Presence of Mind, Absence of Body

Wherever she is isn’t as bright as it was before. The air is cool, humid, and tainted with the acrid smell of sour magic. Worse is the taste of smoke lingering in the air. She shivers in the dark, trying to focus her eyes on something. Maybe she can surprise him when he arrives? A hoof, or in this case a fist, to the face is certainly not something most mages expect or prepare for.

A hand on her shoulder startles her, and she whips around and slams her fist forward in a last ditch effort to beat him.

He catches it.

They stand in the dark, both silent. He’s holding her hand in his like she’s a child attempting to hit an adult. His hands aren’t just warm, they’re painfully hot. He begins to squeeze her.

It hurts.

Twilight pushes forward, trying to push him back. Nothing happens.

He squeezes harder.

She tries to pull her arm back, surprised at his strength.

He holds her tighter.

She squeaks in pain and stops pulling away. “Ow…”

Sombra’s face is beaming with amusement; his cruel, glowing eyes the only thing she can make out in the dark. Smoke seems to waft off of him, and his voice is unnervingly omnipresent. “None of that now. I don’t need you to be particularly obedient, but I also don’t want to have to fend you off every time you see me.”

Twilight is shivering with frustration and anger. She should have been able to protect her human friends. She’s fought monsters so much more powerful than this. She’s older than them. She’s a princess. And yet, she wasn’t enough.

She relaxes her arm, letting him crush her hand if he wants.

He doesn’t, but he does continue to firmly hold her. A strange pulse of magic shoots up her arm, tingling and stinging, causing her to let out a short shriek of surprised pain.

He smiles. “Fierce. And definitely not human. Retrieving you was worth the hassle.”

Her voice is ragged. “What do you want from me, Sombra?”

He pulls her closer, wrapping one arm around her in a strange hug while he holds her hand to the side in a mockery of a dance. His voice is gleeful, but his tone is dark. Worse, he’s hot, reminding her of a burning coal pressed against her skin. It’s not quite searingly painful, but it’s hardly pleasant.

“What do I want? Nothing. You’re mine now and you’re just another trinket to me. I’ll do the same I do to all the trinkets I collect. I’ll keep you on the shelf and take you down when it’s time to play a game with you.”

Twilight tries to pull away, but he’s too strong and she’s too tired. She expected to be the subject of his experiments, sure. Maybe even tortured or interrogated. She hadn’t expected to be involved in his hobbies, but she doubts they are mundane. She wonders if the heat will burn her, and if he cares. “I suppose you aren’t talking about chess?”

He ignores her comment and gives her torso a squeeze, pressing her into him. He hums curiously and she’s silent in contemplation as she scowls at him. His hands feel nebulous, like they could be anywhere. Like he’s the smoke itself.

“I’m not usually into high school girls, but I get the feeling you’re older than you look… aren’t you?”

She stiffens, unsure of how to respond. That isn’t a comment that sounds polite—and his hands are certainly not being polite with their grabbing. Of course, they’re far past any civility. Any pretense of such is just him toying with her.

At least he has a sense of humor.

He squeezes her tighter and chuckles. The arm around her torso is so tight that it almost hurts. She’s pressed against his larger body uncomfortably. He’s more muscled than she realized and he towers over her. It’s like being crushed against a burning coal black rock wall by darkness itself. Twilight chooses to stay silent, staring into the darkness as her eyes adjust.

He’s amused. “Cute. But not cute enough. I hadn’t actually planned on taking a prisoner when I set out. I just wanted the amulets. I’ll need something makeshift to keep you… docile. Luckily I have some old equipment that should work.”

She does not like the twinge of excitement she hears in his unnatural voice. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at, but you don’t have to hurt me. I have a family back home, friends, responsibili…”

He interrupts her, pulling her away from his body. His burning gaze is suddenly intensely focused on her eyes. “Back home? And a family. How interesting…” his voice picks up, eagerly interested. “Do you have any children?”

The excitement and anticipation in his voice cause her dread. She doesn’t know why he’s asking that in particular, but she does know that it’s nothing good. “No… I don’t.”

He leans his face down to hers, the hellish glow from his eyes all she can see. He looks visibly disappointed, but also far too intense. His piercing glare makes her even more uncomfortable.

“Pity. I do so like women who are motherly. We’ll have to nurture that side of yours, wont we?”

Twilight feels an ice cold fear shoot down her spine as her mind comes to an uncomfortable conclusion. His excitement isn’t about magic. He’s not interested in what she is for academic purposes, or even increasing his power. She isn’t sure of the specifics, but she’s starting to get a better picture of what he intends with her. This is about how he wants to play with her.

“My friends will save me.” She knows it’s true, but she doesn’t know why she says it. It comes out like more of a whisper than anything. Perhaps it’s because she’s scared?

He chuckles. Sombra clearly isn’t worried. “Perhaps. But I’ve already put them down once. As they are, they aren’t much of a threat. The orange and red one was the only one who could even stand, and she’s… decades behind me. Maybe in thirty odd years she’ll be of concern.”

Not those friends. She knows they’re in no shape to help. She means her Equestrian friends. But they wont even know she’s been captured just yet. If Sunset is thinking clearly, she’ll go to Equestria and ask for help right away. Then again, Sunset looked very hurt, and Human hospitals are slow. If it takes her more than a day to recover, then her friends might miss the window for travel. If Sombra’s magic here was anything like home, Spike wouldn’t be recovering anytime soon either.

A terrible realization tumbles through her mind.

The books she enchanted to hack the travel spell matrix in the Crystal Mirror now belong to Sombra. She shouldn’t have brought her book with her. At least then her friends could come this way. With both books in his possession, they could only travel at the normal intervals of the mirror. That would be at least thirty moons after the portal closes, one day from now.

Twilight feels a cold fear settle in her gut. She’s clear minded enough to know that she doesn’t like this at all. She can guess at how badly hurt Sunset was. Nobody will know how to properly wake Spike up—he’ll be out for at least three days. Her friends wont be coming for some time. She’s in this on her own, for now.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She’s a princess. She can handle thirty moons of this. Whatever this is.

