Previous thread: >>26000675
>What is this thread about?
Pretty much this thread is about anon owning a pony as a slave. He can do whatever he wishes, be it white-knight or an abusing master.
If you're going to be writing some green, please tripfag yourself. It will be easier to keep track of your story.
>Don't know what is a tripfag and how to be one?
Check out: http://4changboard.wikia.com/wiki/Tripfags
>Want to write your own story but you're new to it?
Check out these guides:
Info about thread maintenance + thread template: http://pastebin.com/ny0npNFS
ALL Stories: http://pastebin.com/cqLCYveb
COMPLETE Stories: http://pastebin.com/82rCVh4j
WIP Stories: http://pastebin.com/mfmaWQDc
HIATUS Stories (inactive for 2+ weeks): http://pastebin.com/QgTRi8d0
For You, Friends (Twilight) by Vadkram -- WIP
Changing lifestyle (Changeling) by Fireking -- WIP
Recovery (OC) by Klaifferon -- WIP
Blind Anon (Fluttershy) by JohnColt -- WIP
Fire and Sky (Spitfire) by Lurkernon -- WIP
Anon Buys an Applehorse (Applejack) Strumstar Hammer -- WIP
A deal is a deal (Applebloom) by twiligh/tg/ame_night -- WIP
I know I'll probably never get it
but I wish we would get a m/m story
I mean you can
I would like anything you wrote probably, I just have a mighty strong cocklust
>It was bitter cold in January. Wind swept in from the Mountains and cascades through the helpless town, pelting the narrow roads with flurries
>You wander out from the bar. There's an amber bottle hanging loosely from your fingers and fire in your gut. You cast a hateful glance back at "Tilted's" doors, cursing every one of those good for nothing fuck-
>What the fuck was that?
>Something is moving under the shadows across the dead street where the fluorescent sting of modern living hadn't yet poisoned. Wild, savage night.
>You stumble across the street, the bottle slips out of your hand and explodes in the middle of the street, spilling a half drained beer. The shape stops moving and peers out at you. It then moves a little faster than before, but with a haggard gait. A limp.
>Warmth clouds your mind. Your limbs feel rusted and ready to shed their winter skin. You take off after the shape, easily catching up to it and throwing your body into the shadow
>You land on something soft and yelping. "GOTCHA FUCKER", you have no idea what you've "got", but it's certainly not too happy
>"Get OFF me!" It yells. You stand up and stumble backwards, eyes adjusting to the darkness. The shape of a small horse. A pony! A PONY!
>You'd seen all the well-to-do's with their very own "domesticated pet ponies" around town or in shops you couldn't afford to shop in. Even your brother had one! And now-
>The horse that you'd jumped isn't a female at all, much to your chargin, but a male, with a rather nasty scar across it's hind leg. He was shaking. "What do you want from me?"
>"You a stray?" You slur at him.
>"I'm a free colt, and I wont let you, or anyone else change that." He crouches low and glares daggers at you. From what you can tell, he's incredibly thin, skin pulled taut across his very visible bones. A pair of wings, pathetic and immobile, are quivering at his sides.
>What to do next?
Want s'more anon? How is it?
>"S-So back off, mister!" He stammers at you.
"And where are you going to go? Out into the woods? You don't look like you'll make it to the end of this street."
>Tears are budding in his eyes. He knows you're right. How long has it been since he's eaten? Almost a week? Slinking through back allies and fighting animals for scraps, chased, screamed at. If it wasn't tonight, he'd be dead tomorrow morning and crow-feed by evening.
>"Let me die alone then. Jus- Just leave me alone!"
>You squat down, eventually settling for falling over against a cold brick wall.
"You want something to eat?" you ask, thinking of your own stomach as well. A McDonalds shone brightly down the street looking to an a hungry drunk like a neon-gold crucifix. Your savior was not a block away.
>He doesn't respond. He just watches you warily, legs trembling.
"Hey retard..." you wonder why you've never been popular with women. "I said 'ARE YOU HUNGRY?'"
>His stomach growls in response, face burning bright red.
You chuckle into the empty sky. "Fucking wonderful. Alright, here's how it goes: Walk with me down to McDonalds, I'll get you something to eat. In return, you just gotta PRETEND to be mine. Sound like a plan, Stan?"
>"My name is Soarin'" He corrects you. "If you promise to buy me food..." He squeaks at you, head low.
>Splendid! The two of you were off down the street. You drunkenly clutch him by the hoof and drag him forward despite his vocal protests
"Alright..." you stop at the front doors, letting the world slow down and stop spinning. "So's a slave needs to hold the door for his master, I've seen my brother's do it."
>Soarin's face twists into a scowl. "I'm not your slave!"
"And if you want food, I think you shall call me...." you pause for a moment and think. Thoughts load in your head like dialup porn. "Sir. Sir is how you talk to me."
>He looks inside and then back to you.
>He pushes open the door. "After you sir..." he whispers
You still lurkin?
Have always faith in the White Knights, they will not be disappointed
>McDonalds at night is an unsettling place. Something about the distant and emotionless rock music playing over the speakers, or the dead-eyed cashier make your blood go cold. Soarin is at your heels, nervously glancing around. He's trembling all over.
>"HEY!" The cashier shouts at you. You spin and Soarin yelps.
>"That thing can't be in here without a leash," a very greasy teenager informs you.
"So sorry ma'm, just figured it was late enough to where the rules might be a little more lax."
>A grunt and crossed arms silence your earnest reasoning.
You clear your throat. "Soarin ya little retard, wouldja mind stepping outside?" You give him a gruff kick in the side. He saunters forward and collapses face first into the dirty tile.
>Fresh tears already stain his face, he looks up at you with pleading eyes before limping out the door. Now that was settled...."
>You find your companion slumped against the back of the McDonalds, eyes squeezed shut. He was barely breathing.
"Soarrrrinnnnnn" you wave a pungent and greasy bag under his nose. "Got somethin for ya...." You dig your hand into the bag and perform a back alley abortion, your prize being one singular french fry, crisped and salted to grizzly perfection.
>His eyelids struggle open. "Wha..?" he mumbles. You toss the french fry at him. It plonks off his nose and lands in his lap. It takes a moment but his eyes thrust open. "FOOD!" He cries. Before you can even blink his face is pressed into the frigid concrete and he's noisily crunching his scraps. In amusement you throw a few more at him, which he quickly laps up as well. He stops and looks up at you, nearly crying. "I thought-"
"I thought we had a deal," You smirk and yank another golden thread from the bag and hold it to him. "Now what do we say when kind men bring us food?" You tease.
>His face turns red and he shields himself by staring at the ground. "Thank you..." He mutters.
"Thank you what?"
>"T-Thank you, s-sir."
I like where this is going
Yes. It fits SiM more closely than this general, but it brings the other stories into perspective.
We need villains to make our heroes really shine. If everything is kittens and rainbows, we can't appreciate what the slavepones have been through.
Same with this story. Your Anon is a dick.
Then I shall keep going
>You eat in silence, occasionally remembering to throw a fry or two out of the bag and at his feet. The sun was rising, bleeding orange light into a black sky. Soon you've finished with your meal, Soarin only stares into the sunset, having eaten the last of the french fries and the pickles from your sandwich.
>"Why'd you do this for me?" He asks
"Drunk I suppose." You shrug. "Don't get all flattered, you're one ugly pony."
>"I'm a COLT!" He corrects you.
"Sure you are..." you snigger under your breath. "Hey mister Colt, am I just leaving you here?"
>"What are you talking about?" .
"What I'm saying is, you know what happens to stray ponies right?", you mock him. "They put 'em to sleep."
>Soarin's eyes go wide. "You're lying." "-Thought they just didn't want to see me anymore after what I did" He whispers
"Probably not." You declare. "Whatever it was, I'm sure you're alone for a reason." He doesn't respond.
"But I can offer you a way out." You weren't sure if you were still drunk or not. "I need someone to clean my apartment, take care of some house-hold duties for me, you know, a woman's touch."
>"I'm a COLT god-damnit! And I'm no maid! Nobodies maid! I'm free, you hear me? MY OWN MAN"
"Well 'Man', have it your way. I should have called animal control anyway, told 'em we had a mouthy stray, doubt you can out-run 'em now." You pull yourself up, reaching for your cellphone.
>"You wouldn't dare..." he challenges you, not believing in his own threats
"Just watch me," you pull the phone to your lips and hear someone sleepily open up on the other end of the line. You feel small hooves beating weakly at your leg, you dismiss Soarin by angrily belting him in the stomach.
'yes, animal control?' You look down at Soarin, he stares in bewilderment. A lifetime of hardship ends like this?
>"HOLD IT!" He cries. "I-"
You pull the phone from your cheeks, waiting for his answer.
>"I'll do it."
A smile spreads across your lips
CAN YOU REPEAT THE QUESTION?
Yes write more, but rework he story so it actually makes a bit of sense. Like give Anon an actual character and reason for the heelturn and have AJ act like her actual character instead of [generic resisting abused pony thoughts]
>Yes write more, but rework he story so it actually makes a bit of sense. Like give Anon an actual character and reason for the heelturn and have AJ act like her actual character instead of [generic resisting abused pony thoughts]
This, for the love of god THIS. Fix it and give us some decent badguy Anon.
It's the only reason I lurk in this thread desu senpai
You should have just repost it. too many people reading it that may miss it.
I hope everything turns alright for the little fella.
He needs a maid uniform, though.
>The streets begin to fill with life again, people braving the cold Except for you, who wears a simple jacket and jeans.
"Better hurry up!" You call behind you. Soarin limps after you, warily glancing at the pedestrians. His head remains low until he can catch up to you. "Don't want people thinking you're not mine, right? That you're a stray. Keep up." You continue at your pace until you finally reach your apartment, keys jingling. Soarin arrives, breathless
>"This is where you live?" He remarks as the door creaks open. You throw on some lights. A wasteland of trash and fast food wrappers stretch out before him. The curtains hadn't budged for almost three weeks and the dishes piled in the sink were beginning to become self aware.
"This is where WE live now" You correct him. "Now, down to business." you shut the door and shuck your coat, throwing it on top of him. "I think first thing that needs doing is the dishes. God it's been so long since I've done 'em" You bend over and try to pick up Soarin. Though he stands roughly at groin level to you, he's lighter than you expect.
>"Woah hold up!" He protests, his legs kicking
>You hoist him up onto the kitchen counter and place him in front of your sink. His hooves awkwardly scramble on the dirty tile, unable find safe footing.
>"Are you crazy!? P-Put me down!" He yells at you.
"Probably." You inform him. "I expect those dishes done. Don't think you ought to do much jumping right now, might break something." You tell him. You give him a commanding swat on his flank. He yelps and jolts forward, nearly losing his meager purchase on your thin counter.
>"Where the hell do you think you're going?! You can't just leave me up here!" He cries, but you're already buried in the fridge, retrieving a carton of milk.
"Sure I can," you set out a clean bowl and pour some into it, taking a sip. Sour and rotten, you spew your mouthful out at him, showering him in months old milk. "Oh god that's gone bad. Christ in heaven."
IM BACK AN HOUR EARLY, my managers love me
Totally get it, In a way, I sorta tried to interpet it as Anon knowing he's getting all this praise for his sniping, and simply referred himself as one in the people's perspective. Not sure if there's a formal name for something like that
That would be pretty ironic, not a bad idea. Anon's actions lead waves of more humans to equestria
My biggest fear in any interpetation of equestria is it going through the industrial age, it would destroy their paradise
You. I-im not crying, honest.
liquid pride joke
honestly, that's super cool of you, never thought someone would ever say that
Yeah, I do feel like I went overboard with that, but honestly the dentist part was rather rushed and filler, probably shouldn't have even put it in the story at all.
Anon had the medals to remind himself because he constantly beat himself up, he hid them from twi at the start, twi would have probably killed him there, i guess
Alright! lets check this poll now shall we?
You guys are motherfuckers.
