While she was a little embarrassed to admit it, Twilight had read enough fiction featuring secret sex cults and societies (mostly works by the celebrated author, Love Song) to know she was following one of their formulaic plots - curious pony investigates cult for reasons, pony gets caught and tied up, orgy ensues, pony ends up becoming member of cult.

Her pussy turned damp at the very thought of being caught, her virgin body trussed up as stallions lined up to pound the cult’s newest morsel of fresh meat. Twilight ignored the touch of dread she felt in the deepest pits of her stomach. She had to be brave for her friends. Who knows what could be happening to them in the bowels of this house of horrors? She felt herself grow even wetter at the thought of Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy being ravaged in both ends, being used as cumdumps by dozens upon dozens of horny stallions. She had to hurry and get to the bottom of this, for their sake. No pun intended.

Twilight frowned at the bulletin board. The posters and messages were in no way… ‘normal’.

What does all of that even mean?

Deciding the bulletin board was a waste of both words and time, she turned to the site directory beside it. At least somepony had neatly divided the place into three main levels. There were the upper palaces containing the ‘ballroom’, ‘club rooms’, ‘restaurants’, ‘maids quarters’ and ‘private accommodations’. The map helpfully warned her that they were only open to ‘Dominants and accompanied Submissives’. Her raunchy bedtime reading had taught her enough to understand what ‘dominant’ and ‘submissive’ meant, though seeing it used in real life gave her no end of thrill chills.

The main floors where she was contained seemingly innocent things labelled ‘Tea Room’, ‘Gift Shop’, ‘Amenities Store’, ‘Toy Shop’, ‘Administration’, ‘Laundrette’, ‘Seminar Rooms’, ‘Spa and Baths’, ‘Sexual Health Clinic’, ‘Infirmary’, ‘Movie Theatres’ and ‘Viewing galleries’ and was apparently open to anypony including ponies bearing visitor badges. Twilight felt a touch of hope at that.

The lower floors were collectively called the ‘Dungeons’ and extended several floors underground, sprawling out into a network of underground caves and caverns. The areas down there bore labels ranging from questionable such as: ‘Safe Word Rooms’, ‘Submissive Lockers’, ‘Dominant Lockers’, ‘Collaring Chambers’, ‘Sanitation Hall’, ‘Grand Feeding Hall’, ‘After-Care Hall’, ‘Movie Studios’ and ‘Transformation Centre’; Ranging to downright sinister such as: ‘Slave Registry’, ‘Slave Cages and Kennels’, ‘Breeding Halls’, ‘Public Cumdumps’, ‘Milking Halls’, ‘Torture Chambers’, ‘Slave Auction Hall’, ‘Taming Stalls’, ‘Cock Augmentation’, ‘Tentacle Vine Pit’, ‘Mare Breaking Chambers’ and many more. A warning sign restricted entry to the lower levels to dominants and collared submissives. In fact, collared submissives were not allowed out of the Dungeons without being accompanied by a dominant.

Twilight carefully memorized the map, even as her pussy began to leak an uncomfortable shiver ran down her spine with each room label she committed to memory. As she had visitor privileges, she decided to stick to the main floors until it became absolutely necessary to sneak into the Dungeon levels. Thankfully the map suggested that the main floor’s Viewing Galleries ran around the edge of most of the dungeon’s major facilities. She decided to start there.

She looked around. Most ponies passing through the hall didn’t seem to give her much mind, all of them making a beeline for the grand staircase leading downwards into what was undoubtedly the Dungeon levels. She split off from the crowds, taking another corridor. She quickly found the gilded double doors she was looking for, helpfully signposted as the ‘Viewing Galleries’.

A sign greeted her just inside.

Welcome to the Viewing Galleries
Rules:
- Everypony is invited to observe and indulge themselves.
- Dominants are invited to use their submissives.
- Submissives are invited to pleasure their dominants.
- Do NOT engage in any extreme types of play anywhere in the galleries.