He’s watching. Worse, he’s smiling and his mouth doesn’t seem attached to his face in the dark. “It’s so amusing to watch you think. Friends or not, we need to make you comfortable while you wait for them. Come along.”

He starts walking, dragging her by the hand he’s still holding in his iron grip as he lets her out of the uncomfortable hug.

Her eyes begin to adjust to the dim light as she stumbles forward with him. It’s dark down here, but not pitch black. Clearly he uses magic to illuminate his sight—something that she’s incapable of doing right now. Still, the shadows are long and it’s difficult to discern anything more than basic shapes.

The walls are bare concrete of some kind. The floor is carpet in most places. It smells damp, and the sour magic permeates her senses. What is he doing with it? Why is this sickening magic everywhere? She stumbles forward as he pulls her into a darkened hallway, then into an equally dark room with a bare concrete floor.

She can’t see too well, but there are shapes in here. Human sized masses lurking in the dark, some larger and some smaller. Something that looks like a cushioned chair is stashed in the corner, and what looks like a strangely shiny bed is on the side of the room. Benches and tables litter the room, covered with odd shapes and straps like some abandoned warehouse of exercise equipment.

Most peculiarly, there are even free hanging straps and a few human sized dark letters. An ‘X’, a ‘T’, an ‘H’, and an ‘A’ all lurk in the dark; like letters stolen from a giant sign. Some have dangling ropes, and little loops. He pushes her forward, positioning her in front of him.

“Sorry about the mess. I know it’s not presentable, but I hadn’t been planning on having guests. I haven’t had the need to use these in a while, but they should be comfortable enough.”

In here his voice is more localized. It’s not from everywhere, just… around him somewhere. Watching his mouth move off his face while his voice comes from elsewhere is unnerving.

“What is this?” The fear rises in her stomach. Is this a torture chamber?

His unsettling voice is nonchalant. “What’s left of my little play dungeon. I haven’t had any good pets in a few years, but I’m sure it all still works.”

The only word she hears is “dungeon.”

“So a torture chamber, then?” She stares at the wall, noticing a shelf come into view in the dim light. It’s got tools on it. One looks like it might be a whip. Most appear club-like. The fear settles in her stomach.

At least now she knows. That’s better than not knowing, right?

He laughs. “I suppose for you it will be. I try not to hurt people too much, but you aren’t exactly people, are you? I don’t know what you are, but I’ll discover that soon enough.”

She shivers, weighing her options. It’s not like it’s exactly a secret. “I’m a pony. I’m not a human. I’m from an alternate reality. You don’t need to torture me, I’ll answer your questions honestly.”

He pulls her to one of the letters, the ‘H’, where he finds a metal cuff to put on her arm. “Curious. You clearly aren’t a pony, you look human enough. I’m going to be hard pressed to believe that you’re some kind of horse. And how will I know you’ll answer me honestly at all? You could be a demon, or a djinn, or, well, any number of creatures that would benefit from lying to me. No, I’ll find my own answers. I trust nothing out of your mouth… at least not yet.”

The metal fits tightly around her wrist. It almost hurts. “Ow!”

He ignores her, and grabs her other wrist, slipping it into another cuff. Her arms are secured to the tops of the ‘H’. The letter, the chains, the cuffs—they all appear built out of the same kind of metal. Is it iron, or steel? Does it matter? She glares at him with tears in her eyes. She’s not sure if she’s more afraid or offended at his nonchalant dismissal of her answer.

“I swear! I’m a pony!”

He hums curiously. “Indeed you do. And it seems iron works on you as well as it does the fey.”

Then he bends down and grabs at her feet. Out of reflex she tries to kick at him, confused by what he’s doing. She’s already his captive. Why does he need her feet? She shuffles again and pulls on her restraints. “Stop this! Please! I’ll do what you say!”

He glares at her, visibly angry as his eyes narrow and flicker dangerously. “Fine. Then hold your feet still. Put one foot here, and one there while I buckle them in.”

Awkwardly, she does as he asks. She listens to the echoing air in the room. It sounds strangely cavernous with deep, low rumbling vibrations through everything occasionally. A light breeze is in the room, just enough that the air isn’t completely stale.

Sombra straps her ankle to the beam, using some kind of latch to cinch it snugly down. At least this doesn’t hurt, unlike the cuffs. She lets him wordlessly do the same to her other leg.

“Where are we?” She asks.

He grunts, cinching the other one tightly to the metal post. “A series of chambers underneath a highway. It used to be a maintenance facility. I’ve repurposed it, and removed the entrances and exits. Magic is the only way in or out, therefore I’m the only one who can get in or out. If you listen close, you might hear the cars.”

Oddly, he unties her boots, but leaves them on her feet. It takes some time, giving her a chance to pull on her legs, finding them impeccably secure while he's unstrapping her boots.

Her voice is strained. “Why here?”

Sombra stands up and softly grabs Twilight’s cheek with a burning hand as he forces her to look him in his cruel, glowing eyes. “It’s very well hidden, you can’t get in or out without magic, and it has ventilation, running water, and electricity. Unless you’re talking about this room specifically. I used to run a little club in this room. Back before I sealed this place up from the outside world, all my little minions would come here and play with me.”

The sclera of his eyes are green, with red corneas. Somehow, a purple haze is wafting from them. Twilight blinks, letting terrified tears run down her face. She knows she should be brave, but the fear is overpowering. It always is with Sombra—even this strange human Sombra.

He continues as he stares at her. “The police found out about my little club when I had a woman bring her daughter out of curiosity. My mistake was my hubris. Normally I prefer women, but the girl was naive and I found amusement in probing the depths of her naivete. I decided to keep her as a more permanent fixture. She was easy to mold into my proper pet, but her young paramour grew jealous when he discovered exactly who his little goth girlfriend’s cuffs, collars, and tattoos were actually for. I’d truly expected him to abandon her when he perused the detailed photo album I’d had her gift to him. Instead, he brought it to the authorities. When the school found out I’d been using my position to blackmail, coerce, and extort parents and students… well… that was it.”

Twilight is disgusted. “That’s horrible.”

