The sky was dark and overcast as the pony trudged ever onwards. Thick black clouds without the promise of rain covered the sky as far as the pony could see, obscuring the sun to the point where the land was illuminated with a sort of twilight that never got brighter, and only darkened with the coming of night.

As the sky above, so the pony below was dark as well, his dark charcoal fur lit only by some midnight blue filigree that twined around his legs, neck and chest. Dark wings whose feathers gradually transitioned from one fur colour to the other rested along a lean, but well muscled back, and a face used to smiling looked out from beneath a grey mane a few shades lighter than the body.

Nightfire Grace had been travelling cross-country for days, seeking help for his mountain village of Hotspur, a hamlet so far from Canterlot that the village wasn’t even really considered to be Equestrian at all. Which meant that twenty years ago when an infant alicorn colt had been found as the lone survivor of an avalanche in the nearby pass, it had been easy for the villagers to anoint the colt as their “Prince” and eventually appoint him mayor.

Hotspurs were an independent folk, preferring to keep to themselves and solve their own problems. Equestria didn’t bother them, so they didn’t bother Equestria. Except that a few years ago permanent clouds had begun to ooze across the land, slowly growing thicker and thicker until now, they were beginning to block out enough sunlight to affect crops and threaten the village with starvation.

As prince and mayor, Nightfire had told his ponies that it was his responsibility to travel to Canterlot to try to find out what was going on, and to either get some help for the village or help stop whatever was causing these unnatural clouds. For unnatural they were, filled with acrid smoke and ash, and only responding to pegasus magic with great effort.

Nightfire had flown into one, once. His stomach churned as he remembered reeling out of the cloud desperately gasping for breath, barely able to see the ground rushing up at him through burning eyes. Only his flying instincts had saved him from a fatal plunge and he’d taken care not to fly into one ever since.

Which is why he had spent the past month travelling on foot.

He’d originally intended to follow the roads until he found a town big enough to have a train station, but after a couple of very strange encounters on the road, particularly one with a mare who tried to lock him into some sort of breeding harness, Nightfire decided it would be safer for him to travel cross-country.

He had plenty of food to last the trip and with Mount Canter in the distance as a guiding beacon he'd assumed getting lost would be almost impossible. At least that’s what he had thought when he had made that decision. It had taken exactly two more days for him to regret that choice as he lost sight of the distant mountain behind foothills, the ever present gloom, and the many, many branches of a leafless forest that blocked out even a hint of the great mountain.

Now, he was low on food, clean water and desperately in need of a bath. The few times he had ventured above the trees to try to get his bearings had only served to foul his feathers with whatever it was that was in the air, making flight unsafe. His every attempt at preening had left him retching at the foul chemical taste of the ashy stuff that was clogging up the barbs in his feathers.

It was getting to the point that he could smell and taste the foulness in the air with every breath, and he realized that he needed to get out of these woods, get back to the road and go back to his original plan. No matter the danger.

So long as he kept his eyes open and didn’t do anything stupid he should be o—

Nightfire’s thoughts came to a sudden halt as he realized that without really noticing it, he had reached the outer edge of the forest. In fact, across a few dozen feet of the dead ground in front of him, there was an actual fence that stretched to the left and right for some distance in either direction. The fence itself had a large sign on it whose writing was covered in something, and beyond it Nightfire could see the bare trunks and limbs of trees in orderly rows.

It could only mean that he’d stumbled across some sort of orchard or farm. Either way it meant civilization and help. At the very least he should be able to find a hose or something to at least rinse the terrible tasting gunk out of his wings so that he could fly again between the clouds and the tree tops. If he was very lucky he might be able to get directions toward Canterlot itself.

Nightfire clambered over the rough wooden fence, noting with a bit of worry that it was beginning to rot, which could mean that whatever he had come across was abandoned by its owners. So it was with some relief that less than a minute later he came across a rough lane way worn between two rows of the dead or dying trees.

Setting his hooves onto the track of beaten earth, the stallion trotted along through the macabre orchard. Whatever it was that was filling the skies with clouds had obviously been happening around here for much longer, if it had essentially killed this entire orchard. Nightfire began to wonder if travelling to Canterlot had been a mistake. Maybe he should have—

The stallion’s thoughts again cut off as he crested a hill and spotted the factory. At least it looked like a factory with its tall chimneys pushing smoke up into the clouds above. What confused Nightfire however were the glass domes that could be seen as regular humps along the roof of the extremely large building. Humps that shone with golden light coming from inside.

