Chapter 3: Rampant Consumerism

Only Celestia and Luna were enchanted brainwashed possessed controlled into lusting eternally for Martin as to ensure a steady supply of emotion from him, but all five of his mistresses were nonetheless addicted to him, and it made him wonder why cocaine never starred in PSA’s telling the little chemical components to say no to humans. But there was a reason Martin was only having two of his… not holes, whatever you call them for boys, repeatedly violated.

If they all had their way, they’d all… have their way. With him all day everyday. But after Luna put on her ring the same evening as Celestia, the two adults noticed the Dazzlings bickering over who to enthrall next or what to buy Martin, and forced them to all take three deep breaths, sit in a circle, and pool group opinions to work out a step by step plan. “Resource Management”, “Analysis”,“Planning” and “Execution” were the four components of RAPE, the democratically (Martin figured this was how colonial women and slaves felt) decided plan that would lead them to victory over first Canterlot, then Earth, then Equinstia, or whatever the hell Twilight’s world was called. Luna and Adagio had him Saturday night and Sunday because the leader and the newest recruit (who now decided the next target) were best suited to handle the send off.

And without constant arguing to distract them at home, and everyday until Sunday as designated “reward time”, Martin had more than proven his endurance and value as a sex slave by the time Sunday rolled around.

It was now Sunday morning, and as was true much of the time, his only articles of clothing were his enchanted necklace, and four pairs of the fluffy pink-sleeved handcuffs binding his limbs to his bedposts, while Adagio bounced up and down his raw cock, and Luna ground her crotch across his caked-with-honey face as he tried to used his equally sore tongue.

Since Adagio was used to doing all the work herself, he focused entirely on Luna, and gave her another vertical lick, brushing against her clit and causing her to gasp and spasm on top of his face again. Adagio pumped her knees up and down on his raw cock faster and faster, and Luna’s crotch was getting drownier and drownier, which meant this whole nightmare was almost over.

Shame and fear hadn’t worked in keeping him sane, Martin was now trying optimism. To a gambler, the boy who’d been asked to introduce the new girls was not a very good bet, but Martin had remembered what it had felt like to see Sunset transform, and then feel himself die when, as he he was later told, he was turned into a zombie by her magic. Pretty soon the magical six would find out, free him and the principals, and brutally disembowel the Dazzlings. He just had to wait it out.

What was strange was that he’d concocted his master plan partially in the hopes of getting on his mistress’s negative-emotion eating nerves, but they didn’t seem to notice. Weird. But anyways, he just had to make them cum, then he’d go see one of the magical six, and they would save him.

But that first part proved difficult, because Luna was grinding so fast now, he could barely get his tongue in. She’d slide up on his face, giving him just a split second to breath through his nose while trying not to choke on her juices, then she’d slide back down and smother him again.

His eyes were, of course squeezed tight to protect them from the stinging solution of urine and mucus (the term “honey”, he’d learned, was very misleading), but lose any sense for long enough, and you're other’s start to compensate. He could tell that Adagio was in a white-eyed daze from pumping in and out of the very realistic dildo beneath her. She was also probably fondling her own breasts, because she may have liked to be in control, but a warm, thick meat is the ultimate distraction.

Eventually Luna seemed to realize that grinding his face was actually counter productive, and stopped to position herself directly on his face again. He knew it would be awhile before he could cum again, but Adagio was giving off her signature “close” moans, so this was his chance.

He pushed his tongue into Luna and wiggled it around. And upon finding her cunny, he somewhat painfully pushed his face further in so he could wrap his lips around it. Luna tensed up, knowing what was next, and sure enough, after giving it a quick flick of the tongue, it was like a vacuum had been attached to her clitoris, sucking the pleasure right through her.

Now both of them were pumping vertically with their knees and giving the moans Martin never got to. He was in such a daze he wasn’t sure if he could still breathe any more, but it didn’t matter because they were both about to mark him as their territory with their juices. Again.
3, 2, 1,

“Uuugh!”

“Euuugh!”

They both came, and because his penis only breathed metaphorically, he kept focusing on the cavalcade flowing from Luna’s snatch. Just like he’d “practiced”, he pursed his lips and blew outwards, then shut his mouth as tight as his eyes and let it gush down. Luna didn’t sit up to let it fall down like the others, so the warm solution simply pooled in the cavities of his face, and slowly oozes out from under her and down the sides of his face. It was no coincidence the term “mask of honey” had made its way into one of Martin's english class poems since he’s met the Dazzlings.

Adagio to, was coating his dick with juices that seeped out of her warms fold and onto his hairless crotch (the streams that flew onto his scrotum were always his least favorite part). He knew he was in for a long shower afterwards.

It took forever, but they both came down at roughly the same time, and finally exhausted, they sat all their weight on him, panting lightly. Luna leaned forwards a bit, giving Martin enough room to spit out her fluids and gasp though his mouth. He hadn’t cum, so waiting silently for one of them to finally get up was actually as boring as his life life got now. He preoccupied himself with thoughts of the day.

“Okay, two options: One, they’re not as done as they seem, in which case, fuck I might actually get to cum again. Or two, they are, I’m gonna have to go kill see my next target.”

Luna gave a final sigh and lifted her right leg to slide off the bed, leaving Martin with a rapidly cooling and drying honey mask, which wasn’t a pleasant feeling. He turned his head to the side and tried his best to wipe the juices off on his bicep and the sheets, and felt the weight on his crotch lifted and the warm sleeving around his aching cock slide away. He made no attempt to get those juices off in the hopes that when they cooled, they’d numb his raw steak.