He smiles. “It was. Absolutely terrible for the dear, I’m sure. They ripped her away from me. Both her and her mother would be sweet, savory, happy little pets right now if the authorities hadn’t gotten involved. Just like the rest of them would have been. As I said, my hubris was my mistake. I should have bid my time instead of taunting the whelp. She had lived her double life flawlessly up until then.”

He sighs wistfully, while Twilight grimaces in horror.

“I didn’t have much magic then. I only knew how to feed on shadows… So I sealed up the old hideaway, studied, and honed my magical craft. I grew a fledgling power of fear into something a little more dynamic and significantly more powerful. I daresay I’m probably powerful enough now that no one can stop me. I’ve been focused intently on developing my magic. My other hobbies have been left wanting.”

She doesn’t want to know, but she has to ask. “And the rest of them? Your… pets?”

“Oh, yes. I had quite the little club. All gone now, of course. But for a while there were strapping lads, pretty women, and big breasted beauties all packed into this room and worshiping me with their bodies. You’re not what I’d call particularly well endowed, but you’ll do for now. A little practice to get me back in form.”

His hand brazenly grabs her breast and squeezes, surprising her with how forceful he is through her blouse. Twilight tries to turn away, but the straps hold her tightly in place. She now fully understands why he’s buckled her legs so tightly. She tries to kick him anyways.

He just smirks, squeezing her breast tighter. It grows quickly painful through the clothing, the pinching a biting, sharp sting.

The pain is intense, but not as bad as the odd embarrassment and confusion that rushes through her. Why would he grab a teat? He’s not a foal and she’s not nursing one. “Let go!” She shouts.

Surprisingly, he does. His smirk only grows wider. “How adorably innocent. I’ve missed this so much. You’re like a scared little puppy. Don’t worry. I’ll train you into being a proper domesticated animal.”

She glares at him, letting the anger seep into her voice. “You’re a monster. What’s wrong with you?”

He laughs, full bellied and hysterically. The laugh echoes through the hallway, bouncing off the concrete walls. He’s almost crying from how hard he’s laughing. He puts a now solidified hand on her shoulder to stead himself as he doubles over, and lets out one last deep guffaw before standing up and wiping away a tear.

“You have no idea how funny that is.”

Twilight is breathing quickly as her mind races, her body trembling while she thinks through what’s about to happen. She’s not used to this body. She’s used to her pony body. She’s never done anything like this at all in either body, but her pony body at least makes sense to her. The ever present miasma of fear consumes her and she begins to shake. Her breathing grows even faster. She’s not innocent, at least not intellectually. She knows exactly what he means to do to her.

An induced fear races through her body and it’s too much at once, too real. She had thought he’d be doing magical experiments with her, or physically torturing her, or anything that wasn’t this. She doesn’t know how to articulate her problem.

The terrified words tumble from her mouth in incoherent confusion. She feels warm tears on her cheeks. “I… please… I’m not me… I don’t want…. I can’t…. My first time shouldn’t… I don’t want my first time to be… in this body… This isn’t my body. I’m a pony…”

He stares at her, then a slow grin forms on his face, sliding slightly sideways. It’s terrifying. “I’ve always enjoyed a good game. You say this isn’t your body? That’s interesting. You don’t want me to be your first? I’ve no particular interest in doing so. I’m content to just play with you. We’ll do everything but actual sex. At least until you beg me. Do you understand?”

Sombra’s holding her cheek again. He’s staring at her. She wants to look away but can’t. It isn’t just his painfully burning hand—there’s magic. Some horrible, disgustingly sour magic that’s keeping her facing him and her eyes wide open. It isn’t just the fear anymore, she also has to answer. She doesn’t have to say anything in particular.

But she has to answer.

“I do! I understand!” She screams it, the tears running hotly down her cheeks. His hands let go and she whips her head to the side to suck in a few breaths. The compulsion leaves her. The fear subsides, but her heart thrums uncomfortably. His magic made her talk. It didn’t make her lie, or tell the truth, but it made her talk. That wasn’t something her Sombra could do. Her legs start to shake as a more natural fear settles in. One less immediately compelling, but far more sinister.

He presses his face into her cheek, licking her. His tongue is rough and warm—not hot. His words are definitive and slow as he tastes the sweat on her skin. “You’ll beg me eventually. Maybe soon, maybe later, but inevitably you will.”

Twilight tries to shake her head, but he’s holding it against his face. She closes her eyes. She’d never want to mate with him. He’s vile. Even his magic is repulsive. His tongue on her cheek feels like it’s trying to crawl into her skin, and the sensation disgusts her.

Thirty moons. It’s a long time. A very long time. But she just has to wait out thirty moons. In thirty moons her friends will find her. “No. I won’t.”

He laughs, softer this time as he lets go of her head and pulls back. She feels a wet spot on her cheek, cooling in the dry air. It feels acidic. She’s nauseous and shaking, unsure if she’s going to throw up. She doesn’t say anything as he walks to the shelf, digging around on it. She says even less when he comes back. He has an industrial set of scissors. They look dangerous.

She almost sighs in relief. Torture is something she was mentally prepared for.

He takes the scissors and puts them against her wrist. The metal is cold. She closes her eyes.

Snip

She doesn’t feel anything, so she looks. The scissors are cutting through the sleeves on her blouse, slicing it easily.

Snip

They move further down. She watches curiously for a second until she realizes that her clothes are being cut off. “Hey! Stop that! Those are mine!”

He stays focused, continuing his cutting. Snip. “You wont need them anymore. This room is always temperate, and they’ll only get in our way.” Snip.

Twilight shakes in her bindings, squirming left and right but with no luck. Before she knows it, he’s cut a line from one wrist, across her chest, and to the other.

She doesn’t object anymore as he cuts. She doesn’t even squirm. There’s nothing she can do to stop him and she knows it. He cuts down her front, splitting her blouse and undershirt in two. Her skirt falls as he cuts through it, revealing her purple panties underneath. He even cuts through her socks, tugging the cloth up through her bindings.

Cool air hits her shoulders as he pulls the now tattered cloth down off her shoulders. Her arms are next, as he slides the remnants of the blouse down. Only her bra remains on top, and her panties down low as he slides her feet out of her shoes and rips what’s left of her socks off.

