Held Hostage

Darkness. And not caused by your closed eyes. You lie there. Unthinking. Unfeeling. Unmoving. Distant pain is stacked behind your numbness, waiting for you to come alive.

Instead, you remain dead in this strange, unknown place.

Seconds pass. There's no ticking clock. Nothing implying the time. How long have you slept? What happened before this? You groan—but squeak instead. Your surprise fluffs your body.

Slowly… life returns. First, you breathe, tasting stale, contained air. Something lurks beyond it. An aroma mounted against the surrounding cylinder walls. The withheld scent is expansive and overwhelming… and remains outside. Its heat, however, warms this place. The hint of its smell pricks your beak.

"Mhm…"

Your head pounds. Your body is heavy. Your soul feels folded into itself a million times over. You feel impossible. You've never been aware of your own mass. None are. It's something sensed and had since the start of your life—it's so natural that it becomes unnoticeable.

…until it changes.

You can't put your talon on it. Lying on your side, you close your arms around your stomach, holding it. Your eyes try to open—but they can't. The gesture would be too much. Your vision would inspire vomit. You need more time. An extra moment.

"…oh?"

The voice catches you. It's larger than a cloud and more powerful than a storm. Yet, it is soft. Delicate. Careful. Hearing it is like being washed in a river of spring water. Its size and immensity scare you… but its tone comforts your fears. There's an inherent urge to trust it.

Your eyelids spread. Slowly, you see. Everything is dark, but you sense the impression of things. You feel like you are at the bottom of a birdcage. Around you, the ground is white and round like a disc, leading to ascending walls. They're clear, but cloth drapes them.

Now you really feel like you are in a birdcage.

And your owner wanted you to be asleep.

The cloth pulls like a pulled circuit tent. Intense, golden light blinds. Your eyes shut as you adjust to the change. Once the brightness is here to stay, you shake your head, barely reopening your eyes.

You regret doing so.

"Hello."

The voice casts another tropical storm that tears across the air, leaving no damage behind. Despite its size and strength, it doesn't wound your ears, nor worsen your mind. Instead, you desire to hear more—even as your heart pounds with mortal fear.

Rising weakly on the plastic ground, you stand somewhere in the middle of this chamber. Its interior is like a lava lamp. The view that interests you, though, is through the plastic glass. Outside your prison, a face looms. It is wide, vast, and massive. Yet it's refined, tight, and perfect. It belongs to the most beautiful mare to have ever lived.

Pink eyes see you.

They don't squint.

"Goodness. You slept for a while." Her eyes remain on you. It's a little scary. You look around to hide— but there's nowhere. "I nearly worried your body wouldn't handle the transformation. Mmm. Should have stayed asleep longer. Might've fooled me."

Your beak opens to speak: but only a wordless breath escapes. Fear and shock course through you, summoning a talon to your throat. Tapping around, your digits feel nothing different. You try to speak. Only air—and a cute, pathetic squeak—escape.

You feel trapped inside a snow globe.

The big mare smiles at you.

"Mhm. Cute. You make me want to do things with you."

You're struck. Your claw lowers from throat to chest. There, your heart beats wildly. You can hardly stop your grip from closing on itself. Standing there, fear bathes you. And there is nothing you can do.

"I've been watching you for a while." She hums. Her large pink eyes have yet to leave you. You feel so naked within their gaze. "Ever since you were a noble. Since you grew into a prince. Since you've reached kingship age." Her muzzle drifts near like an oversized ship attempting to dock. Her opening mouth fills your vision. "And I've wanted you. Needed you."

You squeak like a mouse. The sound echoes inside the chamber. Her open mouth smiles, revealing white, predatory teeth. You stumble back and look up, seeing out the chamber's ceiling. Above, the rest of her snout looms. Beyond it, those pink eyes stare down at you.

You're little more than a trapped toy.

"Your kind…" Your gaze lowers to her speaking mouth. Inside, it is monstrous. Vast, dim, and vacant. Her meteorite-sized words buzz your world. "…see you as a legitimate heir to the Bloodclaw lineage."

