Twilight’s skin. Instead, she turned away and offered Twilight her cunt.
“Pleasure me,” she demanded.
Twilight growled. “Why? Are you going to hurt me if I don’t?”
Fleur smirked. “Oh no, I would never coerce you through pain.”
Suddenly her horn glowed and she gripped Rarity’s head, drawing it back and exposing her pretty little throat. She held the sharpened blade against it, so close that Twilight could see the skin bend, threatening to break.
“But if you prove troublesome I won’t think twice about spilling her pretty little blood.” Fleur grinned like an absolute bastard. “Her Majesty may care about your life, but I can promise you she cares little for our beloved seamstress.”
Rarity gasped, grunting against the magic. She attempted to squirm but Fleur’s spell proved far too burdensome to rebel against. All she managed to do was give herself a shallow little cut, tarnishing her white coat with red.
Twilight closed her eyes.
This wasn’t your Rarity. This is a perversion of her. It’s not the same pony.
“Tick tock,” Fleur said.
Twilight’s eyes snapped back open and she dipped forwards, pressing her lips against Fleur’s hole. She parted her folds without ceremony, driving her tongue in deep and swirling it around with a desperate vigour.
“That’s a good filly,” Fleur mocked. “So eager to please me.”
Twilight tried her best to stem the tide of tears but they returned in full force. Still, she didn’t allow her misery to muddle her tongue work. After all, Rarity’s life was on the line.
She kept her ears open, listening to the few moans that Fleur surrendered. She focused on when her captor’s voice would rise, learning what worked and channeling it into her routine. After all, she was an astute student and would take any information to improve her accursed research.
Soon Fleur nickered and her magic faltered, allowing the knife to slip away from Rarity’s throat.
“I suppose you get to live another day,” she moaned.
She clopped her hindleg against the ground, giving such depraved approval.
A hollow note of amusement dripped forth as Fleur cackled. “Well, dear, I don’t think you realize how fucked you are.”
Twilight ignored her, continuing to lap away. Her tongue may have ached, her jaw might’ve grown sore, but she refused to abate.
“Because you just played your hand,” Fleur teased.
She allowed herself another small rumble of laughter.
Twilight’s ears folded back. She would not dignify this monologue with even a syllable’s response.
“You freedom fighters are all the same,” Fleur moaned. “Always so fucking focused on the sanctity of equine life. It makes you soft.”
She nickered, once more, as Twilight continued with her dutiful routine. Her tongue refused to slow, even with the immediate threat removed. After all, that knife still lingered, so ready to lash out and kill Rarity.
Faster and faster she continued to go, harder and more forceful she became. In that moment, she was little more than a sex toy. An object that was meant for nothing but Fleur’s perverse enjoyment and pleasure.
“These are hard times, false prophet,” Fleur whispered, closing her eyes and steeling her jaw. “And it is during times like these that it’s the job of hard ponies to do what’s right.”
How was this even remotely right? How was sexual assault ever the proper course of action to take. In what world was this okay?
Another ugly sob ebbed forth. Though it seemed like this sob only seemed to feed into the experience as Fleur let out such an excitable moan.
One of her hindlegs lifted off of the ground, twitching slightly in the air. It then clopped roughly upon the floor.
“Don’t worry, dear,” Fleur whispered. “This will be over soon enough. You’re nearly finished with this degrading task, I promise.” She snorted. “Not that you’ll really have anything to look forward to afterwards.”
Twilight tried her best to block out the sound of Fleur’s voice. She channeled everything into her performance, pushing her tongue to its absolute limits. Her muscles ached, along with her jaw, but she fought through it.
Soon Fleur’s voice rose to an excitable pitch, a constant drone of perverted pleasure dripping from her lips.
It wasn’t long before Twilight tasted Fleur’s foul nectar as she climaxed. Her essence tainted Twilight’s tongue, making her gag upon it as it rushed forth. She attempted to swallow it but there was clearly too much. So it smothered her snout and dribbled down.
Fleur drew away and took in a deep breath. “There is something about a desperate mare that always makes things that much sweeter.” She sighed. “Absolutely divine, dear.”
Twilight hiccuped, hating how she could only smell the corrupting scent of Fleur. It was toxic, dark, and sinful.
She glanced at Rarity, seeing how the mare stared at her with disdain. This hurt Twilight more than she anticipated.
“I saved your life,” she rasped.
Rarity shook her head. “You displayed weakness.”
Fleur smirked. “Don’t mind her.” She turned and levitated over a clean cloth, using it to clean Twilight’s complexion. “I will make sure to remember your heroics. They were very… inspirational.”