Twilight felt another blush rise at the casual way the sign treated public mating. She slinked past it, silently thankful that there was nopony in the galleries, much less anypony ‘indulging’ themselves. She looked about. The gallery was a dimly-lit hall lined with tall glass windows much like any regular observatory. They seemed to overlook the dungeon halls nestled in the gorge's caverns below. A number of touristy tower viewers were mounted along the railings, allowing observers to get a close-up view of the action below. It almost reminded Twilight of the time she visited the Manehattan zoo, except she had a feeling the contents here might be a touch wilder in comparison. As if to complete the comparison, each glass window had a large information blurb to one side describing its contents.

Twilight approached the first one, trepidation rising as she read the header on the blurb - ‘Slave Pens’.

Slave Pens

This is where slaves for public use are stored when awake and not in use (Society Regulations requires resting slaves to be stored safely in the communal cages or in their owner’s personal quarters). Slaves lacking a user would often willingly come here to await use. This is especially true of society-owned slaves who lack a named owner and are free for use by any member of the society. Owned slaves might also be stored here by their own masters or mistresses for free use by other society members as part of their training. Slaves would often strive to make themselves presentable to attract potential users.

Society members in need of a personal slave would visit the pens, browse and try out available slaves before claiming their choice for the evening and taking them for use in the rest of the dungeons. The user becomes the trainer responsible for the slave’s use, care and wellbeing until the slave is returned to the pen or the play ends. It is not uncommon for Society-owned slaves and society members seeking a long-term slave to bond over an evening of play and eventually agree to an ownership contract.

The cold, clinical description certainly didn’t do the pandemonium below justice. It didn’t help that as Twilight stepped closer to the glass wall, some kind of magical field activated, allowing the sound of moaning mares and wet slapping of flanks from the hall below to bowl her over. She did her best to ignore the white noise, focusing her mind tried to tease out any useful details from the chaos.

Braziers suspended from the ceiling lit up the walls of roughly-hewn rock and the smooth flooring of some dark material she didn’t recognize. Chains hung from wooden beams and wall rings. As if to complete the stereotypical dungeon look, a row of cages of various sizes made up one wall. They were filled with mares wearing collars, ranging from single mares in the smaller cages to many crammed into the bigger cell-sized ones. ‘The collared ones must be slaves’, Twilight bit her lip as she looked at the rest of the slaves around the room.

What looked like market booths and stalls were arrayed along another wall, if markets regularly displayed mares posing, some even tied, in a variety of enticing positions. The market-look was completed by mares curled up in cages under and around the stall tables and more hanging from wall chains and display racks, some suspended by their front hooves, some upside down by their rear hooves, like fresh fuck-meat waiting to be ravaged by passing customers. Many more rested on pillow piles strewn around the room, ready to be picked up by prospective masters.

And from the looks of the activity in the room, they didn’t have to wait long. There was no shortage of both stallions and mares wearing masks instead of collars. ‘They must be the masters and mistresses’ Twilight thought. She watched as a pair of pegasus stallions pulled a cage open and, with all the casualness of picking an apple from a bushel, pulled the unicorn mare inside out onto the floor. The mare barely managed to raise her rear and tail into the air and present herself before one of the stallions mounted her, pounding his member all the way into her foalhole in one thrust. The unicorn mare screamed for but a moment before her muzzle was gagged by the other stallion’s cock. The poor mare’s lithe frame tensed and spasmed in obvious instantaneous orgasm, her muffled cries only encouraging the pegasus to thrust harder into her screaming throat. Twilight quickly averted her eyes, the growing heat in her nether becoming more and more distracting, unable to watch a moment longer.

