Chapter 2: Mind set free

-----”Caribou’s, or at least the males, were nothing but big, dumb, over-muscled freaks. Like seriously, some of them put Minotaurs to shame! Their small tails did look kind of funny when compared to the rest of their bodies. And their antlers? Mainly used to show their social position, odd and twisted in some cases. They usually adorned them with jewelry or gold. Why? The fuck if I know. I never bothered or cared enough to find out why.”

“Their armor was an entirely different story, though. Strong, sturdy, and beautifully crafted with engraved runes and symbols, some even to the point of being mistaken as something to show off instead of actual armor. They rarely wore it, though. They prefered to just use leather pants and bracers, showing off their body and usually wearing a unicorn mare’s horn around their necks as a sort of trophy. Damn fuckers.”

*Deep breathing*

“Sorry, back to their armor. It usually covered only their chests, or part of it, and their ugly dew claws and hooves. Their weapons, strangely enough, had nothing really impressive, aside from nullifying almost all magical energy around it, just like their armor.”

*Snickering*

“Almost. Anyways, they prefered hammers and other blunt weapons, mainly because they loved to take prisoners. But they adored the whip. Just…...not for combat.”

-Are you alright, Commander Soarin? You’re…..trembling. Do you wish to end the recording?-

“*Mirthless chuckle* Of course I’m not alright. Just talking about those fucking bastards makes me want to puke. Remembering what all of us had to go through………what we had to endure…...”

*Shifting noises*

“I sometimes can’t sleep, can’t eat. Tartarus, some days I can’t even get out of bed, not because of what we did to them, but of what they did to us, to our mares. To all of our females, regardless of their species. For what I…….what I did before I snapped out of their control.”

-It’s alright, Commander Soarin. You went through a horrible and traumatic experience, you’ve said enough already. We can stop now.-

“No, not yet.”

*Deep breathing for thirty seven seconds*

“Did I mention they were patriarchal, misogynistic, racist, sex-addicted assholes? Fuck, I hate them……... I think I’m done for today, if you don’t mind.”

-Of course.-

“Hey, wanna come to my place tonight? Me and some friends are gonna throw a party. No charge.”

*Chair shifts*

-What’s the occasion?-

*Door creaks open*

“The three month anniversary of the death of all Caribou, of course.”

*Door closes*-----

-----Commander Soarin of the Reinstated Equestrian Wonderbolts and Captain of the ‘Rise of Equestria’ Army, Report on the Caribou-----

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------“Ah known Spike since the first day he came tah Ponyville, four years before…..yah know. Cheerful little guy. Hard tah believe he was only four years younger than mah sister Applejack. He was always helpful and willing tah give a hand, or claw, to everypony that needed it.”

*Strained laugh*

“Not the brightest fellah around. Not of the bravest, either. He was kind of a coward, actually. Had the nicest heart in Ponyville, well, third nicest if yah count Pinkie and Fluttershy. But the little fellah was a strange one, wearin’ aprons, cookin’ and bakin’, doin’ stuff mares usually do around and the like. That kid didn’t had a bad bone in ‘im, even when his greed made ‘im big and nasty, he was still nice. Sort of.”

“We, in Ponyville, knew he could never hurt a fly, even if he wanted tah. That was Spike tah us. The nice, harmless dragon of Ponyville.”

*Sigh*

“Was.”

*Twelve second long pause*

“Ah’ve killed mah fair share of Caribou and Ah see no evil deed done in it. But Ah didn’t like it either. But Spike, he... he liked it. He took pleasure in doin’ it.”

*Ten second long pause*

“In battle, he killed those bastards fast, but he would still make it painful for ‘em. But what he did to the prisoners, if yah could call ‘em that, was far worse. What Ah did tah many of ‘em was justice. What others did was torture.”

“What Spike did to ‘em was... Ah don’t even know what tah call it. No one could. He never told what he did to ‘em inside his ‘Fun Room’ and Ah’m glad he didn’t. Just hearing the screams of those bastards, the laughter of Spike and the rippin’ sound of flesh was almost always too much tah handle.”

*Gurgling noise*

-General Macintosh!-

“Ah’m... *Gurgling noise*... Ah’m fine.” *Deep Breathing* “S-Spike always ended up bathed in Caribou blood, meat and… and other things. Always comin’ out smilin’.”

*Twenty second long pause*

“Ah don’t blame ‘im. We all suffered under the rule that fucker of a king, Dainn, had us in. But Spike had the worst part of it, in all ways. Ah see no sin or wrong no matter what he did to ‘em.”

*Sniffle*

“It’s sad, yah know? The nice, harmless dragon of Ponyville was broken tah his very core in ways Ah don’t want tah know. The Spike Ah knew, that little innocent guy Ah laughed and joked with, died the day the caribou came. What he went through…”

*Cry*

“In his place the Hero we begged for was born.”------

-------General Macintosh Apple of the ‘Rise of Equestria’ Army, Report on Spike Solaris ‘The Dragon’, ‘The Reaper’, ‘The Lightbringer’.-------

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Spike sat peacefully in his chair, all eyes on him, while he slowly drank a glass of water. Once he was done he placed the glass over the table and stretched a bit. He let out a loud, long-drawn yawn before looking up to the ceiling.

“Two years, three weeks, five days and eighteen hours. That‘s the time I spent under their control. Give or take a few minutes,” Spike began, his gaze lost in space. “Some may know now what names we gave to males and females, to help identify certain groups among our ruined and raped nation.”

Looking down he set his eyes on the cervidae judge. “The first, and most common conformed mostly by males, was the group I belonged in during that time. We called them ‘Enslaved’. It was slightly different for males and females, each of the four groups were. For males it meant that the caribou brainwash had snared one’s mind into a state of ‘bliss’, where that shitty-ass voice would always tell you everything was fine and that things were as they should be.”

“For females, well, the voice said pretty much the same thing, but it would also tell them how unworthy and low they were. That their only purpose in life was to be used by any male in any way they demanded. Any male.”

Spike shifted his gaze to the minotaur judge. “The second group were the ‘Corrupted’. Unlike the Enslaved, who still had their own minds—just with that fucking voice whispering to you clouding your judgment and actions, making you believe and accept what it said as the only truth—the Corrupted had their minds taken over by the, well, corruption of the Caribou. Males would completely act and think like those fuck--”

“Enough with your swearing, Mister the Dragon!” The Diamond Dog judge growled. “At least have the decency to speak like a civilized being.”

Spike shot a quick glance to the judge. “Make me,” he said quietly, then his gaze returned to the minotaur judge, uncaring for the growl the Diamond Dog judge shot at him. “As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted, males would completely act and think like those fuckers, their true minds lying dormant inside them. The females would turn into totally submissive red collars, or purple ones.” His gaze turned to the dragon judge.

“The third, and thankfully the scarcest, group were the ‘Embracers’. Fucking backstabbing traitors that welcomed what they called ‘True Heaven’ those shit eating caribou bastards brought with them. Mostly conformed by males but there were some females, too. They sold out their own families, friends and foes alike, just to have a place among the Caribou.” Spike smiled gleefully. “Glad they were so easy to sort out from the rest.”

Spike shifted his gaze to the ursa judge. “The last group were the ‘Fakers’. They were either completely immune to the brainwash or had broken out of it. One of every twenty males was a Faker. One of every three females was a Faker.” Spike’s eyes flashed white light for a second or two, his hands forming fists. “The Fakers had the worst part of it. Males pretending to be under the brainwash, no matter what, if they wanted to give at least a bit of protection to their loved ones. The punishment for being caught was either death or be turned into a female.”

“Females, though, they couldn’t do anything beside fight back with all their strength and resist.” His hands began to tremble. “They were mostly black collars. Very few had the infinite luck to be silvers and some even were brave enough to fake being reds, waiting for a chance to escape and/or kill their ‘masters’. But the Caribou, those fucking assholes, they loved breaking black collars. Turning them into purples, literally fucking them to death or worse.”

His hands stopped trembling and his gaze was once again lost. For several seconds, the dragon didn’t say anything or move an inch of his body, except for his tail that moved every few seconds from one side to the other. The judges shared worried glances before leaning in a bit, just to see the purple dragon up-close.

“Some Enslaved,” he said suddenly, making the judges jump back in their seats, “that broke through the brainwash had a very explosive initial reaction. Me included.” Spike fell silent again for almost ten seconds.

“It was Friday, something around ten in the morning, I don’t remember checking the hour. I woke up, then woke Twilight up and let her out of her cage. She yawns and greets her master, I fuck her throat, like every morning since becoming my pet. I finish, she drinks my cum, I go get her mare kibble and a bowl of water, she eats her breakfast and I eat mine. Bacon and eggs with a glass of the sweetest mare-milk.” Spike frowns and bares his fangs, smoke leaking his nostrils.

“I check up on the rest of my pets in training in the castle basement. After that Twilight gets everything ready for ‘Twilight-Cunt Time’. I leave the castle and… and...” His expression changed back into a more neutral expression, except for his eyes, that showed nothing but hate, pain and misery. “And the second best day of my life begins.”

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*Ponyville, Second year of the Fall*

“Yet a new wonderful day where stupid bitches know their proper place and male superiority shows its power!”

Yeah, Spike thought as he walked through the streets of Ponyville, smelling the now very common scent of sex in the air. It’s great and all but---

“Are doubting your power, your rights as a male?”

O-of course not!

“Then embrace the light!”

Spike sighed loudly. Right from the start of the Fall, he knew he wasn’t quite the ideal ‘Male’ he was supposed to be, like his Caribou superiors. But he wasn’t one of those blaspheming ‘Heretics’ or a misguided rebel. Dainn forbid him to be one of those ‘Pro-Mares’ idiots! He was a male, and proud to be, too!

He had worked hard becoming the best mare handler in Ponyville, going par to par with Big Macintosh in that regard. He was eternally loyal to king Dainn, male superiority, and the caribou, that much was certain. But there was something deep inside him, something he couldn’t quite find. He was ashamed to admit, and would actually rather die than to bring disgrace to his brothers if they found out, that he felt pity... and guilt for what mares, and females in general, had to go through each day.