I only put him in the poll because im sure someone would say 'what about spike' and others would insert le dorky slave meme. which i find funny. It was added literally before i left to work. I love all y'all and i hate it
Sigh.. I guess im writing spike in here
honestly i swear. pic related
AND WHOEVER POSTED https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YzmCkfTstUY
I AM STILL LISTENING TO IT AND I HATE YOU
Youve captured my love for meloncholy accordions
I don't think ill post another update tonight, im beat from work and i want to play Mount and blade or Insurgency. Ill still lurk and comment and stuff but im a 19 year old fag who works for nothing and never goes outside except to run. how do i into happy?
And more Ling green, you mad machine
"You can drink this, AFTER you get those dishes done."
>"I'm not drinking rotten milk." He scowls at you. You've had just about enough of this. Your head was pounding and your ears were ringing, something rotten stewed in your gut. You gabbed him by the ear and twisted hard until his head screwed sideways and he yelled.
"You will DRINK what you are given, understand me?"
>His eyes squeeze shut. "Y-YES!"
"Yes what?" You twist harder and he yelps.
You release your grip and stomp off to the couch, clearing a pile of trash onto the floor. Red fades from your vision. "And when you're done, clean this shit up too." You don't win a response from the newly anointed kitchen staff, but you're sure it registered as the sound of scrubbing begins to fill the silent void between you two.
>You spend an hour on your phone reading about pony slavery. The laws are very clear: Because ponies are sentient and intelligent, free ponies are illegal. They must be leashed and collared on public and very obedient. failure to comply will result in stiff fines and the possible termination of your slave.
"Hey Soarin, do a good job and I'll let you pick out your collar!" you tease him.
>"My what?" the sound of scrubbing stops.
"Ahhh nothin" you chuckle to yourself. You'll probably just pick something for him. "Keeeeeep goin."
Want me to continue? I'll brb
>I love all y'all and i hate it
He! think of us as friends who bother you and encourage you all the time.
funny picture, Crisis in infinite Twiligths?
I am surprised that the ponies would not use the mirror pond to clone soldiers and continue the struggle, perhaps even double the princesses and mane 6 as insurance in case of death or capture
>you're a 5-bit whore at Anon's farm
>you mean... Master's farm
>you've given up on everything
>at least until you've got the money to take home
>you'll just pick up the pieces later... that's all
>the barn door opens as it does every morning
>a brief respite of fresh air and sunlight
>Anon is carrying your bucket of food
>and another one as well, steam coming off the top
"Good mornin', Applejack~"
>he won't stop calling you that... the asshole
>but you stay quiet and watch him with calm obedience as he whistles his way over to you
>he sets the other bucket down with a 'slosh'
"I've got a surprise for you."
>Master gives you a brief smile...
>Suddenly, the bucket rattles
>There's only time to shut your eyes
>A wave of hot water pours over you, from your head, down your back
>Not scalding hot
>But it melts away the chill right down to your bones
>You're right and truly confused...
"Didn't think you'd get a hot bath? I told you, call me Master. A deal is a deal... right Applejack?
>You don't open your eyes
>All you can think about right now is how damn pleasing that water is...
>Your body starts to steam off, as Master gets the towel to start drying you off
"But that's not the surprise. You've made 250 bits. You're halfway there, and you've been acting up less, so... I'm going to give you-"
>He cuts short, the towel stops.
>'Oh gosh, what did I do now?'
"Applejack, what happened to your eye?"
>Your eye? Oh yeah. You wince a little as he mentions it, feeling the pain again.
"Oh uhh... One'a the fellas got a little rowdy last night. Think he was a bit drunk... he just socked me one, soon as he got in."
>Everything is quiet for an uncomfortable amount of time
>Master just stares at your black-eye, with a glare that could cut iron
"The drunk? The light-coat with brown hair?
>Usually, Master is good at composing himself and hiding his emotions
>But right now...
>He's cold as death, his fist clenched around the towel
it takes time to get good. looks like you have the ideas but not the formula. I'd read over some other greens and get some help to learn yourself how to be better
that and these stories that are more of the masters being assholes just seem off, your anon doesn't seem like a genuine prick, more of a dude fucking around with a pony he found
as long as he's only a mean drunk. I don't mind too much. It is only a stallion and not a mare after all.
image not related
Okay, I lied. No more green from me tonight.
There's a proper stopping point for this bit, and I'm not there yet. It'll just have to wait until tomorrow.
If anyone missed today's green, it's here: >>26031473
I'll update the pastebin tomorrow.
>He passes a hand over the damp fur of your legs
>splitting the fur, noticing the bruises from when they'd tied you up with your own leash, too
>Master just kneels there and thinks quietly to himself for a moment
>then grabs your leash... taking you off the bolt
>What is he doing?
>You haven't been free for weeks...
>You could run...
>You'll earn money some other way...
>but Master's stern voice jerks your mind back
"Come with me. Today is your day off, because... you've been a good mare."
>That's the last thing Master said before bringing you to his small cottage across the fields
>He then disappeared down the road, promising he'd be back tonight.
>The fence-gates were closed and signs were put up to keep would-be patrons away
>of course... a gate wouldn't stop you.
>You could be gone, too. All of this would be over...
>No Jack. How are you going to explain the brand?
>How could you betray him now?
>The hot bath... the day off. Freedom.
>'You've been a good mare.'
>Naw... he hit you, too, Applejack.
>He's a scum-bag... you were all wrong about him.
>But Jack, he only hit you because you misbehaved
>You slam your hoof into a stone on the ground, shattering it completely
"Damn it all! What's gotten into me? Why did I ever go along with this?"
>You're lost in an angry, confused daze
>Then you notice a note that's been nailed to the door of Master's cottage
250 bits are in a bag on the kitchen table. There's food, eat it. Take a real bath, with soap. Nap on the couch if you want. Run if you want. I won't come after you.
But remember what you said. You'd do anything. Well I'm willing to renegotiate some of our terms. You're a mare of your word, aren't you?
Start by making me dinner when I get home from the market.
>It must have been written earlier.
>Somethin' tells you, he's not headed for the market right now.
Some of its stylistic stuff for the "greentext format". Some of it, I assume, is you probably haven't done any creative writing in years, and it can take a little bit of time to shake off the rust that comes with that. Keep it up.
Indeed. Greentext definitely has a different pace and feel than prose, and it can take some time to really make use of the look and flow.
I use it as a break from technical writing, and I think its kind of a neat medium between technical shit and fully creative prose
It's a lot harder for me, as my prose is almost completely opposite of green text. I'm still an amateur though, but I thought I'd try and challenge myself. So, yeah. Thank you for the kindness
>I AM STILL LISTENING TO IT AND I HATE YOU
it is pretty catchy
I was digging it, keep going I say
don't expect a ton of praise around here if you're writing m/m
even when there was a gay containment thread people wanted us to fuck off
>Maybe you were wrong about him.
>But an honest mare lives with the consequences of her actions.
>You opened your heart, it clouded your judgement.
>A girl like you can't be doin' that... but you did.
>So you'll give up your pride for now, hang up the ol' hat
>Because the real shame would be not owning your mistakes.
>Cheating this deal.
>And besides, Anon- er, Master, isn't so cruel...
>You resign yourself and open the cottage door.
>It's so warm...
>Master already has the fireplace goin'
>Half a pot of coffee is at the counter, the air has a pleasant shade of it
>He must've drank some, but it's still piping hot on the burner.
>The money... is on the table, just like he said.
>Your thoughts immediately go to Apple Bloom
>Her smiling face fills you with even more warmth... and a tinge of that shame
>Your hat and hair-ties are sitting on the couch
>But you don't really feel like fussing with it
>Your mane and tail being loose helps you feel... different
>It flows and cascades across your body, gets in your face sometimes
>You feel more feminine, more like a mare... a good mare.
>You bite your lip, and try to fight that thought back.
>Then you have to fight the urge to fight it.
"I am... I am a good mare. Master. I'm a good mare, ain't I?"
>You speak out-loud, alone in the privacy of this cozy little place.
"Master. Master. Master~"
>Each time sayin' it, working on making it sound sultry, seductive, submissive
"Ah made dinner for you, Master."
>It might have made you feel sick a few days ago
>But today, here and now, in this place that feels so strangely like a home
>It just makes you feel so warm.
I haven't been saying much out of character here, but I just want to express my appreciation to everyone who's following and giving feedback.
SiM doesn't seem very active, so I don't know what to do. I'll continue here.
Playing as a woman to make things harder
Renown is like 615 and I need 700 if im to become Doge Graveth's next vassal
Sultanate shall fall
Swadia has been reduces to only 2 castles and 3 towns.
Swadia always seems to get wiped early, or at least fucked hard.
>middle of the map
>they always declare war with Rhodok, Nords, and Sultanate at the same time at the start
>before 3 months have passed more than half their shit is gone
>swear allegiance to Butter King
>help retake Dhirim, and by help I mean do all the work
>man I sure hope he doesn't give me Dhirim
>he gives me Dhirim
>never stop fighting cause we're always at war with at least 2 nations and they always go for Dhirim
Continuing from pastebin.
"So. This 'milk run' of yours, where's it going?"
> Breakfast had been had at a nearby restaurant today - nothing special, but it beat instant oatmeal by far.
> Having returned, you were now laying half-draped over a table, your right legs dangling from the edge and a pen clutched between your jaws for tapping at Anonymous' computer.
> Revelling in the comfortable feeling of a full breakfast steadily digesting.
> "Goin' to Richersville."
> Typing in the name, a frown forms on your lips as none of the results appearing show any sign of being remotely close.
"Where's that exactly?"
> "Sorry - uh, put in Vickersville."
> Anonymous moves to your side, a mug of cooling coffee clutched in one hand as he rubs at his eyes with the other.
> His early-morning misery draws a chuckle from your lips; considering you'd once woken regularly before Celestia's sun rose, this was downright luxurious.
> "Yeah. Sorry. Richersville caught on as a name for it ages ago."
> "The kind of people who live there. Bunch of rich assholes decided modern society was too sinful and immoral for them.
> Slumping into a nearby seat, Anonymous downs a hefty gulp of his awakening elixer.
> "So, they founded a nice little community well away from everything else where nothing could 'pollute' their lives. Kind of thing only money can pull off. So, Richersville."
> This time you don't bother to disguise the roll of your eyes.
> You'd seen those types before.
"So everything's too impure for them, but they're not averse to having you deliver stuff."
> "Not averse? Hell, there's a road into town. Utilities, too. They just like having everything flown to them, so nobody has to drive all the way out."
> "It is. But, words of wisdom from a friend of mine: Do not trifle in the affairs of rich idiots, for they are not subtle and quick to part with their money."
> There is a certain cynical logic in that, you can see.
> Glancing away from the screen, you peer down the length of the aircraft, where numerous well-cushioned boxes had been brought in by the ground crews and anchored into place.
"So, they pay you to fly all the way out there with... what?"
> "New things for them, mostly. Basic supplies can be brought in from nearer towns, but luxury stuff I have to bring in from further away."
"So, be careful on the landings."
> "Mmm-hmm. At least the strip is paved; they keep it nice and neat."
"They, or their slaves?"
> "Hah, hah. Come to think of it, I've never seen a pony out there, actually."
> That's... surprising.
> By the time you actually get off the ground and into the air, it's much later in the morning.
> Anonymous is no longer looking like he'd crawled from a shallow grave, which is rather reassuring when he pulls the yoke back and the wheels leave the ground.
> What the sun hadn't done, however, was remove the brisk chill from the air.
> Even with the cockpit's heaters on, you're acutely aware of the lingering iciness seemingly waiting to strike again - especially as you gain altitude.
> Anonymous definitely seems to be feeling it worse, however.
> He's bundled up in a jacked just the same as you are, but every few minutes you see him shift in his seat uncomfortably.
> Heh, maybe the heater had gone out on his side.
