"Pleasure does not exist without pain."
"Pain and pleasure are the same emotion..."
- Cherry Stellar

Hanging upside down sucked — Cherry decided that then and there, especially after ten minutes of it. It sucked hard. It certainly didn’t help that she was feeling progressively more nervous as the dimly lit room far below crept ever closer at the same agonisingly slow pace. She could partially make out the large stone tiles of a floor and by straining her ears she could just about make out… music?

The warm, rich, atmospheric tune of a lute filled the slightly chill air of the shaft and room below. It was distant and soft, as if being partially blocked by a silencing enchantment. Her mind instantly raced; she knew only a hoof full of ponies that played it. Was this somepony she knew? Was this just a coincidence? She only caught a glimpse of the pony’s hooves as her sight was taken from her not a second later by a blindfold, while her gag was removed from her muzzle.

“Ah my plaything has arrived, finally,” a low, gentle voice cooed. The voice was distinctly masculine, though she hadn’t expected him to sound as though he were singing to her. Cherry could feel the blush creeping onto her cheeks, at the mere thought of being serenaded by her Master while he sexually broke her down drove a part of her wild with the unusual idea. It was definitely one of the stranger thoughts to have crossed her mind. She couldn’t help but imagine the stallion. From the tiny glimpse she had seen, she could tell he had a jet black coat. She found herself picturing him with a shocking snow white mane, and a sculpted, muscular physique. She shivered in excitement and could already feel a bead of arousal running down her marehood at the, perhaps childish, thought of him being her dream stallion.

“You’ve kept me waiting for quite a while,” he commented idly. The sound of a unicorn’s magic flaring up rang out under the sweet, almost romantic lute music. Cherry suddenly felt the cold caress of a riding crop tracing along her lilac coat, slowly progressing to her teats. “Now, be a good toy and remain silent for me,” she heard him whisper, his faintly minty breath tickling the coat on her cheek. She squeaked loudly with the sudden realisation that he was mere inches away from her ear, even though the source of the music hadn’t moved.

Her squeak of surprise brought with it the loud crack of the riding crop, the sharp sting to one of her teats coaxing out a beautiful cry from the tiny mare. “Tsk… I told you to be silent,” he chastised. She could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he repeated the stinging blow on her other teat. She was prepared for this one and only flinched, biting down on her bottom lip to restrain the moan that almost escaped her muzzle. “Atta, filly, nice and silent. Don’t worry though, we’ll make you sing soon enough. I do love this song so much, don’t you?”

Confused for a moment, she shifted her attention to focus on the music, realising it was a familiar melody. Distracted by the music and trying to place the sweet little piece, she failed to really take notice when the stranger began to untie her forehooves, letting out a pleasant coo as she felt the belt being undone; her wings instantly fanning out with an audible ‘pomf’. “Wait a minute… that’s Autumn Delight’s ballad of- oh buck.” She silenced herself quickly, but it was too late as she heard the buck’s dramatic sigh.

“And here I thought you were going to do so well,” the stallion said calmly. “Test your bell for me, slavething.”

She gulped a little and willed the bell attached to her tail to chime once for him as he requested. The chime was clear and loud as it was supposed to be, echoing through the large room, overpowering the lute’s music with ease. She didn’t say anything aloud; she didn’t dare as she was likely already in too much trouble for disobeying him again so soon.

He didn’t say a word after that, she could simply feel the rest of her restraints being steadily removed one by one, save for the spreader bar. She hung there limply, her wings spread out in a shameless, instinctual mating display.

Curse these wings. I hate it when they do this. Can’t even pull them to my sides… she mentally muttered. The lack of wing control wasn’t exactly helped by the fact she could feel his hoof wandering her soft coat, as if perusing an item of fine furniture he might buy. He barely touched her, but the tickling sensation was enough to force a giggle from her.

“Such a lovely little voice, slave,” he cooed into her ear before roughly biting down on it with a powerful, dominant growl. In that moment the calm, collected colt was suddenly replaced with a savage, feral beast of a stallion. It made her heart beat faster, sending a shiver of excitement down her spine. Cherry could already feel fresh droplets of her own arousal running down her belly. She silently cursed her body for being so easily excitable.

“Hmm… yes, you’ll sing for me like…” he trailed off for a moment, not hesitating, but pondering his words. “Like a beautiful living instrument,” he whispered, coaxing a small gasp from Cherry. Then there was the sudden tingle of magic as she was levitated and brought to an upright position, leaving her dizzy for a long moment as the blood rushed from her head back to the rest of her body.