Twilight shivers, now mostly naked in the cool air. She liked those clothes, and she’s somewhat angry that he destroyed them. “You could have simply taken them off.”

He looks at her curiously. “Most women aren’t particularly willing to undress the first time I get my hands on them. Especially if I have them in straps.”

She snorts, letting the anger dull her fear, using it as a bulwark against his oppressive magical aura. “I’d have much rather you didn’t damage my clothes… I like them.”

He laughs. “Well, that’s unfortunate because I’m about to cut off your bra next.”

She glares at him. “Just reach around and take it off. It’s got clips in the back. You don’t have to destroy it.”

Sombra seems confused. “You… aren’t perturbed at me disrobing you?”

Twilight blinks. “No? I just don’t like you destroying my clothes. I only get them in this body, so they’re somewhat precious to me.”

He raises an eyebrow and his face seems more… firm. “Curious. I’m going to cut them off anyways.”

She stares at him in frustration. “Why?”

He smiles as he takes the snips and clips the connector between the two cups of her bra. The cloth falls to the side, revealing her bare breasts. “Because I can.”

Twilight squirms uncomfortably cold in the air. She doesn’t have fur on this body. Worse, her teats in this world hang strangely without the bra. Back home, a mare’s teats only fill out when she’s pregnant or nursing. Here, the women have teats their whole adult lives. Usually they use cloth bras to keep them held tight, which is what she’d grown accustomed to. But now her breasts hung free in front of her. It is simultaneously freeing to not have them strapped in, and nerve-wracking to feel them hanging loose.

Sombra stares at them with a strange smile. “Your tits aren’t very big. We’ll work on that. I have a few tricks that will… mature them.”

Twilight glares back at him. “Why do you care so much about my teats?”

He blinks, confused. “Your… teats?”

She continues to glare, the frustration building in the back of her mind.

He frowns. “I’ve never actually been asked that. Teats? You’re serious about this horse thing?”

She snorts, almost amused at his confusion. “I’m a pony, not a horse. It’s very different.”

His eyes flicker to her panties, and Twilight groans when she sees his new focus. “Are you going to destroy them, too? You could have just asked me to get undressed. I get it. You’ve got me trapped. You win. Please stop destroying my things.”

Sombra furrows his brow. “I doubt you’d undress for me.”

Twilight sags in her bindings, the frustration giving way to a feeling of desperation. “If you told me the options were to get my clothes destroyed or take them off, of course I’d take them off.”

Sombra looks back up at her face. “How… odd. And you say you’re a pony?”

She smiles, wryly attempting diplomacy once more. “Yes. I am a pony. Specifically a unicorn… or I guess an alicorn now, but I’ve been a unicorn most of my life.”

Now he’s interested. “A unicorn? How curious… Perhaps that explains it. And these trinkets your friends had, are they your doing?”

Twilight smiles at the memory of her friends getting their necklaces. “Not exactly. They’re magical manifestations of the magic of harmony. I was the catalyst, perhaps, but the magic is… was… their own. This world doesn’t have as much magic as mine, but it’s still here. Little pockets exist hidden away.”

He frowns. “I am very aware. I’ve made a habit of collecting what’s in those little pockets in addition to my usual fare. And today I found you in one. You seem much more… paradigm shifting… than just another trinket.”

She strains, desperate to get through to him. “I’m not a magical anomaly. I’m a living person.”

“Not in my world. In my world, you are exactly a magical anomaly.”

Twilight’s smile turns down as a flash of vindictiveness runs through her. “In my world you’re dead.”

Sombra’s eyes widen in surprise. “Now that is interesting. But unfortunately, I don’t believe your fairy tales just yet. We’re going to have to get to know each other a little better first.”

Twilight snorts, getting comfortable with the feeling of frustrated anger. It’s much more natural than his magically induced fear, and far easier to manage. She knows she’s being pedantic, but she doesn’t care. “I’m a pony, not a fairy.”

He presses the sharp end of the snips into her belly. Not enough to cut her, but enough to be uncomfortable. Twilight looks down, the fear returning as she watches the cool metal cause her skin to dimple. It almost hurts. Her body goes still as she watches, suddenly afraid that he’ll use the scissors to stab her, gutting her open.

His voice is cruel. “Human, demon, djinn, pony, unicorn, or fairy… it doesn’t matter to me. You’re going to have to learn some manners no matter what you are.”

She’s silent and still, not even breathing as the cold scissors draw a painfully tingling line down her abdomen. No blood is drawn, but the scratched line left on her skin lets her know that it’s only barely. They slide down, catching her panties in the blade.

Sombra smirks. “Snip.”

He says the sound as the scissors make a cold, metal cutting noise and her panties rip down the middle. Without delay, he cuts down either side, and the panties fall down behind her.

Sombra stares at her purple naked pubic hair as the scissors fall away.

Twilight breathes a sigh of relief, her eyes watching the scissors. “Okay, the last of my property is destroyed. Can you… put the scissors away, please?”

Sombra looks up at her with a furrowed brow again. “That’s it?”

She shrugs, glad the metal isn’t pressed into her skin anymore. “I guess? I don’t really know what you’re going for here. Am I disappointing under the panties or something? I’m not very good with human bodies. Did you expect different genitals? I am female. You were looking at my vulva, and I think it’s called the same in this world. At least I have a similar vulva in my other body.”

Sombra stares at her in naked confusion. “No embarrassment? No begging, no squeal of shame, no anything? I had you pegged as innocent. Are you more experienced than I thought?”

Twilight frowns. “I’m not entirely sure what you’re talking about. I was begging you not to destroy my clothes earlier, but you didn’t seem interested in listening. I’m also not sure why you humans are so fixated on clothes. I almost never wear them back home. They’re a luxury, which is why I’m so frustrated you destroyed mine. It’s a waste.”

Sombra picks up the tatters around Twilight and watches her face curiously. “How… interesting. You really don’t mind being naked around me?”

Twilight shrugs. “No.”

“But when you’re naked I could grab you. Maybe even hurt you.”

