"W-why are you doing this?" Queen Haven asked, licking her dry lips and trying to swallow. Her mouth and throat burned.
"The court convicted and sentenced you," Hitch replied. He pointed to the deputy's star worn on his shoulder strap. "And I'm an officer of the court."
"Convicted me of being a karren! That's not even a thing!"
"It is now," Hitch replied, tightening the ropes binding her forelegs together. "And this is the punishment the court decided on for being a karren."
Haven's breath rasped in her throat. She tried to stretch her wings, but the bindings held them tight to her flanks.
Hitch kicked her forelegs out from under her. She collapsed to the ground, her chest and jaw landing hard on the marble tiles of her throne room. Her former throne room, now.
Haven had to keep reminding herself she was no longer Queen Haven. She stared at her regalia and robes, piled in the corner. Other than the burlap bindings, she was naked.
Never before had she felt so exposed, so vulnerable. She had to—had to get up, get out, and run before this happened!
Something in her left foreleg burned. The kick might have broken her pastern. Haven scrabbled against the polished slick floor, rear hooves fighting, trying to get back upright, but with her forelegs bound it was difficult. She got the bottoms of her forehooves on the floor, started to lever up, and—
—and she screamed, the world went dark for a second as the injury in her left leg shifted. She went down again. The bone Hitch had kicked was broken, for sure.
Panting, she blinked back tears.
Hitch loomed over her, casting a shadow, and his forehooves touched her wings through the bindings.
"Stop... please..." she whispered.
He lowered his torso until the fur of his chest touched the back of her mane. "No."
Hitch bit down, getting her left ear between his teeth. Haven gasped, tears welling again as he pulled, yanked, chewed. Hot blood flowed down her ear, down the side of her face from the mangled flesh.
"You taste royal," he whispered into her other ear. Hitch spit and a wad a bloody spittle landed on the tip of her nose.
He scooted back and she felt his massive, throbbing erection lying heavily on her spine, just above her tail.
She twisted, rolled, trying to kick him in the balls with a rear leg, and—
The kick hit her in the back of the head, slamming her skull forward and her chin smashed against the tiled floor again. She lost consciousness for a few seconds, maybe a minute, and when she recovered, she was coughing, choking on thick blood. She spit out more blood and felt a deep bite in her tongue.
Shaking her head, trying to recover, her eyes focused.
Focused on a bottle tossed onto the floor in front of her.
A bottle of sexual lubricant.
An empty bottle of sexual lubricant.
"I'm not a jerk," Hitch said. "I'm not going in dry."
Haven froze. Her body burned, sensations running up and down, overloading her ability to understand them, but she had to take stock.
Her left foreleg throbbed, the bone broken. Blood poured down her face from the ripped ear. Her wings hurt, the bindings too tight and making her breathing shallow, but her wings and torso weren't injured.
Tail: her tail was pressed sideways, one of Hitch's forehooves pressed against her dock. A wave of horror washed over her, a wave of humiliation, because he was staring at her pussy, at her asshole, her everything exposed and vulnerable and there was nothing she could—
Oh, oh no. Her crown jewels felt... wet. He'd put the contents of the bottle of lube all over her backside, all in her.
She closed her eyes. Her asshole felt... normal.
But her pussy was sopping, already sore. He must have jammed the lube bottle inside her and squeezed it empty. Cold greasiness rolled down her, wetting her clit and her nipples and her lower belly and her inner thighs.
"Hold still or I'll hit you in the head again. Do you want a concussion? Because that's how you get concussions."
She swallowed another mouthful of blood and clenched her eyes shut.
A door opened and she heard her daughter's voices. Haven's eyes popped open again. "Girls... girls, help me!"
Pipp and Zipp froze, staring at her and Hitch.
"What are you doing to our mom?" Pipp asked.
"Remember that whole big deal with a judge and a jury and everything?"
"Oh, right!" Pipp said. She waved. "Hi, mom!"
Zipp smirked. "Can we watch?"
Pipp turned her phone sideways and started recording video.
Hitch's weight shifted and something heavy and hard pressed against Haven's opening, below her tail. "No, no no no..." she whispered. Staring in horror at her daughters, she couldn't even clench her eyes.
Hitch started pressing forward and waves of pain rippled forward from where his dick met her labia. He pressed forward more, splitting her open and entering her channel.
"Yeah," he said. "I love this job. She's pretty tight, despite having squeezed you two out."
"She hasn't gotten laid in years," Zipp said. "Maybe decades."
"Oh, then I'm doing her a favor."
Haven sobbed, her body shaking as tears streamed down her face. He went deeper and deeper, his forehooves pressing in on her flanks until she feared he might break her wings.
"He's big," Pipp said, circling around to Haven's and Hitch's left sides to get a better camera angle.
The huge earth pony—the filthy, dirty, contemptible earth pony—dropped his weight fully onto her, smashing out her breath and pressing her down into the cold floor. The puddle of lube squished between her vulva and the marble, and he just kept going deeper in.
"Unf," Hitch said as he bottomed out. A sharp pain ran up the middle of Haven's body as his tip battered into the bottom of her womb.
"Please..." she said. "Please, you've made your point. Just... just stop..."
He shifted his weight backwards, pressing her hips harder into the floor and releasing the pressure on her lungs and wings. For a moment, a wonderful moment, she thought he was finished, and was going to stand up and—
"Smile, mom!" Pipp said, leaning in close and taking a selfie with Haven.
Hitch didn't stand; he just pressed his hips forward, his dick pushing against the bottom of her womb, the pain doubling and tripling, Haven's vision went black, and his fully-lubricated tip popped through her cervix.
Haven screamed, louder than she'd screamed before in her life as the pain ripped across her as he burst through the barrier and the enormous head of his dick penetrated into her womb.
"It feels cobwebby," Hitch said. "You'd think a queen could get laid more often."
"Right?" Zipp asked, before kicking Haven in the shoulder.
Hitch thrusted, a few short strokes with the tip of his dick trapped deep in her uterus. Her pussy squeezed around his shaft, but its squeezing was in terror, trying to push him out, not the pleasurable yanks of a pussy trying to milk a beloved's dick and keep it in.
The only mercy Hitch showed was to cum fast. He grunted and bit her mangled ear again as his dick throbbed and flared, the tight muscles of her womb stretched and ripped by the flaring of his tip and the pressure as he filled her with seed, his body spasming with every eruption.
After a minute, he kicked her in the back of the head again and began to pull out. The pain flared once more as his dick popped out of her womb and then he stood.
"There," he said, untying the wing bindings and the foreleg restraints. "You're free to go."
Zipp cocked her head. "Pipp, are you still filming?"
"Yeah."
"Film me sucking Hitch clean."