But it didn’t make any sense to him. His memories even before the Fall were of his male brothers abusing and treating females like the toys and tools they were. He was one of the few males that was treated as ‘second rate’, even by the females, especially his pet bitch, Twilight and her other five so called friends. The Fall had just ensured proper control over Equestria and nothing more. Now he was a first class citizen. Everything felt good, everything was fine, everything was perfect.

“And yet I feel like this. Why can’t I be a true male, even though I try so hard to be!” he muttered through his teeth.

“I’ve told you, you’re doing nothing wrong, you’re just taking your rightful place as a male in Equestria. And soon, the entire world will see the light, too!”

Spike smiled, yet that horrible feeling in his gut made its presence every time the voice of his king spoke to him. He was so fortunate, every male was, to have the voice, a fraction of their beloved and powerful king, inside them. They were truly blessed. And lucky, in his case, it couldn’t spread out his secret, his shame.

“S-stay back! Get a-away from me, you pigs!”

The sudden shout of a panicked mare caught his attention, pulling him out of his thoughts. Stopping for a moment to see what was going on, he soon saw, just a couple of meters away from him, a white coated mare with red mane and tail pressing her back against the wall of a house. She was wearing a red collar, the lack of wing-sheaths and horn stump make it clear she was an Earth Pony mare. There were tears falling from her eyes, hate and fear pouring out of them. She was using a kitchen knife to fend off three of her caribou masters, who were smiling at her silly attempts of ‘self-defense’.

Giving a quick look around he saw several other males. Caribous, stallions, donkeys and even a griffon stopping their daily activities, with one or two of their pets by their side crawling like good bitches, to see what all the fuss was about. Many laughed while others shouted insults at the mare for fighting against her vastly superior male masters.

Spike glanced at the mare for a second, suddenly remembering her. As he watched her futile struggle, his eyebrow arched a bit. Yesterday, that same mare had come for an advance class of ‘kinky bondage’. She was a great bitch and a good pet, one of the best, actually. She was close to graduating as an A-Class cunt. But now she was rebelling against the caribou. It happened from time to time, good pets and cunts suddenly transforming into disrespectful and disobedient sluts. It was blasphemy! Heresy!

He was about to shout an insult when one of the caribou lunged at her trying to grab her hands. She swung her weapon randomly in front of her, managing to cut the caribou enough to draw blood. There was a collective gasp as everyone froze. The caribou didn’t look happy, at all. But before he, or anyone else, could do anything she plunged the knife deep at one side of her throat before slashing all the way to the other side in a swift motion. There was another gasp, this one a bit louder than the previous one.

The mare fell to the ground, her arms and legs twitching as a pool of blood formed beneath her.

“Such a waste of good cunt,” one of the caribou said. “Let’s call cleaning services.”

“Yeah,” the one bleeding slightly from an arm said. “but after we visit the public stocks. I NEED to fuck a slut right now.” the bulge in his pants didn’t lie.

“Totally. I heard the stocks today have a few new mares, and some were rebels! One is even, and I’m not lying here, a changeling! Haha!” the third one added as they turned around and walk away. Just like everyone else did, ignoring the body of the still twitching mare on the ground.

“No way! Being too long since I fucked one of those whores. I gotta try the cunt, too!” the first one said before all three of them breaking in laughter.

Spike stood still watching the mare twitch less and less, until she finally stopped. He could hear moans of pleasure, gagging noises, cracks of whips, shackle of chains and yelps of pain coming from all around him. It took no genius to figure out the reasons why. The dragon stood there for about a minute before he then turned to continue on his way. He had better things to do. He didn’t feel sorry for that mare, since she deserved death for injuring one of her masters. Her corpse forgotten by everyone else as they went on about their day. She deserved no less.

Then why was he crying? He had no idea, maybe something was stuck inside his eyes, again.

---------------------********************

*Sweet Apple Acres*

Spike arrived at the farm like usual. He saw a few warbeasts in the distance, no doubt keeping an eye on work-sluts tending the fields, fuck-bucking apple trees or harvesting the rape-vines. He chuckled; the warbeasts were impressive: big, strong, resilient, and trained to obey their caribou handlers to perfection. The perfect guards in many aspects, yet docile enough to not kill females, just knock them out if they tried to run away or something similar.

Soon enough he reached his destination, the Apple Family house.

“You here, Big Mac?” Spike called entering through the main entrance of the house.

“Howdy, Spike,” the red stallion wearing a white shirt and blue pants greeted from his spot in the sofa. He smiled at Spike before he took a generous swig from the beer can in his massive hand. “Need more mare kibble, Ah suppose?”

“Yeah, and I also need five or six blocks of straw.” Spike took a seat on the couch across from Mac. “My pets have been good these past two weeks, I think they earned a little treat and clean cages.”

“Of course.” Big Mac snapped his fingers with his free hand. A couple of seconds later a red collar wearing Cheerilee crawled her way from behind the sofa Big Mac was, to where Spike was sitting.

“Cock?” the ex-school teacher asked.

“Thanks man, but I’m not in the mood for a blowjob right now,” Spike said just before catching a can of beer. “Now, a drink I can’t refuse.” He opened the can and drank the whole can in one go.

The red stallion shrugged “Suit yerself,” he said before taking another sip out of his beer. Once he was done he whistled and Cheerilee crawled back behind the sofa.

“Ah! That was good!” Spike said finishing his drink. His eyes drifted downward to see the can. It had no name, just the image of Celestia sucking Dainn’s cock in one side and in the other the image of Luna’s ass being fucked by Dainn. He smiled despite the sudden urge to throw up that hit him. He loved that beer but his stubborn stomach didn’t like it so much.

“Heard there was another ‘incident’ near the markets,” Big Mac said calmly.

“Word travels fast, I see. First time I’ve seen it in person, actually. Real nasty, but that bitch deserved it.”

Big Mac just nodded.

“Any word on your bitch little sister and your worn out granny?” Spike asked.

“Nothin’ since the Fall began, sadly.” Big Mac said before taking another sip from his beer.

There was a moment of silence. “How’s Applejack?” Spike asked. It was so strange to him. Twilight and the rest of the once Elements of Harmony and the ex-princess pony sisters were the only mares he referred to by their old names. No matter how hard the tried he couldn’t just directly call them bitches, sluts, whores, cunts or any other name worthy to describe their filth. At least he could call Twilight by the names she truly deserved in the privacy of his castle.

“Fine.” The stallion took his last sip from the beer before smashing the now useless can, dropping it to the ground. “She’s in the barn, workin’ on the new cages and work-bars.”

Spike sighed. “I know she was your sister and all, but you really shouldn’t let Applejack, a black collar slut at that, be in charge of anything. She’s in deep shit for trying to escape four times and fighting back against her masters as it is.” Spike looked at Big Mac right in the eye. “You’re lucky the caribou let you keep her after all that. Even if she is an Ex-Element of Harmony.”

“She’s loyal tah me,” was his answer. Spike sighed again. “Ah’ll get her tah round up yer stuff right away,” he said as he stood up.

“Nah, I’ll get the straw myself. I don’t trust any black collar to do anything for me. Not even Applejack.” Spike stood from the couch. “It’s also in the barn, right?”

Big Mac nodded. “Ah’ll get yer kibble then, meet yah at the barn,” the stallion said before going to the kitchen.

Spike turned around and left the house. Soon enough, he passed the fences and approached the barn, the closer he was the louder a couple of voices were heard coming from inside the barn.

“Get yer filthy hands off of me, yah fuckin’ vermins!” Applejack snarled, followed by grunts, a few moans and laughter.

“I love how much this cunt tries to fight back. Really turns me on!” said a caribou.

“Too bad we can’t break her like the stupid pink whorse. Why can’t your empty head understand you’re nothing but an inferior female? Just look at your red collar ‘friends’; they seem to embrace their rightful place below our hooves very well.” another caribou said mockingly.

Spike walked inside the barn, unnoticed by the caribou. He saw Applejack being held in the air by her wrists by a hulking caribou, while the other groped one of her tits and had his other hand buried between her legs. The orange mare had a black collar around her neck and nothing else over her well shaped and muscular body. Her once inseparable stetson hat forgotten for two years in some dark corner. She was blushing hard but her expression reflected pain, hate, and shame as the caribou had their way with her.

This… this is wrong, Spike thought, seemingly frozen in his place.

“It’s as it should be!” the voice said making Spike take a few steps forward.

“Ah s-said let *moan* go of me!” In a swift, and rather hard, kick the caribou holding her up let go of her in a very high pitch scream. Now using his free hands to hold to his injured zone, Applejack fell to the ground with a grunt.

“You bitch!” said the other caribou before kicking her in the stomach so hard it lifted her completely in the air for a second or two. Applejack let out a hollowed scream of pain. “How dare you” *another kick* “attack” *another kick* “your masters!?” This time instead of kicking her, he grabbed a handful of her mane and lifted her in front of his face.

Spike saw the tears forming in her eyes and the trickle of blood running down the mare’s mouth. She was going to get beaten hard, he was sure of it.

I… I... I have to help her! Spike screamed inside his head.

“You have to punish her and remind that slut of her place in the dirt!” the voice screamed back at him. Spike took another step forward, still unnoticed by either the caribou or the mare.

The caribou spit on her face before punching her with his free hand. Applejack let out a pained cry as tears finally started running down her face. Her left cheek was now visibly red by the blood the powerful hit drew from her skin below the fur. The caribou let go of her mane just enough to make her kneel in front of him. He opened his pants, then cock-slapped her before rubbing his semi-erect cock all over her face.

A burning fire suddenly erupted inside Spike. He had seen mares getting beat down and being punished like this several times, but he had never done so himself, nor he had seen one of his former ‘friends’ on the receiving end in front of him before. He bared his fangs for some reason.

“What are you waiting for? Go there and teach that bitch a lesson!”

“See this slut!? This is what you obey, what you must worship!” the caribou cock-slapped her again. “You ponies are so fucking annoying, thinking you’re so special because you have ‘special talents’. Your only special and true talent is to suck dick, you fucking bitch!”