She rolls her eyes. “You grabbed me when I was clothed. It hurt. I doubt the clothes make much of a difference. If you want to hurt me, you’ll hurt me. My clothes are irrelevant to that.”

Sombra’s eyes track down her naked body, focusing intently on her pubic hair. He seems intrigued and oddly hungry.

Twilight scowls; not at where he’s looking but at how he’s looking.

He reaches a hand out, touching the side of her hips. His hand is hot, a sharp contrast to the cool air or the cold metal bar behind her back. She shivers, wondering what this would feel like if she had a cutie mark. She’s glad she doesn’t. Her current body just has skin there. No doubt Sombra would perform some horrible magic on her cutie mark.

His hand widens and he presses his burning palm against her flesh. He’s strong. She’s pushed slightly to the side, the pressure uncomfortable and causing her to frown. His palm flexes, and his fingers press into her soft skin.

“You’re… not too fit, and not too firm. I think perhaps… sixteen hundred calories will do. We’ll see how you respond.” He smiles.

His touch makes her skin feel like it’s crawling away from him. He lingers, just letting his hand grope at her.

There’s little she can do.

Twilight waits it out, closing her eyes against the dim light and glowing eyes. She takes a deep breath, calming her nerves and trying to ignore the sensation of his touch. She can’t move. She has no magic. Nopony can find her. The thoughts race through her mind and she can do little but briefly entertain each of them.

His hand slides further back, grasping around her backside at her buttocks. He gives it a squeeze, causing her to twist uncomfortably.

She frowns. He laughs.

“You squirm nicely. This will be fun. You wait here. I’ll be back in a minute. I have some trash to throw away.” He holds up the clothes just as Twilight opens her eyes.

She doesn’t say anything. Instead she hangs her head as he walks away.

At least he takes the damned scissors with him.

Her heart races as he leaves, and her mind crashes into a hundred what-ifs. What if she’d been faster to recognize him? What if she’d brought Rainbow on this trip, or left her Twilight’s book? What if they’d hidden the necklaces or the books better? What if she’d told somepony where she was going? She knows these thoughts are all traps. None of them can free her body, or her mind, but they call to her anyways. Sadness wells up inside her and she forces it down. She knows she needs focus. She needs a goal. Thirty moons is something tangible.

It is a long time. A very long time. But it’s also not an impossible time.

Her thoughts are broken up when he returns, stepping noisily into the room. He is carrying something small and black. Her eyes have mostly adjusted to the dim light, so his glowing magic seems bright. She blinks against the light.

“How cute you are. But I have a few preferences, and you’re going to be meeting them.”

She sighs, dejectedly.

Sombra steps in close to her. “First off, I like a nice clean shaven look. That means you’ll have no body hair. We’ll start with this razor, but I have some chemical hair remover that’s a little more permanent. We’ll save that for another day, hmm?”

Twilight doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to look away and focusing on resisting his aura of fear.

Sombra chuckles as the black thing begins to buzz. He places it against her skin, just under her armpit, and she flinches from the cold metal. She tries not to think about it. “I don’t have a safety rail on this one. It’s designed to get close and personal. So don’t move too much. You might get cut…”

It’s cold, but at the same time warm from the tingling. It scrapes across her skin as he moves it, hurting but only slightly. Twilight winces, feeling it scrape over and over underneath her arm, the tingling buzzing leaving her feeling cold. When he pulls it away, her armpit feels colder than it had before, and the skin scratchy.

“Good. Now the other one.”

She doesn’t move as he does the same thing to her other side. It’s somehow demeaning, but she can’t articulate why in her thoughts.

He smiles wide. “Next is your little bird nest of pubic hair. It’s cute for a high schooler, but we both know you’re more mature than that.”

Twilight shivers again as he places it on her abdomen. She has to force herself to hold still as the buzzing thing moves uncomfortably lower, scraping across her skin like a horn file. It still hurts, but not too much. As he goes lower, she feels the metal press against her inner thigh and outer labia. It’s cold and tingles.

A prick of pain startles her as a hair is caught in the blade, then the prick is gone. She sucks in a breath. Twilight hates metal against her body. First the scissors, now the clippers. She doesn’t move as he carefully trims around her labia, sliding the razor even further around back towards her bum.

It’s mostly painless, but occasionally he catches a wild hair. She tries not to jerk too much when it happens. He’s watching intently, his glowing eyes illuminating the work he was doing on her now fully exposed genitals. After another awkward minute, he pulls away.

“Perfect. You are surprisingly very… compliant, aren’t you?”

Twilight scowls, feeling the new cold sensation between her forcefully spread legs. “I don’t have a lot of options right now. Besides, it’s just hair.”

Sombra smiles, still crouching in front of her mons pubic. He leans forward and plants a single kiss just below her belly button. “I can appreciate a practical woman.”

The kiss is the first thing he’s done since the lick that’s intimately disturbing. She shivers, feeling sick to her stomach. She didn’t want his mouth anywhere near her body, and the painfully burning heat from his lips feels wrong and twisted. She imagines a slug, or some kind of crawling ladybug touching her where he did and she feels dirty. He feels gross.

Sombra stands up. “That covers the first few things. You’re naked, restrained, and clean shaven. We’ll work on your tits later, and I have some ideas for tattoos and piercings. But they can wait as well. I want to make you comfortable first.”

Twilight doesn’t like how that sounds. She takes a few deep breathes to prepare herself.

“First, we’re going to get to know each other a little better.” His eyes flicker, and his smile grows hungrily as he starts to take off his shirt.

She shivers, watching the clothing fall and being reminded that she was angry that he destroyed her clothes. “You promised not to mate with me.”

Sombra unbuckles his pants, letting them fall to the floor as well. He seems confused by her choice of words. “I did promise. I won’t… mate with you until you beg me to.”

The sound of shoes clattering distracts her, and he’s standing in only his underwear. His body is dark, pitch black even. He’s strong as well, his seemingly thin torso hiding a pack of muscles that are visible underneath his skin, somehow shifting in his shadowy form. She can see a bulge in his underwear that wasn’t there before. Her eyes drift upwards towards his shoulders. They’re wide.