> That'd be funny, if the slave was the one who was actually warm for a -
> "...hey, Spitfire."
> "Can you hold the controls for a second?"
> ...wait, what?
> "Can you. Take the. Controls."
> That wasn't something you'd ever expected to come out of Anonymous'mouth.
> He actually wanted to put his plane - his livelihood and home - in your control?
"Are you crazy? I don't know how to-"
> "No - just, hold on to the controls and don't let them go anywhere. Keep us straight and leve. Can you do that?"
> With a fair amount of trepidation you reach out and grab the wheel.
> How were you supposed to do this?
> It'd been designed for something with fingers to hook around the edge; you, unfortunately, were stuck with hooves.
"I don't know. I wouldn't be able to control it very well, if something happened..."
> Looking over, you find that Anonymous is actually looking kind of pale and sweaty.
> Was he sick?
> If he was, you were in trouble.
> "Just - just hold it steady, okay? Keep your eyes on the screamer gauges and make sure nothing goes really bad. We're on a nice straight portion of the flight now, so you'll be fine."
> He was going to be persistent about this, wasn't he?
> With a bit of experimentation, you find that by hooking your hooves over the Y-like radial bars and pushing against the outer ring, you're able to keep a reasonable grip on the wheel.
> When it's not moving, that is.
"I - I think I've got it. But I'm really not sure-"
> Anonymous is getting out of his seat before you can finish your reply; turns to rush out the cockpit door, you hear a low mutter:
> "...fuckin' dunkin donuts coffee going right through me..."
> You're reasonably sure your peals of laughter could be heard through the entire cabin.
> So, that's why he'd been looking so pale!
> Still snickering, you shake your head and unconsciously repeat and adage from your Wonderbolt days:
" 'Always empty out before you head out.' "
> Occasional giggles are still bubbling up when your headphones pop to life.
> "...N803AA, be advised of navigation changes due to unexpected traffic in your area. Descend to ten-thousand and maintain altitude."
> Laughter dies in your throat, a lump as icy as the wind outside replacing it.
> Shit - now what?!
> You could read the altimeter fine - that was a three-thousand foot drop - but working the wheel?
> That was well beyond you.
> "N803AA, please acknowledge: Descend to ten thousand and maintain altitude."
> Shit, shit, shit.
> Anonymous had told you to keep it steady - but he always followed the given directions.
"Uh, standby. We hear you, standby-"
> If you screamed, would Anonymous hear it?
> "N803AA, who is this? You're a single pilot aircraft, but you sound different."
"Anonymous! We've got a problem! I need you back in here-"
> "N803AA, you need to remember your proper radio protocol. I'm right behind you, Spitfire."
> Whirling around, you spot Anonymous crouched in the cabin directly behind the cockpit, bearing a colossal, ruthless grin.
> As you boggle, he begins to laugh himself.
> "Ho-lee shit, Spits. You were freaking out there."
> Unplugging his headset from the intercomm port there, he climbs back into his seat.
> "Real ATC would have identified themselves. Also, they would've said 'over' after each order."
"...you are a complete and total nutjob. What if I'd actually done it?!"
> "I was right behind you; I'd have stopped you. And besides, the controls on this old thing are tough - I doubt you'd be able to do anything too crazy before I stopped you."
"That's - no! You put your life at risk!"
> "I was plenty close. I could've stopped you."
"That's not the - oh, never mind."
> Once again, you'd forgotten just how insane this human was.
> "Hey. You don't want me to do it again, don't laugh the next time I have to go to the bathroom."
"Is that what this was about? Seriously?!"
> "No. It was about trusting you, really."
> Any response dies in your throat.
> "I trusted you'd keep the plane steady until I could get back. Well, I got back."
"...with all due respect, sir: Don't ever test your 'trust' in me like that again. Please."
> "Fine, fine."
> Despite his tone, you have to admit he was right.
> Increasingly, Anonymous had been trusting you with greater and greater duties.
> That alone is enough to settle your mind somewhat - proof that your decision to go along with him for now was yielding results.
> "Hey Spitfire?"
>play PoP for the first time
>general told me how OP elves are
>but I didn't listen
>encounter a group of 20 Noldor with my 125 mid tier units
>How bad can it be?
>there is no word that properly describes how terribly they raped my ass
> "You can stop hanging on to the wheel for dear life now."
> Cheeks burning with shame, you release your grip on it and settle back in your seat.
Disclaimer: Do not ever mess with a pilot this way. It is a very, very dumb idea; that Anonymous does so relevant to the story.
I may be out a couple days due to travel, but that should give me plenty of time to bring the next section out in one piece.
>You take a deep breath, trying to focused on the cold metal of your M1 instead of your nerves
>Your first fucking month on the job, and all this shit happens
>Portals opening everywhere and the resulting chaos wasn't enough to handle
>There were fucking riots everywhere
>No, even after you calmed all that shit down, you still had to do this bullshit
>Four weeks after first contact and alien trafficking is already a thing
>Even worse, certain religious groups think it's okay
>Something about God giving humans dominion over all animals
>Nevermind the fact that these things were obviously not fucking animals
>They could talk, for Christ's sake!
>Well, whatever the reason, you have a job to do
>This raid is going to be relatively simple
>Tear down the door, throw some flashbangs, rescue people
>Something's totally gonna go horribly wrong
>The van stops and you file out with the rest of your SWAT squad, pressing against the wall
>This place was always seedy as shit, even for a Strip Club. You remember rumors that the Russian Mob ran it when you were still in college.
>Turns out it's a Mexican cartel
>Still pretty bad
>You glance around to see that the rest of the raid is already set up
>Jamal already has the battering ram
>Guess your car really was late
>Moment of truth
>Your squad leader nods, and Jamal surges forward, effortlessly swinging the heavy metal cylinder into the door
>It breaks down instantly
>"POLICE! EVERYBODY ON THE GROUND! ON THE GROUND!"
>Jim surges forward, and you follow behind him, shotgun at the ready
>"GET DOWN! POLICE!"
>You survey the situation
>Three guys you can see
>One not wearing pants
>Plus several dozen cowering equines
>Great, fucking great—
>The popping noise of a gun going off takes your mind off them
>You're being shot at
>Thankfully the guys in front of you have a blast shield
>Time seems to slow down
>Even worse, certain religious groups think it's okay
>Something about God giving humans dominion over all animals
>Nevermind the fact that these things were obviously not fucking animals
Not detracting from the story but I think realistically, or at least as realistic as you can get, religious organizations would sooner want them all dead cause magic/sorcery is typically condemned. And since the Pony's whole thing is magic, their entire existence would be seen as an affront to the Lord.
>Okay. Popping wasn't very rapid, and it wasn't very loud.
>Okay, not that bad
>Still a pretty bad scenario, but manageable
>It's coming from your left
>Heart pounding, you swing the barrel of your gun towards the noise
>More gunfire interrupts your thoughts
>Much louder and much faster
>Jesus Christ, somebody has a fucking assault rifle
>Somebody screams next to you
>You hold your breath and take a moment to line up your sights, then squeeze the trigger twice
>Well, if he's behind that couch, he's dead
>Now to deal with the other guy
>You hear fire again, but it's coming from your guys this time
>Chips of wood fly everywhere as they fire into the bar
>9mm rounds probably aren't doing too much damage to it
>It's an old bar, and looks like solid wood
>Your training takes over again, ad you move to the left
>Thankfully, your squad is laying down enough fire that these fuckers aren't going to be able to do much
>Besides shit their pants, at least
>You keep moving until you're near the wall
>The second you have a view behind the bar, you squeeze the trigger
>The knockback hurts your shoulder a bit, but you fire six quick rounds at the hostiles
>Which means that you're out
>Still, that's a lot of lead
>And nobody's shooting at you
>Job well done?
>You just killed somebody
>Part of you wants to vomit
>"SECURE THE AREA!"
>More SWAT step forward, keeping their rifles at eye level
>"Anon, go back. You're out."
>Guess Bob was counting the shots
>Still, you're not quite sure that you can leave
>You're a bit wobbly in the knees at this point
>You turn towards the door, but stop when you get a view of the pantlless one
>There's a pony cowering in the corner near him
>A yellow one. Pretty cute, actually.
>Much smaller than the others
>On second thought, fuck these people
>You wish you could have shot all of them
>Not just the two or three you did
For the record, I'm talking about the M1 shotgun, not the M1 carbine
>Still. You are out of ammunition
>Which means that the best you're gonna do is get yourself killed
>You stumble out of the strip joint, still trying to get a real breath
>And you thought the riots were intense
>You stumble back into the van and sit down
>You should probably be finding another weapon and going back in
>But, with your nerves how they are right now, you'd probably wind up shooting a pony or one of your squad members
>Nah. Time to just sit down.
>You're not sure how long you sit before they start rescuing hostages
>Probably not very long
>Ponies are coming out of the place, one at a time
>Well, one at a time except the four Jamal is carrying
>This is something you can actually help with, so you step up and motion towards one of the officers that you can take their ward from here
>You deliver the hostages back to the waiting vans
>There's two of them, but you'll probably need more
>Hopefully somebody else can radio it in
>You help the trembling pony into the car, patting her in what you hope is a comforting way on the head
>Then you go back and get the next one
>You try to ignore the fact that she's that kid from before
>She, however, doesn't give you a chance, throwing you into a hug
>"You saved me mister! You saved me!"
>How the fuck can she tell...
>Whatever, that doesn't really matter
"I do my best"
>You lead her to the van as well
>The next thirty minutes passes like that
>Things become kind of a blur
>At some point, you find yourself in your bed
>Not that you're going to be sleeping
>So. You killed people, but saved others.
>Fair trade, you suppose...
Sleeping. Will continue this a bit if people are interested
Continued from http://pastebin.com/CndZXCih
>You are the now naked Ling
>Well, sort of, you’re always naked, but now you’re extra naked without a shell
>Anyway you’re relaxing in the tub, the help Anon gave you was pleasant
>But goodness is he weird sometimes
>You lay back in the tub with a sigh
>Your eyes trail downward
>What he said rings in your minds
>‘oh you have teats’
>It reminds you of.. some things..
>You’d rather not think about it
>Trailing your hoof down your stomach you stop just above your nipples
>The way he said it was obviously sexual
>You’re scary enough in your normal form
>But here comes anon, buying you up and not giving a single care
>Then on top of that he sees you molting
>In you’re opinion a molted changeling makes a normal changeling look like a super model
>Your skin is pale green and slightly wrinkled
>It’ll be another couple before you grow another shell
>A week before its hardened
>Yet, for some reason, Anon was completely okay with this
>He even washed you
>And yet for his clear attraction to you and his obvious innuendos
>There wasn’t a single bit of lust in his emotions
>And you feed on emotions so you know this shit
>You touch the small nipple between your legs, jumping at the electric feeling it gives you
>Shit you forgot those even existed, they hide under the carapace
>When you become pregnant with a pony foal they’re suppose to grow some
>Then they make themselves available from underneath a small slit in your carapace
>that slit is suppose to be able to move around
>Kind of like the bands around you’re stomach
>Which didn’t come off with the molting shell which makes it so much weirder
>You wonder what it’d be like
>Eh, then again, being pregnant…
>Naw fuck that you like being alone with Anon
>Maybe he could..
>No, go away thoughts
>You slide down until only your muzzle up is visible above the wall of bubbles in the bath
>Thoughts run through your head, everything from Anon, to the life of Equestria
>Unsurprisingly, you hear thoughts and opinions follow through
>Until that is, one regal one speaks up to your brain, silencing the others
“Yes my Queen”
>>“Stop calling me that, I told you all to call me Chrysalis or mom, I’m not some tyrant”
“R.. right.. Sorry My qu--Mom”
>>“Anyway, 3946, The human calls you Ling. That’s…rather corny, but it’s the name I’ll call you as well”
>You nod some listening in, head sinking further into the water
“What is it that you need mother?”
>>“This human, Anon, he is good to you. But you seem not to know what feelings you have for him?”