Applejack coughed a bit of blood before shooting her tear-filled eyes up to the caribou, wishing nothing but the worst upon her captor. “F-fuck you,” she rasped.

The caribou laughed at her petty resolve to fight him. “What a nice idea, bitch,” he said as he pushed her back harshly. A moment later he was on top of her one of his hands holding both her hands up by her wrists. His cock, now fully hard, pressing against her vagina.

Spike heard Applejack take a deep, almost horrified breath just before---

“GYAAAAHH!” The orange mare screamed loudly. The caribou hilted himself in one hard, painful motion. Applejack continued to scream while the caribou raped her hard and fast.

“Fucking… bitch,” the other caribou said, finally letting go of his injured balls. “I’ll teach you a lesson you won’t forget. I don’t care if you’re some kind of national prize!” the caribou shakily got up picking up a warhammer with his hands. “You don’t need those fucking legs anymore.”

‘Applejack!’

“Her name is cunt! She’s getting what she deserves for being a bad pet.”

‘No! She’s my friend, not an animal or a thing!’

“She’s just a lowly female! Act like a male, go there and punish her, too!”

“Ahh---N-no! P-p-p-please!” Applejack managed to scream out between thrusts.

‘This is wrong! This… this isn’t me!’

“This is the real you, what you thrive to be, what you deserve to be. A true male!”

‘I... I don’t… G---get out of my head!’

“Listen to reason! You are happy, everything is fine. This is paradise, our paradise!”

‘This is Tartarus! Get out of my head, I have to help Applejack!’

“Hold her steady, bro. I need a clear shot to break the cunt’s legs off,” the hulking caribou said, readying his warhammer for the blow.

“Fuck *pant* y-you got it, bro. Damn, this cunt is tight!” the caribou raping Applejack huffed. The mare tried to say something but the caribou punched her again, silencing her. “Shut up, cunt!”

‘Let me help her, dammit. She needs me!’

“Can’t you see she’s enjoying being used and punished like she deserves? She knows her place!”

‘I... I... M-maybe you’re right.’ Spike thought, making the fire inside him begin to die down. ‘Yeah, you must be. I’m sorry for---’

“HELP ME!” Applejack managed to shout as hard as she could just before being punched again by the caribou raping her.

The other caribou had her left leg in between his thighs, his warhammer raised above his head. “Oh, I’m about to help you.”

Suddenly the fire inside him exploded with a force he thought impossible. Everything inside him burned. His blood, his muscles, his heart. Everything, including the dark whispering voice of Dainn. The voice became weaker and weaker, until it was completely and utterly gone. His mind turned completely white, nothing around him made sense. Except for the uncontrollable urge to hurt something big, furry and brown. The same kind of something that was in front of him right now. Then he snapped.

“GRRAAAAHHHH!” Spike shouted furiously at the same time his legs moved him forward.

Both caribou stopped dead in their tracks to see what was the source of the shout was. The one violating Applejack barely managed to turn his head enough to see a series of claws centimeters away from his face. The claws slashed through flesh, muscle, and bone easily across most of his face. Unfortunately for the caribou, it was not enough to kill him.

“YEEEEERRRRR----HMPFH!” The caribou had only a moment to scream his agony before his body was suddenly tackled to the side with enough force to send him flying two meters away from the mare.

Spike shifted quickly above the caribou once they hit the ground and a block of hay. Sitting on the caribou’s stomach, and uncaring for the caribou’s petty attempts to cover his face, he proceeded to hack and slash repeatedly through the caribou’s head, chest and arms with his bare claws.

Something very heavy and hard suddenly hit the dragon in the right side of his head.

The hulking caribou stood behind Spike, his arms holding firmly the wooden pole of his warhammer, now destroyed upon hitting with all his strength the scales of the dragon. The caribou pulled up his now useless wooden pole with disbelief. An angry snarl made him look down again, and what he saw made him jump back a few steps.

The dragon was looking up at him with eyes that promised only pain and death. The broken scales and the trickles of blood running down the side of his face and snout, only added points to his already animalistic look. Before the hulking caribou could scream or run, Spike turned around and lunged at the caribou with a speed that would make Rainbow Dash proud. The hulking caribou found himself in the floor a second later, his throat smashed between the fangs of the dragon on top him while the dragon’s claws dug deep inside the sides of his abdomen.

Spike let go of the caribou, spitting out the blood and meat inside his mouth. A moment later he used his claws to rip to shreds the chest of his newest victim. Once he was satisfied he stopped, his breathing rapid and harsh. He heard movement at his left side and turned his head.

“S-Spike?” Applejack whispered. She was holding the injured side of her face with one hand while her legs closed her ravaged marehood. Spike took several heaving breaths as the adrenaline left his body, never breaking eye contact with Applejack. For a few seconds neither moved. Then Spike turned to look at his hands and claws; bathed with caribou blood and covered with meat and fur. He moved to the side and away from the corpse, his rage induced trance now dying, but his mind still unable to fully comprehend what was going on.

“Y-yer a----”

“What the fuck!?” both mare and dragon turned their attention to the entrance of the barn. A caribou soldier stood at the entrance to the barn, eyes wide. He brought up a whistle to his mouth, took a hasty deep breath and then a sound of something heavy came from behind him. The eyes of the caribou shifted to the back of his head before falling to the ground with a loud thud.

Spike and Applejack watched the guard fall to the ground, then looked back at the door. Big Macintosh scanned the room for a moment or two, his expression neutral and unreadable. He moved forward, tossing a big wooden lug inside the barn carelessly. Grabbing the unconscious caribou by his antlers, Big Mac dragged the body inside the barn completely. Once inside, he let go of the caribou and returned to close the doors.

With the doors now closed, Big Mac moved close where his sister was, ignoring the confused Spike altogether. The stallion touched his sister’s injured cheek softly before touching her forehead with his own. Both siblings closed their eyes for a moment that seemed eternal to the dragon watching them. Opening their eyes again the stallion got up, helping Applejack in the process. The mare got up holding her stomach, groaning and grunting in pain.

“Can yah move?” Big Mac asked.

“Y-yeah,” Applejack answered. “Ah can s-still make it.”

The stallion nodded before turning to his right to see the corpse of the caribou that had raped his sister. Without a word he walked over to the far wall of the barn, where several farming tools hung from nails in the wood. He retrieved a pair of leather gloves, a scythe, and a sharp fork-like hand tool with curved ends. He came back to where the first corpse lay. His eyes scanned the body for several seconds before a deep scowl etched on his face. Raising the fork-like tool above his head, he hit the caribou a couple of times with it, ripping his already destroyed flesh even more. After several hits he stood up and walked to the second corpse. Big Mac shared a brief glance exchange with the dragon before doing the same with the hulking corpse.

Deeming his job finished, he walked to his sister and presented her the handle of the tool. She took it instantly, gripping it several times in different places. Once she was done the stallion tossed the tool towards the second corpse. Turning around he walked to where the unconscious caribou lay. He rolled the hulking body onto its side with ease, then he brought up the scythe then slashed it down, almost cutting the head of the caribou clean off. The body spasmed as blood squirted out of his neck, repeating the motion he finished cutting-off the head of the caribou.

Big Mac returned to his sister, offering the scythe’s handle. After Applejack was done handling it, Big Mac tossed the scythe at the third corpse, impaling the tip of the curved blade in the stomach of the caribou. The siblings shared a moment of silence looking at each others eyes. Big Mac offered a wan smile just before walking behind Applejack.

Spike followed the red stallion with his eyes as he pulled at a nearby rope hanging from the second floor of the barn. There was a cracking noise for a moment, then three boards at the back of the barn lifted up, creating a passage just wide enough for a pony to walk through it. He couldn’t see it very well from his position, but it seemed to go under the barn. Where it ended up he had no idea.

Applejack walked to the opening, looked back to see her brother then at Spike, she smiled.

“Thanks.”

“Say hello tah Applebloom and Granny fer me, will yah?” Big Mac said getting a nod from his sister in return. She looked to the front again and started to walk away. Once she was past the bushes dividing Sweet Apple Acres and the Everfree, Big Mac let go of the rope, making the boards fall into place again followed by a clicking noise. The red stallion tossed the hanging end of the rope to the second floor, then he walked over to where Spike was sitting and looked down at him, still with that same neutral expression.

“Come,” Big Mac said before turning around, making his way to where the wooden log lay, hefting it up and tossing it to the second floor of the barn. He kept on walking until he reached a fairly big wooden cargo box near the wall he picked the scythe from. He kneeled in front of it and waited for Spike to catch up with him. Once Spike was behind him, his eyes glancing his hands and claws reflecting confusion and fear, Big Mac let out a huff of air and pulled the box up until it carefully flipped over.

Kneeling down again Big Mac searched for something in the dirt, soon enough he found what he was looking for and puller two thick wooden bars from below the dirt, revealing a dark hole below them.

“Jump down. Go tah the light in the end. Gotta clean up here first,” the stallion said calmly. Spike glanced the hole for a few seconds, then he did as he was told and jumped down the hole. Once he hit the bottom he looked up to find Big Mac staring down at him about half a meter above him. “Go. Ah’ll meet yah on the other side,” he said before putting the two wooden bars back in their place, making a bit of dirt fall over him and cut off what little light there was to begin with.

Darkness surrounded the dragon for a moment. Once his eyes adjusted, he saw a distant spot of light almost directly in front of him. The sound of the cargo box landing above where he was made him start to walk forward. His pace was slow but steady, the increasingly distant sounds of movement behind and above him reassuring him to continue on. The tunnel was spacious enough to let him walk without crouching, but just wide enough to let him through at all. A caribou was sure to be unable to walk through it.

“Caribou,” he whispered, he wondered why that word seemed so familiar and instantly his mind stung him, painfully. “Arrggg--” he protested shaking his head a bit, but never stopping his walk. Almost a minute later he reached the spot of light and the end of the tunnel, the spot turned out to be a glass covered hole. He tried looking into it but everything was blurry. With nothing else to do Spike decided to wait.