Twilight isn’t sure what to think. She’s not sure what’s normal in a human male. If he was a pony, she’d gauge his health by a large frame, a strong neck, and a gleaming coat. All she feels is discomfort and annoyance as her eyes glance down awkwardly at the clothes. His clothes were intact. Which made sense. He wasn’t about to cut off his own clothes. That doesn’t make her less angry about it.

Sombra struts forward, seemingly proud. “But I also promised to do everything but fuck you, didn’t I?”

She stares flatly at him, refusing to even acknowledge the comment.

He pauses, looking down at himself, then at her, then back to himself. His eyebrows furrow again, as though this isn’t going to plan. His wandering, smokey features seem to solidify and there’s a coal black form standing before her. “No gawking, staring, or even nervous looking away? Just a glance and then a bored stare? Am I not even attractive anymore? Is this what middle age is like?”

Twilight frowns. “What?”

He stares at her quizzically. “Most women at least try to sneak a peek when I strip. Maybe avert their gaze if they are the chaste type. You just… stare.”

She blinks. “Is this another nudity taboo thing? I’m not really bothered by that, I told you.”

Sombra sucks in a breath, clearly disbelieving her as he gestures down his sculpted body. “You’re not bothered by… this?”

Twilight rolls her eyes. “I am very bothered by this. Horrified and disgusted even. Just not at the nudity. Nudity is normal and natural. Your aggression, violence, coercion, threats of rape, and generally disgusting attitude and behaviors are not. They are what bother me.”

Sombra grins. “Cute. Very cute. You know, I’m becoming more of a believer by the second, Miss Unicorn. What was your name again?”

Fury wells up inside her as she latches onto a new reason to be angry. “My name? All this and you don’t even know my name? Really?”

Sombra shrugs noncommittally. “Your friends might have shouted it at you? I wasn’t paying too close attention. I was more interested in that unique magical signature of yours.”

Twilight lets the anger roll through her, then takes a deep breath to really feel it. “Fine. Just call me Princess.”

He raises an eyebrow in disbelief. “Princess? Really? I doubt it’s your name.”

Twilight smirks. “It’s not not my name at least. Maybe I’ll tell you more when you start to respect others.”

Sombra smirks back. “You’re more fun than I thought. Princess it is then. Maybe you’ll tell me more when you learn to respect me.”

He steps forward, closing the small space between them. Twilight’s smirk falters as Sombra’s hand raises to her head, grabbing her by the chin. There’s no sweet approach, and no gentle caress. He simple leans in and pulls her chin down just enough to force her mouth open as he presses his lips to hers.

The sheer audacity of the action catches her by surprise. His lips are warm, too warm, and the sickly stench of stale magic fills her nostrils. She tries to pull away or close her jaw, but the hand holds her still. She’s pretty sure she can fight the fear off at this point, but the magic still feels tainted and clinging.

She doesn’t struggle otherwise. All she does is close her eyes, blocking out the green glow. Something slips into her mouth, and a long bumpy thing drags roughly across her tongue. She stops breathing. His tongue is in her mouth. She knew this would happen. But the reality is very different than what she imagined.

Her mouth is dry, but unfortunately his is not. Worse, his tongue is actually slimy and rough, pressing down on hers. It tastes like nothing, but Twilight’s heart starts to pound as she feels his other hand grab at her teat. He’s too strong for her to pull away, even if she wasn’t pinned to the giant ‘H’. The hand on her teat squeezes, massaging her flesh with his. She feels his hot skin brushing against hers as he pulls roughly on her teat and drags his slimy tongue through her open mouth.

The experience is disgusting. She feels nauseous, and has the sudden need to retch. She wasn’t ready for so much in her mouth. Neither was she ready for it to feel so alive, slimy, and moving inside her head.

Sombra pulls back from the kiss as she coughs, leaving his hand lingering on her teat. She feels hot. She feels cold. She glares at him, feeling angry tears well up in her eyes. He doesn’t care and she knows it. He doesn’t care how gross he feels inside of her. She coughs again, fighting the acrid smoke lingering around her face as it continues to burn her.

“I don’t like you.” She flatly says. Her voice is gravely and strained, still feeling the weight of his spit in the back of her throat, and raw from the sudden coughing.

Sombra smiles. “Don’t worry, Princess. You don’t have to like me. You just have to learn to please me.”

He pulls at her chin once again, this time more loosely. He’s not forcing her mouth open yet, he’s only coaxing her. She wants to resist him, but she also doesn’t want him to pull her lips apart again. Slowly, she opens her mouth as he leans in for another kiss.

This time he’s warmer. She’s prepared for the moving, wriggling tongue. His hand on her teat continues to grab at her, squeezing and molesting her flesh. She’d been ignoring it, but now her teat is heated and tingling; the sensation is rippling towards her spine. He licks her tongue, suckling her and savoring her. She holds still, unwilling to let go of her anger but letting him explore her. It’s sickening, but bearable.

Then he pulls away and she breathes. Her face is warm. His is only dark. She looks down at her body, and sees his even darker hand still pulling and teasing at her teat. There’s two marks on the side of her breast. They look like bruises. She didn’t feel them happen, but there they are.

She looks back up as he grabs her chin again. He’s smiling and licking his lips.

She’s not.

He pulls at her mouth again and leans down. She’s disgusted with herself. Emotionally, she knows she should fight his advances, or make some effort at all. Intellectually, she knows the effort would only make her situation worse. The worst of both worlds happens as she panics and screams violently into him. Her stomach twists as she realizes that she only opened up for him again; her voice was entirely muted by his lips and the ever-present smoke. Her mouth feels his again, and this time he’s hungry.

He presses into her, meeting and matching the contours of her mouth with his. His tongue is hot and strong, finding hers and pressing forcefully down on it. He’s sending a message. He’s the one in charge here. Shivering, she has to agree and her flaccid tongue says as much. There’s little she can do, and even less that she’s willing to. Frustrated, she struggles against her straps, hoping something will break. It does not.