“I believe you’ve gained another 50 XP, ” he heard Luna compliment as she wiped her crotch with a towel. “Perhaps you will level up today.”

“Still think he’s up for taking on Rarity?” Adagio asked from the other side of the bed. Martin would have to agree that he was as ready physically as he was psychologically. His tongue felt like he drank too-hot coffee, and his dick like it’d been abused all last night, morning, and night in his dreams, which it had. At first he’d welcomed sleep, but now the only way to distinguish between dream and reality was to wait and see if any of the Dazzlings turned into dinosaurs while raping him.

Still though, he forced himself to give a mental smile (one does this by recognizing the emotion, and not caring if it goes through) at how they thought Rarity, the girl who’d defeated other dimensional demon girls with her friendship, wouldn’t notice anything amiss.

“I have every confidence he is,” Luna replied with a formal but cheery tone that never meant good things for him. “He just needs a little *milk sloshing* nourishment.”

Martin’s will to smile faded, reminded of how he ate now. Cautiously, as to not get honey in it, he opened his left eye and sure enough saw Luna holding up her oversized bare breasts.

“And are you sure you’re ready for this? I know Celestia can do it but hers were already-” Adagio stopped when Luna gave her an angry glare. Martin wasn’t sure why Adagio remotely cared what her puppet who only superficially had more autonomy than him felt, but he was literally about to be breastfed by his vice principal whose tits had grown three sizes that day, and he’d enjoy it. He only asked questions about his own motivations now.

Intent on proving Adagio wrong, Luna bent down and held her right tit to Martin’s face. Martin was starving, and he knew what to expect, so he put his did his best to get a grip around the hard pink bud with his lips, and sucked.

It’d been little over a week, and though he’d hated to admit it at first, lunch during the week was already his least favorite meal. After the magically enhanced ambrosia that started collecting in their mammaries until they bloated like a toad, normal food felt and tasted like shit weighing him down in the stomach. It was the taste of pure sugar and the texture of high fat milk. And judging from how it killed his exhaustion and hunger for hours, had the nutrient value of a rare steak. When Sonata had first fed him, he came so fast he never felt himself get hard. It was still a surreal and odd-feeling experience, like drinking through a wall, but it didn’t really arouse him anymore. It was the part of his new life that convinced him to acknowledge the good with the bad, and it was a shame that Sonata’s idea of taking turns getting their milk drained to be turned into milkshakes and ice cream for Martin would never come to fruition, because contrived and made up odds were that rescue was mere hours away.

“So, Cutie Pie,” Luna spoke as she tried to control herself in the face of being drank from. They’d agreed with Sonata’s idea because feeding time was almost as much fun for them as it was for him, but Luna’s tongue was the only one his new name felt foreign on. “After breakfast, you’re going to take a shower, get dressed, and go to Carousel Boutique to get yourself some more embarrassing clothes and enthrall Rarity, correct?”

Still audibly sucking, Martin nodded. Luna realized what she’d just said, and the thought of him returning in a banana suit gave her a brief smile.

“Rescuerescuerescuerescue” Martin sang in his head

*Ding dang dong*

Like whenever he saw his mistresses, Martin only saw blue, purple, pink and yellow at first. Since the Fall Formal, he, along with probably the rest of CHS, had the magical six only a few steps below the Power Humans in terms of how real seeing them in person felt. And Martin could add “targets” to “classmates” and “heroes”; the list of things they’d been in the past few months months.

But since the pink and yellow jumped and squeaked at the sound of the… doorbell? bell of the door? bell, he knew exactly who he was dealing with. Fluttershy and Rarity turned their equally iconic and stunning teenage faces away from the blue dress on the stage they’d been working on, and when they recognized him Fluttershy became even more scared, but Rarity was only mildly surprised at the entrance of Canterlot’s hottest gossip topic.

“Recuernotvictimrescuernotvictimrescuenotvictims,” Martin changed his tune of optimism, also trying to avoid looking at their breasts or crotches out of thought for the future.

Fluttershy’s face softened and she lowered her arms as Rarity approached the dangerous monster that they could make feel horrible with the slightest slip of the tongue. Again, Martin lamented that she wasn’t scared of him for the right reasons… Unless she was, and they were just playing along!

“Martin, darling, what brings you here?” Rarity said with her hands on her hips as the two of them met in the center of the room. She took the opportunity to quickly eye up the mystery boy, as if she could tell what was up with him just by looking at him.

“I’m looking for some clothes,” Martin gave the Captain Obvious answer. He didn’t have to be able to indicate something was wrong, he just had to wait.

“Well you could certainly use some,” she thought out loud. Martin was taken aback by her terse response, he got plenty of insults at home, but Rarity continued. “I’m sorry darling, but a mostly beige logo on black?” she questioned his choice of t-shirt. “I certainly hope you’re not taking those girls out in this.”

With her second comment, Fluttershy gave a silent gasp and covered her mouth at Rarity’s brashness. Twilight had said Applejack was honesty, and even she’d never tell, not ask, someone who they were dating when it’d been the school’s hot topic for a week now.

“Um, maybe I should be going now,” Fluttershy pointed towards the back door. Martin’s heart skipped a beat at the possibility of being left alone with his target. He looked across the room wanting to tell her to stay, but surprisingly, Rarity did it for him.

“Fluttershy, wait! I’m sorry, darling, we can still finish with your dress just as soon as we’re done here!” Rarity said in a remorseful haste as turned around and reached out for Fluttershy as she edged her way towards the doorway. She was instinctively apologizing to the Fluttershy and not the boy she’d directly insulted, but Martin understood from history class that if you hurt anyone, you hurt Fluttershy twice that amount when she found out anyone had suffered.