His wait was short lived. Around two minutes later he heard distant hoofsteps coming from above him. They stopped for a moment then resumed their march, only this time there were two sets of hoofsteps. A door opened followed by a few more steps, the door closed and now the hoofsteps sounded like the owner was going down stairs. And getting closer to him. He heard steady hoofsteps again approaching to where he was, stopping almost in front of him.

“Yah there, Spike?” said Big Mac.

Spike? The nude mare had call him that, too. His name was Spike? “Arrgggg!” There was that stinging pain again, this time stronger. He shook his head harder erasing the pain again, barely noticing the noises coming from the other side of the wall. Something opened in front of him and light flooded the tunnel he was in, blinding him for second or two.

“Easy there, fellah,” Big Mac said letting Spike walk out of the tunnel. “Clean yerself there.” He pointed to a big metal basket filled with water.

Spike made his way to the metal basket, kneeled and dipped his arms into the water. He instantly noticed it was hot and, for some strange reason, made purple bubbles around his arms. He used his hands and claws to wash away the fur,meat and blood clinging to his scales, the ‘water’ making it incredibly easy to do so.

In less than a minute his arms were clean, free from any stains and smell. Seeing his reflection in the ‘water’ he noticed the blood stains in his mouth and neck. He decided to clean those, too. One he was done Spike felt something land on his left shoulder; a towel now lay on his shoulder, and he began to dry off. Now dry, he turned around to examine the room he was in. It was somewhat brilliant thanks to a series of small windows in the upper side of the right wall. He also noticed a stairway made out of wood, the floor and the walls were made of stone but the ceiling was made of wood. Looking around the room he saw the red stallion near the tunnel he had come out from, he was doing something judging by the sound of it but couldn’t see what.

The room he was in was spacious, but aside from the place he had come out from, the metal basket, a nearby stone chair, two more wood chairs and a couple of barrels there wasn’t much to see. The sound of something being closed caught his attention again. He turned to see what was going on and saw Big Mac checking the sides of a big painting of a sun mixed with a crescent moon wrapped in chains. The symbol was familiar for some reason but it made him feel incredibly angry and guilty at the same time. This time instead of pain, he felt there was a hollowed out hole in his chest.

This emptiness… it feels worse than the pain, he thought, bringing up one of his hands to touch his chest, just to make sure there was no hole in it.

Something warm touching his shoulder made him jump. He looked at his shoulder finding a red hand on it. The stallion smiled weakly at him, patted his shoulder a couple of times and then walked to the stairs. Just as he was about to go up, the door above opened. A somewhat darker shade of pink coat colored nude mare walked past Mac, carrying a white box and some other object the drake couldn’t identify. She hurried down the stairs and knelt down at Spike’s side, appraising him with a worried gaze.

“Go and sit down, please,” she said, pointing at the stone chair engraved in the wall.

Spike obeyed, the emptiness in his chest growing each time he looked at the nude mare. He sat down and the mare kneeled in front of him, putting the white box and the other object at her side. She gently touched his face, most likely to check on his injuries that, up until that point, he had ignored. His eyes searched for the stallion near the stairway but didn’t find him.

“This might hurt a little,” the mare warned before letting go of him and opening the white box Inside were many flasks, bottles and bandages. She picked up a brown bottle, opened it, poured some of its contents into a piece of cloth laying beside the box and brought it up, carefully pressing and cleaning the injured side of Spike’s face. He winced a little but let the mare continue her work. “You’re lucky to be a dragon, Spike. A normal pony would’ve died.”

“I guess,” Spike said. He focused on her face for a moment, he then frowned. “I know you, but I can’t remember why.” The mare looked at him in the eye and smiled sweetly at him. “Same goes for the stallion, the mare in the barn, and... me. You say my name is Spike?” The mare said nothing as she continued to clean his wounds.

About half a minute later the door upstairs opened, and the red stallion stepped inside, closed the door and walked down the stairs. The mare deemed her work finished and moved the box and the other objects aside and got up to grab one of the nearby chairs to sit in. Big Mac walked over to Spike and placed something in front of him. He then grabbed a chair of his own, sat down and let out a loud sigh of relief.

“What’s with the bucket?” Spike asked glancing down at the empty bucket in front of him.

“Yer gonna need it.”

Spike glared at the bucket for a short time, then sighed and looked up to see the pair of ponies sitting in front of him. Seeing the mare wearing nothing but a red collar made the already empty hole in his chest grew larger and larger.

“Why… are you naked?” He asked, trying his best to look at her in the eyes, mostly to avoid making that horrible feeling any stronger.

The mare didn’t even bother to cover her exposed breasts, instead she clenched her hands into fists. Big Mac touched her right shoulder, but he never met her eyes. The mare began to tremble as hot tears began to fall from her eyes. Her eyes open, refusing to close and relive the nightmares she had to endure since the start of this new Tartarus.

The dragon, for his part, felt even worse the moment she started to cry. Something inside him was practically screaming at him to get up and hug the poor mare that had tended to his wounds. Another part told him to leave and run away, to get as far as he could and never look back. He chose the later.

“I… I should go,” Spike said and moved to get up but a glare from the stallion froze him in his tracks. “I, uhhh, I didn’t mean to m-make you cry, miss. But I really gotta go. Thank you for, ummm, helping me, but I... I...” His mind was working hard to create an excuse and get out of there, fast. “I think someone is calling my name, yeah. Maybe Twilight----”

The moment that name left his mouth everything went white and his mind cleared. He felt as though something had just hit him hard enough to send him flying straight into the sun. He could see it all.

His days as a true baby dragon being taken care of by Celestia.

All the training and private lessons he had went through under her and many private teachers.

The day he discovered his fire breath was magical and connected both him and his mother together.

The day he met Twilight Sparkle.

The days they spent together playing and learning.

The day he became her ‘Assistant’.

All the letters, books and long hours of study and work.

His days with Twilight’s family and Cadance.

Their first day on Ponyville and the five unique mares they met.

The return of Nightmare Moon and her defeat.

The mission his mother gave him during the following party.

Their adventures and misadventures.

The Gala.

The return of Discord, their almost defeat and his subsequent downfall.

His greed-induced transformation.

The wedding and the changeling invasion.

The return of Sombra and the Crystal Empire. Sombra’s death and him seen as a hero.

Discord’s freedom and reformation.

The ascension of Twilight.

The Tree of Harmony.

The Equestria Games.

The return of Tirek, Discord’s betrayal and redemption and Tirek’s defeat.

The birth of the Castle of Harmony.

The peace that ruled for a whole year.

The silence of the Crystal Empire.

The sudden all-out invasion of Equestria in all fronts by the Caribou.

The beginning of the Fall and his cowardice.

What Twilight had become in just a couple of hours.

The cries of pain, desperation, torture, agony, and the countless deaths that followed during the first days of the Fall.

The females and males committing suicide rather than suffer their fates under the caribou rule.

How all bordering and foreign nations, once sworn allies of Equestria, ceased and closed all trade and relations with them.

What all females suffered under the ‘male superiority’ that ruled over them.

The dozens of mares he had used and trained to be proper ’pets’.

What his friends, mother and family had been turned into.

What he had done to Twilight, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy and Rarity. How much he enjoyed it.

Everything the Caribou did to his home and the Crystal Empire. How they had raped them in all and every way imaginable.

Everything he had done, said, thought, experienced, and seen up until that morning. And how he did nothing to help or fight back.

All of his memories flashed before his eyes in less than a second. He fell forward from his sitting position, barely stopping his fall with his hands. His breathing was fast, harsh and hollowed, he could barely feel his own heart-rate. Without any kind of warning from his stomach, it crunched and expelled its contents. The first glob of bile and stomach contents hit the stone floor cleanly. Spike managed to pull the bucket in front of him just in time to catch the second glob in it.

As he vomited his guts out, his mind replayed over and over all he had done and said during those two miserable years, making him vomit more and more out of guilt and hate rather than disgust and revulsion. Slowly his grunts and moans of pain and disgust turned into cries of rage and desperation. He tossed the bucket aside carelessly clutching his head with his hands, hard. His eyes painfully closed trying in vain to keep his tears in.

He got up and stumbled for a few steps before shooting his eyes open and letting out a soul-tearing roar. His mind took him back to the first sleepover Twilight held in their new home. The way the six of them invited him to join them without shame or second doubts, the fun they had that night talking, joking and playing, the way all seven of them had cuddled up and slept through the chilly night. It was one of his favorite memories. Then the next he saw was his six mare-friends kneeling on the ground in front of him, wearing nothing but collars and leashes, while he held the leashes tightly with one hand. All of them shared the same blank expression and dumb smile.

His roar suddenly ended and his hands fell to his sides.

Big Mac got up from his seat once the dragon stopped. He walked over to him and placed his hand over his left shoulder, trying to show support to his friend. Seconds past but the dragon didn’t move an inch.

“Spike?”

Spike said nothing.

“Spike?” Big Mac repeated, but once again the dragon said nothing. He just stood still with his mouth open as wide as it could be. He shook the dragon a bit, trying to get a response but nothing happened. “Spike!?” Big Mac, now quite worried, shouted this time, finally noticing the dragon’s eyes open and rolled to the back of his head. He was in shock.

-------------------------------------------------*********************************************

Spike woke up slowly, the warm rays of the sun bathing his face in soothing warmth. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times to adjust his vision. He wasn’t in the basement anymore, but he recognized the room. He was in Big Mac’s room.

The memories of why was he there in the first place hit him hard. A wave of revulsion and disgust hit him again only to be replaced by guilt the more he thought about it. He tried to get up but couldn’t move anything besides his neck. Even his snout was held closed by black rope. He didn’t try to fight for long, both noticing it was useless and because the ever growing guilt in his chest made him cry like a little drake again. Hot tears filled his eyes as he began to let out muffled groans and shouts.

Twilight. Girls. Mom. I’m sorry…..I’m so, so, so sorry, he apologized in his mind. Everypony…...everyone, I’m so sorry. His tears falling freely to the bed below him. He knew it wasn’t enough, nothing would be enough for what he had done to them, but what else could he say or do to apologize?