The kiss drags on, longer than the previous ones. He’s punishing her for screaming, perhaps. Her lungs start to burn and she aches for breath. His hand lets her teat fall loosely, giving a moment of relief from the constant molestation. Then, fire blossoms from it. The very tip of her teat, the nipple, is pinched tightly and fiercely. She lets out a small squeak of surprise into his hungry mouth as an electric bolt of sharp pain shoots straight to her spine. The tingling causes her to suck in a breath and warm smokey air fills her lungs as he exhales into her.

She doesn’t know what to think. Her nipple still tingles, but it’s not in pain. Or rather, not just in pain. Underneath the sharp sting of his tightly pinching fingers is an electric wire that’s suddenly been turned on, connecting his fingertips to her lungs. With each squeeze she breathes his air out, back into him, and he breathes his sickening miasma into her.

She makes a noise. Not a scream, or a moan, or a squeak, or anything concrete. Just a small, quiet noise that he inhales the same as her scream, never letting it escape into the world.

Satisfied, Sombra pulls away again, licking his licks. He’s smirking again, his confident and arrogant smile looking all too self satisfied. Twilight shivers. Hot tears fall own her cheeks and her arms feel weak. She tries to cough and spit his burning breath out, but nothing comes out except normal air. She feels tainted. The ever present fear sneaks up the back of her spine. At least, she hopes it’s the fear.

What the hell is this? She’s kissed a pony before, just once, but it hadn’t been anything like this. Her heart is racing and her face is burning with a deep blush. Is it an oxygen imbalance from breathing in his smoke? Is it a pain response from her now throbbing teat? Is it just from his hungry kiss? Is it magic?

Sombra takes a deep, satisfied breath. “That’s a good little Princess.”

Twilight shivers as he grabs her chin again. His voice makes her stomach flip. He leans down and this time she shuts her lips tight. She doesn’t know why. She didn’t think she would still be able to fight him, but now she is afraid in a new way.

Somehow, her dignity is on the line. Let him force her. At least then it’s him doing it to her and not her… She closes her eyes, not willing to see any of this. His lips press against her closed mouth and stay there.

He doesn’t say anything, but his hand gently grabs around her nipple. Her heart skips a beat. Then he begins to slowly squeeze it. She lasts almost half way to the inevitable lightning. She can’t risk that again. She opens her mouth for him and he doesn’t hesitate to claim her tongue with his.

The pinch stops getting tighter, but Sombra doesn’t let go. This kiss started fast but moves slow, unlike the last one. He’s not in any hurry. She shivers as he takes his time, his fingers slowly rolling her nipple between them. It drags on, and she feels heat in her cheeks. Her whole breast is tingling now. She’s been breathing heavily. Worse, she quickly grows desperate for breath and soon enough is breathing him in; while he’s been breathing her out. She hadn’t even been thinking about it. She almost can’t taste the smoke.

Is that a bad sign? He seems far more real now. A creature of flesh and blood and not a shadowy monster.

Is this a real kiss, or is it something else entirely? Is sharing breath like this normal? She’s never done this quite like this before, and doesn’t even know. His tongue languidly dances across hers as she thinks. Twilight’s always been one to contemplate things. She wants this to stop, but knows it wont. He goes from rolling her nipple to plucking gently at her teat. Little pinches that pull on her skin, stretching it and letting it spring back into place. It feels strange. Each little pluck is a tiny flower of pain.

It doesn’t take long for her breast to become a garden of sensation. He pulls out of the kiss again, and this time she feels dizzy. Why does she feel dizzy? She’s afraid of that question. Or, maybe she’s afraid of something else? It’s hard for her to focus.

Her eyes stay closed, but he doesn’t stay to savor the look on her face. Instead, he drops his mouth to her plucked teat. His hand finds purchase on her other teat as he begins to suckle like a foal.

The sensation is bizarre and she gasps in surprise. His lips are wrapped around her nipple, pulling and squeezing it. He’s performing some mockery of nursing. Adult ponies don’t do this. He’s suckling, pulling the flesh into his mouth like he can get something out of it. It tingles. It burns. It squeezes. Twilight shivers as his hand begins to grab and molest her other teat.

She feels his tongue drag roughly across her nipple. It’s hard and bumpy. It’s hot. It tickles and tingles as it rakes across her flesh. She’s too warm, and this is too strange. It doesn’t hurt at all anymore. It’s a sensation far more terrifying than pain. Even when his other hand plucks. It tingles.

Warm, shooting tingles.

A long suck, and then cold air signal when he lets her nipple out of his mouth. Another noise escapes her throat and she shivers. This time he slides up, letting his body press against hers. The sensation of feeling his hard chest against her still wet nipple is almost as alarming as his tongue leaving a burning hot streak up her neck. The duo of feelings are so distracting that she doesn’t realize she’s kissing him again until her tongue is pressed against his. This time he’s not just exploring or dominating her. He’s enjoying her.

Her tongue twitches, feeling the warmth and texture of his. It’s slow. It’s sensual.

She doesn’t know how long it is before she’s breathing in him again. She can feel how close he is to her, his stomach pressing warmly against hers. A hand from somewhere gently grabs at her wrist, just below the cuff, and slowly scratches across it. It startles her, shocking her with how erotic the simple act is. The warmth from the scratch is tingling already. She moans into him, and he breathes in her moan.

In the back of her mind she reluctantly admits that his touch isn’t painful anymore, just warm. Was it ever, or was that some illusion? He couldn’t truly be made of coals…

Either way, she’s never felt this warm before. All of her is too warm. Her whole body tingles. Her eyes flutter open, not focusing on anything. His press against her, his whole body clinging to her and she feels it. He’s not shy about the bulge in his underwear, it’s pressed firmly and confidently against her pubic mound. This is not something ponies do. This is not something friends do. This isn’t even something enemies do. His hand drapes across her back, grasping at her and dipping lower until he’s holding her buttocks.

Princess Twilight Sparkle of Equestria, the Element of Magic and Alicorn of Friendship, is wholly unprepared for this experience.

Twilight is dizzy. Something in the back of her mind reminds her that she needs to stop this, to fight or flee. He is incredibly dangerous, and her fear is a strong primal urge. Another part of her mind knows that a big, forceful male with very clear intentions is pressing her against a wall and strongly suggests she does nothing to stop this. The fear starts to agree. The best thing to do is exactly what he wants.

