Equestria Trainers' Society: Fish Out of Water

by Schorl Tourmaline

First published 5th of November, 2017

The Trainers' Society has their sights set on a rare target, a female kelpie by the name of Scylla

Scylla is a kelpie, an aquatic breed of pony, and for most of her life she had lived among other ponies without issue. However, when The Society learns of her existence, they wait for an opportune moment to make her into their newest acquisition, along with her adoptive father, a pegasus named Pathfinder. But the Society seem to have bigger plans for Scylla than simple sexual slavery, and she in her training the kelpie learns of one of the hidden reasons for the Society's existence.

This story has many dark themes, including kidnapping, rape, and sexual slavery. if you do not enjoy reading about these things, then it is highly suggested you don't read this story.

Cover art made by Scylla the Kelpie. Visit her tumblr page at http://ask-scylla.tumblr.com/

Introduction

The chiming of a bell sounded, shortly followed by the cheerful announcement of “Welcome to Pathfinder’s! How may I help you?”

“Pathfinder’s” was a store located on a beach on the shores of Vanhoover. It was a quaint establishment, owned and run by a pegasus of whom the store was named after. The store itself was a map making store, which was a great place to stop if one was a tourist, and needed to know of the interesting sights that Vanhoover had to offer. One of the most interesting and unique sights though, lived within the store itself.

Standing behind the counter in a pink t-shirt, blue jean skirt, and white apron, was a mare by the name of Scylla. At a distance, one might mistakenly see Scylla as just a normal pony mare, but with a closer look anyone could tell that she was not an average pony. Unlike other ponies, she didn’t have any fur to speak of, but instead had a layer of rubbery grey skin covering her body. That wasn’t the only difference either, as where normal ponies had tails made of long strands of hair, she had a thick tail of meat that ended with a fin. She had another set of fins on her back, looking a bit like a pair of pegasus wings, and lastly she bore slits on her cheek that were in fact gills for filtering oxygen from water. The only similarities she shared with normal mares was a general shape, and a mane of red hair atop her head.

No, Scylla was not an average pony. She was what was known as a Kelpie, a pony much like a sea pony, but with slight variances. Scylla’s body had no scales, only smooth flesh and webbed areas to help with swimming. She was more like a dolphin than anything else, though lacked certain qualities like a blowhole. Not that the average pony would know that, as kelpies themselves were reclusive creatures who didn’t usually interact with land ponies, preferring to hide away in the water from those unlike themselves.

However, Scylla didn’t share this trait with her species, and was a fairly sociable pony. One could attribute that to Pathfinder, the pegasus who had adopted her at a young age, finding her abandoned near a riverbank with no one else about. Thus, Scylla grew up and adapted to a life around creatures outside of her species, and became one of the many treasures ponies came to Pathfinder’s map shop to see.

“Hello Scylla,” said a mature looking gryphon as she entered the store, “Is Path in?”

Scylla quickly recognized this womanly feline fowl as Anya, another oddity of the town, as she was the only gryphon to reside in Vanhoover. She was a long term friend of the family, having a close relationship with Scylla’s adoptive father.

“Oh! Hello Anya,” she said to the gryphon, slightly embarrassed that she mistook her as just another tourist wanting a map. “Dad’s in the back packing up for the trip.”

“So tomorrow’s the big day, huh?” the gryphon stated, leaning over the counter and placing her elbow atop it, “I bet you’re excited.”

It had been known to most in town that Pathfinder’s was going to be closing down for a while, to allow the two that ran the shop to go on a long vacation.

As Anya assumed, Scylla was very excited about this, but was able to contain her energy inside of her brightly lit, cheerful smile. While Scylla enjoyed her job as a counter clerk, the thought of going away someplace away, where she wasn’t considered a tourist attraction, was appealing. Especially when that place happened to be Haywaii, a small set of islands that was a little bit off the coasts of Equestria, but still within its dominion. The entirety of the islands was suppose to be a large tropical resort, with rumors saying that they dealt with aquatic ponies fairly often, so Scylla wouldn’t have to worry about sticking out like a sore thumb and attracting ponies to her like flies on honey.

That sounded wonderful to Scylla, a time where she would be able to sit back, relax, and have ponies catering to her every need instead of the other way around. Maybe she would even find a stud who could show her a good time on the island, both on the beach and in the sheets. Her eyes practically shimmered with the thoughts flowing through her head about the things she would see and do once she got there.

“Hey Scylla,” Anya said, snapping her fingers in front of the daydreaming kelpie, “You still with me?”

Scylla snapped back into reality, shaking her head to remove the visions of paradise from her eyes. “Sorry, just can’t wait till tomorrow. Me and dad are going to get on a pegashuttle first thing in the morning and be there by noon. Then it’ll be fun, sun, and stallion buns for a whole three months.” She said, picturing more sexy studs in swim trunks in her mind.

“Sounds like a riot,” said Anya, “But before you go, Path’s gotta give me that thing I ordered.”

“Right! I’ll get him right away.” Scylla ran from the gryphon, her tailfin bouncing along and hitting the floor as she practically skipped the whole way.

Heading into a door in the back, Scylla entered the living area of the store. Pathfinder’s, while a place of business, also doubled as Scylla and Pathfinder’s home, of which they had lived for several years. Aside from the store area, the home had two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen, a living room, and a couple of spare rooms that the two used as personal spaces. The room directly connecting to the front half of the building was the living room, and there, standing in between a coffee table and a couch, stood a brown and white pegasus stallion.

This was Pathfinder, the store’s proprietor, and painter by trade. He was an attractive, pretty stallion, with a short cut mane of brown, and lovely green eyes that matched Scylla’s own. Every map in the store was created by his talented hands, though it was Scylla herself who did the legwork for the process, going around and collecting data for Path to go off of. The two made a good pair, as Scylla loved to explore around, and Pathfinder liked illustrating what his adoptive daughter told him about.

Right now though, he was busy trying to stuff one final pair of hoof socks into an already over packed suitcase. Pegasi were more known for athleticism than strength, and Pathfinder was not one the rare few that broke that mold, so he was having an awful time trying to close the clasp on the case.

Seeing his struggle, Scylla rushed to his side and added her own weight to the top half of the luggage, which allowed Path to finally get it closed and locked up tightly.

“Whew” he exclaimed, wiping a bit of sweat off his brow. “Thanks for the help, pumpkin.”

“No problem,” Scylla replied as she removed herself from the case, always happy to be of assistance.

Path gave her a small peck on the forehead, and then asked, “Did you close up the shop?”

“She was about to,” Path heard in response from the doorway to the shop, Anya having followed after the kelpie, “But I came in looking for a certain pegasus who owes me a painting.”

“Right, I got it right over here.” Path said, walking away from the coffee table and to a covered canvas he had lying in the corner. “I thought you’d come for it sooner, almost thought I’d have to wait another three months before handing it over.” Both Anya and Scylla went to the pegasus, and watched as he unveiled what was underneath.

The painting was of a beautiful waterfall, pouring down into a flowing river, with sun rays gleaming down on the water to make it shine. A simple landscape painting of a location not too far away from the shop itself. Anya had wanted the painting to keep, as she didn’t live in Van Hoover herself, and only visited from time to time. The waterfall was one of her favorite spots in the city, so she wanted something to remind her of it, and the two ponies she kept coming around to see.

“It’s wonderful,” Anya said, taking the painting in her claws. “Exactly how I picture it when I close my eyes at home.”

“You should have seen him as he was painting it.” Scylla chimed in, looking over the gryphon’s shoulder, “Dad spent a whole day there trying to get everything right. I had to force him to take breaks for food.”

Path rubbed the back of his head in a coy gesture, “Well it was a request from a friend. How could I half-ass it?”

“Don’t you worry,” Anya said, wrapping her arm around the pegasus’ neck and pulling him closer, “I know that you always put your full ass into everything I want from you.”

Pathfinder blushed, as he and the gryphon had been on and off sexual partners in the past, and he was sure she was making reference to some of their bedroom escapades. It was especially embarrassing that she said something like that in front of Scylla, but what he could see in his peripherals, the sly comment had gone over his daughter’s head, as she didn’t show any signs of acknowledging it.

“Well then,” Anya said, releasing Pathfinder as she grabbed the covering for the painting, wrapping it on the canvas tightly so she could carry it around without worry of damaging the image Path had created on it, “I suppose I’ll have to see you two later. Don’t want to keep you if you’re still packing, since you got to get up early and all.”

“Thanks,” Path said, rubbing his neck a little where Anya had held him, reminding him a little of the times she had made him wear a collar during their tries at pet play. “But feel free to stop by when we get back.”

“Will do,” Anya said back, heading back the way she came in.

“Wait a minute, I’ll help you out the door.” Scylla said, following the gryphon as Pathfinder stayed behind to make sure he packed everything.

The two girls made their way back to the front of the story, and Scylla held the door open from the older woman. “I’m gonna miss you while I’m away.” She said as a parting sentiment.

“I’ll miss you too,” Anya replied, “You look after your father, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, but be sure to have some fun.”

“Of course, it’s a vacation after all. If I didn’t have fun then I would be letting down every store counter clerk in Equestria. I’m going to eat expensive food, flirt around with cute boys, and dance the night away.”

“That’s my Scylla.” said Anya, placing a hand on the kelpie’s mane, and ruffling it up before heading off with her painting tucked under her arm. She only looked back once to see Scylla flip the open sign to closed, and lock the door as she stepped back inside. It was going to be rough not seeing two of her favorite ponies for a while, but they deserved some time off. So letting her emotional attachment go, she opened her wings and took to the sky.

Scylla and Pathfinder were certainly treasures to those who knew them. As with all things of value though, there was always going to be somepony out there looking for a moment when they could seize that treasure for themselves.

Long after the sun had gone down, Scylla was still wide awake in her room. She couldn’t help it, as she was just far too excited to sleep. So instead of lying in bed with her eyes wide open, she decided to do something she felt was more productive, and try on a few of the outfits she had gotten for the trip.

Specifically, she was focusing on what swimsuits she was going to wear on the beach. As an aquatic pony breed, she did have a certain fixation to the water, and enthusiasm for swimming. She wasn’t dependent on it like a whale or a dolphin, and could stay out of water for long lengths of time if need be, but the feeling of liquids flowing over her smooth form was exhilarating. After long periods of absence, it could even have an almost orgasmic feel, as her form was surrounded and embraced by large body of water. She expected the warm, tropical waters of Haywaii to be especially thrilling, and thus wanted to make sure she wore the right outfit to maximize the high she would receive when first touching that salty ocean.

Standing in front of her full body closet door mirror, the kelpie struck a few poses in a modest two piece that was made up of several long length of fabric. The top part was practically just that, a strip of cloth cut a few inches in width and a two feet long, twisted halfway to form two cupping sections, and tied tightly in the back. The bottom part was more of a loincloth bikini, with a length of fabric attached to the waistband of the part that covered her privates, adding additional concealment from onlookers. There was another, similar strap, but it had been cut down the center to allot space for a pony’s tail to poke out and move freely.

Scylla placed an arm behind her head, and blew her reflection a kiss in attempt to be flirtatious, but shortly after she slumped down a bit. She just wasn’t feeling it in this outfit. It was a fine bathing suit, and showed off a lot of her curvy features, but something about it was just off. Perhaps it was just that Pathfinder had picked it out for her, but she couldn’t help feel that it was a little too modest.

“But what if…” Scylla said to herself, starting to form some scandalous thoughts in her mind. In a matter of seconds she slid off the outfit she was wearing, and opened her closet door, diving inside so she could dig around. It didn’t take her long to find a small box hidden in the back of it, to which she brought out with much glee. Taking a look to her bedroom door to make sure it was locked, she slowly opened the box to reveal another swim suit, one that she had gotten herself. With a heavily beating heart, she took this two piece made of black latex out of its container, and closed the door to her closet with her hoof so she could watch herself put it on.

The latex outfit, unlike the cloth one, concealed little of her body. Little strands of silk made up the outlining of the top part, interweaved into the latex straps that crissed and crossed with one another to create a netting that hugged Scylla’s breasts, revealing much of the C-cup sized orbs while covering her nipples and areolas, even if their indent was visibly noticeable. The bikini bottom was pure form fitting latex, covering her crotch and ass little more than a thong would, and had several strips coming off the top that wrapped around her waist, slipping above and below her tail, to come back around and clip to the front.

This outfit made Scylla feel incredibly sexy as she looked herself over, taking moments to do some incredibly flirtatious, provocative, and downright lewd poses that started with bending over to show off some cleavage, lead to her presenting her rump to the mirror, and ended with her cupping a tit while slide her fingers into the space between her crotch and its covering. The poses were all mimicked from a few magazines she had stashed away, ones featuring pony models posing for the camera, knowing that the images would end up in the hands of some pervy stallions.

A part of Scylla greatly enjoyed pretending to be like those mares, while another was incredibly embarrassed over the whole thing. As a young, sexually active woman, her sexuality was at its height. As Pathfinders’ daughter though, her modesty always took precedence. To put it another way, her hormones told her it was fine to act as she did in these private times, while in reality she could never actually do stuff like this in public. She was not a slutty girl, though she did have a few boyfriends in the past that she slept with, and what she did as pretend was just that. While she had went out of her way to purchase this swim suit in secret, and took ample opportunities to try it on, she knew it was the outfit her father picked for that she would be wearing on the island.

Having had her fun with her secret, scantily crafted swimwear, Scylla took it off and boxed it up so she could try on what she would be wearing one last time. While it wasn’t as sexy as she liked, it was a cute two piece, and if she was going to wear it she wanted to make it work. She had to be quick though, as it was already well past midnight, and she certainly didn’t want to be asleep on the first day of her vacation.

Wrapping the top part across her waist again, the kelpie moved to get the bottom part back on, but then suddenly heard a tapping. The noise only distracted her at first, assuming that it was the house making normal house noises, but then the tapping made a musical rhythm that could not have possibly been made without somepony making it. Scylla first tilted her head to the door, thinking it was Pathfinder checking in on her, but then redirected it to the window in her room when she figured out where the sound was really coming from.

What she saw sent a spike of terror down Scylla’s spike, and made her blood run cold like river water. At her window, tapping over and over again, was a vicious looking claw. Was a monster trying to get inside, or some sort of wild animal? No, that was a silly thought. There weren’t any pony-eating animals near Vanhoover, or at least none that made up nests. It wasn’t like the town was next to forest or something silly like that. This made the kelpie’s curiosity grow, so slowly she approached the glass barrier.

Whatever it was though sensed her approach, and before she got close enough it moved away. Scylla wasn’t about to let it get away unseen though, and as quickly as she could, she unlocked her window. Throwing it open, she stuck her head out, looking all about to see where the claw, and the owner of it, ran off. It was hard to see in the dark, with her eyes still acclimated to the brighter setting of her room, and only the moon and stars in the sky providing light outside. However, she did manage to catch a figure slip around the house. The figure, while shadowed, definitely had wings, and a profile that was not of a pony. If she wasn’t mistaken, it looked kinda like a gryphon.

Anya? That was Scylla’s first thought, as no gryphons actually lived in Vanhoover. Did she forget something when she left? She did know where the bedrooms were on the house, and perhaps she was trying to get someone’s attention before they both left. She knew that they would be leaving in the morning, so maybe she just wanted to make sure she didn’t miss them. That was the immediate idea Scylla came up with, and if it were true then it would be best if she went out to see what Anya wanted.

Scylla rushed to her door without hesitation and proceeded through the living area, not pausing for a second as she made her way to the store section of the building. Her curiosity and belief in the safety of the city she lived in was phasing out any danger she could have felt in this situation, and before she knew it, the Kelpie had her hand on the front door’s knob, twisting open the deadbolt while turning the handle so she could exit her abode. Before she could pull the door open though, a hand fell down on top of her own.

“What are you doing?” asked Pathfinder from behind her, having spotted Scylla heading to the front door in when he was heading back to his own room after a midnight bathroom break.

The kelpie jumped a little, not expecting anyone else in the house to be away at this hour. “I… I... “ she stammered, trying to recover from the fright, “There was a gryphon outside-”

“A gryphon?” Path questioned.

“At least I think it was a gryphon. I didn’t get a good look, but It was tapping on my window, and I thought that it might’ve been Anya trying to get in, and…”

Path grew a bit concerned over hearing that some possibly random gryphon was tapping on his daughter’s window. He was not nearly as naive as she was about the dangers of the world, and knew better than to just assume that this was Anya making a house call in the middle of the night. That begged the question, what was some random gryphon, or whatever it was, going around and knocking on the windows of his home?

As safe as Vanhoover was, that didn’t account for every creep or delinquent who decided to wonder in, and Path wasn’t about to just let this slide. “Scylla, you stay in here and lock the door.” said the pegasus, tightening the belt of his house robe. “I’ll see who’s roaming around out there and take care of this.”

Scylla pouted, thinking that her curiosity had caused trouble for her father, but gave him a nod in reply.

“Good girl,” Path said, grabbing a lantern from a nearby wall hook, and giving the kelpie a quick pat on the head. “I’ll be right back, don’t you worry.” With that said, the pegasus stepped outside, and Scylla did as he told her and locked the door behind him before going to the living room to wait for his return.

The second Pathfinder got outside, he felt a cold chill hit his body. He hadn’t expected the night air to have this much of a chill, and was in a hurry to see who this intruder was, so he had left without putting on any warmer clothing. That wouldn’t have been too bad, except that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath his robe.

“Damned hooligans.” he said with a chattering of his teeth as he lit his lantern with a match he pulled from a compartment on the object, blaming whoever was prowling around his property for his small lapse in better judgement.

Once lit, he was on the hunt, ready to shoo off the trespasser. First he made a pass around the house itself, and found that Scylla had left her window opened in her rush to get outside. He closed it for her, and passed on to complete his circuit around the building. He didn’t find anypony, but he did find a few freshly made tracks around. Whoever it was sneaking about was clearly not an experienced prowler, and could have just been someone trying to get a glimpse at the kelpie who lived inside. It wasn’t like Pathfinder hadn’t had to deal with this issue in the past, seeing how curious ponies got when it came to a breed as rarely seen as her, so he could see that being the case, and that they already ran off when they were caught in the act.

It was better to be thorough though, thus he made his way around the house again, this time going away from it a few feet to make a wider circle. Being beach side, his home was a little isolated, and thus there was an ample amount of hiding places among the surrounding foliage. If there was anyone still around, Path would find them, and if there wasn’t, then he would lock up the house tightly in case they came back.

That is what he thought to himself as he took efforts to look around, but eventually he became tired of searching. It was cold, late, and he had to get up early to catch a flight. Frankly, he didn’t need this shit right now, and he decided to head back inside. Just as he turned around though, he heard a noise behind him. Giggling, he believed, from a vaguely female source. Almost simultaneously, this put him both on guard and at ease. He had found the intruder, but it was a girl. That made things a little less threatening in his mind, as even most gryphon females were not so much aggressive, as much as uncaring and rude, Path mentally excluding Anya from that stereotype as he had known her for a long time.

“Okay,” he said aloud, “I’ve think I’ve had enough of your games.” Path took a single step in the direction from which he had heard the sound, slamming his hoof down heavily as he did. The sudden hostile movement caused a bush close by to start shaking, and with that he knew the exact location of who he sought. He went to the bush as quickly as his hooves would take him, and thrust his free hand inside, grasping at whatever he could inside the overgrown vegetation. “I’ve got you now,” the pegasus announced proudly, having no doubt that he would either drag the intruder out, or cause them to run in fear, but after a few seconds of searching something happened that instead filled his heart with dread.

“Click”

The sound came to his ears the same time he felt a metal band wrap around his wrist. He only had enough time to feel his heart sink a little before a force from beyond the shrubbery pulled on his arm, dragging him in with surprising force. The bush scratched at his skin, poking small twigs through his fur as he was wretched inside, and when he came to an abrupt stop, he found himself meeting face to face with a pair of fierce, yellow eyes surrounded by patches of greyish purple.

“Looks like I caught myself a dweeb,” said the female gryphon, extending her wings widely.

“Oh no, wait a minute!” Pathfinder protested, trying to extend his own wings in response, but finding them snagged in the bush he was now trapped in.

The gryphoness gave a powerful beat of her wings, and as Path had expected, this propelled her backwards into the sky. The thing was, she was not going alone, as in her claw she was gripping tightly to the other end of the shackle she had placed on him, so where she went, he was forced to follow. The bush scraped him up badly as he went through it and into the air, only traveling a few feet from the ground, but his departure from the ground was short lived as the gryphon zipped back to the earth, catching the chain linking them together under her foot, and using it the slam him face-down into the dirt.

Pathfinder’s mind raced with three thoughts, the first being who this girl was, the second wondering what she wanted, and the third telling him that he had to ignore the first two quandaries and get out of there. That was going to be hard though with her holding onto that chain, and it didn’t look like she was going to give him a chance to come up with a plan of action before she continued with her own.

Stepping off the chain, the gryphon dragged Path across the ground, to which Path did his best to crawl along to prevent any more damage to his person. While doing so, the pegasus noticed that she was heading over to a tall, but slim tree, and assumed that she intended to use it to entrap his arms by binding around the tree’s base. If that she did that, he would be at the gryphon’s mercy, and he couldn’t allow that to happen. With what little energy he had left in him after that beating, he picked himself up and rammed into the gryphon’s back, hoping the impact would make her release.

He struck with his shoulder just above her rump, catching the feline fowl by surprise, and to Pathfinder’s relief, the girl opened her claw in order to catch herself before hitting the ground. While she was falling down with a shocked yelp, he was going upward with a victorious cry, flying upwards so he could fly to safety. He figured that if he got above the trees, then he’d be able to make it back to his house no problem, and there was no way the gryphon would recover before he did that. A few flaps of his wings is all that it would take, and so he let the adrenaline surge through his body fuel their movements.

Before he could make it to the goal though, a pair of shadows swooped down from the trees Path was trying to get above, and before Path knew it, two more gryphons appeared, both grabbing hold of either of his wings. The force of the flight and the weight of their bodies forced the feathered pony to fall back to the ground, hitting it harder than before to knock the wind right out of Path’s lungs. This was more than just some random intruder causing trouble for kicks. This was a planned out attack, but for what reason, Pathfinder couldn’t even begin to guess.

The two new gryphons, both female like the first, pinned Path down by his wings, painfully sitting on their bones to make sure he didn’t try to take off again. In that position, they then leaned forward to place their claws down on Path’s arms, creating a pseudo-symmetrical image of relaxation as they used the pegasus as a seat and ensured the pony would not be getting up from under their bodies.

As Path, still catching his breath after his plummet, tried to recover, the first gryphon girl got back to her feet. “You stupid pony,” she said, making her feeling towards Path’s escape attempt clear. “All you had to do was come along quietly.” she said, going up to the caught pegasus to tower over his head.

For the first time, Pathfinder got a good look at his first attacker. She was, admittedly, an attractive gryphon. Not in a womanly way, like Anya, but in a more youthful manner. There was a air of ‘danger’ about her, as if her very presence exuded hostility. Maybe it was her leather jeans that gave this illusion, or the brown leather jacket that she had partially zipped down to show off her feathered chest, exposing an ample area that would be considered cleavage on a pony. Perhaps it was the way she wore her head feathers, allowing them drape over her forehead like bangs, or maybe it was just the fact that she just kicked Pathfinder’s ass without any provocation. Whatever it was, she let it be known that she one girl whose cross-hairs your didn’t want to be caught in.

She further pressed this point by lifting a leg and stepping one of her pawed feet down on Path’s face, grinding her heel into his muzzle. “Now I’m gonna have to rough you up a little to show ya who’s in charge.”

“Don’t hurt him too much Gilda,” said one of the girls on Pathfinder’s back, “You know our boss will want a pretty boy like this to be brought home unbruised.”

“Not that a little punishment isn’t in order…” said the other, twirling one of her fingers around in Path’s mane until a single strand was lassoed around it, to which she gave a hard tug, pulling it right out from his scalp.

The first gryphon, obviously named Gilda, considered what her collages were saying, and removed her foot. “Breezie, Winda, bring him over to the tree. We’re going to get a better look at the catch of the day.”

The two other gryphons, of whom Path could see when being picked up were a pair of twins, did as Gilda told them, taking the pegasus over to the tree and, as Pathfinder expected, binding his arms so he was hugging the tree. In this position, tired and battered as he was, he was helpless to the small pack of predatory femme fatales.

“So, what are you gonna do to me?” Path asked, “I don’t have anything worth robbing, and I’m not worth any kind of ransom money.”

“Ransom? You sure have a wild imagination,” stated one of the twins, the one he assumed was Breezie.

“Well he’s not too far off though,” said Winda in a correcting manner.

“Quiet, both of you,” scolded Gilda, “This femcolt bitch doesn’t need to know anything until we bag him up.”

“Hey!” Path shouted, taking offense to being called a femcolt. His attractive, ‘pretty’ features were something of a sensitive topic for him, as more than once it had caused a few troubles with stallions who had assumed incorrectly that he was a mare.

“You be quiet too,” Gilda said, turning her attention back to the pony. At first Path took to staring her down in response, but as Gilda glared back to him, she suddenly made a grab with her claws. Heading downwards, he was confused where she was heading, but then he felt her grip his stallionhood. In all the adrenaline pumping excitement, his cock had formed into an erection without his knowledge, and was currently poking out from his now disheveled house robe. “I’d hate to have to do something to this that you’ll regret later.”

Pathfinder froze, as almost any stallion would when razor sharp claws were wrapped around their most precious and sensitive appendage. The gryphon had him, almost literally, by the balls, and the pegasus had no doubt that she would deliver on her threat if he ticked her off.

“Here is all you need to know for now.” Gilda continued, squeezing down tightly on the meat rod in her grip. “Somepony has taken an interest in you and your pet fish. We were hired to take you both to her, and you don’t have any say on whether you’re going or not.”

Pathfinder clenched one of his eyes in pain, feeling the blood being squeezed out of his stiff shaft. “P-pet fish?” he questioned, not getting the gryphon’s meaning in the heat of the moment. At least not immediately, but after a few seconds it clicked. “No, whatever this has to do with me, you leave Scylla out of-”

Pathfinder was cut off as he felt a sharp pain go into his neck. No more than a pin prick, the pegasus understood that he had been injected with something. Slowly but surely, his vision began to blur, and he started to find it very hard to keep his eyes open. One of the twins had drugged him while he was distracted, and there was no avoiding whatever would happen to him next. He could only pray that Scylla would not end up the same way, and would be able to get some help.

Back at Pathfinder’s store, Scylla sat patiently on the living room couch for her father’s return. She was completely oblivious to what had happened to him outside, having only heard the muffled sounds of him yelling through the walls, and assumed it was just him telling off whoever it was he had found. All she really figured out at this point was that the gryphon she saw couldn’t have been Anya.

Because of this, she was blissfully unaware of what was happening to what was happening to Pathfinder, but now was worried that some stranger was tapping on her bedroom window. It was unnerving, to say the least, and had her more than a little creeped out. It made her think unsettling thoughts like “How long had they been there watching her?” and “What if they had tried something when she poked her head out the window?”.

“Wait a minute…” Scylla said to herself quietly, thinking about her exact actions when she had went to open the door. In her hurry, she had left her window opened, and thus left the house insecure.