Her eyes only landed on a masked unicorn mistress and earth pony master. The two were idly thrusting their forehooves alternatingly in and out of a helpless pegasus mare who was strung up by her forehooves with her cunny held wide open by some sort of cruel-looking spreading device. The poor pegasus slave cried into her gag as her convulsing body squirted all over the master and mistress’ forehooves. The pair took a look at the fluid dribbling down their hooves, turning it this way and that in the light as if appraising its qualities, before taking a lick like connoisseurs appreciating fine wine. The couple shared a nod of agreement before untying the still-orgasming slave mare and dragging her twitching body along the floor out of the slave pens. It was almost as if...as if they were browsing the stock, trying out the wares before deciding on a toy to play with for the night!

Twilight simply had to get a closer look, the burning in her loins would not allow her otherwise to understand the nature of whatever evil had taken over these normally good ponies. She peered into the nearest tower viewer, training its viewfinder on the nearest row of cages. Her heart leapt as she recognized somepony - her friend, Tree Hugger - in one very narrow upright cage. The earth pony mare’s neck was bound by a white collar, her hooves and thighs adorned with white leather straps, the end of her tail wrapped with a white bell on a ribbon. ‘Those must mean she’s a slave too’ Twilight thought, imagining herself bound and marked as a slave waiting to be used gritting her teeth at the sheer depravity of collaring a fellow pony like an animal, a pet to be kept caged, her lust constantly restrained by her chains, taken out only when her master has need of her willing body.

Tree Hugger’s forehooves were bound high above her head to the vertical cage bars. The bright green mare moaned loudly as she pressed her hungry cunt up against the bar, spreading her pussy lips around its girth as she grinded her tender button and soft mare parts against the cold, hard steel. Her passionate show attracted a passing mare and stallion, both wearing masquerade masks. Their masks did not stop Twilight from recognizing them as Applejack’s rich Manehattan relatives, Mosely Orange and Sweet Orange. The couple paused to admire the ropes of glistening mare-juice Tree Hugger had lathered all over her cage bar.

The magical sound spell on the viewing window seemed to pick up on the object of the tower viewer’s focus, magnifying the sounds from Tree Hugger’s corner of the room.

“Present your pussy for inspection, slave.” Sweet Orange ordered.

“Totally, ma’am.” Tree Hugger moaned softly as she spread her hind legs apart, revealing something that took the couple by surprise – pair of clover clamps tightly clasped to her pussy lips. They were linked to her thigh straps by very short lengths of chain, causing every movement of her thighs to stretch it taut. As her hindlegs parted wider and wider, the clamps pulled her pussy open wider and wider until her tight cunny was gaping for the couple’s viewing pleasure.

“Hmm, good filly,” Sweet Orange smiled, licking her lips at the mare’s surprisingly devoted display. “I like how wet it is already.” She reached through the bars, pressing a forehoof into Tree Hugger’s spread pussy. The poor slave groaned, leaking more hot marecum as her pussy lips winked around Sweet Orange’s intruding forehoof. The slave moaned as she arched her back, struggling against her bonds to push her starving cunny against Sweet’s hoof.

“And it’s especially tight despite it’s wide breeding hips. It’d make an excellent pleasure toy for a few years until we need a breeding slave,” she commented idly, as if appraising a cauliflower at the farmer’s market.

“I like it’s moans. I’m sure they’d feel amazing around my cock.” Mosely Orange said, caressing Tree Hugger’s cheek. The slave mare sensed his wish, obediently opening her mouth for his inspection. “It’s got a nice long tongue I’m sure you’ll enjoy, honey.” Mosely said, peering inside. “It has the throat of a singer, well-toned and tight. I think I’ll enjoy making it my personal cocksleeve.” Tree Hugger moaned hungrily, her face blushing with obvious desire.

“What is your name, slave?” Sweet Orange asked.

“Society-slave number TRHGR - 0384, ma’am.” Tree Hugger slowly, sensuously raised one hindleg all the way up to her head in an admirable show of flexibility, revealing what must be her slave number tattooed in the crux of her inner thigh.

“Oh, how flexible. I can already imagine all the possibilities.” Sweet Orange grinned.

“This is a request, not an order. Would you tell us your real name?” Mosely Orange asked.

