The lone dog

by Leonedavis

Rating: mature
Tags: Sex, Profanity, Non-consensual, Violence, Diamond Dogs, Original Character, Porn, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 3200

Svarok, an exiled Diamond dog "explores" Equestria and its residents, exploiting their weakness and kindness

Svarok, an exiled Diamond dog "explores" Equestria and its residents, exploiting their weakness and kindness

First time writing that kind of story :scootangel: contains: sexual assault , non-consensual and manipulation

Maybe I'll make a sequel.

Published 2025-02-02 17:40:00 UTC
Last updated 2025-02-02 17:40:00 UTC

1 Aurelia

I raised my muzzle, sniffing the air. The acrid blend of smoke and pine resin tickled my nostrils. A campfire was nearby. My black fur, stripped of all adornments, likely concealed me within the dense darkness of the woods. My worn claws and dulled fangs were now my only weapons. Perhaps I would find a victim to rob… or, failing that, a trail to follow.

I had been exiled. My armor and gemstones have been torn away. But it didn’t matter. I, Savarok, have been exiled and destined to wander far from the shimmering tunnels of my birth. I would survive. Not only that, but I would thrive. And one day, I would reclaim what was rightfully mine.

These thoughts made my tail twitch, betraying a dangerous excitement. I needed to calm myself. Even the slightest sound could give me away. Taking a deep breath, I suppressed the urge and resumed my path, drawn by the intriguing scent wafting through the air.

The faint glow of the campfire began to pierce through the trees. Narrowing my eyes, I stopped to focus on the sounds emanating from the area, careful to avoid letting the gleam of my pupils betray my position in the darkness.

Only the crackle of flames reached my ears. No movement. No voices. Everything seemed calm. But stillness is often a ruse. Digging a tunnel, my habit from before, would have been too noisy and too risky on this wooded ground.

Flattening myself to the earth, belly pressed to the soil, I slinked forward like a living shadow. Slowly, my claws touched the soft ground, every movement deliberate. The wind blew in my direction, carrying crucial information. The smell of soot… and fur.

A subtle fragrance mingled with the smoke: a hint of lavender. Unnatural. I had encountered such scents on captured ponies before, still clinging to their trembling coats steeped in fear. My lips curled back, revealing my teeth in a feral grin.

A loner, I deduced from the scent trail. A land-bound or a winged one would be easy prey. But if it were a horned one… that would complicate matters. Those accursed manipulators of magic were unpredictable. Prudence was essential.

Crawling closer, until I could see the flickering light of the fire through the trunks and undergrowth, I crept forward, my heart beating in rhythm with the crackling flames. There, within the shadows, the outline of the camp emerged: a tent, a bedroll… and a single visible figure.

A mare.
Her pale beige coat and deep brown mane shimmered faintly in the firelight. Her head rested on a cushion, her face peaceful, relaxed. She wasn’t a unicorn. My eyes roved over her form, noting her vulnerable posture. A sweet temptation… but far more than that. The perfect prey.
A sudden crack beneath my paw froze me. A branch. I cursed silently. Her ear twitched, but she didn’t stir. Slowly, I exhaled, melding back into the darkness once again.

A few meters away, I spotted a taut rope encircling the campsite. A rudimentary alarm. Not so naive, this mare. A smile played across my lips. A poorly designed alarm could become a weapon in skilled claws. Carefully, I skirted the rope until I found a point where I could untie it without alerting my prey.

The lavender scent grew stronger, sweet and cloying. I looked more attentively up at the mare, her wings folded under the sleeping bag. My teeth parted in a grin a Pegasus. The rope, now coiled around my paw, would be useful. Very useful.

I advanced further, smothering the flames with soil until the camp was plunged into comforting darkness. My claws worked methodically to fashion a noose, my movements precise and silent. Each breath the mare took seemed to echo in the air. Her tranquility would be shattered. Soon.

With a swift motion, I looped the rope around her neck. Her eyes flew open, wide with terror. Her wings unfurled in a furious flap restrained by her own sleeping bag, and it was too late. I tightened the cord, stifling any cry before it could escape her lips.

Her eyes, bright and fearful, searched frantically in the darkness, trying to understand. A desperate struggle ensued. Her wings shot out from beneath the blanket, flapping with wild frenzy, but to no avail in the confined space. She thrashed, her hooves kicking beneath the covers, her entire body resisting with every fiber of its being.