“Oh, that’s okay. You have a customer now and we can finish tomorrow. Goodbye!” Fluttershy said with a “get me out of here” look, and flew out the back door.

Despair demanded a place in Martin’s heart as he saw the door close behind her, but in accordance to his self-mandated positivity, he forced himself to push it aside and come up with another reason for her departure:

“She already knows something is wrong. With any luck, she’s calling the others right now.”

His wishful thinking quota satisfied, he looked down at Rarity, who watched her delightful confidante flee with open-mouthed surprise and sadness. But after the door slammed shut behind Fluttershy, the determined fashionista sighed lightly, and turned back to Martin.

“So Mr Saylin. Again, I’m dreadfully sorry if I’ve-,” she paused and looked down briefly. “This is hardly what I hoped to happen when you finally entered my boutique, but honestly, having a partner, or three, none of my business, does not excuse you from having standards of appearance.”

Martin wasn’t sure what to make of her comment. Of course he wanted to tell Rarity that they were only his girlfriends according to Sonata, and according to Sonata the world was flat. But he also wanted to tell her that they were alone in a room now when girls in China were the only one’s remotely safe from the lust spell. It also finally occurred to him to ask himself if it really mattered to RAPE if people believed he was having nightly, but consensual foursomes with the Dazzlings. Should he should have told people that before? They’d all been too polite to ask. And now with Celestia and Luna? They’d avoided being seen together in public, but people were bound to get suspicious sooner or later, and Celestia had already said (while Martin ate her out of course) that she’d been asked about her new ring. What would happen when half of CHS was wearing the rings? Poking holes in the Dazzlings plan was his new counting sheep since it was the only reason he could sleep at night (aside from usually having gone at least seven rounds straight), but he was still under orders to help them, and Rarity needed a response.

“We-We’re more like, uh, friends with benefits?” Martin finally answered with an awkward smile, hoping he got the meaning of the term right. Rarity gave a real smile, and turned around to walk back towards the mannequin.

“Again darling, none of my business. But the fact that you’re here means one of you, or three of you, or I suppose- ONE PARTY is not fully satisfied with how you dress. And I can tell you…” she stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. “-Nobody satisfies clothing better than me.”

She turned back around and spread her arms demonstratively, sitting down on the stage.

“Welcome to Carousel Boutique, where every garment is chic, unique, and magnifique! Tell me, young man, what is it you se- are looking for?”

“Well,” Martin ignored her attempts not to sound like Zecora, felt embarrassed, knowing he’d been told to “surprise” his mistresses, but hadn’t actually had any ideas. Sure he was there to mind control Rarity into a conscienceless demon, but he didn’t want to frustrate her by not having an order ready.

“I was thinking… ” He was thinking that the necklace already suffocated him enough, and anything he put on under their orders, no matter how skimpy, would feel like a clingy, restraining straight jacket (another object with a misleading name). As per his orders, he he felt obligated to find something arousing, but he knew next to nothing about clothes, much less which ones were considered sexy by women. He figured visible skin was a fairly universal turn on, and they certainly liked him in his boxers, but however crazy the CHS students dressed, he couldn't exactly go to school in underwear or underwear like clothes. Perhaps a leather jacket? Or just a tight t-shirt? But Rarity couldn’t just throw those together like a dress, could she? The Dazzlings would need to be more specific with their instructions in the future.

“Never mind,” she cut him off with a wave of her hand. “I think I know just what you’ll need.”

“You do!?” Martin said surprised and relieved. He quickly realized that what little embarrassment he’d be spared by Rarity choosing something “surprising’ for him was not much cause for relief, but he’d figured whatever Rarity cooked up all feel equally painful to wear anyways, and now he didn’t have to describe anything. The responsibility of an outfit that the Dazzlings would like, which he had the utmost confidence Rarity could make simply by examining their clothes, was all on her now, especially if his mistresses didn’t like it. He also told himself that the rest of the magical six were probably on their way, so it didn’t really matter.

Plus, he’d spent a minute in a room with Celestia before she gave in, but now, he noticed, he didn’t feel even the slightest bit more independent, which meant most of the necklace’s magic was still focused on him. When Luna asked if the five might be immune to the necklace the same way Sunset couldn’t brainwash or kill them with magic, Adagio dismissed her by saying something about them needing Twilight (which reminded him a whole nother world was counting on them she’d be waiting on the other side if miraculously they took Sunset over and found out how the mirror worked), but Rarity hadn’t even licked her lips yet.

“Indeed! Run along upstairs to my sewing room, and I’ll call you down when it’s ready,” she gestured towards the stairs to her right.

Since he’d come to associate the idea of “anywhere but here”, especially in regards to stairs, with his mistresses and their games with him, his first instinct was to shudder as he was reminded of every time he had to go home or to the library. But when he looked at the purple colored fancy flight, he forced himself to think what felt an awful lot like rationally.

Obviously, he knew from experience going anywhere someone who had even the slightest possibility of wanting to rape him told him to go was ill-advised, but he checked his drive to have sex with Rarity and get new clothes again like a cellphone battery, and it seemed well above “meh, I’ll do it tomorrow” levels. Rarity’s display of affection towards Fluttershy unbecoming of an animal in heat also served as pretty compelling evidence Rarity didn’t want them to be left alone either.