>>“I feel I should tell you. Do what feels right. Friendship or what have you. Its fine to trust your feelings. We may share the link of a hive mind, but we do not control each other”
>You sigh, listening to her, you’d have thoughts on that, but she’d know them immediately
>>“Don’t be shy Ling. Spend some time with him and do things you both enjoy. The more I watch him through you the more I realize he may just be the help we need to help your sisters”
“If he is.. what will we do?”
>>“Recruit him should he be willing. And do what we can to establish a new hive on Earth, we may even bring in run away ponies. Your sisters tell me there are many”
“And their fear of us?”
>>‘Who knows.. we’ll figure it out when we get there. Until then, heal your body and spend more time with him”
>You nod to yourself
“Of course mother”
>>“And don’t be afraid to tell him how you feel when the time is right”
>You hear a giggle in your mind and several others followed behind
>Sometimes Chrysalis is just too much of a mom
>>“Be careful. If he does love you, don’t eat all of it up at once and get a stomach ache”
>You swear that means something deeper
“Sure thing Que- Mom”
“I need to get out of the bath. I’ll talk to you all later”
>>“I’m always listening”
>>“I love you my child”
>You swear you can hear her making a kissy face
(fucking character limits messing me up)
>You sever the connection
>Well you try, but the best you can do is go back to ignoring the other changelings as they go back to their daily thoughts and Chrysalis sorts through it or gives out advice
>When you go to reach for the towels you come to an absolutely horrible realization
>This is the
>There no towels
thats all for now
>now it's time to continue on your wander
>while slowly standing up and stretching your body, you think about which way you'll go
>but does it really matter?
>as long as you're out there with her, it doesn't
>though, you could have another race, since running makes her happy
>if it even can be called „race“
>but you certainly won't mind some more physical exercise
>if you gonna practice this often, you might even get into better condition
>and one day maybe even win the race fairly
>yeah, that's stupid. She's just too fast for a human, but still worth a try
>“Which way?“ she's asking already, interrupting you from your thoughts
„I don't know, but follow me. We'll find some.“ you grin before setting off as fast as you can to have some headstart
>it doesn't last long until she catches up of course
„Lead the way. We're going over there!“ you gesture the direction with the movement of your head to the forest
>you know there's a way trough, even for a bike. You've already been there
>hopefuly, you won't run into someone else there
>you can feel the adrenaline and joy of speed rushing into your head as you're speeding behind her
>she actualy reaches her full speed and rushes ahead like a dart
>but before the border of the forest, she turns around, running back to you, so she can continue along your side
>soon, you reach the forest together and race trough a road leading inside
>you eventualy gotta go one after another, because it gets too thin
>she's first of course, you'd be just slowing her down
>some old guy, directly in the way
>Sarah dashes around, you almost crash into him and have to stop
>>“Whoa slow down there lad, that was close. And what was that thing?“
„Yeah, close...But what thing you mean?“
>>“The green one. It was just...“
>he turns around, but she's already gone, out of his sight
„I don't know what you're talking about.“
>>“Recruit him should he be willing. And do what we can to establish a new hive on Earth, we may even bring in run away ponies. Your sisters tell me there are many”
Oh shit, dawg,TERRA FIRMA CHANEGLING HIVE CONFIRMED!
Who /enjoying co co wheats in a soft light by a window/
Hmm this scene looks familiar...
If you were here, id love to make you some
Sadly, i did one year of college and im in that stressful "what the heck do i do with my life " stage
Arts all i got going for me, and you know how that is in our current world, and mcdonalds is rather miserable
I probably won't be updating today, still gotta brainstorm a bit on Spike, but mostly taking a break. I have some Deviantart request ive been putting off for a while and i need to get at least one closer to being done
>It's getting late, and the sun has already set
>Loneliness is starting to creep in
>Today, you took a bath, finally feeling clean for once
>You ate here and there, but couldn't stomach much due to nerves as the hours passed quietly
>You started cleaning and doing whatever you could around the house
>Granny Smith as old as she was, you were plenty used to making a home
>You put a lantern out by the front door as the sun set, taking one last look up and down the road
>Finally, all that's left to do is sit down on the couch and watch the fire as it slowly burns away
"Where is he..?"
>Your eye smarted a bit, as you remembered the look on his face this morning
"Why's it matter that they bruised me up?"
>He's always so calm and collected, but somethin' slipped this morning
>You could imagine what might he be doin', and none of it pretty
>You never cared none for that revenge stuff
>All you care about right now is...
>Your ears perk
>Was that a crackle of the fire, or a twig breaking outside?
>You jump off the couch and bolt to the window, opening it and sticking your head out
>There's definitely somethin' out there
>A squeaky, metal sound, like an ol' wheel-barrow
>And footsteps, human ones
>The gate opens, and in the fading light of dusk you catch a glimpse
>It looks like Master, making his way to the barn
>Your heart is beatin' faster...
>You think you'd better stay inside
>After all this time, it's hard just to endure each second
>Sitting on the couch, waiting...
>Eventually the tension is broken, hearing the barn doors slam shut
>And Master's distinct foot-steps are coming around to the front-door
>But something sounds off...
>He takes the lantern off the hook, and opens the door, coming inside
>You open your mouth to greet him, but stop at the sight
>His clothes are dirty, his shirt is damp, a hole is torn in the knee of his blue-jeans
>a stained rag is tied tight around his forearm
>You can smell blood and booze
>His face is... just expressionless
>But you can tell from the way he paused as he spotted you
>Surprised you're still here, maybe?
>He blinks and looks around his home, slowly taking off his boots
>There's a limp in his walk as he moves towards the couch
>You were sure you heard it
"Get me a drink. And stoke the fire."
>The commanding tone in his voice pulls on you like puppet-strings
>But you can hear somethin' hurting, too
>You swallow, and leap to your hooves
>A bottle of spiced apple cider, barely drunk from yet
>You carefully pour some, and set it to warm on the stove
>Moving over to the fireplace, setting fresh logs while you wait
>Master falls back onto the couch, slowly taking off all of his clothes, throwing them on the ground
>You catch a gasp in your throat, seeing his knee, bruised and swollen...
"What in the name of goodness happened, Master?"
>He looks at you, finally naked, sat still but for the slow rhythm of his breathing
>A smile, the charming practiced one, but cracked enough to see through now
"I'm fine. Get me my drink."
>You hurry back to the stove, and do what you're told
>Doesn't look fine at all, but at least he's home and safe
>You sneak a swig of cider from the bottle for yourself, then carry his cup to him
>He groans with comfort as he downs it all...
>Guess you'd better just bring over the whole bottle.
>You sit next to him on the couch
>Layin' your chin on his thigh, just above his hurt knee.
>Long minutes pass in quiet relief, with only the roar of the fire to hear, and the occasional sloshing of booze as Master takes his drink
>You know things aren't alright, but you're comfortable none the less
>Your ears perk, and you look up at him
"Why're you still here?"
>You can't answer right away
>It's a question you were expecting at some point
>Just maybe not right now
"I'm a mare of my word."
>He shakes his head slowly
>You blush just a bit, his hand grabbing your chin and tilting your head
>He stares at your bruised eye for a moment, then let's you go with a deep breath
>The last of the cider rolls out of the bottle into his mouth
>A little bit dribbles down his body
>For some reason... you decide to lick it up
>He responds with a shiver, a soft groan
"Master... I'm gonna take care'a you. That's why I'm still here. I'm gonna earn my money doin' the best I can for ya."
>His hand creeps over your neck, scritching under your collar, then moves to caress your loose, freshened mane
"Good, good... Then suck my cock."
>He didn't have to ask you twice
>The sweaty, musky smells were teasing your nose all this time, so close
>And the taste of his seed... you haven't forgotten
>It's salty and delicious, nothing like a pony's
>It's like a treat...
>You dip your snout between his thighs and set to work
>Licking him all over, taking deep breaths as he grows
>He's just the perfect size for your mouth
>Big enough to touch the back of your mouth
>Just enough room left for your long, rough pony tongue to pleasure him in each and every way
>His deep, tired groans and growls...
>Each one, so rewarding.
>You wake up
>Morning has come again...
>You're woken by the feeling of Master latching your leash back to your collar
>Still laying on the couch, the faint taste of his cum still on your tongue
>You shriek and your body jolts as he suddenly smacks your ass
"Wha- What?! I'm up..."
"Good morning, Jack. We've got work this morning."
>You yawn and rub your eyes
"Your knee. I cleaned up your arm and got you bandaged up nice after you passed out. But your knee, you gotta care for it."
>You smile at him, but it falls off your face, he looks deadly serious
"I told you, I'm fine. Don't get stubborn now."
"I'm not, I'm sorry Sir..."
>It hurts you to watch him limping around the room.
>He grabs the empty cider bottle off the end-table, and tugs on your leash
"Come, my slave."
>You can't help but follow
>And some small part of you even feels good to be pulled around like this by him
>But that fiery look in his eyes, and his tense posture
>Whatever wasn't right last night...
>You get a sense that it's about to come to a head now
"Don't worry, Jack. You'll make me breakfast and set my bath after we're done. It'll be back to normal."
>He looks back at you with a pleasant smile now, smooth as porcelain
>That's the Anon you've come to know... a snake
>But despite everything, he took a moment to reassure you
>A snake better than most, anyway
>You nod to him as he leads you outside, trying to hide his limp
>The barn doors creak open
>It sends your mind on a twist, seeing things from this perspective
>You're just glad you're not still tied up in there.
>But you're not at all comforted by what you find there in your place.
>A dirty looking stallion stands frozen in the middle of the barn
>His hooves chained and bolted to the floor
>It's... the guy who gave ya that black-eye.
>The morning-light next falls on that wheel-barrow off to the side
>Your stomach does a flip
>This is what Master was up to...
It remains to be seen.
>Master stood there for a good while, still as a statue and staring him down
>That empty cider gripped like a sword in his hand next to you
"Morning there, bucko."
>The stallion just spits
"Fuck you and your stupid tramp."
"This 'tramp' is my property. And /nobody/ damages my property."
>Your cheeks burn with a strange emotion, being referred to as 'property'
"Ey, did I stutter you human fuckin' freak? Fuck you both. I don't care."
"You don't care yet? Really?"
>Master gives a casual chuckle, shaking his head
"The right eye."
>It happened so suddenly
>Anon rushed forward in a blur
>He lifted the bottle up, and before you could even blink
>It made a deathly sound against the stallions face before shattering into a million pieces
>He fell to his haunches, screaming
>Blood pouring from cuts on his face, his eye shut tight
>Master took a few steps back, admiring his work.
"How much do you care now?"
>You knew it would be bad...
>But holy golden apples...
>You just stand frozen
>Master moves back to you and pets your mane
"What's the point of acting so tough? Your own boys left you for dead last night. You're a worthless drunk and nobody's gonna miss you. So... We're gonna put you back to sleep, drop you on a freight-train to who-knows-where, and you can make a real life for yourself far away from here."
>He tugs on your collar commandingly, then gives you slack
"Go on, Jack. Give him a kick. Knock his lights out, and we're done."
>You... you can't. Could you?
>You can't disobey Master
>But this ain't right
"I just bathed yesterday, don't wanna get my hooves dirty again on that sonnuvabitch. Ya made a real bloody mess."
>You wait for the slap... but...
>He laughs... genuinely
>Your heart is briefly aflutter because of it.
"Good point. Alright. I'll just get the hammer. Go inside and start my bath, Jack."