It was enough to convince the pony that the structure was actively inhabited, so it was with a renewed sense of relief that he cantered toward the building eager to find somepony to talk to. It took him several minutes to reach the closest side of the factory, passing alongside a lake-sized pool of some sort of foul smelling liquid as he arrived at a very, very tall wall that extended hundreds of feet to either side. Looking to both his right and the left, Nightfire wasn’t able to see anything resembling a door, but there were windows every thirty feet or so.

Nightfire trotted over to the closest one, and with a hoof scraped away the stinking coat of obscuring muck that seemed to cover everything on this side of the building. Peering in through the face sized gap he had created, the stallion gasped in a mix of shock, wonder and surprise as he looked down into the strange factory.

The interior floor of the building seemed to be set lower than ground level, giving him an excellent vantage point and allowing him to see clusters of apple bushes sitting in containers of soil. Bright lamps beamed golden yellow light down on each of them, with water sprayers regularly misting their leaves. Nightfire could see many ponies moving between the groups of bushes with some picking ripe fruits, some tending to the trees and some busy with other tasks.

Something seemed a little odd about the factory workers though. They were moving in an oddly mechanical way, and all of them seemed to be wearing some sort of dark uniform. Nightfire moved a few feet to one side and began clearing off another section of window, trying to get a better look at the ponies below.

His new spot didn’t give Nightfire any further insights into what the ponies below were doing, but one of them seemed to notice Nightfire, looking up toward the stallion before walking in a steady fashion towards him. As the pony neared his window, climbing a flight of stairs to an interior catwalk, the angle allowed Nightfire to notice that the approaching pony was a very fit earth pony mare.

It took her a couple of minutes to reach the window Nightfire was looking through and the stallion had to suppress a surge of desire as the blond mare drew closer. Whatever she was doing in the factory, it apparently required her to wear a skin tight suit of a shiny black material that gleamed under the interior lights of the building.

Glowing lines built into the outfit outlined and accentuated the mare’s muscles, making her every motion an advertisement for the body below, and it was a bit of a disappointment when the mare stopped moving as she reached Nightfire, gazing impassively at him through the thick material of the window between them.

“Hi there!” the stallion called, waving a hoof in greeting. “Any chance you can have somepony meet me out here? I’d like to get some directions to Canterlot.”

The mare didn’t move so much as a muscle at Nightfire’s greeting, and he found himself unnerved at the lack of intelligence in the unblinking green eyes beneath the mare’s unkempt blond mane.

“Uh… “ Nightfire began, unsure what to say next. If it wasn’t for the shifting highlights coming off the mare’s outfit as she breathed, the stallion would have taken her for a statue. A statue clad in almost impossibly tight gleaming black with accent lines…

With an equally tight silver collar around her throat.

Nightfire’s eyes widened, and as he started to reel back in shock, the motion triggered a response in the slave looking out at him. Without the smallest change of expression, the mare punched an unseen button and immediately an alarm began to hoot as lights came up all around the outside of the building.

Nightfire scrambled away from the window, consumed with panic. He had to get away! He had heard rumours from traders that Equestria's government had become corrupt, that it had changed from what it had been before the Day of Long Night, but he had never thought it could have gone this far, but that earlier encounter with that mare made sense. He never would have thought—

The stallion’s racing thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he tripped over something on the ground, stumbled, tried to catch himself with a last second flail of his wings and wound up crashing into the huge pool he had walked past earlier some distance from the shore. Surfacing, Nightfire opened his eyes, only to gasp in pain as whatever liquid was in the pool burned at the sensitive orbs.

Blinded, confused and with no idea where the shore was, the stallion flailed about trying desperately to keep his head above water. Several times he slipped beneath the surface, only to battle back up in time to claw some of the air, replete with burning fumes, into his lungs so that he could continue his forlorn battle for survival.

It was however, a battle doomed to failure, and as the minutes passed Nightfire could feel his alicorn strength and stamina beginning to flag and fail. Legs slowing, wings fouled, eyes and lungs seared from the painful toxins from the pool, the stallion felt a strange calm come over him as he began to go under for what would likely be the last time; when salvation made itself known with a whooshing sound and a sudden pressure around his neck as a lasso snugged into place around it.

“Don’t fight it you idiot!” called a male voice, as Nightfire tossed his head in an instinctive attempt to free himself. “We’re trying to save you!”

The words managed to penetrate the mind of the exhausted alicorn, and he concentrated on keeping his head up as he was dragged to shore. It seemed to take forever for his hooves to touch solid ground again and it was with shaking legs that he staggered back up onto the ground.