He looked back at Rarity, who sat there smiling that happy, confident smile that told anyone who let her handle needles in clothes that they were wearing that they were in good hands. Of course, if there was any one of the magical six who could hide their lust and fake sincerity and remorse, it’d be her, because ripping off a boy’s clothes and raping him in broad daylight was most unladylike, but she still couldn’t hide from the magic. If she was sending him upstairs, instead of the more isolated downstairs to hit him in the back of the head and then go to town on him, he figured he’d at least feel free enough to ask politely decline.

“Okay, thanks” he replied, and walked towards the stairs. He didn’t want to want to, but he wasn’t afraid afraid.

“I’ll be but a moment, darling. I’ll holler when it’s ready.”

As turned the corner and placed his hand on the purple bannister, he briefly wondered if Rarity didn’t have sex with him, he’d be forced to rape her. The image of him pinning her down, and tearing off her blue shirt and panties simply because he felt obligated to sprung to mind, and the necklace couldn’t stop him from pausing for a second on the first step. If it ever came to that- No! He’d been directly ordered to have sex with her a few times (they’d talked about it all weekend, and used several different phrases), but didn’t cannibalize Adagio when he was told to eat her out (even if he wished he did), and knew they only meant for the purposes of enthralling her. If she really could resist the magic, she wouldn't get addicted to him even if he did rape her. He’d just have to return to his mistresses having triumphantly failed.

He began ascending the stairs and saw an open purple door leading into a brightly lit family hallway, he was reassured he at least had a little time.

“Rarity seems like she can resist, and her friends are on their way. Things may finally be looking up!” he thought as he entered the hallway and started looking around for the sewing room.

“What a sexy, young fool,” Rarity thought.

Martin’s faith was somewhat wavered when he saw a four bannister bedroom in Rarity’s sewing room (though if his fears were confirmed, he’d have to compliment her on her word choice to make him feel better).

He wasn’t sure if the five minutes he waited in the bright room went fast or slow. Numerically it was nothing compared to the hours outside social worker’s offices, and he’d learned of appreciate every moment he had his cock in his pants, but anticipation can do wonders to the mind. He’d worried if the Dazzlings didn’t like the tame ensemble Rarity was working on, he’d be forced to show her images of male strippers and say he wanted to look like them. Also, he’d come to regret his decision to optimism in going up there, because potential rapists are a strange thing: you never want to see them, but you never want to let them out of your sight either.

Martin resolved himself to sitting on her bed and staring at the open door intently while he waited. Whatever Rarity brought with her, he’d at least see it coming. But even though he heard her low heeled boot on the stairs and in the hallway, when he first saw what filled the doorway his first thought was that he’d gone through a mirror into an alternate dimension without realizing it.

Rarity, or, Ytirar, as he thought she might be called there, was dressed like a Dazzling!
Admittedly, that was a vague description, but he knew what she was going for the moment he saw it, and in one of the blessed moments in which losing his cool would not be to the detriment of RAPE, he leaned back on the bed in shock.

Her pride and joy, her hair, retained its dark purple glisten as it was tied up in massive pigtails with spiked bands. A ruby heptagon hung around her neck by a leather choker in clear imitation of his mistresses, and was the only thing covering her pale skin down her bare shoulders.

Over her torso, running down her arms, and doing little to hide her sizable unbraced breasts was a black, but glittering with silver sequins, shoulderless long sleeve shirt of thin fabric. And below that purple jeans matching her hair, and a pair of dark leather boots.

Martin looked up and down the fare-skinned coed’s most surprising (by a small margin) piece to date, but he didn’t notice her expression until she spoke.

“Do you like me now, Martin?

“Huh?” he looked back at into her blue-shaded, angrily dimmed eyes. Her fair but chiseled and beautiful face now framed by her unobstructed shoulders and upper breasts and “aggressively” put up hair.

“I said, darling,” she walked over to the bed and stood in front of his reclined figure, hands akimbo and face calmly angry. “Do you like me now?”

Her expectant glare down at him reminded Martin of Celestia during her capture, and he realized the reality of the situation. She wasn’t immune. She’d just taken less magic to convince, which is something he’d never tell her to her face, but was all too true.

“Rarity-” Martin tried to respond, even though at this point he was compelled to want it to, so any one possible response on his part was as good as the next.

“Because you parade around with those three immature harlots, but can’t be bothered to give any proper lady a call. I thought maybe a similar, but greatly improved, if I do say so myself, sense of dress might make you come around.”

Rarity’s motivations were hard to describe, but clear: she was dressed the way she was in a mocking way of getting attention. She didn’t need him to give her attention to satisfy her longings, as he knew she was about to prove (there was only one way these interactions went. The fact that they didn’t know his enchantment would keep him from tattling until afterwards was evidence of the necklace’s effectiveness). But she was acting like she did to make fun of what she might do if she did need it. One might call this a form of societal satire, but Martin called it scary, especially since he still didn’t feel the least bit free. And that meant he still had orders.

Martin sat up slowly, expecting her next sexually charged line to come soon. But she continued to glare down at him silently for several seconds, and he realized she apparently wanted a response.

Martin had remained mostly silent with Celestia and Luna because what was he supposed to say in situations like this? “Come around? Yeah Rarity, I see it now? You’re totally the best *stands up and puts his hands on her hips* I see that now. Let’s totally have sex.”

“Come around? Yeah Rarity, I see it now? You’re totally the best I see that now. Let’s have sex,” he said as he stood up and put his hands on her hips. As expected, Rarity’s normally dimmed eyes went wide at his sudden and forced 180. She dropped her hands to her sides and looked up at the strange boy, and briefly doubted her decision to “court” him. Had Pinkie Pie put him up to something? Did he want something from her and was just playing along?