With it like that, locking the front door was practically pointless. She would have to rectify that immediately. Scylla picked herself up from the couch to go back to her room, going at a leisurely pace as she was still not too concerned at this point. When she opened the door though, she discovered just how wrong she was to feel as safe as she did.

“Ow!” She heard when opening the door, the sound accompanied by the feeling of resistance as the door only opened a little bit. Scylla herself froze on the spot at the realization that there was not only someone in the house, but in her very room. Unbeknownst to her, Pathfinder had closed her window, but he couldn’t lock it from the outside, so someone was still able to push it back open and climb inside.

Next thing Scylla knew, a claw grabbed the door and pulled it open the rest of the way, revealing that not one, but two gryphon males had made their way inside. The closest one held the door, as well as his bruised beak, while the other one was holding back a snicker caused by his partner’s pain.

“Damn bitch,” said the one closest as he rubbed his mouth.

“Don’t be that way Talon,” said the other, still chuckling under his breath. “She didn’t do it on purpose. Did you sweetie?”

Scylla didn’t know what to say or do in this situation. The kelpie had never encountered someone so brazen as to break into another pony’s home before. She didn’t run though, as she knew that if she did she could be easily caught if these two wanted to catch her. Besides, there was something menacing in the way the second gryphon spoke to her that made Scylla feel numb.

“Y-you two had better leave...” She spoke out in a near whisper, looking to the floor as she held onto one of her arms, “My father will be back any minute and-”

“Don’t you worry about him,” the one named Talon said. “A few of our friends have got him.”

“Got him?” Scyla squeaked out, her concern rapidly rising.

“What he means to say is that your father has been caught and restrained so that we can have some alone time with you uninterrupted.” the second gryphon clarified.

“Please, don’t hurt him!” Scylla immediately pleaded, not wishing any harm to come to Pathfinder.

“Don’t be afraid,” The second gryphon said, coming up to the kelpie and gently placing his claw under her chin, forcing her eyes upward to meet his. “We are forbidden to hurt our targets unless they resist, but you’re not going to do that, are you?”

Scylla tried to aim her eyes back to the ground, but when she did the gryphon just tilted her head up more to compensate. He wanted an answer, and he wanted Scylla to look at him as she said it. “N-no, I won’t resist… So please don’t hurt us.”

“Good,” The gryphon replied, then tilting his head back to Talon, “Start getting things set up for delivery.”

Talon grumbled, but reached into a pouch on his belt to pull out a rather sizeable net, and proceeded to spread it out across the floor.

“A-are… are you kidnapping me?” Scylla asked, not so naive to not understand what was happening.

“Very observant,” said the nameless gryphon, reaching into his own side pouch to withdraw a set of shackles. “Yes, we are kidnapping you, as well as your father.”

“But why?” Scylla asked, watching the gryphon go behind her, and then feeling him bind her arms behind her back.

“Tell you what,” said the gryphon, “You’re being such a good girl that I’ll tell you.”

“Griff…” Talon said, questioning his partner’s judgement.

“It’s fine, she’s not going anywhere.” Griff reassured as he placed a second pair of shackles on Scylla’s ankles, “You see we work for a special group of ponies who like to abduct and enslave others of their kind. ‘The Equestria Trainers’ Society” they like to call themselves.”

“Equestria… Trainers’ Society?” Scylla questioned, of course having no clue about this organization.

“Yes,” Griff said, slipping a talon into the back of both pieces of Scylla’s bikini, and with a single motion, cut through them both to cause them to fall right off his captive’s body.

Scylla, sensing that she had been disrobed, let out an “EEEEEEE!” in dismay, and curled up a little while standing in attempt to cover her nudity.

Griff laughed at her response, and picked up the pieces of her swimsuit, “You see, Scylla, somepony has taken an interest in both you and your father, and thus you are both now officially property of The Society. Me and my friends are going to crate the two of you up, and ship you off to a secret location where you’ll be trained as slaves.”

“Slaves?!” Scylla yelled out, only to have the bottom part of her bikini shoved into her muzzle and tide around her head with the parts Griff had cut apart before.

“Yes, slaves.” Griff confirmed, placing the bikini top around her eyes to use as a blindfold, “Probably sex slaves, but that’s up to them once you get there.”

Now bound, gagged, and blindfolded, Scylla had lost all semblance of of control she might have had.She couldn’t try calling for help, running away, or watching for an opportune moment to do such things to arise. She was only left to helplessly tremble as these gryphons did what they would, which from the sounds of it would lead to Scylla and her father being sent to a labor camp. Even worse was the possibility that her abductors might rape her, which was the last thing that she wanted.

As all these terrible thoughts raced through her mind, Griff placed a hand on her shoulder, directing the kelpie in the center of the net. His employer had been very specific with the method of capture for Scylla. She was to be caught in a net, to go with a theme relating to her aquatic species. Griff personally thought it was silly, but he couldn’t complain about the money.

“On your knees.” he said, to which Scylla abided, dropping down so she sat on her lower legs. “Good girl, now you’re going to feel a small prick, and then you are gonna go to sleep.”

Looking over to Talon, the other gryphon was preparing a syringe, removing its protective cap and pressing the plunger down to ensure no air would be injected into their target’s veins. Once sure it was safe, he went to the kelpie and stuck the needle into her jugular, giving her a full dose of tranquilizers inside.

Scylla instantly felt herself go woozy, and even in the darkness created by her blindfold, she could tell she was becoming unbalanced. The last thing she heard before passing out was Griff saying to her. “Everything is going to be fine. Don’t think of this as enslavement. Just think of it as a vacation.”

Author's Notes:

Hello there loyal readers, Schorl here again. Nice to see you all here again, at the start of a new story. Another... new story. As the more observant of you might have noticed, I have been starting up quite a few new stories as of late, which is odd since I have two unfinished stories that have been sitting in wait at the moment. Well... I do have a bit of an explanation for that, which will be the topic of today's notes.

Let's begin with the first story I left on hiatus, "EqTS: Recruitment". It is a story that I had gotten deep in, and was meant to show the recruitment process of the Society through the eyes of a unicorn name "Blank Slate". I had made quite a bit of progress through the story, but at one point I felt kinda stuck. I don't know why exactly, but perhaps it was because I had been overworking myself.

Which then leads to my second postponed story "FoE: Weak and Powerless". A story of Trixie having to re-acclimate herself in a world recovering from a group of ravaging barbarians. I really like the idea of writing about a PTSD Trixie, and have a pretty good (in my opinion) plotline planned for it, but then my "anniversary" for a certain important event happened, and I went straight into writing out "FoE: Meet Thy Maker" from start to finish.

After that I made a chapter for a story called "FoE: Legacy of Dainn" to tell the story of what came from the events of Meet Thy Maker, and introduce a new character that is dear to my heart.

And now we have this story, one featuring an OC of one of my online friends, and current cover art illustrator. But why? Well to be blunt, a while back I promised Scylla a cameo in EqTS, as I often do for many bronies with their OCs. Well then I started doing the other stories listed above, and putting it off and putting it off until my guilt for delaying got the better of me. So I started talking with Scylla, and eventually I came to the idea that instead of having her just be a cameo, that it might be a nice idea to create an actual story around her.

I came up with a interesting and useful way to depict her time in the Society, with Scylla's help, and now we are not only planning a story featuring prominently, but have also set up a series of images to be made and released along side the chapters as they are released.

Fans of the other stories, do not worry though. While I will be focusing on this story for a while, I WILL get back to them, in time. I just want to focus on something that I think will get me back into the swing of writing a Society story (as I have focused too long on FoE), and believed it has been too long since I have done an EqTS story anyways. Like I said though, I do intend to finish all my currently open projects, at the very least, and unless something terrible happens to me, I promise not to disappoint anyone interested in them.

Just please bear with me, and forgive my scatter brained methods of story writing

Delivery

Scylla found herself riding a wave of tranquilizers, phasing in and out of awareness, or what little she could have had in her predicament. She was bound up, trapped in a net, drugged, blindfolded, gagged, and held within some cramped space. Her senses were thus muted, but she could taste the flavor of her own bikini bottom, smell the fragrance of sweat and flesh, and feel the padding inside of the crate she and her father had been stuffed in. At least she assumed it was Pathfinder, seeing as the gryphons told her they had captured him too, and that the moans of her new, hopefully temporary, roommate sounded identifiably male. Aside from that, all she could feel was a powerful sense of vertigo, which her drug addled mind could only figure was a byproduct of said drugs.

The kelpie, distraught. Sobbed softly into her gag. What are they going to do with us? She thought to herself, her freshly forming tears being absorbed into the cloth around her eyes.

The gryphons said that they would be made slaves, but why? Was it just because they wanted to have sex with her? If that were the case, she would have done so, if reluctantly, back at their home if it would have spared her and Pathfinder this. If she could have even negotiated her father’s release at the cost of her body, she would have done so, but then again the two males that invaded their home didn’t seem like the type to make deals. For a while, these thoughts were the only things Scylla could focus on as she slipped in and out of being awake, the thought process becoming a cycle as she forgot what she had been thinking about, or got distracted by the distinct sense of vertigo she was feeling.

Her crate mate, of whom she had guessed correctly was Pathfinder, was in a similar state of mind, with the drugs in his system making it hard for him to do anything but struggle to open his eyelids. When he found the strength to do so though, his eyes were always met by Scylla. There was hardly any light in the box they had both been stuffed into, but he could tell it was her from her sounds and feel of her aquatic pony skin through the netting that held her.

Unlike his daughter, Path had no information about why they had been taken from their home, so instead of dwelling about what he could have done differently to avert this, he was using his conscious moments to ponder why this had happened and how he could get both out of it now that they had been caught. Problem was the harder he tried to think, the more he drifted back to sleep, which made his plans for escape fairly fruitless.

Unfortunately, this lasted for some time, and all they could really do was await what was coming for them. Eventually the sense of vertigo left them, with Path realizing that the box they were in had been transported via air travel, and they were now feeling ground underneath as their container was placed on a cart and wheeled to its final destination.

“Is this the Vanhoover delivery?” Path heard, muffled and quiet through the wood and cloth padding that held him and Scylla, it being nearly drowned out behind an onsetting sea of white noise. It was a woman’s voice, but he could hardly tell any more than that for the time being.

“Yeah,” said another, gruffer female voice, “It’s the fish mare and her femcolt father.”

Though still muffled, Path recognized this one as the gryphon girl who beat him up before. Gilly, he believed her name was in his drug induced state. So that bitch escorted us personally, Path thought, realizing how her being here would be an issue if he tried to make an escape with Scylla, though in the condition he was in a foal wouldn’t have much issue preventing such an attempt.

“Good,” the first female replied, “Lady Tourmaline has been anticipating the arrival of the kelpie.”

“But not the femcolt?” The gryphon asked, a bit of attitude forming in her voice.

“No,” answered the first female, “He is just going to become general slave stock.”

“Then why did we have to grab him too?” the gryphon questioned in an irritated tone. “I got tackled in the back just so your mistress could have another sissy slave boy in her little pony prison.”

“You appear to be quite mistaken Miss Gilda,” said a new, also feminine voice. Unlike the gryphon’s which was full of attitude, and the first woman’s which was soft and pleasant, this new voice was authoritarian, with a hint of sophistication behind it. “We didn’t request his capture to simply add another body to our kennels. It was to prevent anypony who would notice the kelpie was missing from roaming about freely. Also, this is not a prison, it’s a training facility for wayward submissives. And lastly, Mi Jin is not my slave. Her master is just loaning her to me for a while as she recovers from-”

“Lady Tourmaline,” the first woman cut in, “Excuse my interruption, but if we don’t begin processing soon, the tranquilizers used on the two in the box might run its course, and you know how much of a problem new inductees can get when fully awake.”

“I suppose you are right,” the third voice agreed, “Better to use up their time of docility wisely. Miss Gilda, would you please unlock the box?”

Pathfinder heard a huff, and then a rattling of keys. Finally Path and Scylla were going to be let out, though they weren’t going to have a chance to fight back. Even after all the time it took to get from their home to wherever they were now, Path felt that he could hardly stand, let alone fend off a flock of gryphons. He had to at least try though, as what kind of stallion would he be if he just allowed them to have their way. With the sound of locks being removed from the box, he prepared himself for action. Even if he could only bite down on their hands as they tried to pull him and Scylla out, he was determined to make a mark.

The top opened, light seeping through the cracks in the lid, forcing Path to momentarily shut his eyes. When he reopened them, the light had once more been blocked, which made the pegasus think that his kidnappers had for some reason closed the box again. Then he noticed that the ‘lid’ was moving downwards, and was in the shape of a rather large hand.

“Oh crap!” he yelled out, finding a sudden burst of energy had filled his body when the hand wrapped around his neck and pulled him out of the container with the greatest of ease. In seconds, he found himself suspended over the box, flapping his wings as rapidly as the drugs in his system would allow as a sizable bull held him up by one, incredibly muscular arm.

A fucking minotaur?! Path thought, having to hold his breath in the grip of the monstrous creature. It was bad enough that he had to deal with those agile and predatory gryphons, but an overbearingly powerful minotaur was near impossible for the average pony to overcome physically.

He wasn’t the only one either, as now that he was out of the box, Pathfinder could see exactly what awaited him outside it, and what nightmare he had awakened into. The room itself couldn’t have been any more the depiction of a stereotypical dungeon. The walls were made up of stone block, and was lit by little more than torchlight from wall mounted holders. Along the walls, ceiling, and floor were a variety of holding devices, ranging from simple chained bonds affixed in the outlining stone with metal plates held in spot by large bolts, to holding areas that looked much like prison cells.

He didn’t have to imagine what it would be like if a pony was place inside them, as many of these restraints and holding chambers were already occupied, with ponies of all types caught within them. The white noise he had heard before was the sounds of their sorrow, desperate pleas, and lashes of anger. None of which was given any heed by the unrestrained personnel in the room, of which consisted of an odd assembly of creatures.

First were the minotaur, of which there was at least a dozen. They walked around this rather large holding area completely unabated, apparently acting as guards and wardens. A few took their duty a bit further, tapping at the cell bars with club sized nightsticks, using them to antagonize the helpless and silence the ones begging for release. One even went a step beyond that, and grabbed one of the more hostile mares by the arm when she worked up the nerve to try and attack.

The mare, an earth pony, found herself pulled forward until her body pressed up against the bars, her breasts poking through them as a single bar separated them. The mare tried to fight this with her other arm, but the minotaur managed to trap that one in his grip as well, joining her wrists together in his palm. Trapped as she was, the minotaur took to teaching her a lesson, and with his own guard baton, proceeded to land a series of blows against her vulnerable tits. The mare tried to resist, to pull away and block the strikes with her arms, but the minotaur held her appendages downward, and didn’t allow her to take so much as a step backwards without getting pressed back into the bars, Seeing this unfold, something told Path that most ponies brought to this horrid place didn’t try to fight back for too long.

Becoming disturbed by this prolonged act of sadism, the pegasus stallion redirected his eyes to the other group of creatures in the room, the gryphons. Where there was a dozen minotaur, there were only about eight of the feline fowls in the room, and they were likewise busy. They were going about removing some other ponies from other boxes like the one Path had been pulled from, taking the time to strip them of any clothing they might have had on before chaining them to the wall or placing them in an empty cell. Apparently Pathfinder and Scylla wasn’t the only new arrivals to this terrible place, which worried the pegasus about just how big this operation was.

Aside from these two groups of intimidating species, there were only two others in the room who weren’t bound or imprisoned. Two female ponies, or at least Path believed they were ponies. At least one of the two was identifiable equine, a dark purple crystal pony with long, blue hair flowing down her back, stopping where the top half of her two piece suit did on her body, just above the tail that was sticking out from the back part of her skirt. No, not just a crystal pony, a crystal unicorn. The horn atop her head stood out like a sore thumb, but as he was being choked, he had little desire to contemplate how odd it was to see such a rare, unheard of pony breed standing in aside him.

The other creature though… she was a little harder to determine whether she was truly a pony or not. It had many features that seemed equine, like her horse-like hooves, and the general shape of her body and head, but there were several things off about her. The first thing Pathfinder’s eyes were drawn to was her skin, or what portions he could see that wasn’t covered by her clothing, a secretary style suit similar to the crystal mare, but with the front pulled open to give an open view to her fully exposed bosom, with a pair of half framed glasses on her snout and a clipboard in hand to complete the appearance. The skin was not covered in fur like most other pony species, nor was its bare skin like Scylla’s. It instead appeared to be covered in a bunch of large bronze colored scales, smooth ones that overlayed over one another much like a snake’s.

Continuing the snake analogy, the creature’s neck seemed a bit longer and slenderer than an average pony. Almost like a pony and Llama mated, and created something in between the two lengths. Not that Path saw much of it though, as she wore around her extra long throat a piece of neck gear that covered it in its entirety. Because of his own exploits into the more kinky aspects of sexuality, Path was able to identify this as a posture collar, and it was only by its shape that he could grasp an idea of what her concealed neck looked like.

Then there was her mane and tail. They were both of a snowy white, which in of itself was not odd. Ponies did have a wide variance in hair colors after all. The style of it was peculiar though. The hair on her head was short, and flowed downwards until it arced off in different directions, becoming somewhat jagged in shape. Her tail, while long, was of a similar pattern, and it made the mare look like she had been stuff with a lightning bolt, and all the energy had went from her head to her hooves, grounding itself in the earth as the plasmic energy exited her form.

This analysis of his surroundings took little over half a minute to make in his panicked state, and before he could be in danger of asphyxiation from the minotaur’s grip, the crystal mare said, “That’s enough Sartek. You can set him on the floor.”

With a snort from his snout, the minotaur compiled, lowering Path to the ground and loosening his grip only to let the pegasus breath, which the stallion did liberally when given the opportunity. Before long though, he gave the obligatory questions all abductees had to eventually ask their kidnappers.

“Who are you?!” He demanded to know, adding to it another inquiry of “What do you want with us?!”

The unicorn lifted her hand to the front of her muzzle and gave a few short laughs into it. “They are always so cute when they act tough in the face of their superiors. Don’t you worry though, we will train that mean streak out of you soon enough.”

Path glared at the crystal unicorn angrily. She was treating his questions like they didn’t matter, ignoring them while mocking his actions. He did however understand why she acted that way, seeing all the other prisoners there were present. This wasn’t her first rodeo, and there was little Pathfinder could do even if the same were true about him. Those that were kidnapped were rarely at an advantage over the kidnapper.

“Please...” he said, accepting the position he was in at the moment; naked, drugged, and within the grip of a creature nearly three times his body mass, “Tell me what is going on here. Why did you kidnap me and Scylla?”

“Hmm...” the crystal mare hummed, lower her hand and revealing a wicked smirk behind it. “Seems you’re a quicker learner than most.” she said as she began circling around the pegasus.

Pathfinder tried his best to keep his eyes on her while he could, and responded with, “I can see that at the moment I have no way of getting out of this. I’m in an unknown area, completely surrounded, and overpowered.”

“Smart, cute, and aware of his position in life,” the mare said, placing a hand on his side from behind, “I like. Sartek, please release this stallion. I would like to talk to him without the hostilities.”

The minotaur did as the unicorn requested, and removed his hand, only so the mare could replace it with her own, much daintier hand.

“Let me make you a quick deal Mr… um…”

“It’s Pathfinder, Lady Tourmaline.” said the reptilian mare near them, having found the stallion’s name in the papers on her clipboard.

“Pathfinder, of course.” the crystal mare continued, “If you allow me to touch your body, and do so in silence, then I will tell you all you need to know about your current situation. The moment I hear you make a noise though, you will be sent off to be processed. Is that understood?”

Path was about to answer her, but then caught himself in the trap the mare was presenting. Anypony would probably do one of two things right now. The first was tell her off if they didn’t care what she had to say, which would have them carted off immediately. The second, if they did wish to get some sort of information of what was happening to them, would be to say something like ‘Yes’ or ‘Fine’. Very few would realize that a mare like this had already started her little game, and that any verbal response was failure. So with this in mind, Path gave a nod, telling the mare behind him that he truly understood what she wanted from him.

“Well then,” the mare started, moving the hand at Path’s side up and down, while resting the one partially around his neck on his shoulder, “I suppose I’ll begin this bout of exposition by answering the ‘Who are you’ question. I am Schorl Tourmaline, though most call me Lady Tourmaline. I am a... collector, I suppose you could say, of both rare and submissive creatures. I am also an advocate for the ideals of natural supremacy.”

With that said, Schorl took her body and pressed it against the pegasus’ back. She must have been enjoying herself, as he could feel her heart heavily beating through her suit jacket.

“‘Natural supremacy? What’s that?’, you might ask yourself,” she went on to say as she moved her groping hand to his chest, feeling around liberally as if she were mapping out his body with only the sense of touch, “To put it simply, it is the idea that there are two types of ponies in the world. Those destined to rule, and those destined to serve. The strong, the highly intelligent, the willful… the wealthy; they make up the former of these two groups, and are destined to be the rulers of this world as much as your cutie mark makes you destined to be… whatever it is your occupation was before arriving here. Then there are those like you, who are to put it nicely, are lacking in all these fields. There is nothing inherently wrong with that though, nor is it meant to be insulting. It’s just the rules of…” Schorl said, the tone of her voice turning from ‘explanatory’ to ‘sultry’ as her hand slowly ran down the fur of his chest and belly, “Nature.”

On the utterance of that final word, Schorl jetted her hand downwards and grabbed ahold of the sack positioned between Path’s legs. The pegasus felt her grip and caress the holder of his testicles, playing with them with one hand, being enthusiastic about the act, but careful enough not to hurt him as she did. The attention to such a sensitive part of his body made Pathfinder pant audibly, but the noise in the room from the other captives were preventing the crystal pony from hearing this, else she was letting it slide to allow this game to continue a bit longer.

While she showed no signs of detecting the sounds Path was making, she showed much delight in his movements. No longer could he just hold still as she had her way, as his body squirmed and his dick began to grow out of it’s sheath against his will. Not all were amused by this though, as one of Schorl’s entourage was becoming increasingly annoyed by all this.

“Can I get paid for this loser already?” asked Gilda, glaring at both the ponies in front of her with her arms crossed.

“My dear Gilda,” Schorl say to the gryphon, not ceasing her fondlings for a moment, “Is something the matter? I would think someone as fierce and ruthless as yourself could handle watching a cutie like this getting molested without getting flustered.”

Gilda’s feathers ruffled a little at that, but settled down quickly as she turned her head and closed her eyes, “That’s not it.” she refuted, “This is just a waste of my time, and I’m not getting paid to watch you play with a guy’s dick.”

The gryphon’s words made Schorl’s ears perk up even higher than they already were. “Very well then. Mi Jin, I want you to mark down on the ledger that Gilda will get double the agreed upon payment.”

This cause Gilda’s eyes to pop back open, “Double?!”

“If she is patient and watches me molest this stallion till I’m satisfied.”

The promise of her payment multiplying pulled in Gilda’s attention, and she locked her eyes on the two ponies, watching them like a hawk, or perhaps an eagle in her case.

“Good, now where was I?” Schorl asked aloud, pleased that the gryphon was as predictable as the rest of her greedy race, “Oh yes…” she continued on, grabbing the Pathfinder’s cock, “The other thing you specifically asked, ‘What do we want with you?’. Well by now I think it should be fairly obvious, but we want to make you a slave. The inferior must submit to their greaters, and what better way to do that than to bonded to one in servitude.”

The blunt declaration of the crystal unicorn’s intentions was shocking for Path, but so too was her gentle strokings of his shaft as she said it. She was really getting off to the idea of enslaving him against his will, and the feelings of discomfort she was making him have during all this. Anya had warned him in their own experiments into BDSM of people like this. She called them ‘predatory doms’, describing them as those who had very aggressive and dominant personalities, and enjoyed preying upon those too weak to resist their urges and desires. When he had heard of them though, Pathfinder just assumed they were the type to tie down their partners while they were asleep and tickle the frogs of their hooves until they came themselves. Little did he expect something to this degree.

“And that is why we brought you here, to the ‘Equestria Trainers’ Society’.” Schorl announced with pride, doubling the pace of her strokes. “This is my own personal training facility/slave taming business where we take submissive ponies like yourself, who don’t yet comprehend that their purpose in life is at the end of somepony else’s leash. Here you will be trained to submit, serve, and optimize your abilities to be the best slave pegasus you can be for your new master or mistress...” Schorl brought her muzzle close to Pathfinder’s ear, and finished her statement with “Whether you like it or not” to press the point that the pegasus’ feelings on the matter were inconsequential.

If this mare was to have her way, he was going to be tamed, brainwashed, and trained into a sex slave for some random mare who would then rule over his life. Wait though, he thought, Did she say ‘master’!? Knowing that she did, Path felt an ill sensation crawl up his spine. With that, and the gryphon’s tendency of calling him a ‘femcolt’, Path was getting increasingly worried about what his kidnappers had planned for him. Despite his girlish appearance, which caused ponies to sometimes confuse him as a mare, Pathfinder had no interest in other males sexually. Some stallions had made offers to date him, or went so far as to ask if he would sleep with them, but he was straight and never so much as humored the idea that he could be gay. If he were forced into having sex with another male, that would be his number one nightmare come to life.

Or number two, as he was quickly reminded that there was one other thing that he hated more than the idea of taking it in the rear from another stallion when one of the other minotaur in the room came over and reached into the box that still contained Scylla inside. When the bull pulled his arm back out, he brought with it the kelpie, still caught in the net she had been wrapped up inside.

“OH!” Schorl practically squealed at the sight of her, releasing Pathfinder from her grip to rush over to Scylla’s side. “Is this the little fish mare I’ve heard so much about? She does look like a cutie in her little net, and is that... Why yes it is. She has little gills on her cheeks. How adorable. Do you think that red hair is normal for them?”

Schorl went on and on, clamoring over Scylla like a foal would some animal at a zoo, all the while Scylla making sounds of worry and discomfort from behind the gag in her mouth. She must have been so confused and scared about what was going on, and Pathfinder didn’t blame her for being so. This whole ordeal was terrifying, and she didn’t even have the luxury of being aware of her surroundings. All she knew was there were a bunch of ponies making sounds of dismay, anger, and pain all around her, and that meant she would be doing the same herself shortly.

“Schorl,” Path said boldly as he faced the crystal mare, looking a bit silly with his dick still sticking out from her attentions to it, “I understand that you want me to be a slave, but I beg you not to make Scylla go through this too. She’s too-”

“Weak?” Schorl interrupted, “Innocent? Fragile? Timid? Some other trait that makes her perfect for the training we provide here?”

“...Special to me... to see her go through this.” Pathfinder said, finishing his statement. “I don’t care what happens to me, but please let her go. If you do that, I’ll do whatever it is you want of me.” Schorl looked back to Pathfinder, the expression on her face a bit stunned. Something Path had said touched something within her.

At least that is what he thought, until she took that sympathetic look and turned it into a cruel smile moments later. “Sorry, but no can do,” she answered, the glee rolling off her lips. “It’s a sweet sentiment, and you deserve a medal for such selflessness, but we have very important plans for this one.”

“But-!”

“And even if we didn’t, we couldn’t so simply release her back into the public. The whole point of why we bothered to capture you with her in the first place was to prevent you from reporting her disappearance. Why should we assume she wouldn’t do the same, especially for somepony as valorous as you?”