>You obey... feeling only slightly relieved, and mostly sick
MAYBE FIREKING IS FOR KONZENTRATIONSLAGER
Via Teodosio, Milan, Italy
Yeah i'm tired as fuck and can't think
so Jack is gonna take a nap
Have yerself a merry bump and a good night
(Green text is Anon, normal text is Ling)
>You grab at the boor, shivering
>You try to turn it but your lack of hands is an issue
>Also you’re ling
>Yeah that’s an important detail
>You lean down and bite the door knob, twisting
>It is a pain in the ass and it takes some work, but you manage it
>You tumble out of the bathroom with a loud yelp
>Anon is sitting in his bedroom watching you holding up a towel
>Shivering you stare at him
“Only on Sundays”
>He goes to reply then throws the towel at you instead
>You quickly grab it and start drying yourself off, then promptly wrap it around yourself
>Thank the queen for human sized towels
>>“I didn’t make them” replies Chrysalis in your brain
>Making your way into his bedroom you hop up onto Anons bed, looking down at the pile of carapace
“So what’s the plan for this?”
>“I don’t know yet, but I think I’d be cool”
“You do realize that’s basically my skin right?”
>“yeah and its really cool!”
>You begin to make your way back into your room when Anon grabs your shoulder
>“You’ve been in there for a month silly, its time to spend some time together”
>Oh shit he’s got you
>It would be nice to be together for a while though
>Doing what though?”
>You tap your chin thinking
>“I’m going to have to go to work tomorrow though, so today we should relax”
“I can agree to that”
Because i'm sort of stuck here, what will they do to relax today. we cyoa now
RAINBOW DASH ALWAYS DRESSES IN STYLE
>You feel yourself being lifted
>You panic, kicking your legs
>Anon pets your head
>You hate it when he does that
>okay maybe you like it a little
>Just a bit though
>He rubs your head more
>“Ling, We’re going to watch some human TV today, and I’m going to teach you about a beautiful thing called alcohol”
“I already know what alcohol is”
>“Oh.. well.. still, TV”
>You look up at him
>He smiles down at you and puts you back down on the bed
>Why did he pick you up
>“I think you’re just small enough to wear this”
>“My ex girlfriend left one of her shirts here, you’re juust small enough for it”
>Anon certainly doesn’t seem like the type to have a-
>Anon pulls out a pink shirt covered in flowers
>Its girly but, its rather beautiful
>You wouldn’t imagine this much love flowing from an inanimate object but..
>Anon has a clear connection to this shirt
>You can’t tell whether to be happy he is giving you such a delicious feast or sad he’s still feeling this much love for the previous wearer
(I had to dig deep to find this specific shirt from 2010)
>Anon motions you to lift your arms
>You do so and he slides the shirt on over you
>It smells like.. passion fruit perfume mixed with cherry blossoms
>A cheap scent, like, Christmas present from the mall cheap, but nice
>You look up at him
>He runs his hand over your back
“Why’re you giving me this?”
>“I should get rid of it, I’ve had it for almost 3 years after she..”
>“But, I can’t. so. Why not give it to the new most important girl in my life”
>You blush and look away
>His words taste of a family love, not the kind you expected
>Geeze he loves messing with you
>Well, you can’t deny you love it right back
>You check out the shirt you have on
>It does make you feel warmer
>Though you’re backside is cold
>You hop off the bed and run into your room
>Anon goes to follow but you stop him and shut the door
>Inside your room, you’ve had to adapt the lights to blue lights, since there is no bioluminescent fungus like in your old hive, you turn it on and look through your blackened drawers
>You find your socks and put them on
>You dig a bit deeper and find your treasure
>Anon doesn’t know about them
>You are afraid of what he will say
>But they are comfy
>A pair of soft pink panties with a bow
>you’ve cut a hole in them for your tail
>Maximum comfy and warm
>You hope anon doesn’t care
>especially since you found them under his bed
>They smelled funny and were a bit crust so you cleaned them up
>You don’t really want to know what caused them to be in such condition, but a good hand wash really got them like new
>Heck they even had a little love stuck to them, not much though
you fucking know it
Thank god i don't actually still have the shirt or i'd be a pathetic mess. Though it is a nice shirt.
Skittles being forced to dress in style when?
again, real life wasn't very nice to me and I was in the hospital, and had surgery on my left ring finger
please don't spam the thread full before i finish the bathing scene, I want to stay in recent stories ^^"
had an ocarina removed, pic related
it's an ocarina
no idea, in the lab for analysis
had a scar there and the scar tissue might have gotten calcified (free translation)
but scar tissue can also lead to cancer
90% of the stories here reminded me of this maymay so I horseified it. Bonus points if you know the original image.
yup, a disruption big enough to leave a scar is pretty much asking your body to have cells there not doing what they are supposed to do, hence scar tissue
they can also just start to reproduce uncontrolled -> cancer
i will give it a try
>you are anon
>you are rich as fuck
>you heard that there will be slave pony auction tomorrow
>they are the fucking elements and princesses
>surely there will be many people
>time to troll and purchase
(( Jack is back ))
>Master came out of the bathroom in a glorious puff of steam
>Just a towel around his waist
>Morning sunlight poured into the room and there were even birds chirping
>It was too darn perfect
>He limped over to the table
>You made sure breakfast and coffee were already waitin' for him
>He gave you a brief smile, then picked up a fork and started eating
"Your arm's lookin' better. I'll wrap it up again when yer done."
>He just nods and takes a sip of coffee
>You give him a moment, making sure there's nothin' he wants from you
>Then you get yourself an apple and sit down next to him
>It would be a fine moment...
>If not for the fact that just an hour ago, you were damn near witnessing a murder
"So, Applejack. About our renegotiation. Your break day is over. From here on out, I'll pay you 15 bits every day - as long as you're good. No more misbehaving like you did out there."
>He cuts into a flap-jack
"Out... there, Master?"
>He looks at you sternly for a moment
"Yeah. I told you to kick him, didn't I?"
>You shiver lightly
>Right, he did...
>I guess you shouldn't have expected to get away with that, but-
"But it was your break day. So, I'll let it slide."
>He smiles again, and takes another bite, a moment of quiet
"Thank you, Sir..."
"Just remember the new rules. You're going to do anything I tell you to do. /Anything/. Besides being a barn-whore, anyway."
>Something about his tone doesn't sit right with you
>But, that /is/ what you said
"Okay. Wash my dirty clothes today, tailor that hole in my pants."
>He pushes his plate back and gets up, taking his coffee with him
"Dishes, too. I have to go to the market, and then clean up the barn. Blood-stains are a bit tough, so~"
>He rubs his chin, looking around the house
>His eyes land on the basket of apples
"I'd like to smell a freshly baked apple pie when I come inside."
>He looks at you and winks
"Then I'm gonna come inside you."
>You blush and just nod...
>you go to your luxurious bed
>everything fades dark
>you wake up
>time to go to the slave niggers auction
>you exit your villa and get into your lamborghini and travel to the slave auction
>your phone vibrates
>it's Mohammed Al-Fatih
"what the fuck do you want?"
"yeah yeah whatever"
>"i wanted to tell you that i finished your golden guns
>"so, what are you doing"
>"cool! yesterday i purchased a gary pony that plays the cello"
>"now i have to go my second wife is calling me-"
>>"أعطني قضيب كبير"
>Did she snort?
>Someone with a voice like Fluttershy snorted when laughing too much?
>“Hmhm... y-yes, Master?”
“Did you just snort?”
>You ask the question non malevolent, but she freezes anyway.
>“I-I- I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, Ma-”
>You stop her before infusing her with fear again.
“I think it's cute.”
“You're cuter than you give yourself credit for, Fluttershy.”
>Breaking the hug, you set her down a little so her forehooves rest on the edge of the tub.
“Let's continue, shall we?”
>She only gave a meager noise of agreement and you goop up some more of the shampoo.
>Placing your hand on her chin again you now begin to coat her fur in the shampoo and rub it in ever so slightly.
>It's her face, so of course you do so very carefully, not to accidentally poke her in the eye.
>You can only wonder what was going through her head as you do so.
>Right now, she doesn't have anything more to do than let herself be treated to this.
>That's what spoiled rich women do at spas, right?
>Letting themselves be pampered.
>You wonder if there were pony spas and if Fluttershy has ever been to one, but you withhold the question.
>Bringing up memories of the past, with all that she's been through...
>You hope she was happy at the moment, you just got her to laugh.
>It was about a bad joke, but still a small sample of happiness which she hasn't had in ..
>You frown, you don't really want to think about it.
>Slavery is so fucked up.
>Is it better to be born in slavery and never having known freedom or to have it ripped away from you?
>You snap out of your train of thought.
>“Is there something weighing on your mind?”
“Well... yeah, but...”
>You finish with her face and let go of her.
“It's not... I don't know.”
>“I... Master, I am to carry your burdens and help you in your daily life. If there is something I can do to ease your mind...”
>You hear the words coming out of Fluttershy's mouth, but you had troubles letting them sink in.
>Is she that submissive to you already?
>She said that whole thing without stuttering as well.
>Some things she can barely squeeze out, others..
>The phrasing is off.
>You had a hunch this was something she was trained to say.
“Let me rinse off your face, so close your eyes again.”
>You choose to ignore her words and continue with washing her body.
>For a while you do so in silence, leaving the both of you to your thoughts.
>Once you pass her wings another thought crosses your mind.
>Her backside and mare bits needs to be washed as well, don't they?
>Should you let her to do it alone?
>No, you can't back out.
>You said she needs to get used to you touching her (it sounds lewd again)
>Now you need to establish dominance by not going back on your word.
>Actions have consequences, even for the master.
>Is it harder or easier after she had confessed her love to you in a drugged out state?
>Harder, definitely harder
>No, keep it down.
>You had o shift position how you kneel before the tub to wash her.
>Something wants to come out and play
>Keep it down, dude.
>You're just washing her.
>As you keep massaging the shampoo in you notice again some scar tissue.
>Lines of approximately the same angle on her lower back to hip.
>Whip marks, most likely.
>You're not really surprised that you have found another blemish on her body.
>And the fact that you just take it as a given now angers you anew.
>It helps cool down the blood which wanted to relocate in your pants.
>You shake your head to try to get the thoughts out again.
“Can you help me with pony anatomy a bit, Fluttershy?”
>She must mean.. oh.
>Acting oblivious you continue.
“I know the bones are pretty much the same in mammals, even though their proportions are different. But ahhh..”
“Like.. I know terms like haunch and flank, and I believe some thing is called stifle..?”
>“Oh... ahh... The stifle is the equivalent of a human knee.”
>You nod and trail your hands down to her knee... or stifle, as it's called.
>Taking more of the goo again you rub it in on her left side.
“The flank I believe is the area between ribs and hip... the part that's not your... barrel?”
>Taking a bigger goop you spread it over what's essentially her ass.
>She didn't give much more than an confirmatory squeak.
>Blood starts to flow down again as you continue to tease her.
>You carefully avoid the area too far up on her inner thigh and go down, making her tell you the names of said areas.
>“G-gaskin, hook... c-cannon.”
>As you go further down she regains her composure again.
>“Ankle, pastern and fetlocks, and just the hoof.”
>Now as for the more fun part.
>You're already have a sizable semi.
>You really, really like to hear her squirm.
>Something about her voice and entire being just makes her very tease-able
“I appreciate you helping me out with these terms. I want to take good care of you after all.”
>“O-of course, Master.”
“And I think you're making some good progress. You're still squirming for some reason when I touch you, but you know you can trust me, right?”
>She didn't respond.
>“Yes! Master. I.. ahh..”
>She went quiet and then took a more serious tone.
>“I trust you.”
>There was something else in her tone which you can't really place.
“I'll finish cleaning you. Okay.. Hoof, and pastern
>Slowly you make your way up.
>You're just doing that to tease her, because you like to tease her. Not because you're into bestiality.
>You whisper to her as you've reached her mare bits.
>She's shaking again, if only slightly, but not of fear.. you hope.
>You take a sponge and soak it in the water which has already collected on the floor of the tub.
>“Hmm? Y-yes, Master?”
>You smile at her.
“Spread your legs.”
(( Doing a little fuzzy-wuzzy tenderness since the "rape barn" arc is over ))
>One week rolls over...
>You could almost say it was blissful
>You could almost forget you're even a slave
>And not just a house-wife
>If it weren't for the occasional rump-slaps
>A few cheek-smacks...