Her mouth opens fully, letting you see inside. Then, it exhales, torrents of breath blocking your view as the steam fogs the glass. Then—it's erased by a lick. You scream, fumbling backward. The rest of her tongue collapses against your home, more pink mounting, darkening your cell. The tongue drags up, licking to get inside.

It licks from base to ceiling, taking its time, every time, as you fall against the back wall, helpless to do anything. Once satisfied, the tongue retracts, slipping behind smiling lips.

"… you're important." You read those words from her mouth. Something so large… describing one so small. "And I need to keep you close."

Defeated, you touch your throat.

"Hmm? Ah." A giggle. "Why can you no longer speak?"

You nod.

"You're cuter that way." Her mouth remains afar. "You're like an animal. A lost, adorable thing, needing me. Your speaking would ruin that. I don't know you… and rather enjoy us that way. Our imaginations are just so much juicier. I'd rather read your every little expression."

Anger overcomes your face.

"…and even your anger makes me want to… m-mhmm…"

The mare turns away. Winds whip. Your chamber follows, rocking. You tumble about. Slowly, you question this place. Your flooring is pure plastic. Above, the circular ceiling can be unlatched. Just what were you inside of?

Looking around is hopeless. The room is too large and, thus, blurry for details to emerge. Closest to you was a stone wall with golden blinds drawn over it. Ahead, the mare walks, quaking the floor. Her clacking hoofsteps rhythmically boom. Her power is unmeasurable.

And she wants you.

Reaching her bed, she clambers onto it, lying on her side. The bed itself is pure white. Levitating your chamber closer, you float over her snout. Those eyes lock onto you once more.

"Seems like this is where we bid farewell." She smiles. She's repressing some joke. "I'd worry about you escaping. But all anypony will see—any griffon… is a little critter needing his owner." Her eyes close as the chamber lowers. She hums. The sound buzzes you. "Now behave yourself in there. Be a good little prisoner for me."

Her pursed lips fly toward you. Their size and weight collapse against the glass. Spreading, they consume your view. The kiss becomes all you see. Then, with a hum, those lips open. You see inside to dimness. Inside that mouth. The world that exists within.

Her muzzle pulls away.

"I wish I could play with you more." Her tone is sad. "You're such a cute boy. It's such a shame to put you away so soon." She hums. "Maybe, if you're well-behaved… you can come out and play."

Your capsule slowly lowers from her muzzle. You look above to see her watching eyes rise above your view. Soon, her face can no longer be seen. In front of you is her chest, white and fluffy, thick enough to capture you. Before you can spend any more time looking, the ride yanks right, zooming across the mare's belly.

You watch it with suspended breath. It's wide, curved, and gently inflates with delicate breaths. You watch it disappear to your left as something takes its place. The chamber floats back somewhat, allowing you a better view. Far below, the side of the mare's hip sinks into the sheets and mattress, creating a crater. Her flank is stacked upon the other. Her tail flicks up and out.

Your heart gives out.

Your chamber tilts forward. You slip on the plastic ground, dropping with gravity onto the see-through glass. Lying forward, you see your prison held sideways. Suddenly, there is pressure on your feet. Looking over your shoulder reveals a large, plastic disc. It pushes against you, inching you across the glass.

Your soul breaks to pieces. Primal fear freezes your blood. You try to breathe—but hyperventilation stops you. Sweat develops beneath your coat as you swallow at your upcoming death. Slowly, you look ahead. You don't want to—but your body commands it.

The once-glass ceiling has popped from its place, falling like a flab. It hangs. Warmth and stink barrel into the tube. Heat and sex water your eyes and clog your nose. Your eyes narrow, but you look outside. There, an impossible backside looms. Blurred. Hazy. Imperceivable shifting appears like waves on the sea.

Immense white squish devours everything. It is everything. All you can see—all you can ever know. Nothing is beside it. Not a thing exists above or below. Even her tail—which exists so high above—is beyond your view. There are just slanted flanks of healthy fat looming in your sight. And the sex between them. The smell is coming from there. You know it.