By the time her senses were back to normal she noticed the distinct softness of silk flowing along her coat. She could feel the fabric slide across her chest, under her armpits, and looping back over itself before running up to bind her mane into a ponytail. It crossed her belly and her hind hooves, up to the spreader bar where she assumed the two ends met. The silk harness was a comfortable one, the soft fabric feeling luxurious even as he slowly let her weight rest in it. She didn’t feel any pinching or discomfort, showing how skillfully done it was, by hoof even. She was quite impressed with that last fact; not many unicorns did this by hoof. The final touch was her hoof cuffs being bound together.

The sharp *click* of a hook being secured echoed through the room, signaling that she hung there bound, blindfolded and entirely at his mercy. It left her weak and unable to do anything about the cruel, wicked activities he was planning for her. “If the harness gets uncomfortable or it hurts, ring your bell three times. I don’t want a damaged instrument.”

“Yes, Master,” Cherry whispered quietly. She could hear the soft, muted steps of padded hooves walking away from her. The distinct sounds of glass being set out on stone followed. She couldn’t see what he was doing, and it only made her all the more nervous.

The stallion muttered to himself in that low, melodic voice of his. The mention of her weight made her blush a little and the grinding of stone on stone was quite strange. Though the words ‘syringe’ and ‘potion’ were enough to send her mind racing and desperately guessing at what he might be planning for her, it didn’t take long before she felt his presence again, his hoof cupping her cheek, pressing a warm cup to her lips.

“Drink,” he growled in that authoritative voice that made her marehood tingle with excitement. She obediently opened her mouth, letting the stallion pour the contents of the cup down her throat. A multitude of tastes assaulted her, along with the heady, musky scent coming from whatever he was feeding her. It lit a fire in her core: a fire that slowly spread through her body, making her gasp. She vaguely recognised the sharp bite as a mixed drink she once had: Starbright, if she recalled correctly. It was a clear, silver liquid, with a bite sharper than vodka; it had the added effect of making her a whole lot more sensitive… yet this one’s effects were different. Cherry most certainly couldn’t recall an overwhelming sense of lust like the one that was starting to cloud her mind being a part of it.

The light, barely touching caress of his hoof along her cheek felt so much more pronounced. The gentle gusts of his minty breath so much more stimulating and sensual than it had been before. The growing sensation of need in her marehood now felt like a roaring fire of desire. She found herself panting and squirming in her bonds. She was so acutely aware of her surroundings: the soft heat of his presence, the painful sting of a syringe making contact with her flank and delivering a dose of Celestia knows what… not knowing making it all the more exciting.

His hoof slowly slid from her cheek, gently forging a path down her chest, barely even touching her. Tormenting her with the light, tickling caress. He let out a low ‘tsk’ as he reached the small stains on her belly; she screamed as his hoof suddenly dug into her marehood, roughly cupping her drooling, winking snatch. “Fucking slut. We’ve not even finished preparing you and you’ve already begun making a mess of things.”

She wanted to say something, but she couldn’t. All that came out were cute squeaks and squeals of pleasure, her body writhing against his incessant hoof. She loved a good rubbing to her wanton pussy but she was so sensitive from whatever cocktail he had fed her it hurt... but oh did it hurt in all the right ways. She cursed the harness and the lack of an ability to hump back against his hoof.

“Yes… I think my instrument is ready to be played,” he cooed lightly into her ear, his tongue ever so lightly licking the inside to coax out a cute little mewl from Cherry.

Cherry let out a groan of disappointment as his hoof pulled away. The tiny filly wanted to protest; she didn’t want him to stop touching her; she wanted him to make her scream with pleasure. Just as she was about to utter her plea, his hoof slapped across her flank with a resounding smack, the sting of it radiating a pleasant warmth across her flank. She screamed in a sweet mixture of pain and pleasure, her hips giving a light buck against a hoof that was no longer there. “M-Master! M-may I have another!?”

The second strike came in the form of a stinging lash against her left teat, making her cry out as a white hot lance of pleasure shot through her form once more. Her voice echoed through the chamber, the acoustics of the room doing their job perfectly as they amplified her cries of delight. Her admiration of the room was cut short when the stallion lashed out with the crop the moment her cry died down, striking her other teat.

With time they fell into a steady, gentle rhythm. Her screams becoming the melody of her slow surrender to him. He alternated the power and intensity of each blow, forming her cute screams into a symphony of pain and pleasure. Each bite of the whip filled her with an ever-growing sense of submission, each time it stung her winking clit, she wanted to cry out for more, like the wanton little slut she was. Time quickly became untraceable, there was only his presence and his riding crop making beautiful music with her blissfully tortured body. She came to relish in every moment of being played like an instrument, His instrument.

It was quite the disappointment then when he stopped with a low, but definitely satisfied, sigh. He was sated, however she was left hanging there, yearning for more. The burning need in her core had only grown ever larger into the roaring inferno of desire that it was now.