>And that collar around your neck
>You feel as though, you might be falling in love with Anon again
>In some sick, twisted way.
>Master has been givin' you a good rutting every day
>Multiple times a day, even
>Eventually he just tied your tail up so you're always 'presenting'
>He particularly enjoys watching you go about your chores in the house
>As his cum leaks from you rear
>And the way he uses his hands to play with your clit...
>You just can't put it in words
>Yesterday, what did he do?
>The Pegasi reported a snow-storm comin', so...
>He brought you outside and made you cut up a load of fire-wood
>Worked up a little sweat
>Then he fucked you right there outside until the snow started falling
>Sometimes he'd even let you lick him clean
>Your salty treat, he knows you love it
>And now it's Friday night
>It's pitch-black out there, and the snow is still comin' down
>Master is huddled in a nest of blankets on the floor, between the couch and the fireplace
>Wordlessly, he beckons you to come over to him
>You've grown used to his body-language
>You often know what he wants without him sayin' anything
>He's not feelin' sexy, he's not got anything for you to do
>As you get closer, and look at his face
>Usually a familiar, practiced expression
>Tonight, it feels like you're lookin' through an open door
>A door, that's been closed for a long, long time
(( ... is 'rough sex erry day' fuzzy-wuzzy and tender? ))
I write when I want nigga
I love you guys By the way i made these for dinner, if you're NEET as me, try them. they're delicious http://www.landolakes.com/recipe/3748/glazed-ham-cheese-party-sandwiches
It's both adorable and somewhat lewd and I love it.
>You lay down next to him
>Your head on his lap
>He pulls the blankets over you and tugs you closer
>Staring into the fire, the only light in the room
>His hand begins to gently caress and pet over your branded cutie-mark
>Tracing his mark with his finger tip
>You nuzzle his belly, and he moves his other hand to rub under your chin
>He lets go of a deep sigh
"Applejack... Why haven't you killed me yet?"
>Your fur stands on end, caught off guard by that
>The petting intensifies as he feels your discomfort
"No secret letter sent off to your friends to come rescue you?
"A'course not, that would be betrayal, Master."
>A moment of quiet...
"So? I'm a bad person, you know that right? People like me... are just askin' for it."
"Nah, I don't really. I mean ya been scary some times, but bad? Besides, good or bad, I'm your slave. What choice've I got? Ain't about to betray you."
"And when you go back home, and everyone wants to know about our 'escapade'?"
"None of their business."
"When rumors that you can't just sweep under the rug reach Ponyville?"
"It don't matter none what I do in my private, personal life. And my friends ain't about to judge me after some of the secrets /they've/ shared."
>Master's body is tensing.
"It'll be a scandal."
"Oh dear~ Applejack's got a wild side."
>You say it in a faux-whiney tone
"Did I ever tell ya 'bout that time Rainbow Dash nearly blew up Cloudsdale? Yeah hon, we're used to dodgin' scandals."
"Did you just call me 'hon'?"
"Uhh, yes, sorry Master."
>The fire cracks
>He finally relaxes
"I don't mind... But Applejack. You can't love me."
"I'm a monster. I'm a psychopath. I picked you out like fruit from a tree. You're my victim."
>No I ain't...
"You have no idea the things I've done, for no good reason..."
>He stops short
"Master. Tell me then."
(( The last bit that's cut-off in the next quick post ))
>You nuzzle his belly again and nudge his hand
"Alright, then, quit all this worryin' and let me comfort you."
>Things go quiet again
>He seems to accept what you said, and continues his petting
>You're mighty sleepy
>Master smells so good
>And you just feel like dozin' off...
"Okay, you're right. Why worry, it'll be over soon. Don't forget your promise, Applejack.
I want to turn Skittles into an egghead and study together with her.
your waifu doesn't exist
but texan girls exist
I understood that reference!
But I don't have the image referenced, but I have one by the same artist.
>You make your way back into Anons bedroom
>The reaction you expected was not the one you got
>You kind of expected him to be like ‘oh hey you found those and they’re cute’
>Instead what you got was a wide eyed stare
>Anon gasps and stands up
>“LING WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?!”
“I uh, found them under the bed, what’s wrong?”
>“Please oh please tell me you washed them!”
“Yeah.. I did what’s wrong?”
>“N…nothing, just, I guess.. Uh”
>You blink watching him
>He sits back down
>“I forgot I had those around”
>You roll your eyes and hop up, now warm all over
>Your legs are a bit cold though
>“Lets just say those belong to the same person as the shirt”
“Oh, okay. I didn’t make you mad did I?”
>He sits there running a hand down your side
>“Naw, you didn’t, just surprised”
>You notice him bite his lip as he stares
>You nod and hop up, sitting up close to him
>Master or not, this guys warm
>Warm is nice
>Oddly enough he seems to get uncomfortable when you press into his lap
>Oh well, probably some silly human tradition
>You lay into him and look up at Anon, your nose touching his chin
“So, whats the plan?”
>“An old TV series. it’s a classic, you’ll love it”
>You turn to the TV and press into his chest
>He already has it ready and paused
“This is a movie right?”
>“No, not really, I just own all the episodes on disk”
“The DVD thing?”
>He presses play
>The title pops up and you watch confused
>The flying circus
>You’ve seen flying circus’
>You high doubt humans can..
>This isn’t a circus
>Animated paper figures
>What the fuck is going on
>Is that a male dressed as a female
>Anon is watching you closely, reading you expressions of horror, confusion, and amusement
>You can’t look away though
>These humans have a familiar accent to your previous owner, but are very posh, like canter lot-
>Never mind they aren’t posh at all
>You start giggling
>The two of you laugh together and he grips you tight
“This interview is fake, right?”
>You gasp cutting anon off
“He shot him!”
>You wave your hoof in his face watching closer now
>You go through the series, watching each episode
>This shit is corny
>Like extremely corny
>By episode 5 you’re in tears giggling like a filly
>Anon isn’t laughing as hard as you, laughing more like the people in the background of the show you’re watching, quick chuckles
>Of course you have never seen this before
>It just gets sillier and sillier the further you watch it!
>The two of you watch episode after episode
>Only occasionally getting up for bathroom breaks and food
>Anon seems to really be enjoying it
>When season 2 is over, its been over 12 hours
>You look at the clock
>holy crap its 10pm
>You are fine eating his love, but Anon must be starving!
>You poke his nose
>Anon wiggles his face and looks down at you
>“A bit. You want something?”
“Sure, that’d be nice”
>Anon pauses the show and gets up, sitting you down
>You wiggle your hips, feeling the panties having slid down a bit
>Quickly you pull them back up
>Anon is in front of you by now
>Thank goodness he didn’t see, that would have been awkward
>While in the kitchen with Anon, you walk around and take a seat to watch
>You sit with your front legs between your back and staring up at him
>When he turns around he pats your head
>This results in a soft hiss from yourself
>Anon looks through his fridge and pulls out two left over salads from yesterday
>Since you moved in he’s lost a bit of weight
>Everyday he looks just a bit better
>You ask a mouth full of a carrot
>Your body is ready
>“I’m mad you stole them, but, Well, They also look very good on you”
>And there it is
>You smile brightly up at him
>“I’m not kidding Ling, Though I’m surprised they fit”
“Well, I had to cut a tail hole, so I guess they got a bit smaller when I sewed them back”
>“I see.. did you do anything else to them?”
“No, no I didn’t”
>He nods and looks down at the bowl, thinking about something it seems
>You can taste a bit of sadness off him. It tastes very sour.
>You don’t like it
for you history
Ya'll ponies just racist
Holy shit. You's still alive?
Rainbow Dash/Skittles the piss fetish story
Applejack selling herself to slavery and maximum submission
Waiting on anons
Blind anon and fluttershy
A changeling finds anons cum panties
OC pone being cute
I think there was a raid on a strip joint at some point
Spitfire flies with a human
And more waiting
I-I'm here too, sorta
I haven't been forgotten so soon?
oh. and don't let this >>26056687
dumbass tern you off of skittles.
it's heartbreakingly cute and amazing. There is a little piss fetish shit at the beginning for shock value. No more after that.
thats what makes it so funny
oh sheit you
/k/ as fuck sniper anon finds a plotting twilight
I personally like how
edgyyours is without the edge being directed at the pony
Maud is really beautiful. I'm just imagining having her lobotomized to be my precious little robotic slave (she already talks in a robotic fashion so I think we can save a few cuts to the brain). I'd take her everywhere; she'd serve as arm candy as well as eye candy. She'd clean the house, she'd make the bed, she'd carry my belongings, she'd relieve my sexual tension, she'd do just about anything a retarded slave can do. If I can't lobotomize her, I guess the tried and true methods of torture/brainwashing could work as well, but that'd be a fuckton more work, though it would be worth it to me.
Just looking at her gives me a smile on my face. I don't care about her in any way except her body, but that's enough for me to want her around. Do you guys feel this way about any pone?
Good luck trying to get a vegetable to do anything for you.
Wouldn't hypnotizing her be more simple and less and gruesome?
But that's most probably your fetish.
She really is a pretty mare though.
>Good luck trying to get a vegetable to do anything for you.
She won't be a vegetable if the lobotomy isn't completely botched.
Of course. The thing a lobotomy has that hypnosis doesn't is you can't break her out of a lobotomy; you have to literally reconstruct the synapses in her brain to near perfection. Plus, I'm a bit of a sadist. Whipping/beating her with a belt until her stoicism breaks and she starts crying is top-tier fetish fuel.
But I draw the line at anything that will put visible marks on her, since I still want her to be pretty.
well, this was annoyingly difficult to write
>You aren’t just being a jerk.
>This isn’t the same Lauren you used to hang out with.
>She’s different. You both are, you’re willing to admit, but the Lauren you knew was never this maudlin.
>Lauren wasn’t always on edge like the woman hiding in your bed.
>She always tried to hide her feelings and put on a strong persona, always tried to keep everything back until she just couldn’t anymore.
>Always made it even worse when she finally did lose control.
>It was sudden. No warning.
>One second Lauren would be all smiles and sunshine, the next she was… like this.
>If you’d cared enough to think about it before now – if you hadn’t been so preoccupied antagonizing her – you would have noticed.
>This time… this time you had plenty of warning.
>You just hadn’t given a fuck.
“When did this become your thing, Lauren.”
>If she can’t answer, you can’t stay.
>It’s not as if you’re her friend anymore.
“Well, I’m going.”
>You spin on your heel and walk out, pausing just outside the door and reaching back in.
>Fingers brush against the light switch, casting the room into darkness.
“See you in –“
>”My second beer.”
>”It became a thing after my second beer,” Lauren answers, her voice muffled by the heavy blankets. “When I… when I realized…”
“That you’re a cunt?”
>“… that it’s *my* fault this happened to S-silver…”
>She doesn’t even acknowledge your jab.
>Well, fuck, now you feel bad about it.
>You sigh loudly and step back into the room.
“No, that’s not your fault, Lauren. I should have done something.”
>”Been three weeks since I finished payin’ off Trixie,” the woman mumbles, ignoring your halfhearted attempt to console her. “S’all my fault.”
>The bump under the blankets wiggles and shifts to one side.
>”First week they don’t meet their quota, they get beat,” Lauren answers slowly. “Second they don’t get fed. Third, they get… they get taken on a hunt.”
>You don’t see how that’s relevant.
>”Been three weeks since I worked with Silver. S’my fault,” she slurs. “I coulda stayed.”
>Worked with Silver?
>”I shoulda stayed. Bought her too. He woulda sold her.”
>You don’t know why you ask; you already figured it out.
>”I shoulda stayed, but I couldn’t.”
>There’s a tremble in her voice – from experience, that tremble tells you she’s crying.
>The blankets and the darkness hide the faint shivering, but she is.
>You know her too well, even after all these years.
>”I couldn’t make myself do that no more. I just couldn’t. I should have, but I *couldn’t*.”