Thankfully, the cloth managed to clean up most of the mess and did away with the heaviness of Fleur’s smell.
Her torturer moved towards her wall of tools, examining them with purpose.
“Tell me about this Celestia figure,” Fleur said.
Twilight shook her head. “What do you mean, she’s Celestia.”
“And that’s why she interests me,” Fleur explained. “The way you speak of her makes me think that she should be a figure that I recognize but… I have never heard of the mare.”
Twilight swallowed down a lump in her throat. “W-what? She’s… she’s one of the alicorns who founded Equestria.”
Rarity snorted. “Nonsense, everypony knows that the true founder of Equestria is Her Majesty. And Her Majesty alone.”
“So with that being said,” Fleur went on. “Why don’t you tell me about this Princess I’ve never heard of.”
For the next of her devices, she selected a set of four strange looking shackles. They were not connected in any way, meaning they would be very ineffective as a tool for bondage. Though on the side of each shackle was a pair of screws.
Twilight sighed. “Why bug me for a creation myth that you obviously have no reason to respect.”
“To pass the time.” Fleur shrugged. “If you’d like I could just resume my torture unimpeded.”
Twilight’s eyes widened and she nodded her head slowly.
“In my Equestria,” she started, “she defeated her sister in combat and locked her away for a millenia upon the moon.”
Rarity let out an indignant gasp. “She did what?”
“It was done in order to buy time and devise a strategy for purifying her soul,” Twilight explained. “For Princess Luna was corrupted by a spirit of darkness that sought to put the entire world under an infernal reign of suffering.”
“I believe I can see where our Equestrias diverged,” Fleur said, offering a slight smile.
Twilight nodded. “Princess Celestia was my mentor and I was her tool for exorcising the Nightmare from Luna. And after saving the world enough times, she saw fit to grant me well…” She nodded over her shoulder. “These.”
“I see,” Fleur said, examining their wings. “I’ll admit that it’s a rather nice tale. It has heroes, villians, the whole nine yards. Though it’s completely nonsensical.” She snorted. “No pony can save the world without leaving a path of broken bodies in their wake.”
Twilight frowned. “If that’s what you think then I weep for this world.”
Fleur approached and opened the first of the shackles, showing it to Twilight. It seemed ordinary enough, though Twilight noticed that the two screws were attached to a pair of sharp diodes inside. She could only imagine what those were meant for.
“Well maybe it’s time that we started to play with your worldview,” she said.
She clasped the first of these shackles around one of Twilight’s forelegs, near the hoof, but still bound to actual flesh. It was tight and she could feel the pointed tips of the diodes prick at her hide. They threatened to break skin if they were tightened much further.
Fleur then repeated this process three times, affixing each of Twilight’s forelegs with one of these shackles.
“You believe in a world with a Princess Celestia and I live in a world where no such monarch has ever existed,” Fleur said.
Twilight shook her head. “She must’ve been erased from the historical records.”
“Maybe that’s true,” Fleur said, but all she did was shrug. “But if Her Majesty states that she did not exist, then she is not allowed to exist. It is as simple as that.”
“But… but…” Twilight began.
Fleur smiled. “I assume that when you were born, your parents were given some sort of form. We call them birth certificates here.”
Twilight nodded. “They did.”
“Well, say you were smothered by your mother in the crib and this record was burned. You’d effectively not exist. Sure, memories might linger, but in a few years even those would be non-existent,” Fleur explained. “This might be the case with your Celestia. If the documents of her are gone, if the texts of her stories are destroyed, and if she was written out of the very fabric of history then… She. Does. Not. Exist.”
“That’s…” Twilight started.
“Exactly how any reasonably bureaucratic society functions,” Fleur interrupted.
Before Twilight was allowed to rebuttal, Fleur’s magic pulsed. She grabbed each of the screws on the four sets of cuffs and started to turn them. At first, the pressure mounted. But after a few rotations, each of the speared screws broke through Twilight’s flesh.
She gasped, yelping in pain as the metal drove inside of her. Soon, she could feel the grooves in the screws, tearing at her fleshing and furthering the wounds.
The pain was blinding, and soon, a steady trickle of her own blood dampened her fetlocks.
“And it will be a society you will have the privilege of joining,” Fleur said, offering a cruel smile. “I do apologize that you’ve been able to hold onto these problematic worldviews for so long. But with enough time and a firm hoof, you’ll be made to see the error of your ways.”
“You’re insane,” Twilight hissed.
Fleur smirked. “Even if I were, my insanity has not inhibited my ability to do my job.”