Path had already know that he wasn’t there true target, having heard the crystal mare say so while he was still in the box, but for some reason he had hoped that the offer of a new, completely obedient slave would have peeked her interest.

“Besides, eventually both you and this one will obey the will of The Society regardless. To be honest, you have nothing to offer us.” Turning her back to the netted pony, Schorl fully faced Pathfinder, for once looking him eye to eye, “But… I do understand your position. If my information is correct, you are this mare’s adoptive father. That must make you feel a great deal of responsibility for the girl.”

“That’s right.” Pathfinder replied.

“Then I’ll cut you a small break.” said Schorl, “I’ll allow you to accompany her during her processing and comfort her in this time of need. Normally we keep male and female slaves separate from one another unless they are working or serving a member together, but you are her father, so I don’t think you’re going to try any funny stuff. At least I hope you’re not in one of those kind of relationships.”

“Gross...” said Pathfinder, catching Schorl’s implication of incest.

“Then we are in agreement, for now at least.” Schorl responded, “You can follow us to the processing room and-”

“Actually Lady Tourmaline,” Mi Jin said, cutting into what Schorl had to say for a second time during this encounter, “Your schedule has you in a meeting with Mr. Tailwind.”

“It can be pushed back a while. This is a bit important.” said Schorl, wanting to wave off any other prior engagement in order to see how things turned out with the Society’s newest exotic slave mare.

“It’s about the Griffonstone delivery.” Mi Jin added.

The mention of that particular detail gave the crystal pony pause. Then she placed her hand on her chin, contemplating her options and weighing them against one another. This lead to her mumbling to herself as she paced back and forth, but finally she let out a muffled yell as she clenched her face tightly and screamed into her closed muzzle.

“Fine! I’ll go see Gadwall, but I’m not happy that these two events are conflicting with one another!” Schorl yelled at the lizard-like mare.

“My apologies Lady Tourmaline.” said Mi Jin nonchalantly, “If it pleases you, I’ll submit myself for proper punishment during this evenings’ free time for this lapse in judgement when it comes to your appointments.”

“Yes, do that.” Schorl said, “And see to it that the kelpie and her father make it to the processing room.”

“And would you like me to have the father fill out a contract?” Mi Jin asked.

“Yes, yes,” Schorl answered with a dismissive wave of her hand, “Sartek, would you please accompany me to meet with Mr. Tailwind?”

“And what about me?” Gilda said before the crystal mare left the room.

“Oh yes, your payment,” Schorl said aloud, having truly forgotten about Gilda in all the excitement, “Come along and I will get things settled for you. I’ll even throw in a little bonus on top of everything for being such a good sport about all this.”

Gilda smirked, “Now that’s more like it.” she said following the crystal mare and her minotaur bodyguard out one of several doors that lead out of the room.

Having left, it appeared that Mi Jin had been left in charge of things, and with the authority granted to her by Schorl, she started listing off orders. “Demus,” she said, addressing one of the minotaur that appeared to be standing about more than the others, “I need you to come with me and Rubric to escort the kelpie and her guardian to the processing room.”

“Fine,” the minotaur said, pushing himself off the wall he was leaning against, “I was getting tired of guarding these whiny, untamed slaves anyways.”

The minotaur holding Skylla’s net, of whom Pathfinder deduced was Rubric, tossed it and the sea mammal over his shoulder, prompting a sound of discomfort from Scylla, and a “HEY!” from Path as he protested her treatment.

“Mr. Finder,” Mi Jin said, finally speaking to the pegasus stallion directly, “I suggest that you not yell at the guards. They get a little testy when the slaves start showing resistance, and will have no issue in disciplining you on the spot if they feel like it. Take this as your first and only warning.”

“But-” Pathfinder tried to interject.

The scaled mare wasn’t hearing it though, and stepped away from Pathfinder before he could cause an argument. “Come along Mr. Finder,” she said as she opened a different door from the one Schorl left out of, allowing the minotaur carrying Scylla to walk out ahead of her, “Unless you would rather forgo the privilege Lady Tourmaline granted you and stay here.”

While Pathfinder of course wanted to stay with Scylla, he wasn’t really given the chance to say yes or no as Demus grabbed him by the mane and lead him to the door by force. Pathfinder, unable to do anything else, stepped quickly to minimize the pull as they left the miserable dungeon and the other poor souls locked within its walls.

Once outside the dungeon, Pathfinder found himself in a brightly lit hallway. The pathway had a marble floor, which had a blue carpet laying atop it that was rolled down it from one end of the hall to the other. The walls themselves had several fineries lined up on them, ranging from extravagant paintings, busts of important historical ponies, and draperies made of fine, obviously expensive, fabrics. It looked like a small fortune was spent on this hallway alone.

He had to take in the grandeur of it all on the go though, as Demus kept shoving him down the walkway to keep up with the others. Pathfinder did want to stay as near to Scylla as possible, but the shoving was not appreciated in the slightest. Thankfully it stopped once he made it aside Mi Jin, who was trailing about a foot behind.

“We have a moment until we get to the processing room,” Mi Jin said to Pathfinder as the group walked along, “So I’ll take this time to explain what you are to expect from your stay here.”

“Great…” Path replied, certain that everything she would say was going to be awful.

Mi Jin ignored his sarcasm, and proceeded, “As you are aware, both you and your daughter have been enslaved. As of the moment you were pulled out of your shipping crate, you were considered property and slave stock of The Society, to be used for the purposes of entertainment until a better use for you comes to light, or you are sold off to one of The Society’s members.”

“Entertainment?” Pathfinder asked.

“The Society is a business, Mr. Finder, one that caters to ponies of unique tastes. Ponies who enjoy seeing others in extreme or unusual forms of bondage, watching the tears flow down the cheeks of a helpless victim as their asses are mercilessly paddled, owning a slave who has been trained to believe that they are inferior to a mare or stallion who holds their leash, or simply raping a pony who cannot fight back against them. I could go on with examples, but I believe you get the picture.”

“Right…” said Path, his level of discomfort rising with each of these examples.

“There are a surprising amount of ponies with these fetishistic desires, and Lady Tourmaline, the founder of The Society and owner of this facility, does whatever she can to fulfill these desires, so long as the pony can pay for such experiences and privileges in one form or another.”

As Mi Jin went on, it gave Path ample time to look her over a bit more. Just as he had thought, she was covered in scales, with the only visible portions of hair on her body being atop her head. While looking at her head though, he noticed a little more that he hadn’t in his panic earlier. In her mane, almost hidden, were a pair of small, bark colored nubs sticking out. They looked sorta like antlers, small ones that barely popped out of the mare’s skull. That made Mi Jin’s species even harder to decipher, as all equine races he knew didn’t have such appendages.

Moving downward from there, the pegasus’ gaze locked onto that collar around her neck. He had worn a few collars himself in his time, when he was with Anya, but nothing quite like this one. Getting a better look at it, the neckwear appeared to be custom made to perfectly fit her throat, crafted from a black gemstone of sorts that had been smoothed out so that it had nary a sharp edge upon it. About three fourths the way up it the crystal had a small bump that was hollowed out in the middle to create a small D-loop, one that was unseparated from the collar’s main form, which allowed a golden ring to go through it to create a place to hook a leash. The top and bottom of the collar were trimmed with a similarly golden metal, which did make the collar very attractive to look at, but something about the piece of bondage gear was off.

From where Path was standing, it looked as if the smoothed gemstone wrapped around completely, and had no latched, locks, or hinges to speak of. It was as if it was completely sealed, which would mean that it would be irremovable. Perhaps her mane was just blocking the lock, or perhaps this was the extent that The Society went to prove they owned you. That thought was disheartening, but allowed Pathfinder to learn something; that it appeared Mi Jin was as much a slave of this evil organization as he and Scylla were now.

“As a slave of the Society,” Pathfinder heard, tuning back into Mi Jin’s lecture, “You have no rights except those bestowed upon you by your owner, and a promise that no permanent damage will be done to you, however the exact definition of what is considered ‘damage’ is vague. Just assume it means that you won’t be maimed, scarred or otherwise crippled. Beyond that though, your body can be altered to fit your owner’s ideal image for you, and tattoos, piercings, and even brands can be placed upon you so long as they are considered tasteful.”

“Tasteful?” Path had to inquire.

“Lady Tourmaline prefers that all slaves be left presentable to the public, and thus has created a few rules for slave owners to follow to keep them that way, and give a bit of protection to the slaves. For example, an owner is not allowed to brand the word ‘Bitch’ across your forehead, or use a tattoo to cross out or cover up your cutiemark. However, I have seen some owners use tattoos to accentuate an existing cutiemark. Some look quite lovely.”

“I’m sure…” Path said, hoping that his own cutiemark would not be altered in such a way.

“An owner also can’t remove a slaves teeth to prevent biting, or make you blind or deaf because they think it would be amusing. Lastly, under no circumstances is an untimely death of a slave considered acceptable.”

“And what happens if these ‘owners’ break these rules?”

“Then they end up as slaves themselves.” Mi Jin said bluntly, “And they get to see how it is to be at somepony else’s mercy. Needless to say, no member of The Society is willing to risk that for a cheap thrill.”

“Anything else I should know about this?” Path said with disdain, though actually wanting to know more about his and Scylla’s supposed rights here.

“Only that all aspects of your life are now to be decided by your owner, who is currently Lady Tourmaline herself by default. This includes your appearance, clothing, diet, sleep schedule, hobbies, physical health, sexual preferences, partners, kinks, and breeding.”

“Breeding!?” Path said in shock.

“Yes, should an owner see it fit, they can have you sire offspring. Perhaps you’ll find a mistress who thinks you’re met her physical or mental requirements to be the father of her child.”

“That’s…” Path felt his wings rise a bit a the idea of that. There was something kinda kinky about a woman purchasing you so she could ride your cock and steal your genes. Was that Schorl’s intentions for him? He couldn’t deny that she was an attractive, if incredibly evil, mare, and the thought of having her shimmering crystalline body against his, naked, moving up and down as she… The pegasus had to shake away the flustered feelings of arousal that were starting to overcome him. “There is no way I could do that!” He shouted, his face blushing from the embarrassment of his thoughts.

“We’re here,” Mi Jin said, paying no heed to his outburst.

Pathfinder looked beyond the minotaur in front of him, and spotted a door blocking their way. This must have been the previously mentioned processing room, so just past it awaited Scylla and his fate.

Without wasting any time, the two minotaur entered the room, taking Scylla with them. Pathfinder tried to follow, but before he could set one hoof inside, a clipboard slapped him hard across his bare chest.

“Ow!” he exclaimed, the impact stinging slightly.

“Before you go in,” Mi Jin stated, “I would appreciate if you signed the paper I placed at the front.”

Path took the clipboard in hand, and looked at the sheet of writing at the forefront of it. It looked like some sort of document covered in all sorts of legal mumbo jumbo. He never really had much luck deciphering this sort of stuff. If anything, Scylla was the one to do that, as she was the one who usually looked over their business documents to make sure everything was in order.

“What’s this all about?” Path said, scratching his head.

“It’s a contract that pretty much states that you are submitting yourself and your daughter to a life of servitude as slaves.” Mi Jin answered, “It state all of what I explained on the way here, plus some added information, such as how all property and forms of income you have acquired and will acquire will now belong to your respective owners, and includes a non-disclosure agreement stating that you will not discuss what happens in The Society’s walls with any non-members or non-slaves should you leave this facility.”

“You can’t expect me to actually sign this.” Path protested.

“No,” Mi Jin replied, “I expect you to fight, and curse, and be as resistant to this process as possible, as does Lady Tourmaline. Before you toss that chart down in disgust though, let me ask you if you think it’s worth the effort.”

“What do you mean?” Path asked, not really understanding the point of this if they didn’t really think he was going to sign it.

“Do you believe that the contract in your hands is in any way a legally binding document? It is filled with illegal actions and things that infringe on the Equestria given rights of ponies. Even if it could be used as a real contract, you are clearly signing it under duress, and thus it would not stand up in a court of law. The only reason that piece of paper exists is so Lady Tourmaline can have something she can put away in a file cabinet, for the sole purpose of pulling it out later and smirking at it because you put your name on it. Your signature on that piece of paper means nothing save for serving as amusement for her.”

“Then why should I sign it?” questioned the pegasus, finding the whole thing even more pointless now.

“Because if you don’t sign it then she will have to find her amusement with you and your daughter elsewhere, and that usually involves long sessions of torturous BDSM play with little restraint made on her part. So ask yourself: Is the denial of her satisfaction really worth the punishment you both will receive down the line?”

Pathfinder looked at the paper again, considering his options, or lack thereof.

“If it helps with your decision, Lady Tourmaline does appreciate obedience, and signing that might even make things easier for the two of you.”

“Right, I get it.” The stallion said, taking a pen from off the clipboard. Finding a line at the bottom, he put his name down on it in cursive. “There, does Scylla have to sign it too?”

“No,” Mi Jin replied, swiping the clipboard and her pen back from the pegasus, “As her legal guardian, your signature can count for hers too. Now if you would, please step into the room and submit yourself to processing.”

Reluctantly, Pathfinder stepped into the room, ready as he would ever be for this terrible experience to begin.

Mi Jin stayed in the hall, taking the door and closing it as Pathfinder entered, but not before saying to the pegasus, “Thank you for your cooperation Mr. Finder, and please... enjoy your stay here at The Society.”

Author's Notes:

Guest OC today is Mi Jin, who belongs to Trendy Law, and will be acting as Schorl's personal secretary for the remainder of the story. BTW, while I have not explained her species yet, I have tried to describe it the best I could, and I'm wondering if anyone can identify it bsed solely on the description. Feel free to leave a comment below if you feel you've figured it out.

Rest...

The door closed behind Pathfinder, separating him from the horrific dungeon he had awoken in, and the somewhat less frightening hallway that came after it. He was now in what had been called the “processing room”, and what he saw inside had him looking around, almost stunned in disbelief.

The contrast to what else he had seen in this place was like stepping out of a nightmare and into a dream. The room he had entered looked like a spa, with massage tables, bubbling pools of water, and seats designed for resting ponies as they were pampered with manicures, horn filings, and mane cuts, as well as other such beautifying and relaxing luxuries, were all about this room. If the pegasus didn’t know better, he would have thought the earlier events were all a terrible delusion, and that he had just woken up in the middle of his pre-planned vacation.

What was even more astounding were the creatures attending these stations. Dozens of white-tailed deer, both stags and does, all with small nub-like protrusions on their heads that acted as their antlers, and each busy about tending to ponies that had occupied this room before Scylla and Path’s arrival. Some of these cervids were completely naked, showing their full forms to the world as they went about the task of spa worker, straddling the backs of ponies as they applied pressure to key points of their muscles and spine as the ones under them laid face down on the massage tables. Others wore skimpy pink nurse outfits, stags included, as they took syringes filled with substances unknown to Pathfinder, and injected them into some of the equines, aiming their needles at very sensitive areas around the crotch and rear.

Lastly, there was a singular doe walking around in a white coat, front open with nothing underneath. She was going around and inspecting the progress each deer was making on their… clients, Pathfinder decided to call them, in the attempt to make this seem more pleasant than it probably would be. With that unique look to her, Path assumed that she had some more authority than the others. What that truly meant though, was uncertain, as all of them wore collars around their necks, each of a variety of styles. Making an educated assumption, Path figured the collars weren’t some sort of fashion statement these deer were making, but an indication that they too were enslaved. They looked a little too content with their current situation if that were the case though, with most smiling or giggling as they went about their business.

Their presence also brought to mind one glaring question to Path’s mind: Where did all these deer come from? He knew of the rumors saying there was a small kingdom for deer that lived in the Everfree Forest, but he didn’t believe that the settlement was large enough that so many could go missing without somepony noticing. Surely if there were signs of mass abductions, then somepony like the princess would have been alerted to it. So where did all these deer come from?

Pathfinder was not left to wonder about this at the entrance door for long, as the minotaur named Demus spotting the pegasus dallying, and came over to push him along. Pathfinder quietly complied, allowing the minotaur to guide him in the direction the other minotaur was taking Scylla.

The eventual destination they were led to was a sizable masseuse table, one big enough for two. The table, which had a covering of firm padding atop it like most tables of its type, also had several chained shackles coming out from its center, two sets near the foot of the table and two on the opposite side at the table’s front. It was their presence that made Pathfinder observe the table more thoroughly, and see that there were also large straps on the sides, with two buckles for them placed in the center of the table, to which he assumed they were used to further bind a pony in place.

This discovery caused him to take a second look at the other pieces of furniture around, and lead to him figuring out that all the devices had similar setups to bind their occupants into them. In fact, upon further inspection, he could see that the restraints were being used on all the other ponies there already. It seemed that Schorl was very careful about how she allowed her enslaved ponies to relax, and wasn’t about to risk an escape attempt mid-session.

It gave the otherwise relaxing spa atmosphere an oppressive aura, one that might dishearten those who the chains were meant for, but Pathfinder couldn’t let that happen. Not when Scylla was depending on him to save her. With this many precautions set up against their escape, this was not going to be easy, but the stallion promised to himself that he would find a way.

As Pathfinder scoped the spa for anything that could help he and Scylla with just such an escape plan, the minotaur carrying Scylla decided to set his captive down. Pulling the net that held her back over his shoulder, he raised it above the table and proceeded to drop Scylla down on it. The kelpie let out a meek yelp at the sensation of falling and the sudden stopping a split second later, but aside from being overcome with shock, she was not harmed from the incredibly short plummet.

“Kelpie,” the minotaur said to her, his voice deep and filled with a powerful presence, “I am going to untie you now. As I do, you will stay as still as possible. Do you understand?”

Still gagged from her initial abduction, the aquatic mare gave a whimper and a nod in return.

“Good,” The minotaur replied, reaching for a sizable knife at his side.

The gryphons had tied the netting around Scylla in a heavy knot, and the minotaur had not the patience to undo it. With a careful placement of the blade and a swift swipe of it across the fiber strands, the netting fell down around Scylla, removing one of the many bindings that held the mare.

Scylla felt the absence of the net but continued to hold still for her captor. She was too scared to make any movement, save for short and rapid breaths. The only thing that kept her remotely calm was the thought that her father was close by. She had heard Pathfinder talking to a few women, heard one of them explain to him that they were her property now, while the other explained some sort of rules she was too panicked to understand. Had he not been around, she wouldn’t know what to do except cry, but there was a sense of security felt with the knowledge that he was watching over her.

From behind the blindfold that was formerly her bikini top, Scylla heard the rattling of keys and then felt the chains that had held her wrists and ankles fall off her. “I’m going to remove your gag and blindfold now. You will remain quiet as I do. Understood?” She heard from the unseen male, to which she could only nod again.

The man slipped his large fingers into the straps of fabric, and pulled them from the kelpie’s head, returning to her the ability to both see and speak in one quick motion. With her vision unobstructed, she could see the massive minotaur standing in front of her. Scylla knew that her captor was big from the feel of him as she was carried here, but still, the sight of him towering over her while sitting atop a table no less, was intimidating.

He was a mountain of a creature, with muscles that were chiseled like stone. His biceps alone looked like they could crush iron between them, and his hair covered pectorals had a density to them that few ponies could hope to match. It was clear just by the sight of the beastly bovine that he would have no trouble tearing her in half if he wanted, and that alone gave the kelpie reason to continue obeying his demands, as his fearsome visage and grumpy expressions gave her the notion that he was not one who appreciated misbehavior from his prisoners.

As she stared at the minotaur, fearfully awaiting what was next to come, she heard her father’s voice from beside her, “Scylla,” he called, running to her side and taking her hand in his own, “Are you ok? Did he hurt you?”

“I-I’m fine,” She replied, more startled than physically harmed. This was all so surreal, as being kidnapped was something she thought only happened in stories. Never did she believe that it was something that really happened to ponies. At least not to a pony as insignificant as herself. She was just a mare who ran a counter in a map shop, not a princess or the heiress to some multi-million bit company. Why in Equestria would anypony want to do this to her and Pathfinder?

With Scylla unbound, the bull’s attention shifted. “Xenia!” He yelled, disrupting whatever peaceful atmosphere the room had beforehand.

The booming shout drew the attention of most those in earshot, but of them all, it particularly drew the gaze of the one doe wearing the white coat. At the call of her name, she practically pranced over in excitement.

“Master Rubric,” she said, addressing the minotaur that summoned her, “How may I be of service?”

Scylla and Pathfinder watched curiously as the deer tilted her head downward, spread out her arms, and placed one hoof behind her as she momentarily bent the other leg, giving a short bow of respect to the minotaur.

“This mare here needs to be prepared for tonight’s special event,” The other minotaur spoke up to the deer, “She is to be purified and made beautiful for her future master.”

“Master Demus, pleasure to see you as always,” the deer greeted the other minotaur, turning to him to give the same bow, allowing Scylla and Pathfinder to see that this gesture left the front of the doe completely exposed, and presented her most alluring parts to be on full display from behind her open white coat, “Tonight’s special event?” She then said aloud to herself as she got back on both hooves, “You wouldn’t be talking about-”

“We expect you to work with both haste and quality in mind.” Rubric instructed the doe, “As this is a very special mare intended for a very special purpose.”

Scylla’s eyes widened as she heard this, thoughts running through her mind about what this special purpose was. Were they going to sell her off to some foreign dignitary to be made into one of his harem mares and dance for his amusement? Was she going to be sent to some deep, dark dungeon where her body would be teased and tormented for hours on end, bringing her to the edge of climax over and over again till her spirit breaks? Was she destined to become some common whore, force into addictions to both drugs and sex that would only come at her obedience? Perhaps she had just read too many erotic novellas that featured darker themes, but with all the talk of sexual slavery and how ‘special’ she was, it made her heart race and her body tremble with terror of what would happen if such a story became her reality.

“Understood my masters,” Xenia said with great reverence towards the two bulls, “I shall perform my duty on this young mare with diligence and finesse, as you have come to expect from me…” Pausing for a moment, the deer then turned an eye to Pathfinder, “But what of the pegasus with her?”

“He is her guardian,” Rubric explained, “And the crystal mare has given him special privileges to be by her side during processing. Do with him as you wish, so long as it doesn’t get in the way of the kelpie’s treatment.”

“Will do my masters,” the deer said, flicking her tail a bit in excitement, “I’ll make sure they are both cleaned, ready for use, and made presentable for the Society.”

“Then we leave it to you,” Demus said while beginning to walk off, he only paused a moment when he noticed his associate wasn’t coming along, “Staying here to watch the show?”

“No, I want to get ready for tonight’s event the same as you do.” Rebric replied.

“Then get a move on. You know how these things work.”

As Demus left his fellow minotaur, Rubric stayed behind for a moment longer to look over the kelpie. He tilted his head a few times, viewing her body at every angle he could without moving from spot. It made Scylla very self-conscious, and reminded her that her body was actually devoid of coverings. Instinctually, she covered herself to hide her private areas, an arm going over her breasts while she cupped her crotch.

The minotaur, noticing her shyness, reached out to her. “Don’t you dare touch her!” Pathfinder yelled at the much larger male, to which the pegasus was met by a hand that gripped his muzzle to silence him.

With Pathfinder held in place by his mouth, the minotaur continued his advance on the aquatic mare unhindered. Scylla recoiled slightly, but not enough to avoid the minotaur’s hand. The bull placed his hand under the kelpie’s chin, squeezing firmly enough to force a slightly pained wince from the girl. With her held, he went on to turn her head left and right, twisting it with his immense strength so he could get a better look at her features.

Scylla did her best to comply with his movements, as the less resistance she gave the less it hurt, and eventually was let free from the grip entirely when the bull had become satisfied. “You are a very pretty mare.” Rubric said bluntly, “Your future master will be very happy to have you wearing his collar.”

“Umm… thank you?” Scylla replied, a bit confused about this odd compliment given to her.

Still, it seemed to please the minotaur that she acknowledges it, and he broke what was up until now a generally stoic expression to give her a smirk. “You’ll do just fine here.” With those final words, the minotaur released Pathfinder’s snout and left the two ponies relatively alone with Xenia.

“I think he likes you.” said the deer with a smile, and a bit of a song in her voice.

“He could like us a little less…” Pathfinder said, rubbing his nose.

“Oh don’t give their roughhousing any mind. Minotaurs just like asserting their dominance on the ‘weaker races’,” Xenia said, dismissing the earlier event, “But as interesting as their cultural practices are, I’m more interested in you at the moment.” Just like that, the deer woman took the minotaur’s role in invading Scylla’s personal space, placing her hands on the massage table so she could lean over it into the kelpie. “Your skin is so smooth and hairless. I have never seen anything like this on a sentient being before.”

“Sen… ti… ent?” Scylla asked, unfamiliar with the word the strange doe rubbing against her body had said.

“Capable of thought,” Pathfinder clarified in the simplest terms he could think of, not wishing to cause further confusion for his daughter in this already weird situation.

Placing an explorative hand on Scylla’s body, the deer proceeded to say, “I was led to believe in my interactions with other species that only creatures with fur or scales had evolved to recognize speech patterns, but save for your mane you don’t have either over an inch of your body.” Xenia's hand traveled to the lower half of Scylla’s body and slid between her thighs. “Must be nice to have naturally hairless and smooth skin down here.”

It took a moment for Scylla to register that the deer was touching her labia, but when she did the kelpie scooted across the table she sat upon as quickly as her rump would let her, squeaking out a small sound of discomfort as pull away from the cervine female.

Xenia held up her hands in response to the kelpie’s actions, saying “It’s ok, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m a doctor.”

“You are?” Scylla asked curiously.

“Of course she isn’t,” Pathfinder stated, “She’s just saying that so she can fondle you.”

“No, no,” The deer woman said to dismiss Path’s claim, waving her hand about as if it would push away his words, “I really am a doctor, or perhaps ‘scientist’ is a better word. I know a lot about equine anatomy, and you’re not too removed from a standard pony.”

The insistence of being a scientist was a bit fishy to Pathfinder, as the rumors he had heard spoke of deer being fairly druidic, attuned with nature more than things he associated science with, like complex machines and medicines. Then again, he might have just been overgeneralizing things.

“Now that we have that cleared up,” The deer proceeded to say, “Do you two mind if we get started with the kelpie’s processing?”

“And if we refuse?” Path had to ask, lest he failed at his role as Scylla’s protector.

“Then I have to go get a few of the minotaur masters, they give both your flanks a good paddling, and then you get chained down so we can process you without any further problems. I would rather you just go along to save time, effort, and pain, but if you really want to resist…”

Path could see a worried look growing on Scylla’s face from the deer’s blunt statement of the events that would follow if he tried to fight this, and decided that it wasn’t worth it if it only led to more harm for his daughter.

“Fine, what do we have to do?” he reluctantly said in compliance.

“You don’t have to do anything but watch,” Xenia said, “But the kelpie needs to lay face down on the table and stay as still as possible.”

“Oh no,” Path objected, climbing onto the table himself, “I’m not letting you put her through this while I stand idly by. Anything you do to her, you can do to me too.”

“Dad, you don’t…” Scylla tried to say as Path got into place, she herself repositioning her body so her front half laid flat across the table top.

“I wouldn’t tell you to do anything I wouldn’t do myself, and I refuse to make you suffer this alone.” Pathfinder said sternly, showing no fear of what was to come.

