Naked Slaves of the Zebra

Empty eyes stared back at her from the heads of beasts mounted on the walls. A variety of creatures filled the hut, taxidermy trophies of the hunter who had slain them. Fleur de Lis curled her lip at the sights and shuddered, arms drawn close around her shapeliness as the cool air tickled bare skin.

Swathed in shadow, the glints of light that caught them almost make them appear alive. Her heart raced while she shook away such nonsensical thoughts and reminded herself where she was.

Not that her master would allow her to forget. Firm hands tightened on her upper arms. She shuddered and stared down at herself, reminded of how vulnerable she truly was, her shapely nakedness fully on display. Standing taller than most stallions, the unicorn's skin and coat were alabaster, each voluptuous curve of the former model sculpted to absolute perfection.

Many had fought to win her heart. Fancy Pants had finally risen to the top. Yet to most she appeared to be a mere trophy wife.

“You seem troubled,” came the husky voice behind her. His musculature pressed against her slender back and ample buttocks. Firm fingers started to dance down her breastbone, until his palms smoothed over the supple handfuls of her breasts, the pastel pink wide nipples brushed over and teased until they were fully erect. She closed her eyes and involuntarily cooed low.

“I...dislike this,” she murmured. “To capture some poor, innocent girl...”

His hot breath tickled her inner ear. Despite her runway model figure the zebra stood taller still. He kneaded her breasts, traced her areola, pinched and twisted her nipples between a forefinger and thumb. Heat radiated across her entirety but particularly centered in her loins. One of his palms continued a plush tit while the other traced down her belly, over her navel, to her womanly mound where it came to rest. A finger rested over the slit of her labia, whose heated lips moistened and swelled.

“Does she remind you of who you once were? You don't seem to have much in common,” he mused. His hands spun her around but didn't release her as she was pointed to his cauldron at the center. He released her tit which bounced and wobbled, reached into a pouch suspended on his loin cloth, and scooped up herbs he tossed into the cauldron's soup.

A hiss sounded, there was a brilliant flash of light, and ghostly vapors rose as the concoction bubbled over. From the colorful miasma a window into the outside world appeared, plains dotted by the occasional tree or rock under a harsh sun.

“Even so. She's merely a traveler, is she not? Especially since you neutered her magic.”

He chuckled into her ear and continued to fondle her. “It's how I earned my name, Natural Selection. The most skilled hunter of my generation. But when I tired of slaying beasts, I decided to tame mares instead. Like you, my dear.” He squeezed a tit and a buttock to remind her she was his possession. That every last, supple inch of her fully belonged to him alone.

She whimpered under his caresses, still surprised at how tender he could be. His touch reminded her of Fancy, much to her shame, as her face burned bright red. She loved her husband dearly, but after she had been taken from him so long ago.... She struggled to hold onto his image, their shared memories, even as her body betrayed her despite her resistance.

A vision of his latest prize came into focus amidst the plains. She was a unicorn mare with platinum locks tinged in violet, to match her eyes and skin. The witch was shorter than her but quite shapely, as she cowered behind the shade of a boulder.

Fleur murmured between whimpers, “Have you...ah...managed to uncover her name?”

“Beatrix Belladonna. She likes to talk to herself. Or maybe she's merely delirious.” A cruel smile spread across his dark snout. A wild, lion-like mane trailed about his chiseled visage. “You need not be concerned. I do not wish to harm her.”

“But she will struggle. Just like I did. And many of the mares you captured have.” She had not met any of them, he had told her about other huts such as this one he traveled between, where he kept other trophies like her.

“And that will make my victory over her all the sweeter.” He licked his chops in anticipation. Hungry kisses trailed over her neck. A bulge barely contained by the tiny loin cloth pressed into the slope between her ample ass. Yet while he molded her in his hands, made her moan and squirm, his golden eyes were already focused on the next prize to be won.

Would she be replaced so easily? Had she started to bore him? And if so, why did that bother her so much...?

A breath caught in her throat once he undid the loop to his loin cloth and let it fall at his feet. His swollen member rested between her supple cheeks, rubbed between them, over the pastel pink of her puckered asshole. She hissed between her teeth and her heart-shaped clitoris swelled from her hood, shiny and moist as her pussy started to wink and leak down her inner thighs.

“Admit you want me. That you cannot live without me.” He nipped one of her ears as they flicked.