“This slave’s name was Tree Hugger, sir,” Tree Hugger said, her naughty smile turning meek upon introducing her real self, “This slave’s special talent is, like, spreading herself around wood of any size and hardness,” her meekness vanished in an instant as she gave the couple a saucy wink.

The moment of meekness was not lost on the couple however, the two blushing briefly at the adorable show. “Before we claim you, tell us, what do you desire, slave?” Mosely asked, reaching inside the cage with what looked like a leash. Except to Twilight’s bewilderment the end of the leash split in three, ending in not one but three clips.

Tree Hugger answered with a half-lidded smile, her tongue slinking out to hungrily lick the clips at the end of the leash. She unhooked her bound forehooves from the cage’s ceiling and took hold of the leash, feeding it through a ring in her collar. Mosely stood transfixed, allowing Tree Hugger to run the leash all the way down from her collar ring to her eager nethers. The Oranges watched the slave mare’s hypnotic forehooves as she curled a hoof around one pert teat. Tree Hugger moaned loudly as she cruelly twisted and tugged her tender teat into standing painfully taut in her grip. There was a loud click as the willing slave clasped the leash’s spring-loaded clover clamp around the base of her own swollen nipple. She gave another sensuous moan as she subjected her other teat to the clover clamp’s merciless grip.

Tree Hugger panted as she took hold of the last clover clamp. She obviously didn’t have a third nipple, so it took Twilight little imagination to figure out where it was going. The trepidation at the thought showed on Tree Hugger’s face, the mare biting her lip as she slowly peeled back the hood from her already engorged clit.

“Good filly.” Sweet Oranges smiled at the lustrous display of subservience from the mare. “Now show me how much you want to be ours.”

Tree Hugger nodded eagerly, humming pleasurably at her new mistress’ command. She whimpered as she slowly, firmly dug the clamp into the base of her clit before ruthlessly clamping the very root, ensuring her clit would remain stiffly erect out in the open for as long as her leash was on. She gave a loud moan as the cold ruthless metal tightened around her hot, throbbing clit, putting herself at the mercy of her new master and mistress.

Her eagerness was swiftly met. She had barely gotten used to the cruel metal on her tender mare bits when when they were suddenly tightened by a merciless tug on her leash. Her moan turned into a passionate cry as the leash pulled her body tight against the cage bars. “Aaaah! M-Master! M-Mistress!” Tree Hugger cried as a constant pull on her leash slowly, torturously tightened the clover clamps on her tender teats and and clit. She was forced to spread her legs even further as the leash forced her tender cunt folds up against the cold cage bar. “Y-yes, t-tighter!” She cried, seemingly completely forgetting her role as a submissive. Her abused pussy leaked as it was spread more and more around the unforgiving metal bar.

“Is that how you beg your master and mistress?” Mosely chided, even as he pulled the leash even tighter.

“That just means it needs to be broken in and taught how to use its mouth properly, in more ways than one.” Sweet Oranges said, grabbing hold of the slave’s hindlegs. She made use of the mare’s obvious flexibility, prying her legs apart even further. The slave cried out as her spreading legs caused her labia clamps to part her tight foalhole even further. Sweet Oranges smiled as she bound the slave’s hindhoof straps to the outermost cage bars. Tree Hugger panted as she offered her forehoof straps to her mistress for her to uncouple them. The slave willingly allowed her mistress to guide her freed forehooves and tie them to the upper outermost cage bars, completing her spreadeagle-ing.

A look of trepidation dawned on Tree Hugger’s face as the clover clamps spreading her tight mare-hole were suddenly untied from her thigh straps by her mistress. She groaned loudly, her fears coming true as the chains were slowly, punishingly pulled apart until her engorged folds were stretched taut. Without ceremony, the chains spreading her cunt were secured to the cage bars, leaving her wide open for the world to see just how tight and wet she was inside. Tree Hugger groaned eagerly as her pussy leaked fresh mare-juice all over the cage bars.