Scylla saw the resolve on her caregiver’s face, and she began to feel her own fear melt away as well, as Pathfinder had hoped it would. Within seconds the father-daughter pair were laying side by side, nude, fronts down, with their privates hidden from each other’s view by the table they now laid upon.

They had both expected the deer to begin with whatever it was she had in store for them, but the deer had plans of her own. Now in position, their bodies lined up aside each other, the deer took the opportunity to take their two pony rumps into her grasp. The two ponies jumped slightly as their rear ends were slapped by the doe, each on the cheek furthest from the other, before the two lumps of butt fat were squeezed to the point of making deep indents around the deer’s fingers. It didn’t stop there either, as Xenia proceeded to place her head between the now shocked and surprised ponies, only to pull them both closer to one another until the innermost cheeks were pressed against her face.

“Such plump pony patoots.” Xenia declared, rubbing herself up and down against the bare bottoms, making sounds of clear enjoyment as she did.

While the doe was deriving great pleasure from this lewd act of ass worship, the objects of her affection were less than pleased, with Path himself being so bold as saying, “Ahem, excuse me.” to her in a fairly annoyed tone.

“Is something the matter?” Xenia asked, pressing her face more into Path’s ass, and going so far as to lick his cutie mark in one excruciatingly long slurp that traveled from one end of it to the other.

Path quivered at the warm wetness felt across his backside, a feeling that pleased his flesh while bothering his mind. “Is this part of our ‘processing’?!”

“Not at all,” Xenia replied with pure honesty, “This is just a little fun before we get started.” Having said that, the deer lifted her head slightly and placed the end of her muzzle at the base of his tail.

“What are you doing n-EH!” Path asked, ending his sentence with a yelp. That yelp then turned to an inward sucking of air through clenched teeth, as the pegasus stallion’s back arched against his will, and his wings likewise turned traitorous by extending to a full spread.

“Did you like that?” Xenia asked, nibbling down lightly at the exact spot where Path’s tailbone entered his rear. “It has been my experience that ponies love having their little crevices toyed with. Around the tail, behind the ears, the spaces around the neck.”

Pathfinder said nothing in return and stuck with sucking and blowing air through his teeth. He knew that if he tried to speak a word, he would only let loose a moan, and he wasn’t about to let Scylla see him forced into pleasure like this.

“And what of the kelpie?” said Xenia, turning her attentions to the sea mammalon the other side of her, “Are you as sensitive there as this pegasus?”

Xenia released Scylla’s buns, and instead took hold of her thick, dolphin-like tail. Just as she did with the kelpie’s father, she attacked the bend of flesh that connected the appendage to the rest of her body.

“EEEEEPP!” Scylla squealed out at the mere touch of the teeth, and quickly pressed her face into the padding beneath her to brace against the surge of unwanted feelings shooting through her. Unlike Pathfinder, she didn’t have the benefit of a layer of fur to defend against the sensations.

“Ooh hoo,” Xenia said as she observed Scylla’s reactions. Not only her verbal response, but the rest of her body as well. Specifically how her tail had taken to flicking about. The mass of muscles was trying to break free from the doe’s grip, actually managing to do so a few times until Xenia reaffirmed her grip. “That is amazing. It’s like your hairless flesh is even more sensitive to touching.”

The doe wasn’t too far off from the truth. Despite her skin being thick and rubbery, the lack of fur pretty much evened out the sensitivity of it. However, she wasn’t flailing about because of a weakness of the flesh, but a weakness of her tail. That part of her body had always been a soft spot for her, and she had to be very careful with it when not in the water. She had always assumed that it had to be that way, that it helped her better locate things while swimming, but right now it was not helping her out as she was being violated.

This only worsened when the doe decided to experiment with this further, and test the tail’s reactions to their limits. With a press of her tongue at the start of its base, Xenia went along the tail’s length as far as she could get it in a single motion. Lightning shot through her as nerves connected directly from the tail to her spine came to life, and zipped as quickly as they could to her brain. Scylla couldn’t help but scream from the intensity of it,

“Brilliant!” Xenia exclaimed, truly enraptured by the pure pleasure the mare was displaying. She was so pleased by this that she gave the tail a few more quick licks, receiving a new scream from Scylla as a reward for each one.

The squeals and screams from Scylla did not go unnoticed, and Pathfinder spotted several of the deer in the area turning their head in their direction. Some of the ones who weren’t busy with other ponies even came over to get a better look at the odd-looking pony making the most delightful sounds.

“Who is this?” asked a stag, placing a hand on Scylla’s body without qualm, showing great interest in this pony who’s breed he had never encountered before.

Xenia stopped taking in the kelpie’s flavor long enough to reply to her associate. “She is a special guest who will be attending tonight’s event.”

“Really?!” A doe said, clearly excited about whatever that meant, “Then can we join in with her processing?”

“I suppose it is time I stopped having fun and actually got to work.” Looking over to the group crowding around them, giving a pout to her fellow deer, “But you know there aren’t enough positions here for everyone.”

The herd around them let out a joined groan of disappointment, knowing that some of them were not going to be allowed the chance to spend time with this new, interesting slave mare.

“Now, now, we must remember,” Xenia stated, picking herself up from the table she had been leaning over, “We don’t do this for our own satisfaction. We do this in service to the masters, so they may flourish and prosper.”

The deer all gave murmurs of agreement, but it was still obvious that they were upset with the situation.

“Now then, for the kelpie I’ll take… you, you, you, and you.” Xenia said, pointing to four stags in rapid succession. The rest let out a chorus of ‘Awww’s, and started to drift back to other parts of the spa room. That was until Xenia said, “And as for the pegasus next to her…” The deer all span back to face the doe, who was already pointing at four other does she wanted for the task. “You can join us.”

The herd dispersed once more, though with four fewer members as the chosen triumphantly skipped over to join with the stags and form a small team.

With her subordinates assembled, Xenia began giving out orders, “This will be a routine processing procedure for the girl. However, the pegasus has requested that he receive everything she does, so make sure to do your best to respect his wishes.”

Pathfinder rolled his eyes hearing this, having long since recovered from the niblings at his tail bone. This deer didn’t care that his wishes were respected, she just saw it as another reason to molest the two of them. She was just as perverse as the creatures she called masters, the crystal mare and the minotaur that worked under her, along with whoever else was part of this so called ‘Society’. He also had no reason to assume the other deer were any different, seeing their enthusiasm towards the idea of joining in on this violation.

“Two of you tend to their bodies,” Xenia instructed, “Two of you attend to their pleasure, and two make sure they are presentable. The last of you can make sure they are well fed. Who knows how long they’ve gone without eating in their travels. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Like a well trained unit, the eight deer broke off and went to their tasks, none of them stumbling over one another as they graceful and non-verbally separated the tasks given to them. As if a mirror image of one another, the does and the stags went to the pony of opposite gender, with one from each team climbing up on the massage table, and two others taking Xenia’s place at their back ends.

The other four rushed off to retrieve items to help with the tasks they were charged with, the ones taking up the job of readying their appearances grabbing small kits filled with makeup and hoof polish, leaving the other two to gather up a food from a buffet table that had been set up in the center of the room.

While this all happened around them, Pathfinder was trying to keep track of what each of the deer were doing, and if they were trying to pull some sort of trick during this, but understood well that there was little reason they had to do something underhanded or sneaky when he and Scylla were at their mercy. When turning an eye to the ones going for food though, the doe that climbed the table next to him decided to climb over the pegasus’ body, and straddled his back between her legs.

Pathfinder gave a small “Oof” as she applied her weight down on his spine, though she was dainty enough that she didn’t actually hurt him. Positioned as she was though, Pathfinder could feel her bare pussy press up against him. Looking to Scylla, she likewise had a stag on top of her, pinning her down with the weight of his upper body, though likewise in a manner that didn’t appear to cause harm to her.

“Now relax you two.” The stag said, leaning forward to place his palms on Scylla’s shoulder blades.

The doe atop Pathfinder did the same, and finished her partner’s line by adding, “And let us do all the work.”

The two deer got to task, and began rubbing the ponies down with their palms. Path, still very apprehensive to this whole ordeal, didn’t exactly follow the instruction given to him to relax at first, but he couldn’t help but give in to how good the rubbing felt compared to all of his previous treatment. He had been very stiff after being crammed in that crate, and the manhandling from that one minotaur hadn’t helped either. As much as he hated to admit it, this was somewhat pleasant, even if the doe had a habit of moving her body so that her mound rubbed across his fur.

“Here you go!” Another doe said as she came aside him, laying down a bottle on the table that the deer on his back quickly snatched up, turned upside down, and squirted the contents of it onto Pathfinder’s back.

Path couldn’t see what it was exactly, but it felt warm and liquidy, though a little thick. As the deer on him rubbed it in, he couldn’t help but feel more and more relaxed, and found that Scylla was also taking this all much better than she probably should, having closed her eyes so she could take in the feeling of her stag masseuse's hands tenderizing her flesh.

The pegasus felt like he could have done the same, until the doe that had delivered the bottle took his wing in hand and stretched it out. This woke him back up real quick, and for once he took his watchful eye away from Scylla.

“Are you enjoying your oil rub?” The doe aside the table asked, his wing in one hand and a brush in the other. The question was somewhat rhetorical though, and before Path could answer, she placed her tool down on his feathers, cautiously brushing his feathers so not to ruffle them.

While not as good as dedicated preening, the brush did help enhance the sensations he was already feeling. Being pampered like this felt undoubtedly wonderful to his body, no matter how much unease it put on his mind. All and all, this small slice of an overall terrible experience was… pleasant, and had none of the other upsetting things involved with it had happened, Pathfinder could even see himself enjoying it.

That is, he could have said that until he felt a pair of hands grab hold of his rump again. This time on both cheeks, forcing the two rounded body parts as far apart from one another as they would go. “What a spreadable rear you have.” A third doe said from behind.

Scylla squealed aloud next to him, and Path knew that she was likewise being handled in such a lewd manner, with everything between her legs exposed to some guy neither of them knew. This was where his patience for this ended, but of course there was little he could do about it. He didn’t have to enjoy it though, which was what he was now set to do, and he took to grumbling aloud as he was groped at all ends.

The deer all noted his apparent annoyance, but his sentiments didn’t matter to them one bit, least of all to the doe that had his ass held in her palms. She was far too busy with other things to pay heed to his considers, like diving her face into Path’s privates. How the pegasus jumped when he felt her mouth wrap around his cock, which had never yet had the chance to resheath itself since Schorl made it come out from its home. At best his cock had reverted to a state of semi erectness, but that quickly changed back to a solid mass of pony meat when the doe surrounded it in the warmth of her breath, and the wetness of her tongue.

And as expected, the stag behind Scylla followed the actions of his female partner, pressing his own muzzle into her unwanting slit so he could join in on orally satisfying his charge. He started by gliding his tongue over her vulnerable lower lips, getting the entirety of her crotch significantly moist in his saliva. Once satisfied with his work, he pushed his tongue into more forbidden territory, entering it into the kelpie’s hole without so much as a word of warning.

Scylla made the most adorable sounds of protest as he wriggled his tongue about inside her, but of course where her mouth said ‘no’, her body whispered ‘yes’ by giving a series of gentle spasms from her honey pot, which had taken to spilling out some of the syrupy nectar it held within. The stag was more than happy to help with this overflow of fluids though, and took to slurping it up in a very loud, and fairly obnoxious way, as if he wanted to make sure to the kelpie that he was not only making her juices flow, but was savoring the taste of it as well.

The sexual attention from the two deer tonguing their privates made the two ponies squirm, grunt, and groan as they both did their best to deny the pleasure building in them, but the other deer just laughed at their attempts. They knew well that there was no refusing the wants of the flesh, and that given time the ponies would beg for this kind of treatment. That was how most ponies ended up after being trained anyways, and they didn’t believe either of these two to be particularly strong of will.

The buck dealing with Scylla’s grooming even had a plan to further intensify her pleasure, and taking a wet rag he had been using to wash down her body as his counterpart brushed Path’s wings, he went down to her tail and started rubbing it vigorously.

“NOOOO!!!” Scylla yelled, her sensitive tail once more at the end of an assault of sensations. The stag had no clue how delicate one had to be when touching her tail, and how much care had to be taken so not to cause her to- “AAAAAHHHHH!!!” She screamed again, having tried to bottle up her emotions and failed.

“Oh wow!” She heard come from behind her, having a good idea what had happened, her face already trying to match the color of her mane because of it. “This one is a gusher. I almost drowned back here.”

“Oooooooo…” Scylla groaned, crossing her arms in front of her so she could bury her face into them. She was mortified, having been forced into orgasm by a bunch of random guys. While she was far from a virgin, she never considered herself anything like a slut or a whore, but these deer males certainly were making her feel like it now. Considering herself now ‘less pure’, she lamented over the idea that no stallion would ever want to marry her now that she had been tarnished, which was a somewhat silly thing to focus on, seeing as the Society had much worse things than an involuntary orgasm in store for the girl.

Pathfinder, having to watch Scylla lament while he received a mere tail brushing from his doe attendant, could not stay quiet over this defilement. “Hey you,” He said sternly to the stag wiping down his daughter’s tail, “Do you mind leaving that part of her alone?”

“Sorry sir, but Lady Tourmaline likes the slaves to be nice and clean.” The stag answered, too preoccupied with the thick, fidgeting tail in his hands to give Path so much of a look.

“It’s clean…” Scylla moaned out from behind her arms, each additional rub causing her entire body to flinch, the small pleasurable pulses reminding her of her recent shame, “Its cllleeeaaannn.”

“You heard her,” Path added, “I think she would know when her own tail is dirty.”

The cleaning stag sighed, and released the appendage. “Very well, then I suppose it is time to apply some make up.”

That announcement made Pathfinder feel a bit better, happy enough with the notion that the stag wouldn’t be molesting Scylla any more, even if there was another one cleaning another sensitive part of her body in an even lewder way. The point was to make this all as easy on her as possible, and thus any small victory was a plus.

“Sorry for the wait,” Pathfinder suddenly heard from in front of him. It was the doe tasked with feeding him, finally rejoining with her peers. She, and the stag that shared her duties, had returned with a pair of plates bearing many fruits upon them. Grapes, apples, cut bananas, and much more, all held before the two ponies’ faces as the servile cervines knelt down in front of them. “Please, feel free to eat anything and everything that pleases your palate.”

Path was indeed hungry, but he had no reason to trust any of the food given to him in a place like this. The crystal mare could have done something to it, drugged it with something to make his will more malleable. Later he might have to eat out of necessity, but he wanted to refrain from doing so until he absolutely had no other choice.

“AHMPH!”

Before Path had so much as a chance to decline the offer though, the sounds of chewing and gulping hit his ears, and seeing how well things were going for him, he had little doubt as to what was going on just a few inches away. A slight turn of his head allowed the image of a certain red haired kelpie to enter his field of vision, as well as the strangely purple peach she had already halfway devoured.

She must’ve seen the food as a way to bury her embarrassment, or at least that is what Pathfinder assumed watching her gulp down that ripened peach and move on to a couple of pear slices without taking a breath in between the two. Perhaps she was just hungry though, and was putting no thought into where she was like the pegasus was. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter much now that she had swallowed some of the presented snacks. Either they were drugged, and thus she would feel the effects of it once it got into her system, or they were harmless and Pathfinder was worrying about nothing. With things being how they turned out, Path honestly hoped he was wrong about this particular hunch.

That really was all Pathfinder could hope for, seeing as all control of his life had been seemingly stripped from him. What more could he do but lay there and let the deer finish what they were going to do to him? He hated to think it, but he had no options otherwise. He couldn’t fight, not if one of those minotaur decided to join in and subdue him. He couldn’t fly away, the facility he was in being confined and enclosed. Even if he could get away, they had Scylla as a hostage, and as much as Path trusted his daughter, he didn’t believe that she would be able to keep up with him should he figure out some daring method of escape. This was going to be a difficult situation to work their way out of, if it was possible to do that at all.

Shutting his eyes, Path went through his thoughts, tracing his steps he made since the dungeon, and try to work things out. Unfortunately, all he could think about was how after this he and Scylla would be dragged deeper into the facility, which would surely make escape that much more difficult.

Focused as he was on the idea of leaving this horrid place, Pathfinder barely paid any mind to all the things happening to him. He gave a few grunts whenever the doe on his back pressed down harder to get the kinks out of his muscles, or when the one at his crotch made a long lick along his shaft, but otherwise he wanted to be alone with his thoughts. He only left an ear open for Scylla in case she became distressed again.

But for now she seemed to be content with the distraction the food tray provided. Because of this, he paid no mind when he felt something brush up against his face, the object lightly touching his cheeks first, then going over both his eyelids. He thought nothing of it though, at most understanding that the less fuss he made, the less time it would take for the deer women to finish. He kept this mentality when he felt the first object go away, and a much smaller object touched his eyelashes, running across them several times, believing that ignoring this change of tool bore no consequence. It was only when he felt a slick sensation run over his lips, leaving behind a greasy residue along its path, that the pegasus grew suspicious of what was going on.

His eyelids burst open as if his relaxation was disrupted by the sound of shattering glass, though the only thing that had broke was whatever small semblance of security that he assumed he had in this room. He was not surprised at all by what the doe was doing to him, but incredibly discomforted that what he thought was happening to him was actually happening.

The doe had been applying makeup on him, starting with blush, and ending with lipstick, with an application of mascara and eye shadow in between. “What the hay?!” He yelled as he watch the red stick of oils and wax pass by his field of vision, the doe having just finished. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

Placing a cap on the makeup tube, the deer answered Pathfinder by saying, “You requested everything that happened to the kelpie to happen to you, did you not?”

Path turned his head to Scylla, and she had indeed been given an application of makeup as well. Her cheeks had a tint of red over them, though not all of it was because of makeup. Her eyelids were a deep blue, and her lips a deep crimson. He hated to think it, but it really made Scylla look like a cheap hooker, and further made him wonder if that was accidental or not.

As terrible as that was though, it only acted as a minor distraction from his own makeover, Path couldn’t see himself, but he had no reason to believe he fared any better than his daughter. Instinctively, he moved his arm across the front of his muzzle.

“Awww…” the makeup girl bemoaned, her work ruined in a single action.

“Don’t you ‘Awww’ me!” Path said angrily as he smeared off the blush on his cheeks, “You should know better than to do that to a guy!”

“But you looked so good with it on.,,” The doe said, grabbing a hand mirror. She presented it in front of Path, hoping that his reflection would prevent the pegasus from messing up more of her efforts.

It had quite the opposite reaction though, as Pathfinder despised how good a job she had done. Even smeared as it was, Pathfinder found it hard to associate the mental image he had of himself with the pretty mare in the glass. There was no question of the doe’s talent, as she had done a stellar job prettying up Path, especially when compared to the stag who had done up Scylla. That only made matters worse though, as the superior skills of the deer woman damaged Pathfinder’s already sensitive views of his own masculinity. Removing the stuff she put on his face wasn’t a matter of preference, but a compulsion to rid himself of this incredibly convincing girlish appearance.

“Is there a problem over here?” said Xenia from behind the two ponies, having snuck back to the tables from wherever she had been all this time. On her return though, Xenia was met with the pegasus squirming much more than she would have liked.

“The stallion didn’t like the makeover I gave him.” The doe explained, saddened by Pathfinder’s reaction.

“I’m not wearing makeup.” Path exclaimed, making it clear by his tone that it was the presence of the makeup itself that was his issue, and not anything to do with the quality of the doe’s work. If he could have, he would have expressed his displeasure to Xenia’s face, but he still had another doe on his back keeping him where he was.

“Fine,” Xenia said nonchalantly, “No one said you had to. If anything, it was your own want to share the kelpie’s experience that brought this on.”

“Oh...“ Hearing that calmed Pathfinder down a little, the stallion glad to know that he was not mandated to look like a girl.

“And what about you?” Xenia said, tapping the back of Scylla’s thigh, “Anything making you especially uncomfortable?”

“N-no… I’m fine… I think…” Scylla answered, not nearly as brave enough to complain to her captors like her father had.

“Good, then we’ll get the pegasus a wet rag, and everypony will be happy.”

“Happy is an overstatement,” Pathfinder replied, “We’re still being forced to do this.”

“Yes, yes, I understand your stance on the situation, but you seem to misunderstand ours.” Xenia said keeping her casual, almost uncaring tone, “It’s not like we want you to be here, or to make you miserable. We are just doing our jobs as slaves. If we didn’t do what we were told, we would just be punished for misbehavior and you would have to endure a less hospitable form of processing. I’m not saying that we’re doing you any favors with this, but if we don’t go out of our way to complicate things for one another, then neither of us need to suffer more than need be.”

Path had to admit, that was a rather level headed approach to this, though still not ideal. Also that he hadn’t really been thinking of these deer, who he had acknowledged as slaves themselves, to be a separate entity from those who had forced him and Scylla into this in the first place.

“I just wish you all weren’t so chipper about us being glammed up so a bunch of arrogant ponies can bid over our bodies.” he grumbled as the doe that applied his makeup unhappily cleaned it off.

“We all cope with this ordeal our own ways,” Xenia answered, “And me and my kin have decided it is best to at least act like we are enjoying this. If we didn’t at least try to appear happy, then we’d always be sad.”

“That sounds terrible…” Scylla commented.

“Perhaps, but always being miserable and depressed is much worse. Not to mention, it makes you a target for the more sadistic members of The Society. Some here would like nothing more than to make somepony’s bad situation even worse.”

“Okay,” Pathfinder said, now understanding exactly what was going on with these deer, “Sorry for being so hostile.”

“No need to apologize,” said Xenai, “You’ve been much more compliant than some others that come in here. A third of the time one of us get a fist or hoof when trying to do this. Another third tries to make a break for it, and we get in trouble for not stopping them.”

“That explains the chains…” Path said, remembering that there were several sets attached to the very table he was laying on.

“And really, it’s me who should be apologizing.” Xenia continued on to say.

“For what?” asked Scylla.

“For this.” Taking the moment of surprise that came from her announcement, the deer woman stuck a pair of syringes into the prone ponies.

... and Violation

Both Scylla and Pathfinder winced and yelped as they felt the sharp sting of the needles piercing their skin, entering their bodies at the soft spots that were their O-rings. The pain was enough to make them try to get up, but the deer atop them were ready for this and placed their arms on the ponies’ shoulders, applying all the weight they had to keeping them in place.

Xenia pushed down the plungers on the syringes, shooting the fluids they held into the two ponies, before taking them out to grab another set she had close by. With these ones she aimed for both of the ponies’ genitals, sticking one into Pathfinder’s swollen urethra, and the other into Scylla’s moistened pussy lips.

For the two ponies, this experience was short, but agonizing. Even as the needles were removed, they could still feel the presence of the thin cylinders of metal. Not only that, but they felt the flowing of a foreign substance inside them. Not the liquid itself exactly, but the effect it was causing to their bodies. A spreading sense of ‘change’ was going through their rectums. Nothing identifiable, but still noticeable. That itself was cause for concern, as they were starting to become very aware of their insides. It was like the nerves inside the fleshy tunnels were brought to an awakening, and things that their brain would usually push to the back of it’s recesses were suddenly brought to the forefront.

As for their genitals, Pathfinder quickly learned that his penis was no longer going to allow the table beneath him to hold it back. It wanted, no, needed to be fully erect, and every second it wasn’t was causing the pegasus great discomfort as his solidified shaft bent in ways it would not tolerate. Path lifted his rear end up to allow his cock the freedom of movement it required, sliding the doe on his back forward in the process, but as soon as his dick shot into place he felt a rather firm pillow being slid underneath his stomach. It was comfortable enough that he could rest on it, but solid enough that he couldn’t return to the flat position he had been laying in, which forced him to keep his rump up as if he were presenting it.

Scylla on the other hand felt her pussy becoming much like her ass had, with her suddenly becoming very aware of what was going on in her vaginal passage, and what was going on was a steady flowing of liquids from her depths. She didn’t need help from the injection to know she was getting wet down there though, as she had been that way for a while now. Ever since the stags made her orgasm, her juices hadn’t stopped, and she wasn’t sure why. Her body was feeling unbearably hot, and her heart was beating so rapidly that she could feel it pounding. It felt like she was in heat, though a worse onset of it than she had ever felt before.

All she really knew was that the stuff that had been injected into her wasn’t helping things one bit. With it, she could feel every droplet seeping from her pussy, detecting the very path it was being traveled with detail she never could before. If she closed her eyes she could envision it, like it was a stream of calmly running water in the picture she formed in her mind.

“What did you do to us?” Path asked as all the deer removed themselves from the two ponies, and moved a small distance away.

“I injected you both with a few chemical cocktails made to enhance your bodies’ ability to feel and adapt to what is about to come. Lady Tourmaline said the shot was required for the kelpie, but since you wished to share her experiences…”

“I get it,” Path said as he squirmed about, understanding well that he had brought this on himself, “But what is this it doing to us?”

“Increasing the sensitivity of your nerves, dulling pain receptors while enhancing pleasure receptors, making your holes… um… stretchy.”

No longer covered in does, Pathfinder turned onto his back to look at Xenia face to face. “What do you mean stre-” he said mid turn, stopping when he caught sight of something other than an empty needle the deer woman had in her hands. She held in her grasp two rather large hoses, each with an odd nozzle at the end of it. Leaning over to his side to peer over the edge of the massage table he was atop of, Pathfinder followed his namesake and trailed the hose back to its source, happening upon a strange machine at the end.

The machine had been pulled over on a set of wheels on the bottom it, apparently having been brought over in silence as the other deer did their tasks. The device itself looked to be in the shape of a cupcake, fat and cylindrical at the bottom with a domed top. On the sides of the device was a number of switches, gauges, crystals, and three hose looking contraptions, all leading away from the device, but with path only really able to see where the one closest to the side of the table he was on ended up. Out of the dome of the device stuck out several glass containers, each containing a strange greenish blue goop inside.

“What are you doing with that?” Pathfinder asked, afraid of the answer he would be receiving.

“This?” Xenia replied, licking the nozzle of the hose, “I’m going to stick it in your ass.”

Those eight words shot terror though Pathfinder’s being. He was never a fan of anal, or the idea of something going into that hole instead of going out. That was all he had to hear to begin to panic, and lose any want to comply with this treatment.

He tried to roll off the table, but the moment he attempted it the deer were back upon him. Not the does this time, but the stags. They used their combined strength to hold him down, to position him back on the structure, long enough to place a leather binding strap around his waist that pinned the pegasus back down to the table, but it didn’t stop there. The group of bucks forced his appendages into odd positions, starting with his legs by making them go backwards so his ankles were placed near his head. His arms were then sent downwards, between his thighs, so his wrists rested on either side of his balls and his erect dick stuck out between his forearms.

Now in the spots the deer wanted them to be, the does came back to take up the shackles attached to the table. One by one, they attached the cuffs at the end of the chains to the opposite appendages they were supposedly made for, the ones near the front of the table snapping onto Pathfinder’s ankles, while the ones at the foot were locked around his wrists. This trapped him into the pose the stags had placed him in, his body forming an awkward ‘X’ with his four limbs, and his butt resting atop the firm pillow that his tail draped over, and his ass was pointing upwards at an angle.