Every crack of whip, every moan and grunt of pleasure he gave out, every cry for mercy the females under his care implored to him played back through his mind again and again. The crying faces of every female he had raped and trained to become pets for other males. Especially for the caribou.

Caribou, he repeated inside his head. Caribou. His tears finally halting their fall and his guilt being replaced by something else, something much more powerful and heavier. Caribou.

The guilt in his chest was suddenly replaced by a feeling Spike had felt just two or three times throughout his life, even then those past experiences were nothing compared to what he was feeling now. His lungs and stomach filled with fire, his nostrils becoming geysers of green fire in each of his increasingly rapid exhalations.

He let out a very powerful muffled roar. His entire being filled to the brim with anger, rage and hate towards the bastards that had destroyed everything he once knew and morphed it into their definition of a paradise. His mind jumbled, thoughts racing back and forth, but through it all, one name replayed constantly, standing out among the horrors.

Dainn!

Spike tried again with renewed strength and vigor to free himself from his restraints. Desperate to go and kill the motherfucker responsible for over two years of pain, misery and suffering, his hate threatening to burst out of his chest if he didn’t.

“Spike, calm down!” said a hushed voice at his side.

Spike snapped his head to his left to see who that voice was. His rage diminishing little by little as he stared into the green eyes of the mare from before.

Miss… Cheerilee, he thought almost instantly.

A door in the other side of the room suddenly opened, revealing Big Macintosh wearing a white towel around his waist, steam followed behind him and he could still see a few drops of water falling down his mane and coat. He walked over to next to the kneeling Cheerilee, shared a second long glance with the dragon and then brought up one of his index fingers over his lips, motioning him to keep quiet.

The dragon huffed and puffed angrily before a loud knocking came from down the hallway followed by a shout.

“Mister Macintosh, are you home?”

Big Mac looked down to Cheerilee and nodded.

“Don’t make a sound,” he whispered as he turned around.

Spike held still, his breathing slowly returning to normal. The hoofsteps of Big Mac echoed perfectly as he walked to the main entrance of the house, followed by him walking down stairs. A few seconds later the hoofsteps stopped and a door opening was heard.

“Captain Harald, tah what Ah owe the pleasure of yer visit?” Big Mac said politely.

Spike’s pupils shrank into tiny dots upon hearing that name, the bottomless feeling in his chest returning ten-fold. He was stopped, however, when Cheerilee took hold of his head and made him look directly into her eyes again. She slowly shook her head, silently begging him to endure for a little bit longer. It took him several seconds but in the end Spike complied, just barely. He would deal with the sick bastard later.

“--od to hear, captain. Fer a moment Ah thought there was somethin’ wrong with mah papers,” Big Mac said in that same polite tone. Spike realized he had missed a bit of their conversation.

“You’re illness was, thankfully, cured almost a year ago, Mister Macintosh. I say, I was happy to see you reform completely. It would’ve been a true shame to switch a paragon of masculinity such as yourself,” Harald said with a haughty, arrogant chuckle.

Switch. The word sent his stomach roiling. It was the term used by the caribou to call males-turned-into-females that had fallen into ‘heresy’ for trying to protect, defend, or respect a female in any regard that didn’t involve something sexual. Or in some cases for being considered liable to start trouble or protest against the caribou regime.

“Then what seems tah be the problem, captain?”

“Three of my guards have yet to report to the garrison. Their rounds had them patrolling the south border of your farm, Mister Macintosh. Those fools are most likely having their fun with your pets around the farm, but may I ask, have you seen them?”

“Ah can’t say I have, captain. At least, not recently. Ah saw three guards a few hours ago before comin’ home tah ‘play’ with mah favorite bitch. Haven’t seen ‘em since then.”

Hearing Big Mac say those things sent another wave of revulsion through Spike’s gut, but he knew Big Mac was lying. What are you doing, Big Mac?

“Must’ve been them. I swear, those three idiots are gonna get themselves killed one of these days.” Harald sighed. “Can you tell me where you last saw them?”

“Near the barn. Now that Ah remember. Ah haven’t seen mah slut of a sister either.”

Harald grunted. “You give that black collar bitch too much freedom, Mister Macintosh. I know she obeys you, but she’s still a black collar. The amount of trouble that mare has given me with her escape attempts and her constant fighting back have been a nightmare. The bitch is lucky King Dainn likes to keep her around for shows and fuck-a-hole tournaments.”

“Don’t Ah know it.”

Both laughed for a few seconds before the sound of hoofsteps echoed once again.

“I’ll go check where those idiots are. Then maybe we can share a drink and a bitch? Perhaps two?”

“Yah know it, captain!” Big Mac said enthusiastically.

The door closed followed by the slight clinging of metal and several hoofsteps walking away. Silence reigned for several seconds, then rapid hoofsteps echoed around the house. Seconds later Big Mac re-entered the room, tossed the towel aside, uncaring for his sudden nudeness. Throwing on on some blue pants and a green sleevless shirt, he turned around to see the dragon tied in bed then at Cheerilee.

“Don’t make a sound. Ah’ll handle this.” Cheerilee nodded, and Mac left the room in a haste. A minute later an enraged, wordless shout came from the barn. The front door slammed open and Big Mac rushed outside the house.

Spike and Cheerilee waited for several minutes, only the occasional distant shouts and sounds of things breaking interrupting the would-be silent wait. Suddenly the shouts began to make sense and become louder.

“I want you four to search the perimeter this instant! Find that fucking slut, now!”

“Yes, sir!” several voices yelled in return.

A couple of seconds later anxious sounding hoofsteps came from downstairs. “This is bad, this is really, really bad. King Dainn won’t like this,” Harald muttered, his voice almost shivering. “How am I going to explain the loss one of the national prizes!?”

“Captain, if Ah may suggest somethin’.”

“Y-you may, Mister Macintosh.”

“It looks tah me that… it was the fault of the guards that my whorse sister escaped,” Big Mac explained softly.

“What do you mean by that?” Harald asked, a bit of hope noticeable in his voice.

“Ah knew ‘em enough to know they enjoyed letting black collars defend themselves before showin’ ‘em who’s boss. Mah slut sister was unbound to do her mornin’ chores. Maybe they thought it would be fun enjoyin’ an Ex-Element by themselves.”

A few seconds of silenced followed. “You’re right, Mister Macintosh. They did have that pointless fetish.” Harald hummed. “Yes, I can see your point. In their overconfidence and ignorance, they likely gave a weapon to the bitch. She just bid her time and then struck them down.” He hummed again. “Still, a mare, even if it is an earth one, took down three of my men on her own…”

“Mah slut sister was, and still is, one of the strongest earth’s there is. Remember her last attempt eight months ago?”

Harald huffed. “How could I forget? That cunt dragged two of my strongest through the ground when they roped her.”

“Sadly, Ah carry some of the blame, too, captain.”

There was a sudden shifting noise. “Of course not, Mister Macintosh. It wasn’t your fault those three idiots decided to grab your property without asking you first.”

There was a moment of silence. Then a group of hoofsteps approached and entered the house.

“Sir. We’ve found a path behind the barn that leads to the forest. It seems the whore tried to cover her tracks but failed in the end.”

“Then what are you waiting for, you imbeciles!? Go after that bitch! Search in the depositors hives, go to that zebra bitch living in the forest! I don’t care how you do it, but you must find that fucking cunt whatever the cost! I don’t care if it takes you days, just find and bring her ass back to me!”

“Yes, sir!” the guards exclaimed at the same time before hastily leaving the house.

Harald let out an angry huff. “Mister Macintosh, I know the bitch--”

“Yah can do what it’s necessary tah deliver her punishment when yah catch her. Turn the cunt into a purple for all Ah care. The bitch deserves no less.”

Harald let out a small chuckle. “I’m glad and thankful for your permission, Mister Macintosh. I’ll take your advice into consideration. Maybe, if Dainn smiles upon us, we can benefit from all this. Good day.”

“Good day, captain!” Big Mac said happily. Hoofsteps were heard for a few seconds, then the door closed. Slow, almost dragging hoofsteps followed it. After a minute or so Big Mac appeared once again through the door-frame, his expression unreadable. He stepped inside his bedroom, groggily made his way to a chair next to his dresser and sat down. He covered his face with both hands and moved them as though washing it.

“How did it… go?” Cheerilee asked.

Big Mac let out something between a sigh and a groan while freeing his face. “Better than Ah hoped. We’re lucky Harald’s a fool and a coward.”

“Will Applejack be alright?”

“Eeyup. The potion Zecora made keeps those darn monstrosities away. She’s invisible to entanglers, depositors and pacifiers now.” Big Mac looked to the window and let out a content hum. “She must be past the ‘safe’ limits of the forest by now. She’s finally safe and we gain a little piece of hope.”

“Thank Celestia,” Cheerilee breathed.

Big Mac stared at Cheerilee for a few moments before speaking. “Ah’m sorry, Cheerilee. Fer everythin’.”

Cheerilee got up and walked to where Big Mac was sitting, she then hugged the stallion tightly as she could.

“It’s alright, Big Mac, it’s alright. We both agreed to endure it. At least we have each other, don’t we?”

Spike chose to remain silent, silently watching their embrace and understanding something he hadn’t even thought of before.

I’m… I’m not the only one who’s suffered. Everyone in Equestria and the Crystal Empire have, too, Spike said to himself grimly. Just another reason to increase his inner hate.

“Spike?”

The dragon looked at Big Mac standing next to him, Cheerilee at his side.

“Are yah alright?” Big Mac asked, Spike nodded in return. “These here ropes are strong enough to hold down a warbeast. No matter what yah do, they won’t break. Ah can untie yah, but only if yah promise tah NOT go after the caribou or that fucker Dainn.”

The dragon glared at the stallion for uttering those words, but soon calmed himself enough to nod again.

“No, Spike. Ah need yah to be truly honest with us. Yer are a dragon, but yer are just one. The caribou are many. They have weapons, magic, armor, armies, not to mention Dainn himself. Please Spike, understand this. Yah can’t fight ‘em on yer own.” Mac winced as he said the words, pain bleeding into his voice. “We lost too many already. Havin’ yah at our side again is one heck of a blessin’. Please, don’t waste yer life now that yah got it back.”