The thought scares her even more, so she compromises and weakly squirms in her bindings, reminding herself that she has no options. No escape. No possible safety. To comply isn’t a choice for her; it’s an inevitability. He grabs her by the back of her head, pushing them together even tighter. She’s wrapped in him. She has no choice but to let him d…

His skin is too damned warm. She shakes. He squeezes her butt, pulling her cheek almost painfully upwards. She’s surprised at how nice it feels as her stretched flesh spreads other parts of her anatomy. Parts she really hasn’t given much thought to in her human form.

A new warmth ignites inside of her. One much lower, and much stranger. She’s never felt exactly like this. It’s a fluttering heat like when she first bumped into Flash Sentry, but a thousand times more strong and centered nowhere near her heart.

Oh Stars… that isn’t her heart throbbing at all.

The heat is both enlightening and distracting. She’s pressing back into him now, with the little movement she has. She doesn’t know why. She knows deep down that shes stronger than this. She also has very convincing empirical evidence that she is not. She never knew she could feel this hot. Pressure builds up in between them, an invisible force that she’s feeding from. It’s like a field of tingling, almost sinfully painful pleasure that rolls upward and outward from her…

Is it from him? Is it his magic? It’s deeply erotic in a way that she’s never considered. Twilight’s relieved as she twitches with the shuddering sensation, finding a strange comfort in that.

This isn’t her fault. She’d never do something like this. She’s never even had a fantasy like this in her life. Ponies, especially her, don’t think like this—she’s sure of it. Of course he’s ensorcelled her somehow. She must be being manipulated by his sour magic, a spell forcing her body to feel so hot and strange. Almost certainly the smoke she’d inhaled… so much of.

Her fantasies had always been more mundane. She’d meet a big, strong jock of a pegasus that had a secret penchant for books. He’d ask her out. They’d go on a date where he talked about hoofball and Twilight silently measured his wing length to shoulder width ratio while pretending to care. Then he’d take her home, there’d be wine, and she’d show him how great a well formatted index card of notes was. Soon enough he’d be using his wide, strong build to pin her to the bed, biting her neck and claiming her as his mare while he wrapped her in his comforting wings… And then she’d finally have a useful reference point for measuring how accurate romance books were.

Instead she’s tied to a strange letter being forced to kiss one of her greatest enemies while he leaves her body burning and her heart beating somewhere between a terrified panic and somethinig far more… oh.

The kiss ends and Sombra pulls back to catch his breath. Twilight stares at him, her own lungs heaving and her mouth drooling from the corner of her lips. She’s sure there’s no practical distinction on who’s spit it is anymore. Oddly, her mouth isn’t the only thing with a wet smear. She tries not to think about the new sensation between her legs, or the debauched heat she is nurturing.

“You’re a good kisser, Princess.” He seems contemplative, staring into her eyes as he wipes a bit of their drool off his lips.

Twilight doesn’t say anything. Her cheeks are burning and her teats are tingling with a euphoric warmth. It’s not just her teats. She sucks in a breath as she looks down at her body to see what his magic has done to her and notices bright red marks scattered across her breasts. They look alien to her. Then again, they sort of are. She never spent much time inspecting her undressed form in the human world.

Sombra smiles darkly, watching her face. “Now do you see why I’m so fascinated with your tits?”

Weakly, she looks back up at him. She doesn’t want to admit to anything. His eyes glow brighter, and the urge hits her. This time she’s aware of his magical compulsion and tries to fight it, but it’s no use. She has to speak.

Her mouth opens, eager to betray her thoughts, “Yes! I get it. Teats feel weird! Teats feel weird…”

Sombra’s smile wavers. “No… what? Just call them tits. I don’t know what you think you are, but right now you’re in a human body. You have tits, not teats. Understand?”

She doesn’t want him to force her to speak again. “Tits. They are tits.” The word feels dirty somehow, and she knows it’s not the right way to talk about them, but doesn’t care in the moment. Whatever they are, they’re still tingling.

Sombra grabs her chin, forcing her to look at him. His eyes seem fierce and then they relax as though he’s made some decision.

“There’s many ways I can break you. I’ll let you pick from two. I can make you beg me for your own pleasure, or I can make you beg me to stop your ecstasy. I’ll enjoy it either way. Which do you prefer, Princess?”

She shivers. Twilight’s eyes focus on her tea… tits as she thinks. She’s already asked to be set free. She’s already asked him to stop. She knows he means something else entirely, but she can’t think straight right now. Worse, the implication isn’t something she actually understands. It’s all something sexual in some way, she’s sure. The strange burning is still there. Is he still using his magic on her? His touch is too hot. She’s too hot. She’s too confused right now. Too afraid. She needs everything to stop.

Silence hangs in the air for a moment until Sombra forces her to look at him again. He seems smokey again, and his voice surrounds her as it invades all her senses. “Give me your answer, Princess.”

His eyes glow. She just want’s him “To stop! Stop!”

A dark cloud hangs over him for a second and then he smiles. Twilight sucks in her breath. In her rattled state, she truly doesn’t know what either choice was, but it feels like this was the wrong one. She looks at him, and reminds herself that she’s only got to last thirty moons.

It’s not looking practical th…

No. She can do this.

Sombra doesn’t say anything, but goes to the shelf on the wall. He rummages through some things, grabbing a few items. Twilight waits, collecting air in her lungs and making herself calm down. She forces the errant thoughts of his rough handling of her body away as well. Whatever he’s doing, it wont be worse than the weird kissing thing he just did. Maybe.

When he returns, it’s with an armful of objects that he sets down on a nearby bench.

“Lets start with the clips. Hold still, these hurt like a bitch.” He smiles serenely as he reaches into the pile and pulls out what look like angry clothesline clips.

They’re metal. They seem to have power sources; small cylinders attached to the back. The teeth look sharp and twisted. Twilight fidgets, but she can’t escape. He unceremoniously clips one to her nipple.

…

…

…

The white fades, and she screams.