“Again, I do apologize, but this must be done.” Xenia said, gripping one of Path’s ass cheeks, using it to spread the entrance to the stallion’s ass open as she slowly and precisely brought the hose towards it.

“N-no, stop! Don’t!” Pathfinder screamed, in pure fear of his rump being penetrated. He shook and squirmed, flailed and flapped, but all it did was make Xenia’s target all the more enticing.

She couldn’t help but stick her tongue out the side of her mouth, running across her lips as she savored the flavor of this moment. There was something special about poking the supple rump of a pretty boy stallion, and Path was fairly cute for a stallion his age. If Xenia were to hazard a guess to this pony’s fate in The Society, then he was in for some training as a twink. Quite a few male members of the organization liked having guys like Path as their pleasure slaves, and dressing them up as girls to add to the humiliation of being forced into the role. Same went for the mares of The Society, who sometimes took a fancy to having around a ‘girl’ that was more than she seemed, or enjoyed making her male slaves fuck one another. Whatever Path’s role was to be though, it didn’t matter here. Be he trained as a twink or not, he was getting the hose up his ass.

With a press of the device against the soft, circular entrance to his rectum, Xenia started wiggling it into its destination. Though Path fought and clenched as tightly as he could, the chemicals she had shot into the pegasus earlier helped her when getting inside, as they allowed the flesh hole to stretch out, which reduced the resistance the passage gave her when she pushed.

Little by little, the metal end of the hose worked its way inside, eventually slipping in as it finally bypassed the barrier separating Path’s insides from the outside world. Pathfinder vocally bemoaned the deer woman’s accomplishment, letting out actual tears as he felt his O-ring contract around the plastic cylinder that had snaked its way past his defenses. He wanted to grab hold of the hose to remove it, but his hands were bound so they were just out of reach.

As all of this unfolded, it had been observed by Scylla, who had become even more terrified from the… she wanted to say brutality of it all, but that seemed a bit much. Except for causing discomfort to her father by shoving something up his flank, the deer didn’t exactly hurt him. Still, it was scary to see the pony she always believed would protect her treated thusly. It was all the more incentive to not try her own escape attempt, as if they could do that to Pathfinder, she believed she would stand little chance herself.

That, and she couldn’t help but feel as if she couldn’t move from the spot she was on, even if she wanted to. With the presence of the ever increasing horniness she felt, which still persisted as she watched her father be violated, she felt rather weak. She could move, but not in the manner she usually could. The slightest movement would be exhausting, and her reactions were slowed. It was as if all her energy was being poured into her sexual processes.

Because of this, she offered no resistance when Xenia lifted her tail, and slid the second hose into her own pert little butt. She did release a loud gasp though, as the feeling was not nearly as painful as she thought it would be. There was a bit of a pinching sensation, but that was just because her ass was being stretched out a bit too far. Otherwise, the insertion felt… well not good, but not especially painful. The best way to describe it was that it felt weird.

“There we go,” Xenia said with a pat of Scylla’s butt, “You took that very well.”

“T-thank you…” Scylla said in fear of what might happen if she said otherwise,

“And so polite too. You’re father must have done a wonderful job raising you.”

“Rrrrrr… Shut the fuck up you bitch!” Path yelled, not quite over being anally violated.

Xenia crossed her arms at the stallion, “Hmmm…. Perhaps not.” As quickly as she crossed her arms together, she uncrossed them after commenting on Path’s behavior so she could clasp her hands together in elation. “But no need to dwell on that. We need to finish up your preparations.”

The deer woman bent down to the floor, slipping beyond Pathfinder’s sight for a split second before reappearing with a rod in her hand. Not just a normal rod though. This was a very phallic rod made of what looked to be… glass? No, it was a crystal of some sort, with any and all sharp sides sanded away till all that was left was a smooth cylinder of transparent, topped off with a rounded bulb. There was little misunderstanding of what this was. It was a dildo made of pure gemstone.

The material it was made of made the object an eccentric sex toy, to say the least, but there was more to it than that. Attached to the bottom of the crystal was a hose like the one Path saw before on the machine, connected by a metal piece that cupped the bottom of the cylinder. Maybe it wasn’t a hose though, but instead a wire of sorts, as it looked smaller in diameter than the tubes residing inside him and Scylla. Perhaps the purpose of it was just to make sure the dildo didn’t get lost, but that seemed too mundane of a function for something so elaborately crafted.

Pathfinder watched Xenia give the crystal a once over, and rub it against her fur a few times to polish it up. “Ok, here we go.” She announced, “Try to relax, this should only take a few minutes.”

“What will take a few minutes?!” Path said, incapable of following the deer’s instructions. Not when the possibility of further anal invasion was in his immediate future.

Xenia did not answer though, not seeing the need to do so when showing him would be much more enlightening, and ‘enlightening’ was an ept way of describing what happened next.

With the object in hand, Xenai re-positioned it between her slender thighs, aiming the bulb of it directly were one would expect a woman to point a phallic piece of polished petalite. Aimed at her lower lips, she took a few short breaths to brace for the imminent insertion of the crystal, before shoving it partially inside of herself with little caution. What happen next both surprised and amazed the pegasus, who had locked his eyes on her form while awaiting what she would do, as when the object went in, the deer began to literally glow.

Many blueish, lines of illumination spontaneously appeared all over her body, crossing and interweaving with one another to form an intricate pattern, like a strange tribal tattoo. Whatever this glow was though, it was not contained to her form, and from his pinned position Path could see the section of the crystal poking out of her go from transparent, to filled with a more concentrated form of the light covering the doe. It didn’t stop there either, as once the light in the crystal reached a certain intensity, the glow began to flow into the cord attached to it, traveling it down two lanes that spiraled down the cord,

The glow continued like this until it reached all the way back to the device, wherein it spread across it in a similar pattern as that covering Xenia. This brought it to life, causing it to quiver and whir loudly. By itself, that was enough to scare Pathfinder into a cold sweat, but then he felt some activity happening from inside his rectum.

Scylla showed signs of feeling this as well, looking back at her butt the best she could, and reaching her hand towards it before being grabbed by Xenia. “Don’t fidget,” The deer said gently, “Just let it do its work.”

“But it’s…. Grrrooowwwiinnnggg.” Scylla whined, not at all enjoying what was happening inside her.

She wasn’t mistaken either by what was going on, as a part of the nozzles inside the ponies were inflating. A circular tubing wrapped around the base of the hose ends that blew up like a balloon, increasing its size to an extent that felt like it far surpassed the limits of the intestines they were wedging themselves into. Path and Scylla winced and groaned as their insides were forced to make room, until finally the object ceased, and allowed them a moment to relax and adapt.

Of course, Path couldn’t truly relax, as his ass now had within it the largest thing it ever held. The size alone was enough to let loose a string of bemoaned sounds filled with agony, with his tailhole feeling like it had been stuffed with a baseball, but what he dreaded more was what was to come. This could not be the end of it, that he was sure of.

How he loathed being right in this case too, as after a solid minute passed, the machine started whirring again, and a warm sensation was noticed as it filled up his flesh tunnel. “Wha- What are you doing to -uugghh!” Path tried to speak, but the feeling inside him was overwhelming his ability to focus on anything else, even the ability to complete a line of thought.

The hose, stuffed in as it was, were shooting some sort of gunky slime into him so hard that it splashed against his insides in a viscous ‘splat’ that he swore he could hear through his body. If having to feel this within his guts wasn’t enough to completely disgust him, he also had a unobstructed view of the process in action, as the hose going into Scylla spasmed and pulsed in ways that made it look as if the tubing were alive.

“What you have pouring in you,” Xenia said while watching the vials of greenish blue goo slowly ooze down into the machine, “Is a substance I invented a few years after being enslaved.”

“Years?!” Pathfinder grunted out, not expecting this organization of slavers to have been around so long. If they were a newer group, the odds of them being caught was likely, but if they could stay out of the eye of the royal guard for years, then that didn’t bode well for him and Scylla.

Xenia ignored the pegasus’ shocked declaration though, and continued with what she was saying. “I call it ‘Decomposition Gel’, and it has some very interesting properties. To explain it in detail, it takes nonliving, organic matter and causes it to break down rapidly into gas. It then absorbs said gas, in order to leave your insides nice and clean. I’ve even got it to leave behind a refreshing, minty fragrance. I guarantee that you’ve never had a cleaner flankhole.”

“That… Sounds really… Dangerous…” Path struggled to say, feeling an ever building pressure inside him, the semi-solid fluid pouring more and more inside his innards, filling up to capacity and beyond.

“Not at all. You could take a bath in the stuff and all it would do is remove your hair and any calluses you had, If you had any necrotic flesh inside you, there might be a small problem, but you’d be better off having that removed anyways.”

The deer’s explanations of how safe the gel was gave the stallion little comfort as he reached his assumed limits. Clenching with all his might in vain attempt to push some of the substance out, he found it impossible with the nozzle inflated as it was. It took little time for his intestines to swell up from how full they had become, and shortly after that his stomach started to bloat outwards. He felt like he was going to burst, but for some reason his anal tunnel was stretching out more than he could have imagined.

Scylla, suffering from the same condition, had to bring herself to all fours so not the have her expanding belly press against the table they were atop of, making heavy pants for air from the pain the pressure was causing. With her lower abdomen poking out a little, it gave the appearance that she was slightly pregnant, as if she was just starting to show. A welling of tears in her eyes made it evident to Path that she was not taking this as well as he was, and it made him hope even more that this ended soon, for both their sake.

As if answering his wish, the machine did finally stop, the whirring silencing as the device ran out of gel. Again, the two ponies were given a brief time to adjust to their newly acquired discomfort. Pathfinder never felt so full down there, and as he laid in his oddly angled bondage, he could feel the gel doing… whatever it was it did to the daisy and carrot salad he ate for lunch yesterday. As the remainder of that dissolve into nothingness, it didn’t make the pegasus feel as if any more room had been made in him though.

“Good, good, the process will only take ten to twenty minutes to complete, then we can empty you out and send you on your way.” Xenia said, still covered in her glowing lines and symbols.

“T-this.. Really hurts miss…” Scylla said weakly, everything that had happened to her taking its toll.

“Well then, I can do something to take your mind off it if you’d like.”

“Yes… please…” Scylla replied.

Pathfinder instantly knew that was a mistake, but could say nothing before the doe shot her hand forward, taking hold of Scylla’s labia within her fingers. “Then just relax, and I’ll grant you a delightful orgasm.”

“H-hey…” Path tried to interject in protest, still finding it difficult to say anything.

“Don’t worry, I remember your request.” Xenia replied, snatching up Path’s cock in her other hand. It was still hard and rigid, not having settled at all since it was sucked on by one of the other does. The flesh that made the outer layer around the meat rod though had become soft and malleable however, like puddy in the palms of this deer.

Xenia pressed down her thumb on Path’s urethra, while pushing apart Scylla’s pussy lips, ready to show off one of her talents. She motioned the hand wrapped around Pathfinder’s shaft up and down, stroking it at a steady pace, paying special attention in stimulating his swollen jizz passage. At the same time, she stuck the middle and ring finger of her other hand into Scylla’s wet pussy, keeping it spread with her pointer and pinkie. In a display of ambidexterity, she moved both her hands to masturbate the two ponies, jerking off the stallion and fingering the mare simultaneously.

Pathfinder tried to resist. Tried to struggle against the deer, but every motion disturbed the gel inside his bowels, reducing his struggles to nothing more than shudders and groans brought on by pain. Helpless as he was, he could do little more than lay back and let biology take its course. In his mind, he could say he hated this, but the wants of flesh would always conquer that mind. Soon he would be brought to climax, and it would be undeniably pleasurable. Pleasurable, however, did not necessarily mean enjoyable.

“Ugh… Uhh… AAHHHH!!” Path let loose a final string of grunts, and released a blast of sperm from his dick onto his stomach. The white gunk pooled in his fur, sticking to everything it splattered against. Having cum on his belly wasn’t a completely unfamiliar feeling for Path, having masturbated plenty of times, and often in the afterglow he let his semen rest on his body and seep into his fur. This time though, it felt off.

It was like his cum was… thicker, more viscous, and much more in quantity. Most solid than liquid, causing a string of the substance to lead from the white blob on him back to his dick hole. He could even feel the string go down his urethra, and if it were flicked, he would feel it go all the way to his balls. It had to have something to do with the injection the deer gave him, as that was not something the pegasus would consider normal.

“AAAAaaAAaaaAAAA!!!” And as if to keep her promise to have the two feel the same things, the deer made Scylla cum shortly after Path. Scylla let it be known throughout the spa area that she had came, and following her father’s example she let loose a torrent of sexual fluids. It was the second time in less than an hour that she gushed this way, and it and the gel enema was taking their toll on her stamina. Exhausted, she fell forward, resting on her face and chest so not to cause more pressure on her guts, leaving her rump stuck up in the air.

The deer, amused by the physical satisfaction of these two, brought her hand now soaked in feminine fluids to her lips, and tasted of the aquatic mare’s fluids. She licked her digits thoroughly, lapping up as much as she could, turning her attention to the pegasus once finished.

Going to his side, the deer span a finger around the sperm thread connecting the splattering on Path’s stomach to his penis, snapping it off from both while wrapping it around the digit. Not wasting a second after this, Xenia shot the cum covered finger into her mouth, slurping on the semen as if it were a sucker. The moans of delight she make told of the pleasure she was feeling, and made Path start to question how against her enslavement the deer truly was.

Xenia popped the finger out of her mouth, saying “Not bad” in reference to the pegasus’ taste.

The chemicals she had injected into his dick had reached to his testicles, and cause them to churn out a rather large quantity of sperm, as well as caused the substance to become thick and gelatinous, as if he had been storing it for some time. The result was fairly amusing, but the science behind it wasn’t so much, as what was really happening was that his balls were producing semen at such a high rate that the sexual organs weren’t getting enough water to them. The sperm soup it created was something the members enjoyed seeing plastered over the bodies of the slaves, or slathered across their sheets after an intense, passionate session of rape.

Xenia knew that this form of dehydration was not healthy if done too often, but every once in a while couldn’t hurt. Besides, seeing the way a cock spasmed when shooting out that gunk, and how the testicles went into overtime to fill their flesh housing after just being emptied more than made up for it. Even after just having came, the pegasus’ sack was a plump ball of of cum ready to burst in a shower of satisfaction, and all it would take to set it off would be something as simple as patting it a bit too hard with her hands. She knew this because she had done it many times before, to the men of her race during their time being tamed and trained… and to stallions going through the same process. The processes of biology were simply astounding, and likewise undefiable.

“That should be enough.” Xenia said, allowing her magic to die down. Her glow dampened, her tattoos faded, and with them dissipating the large bulbs deflated.

Knowing what would happen, the other deer who had stood aside till now rushed over, readied with buckets and rags in hand. The positioned themselves around the ponies, unbinding Pathfinder and bringing his bottom half to the edge of the table, as they prepared for what was to come next. At first it happened slowly, the gel coming out of the mare and the stallion in small squirts, as much as could slip through the nearly created void between the hose nozzle and the inner walls of the ponies, but eventually the hose itself was forced from the ponies’ rectums, followed by a torrent of the blue-green substance.

The deer did everything they could to help with this ordeal, keeping the decomposition gel from spilling everywhere and making a mess, using the rags to clean up any excess gel that threatened to touch fur, and keeping the holes open to allow longer periods of evacuation, which greatly decreased the time needed to deflate them both. As Xenia had explained though, nothing but the gel exited the ponies bodies, all other biodegradable material held within having been completely disintegrated by the substance, leaving behind only the goo and a minty scent.

As path and Scylla endured this final part of their processing, Xenia removed the crystal dildo from within her, placing it gently on the floor, and begun stepping around the table. “You both did very well for a first time.” she said, truly impressed that they didn’t scream once, and stopping in front of Scylla, she added “Especially you.”

Usually only her kind were that resilient to this sort of treatment that they could endure the pressure with more than a groan, at least on a first experience, and that was after a long series of ‘adjustments’ done to them. She started making hypothesis’ on how the kelpie’s anatomy might have helped with this. The pegasus on the other hand, she could only attribute will power or prior experience to. Either way, she really wanted to experiment with these two more in the future, to test her theories… and how far this endurance went.

The curiosity led into infatuation, and as if compelled to do so, the deer woman took Scylla’s head in her hands. Bending over, she planted a kiss on the mare’s lips, pleased to find they had a similar rubbery feel like the rest of the kelpie’s body. She wanted to explore further, and so she did, forcing her tongue into the mouth of the other female, searching every crevice with it.

Scylla, feeling too tired from all that had happened to her to fight back, let it happen. It was the first time she was ever kissed by another girl so thoroughly, as just like her father Scylla was strongly cemented in the fact that she was straight, but she found this no more scary or upsetting than anything else before it. It was a good thing that she hadn’t paid as much attention to her father as he did her though, else she might have been able to tell that the strange flavor on the doe’s tongue was actually the remnants of his semen, transferred to her taste buds through tongue to tongue contact.

“Having fun there slave?”

Xenia jumped a bit as these loud, gruff words sounded in her direction, recognizing instantly that she was the one being referred to, despite her name not being said. She broke the kiss off so fast that a small bit of spittle flew out into the air between them, and stood up straight with her arms down her side, tits jutting out from her white coat as if being presented.

The ground trembled lightly as two minotaur approached, two who were not the same ones as the ones that delivered Pathfinder and Scylla to the spa room. One sporting a sizable pot belly, while the other one looked to have a chipped left horn. Neither of them looked any less mean than the previous pair though.

This was something they quickly proved too, as when Xenia tried to greet them, arms spread out and bending one leg like she did before, they didn’t care in the least that she was showing her respects. Before she even finished, the pot bellied one snatched her up by the waist, his massive hand able to wrap three-fourths the way around her, while his muscular arm was capable of lifting her light frame up with ease. The doe could hardly let out a yelp before she was tossed unceremoniously between Path and Scylla, body face down on the table with her legs dangling over the side.

“Masters, please, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting!” Xenia pleaded as the other deer huddled up together, quivering in the presence of the new minotaur. “I was just about to fin-AAAHHHHSSSHHH!!!”

The doe’s howl was very much warranted, as while she was busy coming up with excuses, the minotaur with the rounded belly was busy undoing a button on his pants. Undoing it opened up a flap in front, and released his cock, which was monstrous in comparison to an average stallions, and would even dwarf that of a well endowed one. By the end of her second sentence, he hard gotten it hard and was already pushing the head of his cock into Xenia’s pussy.

Despite her small body, the doe was able to take the bull’s fence post of a dick inside her with relative ease. She was moaning her head off, only taking breaths to further extend the audible expression of dismay. The minotaur had to pull her into his shaft as he pushed, but it managed to get itself inside far past what one would think. By the time her limit was reached, only a fraction of his rod was left exposed for Scylla and Pathfinder, whos’ heads were rather close to the action, to see.

“Must I remind you who you belong to?” the minotaur asked, resting himself inside the doe.

“Master… PLEASE! You’re… in… my… wooommmbbbb!” Xenia yelled, the bulged in her stomach proving her claim as accurate.

“Of course I am,” the minotaur scoffed, pulling himself out just enough to exit the body cavity, only to slam himself back in with amazing force. Despite having the weight of two ponies and a deer a top it, the massage table was pushed forward by the thrust. “What short shafted minotaur have you been fucking lately that you let that cervix of yours get so tight. Not that I don’t like that inner ring of yours wrapped around me like an elastic band.”

Scylla, becoming quickly freaked out by this brutal fucking, turned her head away in fright. Pathfinder on the other hand, couldn’t take his eyes off Xenia’s face. Her tongue hung out of her gaping mouth, resting limply on her slacked jaw, with the pupils and irises of her eyes doing their best to retreat inside the deer’s skull. She was clearly in pain, groans escaping her lungs with each thrust the minotaur made, her face looking to be devoid of thought save for the sensations she was being forced to feel. Oddly enough though, this was causing her to start glowing again, with her tattoos at full brightness. The doe must have just been reflexively responding to her agony though, or so Pathfinder assumed since she was being raped right in front of him.

The minotaur took great satisfaction as he smashed her hole again and again, but before he could reach climax, the bull slid out of his cervid victim. As his dick came out, so to did a large amount of the doe’s fluids, as her body had reached a painfully forced orgasm several times in the short span of her sexual assault. The bovine’s penis was covered in the substance, it clinging to his flesh and the hair that covered his foreskin, but a decent amount simply spilled out onto the floor. Immediately after the sexual liquids made contact to the ground, Xenia followed in suit, mentally decimated and no longer supported by her rapist’s grip. Without the ability to stop herself, she fell right into a puddle of her own disgusting juices, twitching, barely aware of the world around her.

“All of you,” said the other minotaur, snapping a whip he held at floor in front of the other deer, “Clean up this mess and get back to work.” The deer scattered at his command, scurrying to Xenia to remove her from their masters’ sight, and sanitize the mess their superior had made.

“Stupid sluts, the lot of them.” said the fat minotaur to his associate, not caring if any of the deer heard his opinion of them. “If they weren’t such good cock slaves and power batteries, there would be no reason to have brought them here.”

“Then I suppose you want to be the one who cleans these new arrivals?” The horn damaged minotaur replied, happy to not have to do such a boring task. The deer had much more utility that his partner wished to grant them, but he agreed that they were still perhaps the most lowly of creatures under their command, trained too well and far too understanding of their where they stood as slaves to ever try to resist or escape.

“What’s so hard about it? Just grab a bucket of water and splash it over the slave’s body. That’s what we use to do with them, before they started making all these unnecessary contraptions.” The fat minotaur, displaying some spite towards the deer’s odd technology, kicked the gel pump away from the table, its wheels taking the device far away, as he made his way to something that caught his eye. Placing his dominant hand down on Scylla’s spine to pin her in place, the fat minotaur grabbed her tail with his other hand and lifted it up high. “How long does it take to clean a fish anyways?”

Scylla’s heart raced, as the minotaur’s presence on her body filled her with all sorts of dark thoughts. She had just witnessed him rape Xenia with no hesitation or restraint, and with the power she felt in just his grip, she could tell he could easily do the same to her.

“N-No! D-Dont!” she yelled, hoping that the plea would be enough to stop the male from violating her body any further than it already had been that day.

“Don’t be shy, I can tell that you want to take about twenty pounds of beef into your eager cunt.” the fat minotaur said, taunting Scylla with said twenty pounds as he rubbed it between the two cheeks of her ass.

“No! No! No! No! NO!” she screamed in response. She could feel the juices of the doe he had just impaled with his giant girth mere moments before rubbing off on her skin, and feared that her own fluids would soon be slathered over it as well.

“No?” the minotaur questioned mockingly, “But your pussy is dripping like a busted shower head.” He laughed at his own analogy as he pulled the kelpie far enough back that her legs dangled over the side of the table, replicating the pose Xenia was forced into before being fucked. “You can’t tell me that this isn’t turning you on.”

Scylla could tell that the minotaur was being honest about the state of her crotch, as she could feel the ever growing dampness it was achieving. Worse though, it was much wetter than it had been when the stags were teasing her, and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why. There was no way she was actually getting turned on by all this. She wasn’t some sexual deviant who would enjoy being raped, even if she had read a few dark romances exploring the subject. Yet here she was, wetter than she had ever been, nipples stiff and body temperature rising like she were in heat. What in Equestria was coming over her?

“Well, whether you admit it or not doesn’t matter to me.” added the minotaur, “I’m still going to stick myself inside you.”

“The fuck you will!” Pathfinder shouted, lifting his body up as quickly as it would allow him. He was sore and still a bit tired from the tranquilizers that were not quite out of his system yet, but he couldn’t sit idly by while this bull had his way. With the girth of his cock, there was no way he was going to fit inside Scylla without tearing something, causing more harm than Pathfinder would allow. That was if he could even fit inside to begin with, but seeing what he did to the petite doe, Pathfinder had no reason to assume he wouldn’t try to make it happen.

Unfortunately for Pathfinder, the second he hopped off the table and his hooves touched the floor was the same second they left it. While he was focused on the minotaur threatening to push his clublike cock inside his daughter, the other one was focused on him, ready to catch the pegasus if he tried anything. A quick swipe was all it took, and Path found his upper torso contained within the coil of the bull’s biceps.

Pathfinder honestly didn’t care though. He and Scylla had been made to do so much in the short time since their arrival to this place, including things he had never ever wanted to do in his life, and he was fairly pissed. He was glad that the minotaur that held him had scoped him up so that he only had his arm wrapped around his chest, leaving his own arms free to move around as he wished. The same was of course likewise true for his legs, and so the pony used all six of his appendages, wings included, to flail around in the arms of his captors, pounding, kicking, and flapping as much as he possibly could.

This was met with mild annoyance from the minotaur. Ponies were rather weak creatures, with their punches and kicks being akin to finger flicks to the bovines. A small selection of Earth Ponies could pose a mild threat, but in most cases a bovine’s physical prowess proved too great to overcome, with even the most under exercise and flabby of the lot being a mountain of muscles covered by a layer of fat. A pegasus like the one he was holding could never hope to do more than irritate him, but the pony didn’t stop trying despite his attacks clearly doing nothing. That kind of tenacity in the face of an undefeatable foe was at least respectable, if foolish, and worthy of the minotaur’s attention… and arousal. With an desire starting to build in his loins, he dropped his whip, and went for the button on his pants.

As Pathfinder kept attacking whatever parts of the minotaur he could get to, he slowly started to feel something press up against his back. Assuming that it was just the hulking creature putting more effort into holding him down, the stallion just continued with his ineffectual assault, up until he heard an ominous unbuttoning come from behind. Next thing he knew, an enormous dick much like the one threatening to spear Scylla’s holes shot up from between his legs, sliding against his own balls and cock, and arching back slightly to press its head into his belly button. If one were to look at this scene, it would appear that Path was saddled atop the pillar of a penis, creating the silly image of him riding the minotaur meat.

“You’re a fighter,” the minotaur said, lowering his free hand onto the shocked stallions head, clasping his skull into his palm, “And as a warrior myself, I can appreciate your bravery. Conquering your ass will be a worthy notch on my belt.”

Pathfinder didn’t exactly understand what the minotaur was saying, but the easiest translation he came up with as the bull forced him by his head over the table, in a pose that matched Scylla’s, was “I’m gonna fuck you”. How quickly he discovered he was woefully right, as the minotaur stood behind him, and rubbed his fully erect bull cock against the stallions small and vulnerable hole.

Like his kelpie daughter, when caught in this incredibly compromising position, he found there was little to do but struggle and scream. “No! You can’t! YOU CAN’T!” It was his worst nightmare made manifest. To be raped by another male, and one so well endowed that the thickness of his shaft rivaled the mass of his own arm. There was no way it could really fit in. He could push and press all day, and never get even the smallest bit of the bulbous cock head inside. At least that is what he hoped and prayed was true, lest he suffered the horror of being anally violated.

“The deer did give them the elasticity injections, right?” The fat minotaur said, more than ready to enter the female that was at his mercy.

“This one certainly got an engorgement shot.” The other minotaur said, reaching down to pinch Path’s taint, focusing on the thick mass of dick bulging out from beneath the flesh. “His urethra is so big, I could use it as a handle and pick him up by it.

“Good, then I’m going in.” replied the fat minotaur, giving no delay in trying to make good on his declaration. With a grip on Scylla’s hips with one hand, he guided himself to her tail hole with the other.