Sweet Orange’s forehooves curled around the slave’s rump in a tight hug through the bars, tugging hard to mash Tree Hugger’s cunny harder against the metal bar separating them. Sweet grinned maliciously as she rocked Tree Hugger against the cage, grounding the slave’s pussy against the cold metal bar mercilessly. Tree Hugger gave a loud cry of forced ectasy as Sweet Orange smacked her rump hard. Again and again, each smack causing her to bounce against the metal bar harder and harder. Moseley Orange licked his lips at the sight of her curvy tush jiggling under his wife’s expert spanking. “Moan harder, slave. I want to be able to hear it through my cock when I spread your throat.” He ordered, tugging the leash in time with his wife’s rocking and spanking. Together the two forced the helplessly-spread little slave to dry-hump her own cage.

“Do you think you’ll be orgasming tonight?” Sweet Orange whispered in the panting and moaning slave’s ear.

“Not tonight you won’t, cocksleeve. You’ll be giving yourself to us, mind, body and soul, again and again and again until you have nothing left.” Mosely chuckled in her other ear. “Are you ready?”

“Y-yes!” Tree Hugger gasped, her entire body trembling like a leaf as the couple mercilessly pounded her spread pussy against her own cage.

“You don’t sound like you want to give yourself to your new Master and Mistress.” Sweet Orange sighed.

“P-please…” Tree Hugger rasped as Sweet Orange drew a particularly desperate cry from her.

“Please what?” Mosely asked lightly, drawing her leash taut, leaving her abused nipples and clit to stretch to the very limit with every forced buck of her hips.

“P-please totally take this slave, M-master, M-mistress!” Tree Hugger pleaded desperately, her breathing short and laboured.

“Good filly.” Sweet Orange’s smile widened as she tightened her grip on her slave’s rump, mercilessly squeezing her pussy and clit against the cold metal.

“Now give all of yourself to us, hard.” Mosely growled, giving the leash a sharp tug.

Tree Hugger’s entire body tensed up as she let out a scream of passion. Thick hot marecum gushed from her spread-open foalhole, staining the metal bar and the floor beneath her with ropey strands of her essence. But Sweet and Mosely did not relent, seemingly intent on milking every last drop as they continued rocking and spanking the mare against her cage. As the couple forced the last throes of passion out of the slave’s quivering body, the poor spent mare collapsed limply against the cage, hanging helplessly from her forehoof straps.

Poor Tree Hugger was still lost in her forced ectasy when she felt herself lurch as the cage was lowered backwards flat onto the floor. “A-aaaannnhhh!” She cried wearily, her entire body suddenly facing the ceiling, suspended from the cage bars by her spread-eagled hoof straps and the two clamps spreading her quivering pussy open. There were three or four inches between her back and the cage bars now flat against the ground. She could probably rest her back on the ground if she relaxed all four legs, but that would cause the pussy clamps, nipple leash and clit leash to stretch her already-tender flesh. As if that wasn’t enough motivation for her, a new prize was suddenly dangled right in front of her nose.

Both Mosely and Sweet had clambered atop her cage, Sweet over her leaking pussy and Mosely over her face. Tree Hugger’s panting muzzle began to drool at the sight of Mosely’s long, thick stallionhood throbbing above her like ripe hanging fruit.

“Oh, do you want something, slave?” Mosely teased, idly rubbing his shaft.

Tree Hugger gulped hungrily, her spread pussy visibly winking. She gave a little nod, subconsciously opening her mouth at the sight of the gleaming bead of pre gathering at the end of Moseley’s cock.

“You think you want cock?” Mosely grinned. “Good, because I’m going to make you work for it. I’m going to make every inch of cock you get an achievement. By the end of the night you will be reduced to a cocksleeve that craves nothing but cock” He milked a drop of pre, allowing it to dribble slowly, tantalizingly. Tree Hugger gave a desperate groan, opening her mouth wide to catch the drop she craved. She managed to catch the glistening rope of pre with her tongue. The slave moaned pleasurably as she swirled the morsel in her mouth, like a connoisseur appraising a sip of wine. The single drop seemed to awaken a fiery hunger in her. She moaned desirously, pulling herself up to the cage bars by her bound hooves with an encouraging pull on her leash from her Master. She pressed her muzzle between the bars, craning her tongue out for more. Unfortunately her nose only barely brushed the tip of the cock she craved, even as she desperately craned her tongue for it.