“What did you do.”
>It’s not even a question. It’s not even spoken loud enough for her to hear.
>You know what she did, you just can’t quite believe it. Not without hearing it from her mouth.
>”I know – I know it was wrong,” she whines drunkenly, “l-leavin’ her like that. Ain’t no way shy lil’ Silver’d make her goals on her own!”
>The shaking is visible now – more than visible, even in the dim light from the hallway.
>It’s just like before, when she’d come to you after a bad day with her father.
>Under that blanket, she’s curled up on herself, shaking and crying.
>”No way she could, not – not after what that BITCH did to h-her.”
>Lauren is gasping for breath between the words, she’s crying so hard.
>You’re going to hate yourself in the morning.
>But as you walk towards the bed, you realize you don’t hate yourself now.
>That’ll change, though.
>You’re sure of it.
>”It’s all my fault,” Lauren moans softly.
“No, it isn’t.”
>You pull down the covers to reveal Lauren’s tear and snot streaked face.
>Her eyes are wide and trembling.
>”I – I thought you – you –“
>She’s still shaking, though she curls up to you when you sit on the bed.
>Instinctively, you run your fingers through her hair.
>It’s all you can do for her – hold her, comfort her, and listen.
“Why would you think that?”
>You can’t abandon a crying girl – pony *or* human.
>She should know this – despite evidence to the contrary, she should still know this.
>That time… it wasn’t your fault.
>”…I thought y-you’d hate me if you knew what I did…”
>She… she did what she had to do.
>It wasn’t her fault.
>You gently brush away her tears with the back of your hand.
“Why would I?”
>”… because of what you did last time…” she sobs. “Soon as you knew…”
>That – that wasn’t your fault.
>”… you ran off. Moved back to th’city. Figured it was –“
> - related.
>She stops before saying the word.
“That was… different.”
>Was it really?
>It’s what Lauren needs to hear you say.
>You sigh and let go of her – prompting the woman to make a desperate grab for your hands.
“Let me up. I need to get out of my clothes.”
>She shakes her head – but releases your hand just moments later.
>You kick off your boots and strip down to your undershirt and boxers.
>The two of you have shared a bed wearing less in the past, but that just wouldn’t be…
>Well, you’d feel uncomfortable doing that.
>More uncomfortable than you are now.
>Not to say that you a wave of contentment doesn’t run through you when Lauren’s wet body presses up against yours.
>Did she even towel off?
>The water has already soaked through her shirt and is making good progress on yours.
>It doesn’t matter.
>You don’t really mind.
>Nor do you mind the mess she’ll leave as she tucks her face in your chest.
>You loved her once – at least, you thought you did.
>Then you hated her, and now?
>As for the now… you aren’t really sure, but you’ll probably hate yourself in the morning.
>Less than you would if you’d walked away, though.
>You couldn’t have forgiven yourself if you’d done that.
>Be someone else – like the mare quietly sneaking up the stairs.
>You shouldn’t be doing this. That thought pounds in your mind over and over with every step you take.
>And though you know that, you also know you can’t *not*.
>You are alone.
>You are tired of being alone.
>The other ponies… they don’t know how lucky they are.
>The refugee boards did their honest best to keep families together.
>Too bad you didn’t have any family no more.
>That’s why you didn’t tell Anon no.
>Even if you *had* known what he meant…
>You shiver slightly at the thought.
>… you’re not sure you would have refused.
>You’re just so alone.
>And… and… horny.
>You shouldn’t be doing this.
>It’s a stupid idea.
>He’ll hate you.
>You don’t care.
>This isn’t the first time you’ve had these thoughts, but it’s the first time you’ve been able to act on them.
>Or more accurately, the first time you haven’t been able to stop yourself.
>Even though you realize it’s impossible, you hope he’ll…
>You’re not sure what you hope.
>Only that you want him inside of you.
>Not just because of *that*, but because… you think maybe you love him?
>That ain’t impossible, right? It ain’t just the hormones, because you were thinking that before you got hit with this.
>And… well… also… maybe you could pretend *it* is his.
>You shake your head at your own stupidity.
>Gotta be, otherwise…
>Nah, it’s impossible.
>But maybe you’ll convince yourself if you pretend hard enough.
>You miss having family.
>The lights are still on upstairs, so you proceed with even more care, though all you want to do is gallop down the hall until you find him.
>Drunk or not, *she* might still be awake, so you don’t.
>You don’t mind Lauren… not really.
>Nice enough, but…
>She reminds you of your sister and that stings.
>That woman is a constant reminder of what you’ve lost – and threatens to take more.
>Or maybe she could be…
>You don’t know.
>It’s all so confusing.
>Right now, you don’t know how you really feel half the time.
>All you can trust is what you knew before this started.
>You love him.
>You do, right?
>He treats you like a real person – more so than most of the other ponies.
>You slowly creep down the hall.
>All of the doors are closed, save one.
>That’s his, you think.
>You’ve never been up here, but you think that’s his, from the smell.
>It smells like him.
>It also smells like her.
>That… that doesn’t mean anything.
>You’re already convincing yourself of things you know are lies.
>Just gotta pretend hard enough.
>The lights are off in the room, but those in the hall illuminate the room just enough for you to see.
>Just enough for you to see him crawl into bed with Lauren.
>You pull away from the door, clutching at your barrel with both forelegs.
>You knew it, but no.
>He said he wasn’t.
>You *asked*, and he said he wasn’t going to be with her.
>He said he didn’t even want her here.
>You believed him.
>He said so, and you believed him.
>A tiny giggle escapes your mouth.
>You’re already so good at pretending, you believed him.
>Oh Celestia, you HATE this.
>You clutch your barrel tighter – partially to calm yourself, partially to –
>No, you can’t.
>Most mares do, you know, once they’ve cooled down.
>Nopony wants to bring a foal into this horrible world.
>The child you just know is growing inside of you is your only chance at a family now.
>A part of you recognizes it’s too early to know that.
>*Far* too early.
>The rest of you doesn’t care.
>In time, maybe you’ll even convince yourself it doesn’t matter who the father is.
>You just… you wish it could have been *him*.
>Silent tears slide down your face.
>You sit there, leaning against the wall for who knows how long before slinking down the stairs.
>A part of you knew it would end this way.
>You had hoped that part was wrong.
end for tonight
I CANT TELL IF I'M ANGRY OR DEPRESSED AT THIS POIN
ALSO I REALLY DON'T FEEL LIKE AB BEING PREGNANT IS A GOOD IDEA BECAUSE THAT FEELS LIKE JUST ANOTHER BLOW TO THINGS
I DON'T KNOW WHAT I WANT
I CANT EVEN MAN
I'M GOING TO DIE HERE
ya. Other than aj showing up and killing him instead of AB learning the truth. or both happening.
sigh. I have a feeling the ending is going to leave me sad and completely unsatisfied.
>300 more posts before I'm no longer a week behind in White Knight General
This is hitting me hard man.
>not relishing in the nearly unspoken glory that is Maud's thickly veiled, deep reservoirs of emotion
write someting about Celestia
if i am a cancer, i will kill you slowly
Skittles is on hiatus as of now folks, I have 2 80 hour work weeks back to back with no time off in between. I'll either see you the last week of this month or the first week of February.
You fucking faggot, just tell us already that the story is dead so we could let go of pointless hopes.
>Reading unfinished fanfics
You niggers knew exactly what was going to happen.
But you did it anyway.
You have no one to blame but yourselves.
>Master has been rubbing his hands all over you.
>Massaging your backside, and slowly trailing his hands up your leg to your...
>You thought you had been prepared, but as he ordered you to spread your legs you hesitate.
>You haven't even noticed that you have them clenched together that hard.
>It's Master Anon.
>He... he will be gentle with you.
>You know it...
>He... has to be.
>You shift in the tub a little before spreading your legs for him.
>Your heart was beating faster now.
>Good girl. He called you good girl again.
>You want to be a good girl for your new master, but internally you were very torn apart.
>He made you happy again.
>But with that happiness, this shimmer of hope for a better life, you can't help but realize in just what deep of a hole you had been in.
>And you could misstep at every turn, or be pushed back.
>You stopped smiling, and look back to your master.
>He's lifting up your tail.
>You narrow your eyes and look away.
>For a moment you had been excited about the outlook of having your mare bits washed seems only dull.
>You only gave an initial twitch as the sponge in his hand touches you.
>Facing front again you only look at nothing in particular.
>Wait it out.
>The prickling feeling you have had before he started was gone now
>Wait it out.
>You barely even realize he had called your name.
>“Are you okay?”
>You don't really know how to respond, but as he wasn't washing you any longer something escapes your mouth
“Are you done?”
single post flutterpov
better than genital mutilation, no?
Yes. But more pisswould be even better.
Hai guys. I've got shit to dump.
Anon's Birthday Present to Himself
>You be Anon
>Used to live classic NEET style, with piss jugs and everything.
>Now, you're not quite as lazy.
>You still spend most of your time shitposting on the internet, but you do leave your room every so often.
>Looking around for something to do, both in your house and on the interwebs.
>Hear newspaper hit your door.
>God that little shit was rude.
>Go to the door to pick up the pile of newspapers.
"What the hell, I don't have anything else to do anyway."
>Start reading through all of the useless bullshit
>Spot something interesting
"Small colorful equines for sale at 1234 House Address Road"
"Eh, might as well."
>It's so damn cold outside
>You almost go right back inside and continue being comfy.
>Get in car
"Shit I have to get gas"
>Finally arrive at address
>It's a farm.
>What's surprising, however, is that there are some weirdly-colorful, dog-sized equines in a pen near the farmhouse.
>You almost recognize what they are...
>They're from that little girl's show
>When you approach the house in your car, someone runs out of the door to greet you.
>Are you here about the ponies?
"Yep. If I may ask, what exactly are you selling them as?"
"Okay, whatcha got?"
>"You're not bothered by their being slaves at all?"
"Not in the least. Besides, if they can talk, then it should be fine to keep them as slaves because they're not human."
>"Well, when you put it like that..."
>"Well, if you come on over this way, I can show you what we got."
>"...and the ones with the horn on their head, which are called unicorns-"
"I know what unicorns are."
>"Well, the unicorns can do some sort of weird thing with their horn that lets them do levitation with their mind and stuff like that."
"Interesting. I see you have... five unicorns?"
>"Yes. This one here, the one with the white coat and purple mane is called Diamond. She doesn't like mud, and she does nothing but stand there and scowl at us all day."
>This purple one here, with the purple mane, this one is called Twinkle. She usually spends her time trying to get that contraption off of her horn. She's almost gotten it off a few times, so she's pretty smart and determined."
"It seems that you need a better way of keeping them contained."
"Sorry, please continue."
>"Okay, umm... this tannish one with the red mane, we call her Wail. She does nothing but scream all day, and we assume it's about how she thinks her life is so horrible."
"I'm definitely not taking that one..."
>"Okay. So this blue one with the white mane keeps prancing about and hitting all of the other ponies."
"Don't want that one."
>"Okay then. So this big turquoise one with the lime-colored mane here? Does nothing but nap all day. And-"
"Aaaand I don't want that one."
>"Okay then. Have you made a decision on which one you want?"
"Yes. I'll take the one that keeps trying to get loose. What was she called, Twinkle?"
>"Alright, sure! That'll be Five Hundred dollars, and I'll go get the paperwork inside."
>Five Hundred dollars?
>Good god these things were expensive.
>The pony you chose to buy is looking at you with a mixture of relief, excitement, and fear.
>All at the same time.
>A few minutes later, the guy selling the ponies walks out with a clipboard and pen.
>"Ahm' gonna need you to sign here, just for my personal documentation.
>It's a list of names, signatures, and price amounts.
>This guy is taking his pony-selling business pretty seriously.
>You sign off, and he leashes the purple unicorn, bringing it out to you.
>"Now, make sure to keep this contraption on her horn, or she might try to get away."
