Selective Service, Volume I

Glk Glk Glk…

The rhythmic sounds of muted gags and choked, marish whimpers was periodically broken by callous chuckles, throaty grunts, and sinful promises as nearly a dozen Aco-Lights set upon Vise. Each and every stallion present knew they’d get their turn, each having a chance to fill or coat her with their essence, though something was amiss. Instead of fighting her captors, the busty pegasus didn’t resist her captors - if anything, she seemed to be enjoying herself.

Her pouting lips mopped one stallionhood while a second pistoned in and out of her slavering, battered marehood. Servicing two studs would have been more than most ponies could handle at any given time, but not her - not anymore. Her wings, her hooves, and even her bounteous bosoms were all made use of by her myriad of miscreant lovers.

“Cum for me slut,” a thestral growled, hilting himself in her cunt.

She did as she asked, sputtering and choking around a changeling’s length. Marish, climactic juices sprayed from her depths, coating the stud’s loins as she trembled from the tips of her hooves to the top of her head - still, she endured. Throwing one foreleg upward, she grabbed the shapeshifter’s hip and urged him deeper into her gullet.

Her throat pulsed in tune with the drone’s throbbing shaft, thick seed dribbled from her nostrils and out from around her pouting lips, and tears of unfettered glee ran down her face. It was painfully obvious that they’d broken her, reducing her to little more than an outlet for their bestial desires, although they weren’t the ones pulling the strings.

“Having fun?” a sonorous voice chuckled, bringing the scene to a standstill. “Move away from her, I wish to inspect our newest recruit.”

The minions shuffled back, albeit somewhat reluctantly, and withdrew. Vise remained on the platform, leaking spunk from both ends and coughing to clear her airway as she turned her head to the side. Her eyes widened, a smile graced her muzzle, and she falteringly rolled from the table, overjoyed that the real show was about to begin.

Coming to a halt, Blister smirked over at her. “How’s my little sow doing?”

“I…I’m - Cough - I’m fine, s…sir,” she croaked, flopping from the table and unceremoniously landing on the polished, jizz-slickened floor beneath her.

She was a pale shadow of her former self. Where once a proud, intelligent, defiant mare had once stood, something that could only be described as an unseemly whore remained. Her mane was an unkempt mess, a golden chain led from a collar around her neck and down to her rings through her nipples, and her face was smeared with makeup and running mascara. Unsteadily trotting over to the imposing unicorn, she bowed in supplication and pressed her head to the ground.

“Master,” Blister corrected. “I’m your master.”

Peeking up at him, she inched forward and kissed his hoof. “Yes, m…master.”

The titanic stallion casually trotted around her, inspecting her as though she was a fine meal ready to be consumed, and came to a halt behind her. Though she didn’t budge, keeping her hind legs splayed and ready to accept everything he had to offer, she did glance over her shoulder at him - specifically the long, thick, impossibly huge length gradually slipping from its sheath at his groin.

Licking her lips, she raised her waist and flicked her tail to the side. “Master…?”

As he cooly extended a foreleg and rubbed her flank, he grinned up at her face. “Yes, my pet?”

“W…would you…” she trailed off, unable to tear her eyes off his intimidating endowment. “Would you like to relieve yourself with me?”

“Mmmmm,” he thoughtfully hummed, withdrawing his hoof to rub his chin. “Perhaps if you prove yourself worthy, I’ll -”

“P…please, master,” she whined, rolling her ample hips from side to side. “I live to serve you and Blister, master! Without you, I h…have no purpose!”

The titan’s lips curled over his teeth, twisting and growing cruel. “And what of your dearest brother, Torque? Surely he wouldn’t approve of his loving sister devoting herself in such a depraved manner.”

She turned and crawled beneath him, groveling as she brought her snout to the hanging tip of his length. “I don’t need him - I don’t need anypony but you, master.”

Not waiting for a reply, she lifted her head just enough to kiss his girthy cock-head. She wasn’t a whore, she was only barely a pony - no, in his presence, she was merely an object. He was bigger than her, stronger than her, and far more cunning than she could ever be, so it was only right that she fully commit her mind, body, and very soul to him. Opening her mouth and extending her tongue, she hotly made out with his stallionhood and shivered with delight.

As he snickered above her, lightly bucking his hips and driving his shaft into her muzzle, she slipped a foreleg under herself, between her weighty udders, and to her winking marehood. As with her teats, her bulgings clit had been adorned with a golden piercing - a piercing with none other than Blister’s sigil. Anypony and everypony would know to whom she belonged, even if it was painfully clear that she had no intention of ever escaping.

“Good,” he rumbled, stepping forward and plunging into her throat. “If you keep this up, I may just sire my foal with you.”

The mention of siring a foal made her tremble and climax on the spot. A torrent of jizz and nectar gushed from her quivering snatch, adding to the pool of cooling juices beneath her, yet she didn’t slow in fellating him. Forcing herself forward, she pressed her lips to his medial ring and awkwardly bobbed her head.

With a contented sigh, he lowered his waist and plowed her face. Perhaps he’d take pity and allow her to catch a sip of air, or maybe he’d continue rutting her until she blacked out - either way, she would be happy to act as his cock-warmer. He would ensure that his seed would take root in her, washing out any of his underlings’ essence, though she’d still tend to them all once she’d been bred - after all, a gravid mare was still more than capable of bolstering morale…

Throwing a newspaper away from the couch, Torque looked down at his crotch with disdain. The bruises and scrapes he’d gotten from confronting Blister hurt, the thought of what the nefarious unicorn was doing to his sister hurt worse, yet the ache in his loins was what truly pained him. Seeing the imprint of his turgid stallionhood struggling against his suit, equal parts disgusted and excited by what may be happening to Vise, he drew a forehoof down his chest and to the tented fabric over his abdomen…