“Pleaaase, Master!” The poor slave pleaded, pressing her face against the bars.

“Please what, slave?” Mosely demanded as he held her leash taut.

“Please, give this slave your cock!” The cock-deprived mare cried in desperation.

“Oh?” Moseley teased, “If you want it so much, beg me properly. Tell me where you want it.”

“L-like, p-please use your cock to pound this slave’s mouth and make your flare mould this slave’s throat into your all-natural cocksleeve, M-master.” She pleaded.

Her master seemed stunned by his slave’s surprisingly desperate plea. He gave a loud growl of desire as he braced himself. “Give your safety-bell a test ring, Tree Hugger.” Mosely ordered, curtly.

Tree Hugger’s glazed, sex-hungry look evaporated briefly. She nodded, flicking her tail to ring the bell tied to the end, producing a surprisingly loud tinkle. All the other masters and mistresses playing with their slaves nearby paused in their play, their ears twitching attentively. With no more tinkles forthcoming, they quickly returned to ravaging their slaves.

“Good, because you won’t be using your throat for much else.” Mosely’s grin returned. “I will be turning it into nothing more than a cockwarmer.” He produced a large rubber ring-gag. “Any last words before I make you into a perfect little cocksleeve?”

Tree Hugger replied with a deep kiss on her Master’s cock tip. She licked her lips mischievously at the sudden throb of pleasure in her Master’s shaft. Before her Master could reproach her, she obediently closed her eyes and opened her mouth wide.

“Oh, you naughty little cockslut.” Mosely growled as he pushed the wide but flexible gag in her willing muzzle, forcing her mouth wide open. Tree Hugger groaned with anticipation as she felt her mouth spread apart in preparation to become a helpless cock receptacle. “As a little reward for being such a cock-hungry whore, I’ll tell you what this gag is for. First of all, it’s custom-made to fit my extra-wide flare.” He demonstrated by comfortably fitting his cock through the wide ring. He gave a satisfied groan as he fed the first few inches of his shaft into her wet, eager mouth. He took his time, grinding his tip into her tongue luxuriously, making it clear he was using her for nothing but his own pleasure. His slave moaned happily at finally having her hot cockwarmer filled like the cheap sex toy she is.

Twilight reeled at her own thoughts, if only briefly. How could she even begin to think of a fellow pony that way?! But her sopping wet nethers would not allow her desire-addled mind to think of Tree Hugger in any other terms. Twilight pressed her eyes against the viewfinder, eager to not miss a moment of this pony being reduced to nothing more than a naughty plaything.

“Secondly, the gag is here to allow me to continue enjoying my new cocksock while my wife has her way with you.” Mosely grinned. “We have a competition going, you see. She likes seeing how loud she can make ponies scream around my cock, I like seeing how shrill I can make mares scream in her pussy. I hate to admit it, but she’s in the lead...and tonight she gets to start first.” Tree Hugger’s eyes widened as she tried to peer down at whatever it was Sweet Orange was doing. “Ah, ah, no looking down. Neck straight so I can use your throat.” The earth pony slave moaned as her master tugged on her leash, forcing her to obey and offer her throat up to him. “Good filly.” He gave a loud groan as he thrust his flare down the tight ring of her throat.

‘Ulp...ulp….ulp….’ Tree Hugger made exaggerated gulping sounds as she swallowed her master deeper into herself.

“Buck, this cocksock sounds so sexy.” Mosely groaned pleasurably at the eager sounds his slave was making around his cock. “Must’ve had training from Berry Punch herself.” He began to thrust into her, her girlish moans matching his restless tempo. The slave even threw in a few gasps and squeals of delight, anything to heighten her master’s pleasure.