"Don't worry, I'll have that taken care of completely."
>"Alright then. Do you have what you need to transport her in the car?"
"I did go pick up a crate at the pet store on my way here, but I don't know if it's the right size. Can I go try it out real quick?"
>You walk the purple pony over to your car, and open the crate door.
>As you expected, she tries her hardest to stay out of the crate.
>It does seem as if her horn is a little sensitive, so you try wiggling her head around with it to get her to stop.
>Subdued, she backs into the crate.
>She seems to fit just fine, so you close the crate, then close the door of your car.
>"Alright, great! Now you just have to pay for her and you'll be on your way."
>Good thing you took $700 out of your savings account on your way here.
>You count out five one-hundred dollar bills, and hand them to the man.
>"Okay then, that's all! Thank you!"
"Thank YOU, sir."
>You both wave at each other, and get into your car to head home.
That's it for now.
Comments and criticism are appreciated.
Remember to comment, like, and subscribe
I want to bathe Fluttershy and rub her wings.
I mean, who wouldn't? Just look at her, she's the cutest little pegasus mare.
Cutest with the sweetest personality.
>Stop shaking so much Fluttershy, I'm not going to get a clean cut if you keep moving around like that
Pastebin for the story 'Jack'
Is there any story where pones and humans speak different languages and can't understand each other?
>>“Oh, i could swear i saw some weird animal. As if it was running just right in front of you...“
>you just raise your shoulders, like if you don't have any idea what he's talking about
>>“Well, but if you say so. Maybe i'm just seeing things.“ he laughs awkwardly
„Maybe it's just from the shock. Well, i'm sorry, but if you're really alright, i gotta go.“
>you quickly past him and speed on, searching for Sarah
>she must have hide somewhere, but it would be too obvious if you now shouted for her to come out
>so you just stop when out of the old man's sight and search
>it doesn't take long, because she notices you first and comes out by herself
>she was hiding behind some big tree
>“Anon!“ she whispers
„Oh, there you are. We should get going.“
>“I'm sorry i ran away without checking if you're alright. But i didn't hear a crash, so...“
„You did the right thing. Better than if he saw you again.“ you smile
>“And, what did he say?“
„Nothing much. It was just some old guy, no detective. I played dumb and he beleived me.“
>“Playing dumb, like denying?“
„Yup, he actualy thought it was just in his head.“
>“Really?“ she chuckles
>“That's so stupid and lucky at the same time.“ she laughs „So,..still wanna continue with the race?“
„Well, i do feel less safe with you here now, since we just met a human, but on the other side, maybe it's not that big of a deal as i thought. What will people do about it anyway? They probably ain't gonna straight away call cops or something. Think we'll just continue and if we run into someone again, you just go ahead and wait for me somewhere.“
>“Alright then.“ she walks with you to your bike, you left on the road
„Coming to think of it, maybe we could try to be less careful in trying to hide your existance. Not exactly by exposing you to everyone, but maybe it could be possible one day, to integrate you into our society. What do you think?“
>she looks a bit nervous, judging from her expression and her leg twitching a bit when you said it
>“I-i don't know. What if someone is gonna take me away? I'm not really sure about it...“
„You mean like the first time you got here?“
>she nods, with a gulp
„I don't think that would happen, and if someone tried, i'd cut the bastard open.“ you laugh „But there might be a risk of you, getting suddenly too much attention from people if you were revealed to them. Hard to say if the good kind of attention or bad one. You're basically an alien to us and then, i don't know what would happen. But guess our life wouldn't just stay the same.“
>“Couldn't we rather just keep me secret please? Anon, it's just so good now, i don't want it to change. “
>you pat her head and smile before answering
„Of course. It was just thought, don't worry. It was just because...what if you get bored of me one day? If you won't even have anyone else you could talk to, it would be only natural. You'll need at least some friends.“
>she stops and lifts her chin a in something that kinda looks like scrunch, but indicates probably something else
>“It's gonna be difficult. I know… I love you a whole lot. And i've been kinda avoiding this thought, that I won't have anyone else I could talk to for the rest of my life if I stay on Earth. Kinda waiting if the urge of needing someone else, like friends in my life, actualy comes... But so far nothing and maybe the solution just comes somehow naturaly. Maybe the problem never come,..I never really that many friends anyway…Could we just live on and enjoy the life when it's all beautiful, just the two of us?“
„As you wish Sarah. But you should tell me if you ever feel lonely. I could at least get you a cat or something.“
>“Thanks Anon...“ she smiles „...Now, which way next?“
(( continuing ))
>You had a dream
>Can't remember much about it
>You think it was more like a nightmare
>Your hooves were covered in blood
>It wouldn't come off
>And Anon was gone
>You ran all over the house
>Checking every room
>Except 'that' one, the basement door
>It was always locked
>You were about to run outside
>The floor-boards cracked open
>You fell into darkness...
>You woke with a fright
>You were still there under the blankets
>The fire had died down to embers
>Master was still there next to you
>His body so warm
>Breathing so gently
>His arm laying limp across your side
>You're just glad you didn't startle him awake
>You carefully check your hooves, pulling them out from the covers
>They're clean, of course
>It was just a bad dream...
>But memories from last night bubbled up into your sleepy mind
>'Why haven't you killed me yet?'
>'You can't love me.'
>There was somethin' deeply wrong with Master
>There was no mistakin' it now
>He nearly let it slip last night
>Keeping something bottled up inside
>You'd seen him crack before
>But didn't question it, just like a locked door
>If Master locks a door, you're not meant to go in
>But are you bein' foolish now, Jack?
>He'd opened up a little last night
>He wasn't drunk or nothin'
>Tired, sure, but...
>Does he want you to see more?
>You lay your head back down, and kiss his thigh
>Gently off to sleep again...
>You have a happy dream of your parents.
>Memories tucked deep in your own hidden places...
i think the best course of action for our anon here is to get her some temporary dye and make her look like a normal miniature horse
I just saw a couple carrying two pigs into the petsmart. If I had seen someone bring a miniature horse it at that point i wouldnt have even been surprised
Plus she could practice her horse noises
>Your shovel scrapes along the ground
>Master has ordered you to clear out a path to the road
"Those Pegasi dropped more snow than they ever do in Ponyville... Must be a group'a rookies in this town."
"Hmm. Maybe, Jack."
>Master comes outside
>Wearing his favorite jacket, and carrying a scarf
>He wraps it around your neck
"But it looks like it's no challenge for you."
>Your cheeks burn against the cold, blushing
>You grunt in affirmation as another shove-full of snow falls aside
>Master stands close behind you
>And decides that now is a good time to tease you...
>Tugging on your neatly tied up tail
>Feeling your muscled rump with his hand
>Tensing, contracting as you clear that snow
>Now more of you is starting to burn against the cold
"You're quite a work-horse. I love this body of yours so much."
"I'm glad, Master..."
>Jack, ask him what you wanted before we both get all worked up-
>But he slides two fingers up and down between the lips of your marehood
>A bolt runs up your spine, and the shovel slips, clanging against the ground
"Somethin' wrong, Jack?"
"N- No... It just slipped."
>Master has a chuckle and releases you...
"Well... pick it up and get back to work."
>Something strange gets deposited right into your cunt
>With a clicking sound, it starts to vibrate
>More clicks, it vibrates faster...
"I found something 'neat' at the market. Now... finish up before lunch-time, or I'm gonna serve you a spanking. Understand?"
>He gives a mischievous laugh
"This isn't gonna 'slow you down' at all, is it?"
"No... Nnno, sir."
"Good, I want the path to the barn cleared, too."
>Oh, fuck... Fuuck... Oooh~
"I'll be on the porch for a little while, finishing my coffee and, 'watching'."
>Your ass already starts to sting, struggling to hold the shovel steady and jam it into the next heap of snow
>Looks like you're in for it...
>You hadn't finished before noon.
>In fact, the sun was already casting an orange glitter across the fresh planes of snow
>Master called you inside at noon for 'lunch'
>Only to send you back out to finish
>Your rump tanned and sore
>He called you in again to make him supper
>The vibrator stayed in the whole while, a'course
>And even now, the path to the barn wasn't cleared yet
>Maybe if you hadn't been quite so 'preoccupied', with orgasm after orgasm
>Mewling like a bitch in heat all day long
>He calls you in for the last time
>Closing the door behind you
>Your eyes widen with hope as he touches your rear
>The vibrator finally gets pulled out
>You collapse to the floor, quivering
>Master chuckles softly, clipping your leash to your collar
>Pulling you over to the couch
>He places a tray of food on the floor for you
>Tugging harshly on your tail
>Holding your ass up before him
"There's your dinner, Jack. Bad mares don't get to eat at the table."
>You can't even process what's on the tray, before you feel his breath beneath your tail
"... Did you even finish?"
>You whimper with frustration
"Hmm. Not good, Jack~"
>Your flesh burns as his hands grip your reddened ass
>He spreads your marehood with his thumbs and licks
>Up and down, several times
>Then sucks on your soaked clit
"Mmph. My favorite desert~"
>You open your mouth to take a bite of food
>But agonized moans come out
>Sweet, sweet agony...
"I was going to give you some cum tonight, but... Guess it'll wait until tomorrow."
>Noo... Oh, cum, please, cum...
>It takes you a while to realize you're saying that out-loud
It's not like things are smiles and kittens for anyone else.
Just going from what has actually made it into the story:
Anon keeps getting thrown into situations he's emotionally and mentally incapable of dealing with and always ends up hurting everyone around him when he tries to solve those situations.
Lauren was abused by her father into her late teens/early twenties (assuming it's stopped at all), attacked by dogs when she saved Trixie, had to work at Sterling Stables to pay off her debt, abandoned her friend (Silver Spoon) when she just couldn't take it anymore, and is now blaming herself for everything that has happened to the mare since then.
Silver Spoon watched her town get destroyed, either lost or was separated from her family, lived in the horrifically under-supplied refugee camps until being sold to Sterling Stables, was whored out for several years, betrayed by her closest friend, abandoned by the next friend, beaten, starved, raped, mauled by dogs, and shot.
Yeah, I'll be nicer to Apple Bloom.
Oh god, I'm a monster.
Nah. She's not going to lose the child and even gets rescued by AJ at the end.
>Master left you in a twitching mess on the floor
>You came so much, there was a small puddle of your fluids
>He made you clean it up, of course
>With your tongue.
>At least you're finally able to eat
>But you're behind on your daily chores now, too
>You stuff your face with Master's deliberately bland meal
>And hop to your hooves, rushing to clean up around the place
>The dishes, sweeping, cleaning the counters...
>You 'are' a good mare... when Master ain't rigging things
>Maybe he'll be impressed with your work when he comes back
>Because you've got a real hankerin' for a good mouthful of hot, salty seed
>To hear him breathing so heavily
>To hear him growl your name like a hungry wolf
>Honestly though; how can you still be so horny after today?
>Maybe you're in season...
>Though all the ruttin' has kept you plenty sated, if you are
>Ugh, shake it outta mind and finish those dishes, Jack...
>You finish folding Master's clothes, and set them in the basket to carry upstairs
>That's when you notice...
>The basement door is ajar
>You freeze for a moment
>Could he be down there?
>You've never seen him go down since you've been here
>It's always been locked
>Your mind goes back to last night
"He... never said 'not' to."
"Then I'll tell you not to right now."
>You nearly jump outta your skin
>Master suddenly emerges, coming down the stairwell behind you
>He looks at you discerningly for a moment
>Then takes the basket off your back, sets it by the stairwell
>And pushes the door shut
>Locking it again
"Thank you for doing my clothes."
>You nod, when suddenly he grabs your chin, staring into your eyes
>A chill runs up and down your spine
"You are never to go down there."
>He holds your muzzle shut
>Not asking if you understand, not waiting for a nod or any confirmation
>His eyes practically carve the order upon your soul
>Then, just like that, it's over
>He's smiling again
>And you are... incredibly turned on