“Don't make me say it,” she begged and wiggled in his hold as her master continued to roughly molest her. She melted into his touch, putty in his hands as he traced over her hourglass figure and caused a louder, more shameless moan to arise.

A forefinger traced over her snatch until it was slathered in her cunt nectar. This he raised to her nostrils. “Sniff your arousal,” he commanded and she inhaled deep. “Like ambrosia, is it not?Imagine how it tastes.” He forced the digit past her lips, into her mouth, and she savored her own delectable sweet and tangy flavor, unable to deny the truth in his words.

“You like to tease me,” she wailed as his hand turned one of her pendulous breasts in a circle and tugged on a painfully stiff nipple. His other palm kneaded a buttock, made the flesh squish between his fingers, landed audible smacks on her pert white ass. His black shaft pressed against her twat, rubbed over it as it wept its lewd need over his vein-lined, throbbing meat.

“Of course. I know your husband couldn't please you like this. Civilization made him soft.” He bit her neck.

She cried out as her maw fell wide open and almost climaxed on the spot. Unable to help but breathe in his masculine musk, she winked violently over his cock, her moist pink pussy desperate to be filled. To be bred senseless to completion.

He teased at her entrance. Pulsed as his flared tip leaked its own discharge, ready to fill her sticky cunt. “Say it.”

“I...I want it,” she admitted and, after another hearty laugh, he pressed upon her feminine flower. A wet squelch resounded as her lips parted to admit him and his head invaded her slimy canal. She squeaked as he slid in, spread her wide open into the shape of his dick, deeper as he rested a hand under her thigh and lifted a leg to plunder her succulent cunt.

“Oh god,” she gasped as he sank in and pressed on her cervix. The final ring of flesh that barricaded her womb drooled over his length. She reflexively squeezed down as her pussy winked and milked him, driven by base instinct to receive his seed.

Her heated insides conformed to him, reshaped themselves to his impressive size. One that put even her husband to shame. She had always heard zebras were larger but assumed that was a mere rumor. Was it a byproduct of the potions he consumed...?

Her reverie was broken when he bent her over the cauldron, her hands settled to rest on the warm rim. His hands spread her ass wide open, exposed her pink rectum, and he spat down onto it with perfect aim. The saliva spread along the clenched ring, which he shoved a thumb into, his fingers greedily sunk into the fleshy cheek of a buttock as he fondled her flesh.

Her tits swung and bounced as he fucked her, one grasp by his other hand and squeezed. Her back arc as he bent forward over her, took her mane in his teeth, and yanked hard. She cast back her head and wailed as the slap of skin filled their ears.

Given no choice but to watch the scene unfold in the eerie greenish fog that danced in wisps before her, where the scene zoomed in on Beatrix as she scrambled for anything that could give her an advantage. Meanwhile, he hammered at her cervix.

“Oh...ah...” A sliver of drool escaped the side of her lips. She shrieked once his tip finally punctured her last defense, slid into her slippery womb, and slammed into its walls as he groaned, grunted, and his cock started to throb as his flare expanded and locked itself in place. Instinctively she milked him almost painfully hard, moaned like a whore, and squirted over his groin, ready to receive his seed. Balls deep from his last brutish thrust, they pulsed with a need for blessed release as he howled.

An electric tingle of pleasure spiked throughout her all the way to her ovaries. Blast-after-blast of his virile spunk slapped her insides, hosed every last inch of them down, as she continued to wail and drench his muscular thighs and crotch. Soon her eggs were drowning in an ocean of his swirling semen, her pregnancy assured if not for the contraceptive drinks he fed her.

Her belly swelled out like she was heavily impregnated by his discharge. She huffed and bit her lower lip, the corners of her eyes dotted in small tears. He landed a smack on her ass to remind her he owned him. She yelped as the barehanded smack left an angry red hand print on her buttock. Her pussy milked out the last droplets of his cum as they came down from their climax.

When he finally withdrew there was a pop from her gaped, creamy cunt as it leaked a mixture of their releases. His hand tightened around her waist and spun her to face him. “You want to prove yourself worthy to be my alpha, don't you?”

She lowered her head and meekly nodded, the vain pride she once carried herself with shattered by her time with him.

His hand cupped beneath her chin and lifted her eyes to meet him. “Then why not hunt her in my place? This is your chance to show me how capable you are. You used to be Fancy's secret bodyguard, and I'm sure some of that training must remain.”

