I didn't know what I expected, when I decided to do it.
It wasn't this.
Derision.
Snickering.
Laughter.
"Boyfriend? You?" More laughter, from the supposed element of generosity.
Despite everything that happened, that one hurt the most. I stayed silent, waiting for more. A flicker of an idea passed across her face.
"Nevertheless" she smiled. "You may yet be of use to me. You've always been quite the bitch, at the beck and call of our fair bookworm. So eager to please. So malleable. So eager for direction, for purpose.
Was that why you came to me, so soon after getting Celestia and Twilight's permission to move out on your own? After lobbying so hard for your emancipation, the reality scared you, didn't it?"
My heart raced, my blood pumped - though I'd prefer to a different destination. I tried desperately to ignore the stiffening feeling in my pouch, threatening to spill out for the whole world (or the only part of the world that mattered, anyway), to see. It wasn't exactly news to me that being degraded excited me, but why did it have to happen now! Even still, some part of me wanted my cock to spill out, to be irredeemably and permanently corrupted in the the eyes of the most important person in the world to me.
She laughed again, wiping the tears from her face.
"So you came to me," another chortle, "hoping to find another place fit for a pathetic excuse of a man!"
It was getting closer. I'd like to say that I thought of Granny Smith, of Twilight or Crackle or anything to stop it. I'd like to say that I'd made at least a token effort to prove her wrong. The truth is, I couldn't focus on a thing other than the enraged divinity before me. Or perhaps I didn't want to; the curve of her haunches, swaying gracefully and immaculately even in the middle of her tirade, brought the moment ever nearer.
"I'm only saying what you already know - that you will never, ever, be my boyfriend. Or any other woman's, for that matter."
There it was. My consummation; my immolation; My cock, at half mast, on full display.
I turned the most delightful shade of red.
"Most becoming."
A forehoof lashed out, taking my knees out from under me. I was on my knees now, my legs splayed open.
"Not that, of course."
Five small spheres glowed the faintest shade of blue.
"Let's see what we can do about that."
The spheres rocketed toward my crotch, and I knew only pain. I was dimly aware, through the pit settling in my stomach urging me to vomit, that I had never been so turned on in my life. My physiology did little to contradict that assessment.
"Twilight never did ask me what I'd need with ball bearings. Did our egghead ever do this to you? The geekier are often the kinkier ones, and Celestia knows you never had the balls to say, 'no,' to anything Twilight wanted. Or anyone, for that matter."
The balls rocketed upward to the ceiling. She held it there, and I savored the moment of anticipation. A moment of searing pain, followed immediately by an impossibly high pitched yelp, and the sound of the balls clattering lightly to the floor.
"I think not. You'd be faring better under the assault, if she had. Then again, it wouldn't surprise me if you were as big a failure at masochism as you were at everything else."
She levitated five more. My breath caught in my throat
"I grow tired of this. We need you flaccid for what comes next."
Twice the number, four times the speed. I'd have a stomach ache tomorrow, but I somehow managed to keep my lunch down. This wasn't fun any more. My cock stood half erect, and I curled over to my side, my legs crossed, trying to protect myself. She shoved aside my weak resistance and splayed my legs.
"No way, bitch. If there's a part of your body I want to hurt, you have no right to stop me. Nor, I think, will you be able to."
She reared her front legs, and stomped into my bruised ballsack with a sickening crunch. Barely conscious, my cock and balls retreated back into my pouch.
"Good. Now we can begin."
She rummaged through her pack a bit, and emerged with a curious device. It was a hollow tube, pointing downward, with a small slit at its base. Two interlocking rings sat at its base, with a lock fastened to them.
"This -" she kicked my crotch once more for emphasis "- belongs to me."
She levitated the device to my crotch, and opened my pouch. The rings neatled locked around my ballsack, with my cock encased in the narrow tube. It had only the slightest bit of room to grow before it would be cut off. She refastened the lock with a flourish.
"That's to make sure you don't go misusing my property. You're not to touch yourself, or fuck anyone else, without my permission. I might let you out every once in awhile, if I feel like it, but I wouldn't go expecting my permission to fuck anyone. Not that anyone would let you."
"So far as the rest of the town is concerned, I hired you as a live-in assistant, and that's what you'll be, for the most part. My little gopher, as you were for Twilight. Privately, of course, you're mine. You'll never date again, though of course I'll still be searching for my dream stallion. You'll be my little punching bag, my cock to tease. You can find some fabric to sleep on down here, I'm sure." She walked up the stairs without waiting for a response, and I heard the faint click of a lock a moment after she closed her basement door.
I sighed and passed out, comatose, before reaching the fabric, never more content in my life.