Spike let out a muffled groan followed by a snort of fire out of his nostrils. That is no life, I rather die than go back to that shit!

“Think of Twilight, dang it!” Big Mac said. “Think of the girls in yer castle! What will happen tah ‘em if yah go and die fer nothing!?”

His words managed to both anger Spike more and give him pause. What would happen to the girls, the females under my care if I die? Spike thought. His mind betrayed him, showing him different scenarios and punishments he was all too familiar with.

Spike finally relaxed, his fury replaced by a tormenting concern mixed with guilt. I… I won’t abandon Twilight. Not again.

“Ah see you finally understand what’s at stake here, Spike,” Big Mac said before moving around the bed, undoing bind after bind. A minute later Spike was free and sat on the edge of the bed. “Sorry fer tying you, Spike. But Ah couldn’t take any chances.” Big Mac sat down next to Spike. Cheerilee sat next to Big Mac quietly. “Ah just… Ah just don’t wanna lose another friend.”

“I… Thanks, Big Mac.” Spike turned his head just enough to see the stallion and the mare at his side. “You’re… heretics.”

“We like Fakers better, if yah don’t mind,” Big Mac corrected.

“Fakers,” Spike murmured before looking down at his claws. He clenched them a few times, almost as if examining them. “W-what happened to me, at the barn? When Applejack screamed for help I… I don’t know. I felt something just shatter and that voice was suddenly… gone.”

“You were what we call an Enslaved, Spike,” Cheerilee said. “We always suspected you to be one, but weren’t sure.”

Spike said nothing, but hummed in response, his mind busy examining his hands and claws for almost a full minute. “The voice was… controlling me?”

“Yes and no. The ‘voice’, as you call it, was there to ensure the caribou’s dark magic brainwash, to turn you into one of them. Or a Corrupted, as we call them. But at the same it repressed your mind just enough to trust it on whatever it said and slowly twisting your memories, to prevent your rebellion, if you will,” Cheerilee explained.

Spike tried to say something but failed, he had no words to express his thoughts at the moment. He remained silent for a couple of seconds before getting up slowly. “H-how long have you been here-I mean, Fakers?”

“Almost since the beginning,” Big Mac admitted. “When it started Ah barely had time tah get Applebloom and Granny out o’ here. Ah tried tah fight back but the caribou were too many and strong. Even fer me,” Big Mac said sounding ashamed. “Ah’m sure yah can remember the first year, don’t yah?”

“Yeah,” Spike replied grimly, his hands turning to shaky fists.

“When Ah got word what the caribou were doin’ tah stallions that fought back Ah decided tah play along. Just to keep mah sister and other mares as safe as Ah could. And it worked.” Big Mac sighed. “Ah found out I was immune tah their dark magic the same day Cheerilee arrived here.”

“I started to fake being under their control six months into the Fall,” Cheerilee said sadly. “At least then the punishments were… softer.” There was a moment of silence. “I did my best to be assigned here. There was a rumor that Big Mac treated his ‘pets’ nice by caribou standards. It took all my courage to speak freely to Mac the night I arrived.” Cheerilee got up, caring not for her nakedness.

“I was part of a rebel camp, you see. We had plenty of information on the caribou and we knew about the brainwash, the dark magic they used and the monstrosities they brought with them. Thankfully most of the camp escaped before we were captured. Needless to say I wasn’t so lucky.” Cheerilee let out a mirthless chuckle, looking down at her exposed body. “It’s amazing how shame for your body is the first thing that fades away.”

Spike looked away, baring his fangs in anger. “Big Mac,” he said without looking back at him, not wanting to see Cheerilee again. “H-how can you, any of you, live like this?”

There was silence, only interrupted when the stallion got up and walked in front of Spike. “Because we have tah, Spike.” Big Mac placed his hands on Spike’s shoulders, forcing the dragon to look to him. “The other nations turned their backs on us. We, what little is left of Equestria, stand alone. We must fight in any way we can against the caribou, but we have tah be smart. Everypony… everyone in Equestria is trapped in this new Tartarus. But they will pay one day fer what they did and are doin’ tah us.” The red stallion smiled warmly. “We just need tah have hope and wait fer the time to hit ‘em back in the pucker.”

Spike smiled, albeit weakly at the stallion. “Y-you’re right. Thanks.” Big Mac nodded, letting him go in the process. “What happens now?”

Big Mac’s smile dropped and in turn a sour look took its place. “Yah’ll have to wait till Sunday tah pay me another visit.”

Spike stared down at the ground, catching the silent meaning behind Big Mac’s words. “I-I c-can’t--”

“Yah must,” interrupted the stallion. “It won’t be easy, that much Ah can tell yah, Spike. But please, don’t do anything stupid.” Big Mac stepped closer to Cheerilee, hugging her close for a moment. “If yah can’t do it fer yerself, do it fer Twilight and the other mares.”

Spike looked up and silently watched the embrace the two ponies shared. It was more than obvious they knew what they were talking about. And that realization made him think of just how much pain they were holding inside. Spike nodded slowly, accepting his new role with a hole in his stomach and hate in his heart.

“What am I suppose to do?” he finally asked.

“Just do what yah usually do until Sunday night. Make sure tah act the part, Spike,” Big Mac said dead serious, Spike nodded again, his hands clenching hard.

“What happens on Sunday?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

“Poker Night.” the stallion replied.

--------------------------------------------------------------***************************************************

Spike stood in front of the once proud Castle of Friendship, the castle and home of Twilight Sparkle, himself, and the council of friendship . Purple banners showcasing a green ‘S’ in the center gently flowed in the breeze at each side of the entry. Now, it was his castle. It was merely for show, he knew it, but still asked himself why did Dainn let him keep it instead of giving it to one of his officers.

He stepped closer to the entrance, knowing full-well what laid inside those walls. The urge to vomit hit him for what seemed like the thousandth time since his departure from Sweet Apple Acres . He resisted, however, the words of Big Mac still fresh in his mind.

This is for them, this is for them. He repeated the mantra in his head as he opened the doors of his castle. Stacks of straw and a bag of mare-kibble sat just in the entryway.

As he walked inside he could hear the murmurs of Twilight speaking.

Just finishing her… lecture, Spike thought, another wave of revulsion and anger hitting him dead in the eye.

He entered the throne room, HIS throne room. He looked around for a moment, glaring and wanting nothing more than to destroy all the posters hanging in the walls.

Mares licking the hooves of a caribou. Everything is better when you know your place, it read below.

A donkey mare being punished by pulling her breasts and nipples almost to the tearing point. Talking back is forbidden.

A griffoness tied up to an X-shaped bed. She had no feathers or fur and had a soulless look on her eyes. Be obedient or be blanked.

A diamond dog pulling a leash while a mare crawled at his side obediently. Good bitches are happy bitches.

Fluttershy on all fours, dildos sticking out from her pussy and ass. She was looking at the camera with a joyful smile while acting as a hooverester. Red Collar Rewards: Important Jobs.

A zebra mare armed with tribal armor and a spear being lifted off of the ground by a caribou while other behind her readied himself to put a black collar around her neck. Resistance is futile.

Cadance taking a cum bath while sucking the dick of Shining Armor. Embrace your true destiny.

The backside of Celestia in full display with Dainn fucking her pussy, a riding crop hanging nearby of Celestia’s ass. SUBMIT, it read in bold red letters.

Spike growled angrily, tearing his eyes from the posters.

‘This is for them, this is for them, this is for them.

A minute later he was calm enough to continue across the throne room. In the past, seven thrones were arrainged in a circle. Now, just one oversized chair remained. He stopped in front of another door, knowing that behind that door was Twilight most likely wrapping up her “class.” He steadied himself, grabbing the knob of the door.

“Do it for them,” he whispered to himself before opening the room.

“Attention cunts! Master is back!” Twilight said in a happy tone from behind her desk.

“Hello, Master,” said two dozen females at the same time in a polite tone from their chairs, some of them with a hint of anger. No wonder, most were black collars after all.

Spike glanced quickly around the room, seeing bondage furniture, saddle bags, paddles, chains, leather and plastic clothing, riding crops, dildos of all shapes and sizes, locks, a corner covered with newspaper, bowls of water in another corner and the walls filled with even more posters like the ones in the throne room. The chalkboard littered with the new teaching of the caribou regime, such as ‘Obey your masters’, ‘Good slaves get dick. Bad slaves get beat’, ‘Disobedience is misery’ and ‘Silencing your inner “no” is happiness.’

Spike clenched the rope holding the stacks of straw hard, his claws almost tearing through it.

“I see everything is going nicely, Twilight,” Spike said earning a few gasps from the red collared females. Most were ponies but there was a cow, two griffonesses, a zebra and a Saddle Arabian. All were looking at him in shock. “Uh... what?”

“Oh, Master! As the worthless cunt that I am, I don’t deserve the privilege to be called by a name.” Twilight giggled. She got up from her chair, revealing she was wearing a small black tie and a transparent skirt that didn’t cover anything. As she got up Twilight let out a small moan of pleasure, her chair revealing two medium-sized dildos slick with her fluids.

Spike bit the inside of his cheek for a moment, silently cursing himself for his stupidity. “I know, slut. I was just testing your reaction,” he said at the same time he cursed himself for doing so. Twilight giggled again then turned to her students.

“Alright sluts, this concludes Twilight-Cunt Time for the day. Tomorrow, we will review the proper use of bondage, and how to obey and understand body commands.”

The females got up slowly, some grunting and others moaning as they did, revealing that their chairs also had dildos, just like Twilight’s. All of them had chains locking their hands and shackles on their ankles. Then, in perfect order, they walked down a passage at the back of the room leading to the basement and to their cages. Spike followed closely behind Twilight as she retrieved a keyring from her desk.

Reaching the basement, the females lined up again in front of their respective cages. Twilight whistled and the females went to all fours and crawled back into their cages. Twilight walked to each cage, slamming the doors shut and locking them. Once she was done, she put the keys on a nearby hand handle and sank to all fours herself, crawling back to where Spike waited for her.