“Me...hunt her?” She considered for a moment. It was true she would show her more mercy than him, at least. Her gaze focused on his and she sucked in a deep breath. “I...accept. Simply tell me what I must do.” Her fists balled up at her sides.

Few had known the truth. That her role was to defend her noble Fancy Pants from harm. She had been a spy in service of the princesses, forced to maintain her cover as little more than a pretty face. A sometimes tiresome role as stallions saw her little more than a prize to be won and used, while mares bristled with jealousy and resentment at her natural beauty.

That seemed like a lifetime ago when she met the hard stare of Natural Selection. Rough features lined his debonair face, his mouth drawn into a harsh line. His hand curled around her chin and cheek. “First, you must be made ready...”

*****

All sorts of mysterious worlds had been laid bare whenever Beatrix Belladonna decided to travel between dimensions. Gifted or perhaps cursed by her cutie mark, a swirling cosmos on her flanks, she had opened a rift between worlds and ended up in these plains. But before she had been able to explore much, a herd of wild animals had stampeded in her direction. The thunderous hooves had shook the beaten earth until it quaked and kicked up dense clouds of dusts as her blood ran cold.

Her hands and horn had lit up as she took a combative stance. Garbed in a pointy wide-brimmed hat, a cape clasped by a stylized eye bauble called the Prima Materia, high-cut leotard, fingerless gloves that came to her upper arms, and heeled thigh-high boots, each one decorated by constellations that resembled the coat of an Ursa Minor. She could have been an almost perfect copy of her mother Trixie Lulamoon, were it not for her different color scheme. A glow flared around her as she cast.

The illusions she wove distracted and misdirected the herds who scattered. The elements hissed from her fingertips and horn to strike the ground. She tried not to harm any of them directly, despite the way her heart hammered and she perspired.

“Go away,” she cried as her platinum locks and cape whirled behind her. “I don't want to hurt any of you!”

She noted many of these monstrosities were unnatural, creatures born of myth. Tragic animals spliced by magic into horrific hybrids, blinded by rage, but unfortunately she lacked the top level skill needed to undo their accursed fates.

At best she could try and soothe them with a balm from the hidden inner folds of her cloak. Or put them out of their misery.

“No,” she muttered. “I'd rather not. They're like me, aren't they? None of them asked for this.” She had been twisted indirectly by the Cult of the Nemesis, a product of the Necronomicon, would-be dark messiah and bearer of the Demiurge. In pursuit of her daughter Abadonna, she had decided to explore the realms to further her connection to her portals in hopes she would enhance her skills. Instead she was almost immediately tossed into another life-or-death battle, forced to react.

“Damn it,” she cried as teeth clamped around her cape's hem and nearly pulled her down. “Let go!” The garment shredded as it was torn away. Her hat whirled away in a burst of wind. But she had no choice but to focus on nearest assailants.

Her bosom heaved. Thunder boomed and lightning crackled around her. Screeches sounded as the mass broke apart.

“Who else?” Sparks and embers danced around her as she bristled with raw power. She boldly stared down the beasts as they retreated, unaware that from the scant cover of trees and boulders on the sunny plains she was watched.

An eye focused on her thong-clad ass. Her buttocks shimmered under the sun's glint. The blowgun took aim and a dart fired from it. “Yikes,” she yelped as the dart embedded itself in her meaty cheek. She plucked it and stared. “What the-”

She swayed on her feet and almost tripped as the drugs instantly entered her bloodstream. Her eyes glazed over and, in the distance, she saw a naked male zebra leap from behind a stone and tackle a monster to the earth. Within seconds it was choked out as veins rippled over his musculature. The animals dashed away from him as he battered his way through.

“Who...” She mumbled sleepily, eyes half-lidded as she toppled to the dirt with a thud.

The zebra cast a wide shadow over her once he stalked up. “You're mine.” He crouched down on his haunches and started to slide off one of her gloves. She tried to raise limp hands, tried to spark her horn, but could not summon even a minor spell.

“You...suppressed...magic...” She whispered deliriously as he cast off her second glove and started on her boots.

“Shush. It will all be over soon,” he assured her as he rolled down her leotard. Her heavy breasts were freed with a bounce, her supple mounds topped in wide nipples. He slid down her costume, her tight slit exposed to the open air.

“Stop...don't...” She bit her lip until it bled in attempt to stay conscious. A tussled mane framed her ashen features. He smoothed his palms over her tits, down the sides of her belly, traced her foal-bearing thighs and licked his chops in anticipation. Her limbs grew heavier by the moment, and her muscles further slackened, until blackness finally claimed her.