Her horn crackled with a static energy, sparks of angry red crawling up her horn.
“It’s time for me to really hurt you, false prophet,” she said.
A bolt of mana erupted from her horn and connected with each of the shackles. They absorbed the power and channeled it into the diodes that pierced her flesh. The electricity went deep into her muscles, making them seize.
A pure white agony became Twilight’s world, erasing all rational thoughts from her mind and replacing it with nothing but a scream. In a moment, sentience was gone, replaced by a pain that seemed to last for an eternity.
It did not stop at her muscles, however, clinging to her bones and channeling through them as if they were made of copper.
Twilight wanted to die, wanted even the promise of death. Just anything that would make this end.
Her voice attempted to bark out and shout her horror. And maybe it did. Though her vision, smell, taste, and hearing were all gone. The only sense that existed was touch and all she felt was the end of the world.
Then, just as swiftly as it came, the magic subsided and returned to Fleur’s horn.
Twilight panted for breath, gritting her teeth and trying to return even a semblance of order into her fragmented mind. She had memories that were jumbled and fragile, littered around on a broken landscape. Piece by piece she started to weave them together, finding the strongest ones and holding onto them.
Though there was a lingering presence there. A foreboding redness that hovered, ready to clear away the scraps she could not reach.
“That was but a taste of my true power,” Fleur said. “Her Majesty’s trinkets are especially potent tools in my hooves. Though I think my husband uses them far more elegantly.” She glanced at Rarity. “Would you mind kindling a fire and preparing the rods?”
“Yes, High Inquisitor,” Rarity murmured.
She bowed and scurred off towards the fireplace off to the side.
Fleur sighed and looked at Twilight. “Were you a pegasus or a unicorn before you ascended?”
“I was…” Twilight swallowed down the stiffness in her throat. “A unicorn.”
Fleur nodded but said nothing more as she cast forth another bolt of aggressive red lightning.
Like before it seeped into every fibre of Twilight’s being. And like before it so utterly dominated her.
Those fragile memories, she was attempting to piece together, were broken and the happy and peaceful thoughts of her youth scattered about. Some of them, she managed to salvage but more and more were torn asunder by the pain.
Her body seized and she knew that she voided her bladder. Though thoughts of shame were about as distant as happiness and hope.
The blinding agony seemed to last for hours, days, eons… but when the lightning subsided, it would appear that only enough time had passed for Fleur to return to the wall of tools.
“I’m assuming that if you were to pick a single tribe to return to, it’d be the unicorns?” Fleur asked.
“I’m an alicorn,” Twilight whispered, breathing through the lingering pain.
Fleur glanced at her. “You’re an affront to Her Majesty.” She selected a hacksaw from her collection. “So I’ll ask you again, since I do possess some kindness, would you prefer to be a unicorn or a pegasus?”
“You can’t be…” Twilight began.
Fleur advanced. “I think I have proven that everything I promise is the truth, dear.” She shook her head. “I’m allowing you to keep one and one alone. So, pick wisely.”
Her horn crackled and she sent a single bolt into Twilight, causing her to stiffen.
Twilight sobbed, watching the way the hacksaw hovered at Fleur’s side. There was no hope that she could possibly stem the tide of horror spewing forth. There were no blissful or happy memories left that could come forward and shelter her from this. She was laid bare, with nothing protecting her, nothing to stop the abuse that was about to unfold.
“Horn, let me keep my horn,” Twilight whispered.
Fleur nodded. “A good choice. Her Majesty is always looking for skilled mages.”
She touched the underside of Twilight’s snout with the tip of the saw, lifting her head so she could look her in the eye. There seemed to be legitimate concern in Fleur’s gaze.
“Tell me, Twilight, do you still believe in Celestia?” she asked.
Twilight shook her head. “N-no.”
It was a lie but lying was her only hope of salvation.
Fleur smirked. “Your words say one thing but your expression tells me another. Do you think I made it this far without being able to sense when a pony is lying to me?”
Another bolt of magic course through Twilight’s body, once more searing the entirety of her existence. It was the very definition of agony. And even though words eluded her, she had no doubt that this sensation could fill pages in a dictionary with graphic details.
Thankfully it came to an end, like all those before.
“Please help me, Celestia,” Twilight whimpered.
Fleur frowned. “Oh, Twilight. You and I both know that isn’t going to happen.” She shook her head. “She has abandoned you, dear. She has betrayed you.”
Twilight blinked. “She’d never do that.”
“Then why are you enduring this,” Fleur said. “If your Celestia is as powerful as Her Majesty, she should’ve surely struck me down by now and saved your miserable husk. What type of merciful princess would allow you to endure this?”