Spike, for his part, saw the rest of the cages, another two dozen, all filled with females, most of them ready for ‘shipment’. He didn’t even notice the smell of filth and other body fluids. He was used to them. Wordlessly, he grabbed one of the straw stacks, cut the bindings and carried the loose straw over the cages, letting go a good amount of it in each cage. The females inside, even the most stubborn black collars, took their straw with joy in their eyes. New straw meant comfy beds for them, a true luxury.

Once he was done with the last sack of straw, he grabbed and opened the mare kibble bag and poured a great amount of mare kibble into their bowls. Some of them immediately began to eat, clearly starving for food. He turned to leave when a voice stopped him.

“Thank you, Master.”

Spike turned to look. The only Diamond Dog in his “collection” was smiling at him in between mouthfuls of kibble. Moments later several other females began to thank him for his gifts and his kindness. He said nothing and left the basement, Twilight crawling at his side the entire time.

He made his way back to the throne room, walked up to his throne and unceremoniously sat. Twilight crawled in front of him and in between his legs.

“May this useless cunt please your mighty cock, Master?” Twilight asked licking her lips in anticipation.

Spike looked at her for a moment or two before answering. “N-not today, bitch. I’m feeling very tired.” Twilight let out a small whimper of disappointment. “Go to the kitchen and eat whatever you want for today.”

Twilight let out a horrified gasp. “B-b-but Master! Food is meant for superior males such as yourself, not for ignorant, worthless, disposable--”

“Are you questioning me?” Spike interrupted her angrily.

“O-o-of course not, Master!” Twilight apologized immediately.

“You’ve been a good pet during these past weeks, I think you deserve a great reward for being so good,” Spike said with a stoic face.

“B-b-but---”

“You know what, slut? I order you to go to the kitchen, make yourself a nice salad, eat it and then go back to your cage and rest,” Spike said with unabashed authority, two years worth of using such a tone bearing their fruits. “Or are going to disobey an order from your Master?”

Twilight trembled a few times, looking around unsure of what to do. A couple of seconds later she stopped and looked at the ground.

“Thank you for your generosity, Master,” she said softly and, dare he say, even happy.

As Twilight crawled towards the kitchen, Spike sat on his throne, alone with his thoughts. Just thinking that a few hours ago he was an Enslaved, as Cheerilee called it, made him sick. But at the same time, he was infinitely thankful to be free, to be ‘himself’ again. At least, as much as he could in the dark pit he was. He even got to kill two caribou all by himself.

“I… killed,” Spike whispered.

He looked down at his hands and claws with a frown. He could remember it now so clearly. The blood and the meat and the bone his claws had slashed through. He remembered the texture of their fur, the warmth of their blood, the stench of their meat, the flavor of it all.

He also remembered a few talks with some royal guards and even with Celestia about killing. Very few guards had actually killed somepony or someone in their line of duty and his mother had rarely done so herself, despite her thousands of years fighting against the forces of evil. But everyone of them said that it felt awful the very first time they did it. That and that the experience was shocking, sometimes even traumatic. A feeling, an experience, one could never forget.

“Then why,” Spike whispered to himself clenching and releasing his hands repeatedly, “don’t I feel anything?”

---------------------------------------------------------*************************************************

*Sweet Apple Acres-Sunday Night*

Spike walked through the darkened streets of Ponyville at a steady pace, making his way to Sweet Apple Acres for ‘Poker Night’. It was a little past nine, the hour Big Mac told him to come. The streets were practically empty, except for the occasional pony or caribou guard he bumped into every few minutes.

“Lord Spike.” A unicorn guard saluted as Spike walked past him and the border of the village leading to the Apple’s farm.

“Good Night,” Spike said to the guard, waving his claw at him a few times.

A few minutes later Spike now stood in front of the Apple Family Household. Nervously, he knocked a few times. Almost instantly he heard the sound of hoofsteps approaching to the door. Then it opened revealing Big Mac, wearing a blue T-shirt and green pants. The stallion smiled at him for a moment before stepping outside himself. “Come, everypony else is waitin’ fer us.”

Big Mac closed the door behind him and locked it. He began to make his way across the field of his farm, a few lampposts placed here and there to provide just enough light to illuminate the dirt road. Their walk continued for almost two minutes with the sounds of the forest nearby, crickets and the distant moans and screams being their only company.

They walked past the rape-vine field: disgusting plants that looked like mix between a carnivorous plant and some sort of tentacle monster. The rape-vines, like any carnivorous plant, fed on the fluids of others. Unlike others, however, rape vines fed on the female fluids, their sexual juices to be precise. Its tentacles were long, easily seven meters on the fully grown ones, and strong enough to lift even a warbeast effortlessly, making resistance futile. The rape-vines attacked any and every female near them and used their multiple tentacles to ‘feed’ off of them. Just another monstrosity brought by the caribou that, strangely enough, had an actual purpose for their care and harvest other than entertain the caribou.

Their seeds were used to produce the beer caribous loved so much.

Spike resisted the urge to vomit, remembering all the beer he had drank over the past two years. Truly disgusting.

Spike shook his head, trying to forget that line of thought. Coming back to his senses he noticed a lamppost illuminating a small wooden sign that read:

‘Poker Night ongoing; Do not disturb unless for important business.’

The dragon remembered seeing that sign a few times in the past, yet he had never being invited in the past. Not that it mattered to him then anyways. A little further down the road he saw something he could only describe as a large storage room. The building had the shape of a square even though it was made out of wood with no paint over it. It had two lampposts at each side of the door, a pair of small windows with a couple of red curtains blocking the view inside the room-house-thing and, to his surprise, a ‘No Bitches Allowed’ sign hanging over the door in yellow.

“What’s with the sign?” Spike asked while Big Mac searched for the key in one of his pockets.

“Safety,” Big Mac replied. “Even the caribou know what ‘guy time’ is. It ain’t very common but plenty others do similar things, even some caribou.” He pulled a shiny metallic key out of his left pocket and proceeded to open the door.

Spike followed Big Mac into the building. The first thing he saw was seven familiar faces sitting around a round table. He advanced slowly, unsure of what to do or say next. The door closed behind him startling him for a moment.

“Welcome, Spike,” Big Mac said walking past him and taking the seat in front of Spike. “Yer among friends. Take a seat.”

Spike obeyed the command and sat on the only empty chair left next to Big Mac. He looked around the table, his eyes filling for the first time with joyful tears. He quickly wiped them off and smiled.

“Filthy,” he said looking at the brown earth pony stallion wearing his usual business suit. The stallion nodded back at him.

“Thunderlane.” The dark grey stallion wearing a white t-shirt and blue jeans smiled at him.

“Caramel.”

“Glad to have you here, Spike,” the caramel colored stallion wearing a brown shirt and red shorts said.

“Mr. Cake, Pokey, Cranky, Bulk Biceps,” Spike said hastily looking at each of the other stallions and donkey. They wore similar casual clothes as Mac. As he said their names, a smile adorned his lips.

“You must have a lot of questions, dontcha Spike?” Pokey said with a sad smile, Spike nodded. “You’ll get your answers, but first...” he pulled a deck of cards from his pocket. “We play Hold'em.”

*Half an hour later*

“I got nothing,” said Filthy Rich, sliding his two cards in front of him.

“Ah fold,” said Big Mac putting down his cards.

“Two pairs,” said Bulk Biceps showing his cards, a blue five and a green seven.

Pokey smiled slyly showing his yellow and blue Captain’s, matching perfectly with the red one below and the green and blue two’s earned him a free pair which meant. “Full house boys.”

“So I win again!” Cranky said with a very small smile. “Four-of-a-kind. Better luck next time Pokey,” the donkey said showing his red and yellow two’s.

The unicorn huffed. “You won’t be so lucky next game, old geezer.” Activating his magic he took all the cards on the table and began to shuffle them once again. “So! How are you feeling Spike?”

Spike, resting his elbows on the table, eyed Pokey for a moment. “It’s a mixed feeling. Half of me wants to puke my insides out, which I am tempted to do almost every minute. My other half of me wants to… hurt them.” Spike snorted out a small streak of flames. “And another half of me wants to end it all.” There was a moment of silence after he said that.

“I know what you mean, Spike.” Mr. Cake said with a knowing sad smile. “We all do.” The rest of the males agreed.

“Is it… is it worth it?” Spike asked receiving two new cards.

“At first it doesn’t look like much,” Thunderlane said. “But after a few weeks you can see the impact you make on their lives. How more tolerable their situation is. Even if just a little. it’s a huge boost for them.” he paused for a moment to look at his cards. “Flitter and Cloudchaser are safe with me… most of the time.”

Spike saw the expression on his face, the same Big Mac had two days ago in his room. “They are black collars, right?” Thunderlane nodded. “Do they know you’re a, what did you call it Big Mac? Fakeling?”

“Faker.”

“No, they don’t. To them I’m just another brute that, oddly enough, treats them a bit better than your average male,” Thunderlane said with a sour look. “We must keep our group limited.”

“Speaking of our group,” Carrot Cake said throwing two black chips to the middle of the table. “Any news on Applejack?”

“Eeyup,” Big Mac said throwing two black chips too. “Got word just this morning. Applejack made it tah the rebel camp safely. The caribou Harald sent after her were killed by the inner monsters.”

“So the potion Zecora made is effective?” Caramel asked curiously. Big Mac nodded earning a content sigh from Caramel. “It’s good we have her on our side now.”

“Is Zecora like miss Cheerilee?” Spike asked, throwing two black chips into the now formed pile in the center of the table.

“Has been since she broke from the brainwash,” Filthy said with a serious expression. “We’re lucky she decided to stay and help us. We need all the help we can get.”

Spike looked down at his cards then around the table. “Mmmmm, isn’t this place a little, I dunno, unsafe to be talking about this stuff? A-are we safe?”

“Of course we are, kiddo,” Cranky said. “See those little red orbs in the walls?” Spike looked around the room, scanning it for the first time since his arrival. As Cranky said there were tiny spiral shaped red orbs across the walls.“The zebra made them for us. They don’t let any sound pass the walls, not even with the windows open. We tried.”