I held firm, keeping the rope taut with calculated precision. Not too tight—just enough to cut off her air without causing irreparable harm. I wanted her to feel the despair, to understand there was no escape. Her movements grew increasingly erratic, her strength waning as the breath drained from her lungs. At last, she fell nearly still, panting, her wide eyes fixed on the void.

I crouched slightly, letting my gaze lock onto hers, waiting for her to see the cold glint of my pupils in the shadow. Her gaze, gasping and trembling, reflected a blend of terror and silent questioning. The battle between fear and a sliver of hope. It was almost laughable. But I felt neither pity nor compassion. She was merely prey, and she was already caught.

With a slow motion, I slackened the rope slightly. She inhaled a ragged gulp of air, but it was a fleeting reprieve. The moment she tried to talk, the rope tightened again. Every spasm of her body, every muffled vibration of protest, confirmed that I had the upper hand. Her strangle sobs was, a quiet symphony accompanying my control.

I let the silence stretch, dense and heavy, playing with the tension. Each second seemed to stretch endlessly, and I could almost sense the frantic workings of her mind, struggling to anticipate my intentions, caught between panic and cruel hope.

Every attempt to produce a sound ended the same way: a light but firm tug of the rope. The knots slid against her neck, turning her words and cries into stifled gurgles. Her eyes, already wide with fear, gained a pleading sheen, but I didn’t linger on it. She would find no mercy in my gaze.

A heady sensation coursed through me. Feeling her so close, so vulnerable, so utterly powerless was intoxicating. Every spasm, every desperate wing beat against the bedroll, every nervous tremor… It was a dance, and I alone set the tempo. Her strength waned, her movements growing hesitant, almost mechanical, as she fought against the inevitable.

“Shhh…” I rasped softly, my rough voice sliding into the darkness like a whispered threat. The sound made her jolt, her gaze locking onto mine, captive. They were filled with pure terror, and yet, already, resignation was beginning to bloom. She knew there was nothing she could do.

As she opens her mouth to speak I pulled the rope slightly, silencing her attempts to speak. I savored every moment, playing with the precarious balance between control and oppression. With each movement, I tightened my grip, and every choked-off cry reached me as further proof of my dominance.

When lack of oxygen prevents her from continuing to struggle , I seized the rope with my teeth, severing it with a precise motion. The remaining length was more than enough to keep her under my control. I reached out a paw, grasping her silky mane firmly. Slowly, I pulled her from the bedroll, forcing her to collapse again the floor. Her body trembled, her hooves sliding clumsily on the cold, uneven ground as she tried to gain some balance.

With meticulous care, I bound her wings against her sides, pressing their softness against her tense body. Her eyes reflected near-absolute despair, as silent tears continue to streaming down her cheeks.

I barely loosened the rope, smirking at her as my fangs glinting under the moonlight, curious to hear what she had to say. Her lips trembled before a fragile whisper escaped: “Mercy.”
A smile spread across my lips. I tightened the rope slightly, cutting off her breath before she could say more. Leaning closer, I let my breath brush her ear,. “Do you know what I am?” My voice was a cold whisper before biting her ears with enough strong to taste her blood.

Her weak but desperate struggles to escape the pain were clear. I loosened the ropes, my fangs withdrawing as I studied her face.

Air, thin and desperate, filled her lungs. Her lips, tight with fear, barely managed the word, a whisper of terror. "A… diamond dog…"

A low, rumbling laugh escaped me. Her comprehension was a twisted delight. The fear that bloomed in her eyes was the perfect fuel. I brushed my tongue against her cheek, a disturbing caress. "Amusing," I murmured, a thin veil of gentleness. The silence stretched, heavy with tension, as I toyed with her distress. "Relax," I murmured, a hint of threat in my voice, "you might avoid the mines... if you cooperate."

A fleeting spark of hope flickered in her eyes. I'd sown the seed of deception; a lie that would, I knew, make her more malleable. She strained for breath, each gasp a desperate act against the encroaching dread, then whispered, her voice barely audible, "What do you want from me?"