Twilight worked her jaw but said nothing, looking towards the ground.
Why hadn’t she come to save her?
The memories were distant and their roots jumbled. Why was she even here in the first place, where even was here? Thoughts were so hard to piece together at this point. So few of them remained.
“Are they hot?” Fleur asked.
Twilight blinked and saw that her captor was addressing Rarity.
“Yes, High Inquisitor,” Rarity said.
Fleur nodded and looked at Twilight. “You see, Twilight. In order to fix you, I need you to acknowledge that your false beliefs are just that, false. I need you to realize that Celestia never existed and that there is only one Alicorn Goddess.”
“O-okay,” Twilight whispered.
She tried to put herself in that mindset. But there was Celestia, an ever present reality to her. There were few coherent memories left but all of them seemed to have her in them. At this point, she was more like a jester, mocking Twilight.
“You will be fixed, Twilight,” Fleur continued. “But you need to erase Celestia, like she has been erased from reality.” She smirked. “The destruction of a name, isn’t it a beautiful concept?”
Twilight nodded. “I want to believe.”
“I can sense that,” Fleur said. “But wanting to believe and actually believing are two very different things.”
She sighed and tenderly stroked her cheek. This time Twilight didn’t flinch away.
“You’ll get there eventually,” Fleur said.
She brought the saw over, placing it upon the flesh that connected Twilight’s left wing to her body. At that moment, these wings felt so wrong.
It was naughty to have them, perverted, toxic.
Fleur drew forth a piece of wood, hovering it before Twilight’s mouth.
A mercy, if a small one.
Twilight bit down upon it, digging her teeth deep into the material.
Fleur drew in a breath and got to work. Back and forth, back and forth the saw would go, cutting its way through flesh and then muscle. Much like the spell, the pain was agonizing. Though unlike it, it wasn’t universal. This was localized, bearable.
Twilight still retained her mind, though any attempts at salvaging her form of reality were but a bygone dream. Too few thoughts remained, too few memories.
Spittle flew from her teeth as muscle gave way to bone. By now the saw had ground down, slowing as it tore through cartilage and calcium. It wouldn’t be long before she was freed from one of these burdensome appendages.
Her vision grew hazy and so did her mind. For a brief moment, she tried to reflect on the past and found that her previous tenants were gone.
What was friendship? What was harmony? She did not know, nor had she ever known.
“She’s not real,” she barked through hoarse lips, spitting out the piece of wood. “She’s not real!”
Fleur nodded. “Now you’re getting it.”
Though as the wing fell away and the pain subsided slightly, Celestia once more returned. Though her presence was not reassuring. It was like a phantom or a boogeymare, coming to haunt a poor filly.
“No,” Twilight whispered.
Fleur looked at her and Twilight could see the recognition that flashed through her eyes. It was pitiful and sad, letting Twilight know that they were not done.
“You were so close,” Fleur said. She shook her head quite solemnly.
She leaned forwards and gave Twilight a tender kiss on her forehead. It was the only source of warmth she had in a body that felt so cold and clammy.
Fleur floated the dismembered wing away, placing it upon a nearby table.
“Your feathers will make Her Majesty extremely happy,” she said.
Then she brought forth some kind of metal bar. The tip of it glowed bright white.
Twilight was confused until Fleur brought it over to the gaping wound that had previously been her wing. She touched it to this hole and soon flesh sizzled and fur burned. The smell was putrid, the pain harsh. But it was necessary to stop her from bleeding out.
Fleur handed the metal rod back to Rarity who returned it to the flames, allowing it to heat up once again.
She then got to work on the second wing. The process was much the same, bearing just as much agony and fury as before. Still she braced herself and endured, reflecting inwards as Fleur did her ghastly deeds.
This time however there truly was an absence of anything. There was no horror, hope, or happiness. Twilight’s entire existence began within this chamber and everything that existed before seemed to be muddled into some miasma that only hurt her as she tried to reflect upon it.
It was strange. Every memory seemed guarded by a shroud of red electricity that would tinge her synapses if she thought too hard.
Before Twilight even realized it, there was a wet thud beside her. She glanced at it and saw that the second wings had been removed.
“Oh,” she whispered.
Fleur snorted. “It gets easier, doesn’t it.” She looked at Twilight, narrowing her gaze. “You see it now, don’t you.”
Twilight opened her mouth to speak but no words formed. Instead, she merely nodded.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
The white hot rod was brought forth again, cleansing the second of her wounds. And after it, came a bundle of white medical cloth. Fleur started to roll it around her midsection. Around and around it went, until there were no signs of her previous wounds.