*****

Placed atop a bed, Fleur stared up at the ceiling and remained perfectly still. Meticulously her paramour dipped his brush into a bottle of ink and applied black stripes across her denuded flesh. She was to embrace the heritage of his kind, to completely abandon her old life. Through this process, she would become a warrior again, and draw first blood when she went on the hunt.

The black lines contrasted her supple porcelain skin. The tip of her snout was also darkened. “This war paint is enchanted,” explained Natural Selection. “It will alter your instincts, allow you to think and feel as we do, my sweet.”

She closed her eyes and settled in as he traced every velvet curve. Patiently waited for the ink to dry.

Sometime later he commanded, “Up.” She rose to her feet and stood before a full body mirror he guided her to. Taking a moment to admire her work, she posed, barely able to recognize the zebra mare who stared back.

Not only had she been striped, but her nipples and clitoris had been pierced, adorned by gold jewelry that glimmered. Gradually she spun and looked over her shoulder at her plush backside, smoothness over muscle from a lifetime of hard work.

“Kneel,” he ordered and she lowered herself to her knees. He presented his already half-erect black cock to her, let it fall and slap her on the face, where it rested over her snout and smeared some of its release. Using a cup made from a skull, he dipped into the cauldron, drew up a steamy brew, and drank down the bitter concoction with a gulp.

She took the head of his shaft into her maw, planted a series of kisses over it. Then she started to nibble, suck, and pull on his meat, which stiffened further as she finally closed her lips around it and started to take it into her warm, wet throat.

“I'll allow you to borrow some of my strength,” he stated and rested a hand on her scalp as he pushed her face into his crotch, forced her to fully sheathe his monstrous cock in her throat pussy. His muscular hips started to buck into her face, slow at first, but picked up pace while he spoke. “The brew invigorated my seed. Swallow it, and you'll be like a feral beast in battle.”

She moaned, sucked, and bobbed her head, rolled her tongue around his shaft, felt the veins pulse in rhythm with his heart beat. Her eyes glazed over. She devoured his salty taste, sucked in his masculine musk, until it became her entire world.

Repeatedly he savaged her throat, violently hammered it with angry thrusts, both hands now tightened around her skull as he clawed into her silky mane and fucked her mouth. Lewd slaps sounded each time his crotch met her muzzle. Grunts rose from the zebra, who flared his nostrils, groaning and clenching his chiseled buttocks as he stared ahead.

Reflected in the mirror was Fleur's voluptuous backside, her shapely legs spread wide in submission as her pussy hungrily leaked down her inner thighs. From this position her pastel pink asshole and cunt were visible in the glass, as they clenched with need to be filled. Her hands rested on his firm buttocks, unable to do little more than take his massive dick.

Finally he wheezed and his flared expanded, locked into her gullet. She gagged and shuddered, blinked back tears and came with him, pushed over the edge by the taste and smell of him, the feeling of dominance he so easily held over her.

He fired his virile semen directly into her stomach. It sprayed the interiors of her throat, drizzled down and settled, made her stomach bloat out a little once more as her messy squirts pooled from wild sprays of her winking snatch below her.

Unable to swallow it all down as her cheeks ballooned out, spunk exploded out her nostrils, bubbled, and popped. The sticky ooze swung from her nose holes and slid down her nuzzle. Her face burned all over, a similar crimson blush visible on her tits and buttocks, her entire body an erogenous zone as euphoria rippled throughout every last inch of her femininity.

She gasped once he finally withdrew and squeezed out the last drops on her messed up, slathered face. Disheveled hair hung around her as she relished his seed, swished it in her mouth as it clung to her gums, stuck between her teeth. She proudly opened her maw to show her work, gargled on it until her eyes rolled into her head, her unfilled twat still winking hard.

“Drink up every last bit,” he ordered as she swallowed down his seed. She wiped his release off her face, licked it off her fingers, prostrated herself as she lapped up the cum that mixed into the puddle of her feminine release below her. She closed her eyes and greedily dragged her tongue across the floor, lewdly slurped their mixed essences up with another mewl.

“Good girl.” He patted her head when she finished her last sip and raised her head to meet his stare. “You deserve a reward.”