But standing inches away from his red stone that glowed invisibly, logic was not much of a factor. She’d cast him a glance or two in the hallways whenever she was in the fantasising mood, every girl and quite a few boys did, but the same was true for Macintosh and Soarin. She’d never really realized how she felt until after she saw him wearing that necklace. Now, every physics class or assembly she’d see him, and feel desire and longing, followed by a glance at the red ruby that stood as a taunting symbol of his unavailability. At first, every time he stepped out of her sight, she would berate herself for letting her lusts get the better of her and being jealous of the choices of a boy who she barely knew. But every time she saw him, her images of him in a tuxedo, giving her a night on the town before eating her out while she sipped champagne, became more and more vivid. How was it remotely fair that she’d saved the world and got nothing, whereas three girls had dressed atrociously and gotten him? It was asking this entitled and frankly dangerous question that she’d worked up the courage to masturbate to his image on Wednesday, and she’d started throwing together her “maybe someday” outfit on Thursday (though she’d had to assemble one for him to, just to have an excuse).

When he’d entered her boutique, she’d somehow felt hot before she even turned around. She couldn’t admit her thoughts to her friends of course; either they wouldn’t understand her search for a gentleman, of they would and be jealous. She had a responsibility to Fluttershy, and was rather enjoying their project, but when she departed, and Rarity spent just a minute time seeing her teenage hunk in his true form, her anger and lust building, until she decided “maybe someday” meant “in five minutes, definitely”.

And he was now saying he wanted to have sex with her. It’d be rather foolish of her to look this fine stallion in the mouth.

“Alright then Mr Saylin,” her smile returned, much to Martin’s internal chagrin, and she placed her finger on his forehead and pushed. Recognizing one of Adagio’s favourite moves, Martin let go, and allowed himself to be “pushed” back to sitting on the bed. “But, I’ve spend a considerable amount of time and resources just to make you realize the frankly obvious. I think,” she pulled her hands back to her hips. “That I deserve a little more than what your normally do with those arrogant whores.”

“I doubt I could do that if I tried,” Martin thought, maintaining his blank expression, but still weary of what was to happen next.

Rarity turned and took a step over the the nightstand, and opened the drawer to remove four leather belts.

“Strip naked, lie down, strap yourself in, and I’ll consider letting you cum today,” she ordered as she tossed them to him.

“Seriously? Twice in a row?” was what Martin thought in annoyance, but you’d never have known it from his gulp.

On top, Rarity kneeled on the bed with a smile. Beneath her, and feeling her cold hand stroking his bare inner thigh was Martin Saylin, and to say he was in a compromising position was an insult to compromises.

He’d known when Rarity took out the leather belts and ordered him to strip, it would be minutes before he was on the bed, butt naked, and spread eagled. Rarity’s bed was significantly more comfortable than his back at the apartment, and the leather tied, while tighter around his wrists and ankles, felt a little more organic and natural, but otherwise it was a very familiar position.

Or it would have been, if after Rarity was done securing his hands for him (sorta killed the mood, but one can’t exactly bind oneself with belts), she didn’t go into the other night stand and take out a blindfold and a ballgag. And the latter didn’t even make it into his mouth, because he’d decided several bundles of her panties and a strip of duct tape was more appropriate.

He couldn’t see, he couldn’t talk, he could only breathe through his nose and taste fabric, and he absolutely, positively, could not resist. And Rarity loved him for it. She’d been running her hands up and down his bare, beefy thighs, just admiring her “prize”, for almost three minutes now. She understood how that term objectified him, but seeing his muscular body all trussed up underneath her, she understood why the boys liked objectification so much.

The fact that to her knowledge he was a willing participant was of supreme disinterest to her now. She’d all but forgotten his awkward and forced compliance; now he was bound and gagged, stripped of all outward signs of his autonomy (besides his erection), and an object for her to do whatever she want-

Martin felt the five cold digits stop midway up his thigh, and for once his optimism was correct in that Rarity was reconsidering, but only how, not if, to proceed with her new boy toy. As much as she liked him the way he was (as in “tied up and waiting to be sat on”, not personality wise of course), keeping him tied to be her silent, motionless fucktoy forever was a flawed plan to say the least.

One of the great things about being a fashion designer is that vision is everything. Rarity could envision a clothing article, and the rest was just details. A similar thought process, with debatable fortune, had been applied minutes earlier as she debated whether or not to follow her desires with the boy who most physically resembled her vision of the perfect boyfriend upstairs none the wiser. She’d already completed step one of the manufacturing process; acquire the correct materials i.e. a docile stud tied up in her bedroom. It was now time to cut and sew them correctly to match her vision, though she would vehemently deny she in any way resembled Dr Frankenstein.

She looked his toned, hairless, sexy body up and down once again, and smiled.

“Mr Saylin, or, Martin, as I suppose I should come to call you,” she began matter-of-factly as she moved her hand from his thigh onto his cock. Without sight, or even the feeling/smell/taste to compensate, hearing Rarity’s voice felt strange, like the voice of a goddess in purgatory. When he realized where she was going though, the feeling of his new tiny sliver of illogical hope was dashed was as familiar as that of a hand on his length, or just about anywhere on his body with what his mistresses did in the losing fight of keeping sex with him fresh. It didn’t make him feel much better now that he knew he was just one orgasm away from killing Rarity. “You are a very attractive young man, but I hope you understand that I’m not the type of lady to settle for any fairly muscular bimbo, yes?”