“Basically, while we are here what we say stays here,” Pokey said placing the three reveal cards.

Spike kept quiet for a few moments before asking. “Are there… are there any more like you… us?”

“Yes, there are,” Filthy said in an almost remorseful tone. “But most of them act on their own and most of the time the males end up dead or switched, while the females end up in dirt farms, dead or blanked, sometimes even worse.” Filthy closed his eyes, a slight tremor in his jaw. “Just gathering our little group here took almost two years, and even then we took great risks doing so.”

The group went silent for a moment, sour looks adorning their faces. They continued to play in silence for a couple of minutes until they finished their game, Cranky winning again. Pokey picked the cards with his magic and placed them in front of him.

“Our group is just twelve members strong, you included, Spike. The other three members are Cheerilee, Zecora and Redheart,” Pokey said placing his hands on the table. “But we’ll talk about that another time. We have business now,” the typically bubbly and cheerful stallion said in a dead serious tone. “I just got word that the rebels near Stalliongrad took out several cargo shipments and, get this, found out what this shit really is.” Pokey pulled a carefully enclosed paper out of the bag hanging from his chair.

Unfolding the paper it was revealed that it was another one of those propaganda posters that littered almost every wall in Equestria. But this one was different, this one focused on a product.

The poster pictured a black collared cow with her eyes glowing green and a dumb smile, below her there was a strange flask with green juice. “Black collar problems? Try out changeslut juice! Obedience guaranteed.”

“The caribou, those fucking maniacs, are using live changelings to produce it.” Pokey clenched his hands into fists. “They… they kill them, grind them up and turn them into… that,” Pokey said with absolute disgust, some angry grunts and even a ‘Bastards’ echoed around him.

“But why?” Bulk Biceps asked confused.

“Since changelings are immune to the caribou brainwash, they… developed a method to take the changelings own brainwashing magic and use it for their sick goals.” Pokey finished hitting the table once. “Three years ago, I hated changelings with a passion of a thousand suns, but since the Fall...” Pokey sighed heavily. “Since that Tirek-damned day they were dragged to fight against the caribou. With their survival at stake and with the things the caribou do to them… now I feel pity, and respect. They may be fighting for their own, but they’re the only help we’re getting from any other race.”

“But can we trust them? Their queen still remains hidden,” Cranky said.

“Rich said so himself, we need all the help we can get. And to be honest, we need them,” Caramel said sinking in his seat. “But now that Applejack is with the rebels deep in the Everfree we can finally have some hope back. At least we know she’ll be safe there. Not even that fucker Dainn dares to go past the safe zone.” The group, minus Spike, shared a short laugh.

“Any word from yer contacts in Canterlot, Mister Rich?” Big Mac asked.

“Just the usual, I’m afraid. Although my contacts in the Crystal Empire say that a couple of exploration teams have gone missing, apparently trying to get to a supposed rebel base up in the far north, almost reaching the Solitude mountains.”

“That far into the north? How can anyone survive there?” Pokey asked.

“They’ve sent four groups already, none came back,” Filthy said with a hint of happiness. “I don’t care who they are. They’re killing caribou and others under their control, that just means less to worry about,” he said coldly.

“How can you say that, Rich!” Caramel said. “Some of those may be Enslaved or even Fakers!”

“Then those rebels did mercy upon them. And if there were Fakers between them then they died for a good cause. We have lost many and we will lose many more before we can finally take Dainn down. Maybe even us.”

The room fell silent, knowing Filthy was right. After a full minute of uncomfortable silence Spike spoke up.

“How many have tried to kill that... that… that monster?”.

“Too many. Both males and females. I… I lost my Matilda to that… thing! I may be old but I will do all I can to see that fucker die,” Cranky said barely containing the tears in his eyes.

“There have been many assassination attempts but none has been successful,” Filthy explained. “He rarely leaves Canterlot. He has guards at almost every vital point he is at the moment and there are some always near him. Few can come close to him and almost all of those few are either caribou or completely broken females. He doesn’t like to mingle with other males that aren’t of his race, except for Shining Armor and Discord. They and the occasional male that ‘proves himself’ to him.” Filthy sighed. “Getting close to Dainn is almost impossible.”

“Damn coward,” Pokey snarled.

“A strong coward,” Bulk Biceps said angrily.

Spike’s mind wondered for a moment, disconnecting himself from what was going on around him.

Get close to him, he thought. If I can get close enough to him maybe I can…..kill him. Something jumped inside his stomach, but unlike the urge to vomit, this felt almost pleasant. Spike looked to his claws for a moment, clenching and opening them slowly.

Kill Dainn. My claws could do it. So could my fangs and my fire. Maybe… maybe I can kill him.

I just need to get close enough to kill Dainn. And with him dead everything will be back to normal, Spike thought clenching his fists hard. Twilight and the others will be free and the caribou will pay for what they did to us.

They will pay with blood...

“Filthy,” Spike said loudly, effectively interrupting the conversation of his fellow Fakers. “What do you mean by a male proving himself?”

Big Mac slammed his hands on the table and got up. “Yah can’t be serious, Spike!” the stallion almost shouted at him. “Do yah want tah die!?”

“You told me I couldn’t fight against the caribou alone. But if I can get to him, alone, then maybe, just maybe I can kill that perverted maniac.” Big Mac kept silent for a moment, not truly convinced. “Think about it, Big Mac. As a dragon, I have the best chance to actually do it.” His tone was even, but with just a hint of eagerness.

Big Mac looked at Spike for a few moments, then he sighed defeated taking his seat again. “Are yah sure?” Big Mac asked,his voice devoid of emotion. Spike nodded. “Mister Rich, Cheerilee, and Ah are the only among us that are immune tah the caribou’s dark magic. The rest of us were Enslaved, just like yah, and have been Fakers after they broke out,” Big Mac said almost in a hush, his voice threatening to break. “We’ve done terrible, awful things tah keep us safe and tah fight silently the caribou, Spike.”

“But what you’re asking is beyond stupidity, Spike,” Filthy declared. “Let’s make a deal, shall we? Our next Poker Night is two weeks from now. If you still feel the same way by that time, then I will tell you everything you need to know to try, and I repeat, try to gain Dainn’s attention. Do we have a deal?”

“Deal,” Spike said without hesitation.

-------------------------------------------------***********************************************

*Ponyville-Castle of ‘Spike’*

Spike lay awake in his bed. It was somewhere past midnight but he didn’t care, he couldn’t sleep. The soft snores that Twilight made from her cage at the side of his bed felt like daggers to his heart, made worse by the gentle humming of the vibrator she had inside her pussy. Even when asleep, she made sure her body was receptive...

It’s been just two days of this. How can the others stay so strong? The things they must have done… is it possible for me to be as strong as them? Can I really… do it? Spike thought, doubting himself for a second before a low moan from Twilight made his fire burst inside him.

No, I can’t. I MUST do it. And… if I survive, then maybe… maybe I can beg for their forgiveness.

Spike turned to face to the other side of the bed, away from where Twilight was. And for the first time since being set free he began to cry softly, his tears falling from his eyes like small rivers. He silently wept in the darkness of his room, knowing full well the real Tartarus was just about to begin.

-----------------------------------------------------------*************************************************

*Griffon Kingdom - Outskirts of the Capital city Wind Heaven - Court of The Great Tribunal* Present Time.

The entire audience was silent as they kept on hearing the tale of the dragon sitting in front of the nine Judges. The guards didn’t dare to move and the Judges stood still, except for Chrysalis who already knew the tale. She just limited herself to send a look of absolute pity towards the dragon in front of her. She knew the story, but not all the gory details.

The thought alone sent shivers up her spine. Just what horrors could Spike, the dragon she had come to respect and, dare she say, even call a friend be hiding?

“The two weeks that followed were nothing short of torture. I nearly snapped a couple of times. Twilight, the others, my friends and my desire to kill Dainn with my own claws were the only things keeping me in line, barely,” Spike said nonchalantly. “Those two weeks instead of making me change my mind made me all the more certain it was the only solution, my only chance.”

“So Poker Night came again and, as promised, Filthy Rich told me everything I had to do to try and get a chance to get close to Dainn.” Spike chuckled. “Y’know, looking back now, becoming the greatest, richest, most influential and successful female dealer from Ponyville to Neighpan was the easiest part of it. Step zero if you will.” Spike laughed, earning nothing but uncomfortable silence in return.

“Oh man, Pokey, Caramel, and Bulk Biceps were angry at me for what I had to do. But even then I was very, very careful to only train fully Corrupted red collars, a couple of purples and, as much I hate to admit it, some black collars as well.” Spike faced darkened. “You have no idea how many orgies I had to attend to. How many fuck-tournaments, rape exhibitions, blankings, switchings, executions, parties, and females I had to rape. Always with a smile on my face and cup of mare-cum in one hand.”

Spike’s eyes turned white, his fangs bearing to full display. “How many fillies I had to see get raped and turned into reds.” He spoke with an icy cold tone. “The fucking caribou teaching boys barely twelve years old how to treat their pets. Where to stick their dicks. How to punish the fillies. Some of them giving live demonstrations with the fillies. Most didn’t survive.”

Spike closed his eyes and breathed slowly. A minute later he opened his eyes again, now normal, and fixed his gaze on the ursa Judge. “I achieved success in just under six months. And I hated every single second of it. But the worst had yet to come. Because one day I received a summoning to Canterlot by Dainn himself.”

Spike’s eyes filled with tears for the first time and his voice broke.

“O-only i-it wasn’t f-f-for all th-that I had s-sacrificed. E-everything I did in th-those s-s-six mo-months meant no-nothing.” Spike’s eyes turned white again, a blue glow emerging from his chest. “My r-real Tartarus w-w-was just be-beginning.”

Chapter 2 end.

Author's Notes:

Enjoy the second chapter!

Big thanks to Jake The Army Guy for his HUGE helpin editing and proofreading!

I Feel like I should adress this now. While this is a hate fic, I do NOT hate the artists and writters that add to the FOE universe. I hate all that Fall of Equestria is and represents, thats all. Carry on then!