“Thank you,” Nightfire gasped out, before coughing out what felt like an entire bucket’s worth of water.

“You’re under arrest for trespassing on FlimFlam factory property, young colt!” declared that same male voice from earlier. “You’re just lucky we decided we didn’t want you contaminating the settling pond any further.”

“I’m sorry,” the stallion replied, clearing his throat and tossing his head again in an attempt to also clear his vision ignoring the loop around his neck for the moment. “I just wanted to ask for directions.”

“That’s rather suspicious. Something a corporate spy would… say, is that a horn on your head? Better not use any magic,” cautioned a second male voice, very similar to the first. “The chemicals in there have been known to react violently to magic.”

“Can you help me get this stuff out of my eyes then?” Nightfire asked, the feeling of being wet now being slowly replaced by a growing itchiness. “Please?”

“Wings and horn,” noted the first voice. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to be an alicorn, would you?”

“Yeah,” confirmed the stallion, the noose around his throat pulling a bit as he whipped his head around to chew at the all body itch that was becoming impossible to ignore. “I’m Nightfire Grace, Prince of Hotspur, and horsefeathers, why am I so itchy.”

“That would be the breakdown products of Flim and Flam’s ‘Magic Grow’ tonic, eating away at the skin under your fur,” said the second voice. “Which is why we put it in these pools, so it can break down safely. I mean we could help you, but…”

The voice trailed off.

“But what?” Nightfire demanded, the itching becoming all encompassing now as it began to progress into a burning sensation.

“Well, as my brother was about to say we could help you, but it would be awfully expensive, and as successful business ponies we can’t just be giving things away,” answered the first voice. “We could do an instalment plan. Say, forty percent interest, compounded weekly?”

“I don’t have any money,” Nightfire admitted. “I was on my way to Canterlot to ask for help. Please, if you can just get me there.”

The stallion couldn’t resist the urge, finally giving into scratching himself all over, but instead of finding relief in the scratching, those areas all began to burn with a rising intensity.

“You know, young stallion,” idly remarked the second voice, “I’d say you’ve got about five minutes before that stuff gets all the way through your skin.”

“Indeed brother,” confirmed the first. “And likely the damage to his eyes will be permanent by then. Not that he’ll have much time left to care about it.”

“You’re just going to stand there and let me die a painful death?!” Nightfire demanded incredulously. “Why did you even pull me out of the pond in the first place?”

“You were churning it up way too much, and your body would have contaminated it for months!” replied the first voice. “Much easier to get a rope on you and have 103 pull you out.”

“Fine! I’ll just charge up my magic and use it to get the stuff off of me,” declared the stallion, feeling the first twinges of true pain. “Even if I blow up it will be better than a slow death.”

“Wait!” cried the second pony he’d been talking with. “Would you be willing to work off the cost of what it would take to fix everything? It might take awhile, but if you were part of our workforce we’d be sure you wouldn’t skip out on your debt.”

“Okay! Fine! Just make it quick,” Nightfire shot back. “I won’t leave until you’re paid off! Just get this stuff off of me.”

“Witnessed and done,” stated the first voice, in a far too cheery tone. “Flam, if you would do the honours of starting up our newest cog in the machine of industry?”

“Wait, what?” Nightfire asked, confused.

“Gladly, brother of mine,” Flam replied as he completely ignored Nightfire’s question, who heard a loud “pop” as a container of some sort was opened.

A moment later Nightfire could have sworn he heard the hissing sound of a fire being quenched by water as a cool something landed on his back, right between his wing joints. Almost instantly the coolness began to move and spread across his back, wiping out the burning and itchiness, giving the stallion such relief he moaned with pleasure.

“That’s it, young stallion,” the first voice said, and Nightfire felt a hoof stroke the side of his face. “Just let the suit encase you and make you our property forever.”

“What?!” the alicorn shouted, opening his eyes in shock.

Through still burning eyes, Nightfire could make out a pair of unicorns stallion wearing casual business suits standing to either side of him, one holding a large, now empty thermos flask, the other holding what looked like an open collar, ready to snap around his neck. With adrenaline granted energy, the stallion attempted to rear up and away, only to find his alicorn strength countered by a sturdy rope connecting his throat to a harness wrapped around the body of the orange mare he’d seen before.

With the mechanical advantage the harness gave her, the earth pony mare was more than capable of anchoring Nightfire in place. He tried shifting off to one side or the other, but the unicorns used their magic to push him back into line with the orange mare. All the while, the coolness continued to spread across his back before starting to flow down his barrel and over his wings.