Scylla’s eyes narrowed as she felt the minotaur push up against her rump, squeezing up into her cheeks the best he could with his mass, and to her surprise, her hole was making room for it to enter. Little by little, the circular entrance parted outwards, spreading further and further, inviting its forceful intruder inside. She thought this was impossible, no, she knew this was impossible, and yet against all logic it was happening, and doing so in a very painful manner. She could feel the hole being pulled apart more than it ever had before by far, centimeter by agonizing centimeter, making way for the bull. Tears poured from her eyes in streams, and she clawed at the padding beneath her as her world turned to torment. When she finally thought she could take no more, that something had to give in this exchange, and that that something would be her O-ring, she finally felt the bulls head pop all the way in, and once inside the rest of the shaft just followed.

With incredible force, the bull slammed himself into the mare’s anus, her intestines expanding to make room for him, while what was left of the green gel in her erupted out in a small explosion from between the nearly non-existent space separating the two creature’s flesh.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” the fat minotaur said over Scylla’s despair filled moan, being splash by the substance, “They used Decomp Gel on these two.”

“So?” The other minotaur replied, “You afraid of you’re hairy dick getting shaved?”

“It took me so long to grown it back the last time.” The fat one answered.

“Suck it up. You’re getting to test a soon to be broodmare. You have no right to complain.”

Having said that, the minotaur holding down Pathfinder began his own journey into the bowels of his captive. Just as with Scylla, there was little the pegasus could do as the dick at his back passage delved inside, save for squeaking out nearly silent sounds of trauma as his ass experienced its first sexual penetration. Unlike the fat minotaur, this one felt like intentionally drawing out this traumatizing event, going as slow as he possibly could as he made his way inside.

Pathfinder wiggled his rump side to side in attempt to reverse the progress that was made, but all that seemed to achieve was getting it in all the faster as his hole slid further around his cockhead. In a matter of seconds that felt like several excruciating minutes for Path, the minotaur had made his way inside, and was slowly bringing the stallion’s stretched out sphincter to his dick’s hilt. The deeper the dick got inside of the pegasus, the less he struggled against it, as every movement sparked a series of feelings and sensations that he didn’t want to experience, not necessarily because they were all bad, but because some felt irrefutably good.

The rod travelling through Pathfinder’s rectum was grinding up against and pushing out of its way anything that was in its path, and one of these things was his prostate. The normally untouchable sexual organ was experiencing a full on contact that was both agonizing and pleasurable, mixing into cocktail of pain and pleasure that came from his rear end being rammed. Not just that though, but the stallion could feel the cock in him press against the inner part of his spine, which somehow caused the sensations he felt to double up in confusion of all these normally impossible to reach nerves being triggered to life.

The more this went on, and the more bends in intestines that were forced to wrap around and constrict the minotaur’s penis, the more faculties of thought Pathfinder seemed to lose. His voice quieted till all that came out were whimpers and heavy breaths, his tongue slipped out of his muzzle as if being pushed out the more the dick was pushed in, and his thoughts were blanked out almost completely, save for the small voice in his head telling him that he should hate this despite all the pleasant sensations this was causing in him. Where his mind said “no”, his body said “yes”, and unbeknownst to his barely conscience mind, his own cock was in the midst of spurting out shots of thick, white cum, forced into a consecutive stream of orgasms caused by the overload of emotions, sensations, a severe chemical imbalance throughout the entirety of his reproductive systems.

Finally, the minotaur’s hips made contact with the pegasus’ ass cheeks, and with it as far into the stallion as it could go, Pathfinder slumped his head down in defeat, though his wings were spread out in the most triumphant wing boner he could make. The stallion’s will was no match for simple biology, thus for now he would have to relent to it.

“Not bad,” the minotaur said to his partner, knowing that anything said to the pegasus would fall on deaf ears, “He didn’t pass out till the very end.”

“Need to give his faggot ass some awareness enhancing drugs next time,” the fat minotaur said, casually thrusting his dick in and out of Scylla’s hole, the kelpie by this point reduced to little more than gasps and sobs as she got fucked anally by the beast behind her, “Keep him awake so he can feel how much he really likes that thick shaft inside him.”

“He’s twink material for sure,” the minotaur inside Path said, taking the stallion’s mane in hand so he could lift up the pony’s head by it, revealing that the intensity of the sensations he had endured had caused a bit of drool to dribble down his muzzle, “Despite his complaints, he’s in bliss.”

“I think he’d look good in a dress.” commented the fat minotaur.

“I think he looks good naked.” the other joked, slapping Pathfinder on his flank hard, which elicited a deep, almost primal moan to be let loose from the depths of his throat, and made his violated anal cavity constrict around the minotaur, as if trying to crush it, though clearly unable to do such a task. “We’ll just have to see what the Crystal mare has in store for him.”

“Speaking of…” the fat minotaur said reaching for a pocket watch attached to his belt that was the size of a standard wall clock, “It’s about time for this slave to get her master.”

“Hoping to get her yourself?” the other minotaur asked, pulling himself out of Pathfinder as slowly as he entered.

“That’s assuming I’ll even be picked to begin with,” said the fat one, giving Scylla a few more extra powerful thrusts before removing his cock from her ass. “But I wouldn’t mind having this exotic piece of pony meat at the end of my leash.”

Scylla, having endured this trial much better than her father, listened to the two minotaur exchange words, and she didn’t like what she was hearing. She didn’t want to be this minotaur’s slave. She didn’t want to be a slave at all, but if she had to be than she would rather it be by something like a pony. Something that wouldn’t push her body past its limits by fucking her with a penis that was clearly not meant to be inside a creature so small in comparison. She expected her hole to never recover from such a brutal penetration, yet to her surprise, the moment that the bull removed his shaft from her bowels, the tunnels of her intestines and the hole that was her O-ring tightened back up near instantly and returned to normal size. The same also happened with Pathfinder, though Scylla was unaware of that herself.

Scylla, relieved that she wasn’t ruined by the minotaur, and that he had removed himself from her person, wasn’t given time to relax though. The minotaur was back upon her within seconds, grabbing her by the neck and pulling her to her hooves.

“Now that you know what I can do to you,” the minotaur said in a tone of command, “I think it’s safe to say you won’t try to disobey me. Is that right?”

Scylla found it difficult to stand after the emotional and physical punishment she recieved, wobbling from side to side as she tried to keep her footing, and felt it just as difficult to verbally respond to the minotaur. Still, she managed to muster the strength for a hasty nod, as she didn’t want to risk further punishment from the bovine.

“Good, then come with me.” Keeping his hold on Scylla’s neck, the fat minotaur walked her away from the table, towards a door at the far end of the room.

Scylla quickly recognized though that moving away from the table meant that she was being taken away from Pathfinder as well, and while she didn’t resist physically, she yelled out “Dad!” in hopes that the pegasus would hear it.

“Don’t you worry about him,” The minotaur said ushering Scylla out of the room, “He’s gonna get rested and cleaned up, and you’ll see him later.”

“B-but…”

The minotaur slammed the door loudly behind the both of them, not giving Scylla any chance to protest further, leaving Path behind in the care of his associate. It would take some time for the two ponies to see each other again, as the Society had a policy of keeping slaves familiar with one another apart during training. Until that time, they would just have to hope for each other’s safety, and endure what ordeals there was yet to come.

Elementary Introduction

Author's Notes:

Hey there everyone, Schorl here. It's been a while, but here is a new chapter for you all to enjoy. Be forewarned though, this chapter is a bit of an introduction to this story's cast of main characters, thus is focused on giving a general description to each of them, as well as beginning to present the real meat of what this story will be about. While the new characters are mostly donated OCs, I would hope they would be just as interesting as any other characters you might wish to see in their place. That said, I would understand to some degree if you wanted to skip a bunch of character introductions, thus why I left this warning.

Anyways, enjoy the chapter, and have a nice day!

Scylla stepped unevenly, guided down a hallway by her minotaur captor. They were heading to a door that would have taken a mere minute to reach under normal circumstances, but was taking twice as long in her current condition. The kelpie couldn’t help it. Her balance was being thrown off for a number of reasons: the drugs in her, the fact she hadn’t stood on her hooves since her arrival to the Society, and the ache in her ass for being stuffed full with her guide’s massive penis. She still couldn’t believe that her tight rump was able to swallow his bullhood as it had, but the soreness inside her made sure she understood that it had happened.

However, all those issues didn’t compare to the ever growing fire forming in her loins. Scylla had felt horny before, turned on by some random hunky stallion, or brought to arousal by a popular colt band, but never before had she felt an unbearable heat like this. Each step seemed as if it intensified the feeling, creating jolts of want that filled her saturated vaginal passage. While she had noticed this feeling before on the table, it was so small it was negligible. With her moving and getting her blood pumping thoroughly, the strength of this urge was un-ignorable.

All this made for a very complicated trek for the kelpie, causing her to stumble and flinch each time a spark of desire entered her brain. If not for the minotaur hand around her neck holding her up and pushing her forward, she would have fallen to the floor. Scylla didn’t find the pot bellied bovine all that helpful, as his manhandling not only aggravated the heat she felt inside, but at times his fingers would squeeze too tightly, making it hard for her to breath. Whether or not this was intentional, she could only assume, and seeing how this bull had treated her thus far, she wasn’t exactly willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“It’s a real shame…” said the minotaur, giving Scylla another push to keep her pace steady.

The kelpie believed that he wanted her to respond, but she remained silent, having nothing to say to the creature who had raped her. Sensing her stubbornness, the minotaur made her walk in front of him, and sent a solid smack to her rear.

As Scylla jumped forward from the sting of the spank, the minotaur proceeded to talk aloud. “To think that a cute mare like you will go to someone other than myself, it’s a real shame. If I were your master, I’d train your body to enjoy everything I did to you.” Pulling Scylla back to him, the fat minotaur pressed his snout into her mane, inhaling so powerfully that the mare could feel several strands of her mane getting sucked into his nostrils. “Haaah… Think of it, my teeth around your tits, forcing milk to shoot out as I bite down. The sting of straps from a flail licking across those soft folds between your legs. The burn of a brand upon that hairless ass of yours. There is sooo much I could do to you, so much I can make you love.”

Scylla’s mind froze with terror. The minotaur was talking about things beyond just sex and rape. What he was describing was torture, plain and simple. Even more, he was getting some sort of sexual thrill out of describing these acts to her. She had heard of such people before, those who took joy from hurting others, but never in reality. Only in works of fiction, in her erotic novels, had she ever seen this behavior. Men and women alike reveling in the act of sadism, like a rich mare forcing a young stallion into her servitude because of a father’s debt, or a pegasus guard interrogating a naked hippogryph spy in the dungeons of some fictional castle.

But as strangely arousing as such scenarios were in written word, and titillating she found it to picture herself at the mercy of a person who wanted to ravage her. when met face to face with a real sadist, Scylla felt nothing but fear and helplessness now that the once impossible fantasy became possible. The panic building inside her was enough to drown out everything else, including the fiery desire that had been building inside her.

Not that the minotaur was going to take her terror into any kind of consideration though. He had his own plans for her, or rather, someone else did. Odds were, he would have very little interaction with Scylla after they reached the end of the hallway. Such a lost opportunity was a terrible shame. However, things were not yet decided, and he could still hope that luck would would allow for he and this special mare to have a more intimate relationship.

The minotaur ended his short break, and moved forward again, his ward having to move with him so she wasn’t dragged along. The distance to their destination rapidly approached, the door coming within reach much faster than Scylla wanted. Then again, she was hoping that she would never have to go through that door, and see what awaited her inside. As the bull had said before, her soon to be master was in there, and there was no room in her mind to believe that her violation wouldn’t continue the moment she was handed off to him. All the want in the world wasn’t going to stop her from going through that door though, and the fat bull wasted no time opening it and ushering her into the next room the second his hand could touch the minotaur sized knob on the structure.

Once shoved past the door’s threshold, Scylla could see what laid behind it, and what it was destroyed any hope she had. She was now in a large circular room, one the size of a small auditorium, with the walls covered in rows of large, step shaped slabs of concrete that her far to big for a pony to scale without using their arms. These weren’t steps, but a set of stone benches, crafted specifically for one species in mind, which Scylla understood quickly seeing that that the seating arrangements were packed nearly to capacity by... them.

Minotaur, dozens of them. More than Scylla’s actively frightened mind cared to count, but there had to at least be a hundred of them, waiting, relaxing, talking to one another, some even looking in the direction of the kelpie. Scylla felt her knees buckle a little at this revelation, her ignited imagination not letting her think for a second that this were some mistake, or that she and her guide were just passing through some sort of minotaur break room. The set up was too grandiose for that, especially since there were a few other things in the room that gave the setting a sense of significance.

In the center of the room, sitting squarely in the middle of the stone steps within a circular clearing in this likewise rounded room, was a altar of some kind. The altar was mushroom shaped, slim at the bottom and big on the top. The top part had six metal rectangular slabs set atop its exterior at a diagonal angle, making the mushroom shape more apparent. Each of these slabs had on them a set of shackles that dangled down from the top, two leather straps bolted into the middle of the slabs, a third much larger strap right below and centered between those straps, and two large hand holds placed at the sides of metal rectangles welded into the inner area of the mushroom alter. As impressive as the altar was, it was not the only thing of note in the room, as behind it, right across from the door Scylla had entered from, was a wall made of some sort of black crystal, dividing the two halves of the chamber. Aside from being different from anything else in the room, it was a rather large structure that served no purpose other than decoration, but something about it felt ominous to Scylla. Something about that dark rock made the kelpie feel like she were being watched, like the stone itself was watching her.

As Scylla stood there, terrified and confused, a stag that had been standing by the door addressed the minotaur holding her. “Ah, Master Jupiter, You’ve arrived with the final element I see.” the stag said, giving the same open armed bow as Xenia did in the spa room.

The stag, like most of the other deer Scylla had seen so far, wore nothing but a collar and a smile. Not that she truly noticed, being too distracted by everything else going on around her. The minotaur holding her had been expecting him though, and as the deer stepped forward, he loosened his grip.

“I hope you’re not trying to say something serf,” said the minotaur as he released the kelpie into the stags care, “If I’m not on time, then you should know that it’s the slave’s fault.”

“Of course not Master Jupiter.” the deer agreed, “And I would never assume otherwise of a mighty minotaur, I assure you.”

The fat minotaur snorted in a huff, seemingly indignant about the deer male’s very existence. Nonetheless, he left the care of the kelpie in the hands of this buck, and joined his fellow bovines on the stone seats.

As the bull walked away, the deer closed the door the massive male had left open in his hurry. “Theeeere we... go!” he said as he exerted a deal of effort on the door made for a much larger creature than himself. Finishing that task, he returned to the kelpie, and introduced himself proper to her. With a wave of his hand in front of her eyes, he broke her fixation on the rest of the room. “Hello there, and allow me to welcome you to the family.”

“What?” Scylla answered, still lost in what was happening around her, “Family? What are you talking about?”

“Forgive my terminology. We Antlertian consider all slaves of minotaur to be part of our family.”

The deer’s words confirmed Scylla’s fears. She wasn’t going to be a given to another pony, but to a minotaur. She despised the thought that she would have to act as a slave to one of them, having been given a poor opinion of the lot of them by the few she had already encountered. What could she do about it though? She couldn’t fight, she couldn’t run, and she couldn’t depend on anypony else to save her from this. All she could do was go along with whatever they had planned for her, else they might punish her for trying to resist.

“But let’s move past that for now. I need to give you something before the ritual started, and master Jupiter did take a while getting you here.” The deer went over to a hook near the door, and retrieved from it a white strap of thick leather. The kelpie, still consumed by her own thoughts, didn’t even notice this until the deer was already wrapping it around her throat. “Chin up please.”

Scylla did as she was requested without considering what the deer was doing to her, and as she rose her head, he brought the two ends of the strap together. The two ends had attached to them a pair of clasps, one sliding into the other with incredible ease, making a loud “Snap” sound as hooks fell into place. As if that weren’t enough, the deer then took a key that had accompanied the piece of leather, and slipped it into a hole in the clasp. With a twist, several devices within closed around the inserted parts of the conjoined clasps, trapping them inside for as long as these additional parts were in place. With this done, and the key removed, only one who had the key could remove the collar from this point on.

With the collar now firmly in place, Scylla couldn’t help but touch it. It was a little tight against her skin. Not so much that it interfered with her breathing, but enough that the thick leather was un-ignorable, an ever present thing on her person that would remind her of what her status was in the eyes of her captors. Continued exploration of the object revealed to the kelpie that the band was smooth, lacking almost any discerning marks or features, save for one.

On the front of it, embedded in the leather itself, was a symbol of some sort. Scylla, having been distracted, was unable to see this when her collar was being put on, but by touch she could feel that it was a gemstone, of what kind she couldn’t discern, with a smaller circle cut into it about a half a centimeter in that traced the outer section of the stone. The etching also had connected to it several wavy lines that headed towards the center, meeting there to join as one. Lastly, the three segmented sections in the gem the lines created had a single dot each put into them. If the shape of the gem had any significance or meaning, Scylla couldn’t hazard a guess. All she knew is that the gem added a bit of weight to her new accessory, which she worried would cause her to strain her neck as she wore it.

“Do you like it? It’s a special collar given only to special females.” The deer said as he attached a leash to a small ring on the collar’s front, located just below the gem.

“It’s… nice…” Scylla dishearteningly responded, not seeing what was so special about either it or herself at this moment.

“Nice?” the deer asked, picking up on the kelpie’s depressed tone. “I suppose it’s not ideal, seeing that this is your first day as a slave. You’d probably rather be back home, doing whatever pony things you were doing before you were brought here.”

The very mention of her home reminded Scylla of everything she had taken away from her. Her room, her things, her friends, and most importantly, her father. The mare couldn’t help but start crying at the loss of it all.

“Aww, come now. There is no need for tears.” the stag said in the most calming voice he could manage, using the fur on his hands to wipe the tears away and clean up the smudges of makeup all her crying up to this point had caused, “It’s tough now, but once you get past this things will get easier. You’re gonna get a nice, strong master who will take care of you. You’ll be trained by the Society to become the best mare you can be, and once that's done you’ll have a life of ease as a bre-”

Before he could finish what he had to say, the lights in the room dimmed to near darkness, and every voice in the room grew silent.

“Shoot, the ceremony is starting.” The stag said in a hush, “We need to get into position or you’ll get in trouble. Please follow me, and try not to make a sound.”

The stag stepped out into the clearing, and while Scylla did not follow him immediately, the tug of her leash got her moving. It also helped to guide her, as her tears and the darkness of the room obstructed her vision. As quietly as she could, she went where that taut strip of fabric led her, and a few seconds later, she was standing in front of one of the rows of stone benches, in front of an unknown number of men would wished to take from her any freedom she had.

Not long after, music filled the room, a soft, ambient melody to set the mood of the event. Then, seven spotlights came to life, all of which pointing to the wall of dark crystal Scylla had noticed before. It drew in her attention, as well as that of every occupant in the room, and wiping what was left of her drying tears out of her eyes, she managed to see something that was truly amazing to her.

From seemingly out of nowhere, a mare appeared in front of the wall, a crystal unicorn mare, purple with a dark blue mane, wearing a shimmering black evening gown and holding a microphone. She was the same one that had teased her father earlier, but she was blindfolded at the time and didn’t know that. All she knew was that mare had some form of importance, seeing that all attention was being solely directed to her at the moment, and that she had just came out of nowhere. At first, Scylla believed she was just mistaken. That her tears and the crystal unicorn’s colors just made her perceive the mare appearing out of thin air, but soon something happened that completely removed any doubt.

As the crystal mare walked to the center of the room, a minotaur, one slightly bigger than the other ones she had encountered, walked into the room, coming out from the crystal wall. He hadn’t smashed through it, or stepped out from some secret passage behind hidden by the wall. He had literally stepped out from it, like he was walking through a wall of water. It wasn’t just him either, as an odd, orange pony with white hair came out right after.

As astonishing as that was, leaving Scylla wondering if this was a trick or actual magic at work, she couldn’t help but have her attention drawn back to the crystal mare as she moved along. Wherever she went, the spotlights followed and centered on her, and likewise the two that were emerged from the wall followed.

The mare made her way to the altar, and once there the large minotaur behind her lifted her up, setting her a top it. After dusting off and straightening out her dress, the unicorn brought her microphone to her lips to speak.

“Esteemed members of the Society Security Sector,” she began, looking around the room with a sinister smile, “I welcome you to our second Minotaur Matchmaking ceremony. A celebration and reward for all the hard work you’ve done to help us accomplish our goal of joining submissive ponies with their rightful masters.”

The crystal mare was very pleased with herself as she gave her speech, as Scylla could tell by the happiness she was emitting. Scylla couldn’t understand how anypony could take joy in this. In kidnapping other ponies, but this unicorn didn’t look at all hesitant about the awful things this group was doing. She wasn’t wearing a collar either, so she had to be somepony who profited from this slavery ring.

“Since this is only our second such event,” the mare went on to say, “I am going to explain the rules of this event one more time before introducing our ‘rewards’, just to be sure that everyone present understands the proceedings. This ceremony is a bonus to go along with your pay, the chance to get a slave of your own before we finalize the projected goals, and gather enough slaves to make them available to all members of The Society. However, because we are on short supply of available flesh at the moment, it was decided that the most fair way to decide who gets our lovely little offerings was to hold a lottery.”

A lottery? Scylla thought to herself. She knew that she was going to be made a slave, and had assumed that a minotaur was going to be her owner, but now the kelpie was learning that she was not being bought, but raffled off to whichever of these bovines who happened to hold a ticket with the right number on it. Something about that made this all feel more degrading, like she was being treated as a door prize.

“Six of you lucky bulls will be called down in front of your peers, so that you may then join in a game of roulette, and determine which of our attractive and alluring females will go to which of our winners through the fairest means possible.” With the rules laid out, the crystal mare gave her long mane a flick with her hand, adding quite a deal of flair to the action, the gesture all part of her performance as she used her body motions to entertain the audience. “With the rules out of the way, let’s proceed to what you are all here for, and introduce the slaves that the most lucky of you will be crossing your fingers for.”

The mare lifted her finger up into the air, pointing to the heavens while looking within the shadows that surrounded her. She stood this way for a little while, allowing the suspense to build in the crowd. Scylla could feel the tension filling the room, a deathly silence consuming all sound as all awaited the unicorn’s next move. If all eyes were not upon the crystal mare before, they sure were now.

She was well aware of this too, as she made a “Heh” noise loud enough that it was picked up on her microphone. Next thing the audience knew, the crystal pony was on the move, bringing her arm back down, shooting her hand to her side to point out into a seemingly random direction. The very second her arm was fully extended one of the lights that beamed down upon her broke away, running off into the direction that she pointed as if she had projected it herself. It flew across the floor, traveling through the room in a straight line, until it landed on something in the darkness. That something, was another pony.

“Hailing all the way from Horseshoe Bay,” the crystal mare said as the single light shined down on a pink unicorn, “Everyone put your hands together for Charming Tale, our new ‘Element of Obedience!”

At the mare’s command, the room erupted with the sound of applause. Scylla didn’t join in, but her eyes were glued on this new pony. Like herself, the pink unicorn was completely nude, save for a cloth collar around her neck with a topaz upon its front, a black ring around the base of her horn, and her own arms which were doing their best to cover any private areas. The kelpie couldn’t tell from this distance if the gem was the same shape as her own, but she could tell that like herself a leash was coming off of it like her own, certainly being held by somepony just outside of the light.

Scylla could tell other things about the unicorn too, like her body type for instance, which was tall, but rather slender. She reminded Scylla a little of a supermodel mare from one of her magazines, Fleur De Lis, except that she was a darker shade of pink, her much more wild mane was purple, and her breasts were not nearly as impressive, being somewhere between an A-cup and a B-cup. It wasn’t often that Scylla saw a mare with such a nearly flat chest like the unicorn’s.

Physical features aside though, Scylla could tell that this mare, who had probably been abducted from her own home the same as she had, was doing just about as well as emotionally as herself in all this. She was trembling enough that it was visible at a distance, finding it hard to stay still at the thought of all the men staring at her with their hungry eyes. A wavering smile was doing its best to stay on her muzzle, but the way it was rapidly vanishing and reappearing told Scylla that it was fake. She probably thought that if she smiled, the slavers would take pity or go easier on her. Scylla didn’t believe that their sadism was going to be so easily swayed.

“Miss Tale,” Schorl said as the unicorn trembled, “Is a bright mare with an alluringly slender frame. What she lacks in chest size, she makes up in her beautiful petite features, and a personality that is… independent, but willing to obey when properly motivated. The time I’ve spent with her has revealed to me that all she needs is a strong master and a firm hand against her rump. Talented in her craft, and talented in the bed, she would make an excellent addition to any master’s harem.”

With the unicorn’s description finished, the crystal pony moved her hand in another direction, another light beam separating from her to shine down on a pegasus. With fur a dark, yet pale blue and silvery hair, this mare’s appearance was not as the previous one. She was covering herself, like Charming Tale was, but did so without a ounce of fear. Its stance was unshaken, defiant, shooting a furious glare at the mare center stage. If not for the leash attached to her throat, around which which had a collar that bore a sizable diamond, and a pair of straps binding her wings, Scylla would have expected this mare to fly the coop, despite the daunting odds she would face in her attempt.

“Representing both the pegasus race, and the ‘Element of Selflessness’, we have Blue Yonder.” the crystal mare announce, “A former resident of Canterlot, this pretty pegasus gave up a life as an elite for a life of adventure, and now she’ll have the greatest adventure a mare can ever experience.”

Scylla spotted Blue Yonder roll her eyes at the crystal mare’s comment, which the kelpie found a little humor in seeing, despite this grim situation. Scylla could tell that this mare was not one to be intimidated, and wished that she could be more like her in the face of danger. A little bit of courage would have done her wonders right now, when her knees were hitting against one another as she tried to will herself from shaking on spot.

“Moving on to her demeanor, she has shown a great deal of resistance to the process. Her submissive side, while there, doesn’t pop up often. Putting her in a state of helplessness helps to bring her true self to the surface, but most of the time you will be dealing with an attitude. Perfect for the master who wishes to break in his slaves himself, or the sadist who likes their pin cushions to give them a bit of lip.”

A round of applause followed the end of the crystal mare’s description, announcing the approval of this pegasus as one of the prizes for this event. Blue Yonder closed her eyes and let out a sigh at this, not impressed or moved by the acceptance of herself as an offering, but aware that her approval was not required in this. Whatever her captors had in mind for her, she was going to be a part of, and for the time being at least she’d just have to put up with it.

With another point from the crystal mare, a third light departed from her, this time landing on a visage that shocked Scylla at first glance. An earth mare, with fur so black that she almost blended into the shadows and icy blue hair appeared. Unlike the other three mares, Scylla included, she was not brought to a heel by the simple application of a leash. She was held within much heavier bonds.

Starting with the one thing all the mares shared, the earth pony’s collar had in it a chunk of orange amber. The collar itself was a much heavier, made of a silvery polished metal like steel or iron. Her arms and legs, all having highly defined muscle tone, were shackled not with a single pair of cuffs, but with half a dozen on each in order to insure her inability to break free, her appendages greatly weighed down by the sheer amount of chains dangling between them. Her head likewise bore a thick layer of bondage, with a cloth sleeve wrapped tightly around her muzzle, a heavy leather blindfold wrapped around her eyes, and even some sort of padding stuffed into her ears to plug them up, As she was, only her sense of touch was unrestricted.