“Hmm… I believe it's time for a change of pace,” he mused to himself, and before she could question his meaning, a cold, round object pushed onto her burning hot, winking marehood. It pressed firmly against her, bringing with it an involuntary shudder. She shrieked the moment it started vibrating against her needy marehood, her shrieks soon turning into long, drawn out moans of pleasure as the familiar buzzing of a vibrator graced her ears. She pulled them back, her cheeks lighting up in a light blush, hips instinctively rocking back against it. “You may not cum, toy,” the stallion, her Master, said tersely.

“Y-Yes Maaaaaaster!” she wailed aloud in affirmation. The vibrations were rocking her body and sending an overwhelming assault of pleasure to her mind. The haze of lust was clouding her vision. She had been told not to cum but she knew she could never obey that order; not with how he was grinding the bulbous head of the wand vibrator against her love button. He was forcing all the vibrations and all the pleasure that wonderful device could deliver, through the most sensitive point on her body. Her Master wanted her to fail this.

Cherry didn’t make it easy for him, or at least she tried not to. Her screams and moans were only getting louder and it wasn’t long before she was pushed over the edge, thrown into the abyss of a screaming, mind-shattering climax, the blackness of her vision turning white as her mind and body was simply overwhelmed with the rush of endorphins.

She could feel her juices coating her inner thighs. She felt herself relax as the orgasm claimed her entire body until eventually her thoughts returned to her. It was one of the best she’d had. Her vision, if she had been able to see, would have been blurry. Her tongue listlessly hung from her mouth and a trail of saliva ran down her chin, dripping to the floor below. Her breathing was left soft and rhythmic; it was the perfect climax, save for the lack of a warm body wrapped around her.

Coming down from the high of her climax brought with it the realisation of her disobedience. She was acutely aware that her Master wasn’t at her side any more, the deathly silence in the room making her worry. Had he abandoned her there? Was… was she going to be left alone for her disobedience?

The room was devoid of any sound for what felt like hours to Cherry, it was maddening. The thoughts of being abandoned were growing more and more distressing for the tiny mare. Though the soft clicking that began emanating through the room quickly caught her attention and pulled her away from darker thoughts.

The crack of a flogger finally pulled her out of her own insecurities and doubts. Her Master didn’t hold back as he lashed her marehood harshly, coaxing out a particularly loud scream of painful pleasure. She didn’t care if it hurt as long as she she wasn’t alone anymore. He was still giving her attention and it settled her mind as she cried out loudly. He chuckled softly at her and lashed out again, drawing another cry. She noticed the lack of unicorn magic sounding, he was using his hooves rather than magic. It was rare for a unicorn to do that and still be able to push so much power into a strike. She drooled a little; her Master must be nice and muscular indeed! Though, there was always the possibility the sound of magic had been a diversion in the first place.

“I am disappointed, Slavething. Now I have to punish you and delay the main event further so,” he said plainly, keeping his voice neutral. Pondering the words and what Master meant by ’main event’ wasn’t high on her priorities as another sting of the flogger rocked her tiny form. She had a particular fondness for floggers, but he didn’t know that and she relished in the whipping he was giving her, as it satisfied that burning heat inside of her core. Throwing her head back, she let out another blissful scream as one of the strands hit her clit in just the right way, sending waves of pleasure crashing through her body.

The whipping continued for quite a while longer, leaving her pussy sore and red, but she had managed to hold back another climax after the twentieth lash to her delicate folds. Her mind was numb with the sensation of the stinging pain radiating through her puffy lips. The sudden transition to the sharp sting of clover clamps being attached to her teats made her shriek out as they tightened cruelly. As he released them, she also became acutely aware of the weights dangling from the chain. She wailed out in pain as her nipples were pulled down by the weight. “Ah, your cries are such a lovely melody,” he purred, the sadistic glee in his voice was impossible to miss.

“Now … let’s tally that unauthorized climax,” he purred into her ear. She felt something cold pressing up against her flank, like two prongs of a… her eyes widened. She had only really seen a phaser once before and it certainly hadn’t been used on her. The ominous clicking of the dial on the wicked little device was the only sound for a long time. Click... Click... Click... passing all the settings until the suddenly ended. He was slow in turning that dial, the meaning was clearly to strike terror into her, which worked as she trembled like a leaf pinned down in violent winds. She shrieked out in terror as she was zapped with the phaser, it left a single dot on her flank, the first of her climaxes accounted for on her Master’s scoreboard.

The shock it sent through her system made her hair stand on end. It was probably more painful than anything she’d ever experienced before but as she came down from the shock, she noticed how it had kindled the fire in her once more. It had hurt yes, but it was a kind of pain she enjoyed. The kind of sensation that made her crave more of it, even though she knew she wouldn’t get any until her next climax.