Her question hung in the air, heavy with the unspoken weight of her fear and a fragile hope. I inclined my head, my gaze locked on hers, as unyielding as the night itself. My claws brushed gently across her mane, a deceptive caress that was more a threat than a gesture of kindness.

"You see," I murmured, my voice a low, hypnotic rumble, a touch of sarcasm coloring my words, "I feel... lonely."

Her breath hitched at my words, and in the depths of her wide, reflective eyes, a flicker of doubt flickered. A fragile hope, or a cruel deception? Her trembling lips hovered, poised to speak, but remained silent. I relished the silence, the tension, the fear subtly lacing her uncertainty.

My paw brushed against her mane, the warmth of her fur a stark contrast to my cold presence. "Loneliness," I murmured, a hint of sorrow in my voice, "is a dreadful thing. Don't you think?" My claws brushed lightly against her neck, a silent reminder of the power I held.

"Ponies are kind, aren't they?" I purred, my voice a hypnotic low rumble. Each caress of my paw was deliberate, calculated, a twisting parody of comfort. Her shivers, a clear signal of her fear, only served to deepen my amusement.

I leaned closer, my breath ghosting over her fur. My tongue, a dangerous instrument, traced a slow, deliberate path towards her cheek. The flicker of her pulse beneath my paw quickened.

She flinched, but the rope held her, her movements confined to a frantic tilt of her head. Her wide eyes, reflecting a desperate plea, sought mine. I met them with indifference.

"You pony," I purred, my voice dripping with false sweetness, "you're all so... generous. So eager to give." My tongue brushed her cheek, a slow, deliberate act of intimidation. The taste of fear, salt, and sweat filled my mouth, amplifying my amusement.

"Tell me," I whispered, my paw pressing slightly firmer against her neck, "how far does that kindness extend?" Her eyes darted, searching for a way out, but I held her fast, tightening the rope, my touch a cruel reminder of her vulnerability.

"I just want to taste your kindness, little pony," I murmured, a dark amusement coloring my tone. "Only for the night…" My paw slid slowly down her neck, a caress that was more a taunt than comfort. Each touch, each word, a deliberate attempt to control her fear, to push her further into my grasp.

I waited, the words hanging heavy, pregnant with unspoken demands. "Can you give it to me? I don't want to force your hoof, but…"

Her breath hitched, but she remained silent, her body trembling under my touch. She understood. She understood the game, and the inevitable outcome. "Tell yourself this is a bad dream," I whispered, "Tomorrow, I will be gone."

She looked up at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of reluctant surrender and unspoken tears. Her shoulders sagged, the fight leaving her. "I can," she whispered, her voice barely audible. I smiled, a predatory gleam in the darkness. She believed this would end soon.

Slowly, I traced the curve of her jaw. "Relax," I whispered, weaving a false promise into the tapestry of deception. Her fear and compliance were intoxicating, a dangerous allure that made each moment more thrilling. "What's your name, my dear?" I asked, my voice a soft, seductive murmur, as if asking a casual question while my lips drew near.

She hesitated, her breath shallow, her pulse quickening against my touch. A heavy silence descended, thick with the unspoken anxieties of the moment. I lingered in the pause, relishing the uncertainty in her eyes, the tremor in her jaw.

"Tell me," I urged, my breath now warm against her fur as I leaned closer, my lips hovering near hers. "I want to know everything about you."

Her lips parted, but no words formed. Her body tightened, a mixture of fear and resignation coursing through her. She understood, perhaps, that the answer was secondary. But I sought more—the whispered knowledge of her name, the exquisite sensation of her submission and my dominance, a far more potent currency than mere words.

She looked down, whispering, "Aurelia."

"Aurelia," I repeated, my voice a low, hypnotic tone. Before she could react, I lifted her chin, my touch a calculated mix of control and seduction. Her eyes met mine, brief but intense, before I moved in.

The kiss was slow, almost hypnotic, leaving no room for doubt. I pressed closer, my body a statement of power. My tongue explored the seam of her lips, encouraging her submission, and as they parted, I deepened the kiss. One paw moved to her flank, a subtle reminder of the power imbalance.

She pushed me away, her hooves pressing against my chest. I broke the kiss, a fleeting look of understanding on my face. "You're a good kisser, Aurelia," I murmured, my paws continuing their touch.