“A mare that requires little introduction, this troublemaker is one that many of you have dealt with before.” the crystal mare said this with a bit of a chuckle, as if amused by remembrances of the earth mare’s attempts to resist and defy her organization, “Miss Midnight, has become a bit of a popular pony in our slave stock. Originating from Rainbow Falls, this mare grew up with aspirations to join the Equestrian Royal Guard, and eventually achieved her prestigious goal in her adulthood. Later, Miss Midnight was donated to the Society by one of her superior officers, a member of our luxurious group, when she chose to poke her nose in places it didn’t belong.”

A chattering of clinking chains sounded from Midnight, sensing somehow that she was being talked about though her bindings should have prevented that. In response to her movements, a pair of minotaur hands came from the shadows, landing down on her shoulders to keep her still.

“Miss Midnight is our ‘Element of Humility’, an appropriate designation for one who will need to learn the trait extensively for her future role. While she will be a challenge, her body is well crafted by a lifetime of training for guard duty. Toned and tight, her form will snugly wrap around the shaft of her future owner, forcing shes of pain and passion from her muzzle as she crafts her song of subjugation.”

During another round of applause, this one a little less enthusiastic for this problematic pony, the crystal mare went ahead and directed a fourth light from her central spot. The reveal this time was not shocking like last time, but nonetheless interesting. The previous three were all of the dominant pony races in Equestria: Earth Pony, Pegasi, and Unicorn. The latest addition to the group was a bit more unique.

A thestral, or bat pony in the common vernacular, had appeared. A brown furred, white haired variety of the species. Scylla knew very little of bat ponies, as they were a seldom seen pony race. Not on the level of a kelpie, but thestrals apparently lived in isolated areas far away from where most other ponies lived, for reasons she didn’t know. Here one was though, standing buck naked with a black fabric collar adorned with a rose quartz on the front of it. If there was a theme to these gemstones, then Scylla had long since lost track of it, as by now she could tell that all the gems were slightly different in both color and shape.

The bat mare, awaiting the descriptor of herself that the crystal mare was undoubtedly going to give, wasn’t in any way bound to do so. Unlike the others, she had no leash on her collar loop, nor straps on her webbed wings. In fact, she had in one of her hands one of those purple peaches that Scylla had tried in the spa room, and was quietly munching down on it as if nothing was wrong in the world. For some reason, to the bat pony this was all about as nerve wracking as a leisurely stroll through a garden. Not only was she unbound and unphased, but when the light struck her form the minotaur in the darkness immediately clapped for her appearance.

“Yes, yes,” the crystal mare said, “We have reached the second half of our introductions, and with this we have reached a mare you have all been waiting for. The ‘Element of Pleasure’, the sweetly seductive Nightshade!”

At the utterance of her name, the bat mare looked up, finally aware she was on display, and gave a wave and a smile while she continued to chew her fruit.

“How adorable.” the crystal mare said, “This bat pony was bred and raised in the grand nation of Minopolis. Trained and educated in the talents she would need in marehood, this filly recently came of age, and is ready to use these skills to serve a worthy master. She’s cute, exotic, willing, and a virgin, eager to be ravaged for the first time by the brutal cock of a bull.”

Nightshade gulped down whatever bits of fruit that were in her mouth, “Well when you put it that way, you make me sound like a masochistic slut.” she said with a giggly manner of speech, sounding like she was at the verge of laughing with each word.

“Well there is nothing wrong with that sweetie,” said the crystal mare, “Especially not considering the type of slave you’re gonna be.”

Nightshade nodded with a bright smile, and returned to what remained of her purple peach.

“That being said, while Nightshade has had extensive teachings into her role as a slave, she has no personal experience. Thus she, like the rest of the prize slaves, will require a bit of time at the Society’s facilities to make sure she is physically prepared for her duties.”

The crystal mare’s words caught Scylla’s ear, having finally heard a bit of good news. No matter what happened in this room, or which of these minotaur would become her master, she would not be leaving this building, at least not for a while. That meant she would be able to stay where Pathfinder was, and that perhaps there was still a chance to escape with him in the near future.

“Next!” the mare said, moving past the bat mare, slowly redirecting her hand to a fifth location. “We have a first for the Society. A special treat that has been asked for for some time, and only now has been made a reality. So please, welcome to our happy group, Gabriella of Griffonstone!”

The crystal mare’s hand finally reached its destination, and as with all the times before, a light was cast out to part the darkness away and reveal a female. The woman in question this time was even more different than the bat pony before. Not because she was a rare species or that she was unbound. On the contrary, her race was fairly common in Equestria, and her wings were bound up just like Blue Yonder’s. But she wasn’t a bat mare or even a pegasus.

Gabriella, as she was called, was a gryphon. Half bird, half feline. Grey feathers and fur covered her entire body, with only yellow talons for hands and a small patch of white under her chin, one partially obscured by a leather collar and the large sapphire attached to it, to add a bit more color to her palette. With the light shining on her, these feathers puffed out, and her body tensed up in a defensive gesture. It was hard to tell if this was due to anger or fear, but like most of the others put on display here, this gryphon was not happy with her current predicament.

“For a long time, we had a particular policy to leave the gryphons alone so long as they were willing to aid in the Society’s goals. The more we stuck to this though, the more our members desired these graceful avians to be a part of our slave roster. After much negotiation, I was finally able to barter a price for one of whom they would never miss. This leads into Gabriella’s good qualities, as her fellow gryphons found her far too chipper, with an annoying desire to help others above and beyond the boundaries of her job as a mail deliverer. Generally, she doesn’t really represent the greedy nature of her race, and they didn’t appreciate that characteristic about her. Of course, that eagerness to please is something The Society looks for in an “Element of Dedication”, and we are more than happy to take in this girl when no one else wants her.”

Once the crystal pony finished, Scylla could tell that there was only one pony left to be exposed to those awaiting their offering of flesh, that being herself. The others were positioned in a way that they were directly across from one another, with Scylla herself being in the path of the earth pony guard mare. The moment the crowd stopped clapping, she would be in the spotlight. This had given her time to adapt, but could one really prepare for something like this?

The kelpie would soon find out, as the applause came to an end, and the crystal mare’s head turned to lock her eyes on Scylla. Even in this darkness, the unicorn peered directly at her as if she knew precisely where Scylla was. Not only that, but there was something about the gaze of this mare that unnerved the kelpie. Something beyond being glared at while naked, or found out in pure darkness. It felt as if the crystal pony was looking at private and secret things that Scylla wasn’t even aware of until now, that her very soul was fully exposed, being ogled at with regards to what kind of invasion that would be of Scylla’s person.

“And lastly, we have our piece de resistance,” the mare said with a pointing of her hand, sending an assault of light down upon Scylla, which removed any protection the darkness had given the aquatic pony. “Scylla, as this mare is known by, is a gentle creature known by some in Equestria as a mere shopkeep from Vanhoover. Others know her more by her race alone, which might be a disservice to the girl. Be that as it may, this kelpie is a rare species in Equestria, a breed of pony who is more accustomed to living underwater than walking on land, this one was adopted as a child by a pegasus, and thus never became as xenophobic as the other kelpie. This rare occurrence has granted us the opportunity to capture one of their illusive race without too much difficulty.”

Scylla had never known much about kelpie as a species except that she happened to be one. As the crystal mare had said, they were a rather elusive species that shunned and segregated themselves from other races. When Pathfinder had found her as a baby, he and all his close friends were so uncertain of what she was that he had to take her to Canterlot, to talk to some of Equestria’s greatest scholars in order to figure out what she was and where she belonged.

At the discovery of her species, more problems arose when the kelpie’s extreme xenophobia was brought to light, and how they would not present themselves to land based ponies for any reason. They were not the first species to disassociate themselves completely from ponies, as Pathfinder learned, but it meant that returning Scylla back to her family was practically impossible, as even if he had located a kelpie city, they would not have helped him in the slightest. Seeing no other options, and feeling responsible for her safety, Pathfinder took it upon himself to raise Scylla as his own.

“While this girl arrived just today, only hours ago,” the crystal mare continued, “I see within her the potential of a slave of the highest honor. An 'Element of Submission'. She bares a fragile will that exists to be shaped, guided, and protected, and under the watchful eye of a strong master, she will be among the greatest of servants. An obedient mare who will serve without question, have the selflessness to put her wants beneath he who owns her, learn the humility that comes with her role in life, grant pleasure with her flesh on par with few others, and give her life in devotion to her betters.”

The crystal mare’s predictions for Scylla unnerved the kelpie even more than her glare, saying that eventually she would just give in to this enslavement. It was another scenario like those in the dark romance novels she had read. Some pony would be captured by a powerful creature they couldn’t escape, and over time they become used to the creature’s oversexualized treatment of them, reducing them to a slave whose only goal in life was the pursuit of personal pleasure through obedient servitude towards their imprisoner, the only one who can grant them such feelings by that point. It was another thing Scylla had assumed was only real in fiction, but the crystal mare talked about it happening to her as if it were a foregone conclusion. She should have dismissed this as just nonsense, but the crystal mare has such conviction in the way she said things that it was hard to dismiss.

“And with that, all introductions are now out of the way.” said the crystal mare, one remaining light shining down upon her as the other six stayed affixed to their designated mares. “And with that out of the way, we can move on to the moment you’ve all been waiting for, the calling of numbers, and the distribution of our lovely slaves.”

Slowly, the main lights in the room brightened up, and made seen every person in it. The minotaur in the crowd, the deer aiding the event, and the ponies that had been exposed for the majority of the event lost any remaining concealment they once had.

“Please follow me,” said the stag holding Scylla’s leash, making the kelpie jump. He had been so quiet that Scylla had forgotten he was even there, her attention towards him pulled away by everything else that was going on. “We mustn't keep Lady Tourmaline waiting.”

“Lady Tourmaline?” Scylla questioned, before feeling a slight tug that ushered her forward.

“The mare that’s been talking this whole time.” the stag informed, “She’s the headmistress, and will be the one managing your training. Well, her and your master.”

Confirming what the kelpie already assumed, the deer made a beeline for the center alter. Scylla followed, feeling more brave and no less helpless as when she first entered the room, steadily approaching what was certainly her doom.

“We will now move onto the lottery,” bellowed the minotaur who had stayed close to the crystal mare, filling the room with his voice. “When your number is called, please come down and confirm your ticket.”

A doe rushed up to the minotaur at his announcement: pretty, young, and carrying a bucket in her arms. When arriving to his side, she shifted the container into one arm, holding it up with both the appendage and her modestly sized breast. Thus held, she drove her hand into the bucket, pulled out a small slip of paper, and handed it over to the minotaur.

“Ticket number 1408,” the minotaur said after inspecting the ticket, calling down one of his brethren from the stone stands.

The doe went on to grab another paper, and as she did, the crystal mare leapt down from her perch atop the altar. By the time her hooves touched the floor, each of the prizes for the event had been brought to the center, save for the bat mare, who had gone there of her own accord.

“Hi girls!” she said to the six women now surrounding her, her tone no different than how one might greet a long unseen friend, “Thank you all for being so patient and quiet during the ceremony. I’m so glad that we didn’t have to gag anyone this time.” saying that, she took a sideways glance to the earth mare being escorted by her bovine escorts, “Not during the proceedings, at least.”

“Is that suppose to be a joke?” asked the blue pegasus, if so, it’s not very funny.”

Resting her head on a singular finger, the mare answered, “I suppose not, seeing your position. You’ll have to excuse my failed attempt to give levity to this. Believe me, I understand how distressed and confused you all must be right now.”

Looking around, Scylla could see that there was still a variety of emotions among the group that she had been dragged into by this crystal pony, creating a thick tension that the mare really seemed oblivious to. If she truly understood how they felt, she wouldn’t have forced them into this.

“However, this is neither the time or place for your questions or complaints. Your masters are being summoned, and we need to get you all set up.”

“Yes ma’am!” Nightshade practically yelled before climbing up on one of the large metal slabs, turning herself around once on it so her back laid upon it. With a spread of her legs, and raising of her arms above her head, the bat mare then announced, “Ready!”

“Oh Nightshade…” the crystal mare said with both exasperation and bemusement, “I appreciate your devotion, but you need to learn a little word called ‘decorum’.” giving a light sigh, she went on to say, “But I suppose that can wait for another day.”

“A-are we all going on that thing?” Scylla asked, believing she already knew the answer.

“Yes, indeed you are,” replied the crystal mare, “And I would appreciate it if you all did so willingly. Otherwise, we’ll have to force you on there, and I’d so hate to have your bodies bruised before your masters got to you. Though I’m sure their understand if push comes to shove.”

As the crystal mare finished what she had to say, the two minotaur restraining the bound earth mare lifted their prisoner up by her arms. Sensing her world slipping out from under her, she started to flail around in the air, desperate to be released. The two hulking bovines weren’t having it though, and with little effort they tossed her on one of the slabs, the impact making the whole altar rattle. It caused Midnight to yell into her muzzle, as well as made Nightshade bounce up slightly.

“As you can all see, it would be little problem to force the issue.” said the crystal mare as she delightedly watched the two brutish males remove the many bindings on the earth mare, only to rebind her with the straps attached to the slab.

In moments they were finished, leaving only the collar on, which let Midnight take in her current environment for the first time. What she saw didn’t please her in the slightest, and now freed from the restraints that prevented her from vocalizing her opinion, she gladly gave it.

“Where the fuck am I!?” she shouted, pulling her arms forward, only to find them bound in chains that prevented her from lowering her elbows below her forehead, “Where did you bastards take me!?”

“Charming, isn’t she?” said the crystal mare, “You can see why we decided to tie her mouth shut.”

“Oh fuck off you filthy, slaver bitch!” Midnight rebutted, “When the princesses find out about this, it’s going to be your ass that’s in chains.”

Scylla had to agree that she didn’t enjoy the earth pony’s harsh language, but in this case it wasn’t like she didn’t have a reason to be angry.

“Ignore her,” the crystal mare said to the rest of the group, “We can’t allow her to spoil are delightful evening. Now if you all would be so kind...” extending her arm out, she gestured the others in the direction of the altar.

Still seeing no way out of this, Scylla took a deep breath, stepping forward. She and the unicorn Charming Tale both went up to the structure with the deer holding their leashes, Scylla taking the spot next to Midnight, and Charming Tale taking the next spot aside the kelpie.

“No!” yelled the guard mare, “Don’t listen to her! Don’t give in to her bullshit!”

Scylla looked meekly at the guard mare, knowing she was right, but at a loss of what to do otherwise. Her only choices were to get on willingly, or get on painfully.

“What would you have us do instead?” said Charming Tale, as well aware of their options as Scylla was, “Our soft bodies are not as accustomed to pain as your finely sculpted one is. So if I’m going to be raped, I would prefer it be done as easily as possible. If you don’t mind, that is.”

The guard mare didn’t enjoy this response, of course, but didn’t see how she could ask civilians to put themselves in direct harm. As much as she despised the thought, she would have to resign herself to simply giving the crystal mare the most hateful death glares as she could muster.

The two mare’s accompanying deer assisted them onto their slabs, crouching down before them to offer their backs as steps, and assisting with the bonds on the device. Scylla soon found her legs forcibly spread apart, her arms chained above her, and waist belted down so she could not remove herself from the altar without assistance. Bound in this manner, her entire front was fully exposed and vulnerable, meaning that she was past the point of no return. Whatever defilement that would befall her now was unavoidable, beyond some sort of intervention she had no reason to believe would come.

With four females from the six person group now in place, the two avian women found their own hesitation pointless. With nary a word, they too took their place on this altar to partake in this ill fitted fate. Little time after, all six were strapped tightly into the mushroom shaped piece of metal, awaiting what was to come next.

“And lastly, ticket 1986!” yelled out the crystal mare’s minotaur escort as he called out the final number in the lottery. At once, those not called forth joined together to groan loudly and destroy their now worthless slips of paper, crumpling, ripping in half, and otherwise discarding them with no concern of the cleanup it would cause for someone else later.For the six chosen though, it was a joyous occasion, and they each stepped down with varying levels of satisfaction and, for some, smugness as they reveled in their victory of chance.

The six bull men joined in the central area, presented their tickets to the one that called out their lucky numbers, confirming to him that they deserved to be part of the main event. With a nod, they were admitted the right to participate, and to take a place around the altar. Scylla watched the men talk among one another, deciding the order of which the would stand around the structure, and commenting on which one of the females they would perfer over the others. Watching them all, Scylla really couldn’t tell much about any of them. These minotaur each looked like large, imposing monsters to her, not helped with the terrible knowledge that each wanted to violate her body in ways she didn’t want them to, but couldn’t avoid, thinking about.

They had their variances, some more muscular, some with longer or shorter hair, one even having a large metal ring in his nostrils, but they all looked the same in Scylla’s eyes. Even the fatter looking one walking her way had no features about him that made her see him as an individual from any others. Prejudice it might have been, but a well deserved one that had been shoved into her thoughts by these monsters.

“Well, well, well…” said the heavy set minotaur, positioning himself in front of the kelpie, “I can’t believe that I really got a shot of owning you. Seems like it might be fate for us after all.”

Scylla looked at the minotaur, unable to see beyond his massive image as he loomed over her, She didn’t know what he was talking about, but it seemed to him that there was some point behind his words. For some reason, that made the words important to her too, and as she shifted them around in her head, a horrific truth dawned upon her.

No, please no! She thought, her mind racing with a surge of fear induced adrenaline, Anything but this!

This minotaur was the pot bellied one she had to endure the company of earlier when being guided to this room. The sadistic one that made mention of cracking a whip across her bare, exposed pussy lips and pressing hot metal against her skin. The one the stag that leashed Scylla called ‘Master Jupiter’. This awful bull who set the standard of what she felt towards his entire race. How could she be so unfortunate as to have him be even a potential master for her. What if he already was her master? What if she belonged to him and she just wasn’t aware yet? How was that even determined?

“Ok, ok, enough gawking at the meat.” said the crystal mare’s escort, striding aside Jupiter, “Take a spot, and we’ll get these slaves sorted out.”

“I’m fine right here.” Jupiter said, giving Scylla a nasty grin, “Right in front of my desired bitch.”

“Fine,” said the other minotaur, “Just don’t cry to me when you don’t get her.”

With that said, the minotaur reached over Scylla, and grabbed a handle located in the center of the top of the altar, one flush with the flat area, and had gone unnoticed by Scylla. With an impressive display of strength, the bull lifted the entire structure, mares, gryphon, and all, with one arm, and twisted it to lock it into some unseen mechanism within the central beam that held up the rest of the structure. This also increased the height of the mushroom significantly, placing the crotchal regions of the six females at the same height as the crotches of the minotaur, for reasons that were obvious to everyone involved.

“Ok, you all should know the rules!” said the minotaur as he released the handle, “One spin, whichever bitch stops closest to you is yours! No do overs! No complaints!”

“Sounds perfectly fine with me.” Jupiter said, licking his lips, staring into Scylla’s eyes with malintent, and grabbing the handle to the right of Scylla’s head.

The other five winners of the lottery gathered round, taking a place in front of seemingly random female, and likewise grabbed a handle next on the altar. After that, they all winded back said arms, which in turn rotated the structure in the direction they pulled it towards in unison. The motion of the thing Scylla was strapped to sparked a series of rapid conclusions for the kelpie, and she quickly figured out what the one minotaur meant when he said ‘spin’.

Thus, with a combined effort to push the altar in the opposite direction they had pulled it, the minotaur group sent the whole thing spinning in a circle like a playground merry-go-round, their one consolidated effort more than enough to send the six women they were competing for in circles. The entire decision of who would go to whom, and who would be whose master decided on a simple game of roulette, wherein no one could determine the outcome until the altar finished its rounds.

To Scylla, her world became a tornado of whirling images, and a cluster of sounds as she and the other soon to be slaves called out in fright, discomfort, outrage, or in the case of the bat mare, pure enjoyment. How anypony could enjoy any of this, which felt terribly akin to some twisted implement somepony would put into a horror book, was beyond Scylla, but Nightshade didn’t seem phased by any of this. Scylla didn’t know if she would be interacting with that mare much in the future, but she hoped she wouldn’t have to be around somepony who made light of a situation that ruined the lives of five others. Bondage and slaveplay were fine if that's what you’re into, but one should have qualms the moment others are forced to play along.

That thought faded though as the spinning of the altar slowed, and Scylla found her mind going back to the topic of who her master would be. Anyone but Jupiter she hoped. Anyone but the one who already told her he was going to torture her, if only to have that much longer to believe that she wouldn’t be abused. She prayed to whatever forces or deities that might have had control over the outcome of this cruel game that she wouldn’t land on him, but as the metaphorical wheel of fortune slowed, she could see Jupiter looking at her come round. His mouth grinned gleefully at her approach, and he rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation, knowing that at the pace the wheel was going, that she would most certainly stop directly in front of him.

Minotaur Mating Ritual

The rotating altar slowed to a steady crawl, with Scylla passing by a minotaur and into the range of the one called Jupiter. There was little doubt she would end up with him, as the spinning of the device she and five other females were strapped to was coming to a stop. Jupiter, aware of his great fortune, licked his lips in anticipation, just having to wait for the roulette to come to a halt.

As his sights were focused on the kelpie, so too was she focused on him. Her heart raced, her mind finding it hard to comprehend the poor luck mounted against her. She was no statistician, but even she could understand the sheer odds that should have been in her favor to not be with this one specific minotaur. Yet it was happening, and she was helpless to stop it.

Fearing and loathing this fate that had been assigned to her by some uncaring force in the universe, she did the one last thing that she was capable of doing in her pinned and prone position; She screamed.

“NOOOOO!!!” She shouted, adrenaline filling her veins to finally push out what traces of the anesthetic remained within her, “NOT HIM! ANYPONY ELSE! I DON’T WANT TO BE TORTURED!”

Scylla pleaded with all her might, foregoing all logic that said that she would be ignored, that there was no one there that could or would prevent her from being given to Jupiter. It didn’t matter though, she was going to end up in the clutches of this man.

“That’s right, empty out those lungs,” said Jupiter, ecstatic in both his victory and the kelpie’s distress. For one who enjoyed the suffering of others and the exercising of his own might over those he saw as vastly weaker than himself, this was a glorious moment of triumph. “We’ll just have to make you scream twice as loud when I stick my meaty dick in your dripping cunt.”

The other minotaur around the wheel groaned at Jupiter, none really enjoying his declarations, which to them seemed like boisterous bragging that he had won the grand prize. There was not a one among them that wouldn’t have wanted that kelpie as well, and likewise had plans for her to satisfy their own desires. Not that the other females were not on par with the aquatic mare, but Scylla was presented to be the top prize of the ceremony, and would have been a feather in the cap of any who acquired her.

Yet those in the crowd, who by this point had no stakes in who got who, encouraged this bit of poor behavior from the bull, shouting out things to him such as “Yeah, impale that pony bitch on your cock” or “Tear that cunt a new fuck hole” or other such debase and lewd comments. Not all of the crowd were joining in on this jeering, in fact it was a mere fraction of them that chose to spout off such obscenities, but in such an enclosed chamber with all others respectively watching to see the outcome of the spin, it was very noticeable.

Enough to egg on Jupiter, and get him to say more to amuse those in the crowd as sadistic as he. “I’m gonna pump you so full of cum, you’ll be spouting it out your mouth in a geyser,” he said while looking Scylla in the eye, “I’m gonna slap that tight ass till it’s as red as your hair. I’m gonna-”

“HRK!”

Just as the altar was going to come to a complete halt, a sudden and unexpected burst of speed came about, propelling the tables just a little bit further, restoring a bit of momentum to its rotation.

“Wha-what?” Scylla uttered aloud, confused as to why she was moving past Jupiter, and slowly onto the next minotaur.

It took a moment longer for Jupiter himself to realize something was amiss, but when he did, his eyes darted around frantically for the source of the problem.

“HRK!”

Again came the sound, and with it another jolt of momentum to the altar, Scylla moving ever so more past Jupiter. The minotaur was starting to believe the others around the altar were playing a prank on him, and saw some smirking to further convince him to this theory. However, when he tracked their eyes, he saw the true culprit to all this.

“HRK!” The sound came a third time, right out of the mouth of Midnight, the guard mare strapped to the table. Time and again she was shifting her powerful earth pony body, slamming it against her bounds to propel the table further along its rotation, pushing Scylla beyond Jupiter, which placed herself in in front of him instead.

“W-wait!” Jupiter reached for the altar to stop Midnight, panicked that he was going to lose the mare he rightfully earned.

“Don’t touch it!” yelled the larger minotaur monitoring the event, “If you interfere with the results, you’ll be disqualified.”

“But Sartek, this mare is interfering with the results right now!” Jupiter said, pointing to the mare coming to a stop in front of him.

“So what? Want me to disqualify her?” Sartek said, arms crossed, “There are no rules saying the mare’s can’t affect the results. If there were, then we couldn’t even do things like this, as their weight alone changes the outcome.”

“But-!”

“I said before, no complaints,” said Sartek, cutting off any other issues Jupiter had, “You get what stops on you, and it looks like that earth mare is all yours.”

Just as Sartek said, Midnight stopped manipulating the altar when she got close enough to Jupiter that there was no question that she landed in his section.

“The pairings have been decided!” These words filled the chamber as the altar came to a complete halt, spoken by the crystal mare as she yelled into her mic with a large amount of fanfare. “With the wheel at full stop, these six lovely females are now the designated property of the bull standing before them. Give a round of applause to each of these lucky participants for receiving by fate their chosen partners.”

Applause did come, but not all felt that they received what they truly earned as Sartek went to lock the altar into place, while others believed that they had clearly won out more than the others. One such pony was the earth mare, a grin across her muzzle as she looked into his baffled and outraged face with a small sense of victory.

“What’s wrong?” she said, mocking the minotaur in front of her, “Didn’t get the mare you wanted? I guess you’ll just have to settle with last prize.”

Midnight added insult to injury by devaluing her own worth as a slave. Having spent enough time within the walls of the Society, Midnight knew that some of the members considered earth ponies to not be as extravagant or worthwhile as slaves of other races, especially when it came to those who were not themselves earth ponies. She had reason to believe that this sense of inferiority was shared by Jupiter, and even if it wasn’t, at least a few of the others in the room had to believe similarly, and that was all she needed.

As she expected, a few of the other minotaur started chuckling lightly, finding Jupiter's change of fortune amusing from their unaffected point of view. Midnight herself joined in as Jupiter’s disbelief turned slowly to simmering anger, and he said under his breath. “You fucking bitch…”

“Maybe, but it looks like I’m your bitch now.” The guard mare replied, glaring triumphantly at her ‘master’s’ misfortune and impotent rage. Bound, trapped, and exposed as she had been, she could still find ways to defy The Society.

The next thing the earth mare knew was a powerful impact as a large bovine palm went across her grinning face, Jupiter having enough of her tone towards him. He was the one here with the power, not this slave, and for her insolence he was going to make her see stars. Having sent his open hand across her face, he sent his arm in the opposite direction so to catch it again when she dared to look back at him. His knuckles connected with her snout, digging down to the bone without breaking flesh, leaving behind a mark unseen because of her fur that was sure to later become a deep bruise.