“What is Celestia?” Fleur asked.
Twilight blinked. “Who?”
Fleur smirked, sensing no lie. “Who do you serve?”
“Her Majesty,” Twilight whispered.
Fleur positively beamed at this, glancing at Rarity. “Well I’d say that I’m a far more effective inquisitor than my husband, wouldn’t you agree?’
“It was mesmerizing watching you work,” Rarity said.
Fleur nodded and came back to Twilight, placing a hoof upon her cheek. She sighed fondly to herself.
“Oh I just wish that I could keep you around, dear.” She shook her head. “Sadly, a mare with as much potential as you is destined to be the direct property of Her Majesty. Hopefully, we’ll be working together in the near future.”
Twilight nodded slowly, too dazed to really add much.
Her entire body ached. Every muscle protested against the idea of moving. Yet, she knew that she was very much alive. And living was a gift.
“What does Her Majesty look like?” Twilight asked.
Fleur beamed. “She’s only the most beautiful mare in all the kingdoms, the very definition of radiance and godhood.”
“She sounds nice,” Twilight admitted.
Fleur nodded and looked to Twilight’s hooves, grimacing as she noticed that the cuffs were still in place. So, she remedied this, pulling them off and pressing against the bloody wounds with a few pieces of sterile cloth.
“I do think we should test your commitment, though,” Fleur said, glancing at Rarity briefly before focusing on Twilight. “Prove that you really are a loyal little trinket who’s prepared to serve Her Majesty with dedication.”
“Anything for Her,” Twilight whispered.
She bowed her head but had no idea why. All she knew was that the act felt proper, so she obediently did so.
When she looked back up, Fleur was smiling. “Gods, it’ll take awhile to piece your mind back together. I may have gone a smidge overboard with my application of magic.” She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Regardless, I ‘m assuming that you at least retain some sort of control over your magic.”
Her horn glowed and she drew the mythril ring off of Twilight’s horn.
Power rushed back to her. It felt proper to become one with the ethereal plain once again. Though the magic around her felt dirty and cold. Nothing like the mana she had once known, wherever that may have been.
“Can you stand?” Fleur asked.
Twilight grunted and fought through the stiffness and pain within her body. She lumbered onto her hooves, her legs wobbling under her. Yet, she could still stand, even if her body was rebelling against the idea.
“Fuck,” she whispered.
Fleur came up beside her, allowing Twilight to lean against her much sturdier body. She felt so powerful, so warm. Magic just spilled off of her, spreading outwards as if she were some sort of magical battery.
“Rarity,” she instructed. “Would you please stand before us?”
Rarity nodded and did so. She looked confused at the request but otherwise complied.
“Rarity is your friend, correct?” Fleur asked.
Twilight winced, trying to reach into her memories. They were fuzzy and foreign but the name sounded familiar and what memories remained seemed to think rather fondly of her.
“I think so,” Twilight whispered.
Fleur’s horn glowed and enveloped Twilight’s mind. There was no pain, however, just clarity. Some memories were given to her… or maybe returned.
“Rarity,” she said, blinking. “I think I love her?”
Rarity’s cheeks warmed slightly at the confession. “Oh?”
Twilight nodded. “Yeah.”
As she glanced at Fleur, she noticed that her mentor was smiling. The nature of that smile made Twilight shiver, however. It was cruel and dark.
“Would you do anything for Her Majesty, Twilight?” she asked.
Twilight thought about it for a moment but nodded. “I would.”
“You know that Her Majesty would not be fond of you having worldly distractions.” Fleur snorted. “At least until you gain enough trust.”
“She wouldn’t?” Twilight asked.
Fleur nodded slowly. Her horn glowed and she reached for a knife, bringing it over and presenting it to Twilight.
It hung there, just within reach.
“Is your magic accessible?” she asked.
Twilight frowned but slowly wrapped her aura around the handle, just in time for Fleur’s to fade. The knife hung there, deadly sharp, now within her grasp.
Rarity looked uneasily at it. “High Inquisitor Fleur?”
Fleur bowed her head. “You’ve served me loyally, Rarity. And I will always remember that.”
She then glanced at Twilight.
“Would you please slit her throat?” she asked. “It’s what Her Majesty would want.”
Twilight looked at Rarity, feeling the knife falter before her. Though soon her grip around the blade tightened and she held it steady.
She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “Well, if it’s what Her Majesty would want…”
Author's Note
Hit me up in my DMs if you want a comm ;P