“Screw this!” Nightfire shouted, calling on his magic to free him. Only to freeze in stunned shock as absolutely nothing happened. Nothing that is, except for whatever was flowing over his body to shoot across his entire wingspan and start to involuntarily furl the feathered appendages.

“What… what is this shit?” the pony gasped, blinking his eyes clear enough for him to see the black tide that by now had nearly coated his entire torso. A tingling feeling seemed to shoot straight into his balls as his sheathe was covered and the entirety of the darkness tightened itself around his body.

“This, is a Mark III Suit Symbiote,” the unicorn on his right informed him. “It’s worn by all the ponies we own.”

“You don’t own me!” Nightfire protested, looking over his back in horror as his wings finished furling against his back, where they were swallowed in seconds by the black tide.

“We do now,” said the unicorn on the left. “By law, signed by our dear Princess Celestia. We are allowed to take possession of anyone or anypony that our suit encases. Just like good old Apple— uh, 103 here. For the good of Equestria, of course.”

“Just relax and enjoy the process,” the right hand unicorn continued, as the suit began to flow down Nightfire’s legs. “Once the suit finishes bonding with you we’ll be in complete control of you. Mind and body both. You agreed to pay for being saved, and the suit will do that, keeping you in the prime of physical and mental health.”

“I’m not even Equestrian!” Nightfire protested, the suit tightening slightly as it spread past his fetlocks and over his hooves. The burning sensation was now nearly completely gone, being replaced by a slight prickling sensation across the covered areas of his body.

“You’re a Cog now,” the left hand unicorn replied. “But don’t you worry stallion, my brother and I have big plans for you. Big plans!”

“Just let me go,” the alicorn begged, his eyes going wide as the suit began to flow up his neck. Nightfire again tried to break free and in desperation attacked the three ponies around him. The earth pony he was tethered to may as well have been a stone, for all the reaction she made to the one or two hits he got in on her, before the unicorns put up a shield to block him.

“HMMFF!” Nightfire yelled out, as the living rubber of the suit flowed over his entire nose and muzzle, cutting off his air supply completely. A moment later the world went black again as his head was covered, completing the full encasement of his body, and throwing him into a last final series of desperate struggles before collapsing to the ground as the lack of air took its toll.

“Get the collar on him now brother,” came the slightly muffled voice of the first stallion.

“Just a moment,” replied the second. “That hurt, and I want our newest acquisition to have a few moments to realize just how lucky he is.”

The moments dragged past and Nightfire could feel his last moments approaching, but as the final darkness began to encroach there was a new tightness around his throat and a new voice was heard.

“Suit interface initializing. Collar online,” stated the voice in a strange monotone. “Please provide authorization code and suit designation to begin full integration.”

“Collar, this is Flam. Authorization code, ‘Super Cider Squeezie 6000’,” Flam stated, getting back up from beside the fallen alicorn. “Suit designation: Cog-248.”

“Code accepted,” replied the voice, and Nightfire gasped as the suit uncovered his nose and mouth, and once again oxygen starvation made even the most fetid atmosphere smell like the sweetest flowers. “Designation accepted. Suit integrity at one hundred percent. Neuro-muscular interlink at forty-eight percent and climbing. Warning, toxins detected in host body. Chelation underway.”

Nightfire again felt a hoof glide along his side, dipping low to stroke his coated and encased member. Part of him wanted to kick or fight back, but he just let it happen, allowing himself to be fondled. Whoever these stallions were, they had him in their power. The best thing he could do for now was to give in, obey the commands of his... masters, and wait for an opportunity to escape later.

The hoof stroked him to mid-hardness before moving on to check the firmness of his thighs and rear.

“You always did like to sample the male line of our products, eh Flam,” commented the more distant of the two unicorns. “Planning on going for a ride?”

“143 never refuses you a ride. Control saw to that,” answered the stallion whose hoof was now sliding through the valley of Nightfire’s buttocks. “But Flim, I was thinking that our patron might appreciate 248 more than we would.”

“That, brother of mine, is an excellent idea,” Flim replied. “Let’s get 248 over to Control for its in-processing and we can discuss it over a glass of cider.”

“Capital idea, brother,” Flam answered. “Let’s get 248 up onto its hooves and retire to the boardroom. I can taste that cider already.”

Author's Note

Chapter 1 of a commission for Nightfire Grace. Hope you all enjoy it.

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