Her ears drooped. "Please... just get over with me," she pleaded, her voice barely audible.

I smiled, a predatory amusement in my eyes. "I just don't want to hurt you, Aurelia," I said, the words laced with a hint of false concern as I gently touched the base of her tail. "But if this is what you want..."

Her breathing hitched, her body stiffening. I felt the frantic thrum of her heart, the fear radiating from her. The knowledge fueled a dark satisfaction, warming me from within.

"Don't struggle," I whispered, the words a low command. A shudder ran through her, her ears flattening.

I slowly pressed my paw deeper into her flank, against her sensitive area, my touch calculated and deliberate. "Shhh, be a good mare."

A soft whine escaped her, her body rigid. My paw, slick with her fluids, moved further in. A shiver passed through her, her muscles contracting tightly around my touch.

"Oh, so eager already..." I murmured, my breath warm against her fur. My touch, slow and deliberate, was designed to heighten her vulnerability.

I began a slow, deliberate movement, each touch a subtle pressure point. Her whimpers grew more frequent, her body growing rigid.

"You're ready for more, aren't you?" My arousal was a tangible presence.

She looked up at me, her eyes pleading, fear palpable. Her muzzle parted, a choked sob escaping her.

"I'll take that as a yes," I purred, a mocking note in my voice. "Lay on your back, my dear Aurelia."

With a decisive motion, I turned her onto her back, her shoulders pressed against the cold ground. Her hooves thrashed, her wings struggling against their bindings.

I leaned down, my gaze locking onto hers. The dying firelight glinted in her tear-filled eyes. Her breaths were shallow, ragged. As I positioned myself, I held her muzzle, my lips sinking into a brutal kiss.

The pressure against her lips was a calculated, demanding weight. I wanted her to feel the complete control I held, the inescapable nature of her submission. She shuddered, her wings straining uselessly, and the sight heightened my own control.

My hips moved forward, and I entered her in a single, forceful thrust, feeling tearing apart is I do. Her cry was muted by my kiss, a broken sound that only amplified the power imbalance. It was exhilarating, the knowledge of her powerlessness fueling my own dark satisfaction.

I began to move, each thrust a measured, deliberate punishment. I felt the tremors, the tightness of her body around me. I broke the kiss, briefly tasting the salt of her fear.

Her whimpers grew louder, her eyes squeezed shut, her body a rigid tension. The sound, a mixture of pain and pleasure. My movements intensified, the rhythmic slap of flesh echoing through the stillness of the forest.

I whispered, "You're so good, Aurelia." "I think I'm in love." My words were a calculated caress, meant to further her submission. A barely audible whine escaped her, her ears flattened. She looked up at me, her eyes wide and desperate, her cheeks flushed. The sight was hypnotic. "Please," she whimpered, her voice a fragile plea.

"What is it, Aurelia?"

"No… no more," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Oh, come on, my dear," I urged, my voice smooth, pushing deeper.

Her head tossed, her eyes mirroring the raw desperation, the wild hope that this was all a nightmare.

"I think you can take it," I whispered, a calculated cruelty in my tone, pulling the makeshift leash taut as I forced myself further within her.

Her inner walls tightened, a rigid resistance against the intrusion. The sensation was intoxicating, a surge of pleasure that coursed through me as I experienced her desperation.

A low groan escaped me as I reached the brink,She shuddered, her body contorting against me, her wings useless against their restraints. The sight stoked my desire. I could feel the frantic beat of her heart beneath my teeth, the ragged breaths a desperate echo of my own pleasure. It was intoxicating, a dance of power.

I thrust deep, pushing her further into the depths of my control, until the sensation reached its peak. My seed erupted within her, a silent explosion of satisfaction.

I remained on top, holding her still, the world reduced to the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. The weight of her surrender was a heavy, satisfying burden.

Slowly, I withdrew, my member slick with our fluids. "You see, you ended up liking it. I hope to see you again, my dear Aurelia," I murmured, taking her belongings and leaving her behind.

An hour passed, the miles stretching between me and the scene of my conquest. The scent of lavender and fear had faded, replaced by the crisp morning air. The rising sun painted the forest in a new light. I moved swiftly, determined to leave no trace of my presence.

Author's Note

I'm going to take a shower and burn my clothes 😅