He mashed his snout to hers, invaded her mouth. One hand clasped a gold hoop that pierced one of her pastel pink nipples, tugged on it far as he could to distend a luscious melon, while his other hand sunk a couple fingers into her snatch with a wet squelch and hooked up his digits to press on her spongy g-spot. She shrieked and burst her womanly dam on his grip.

His seed settled into her tummy. It burned with raw, primal strength. A sign the ritual was complete.

She rose and stretched her limber voluptuousness, smoothed out her velvet mane. As the mixture of drugs and his seed took effect, memories that were not her own assailed her senses, of an ancient zebra tribe who ran the plains in conquest.

Her palms traced over her breasts, along her stomach, over her thighs. The corner of her eye caught a spear placed among the tribal masks and jewelry carved of animal bone, the weapon adorned by brilliant phoenix feathers.

“A lovely weapon for a lovely mare,” he murmured as his hands rested on her shoulders. To punctuate it he nipped her ear.

She nodded once and hefted it into her slender arms. He dressed her in only a slim belt, little more than a firm string, lined with a variety of herbs and vials to aid her on the hunt. If anything, the sliver of cover only appeared to accentuate her nakedness even more, her womanly succulence on brazen display. Raging with female hormones she swore, “I won't fail you.”

*****

When she had finally reawakened Beatrix had no idea how long had passed. She was still on the plains in the middle of the day, alone and safely deposited behind a stone for shelter. First thing she tried was to draw a circle in the air to cut a nexus between realities, but like she expected her power had been repressed. Same with her attempt to cast a spell that would summon her clothes. She rested on her knees and shook the cobwebs from her head, then spotted a rolled up scroll nearby.

The witch unfurled it and read aloud. “Beatrix Belladonna, welcome to my home. I am called Natural Selection, premiere hunter of my tribe, and you are my latest prey. Items that will help you survive are hidden in the plains. Can you undercover them in time and survive? Make use of your time, because within the hour your first test will be headed your way.”

The moment she finished her read the enchanted scroll smoked. She tossed it aside as it burst into flame. An acrid stench filled her nostrils. “Charmed. Well, can't stick around here forever.” She hobbled to her feet, naked and unarmed.

Aware of how vulnerable she was Beatrix tried to think up a plan. Unfortunately, he held all the cards. She had no clues about her environment other than the little she had encountered so far. Would she starve or dehydrate before he claimed her...?

She stamped a foot and curled her snout, unable to deny the frustration that built up in her breast.

“What a sick hobby. Just another trophy for him to win, I'm sure! Well, I'll make him regret it!” She planted hands on her wide hips and stood bold with her legs parted, unashamed of her nakedness, unlike most of the mares the zebra had hunted.

Her eyes swept over the plains. She darted from one makeshift shelter to the next. Luckily it appeared the monsters were cleared out of the immediate area. For the moment her greatest threat was the sun which bore down on her bare skin.

Her breasts jiggled and knocked together each time she broke into a mad run. She winced and slid to the next rock, lost herself in its cool shade. Taking a quick look around her, she blushed, squatted down, and voided her bladder, uncertain she would have the chance later. Sure, she had spent much of her youth on the road with her mother, but she was hardly a survivalist!

The truth was maybe she was a little too dependent on her magic and tools to get by. Not to mention a little luck!

“Sister would be embarrassed for me. Probably my mentor, too. Don't want to let them down.” She sighed and prodded her butt with a wince, the portion of her cheek where the dart penetrated still sore. “At least I'm well-padded back there...”

Thankfully it seemed the lingering effects of the drugs had abandoned her, too. She searched her immediate perimeter for anything that might be used as ingredients in alchemy, but frowned when she realized there was little of use at hand.

“Sure could use an edge,” she mumbled as she impotently sparked her horn some more. Whatever she was hit with, it appeared to have disrupted her aura. Would it be permanent? She trembled at the idea of having a part of her permanently stolen. She clawed at her upper arms, shook away the moistness in her eyes, and refused to feel helpless.

Gradually over the next hour she made her way further in and kept an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. Perhaps there would be a marker or at least a clue of sorts where these supposed items were buried? Or did he just intend to fuck with her?

“Can't think like that,” she said aloud and pointed skywards. “Beatrix Belladonna will not be beaten so easily!” She refused to let down her parents, her friends, and especially her daughter! She would survive this, come out stronger, and return home!

In the distance another watched her haphazard movements across the scorched earth. The female silhouette, beneath an azure blue sky without so much as a stray cloud, hefted her stylized spear and moved in to track her hapless prey...