"How do you like the view?" the mare asks from an untold distance away. It's like she's not even here, anymore. Just this backside. "Colossal? Gargantuan? Is it appealing for you?" The chamber shoots forward, much of the flanks disappearing. What you see now is more detailed. You can make out the white furs coating the collapsed marshmallows. "I know we are of different species… but surely, there are not too many differences between us."

Your stomach turns at seeing the distant, furless sex, which appears gigantic no matter the distance. It's like a close valley waiting to take you in. At its base, a weak waterfall begins, leaking juices. Though its slit is closed… it seems hungry for you.

"I hope you like it," she says as your ride nears it. Soon, the flanks disappear to your sides. All there is ahead is pussy. "Because it will hold you for a very, long time. It will keep you safe. It will keep you warm. And it will keep you mine."

The syringe docks into the pussy. You watch the slit approach before turning, beating your claws against the plastic disc. Laughter booms outside. Then, a moan. Pressured, the disc slides inward, pushing against you. You slide across the chamber. Planting your feet does nothing as they slip across the smoothness.

"Mhm. What's the matter? You don't want to go in? Don't be scared." The head of the tube touches the side of the slit. It wiggles against the pair of lips, snuggling into the opening, which expands to accept the size. "I'll tuck you inside. You'll like it once you're in there. I promise you."

Sweltering musk and heat funnel into the chamber. The richness burns your nostrils. The heat waters your eyes. You clutch your face, rocking against the ground, pushed forward by an uncaring mass. You go deeper into the sweetly polluted air.

Everything begins to torment you.

Even closing your eyes offers no escape.

There are sounds. Distant thumping and non-stop crinkling. Everything operates in anticipation of you—and there is no escape. You turn around, still seen from above, lying against the platform. You rise against it, smashing a claw onto its surface. It stops.

The sounds behind do not.

"Y'know… this should be an honour for you."

The disc impresses all the way, pushing and turning you across the glass, the light filtering through the glass—disappearing. All turns dark as living flesh consumes you. Outside, there is a great stretch and moan. The goddess represses thrashing from her sexual conquest. You are pushed deeper into the darkness.

You are pushed outside.

You transition from plastic to flesh as the pressure on your side disappears. You try to move—but you cannot. You are inside a dark, starving forest, and all its plants want to tangle you alive. You are grabbed by everything and slid inward by countless forces. You scream—squeaking—as a thunderous heartbeat quakes above all other possible sounds.

Everything is dark, and you cannot see. Wetness develops beneath and around you, and it's what you slide upon. You attempt to move your limbs, flailing them, but they strike dumb, dense flesh, which hungrily swallows your impacts. Next, the density presses down—locking you in place. Everything undulates upon you. You are trapped in a tightly held pocket.

And are without a sense of direction.

Princess Celestia wiggled the tube deeper into her slit… dying at how the little critter spilled into her sex. He was clueless, helpless, and her little squeezes guided him deeper inside. She would have taken him all the way in… but why do the best thing first? It was enough to leave him with a little room. A little chance of escape.

"Mmhm!" She moaned, rocking her head. Soon, she settled, the influx of pleasure diminishing. But there was still that little tickle inside her pussy. Of her mean, gigantic walls, assaulting the poor, little griffon. "Goodness… you should be proud."

Levitating and slipping the see-through cylinder out, Celestia brought it to her muzzle, licking at the fresh liquids. "No griffon has ever been so deep inside of me." She went back to licking, loving the taste. It shouldn't have made sense. Yet, she enjoyed it.

Satisfied, she floated the tool to the bedside table, leaving it upright. Her following exhales desired orgasm. What I wouldn't give to explode over that little creature. But it's enough to know he's inside me. He'll constantly keep me on the cusp of orgasm… but never bring it about. It must be so terrifying for you. Being inside a mare that'll never climax.

Celestia rose from the bed and stepped onto the floor. She walked to the bedroom, lowering her tail, and leaving a trail of fresh juices.