“Yes, fairly muscular bimbo, right here!” was what Martin wanted to say, though the word “bimbo” felt strange in his mind in a way “slut”, or other terms commonly used for women did not. Still, seeing obeying her as the quickest way to sex, he nodded (though he curled his toes as he did).

“Good. Then you understand that if you truly want to be my gentleman, we can still have lots of fun together, but that unlike those three whore, I have non-carnal desires that you’ll have to cater to.”

The hypocrisy of her saying this while she started stroking him off, dressed like one of said whores, was not lost on Martin, but he nodded again.

“Firstly,” she continued to pump, and although her hand was cold like Celestia and Luna’s the first time, Martin felt the pleasure in him building. “you’ll never let another girl touch you, except when I say they can, and you won’t be afraid of their childish jealousy.”

Again, Martin was no debater, but he saw the hypocrisy in her words, and felt a twinge of anger, thinking that a lust spell shouldn’t do away with one’s logic. When Celestia wanted him, she’d fucking raped him without any pretense of righteousness or entitlement. And when he was brought home to Luna, they’d shared! Still though, once she was horny enough to slip the ring that was now on the floor in his pants pocket, Rarity would get a whole lot worse (though whether or not she’d retain her jealousy was in interesting question). Thinking back to Fluttershy, and how slow buses could be in town, Martin nodded.

Rarity hand was as smooth as her skin, and she stroked up and down with a slow patience the Dazzlings never had. It felt wonderful at first, but it soon became too slow, and Martin fought the urge to thrust into her hand at the pain of denial. Wait, fight?

“Secondly, as much as your T-shirts make a spectacle of your physique,” she already spoke like he had absolutely no free will of his own, though his nodding wasn’t helping her case. As she spoke, he felt her start to lean further down, bringing her fact to her hand/his cock. “From now on, you’ll only be picking the clothes I choose for you. In fact you’ll only be picking anything I choose for you. I’ve taken you under my wing, it’s my responsibility to educate you about upper class culture.”

Before Martin could nod or draw other parallels to slavery (or, historical slavery, he supposed), she suddenly gave his cock head a long, wide lick from above. Martin jolted underneath her and gave his binds a tight pull, when he first felt her wet tastebuds on his most sensitive area. She scraped her entire tongue along the sizable tip of his member, licking up all his pre-cum and leaving him spit polished.

“Correct?” Rarity asked as she resumed her handjob, but Martin didn’t nod. He sort of felt like he should, but like when Celestia or Luna went on him the first time, his mission fell in priority in his mind, and he felt power and feeling slowly returning to his numb body.

“I repeat: From now on, you’ll only use the things I pick for you!” Rarity reiterated as she sped up her strokes, frustrated and confused by Martin’s failure to acknowledge the order like he had all the others. Did he think she was going to make him cross dress? Not really her style. And even if it was, what right did he have to refuse her?

Well Martin knew that he wasn’t going anywhere, and that that was probably why he felt so free. And though he figured he could probably make out “Ifff huh hhazzzulingth! Urth eeeing hind hunthrolled!” through his gag, but he still had enough of the opposite of fight left in him to not be so direct. Instead, he figured since Rarity still seemed to have some amount of sanity and clairvoyance left in her, he’d do his best to show her he wasn’t willing in the slightest.

First, he tugged on his right restraint. Then he tugged on his left restraint a little harder. Then the formerly still boy became a tempest of movement in the span of a second. Twisting, tugging, bucking… in the non-sexual way, every which way. His cock bent unnaturally in Rarity’s hand as he desperately tried to dislodge it, but Rarity adapted to the new game quickly, and pressed her left arm against his chest, doing her best to pin her down like her principal before her.

“Now, now, Martin, it’s far too late for second thoughts now,” she said, her breath brushing against his abs. Truth was, his struggles felt a bit like a game to him to. The rules said he couldn’t cry out anything meaningful, and if she actually did start to back off he’d probably have to entice her again, but the opportunity to squirm and writhe and go “mmmmph” while he was being raped was not one he was willing to pass up. He had two weeks worth of struggles to vent, and Fluttershy was coming with reinforcements anyways (though that felt like part of the game to somehow), so he was more than willing to play it.

Rarity’s arm did a surprising amount to stop his from arching his pelvis up out of her reach, but his cock felt like a fish out of water (a real one, not like Twilight was) with how how it was starting to flop around, and she knew finishing the handjob was out of the question. She let go and pulled back out of Martin’s reach for a second, allowing to bring his hips a full six inches in the air.

For seven whole seconds he held the position of a bridge. The newly created space underneath him felt vulnerable now, and the position was killer on his head, but at least his cock was out of reach, and while up there, he felt it soften. For a moment it seemed like victory was at hand (again, illogical hope), but then he felt Rarity, who’d been watching him with a confidently sexual smile, put her hands on her hips and pushed him back down onto the bed.

Once again trapped underneath Rarity’s surprising strength, Martin continued to struggle. He shook his legs and pulled his arms (undoing the belts seemed either impossible, or too possible, he wasn’t sure), but his leverage was gone now.

“And thirdly, Martiny Wartiny,” she reminded herself never to use that name again, but continued with her third major rule. “We have lots, and lots, of sex, whenever I say!”

“Nnnnth!” Martin screamed through his gag.

Rarity let go of him, but Martin was too afraid of what was coming next to start writhing again, at least not before he felt her lean down again and envelop his cock with two soft, squishy, all enveloping flesh pillows.