The slave was quickly rewarded by a sudden assault upon her nethers. Her master’s tug on the leash had pulled upon the base of her clit, cruelly exposing its fleshy nub to the silken lashing of what could only be a tongue. Her attacker alternated whipping her clit with her tongue and suckling it down to its constricted base, forcing more blood to engorge its already stiff and swollen head.

Twilight could almost see, no, feel herself in the poor slave’s place. She could feel her mistress’ hoof stretch her spread flower mercilessly as she continued to assault her defenseless clit. Her rear legs would pull her rear up, pressing her leaking pussy against the cage to offer it to her mistress. Her mistress would giggle into her clit at her show of willingness before stretching Twilight slowly, torturously around her unlubed hoof. Her mistress would draw out louder and longer screams from her, only for her throat to massage and milk that fat horsecock in her mouth. Neither would care for the forcibly drawn-out pleasure assaulting her body. They were merely using her helpless little body for their own pleasure like the sex toy she was.

Twilight felt a hoof rubbing her helplessly leaking pussy lips. She was surprised to find it was her own, frantically trying to keep up with Tree Hugger. “No...noooo….” She gasped in one final act of denial before she completely gave in. She was the slave, helpless in the hooves of her owners claiming her body as their own. She gave a muffled cry of acceptance as her master thrust his thick stallionhood all the way down to the hilt, every throbbing inch flaring hard, anchoring himself deep inside her throat as he shot rope after rope of hot seed to fill her waiting belly. Her mistress bit down on her clit before twisting and tugging mercilessly as her hoof pumped her abused pussy into a forced orgasm. Amidst that blinding white pleasure, she gave herself to her master and mistress.

Twilight panted, her quivering body propped up by nothing but the tower viewer. She finally gathered enough strength in her quivering hooves to pull herself up. She felt confused at what was happening, even more shaken at what she had just done. She had just clopped to her friend being tortured. ‘W-was that the power of the e-evil spell of this place?’ She thought, fearfully. It was so strong that even the Element of Magic was beginning to succumb to its power. ‘Wh-what would happen to me if I stayed any longer?’ She thought as she shakily peered into the view finder again. The view was strangely fuzzy, as if the tower viewer was running out of magic. But she could just about make out the Oranges as they untied Tree Hugger’s limp, quivering form from the cage and threw her across Mosely’s back like a sack, a cum sack.

“I like this filly, honey,” Mosely said casually as his wife went about tying the slave’s hoof straps together, “I think she’s a keeper.”

“We’ll have to take our time breaking her for the rest of this weekend then,” Sweet said. “Though you know I haven’t tested how good it’d be as my new pussy-brush.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll be able to make her scream enough to rock your world, honey.” Mosely grinned. “How would you like to be my wife’s new stool, slave?” He asked the slave draped across his back.

“This slave would totally be super happy to be her new Mistress’ throne, Master.” Their slave whispered, weakly.

A soft blush bloomed on Sweet’s cheeks at her new slave’s words. “You won’t disappoint me. I’ll train you hard to make sure of that,” Sweet Orange said, cupping her slave’s glowing cheeks with her own forehoof. Together they left the slave pens, obviously intent on spending the rest of the night breaking in their new slave.

‘I-is that what I m-might become? I-if I let this spell take over me?’ Twilight thought. Her pussy leaked anew legs wobbled beneath her. She had never known such desire fear. ‘No, this is no time to be a fraidy-cat, Twilight. Your friends need you!’ She steeled her resolve, ‘I need to get closer if I’m going to study this curse.’ She gulped as she looked down at the slave pens below, ‘I’m going to have to blend in. I need a better disguise.’ She thought, quickly. ‘Yeah, I’m going to have to find myself a collar and leash.’ She absentmindedly ran a forehoof across her bare neck.

It didn’t even occur to her that a mask would have been a much better idea.