He laughed at the way her body twitched and writhed afterwards, his warm breath blowing past the freshly made mark before he ran his rough tongue along the bright dot on her coat. He shivered, listening to her low moan of pained pleasure. “Don’t think your punishment is over yet,” he cooed, his neutral voice doing little to hide his sadistic glee.

Cherry gasped, feeling the sensation of cold metal against her flared out wings. Before she could move them, each of the clips clamped around her joints, pressing painfully down on pressure points only another pegasus should know. It coaxed out a half-choked scream of pleasure and pain. Her body registered it as both: retracting her wings brought pain, spreading them brought an almost addictive sensation of euphoria. She could not help but flare them out, showing the typical pegasus mating display, her cheeks burning brightly in embarrassment. Her breaths came in panting gasps and she was vaguely aware of saliva dripping from her chin, even though she wasn’t actually gagged at the moment.

She could feel the stallion working with the ropes, pulling her free from the suspension bondage. She soon also felt the tell-tale tingle of magic around her, her Master’s presence close to her side as he carried her off away to someplace new. She felt the soft embrace of silk, it was covering a stone, or at least she assumed it was stone; it was hard, and there was a coldness to the silk that she was placed on, likely seeping through from the smooth rock below it. Her hooves were tugged over her head, the cuffs on each of her forehooves swiftly fastened to heavy chains. Her hind hooves were pulled and attached to a raised surface, spreading them forcefully, all her weight was supported on her shoulders, there was no pressure on her wings as she lay there flank up in the air.

“Now, stay silent while I gather my tools, understood?” he instructed in a soft, caring tone.

“Yes, Master,” Cherry responded in a low, nervous tone, the word ‘tools’ so frightfully vague.

It didn’t take long before he returned to her, placing a small case down beside her on the floor. Her Master pulled away her blindfold and lowered his mask.

Cherry’s eyes met familiar toxic green ones, the eyes of her very best friend. At that moment, it felt like her heart stopped as recognition bloomed across her face. “G-Gale?” she gasped in surprise, startled by the sound of her own voice.

She took him in: his white, muscular physique -which was oddly enough framed by a pair of fluffy white wings, that ended in light blue tips. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him, his harsh, amused chuckle slowly guiding her back to reality. She took a look around herself, the room was dark; the drab stone walls and limited furnishings gave it the hair raisingly frightful feel of an old fashioned dungeon.

She was laid on a plush silk cloth, a deep scarlet in colour. It was hard to properly see the stone around her, but she could make out the artfully carved depictions of mares and stallions in submission matching the yoke she had been made to wear.

“W-why!?” she demanded, her first instinct being defiance against what he was doing to her. An outburst she quickly came to regret as a swish cut through the air, followed immediately by the snap of a riding crop as it hit her ears, stinging pain shooting through her, radiating out from the impact. Her head snapped to the side with a loud squeal.

“I didn’t say you could speak, slavething,” he snapped, his voice angry, despite the tiny bit of concern apparent in his eyes. He followed the slap with a kiss to the cheek, though his uncaring expression remained intact — the same expression she knew he used every day while he was on duty. It sent an involuntary shiver down her spine and, along with whatever he had fed her, it made her wanton pussy quiver with desire: desire for her best friend— no, for her Master.

“As for your question: well, I saw your name on the list and…” he trailed off, placing both forehooves on the altar, presenting her with his painfully erect member. “I’ve always wanted you as my mare… or rather, as my little servant girl. For me to do with as I please, to have you warm my bed after rutting senseless,” he explained casually, overtones of lust lacing his voice. He began ravaging her with his eyes.

“When I am done… you’ll be wearing my collar.”

“N-No! I’m a red collar!” she protested, though it felt as hollow and as meek as she did. The thought of going back to random strangers after this... it seemed almost pointless to her. He had pushed all of her buttons in just the right way…

She shook her head. “NO! I’m not wearing your collar!” she reaffirmed with a playful glint in her eye. He would have to do better than this before she would even think about surrendering.

He chuckled once more, a smirk forming on his muzzle which soon grew into an evil grin that made her shudder. It was a simple gesture, yet it promised her so much: pain, pleasure, being claimed by a strong stallion.

The fact that he was her best friend quickly fell to the background of her mind and then simply faded into nothingness. Closing her eyes, she simply stuck out her tongue at the stallion murmuring the simple, phrase: “Do your worst, Snowy.”

She knew he hated the nickname and the growl emanating from the stallion told her that she had, in fact, crossed the line leaving her in a world of trouble. She inwardly grinned to herself.

“Fine, but you asked for it, slavething.”