Martin gasped, and nearly choked on the panties as Rarity continued to position both their organs most fuckably. Then without a word, she started sliding up and down on him. Martin twisted and pulled his upper half again, and bucked his hips once, but Rarity kept him well within her bosom no matter where he went, and his struggles actually did a lot of the work for her.

Soft flesh on hard flesh started to make the latter harder, and what Rarity said next between his struggles got him to calm down, but also sealed the deal on his erection.

“Martin, as adorable as this game of hard to get is, I have personas and costumes besides these ones. If you continue to misbehave, I’ll be forced to make use of whips, rings, and anal plugs.”

Martin’s pelvis stopped mid air, and he realized that even after a week of fucking like rabbits, the only pain he felt was emotional, or relegated to a denied orgasm, a sore body part, or a taunting slap on the ass. Despite many of Aria’s comments, his ass, which he knew would break like a rubber band the moment anything went up it, had been left alone. The now crazed but beautiful girl above him, who had a definite talent for fabrics, in a black leather corset, crotchless panties, and thigh high boots, brandishing a whip was something he wanted to avoid as long as possible, even if his cock said otherwise.

Martin slumped on the bed, and accepted the fact that it didn’t matter how mentally free he was now, Rarity already had him in the position most regular molesters would kill for.

“Marvelous darling. Now if you’re through resisting me giving you a tit-job… Ugh, I hate that term. - we can have some real fun.”

She resumed stroking him up and down again. Pre-cum oozed from his tip once again, replacing the dried saliva. It was warm, dry flesh on warm, dry flesh again, and being blind, it was like every stroke was pulling at him through the darkness, pulling him closer to-

No! Martin remembered why he had to resist. It wasn’t for him, it was for her, and for CHS and for Earth and Equinstia. Celestia and Luna were bad enough, but to do this to Rarity, his classmate and his hero? Then again, she was slower and more methodical than any of his former mistresses, and the bed was pretty comfortable-

No again! He was Martin Saylin, not Cutie Pie, the boy who loved being tied up and fucked. It was a cliched declaration, but it was at least 60% true right now, and that was what he had to think. It’d only been a few minutes, Fluttershy could still be on her way with help. And if she wasn’t, sooner or later Sweetie Belle would come home. This wasn’t a position he wanted anyone, much less an underage girl to see him in, but that was kind of the point. So long as he didn’t cum, both of them were safe. He wasn’t as altruistic as to struggle and risk breaking his never-been-whipped track record but he still steeled his mind, and started holding back for the third, but hardest time in his life.

Of course, it was at that exact moment that Rarity started using her tongue. And not just flicks across the tip. Everytime she descended and got a little surface area, she’d stick out her tongue and lick his underside on the way up, combining a blowjob and a tit-fuck. And she did it again, and again, until his top 1.75 inches was as wet as he could smell she was now even through his gag. Because of her positioning, the spit didn’t smear either, and his cock felt like it had two halfs: the thickening bottom half, pleasured by her breasts, and the thinner top half, an ocean of bodily fluids, that Rarity was sucking her own enslavement out of.

It’d been little over a minute since she’d started when Martin started having to tense his muscles to avoid turning her face even whiter with his load. He lamented that most of the time his mistresses were happy to have him cum whenever they wanted, so his time with them had only really given him the stamina to go multiple times in a row.

“Why thank you, darling,” Rarity noticed his efforts without needing to see his face properly. “But this is really for your benefit. Go on, cum anytime you like. When we’ve been together for a bit we can start actually training you.”

Without moving, Martin tried to deny the pleasure he felt once again. He didn’t try to think of disgusting things anymore, he just remembered pleasure was just a sensation like pain, only it told the body to keep doing what it was doing. There was nothing he could do about the command, but this time he could stop listening.

“It’s just a feeling. It feels good, but so do drugs. It’s just your cock. It’s not important,” he told himself silently. Just like with Celestia, he felt his cum, pushing, demanding an exit. He couldn’t blame them for wanting to fulfill their evolutionary purpose, but it hurt so badly!

Rarity pumped and licked and squeezed faster and faster, but never so much as to give the appearance of a lack of control. She’d done this before, albeit with more openly willing participants. To make him cum for her would give her the pride in having claimed CHS’s recently crowned most desired boy, and before that happened, she knew she would just feel emptiness that simple lust couldn’t explain.

Martin had held back longer than she ever thought possible of such a seemingly weak and inexperienced boy, but she could see his clenched eyes and gritted teeth through the blindfold and tape, and knew he was armed and ready to blow. Deciding to act as the detonator, she squeezed and licked him until she was positive one more stroke would set him off, then stopped.

Martin felt the pain of release and inevitably thrust into the air coming, but he remembered what Rarity had said about only letting him cum if he was good, and thought she was going to give him a final command. Still though, he savored the single second as one Rarity wasn’t addicted to him and soon to be dead, and possibly one Sweetie Belle or Fluttershy got a few steps closer to him in.

Then Rarity gave him a light peck on the cockhead, and he swore he shot gallons of sperm for hours on end.

While he was away “helping” Rarity (that was the euphemism they’d decided on), Aria and Adagio felt just the tiniest bit nervous for the first time since they’d found Martin. After he’d left, not in plan, but simply needing something to do with Martin gone, they’d rendezvoused at Celestia’s house to spend the day and realized it’d been easy to sic him on a weak willed mortal like Celestia (“No offense.” “None taken.”), and they’d watched when he took Luna, but the magical six still felt like uncharted enough territory to warrant caution. Plus, sending someone else to clothes shop for you (or your benefit) is never a good feeling. Needless to say the phone call from Rarity asking them if there was some way besides a hideous ring or necklace that she could wear her jewel was welcomed.

After telling Rarity they were working on it, Celestia calling back to ask her to put Martin on the line to make sure it wasn’t a trap, and a short walk, all five (or five out of six now) sirens and owners of Cutie Pie stood outside the door to Carousel Boutique, and even Sonata knew enough to be excited.

It was almost 9:00, and the streets were barren, so they felt comfortable having a laugh at Luna’s banana suit comment. A minute after knocking though, they were surprised when the door was answered, though in neither the way they expected, nor a good-for-the-world way.

“Principal Celestia! Vice Principal Luna!” a green-eyes Sweetie Belle squeaked, before looking behind them at the less familiar faces, which were sadly the ones she’d been told were most important. “And, uh, mistresses?”

Aria and Adagio frowned at their lack of recognition, but Sonata pushed past and put her hands on Sweetie’s shoulders.

“Hi there, little girl, what’s your name?” she smiled.

“Sweetie Belle, mistress. Rarity tol-”

“Oh my gosh! My name starts with an M to! I’m Sonata!”

Confused, the enchanted brainwashed possessed controlled little sister of the Dazzling's newest lieutenant continued.

“Rarity told me that she’s evil now, and that I’ll be mind controlled until I’m old enough.”

“And when you are old enough, you can get your very own ring,” Sonata gestured towards Celestia and Luna’s hands. “And rule the world with us!”

“Really?!”

“Really!”

Aria and Adagio may have been pleasantly surprised to be greeted by physical evidence that puppet sirens could control people without singing, since Celestia had recommended they wait to try it, but seeing their sister coo with the little brat was disgusting.

The sight forced Luna to think as well, about how she’d changed. Just like her sister had assured her in her post multiple orgasm daze, all she felt when she put her ring on was powerful. Yet seeing Sweetie Belle, Rarity’s pride and joy, made eternally happy and obedient with magic simply because even they weren’t low enough to make Martin have sex with children (the lust spell still worked on ones who had already hit puberty though, so he’d have to be careful), made her question just what the red stone on her finger really meant. Not that she objected though, she felt better and more powerful helping the Dazzlings than she felt she ever had before, and Sweetie Belle was rather cute this way.

“So, Sweetie Belle, could you please tell us where you’re big sister and Martin are,” Celestia asked in a kind, but not annoying to Adagio and Aria tone.

“Oh! Right! Come on in, they’ll be down in a second!”

Every step Martin took on the way downstairs was torture. Wearing the outfit Rarity had made for him was even more painful than he’d expected, because as well as feeling like a prison, it greatly emphasized sexy over comfortable, and he figured this was what girls often complained about.

The orange flannel shirt chafed and reminded him of why he always wore t-shirts before. The gold spiked collar, similar to Adagio’s hairband, which Rarity had promised to get modified to be like a dog’s collar, was equally unforgettable, especially since he was already being choked by the necklace that now hung underneath it, but the worst was his crotch.

Even unerect his cock was squished against the boa-constrictor-tight purple leather of his pants. And although there’d originally a thong in the bag Rarity had brought up and figured it might’ve been pretty sexy, Rarity could anticipate his mistress’s needs far better now, and tossed them out. And when Rarity learned he wasn’t to be her gentleman to train, she’d solved his stamina problems with a red rubber cockring she claimed she’d been keeping for a special occasion, that the two of them proceeded to test and prove that it could indeed prolong erections as if metal, but would only pinch when his cock was was erect, as to be worn 24/7.

In the dimly lit showroom of Carousel Boutique, the five sirens waited as they heard the sound of cowboy boots coming down the stairs. It was a miracle that Martin made it all the way down the stairs at night with the purple sunglasses he was wearing, but a dark orange cowboy boot and dark blue leather pants leg stepped out into the room, and the most provocatively dressed boy any of them had ever seen followed them, spreading his purple leather jacket wide to show off his flannel shirt (which made Adagio blush a little), then doing a 360 on his heels, making Aria.

Thankfully, he hadn’t been ordered to smile, since Rarity felt bad about doing a fashion show with only one piece, but with his glasses hiding his normally dead eyes, it would have been convincing.

It was hot in his outfit, and the sweat of performing made it hotter. Fluttershy had never come, and when Sweetie Belle did, Martin had been forced to tell Rarity she could simply use the ring to control her, which made him wonder why he ever saw her as potential salvation. Optimism hadn’t worked, Martin was all out of ideas. And judging by Rarity’s reaction when he saw her control Sweetie Belle, that was good news for his mistresses.

“Fellow sirens,” they all heard from the stairs, accompanied by clopping female boots. “I have fully embraced your particular way of life, and as my first contribution to evil, I present to you, Cutie Pie (ugh. Cutie Pie? Really?).”

Rarity uttered the last part under her breath as she followed Martin out into the room. When she saw Celestia and Luna in normal clothes, and all five of their expressions of shock, instead of being discouraged, she saw a challenge in combining every of-age CHS student’s personal preferences and personality into a uniform code of unorthodox combination dress and pronounced colors, and gave a happy shudder at all the work she had ahead of her.

“Well thanks, Rarity,” Aria said contemptuously as she threw off her jacket and began walking towards Martin. “But I’ve been waiting all weekend for this…” When she was close enough, she grabbed Martin and pulled him into a hard, passionate kiss.

Looking past her, Martin saw the remaining five take a step forwards, and knew they were all going to be late for school on Monday.