He repeated this a few more times, smacking and backhanding Midnight to act out his frustrations with her, and to silence all who mocked him because of her ruining his chances to acquire the kelpie. There would have been no telling when he would have stopped, if not for Lady Tourmaline’s interference. Seeing that his aggressive actions were putting a damper on the ceremony, she decided to step in herself to try and quell Jupiter’s fury.

“Excuse me,” said Schorl as she went to his side to get in his peripherals, “But do you believe that this is necessary?”

“Stay out of this,” Jupiter responded, not caring the slightest about the crystal pony’s opinion. “This bitch cost me a lot right now, and deserves to be punished.”

“That may be, and you certainly have the right to punish her now that she belongs to you,” said the crystal mare, “But I personally see her actions just now as a compliment. Out of all the bull masters she could have had, she chose you. For everyone else, it was just random luck, but this one wanted to be with you more than any other. There must be some merit to that, I would believe.”

Jupiter thought about it a little. The mare did go out of her way to give herself to him, when she could have put herself in another space and out of his immediate reach. Looking at the battered earth pony, weakened by his assault. “So… you wanted to submit yourself to me, did you?” Jupiter didn’t truly believe that was the case, but the notion did have an attractive quality to it.

“Fuck... you...” Midnight responded, defiant to the minotaur regardless of the pain she felt.

“Don’t mind if I do.” he replied.

Jupiter grabbed the mare by the waist, wrapping his hand completely around her, and with his other hand reached down to his lower garments. He didn’t bother undoing a button, or pulling down a zipper, opting to instead tear the covering from his body, breaking seams and tearing fabric with only moderate effort. With nothing holding it back, Jupiter’s cock was exposed, growing into solidity with his thoughts of pushing into this mare who was, as far as The Society was concerned, all his.

“This seems like as good a time as any to move on to the closing ceremonies.” Lady Tourmaline said, moving away from Jupiter now that his temper had been sated. “As one final gesture, these six minotaur masters and our lovely, talented, and beautiful Elements of Servitude will consummate their newly founded master and slave relationship.”

“Consummate?” Asked the lone gryphon girl strapped to the altar.

“It means…” Blue Yonder said with a grimace, “They are going to finalize their ownership of us through sex.”

“But… but…” the feline avian tripped over her own thoughts, perhaps the only one of the group here that didn’t expect this to end in violation.

“Is there something on your mind?” her randomly selected master said as he removed his own pants, doing so in a much less dramatic way than Jupiter. “You have better speak it now, before the only thing that can escape your mouth is moans and screams.”

“I’ve… never done it before.” Gabriella admitted, hoping that it might touch some place of sympathy within the massive male undressing before her.

“I see…” the minotaur said, fully undressed, his own bullhood at full erection. It looked every bit as muscular as his hardened abs and rippling biceps, with large veins popping out around it’s exterior. “Then this will be very uncomfortable for you.”

The way he said that was without joy or malice, just a blank statement telling the gryphon girl an undeniable truth. While it might have been meant as sympathetic, it came off as cold with the minotaur stroking his shaft to maintain its rigidness before Gabriella.

“Please, don’t. That thing’s bigger than my arm.” the gryphon begged in one last attempt to appeal to whatever sense of morality resided in this man.

Understanding well the avian’s worry, the minotaur placed a hand on the side of her head to firmly rub her beak and cheek. “You will be fine. You were given injections before arriving in here, yes?”

Gabriella nodded in reply.

“Then no matter what I do, your body will be able to take it. It will hurt, but you will come out of this unbroken, save for your womanhood, which I will claim.”

“You are too kind to these cum buckets Cestus,” commented Jupiter, his own cockhead firmly pressed against the entrance of his slave’s pussy. “All the words in the world won’t make this easier for them, so the most merciful thing to do is just cram it in, like this!”

“Don’’t you da- AAACCKKK!” Midnight tried to protest her imminent penetration, but with the minotaur’s hand gripping around her body, all it took was a mighty pull and a mightier thrust and the Jupiter’s impressive bullcock was shoved inside the passage that should have been several sizes smaller than needed.

“What a nice voice you have there when you’re not trying to put on a brave face,” Jupiter said amused with the guard mare’s sudden spike of vocal range as he inserted himself into her, the earth mare’s normally gruff voice peeking into a more feminine one as her sentence turned into a yell. ”We’ll have to force that voice out of you more in the future. It’s an otherwise adorable aspect from an ugly, beaten mare.”

Midnight’s only reply was a series of heavy breathing as she adjusted to the large foreign object within her. Her abs, solid and powerful as they were, had to give way for the rod of meat, and bulge outward to clearly indicate the outline of it. Looking down at her abdomen, she could see the outline had made it as far as her belly button, showing her the deepness of the minotaur’s penetration the she felt so intensely.

Having heard his associate’s commence in taking his pony as a female slave was suppose to be taken, the minotaur called Cestus saw little reason to delay his own task in this ceremony. There was more to this than the gryphoness at his mercy knew, and even had her sympathy ploy worked, he couldn’t simply leave her be. As a minotaur bull, it was as much his duty as his right to use this slave female for her intended purpose.

“Time to begin, Gabrielle,” Aiming his shaft, he pressed the head of it to the gryphon’s lower lips, untouched by a man until now. Unlike Jupiter though, he decided to ease it in, to at least give his woman the chance to adjust to his girth as he entered her moist passage.

The feathery female feline didn’t take it well at all, cringing and contorting her face in anguish as the bull made his way through her to its destination. She had not the fortitude of the earth mare, so she was much more vocal about her suffering, making birdlike screeches and cat-like cries as pain unlike any before filled her. Merely a quarter in, and the bull pressed his tip against her hymen, and with the same continuous motion he had been doing from the start he drove through the thin fleshy obstruction to proceed down the pathway of her vaginal passage.

Halfway in, and she could feel the gigantic sexual muscle slightly shifting her organs to make room for its presence. Fortunately for her, she had been injected with the same elasticity formula that Scylla, and all the other girls for that matter, had been given. This allowed her to endure this sheer impalement of her slender feline form, physically at least, if mentally she was going through the tortuous feeling of having flesh stretched far beyond normal limits.

Wild Blue looked from her peripheral as this girl she had known for barely half an hour was being ravaged by a remarkable pole of a penis. The way her bull prolonged her agony by pushing into her as slow as feasibly possible, his hips getting ever closer to his captive victim’s as he vanished inside her, with a dripping crimson flowing down his length to drip on his sack. It defied ignorance, just as much as the minotaur standing in front of her did.

His own mass of male meat stood up in front of her, an intimidating sight to any woman of her size. “I-It’s my turn now, i-is it?” she said, doing her best to put on a brave face despite the peril presented to her. In her mind, Blue Yonder felt she would be ripped in half, or at the least experience some form of tearing, no matter what she was told about the chemicals flowing inside her. Logically, no pony could be fucked by something so huge without some form of injury or internal damage.

“Not quite.” said the bull, his inflections holding some dignity in the way he spoke.

Of the minotaur around the altar, this one appeared to be the most… matured, though perhaps that wasn’t the right word for it. He was not as large as some of the others, but his tannish fur had many greying strands within it. While not showing signs of being elderly in the slightest, he was a little past his prime.

“Not quite?” Wild Blue asked back, a bit confused as to why this slaver wasn’t taking his unwilling prize.

“Heh, don’t mistake me for a bull calf who is mating for the first time. You are not my first slave, and once your training is finished you’ll be meeting with your new sisters. Others that I’ve tamed, just as I will tame you.”

The pegasus gave a shudder at the way the minotaur said that, as it appeared that she had been delivered to a trained slaver, one who knew what he had picked up over the years. He implied with his declaration that not only had he done this to another woman, but several others that he had held hostage somewhere that she would be spirited away to herself after The Society was done teacher her what they believed she needed to know.

If she heard him correctly though, the bull wasn’t going to fuck her, at least not right this moment. “Then, what are you going to do to me?” she asked, this strange turn of events begging the question.

“Do you know the way to a woman’s heart, my dearest?” the minotaur said, answering her question with one of his own.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not going to say chocolates?” Wild Blue Yonder halfheartedly replied back.

“A sense of humor I see. No, such frivolous trifles are little more than ineffective bribery. Of course being a female, you would know this.”

“Then what is-?”

The minotaur knelt down before the pegasus, added yet another unexpected thing to the list of uncharacteristic things for this slaver and rapist to do. What he did next however put him back into the character that Blue Yonder envisioned him to be.

The bovine placed his hands down on her inner thighs, holding down her already bound legs for what seemed to be his own amusement as he put his face directly in front of her exposed snatch.

“You have a beautiful hole here.” he complimented, though this particular praise was not something the pegasus appreciated. “I will be honored to pleasure it in ways you never dreamed of.”

“As if I would ever be pleasured by the likes of you.” Blue Yonder retorted, feeling nothing but disgust in how the bull stared intently at her private area.

“Oh you will.” the bull stated bluntly, “Because this is the path to a woman’s heart. Not gold, or gems, or candy. If you can tame this orifice, then the female is yours to command.”

For some reason Blue Yonder felt this explanation was not meant for her, but more for the other minotaur around who were brashly jamming themselves into their own respective mares. Outside of boasting, there was little reason to tell one’s prisoner your strategy for getting them to submit. It just made them aware of what you were doing, and thus mentally prepared for your attempt.

Then again, she still didn’t know exactly what he was planning to do to her. Foreplay seemed to be the idea, and he could try to finger fuck her if he wanted. His index finger was roughly the size of a stallion’s cock, so it would at least not harm her vulnerable nethers unless he got aggressive with it. She wondered though if these hulking brutes even knew the concept of restraint though.

Watching his bound and powerless slave closely, the minotaur began moving his thumb over her mons, flicking his digit lightly across the fleshy portions of her pussy a few times to gauge her reactions. As one might suspect, she didn’t react well to his light stimulation of her erogenous zones, and gritting her teeth she refused to make a single sound just to spite her captor.

“Stubborn I see. I’ll let you know now that you only have two options here. Either you enjoy this of your own accord, or I’ll make you enjoy it against your will.”

“Bite me,” The dark blue mare replied.

“No biting…” he answered to Blue Yonder’s rebellious declaration, “But perhaps a taste is in order.”

Without any more warning, the cow let loose his tongue from his mouth, sliding it squarely across Blue Yonder’s slit. Unlike with the brief periods on light rubbing the bull’s digit had caused, this sudden slippery slither was not so easy to ignore. Blue yonder managed to keep her silence, but the spark of sensations made her head real back, with gross and unwanted feelings washing over her mind all at once.

The bull gave her nary a moment to rest either before making a second pass, removing his tongue from her flesh for the briefest of moments before setting its tip at the very bottom of Blue Yonder’s slit. A lift of his muzzle was all it took to send it across the path it had traveled before again, the rapidity of the twin tongue lashes doubling the sensations on the spot.

The pegasus mare couldn’t help but moan this time, releasing a sound that was made of both the uncomfortable pleasure starting to well up in her being, as well as her dismay for allowing herself to feel this way to begin with. Disgust should have been the only thing she felt right now, but unfortunately the body cared little about the difference between consensual and non-consensual touches.

It only got worse from there, as the minotaur continued lapping at her lower lips, diligently sending his tongue across it time and again, hitting every spot of exposed flesh like a mother cat cleaning a kitten. Blue Yonder, through all this, managed to hold her voice from the minotaur, stifling herself every time she thought she might yelp or moan, determined to keep as much control over this ordeal that she could.

Seeing the mare’s determination to deny him her pleasure filled cries of passion, the bovine decided to turn his game up a notch. Placing his tongue at the bottom of her slit again, he went up once more, but this time at a fraction of the speed he had been doing all this time, to which Blue Yonder was just starting to adapt to. The change of this steady pace made it more difficult to endure the touches of his tongue, prolonging what was a momentary feeling to one stretched out to the extent of its possible duration without stopping completely.

But when Blue Yonder confirmed in her mind that she would have to withstand an elongated attack to her senses, attempting to deaden herself to it, the minotaur changed his tactics half way. Giving no warning, he zipped his tongue tip side to side, traveling the remainder of her pussy entrance in a zigzagging pattern. This made the act of cunnilingus both shockingly rapid and achingly slow at the same time, with the tip dancing from one fleshy fold to another at rapid speeds, while the time he spent going along his path stayed nearly the same.

The pegasus’ reactions to this grew labored, with each few seconds of staving off what her body was experiencing growing more and more difficult. A torrent of disgusting pleasure was piling up inside, pressing against a mental dam that was quickly filling to capacity, and once it was filled there would be nothing left for it to do but spill over or burst. Blue Yonder kept trying though, and as the minotaur reversed his course, she found herself sealing her lips to hold in the air that passed through her clenched teeth, puffing up her cheeks in a rather silly display of resistance.

“Still not going to give in?” questioned the minotaur as he reached back to the part where the pegasus’ pussy touched her taint, more bemused than aggravated, “You are a willful one, that’s for sure.

With this break from the onslaught of sexual stimuli, Blue Yonder took the opportunity to take several deep, if haggard, breaths. A few tiny beads of sweat had formed on her body, the mental endurance she had to implement having a small effect on her physical form. Blue Yonder wanted to take as much time as she could to rest, because she knew her torment wasn’t over, and the minotaur wasn’t showing the same signs of fatigue as she was.

“You’re resilience is impressive, but you can’t fight me forever.”

“I… can… try…” Blue Yonder worked out these words through gasps for air, believing that if this was the extent of his skill, she could still manage to keep her pleasure to herself, if barely.

“You can… but you can’t succeed, especially since I’ve been taking it easy on you.”

“You’re… bluffing…” Blue Yonder said to dispel the minotaur’s claim, though realizing that he really hadn’t done as much as he could have as of yet.

What he did next recanted her nearly empty retort completely, as without a single word, he opened his mouth as wide as he could, releasing his tongue in its entirety. The organ was, to put it lightly, abnormally large, even for a creature of the bull’s size. Thick, long, the piece of malleable saliva soaked flesh was at least a foot in length. That was much more than the mere tip of it that she had felt before across her tender skin, and with him revealing it like this, there was only one thing that could happen next.

Blue Yonder, predicting what future this bull had for her, couldn’t help but attempt to avoid it. She moved her hips as much as possible, but with both the straps and the minotaur’s heavy hands on her legs, there was very little wiggle room, making her attempts a futile and alluring gesture for her captor.

Thoroughly amused by the fear of his appendage Blue Yonder was showing, the bull did as she had expected, and put his tip to her dirty entrance, her pussy now saturated with his spit as well as the fluids she produced when he first licked her slit. As wet as it was, all it took was a push to make the tongue enter her, the well lubricated passage inviting him inside with a strong embrace as it constricted around its penetrater.

Blue Yonder could no longer stifle herself, and in defeat she howled out the desires of her body. As the tongue crawled into her depths, her fleshy walls squeezed around it to make its touch all that more vivid. While she might have hated being violated in this way, her hole loved getting filled. The feel of the tip, gliding along her insides, leading the way for rest to work its way in. Once that tongue got into her tunnel, there was no stopping it until the passage was stuffed full, and the tip of it was pressing against the entrance to her womb.

As devastating as that was for the mare, it was nothing compared to what came after. Once the minotaur had gotten as deep as her cervix, he did what only one with such a large, meaty tongue could. Pressing his lips against the now quivering entrance of the mare’s sex, the minotaur rolled his tongue around, making it go back on itself, moving it around in waves, generally doing all he could to hit every unguarded spot inside her.

“EEEAAAAAHHH!!! NOOO!!! I! PLLLEEEAAASSSAAAA!!!” Blue Yonder was now yelling and wriggling with all her might, finding it impossible to hold still or be silent against this form of pleasurable punishment. She could still fight, still tell herself that she despised what she was being forced to feel, but she could no longer deny what the minotaur was doing to her when that metaphorical dam inside her was smashed apart with practically no resistance, sending the pegasus into the start of a string of orgasms.

Sounds of woe and lust resonated through the chamber, bouncing off walls, echoing back to the exhibition taking place in the center of it. Joining these grunts, screams, sobs, and moans were the cheers and jeers of the audience, the minotaur horde taking the consolation prize of getting to watch the show. Congratulations on conquering the bound females and mocking phrases at the suffering female’s expense were liberally tossed out, turning this ritualistic rape into a spectacle, with Scylla being at the center of it all.

To the kelpie, this combination of noise and stares pointed in her direction as other females were being violated around her increased her awareness like nothing before. Perhaps it was the fear made adrenaline flowing through her veins making her feel this way, but never before had she been able to take in her surroundings with such detail. Every second was a still frame, a picture that if Scylla wanted she could take in and observe without interruption, every person there a character she could take in. Yet despite these heightened senses, she was pouring all of it onto one creature, the minotaur she had just narrowly escaped.

As she watched, Jupiter was fucking his earth pony with such force that it amazed the kelpie that it wasn’t shaking the alter with every thrust. He was alternating between having half his shaft inside the guard mare, and going hilt deep with a slamming of his hips that rattled Midnight’s whole body. With such a show of brutality, it was very hard to focus on anything else, especially since that sexual violence was originally intended for her. Scylla was so drawn in that she was ignoring the minotaur that was in front of her, the one that was supposed to be her owner.

The minotaur had not touched her yet, waiting and watching as his slave stared unflinchingly at his associate. It he were insulted or mad, he didn’t show it on his stoic visage, merely waiting and watching his mare to see how long it would take her to realize his presence.

The kelpie’s entrancement with Jupiter was only broken when the sadistic bovine himself brought it up. “I bet you’re so disappointed that it wasn’t you taking my cock in your pussy.”

Instantly, whatever power Jupiter had over Scylla broke, snapping her back to reality. “W-what?” she asked, the shock of being brought back to the real world confusing her slightly.

“You’ve been eyeing my dick like a hungry slut from the moment I stuck it in this bitch,” Jupiter gave another thrust, forcing a howl from his victim as he pressed it in so much that his head poked up a bit of the flesh around her stomach. “You must really have wanted this inside that dripping twat of yours.”

“Is that true?” asked the minotaur standing in front of Scylla, finally drawing in her attention, “Do you want Jupiter to be your master? If so, then I suppose I could arrange a trade.”

Jupiter paused, pulling his cock out of Midnight a bit, while remaining inside her partially. “Really now? You’re willing to trade off a fine piece of ass like her?”

“It’s not that I want to,” Scylla’s owner answered, “But to be honest, the thought of my slave drooling over another man is making me a little jealous. If she’s going to be lusting after your dick over mine, then it would be better to just let her have what she wants, and get a different mare to replace her.”

Listening to the two minotaur’s discussion, Scylla understood quickly the mistake she was making. She was going to be handed off to a man she had no desire to be anywhere near, unless she started showing an interest in the one that she belonged to.

“P-please no.” Scylla said, directing her head to her owner, “I don’t want to go to him.”

“Is that the only reason why you’re paying attention to me now?” asked the minotaur, Scylla unable to tell if he was annoyed, curious, or whatever. The minotaur was quick to let who know though by adding to it, “Because it still sounds to me like your more concerned with being away from Jupiter than you are being with me.”

Her current owner wasn’t wrong, as if she had the option she wouldn’t be with any of these minotaur, but the way things were presented it was only the option of this one or the incredibly sadistic one. She just wished that she knew what to say in order to prevent her from going to the latter of the two. How would she be able to convince the minotaur to keep her though?

“Oh~ Ah~ Please, give me more~”

These noises suddenly sprung up next to Scylla, coming from the opposite side from the guard mare. She shifted her glance to her side, doing her best to make sure that her eyes didn’t stray too far from her owner. In her peripherals she saw Charming Tale, the unicorn of the group, being molested by her own minotaur master. He hadn’t stuck his penis inside her yet, but was no less being assaulted sexually.

The bovine, utilizing a ridiculously long tongue, was slurping voraciously over the her chest. While her breasts were nearly flat, he used the massive fingers of his hands to squeeze them and plump them out so he can better lick and suck what little she had. It was a vile display, with the minotaur disgustingly lapping at whatever exposed bits he could find, but there was something off. Charming Tale, who had appeared nervous earlier, was smiling and making elated sounds as her body was defiled. One might even believe she was enjoying what the rapist bull was doing to her, as she lifted her head up to expose her collared neck, and arched her spine like she was in the passionate throes of ecstasy.

That couldn’t be right, but with her calling out things like, “Suck them more!” and “I'm so wet from your licks!” there seemed little doubt that she was receiving some form of pleasure from what should have been a horrifying ordeal. Maybe her will had caved in the face of such an overpowering creature, or the bovine beast of a man ignited something primal in the unicorn that made his domination of her be perceived by Charming's frightened mind. as something enjoyable.

Whatever it may be though, the minotaur looked quite pleased by the lust filled words and pleasant moans she was presenting him with, and with a smile across his face, he sent a hand down to her crotch, and inserted his middle finger inside her anus, using the fluids pouring out of her pussy to slide the digit in, forcing a shriek from the unsuspecting mare.

“THANK YOU MASTER!” she cried shrilly through the squeal, and with such a elaborate praise of the minotaur’s ability to invade and violate her, Scylla wasn’t as sure as she was before about the trepidation she believed the unicorn was showing earlier.

One thing was for sure though. Her lack of fear and active participation was making her owner happy, and in this moment Scylla needed to make her owner happy. So the kelpie would have to play along, and make this at least feel as if she revered him as a slave should to those she belonged to.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think I didn’t want to be your slave.” she started, quickly noticing how clunkily that came out. “I’m just scared and confused. I’ve never been a slave before. I promise that I’ll be more obedient and mindful of what you want from me. I can be a good girl, I swear.”

Jupiter gave a huff, and returned to plowing his guard mare, believing that the mare was providing an adequate display of deference towards his cohort.

Her owner, on the other hand, didn’t change his facial expression. “You can be afraid. Even if you obey my every command, you should always be worried you could displease me. It will help to assure you always do your best as my slave. Is that understood?”

Scylla nodded her head in response, seeing now that the bull wanted her to fear his reprisal should she fail to meet his standards. He might not have been a sadist, but she had no reason to believe that he wouldn’t punish her if she didn’t do exactly what he wanted.

“Good. I expect you to learn quickly, and never fight my authority over you. Now, to alleviate your confusion.” Undoing the button on his own lower garments, Scylla’s master released his own bull shaft. “Your purpose from now on is to do as you are told, and to carry my child within your womb.”

If there was any bit of her attention that was divided away from the minotaur before, it evaporated when his intent for her was explained. Her, carrying his child?! He wanted to get her pregnant?! Was that even possible? He was a bovine, and she was an equine. They had to be incompatible with each other, but he seemed to believe it could happen. Maybe it was, and she just never heard of a pony and a minotaur couple before. She had heard of hippogryphs, and they seemed to be the cross between a pony and a gryphon.

What was she thinking, even if it was possible, she couldn’t get pregnant. She had never been a mother before, she heard it was very painful, and what would it be like if she birthed something that was part minotaur? The thought of it was causing a considerable amount of stress for the kelpie, making her hyperventilate, her chest going up and down as her breaths rapidly went in and out of her lungs.

“I see that got you excited.” The minotaur said, grabbing his flaccid dick, moving the skin around it back and forth, over and over again till the soft meat turned hard. The sexual organ, in Scylla’s terrified and near hysterical state, looked no less big than Jupiter’s. In fact, it looked even bigger with her mind making her envision it as nightmarishly huge. What was even worse was that she knew that… thing was going to go inside her. It was going to spread her pussy out around it, delve deep into her fleshy cavity, and find its place inside her most private of spaces, to a place where even she had never explored in her times of private masturbation.

As that image played out in her imagination, the minotaur took this opportunity to emulate her horrific fantasy. To the kelpie, the male bovine was tracing the every action of the phantom of him she had envisioned, and thus when it placed it’s cock against her tight, moistened hole, he trailed no more than seconds behind.

When it pushed into her, he did the same in a similarly slow and torturous manner, forcing her lips to part around it till it formed an O shape snugly around him. When the imagined minotaur thrust its hips in to press the cock inside her up against the entrance to her womb, he followed as well. Then, when it grabbed her around the waist and made one final push to get past that barrier, making it to a place usually reserved only for babies, the real version continued to play copycat and matched the mental representation of himself. It was so accurate that Scylla was bordering precognition, but that kind of foresight did her no good in this situation. All it did was make it twice as vivid, twice as painful, and twice as humiliating as she endured everything in double.

The minotaur made his way into her womb in small increments, the tip of his penis pressing hard against her cervix, the tiny dot that was its entrance having to part far to make way for this unrelenting force. As with her vaginal entrance, there was no stopping this battering ram of a sex organ, and had not she received the drugs earlier that made her insides elastic-like the flesh inside her would have ripped from the mass of male. Her flesh held, strained as her pussy parted to give him room, but otherwise whole.

“There we go…” the minotaur said to his slave, petting her hair, “That wasn’t too bad at all, now was it?”

The minotaur was referring to how Scylla had made little noise as he entered her, being much more silent than all the others who had let loose their pain and passion. It wasn’t that she had taken her penetration any better. On the contrary, she had it the worst. When trying to scream all that came out as a long squeak, and now she couldn’t even give a reply to what the minotaur said to her, only sniffles and sobs as she was given a moment to take in what had been done to her.

Given no reply, the minotaur took that as a sign to continue. He moved his hips, moving his thick shaft inside, rubbing it against every surface within Scylla’s sexual passage all at once. Her sore cervix, forced open by his cockhead, had to experience that spreading all over again each time he pushed in, as each pull out brought the bulbous tip out of the womb, giving the inner hole just enough time to try and shut itself before the invader came back. Scylla felt her muscles contort and contract on their own, reacting to the minotaur’s pounding penis within her. Just to hold still, she had to make a conscious effort, and then eventually that didn’t work either. The kelpie’s entire form eventually went on autopilot. Unable to move her arms or legs in any significant way, she became nothing more that a passenger in her own body, only her head could move on her own accord, and part of the time it was busy bouncing up and down to follow the force of the thrusts the minotaur was making in her.

All of the other mares were being likewise fucked by their respective owners by now, with Blue Yonder and Charming Tale’s minotaur having delved themselves into the pony’s after a bit of foreplay. Each of the bulls were pumping their bullhoods into their slaves, their women, whether the female liked it or not, which in most cases it was the latter. In return they received shrieks, groans, moans, squeals, yells, and whines showing the level of enjoyment or displeasure each one was getting from their steady and repetitive penetration, and in turn the females received grunts from the bulls in return.

This orgy of violation, combined with the continued cheers from the observes of it, attacked the senses of the six bound and helpless creatures. All the knew was the pain of the piston-like thrusts, the overpowering sounds surrounding them, the strong scent of sex that was so potent they could taste it, and the dizzying sights as they lost track of everything else around them. It was more disorientating than when they were span around, with their bodies involuntarily giving in to the abuse, and delivering to the girls world shattering orgasms that sickened all but those few who cared not that they were now the sexual slaves of these physically imposing males.

And as one might expect, the clenching and spasming of the female’s vaginas massaged the minotaur’s meat rods. The pleasure the minotaur took from this was amazing, rewarding their sensitive, yet powerful shafts with immense gratification. For as bad as this felt for their victims, it felt that good to them, and with enough of this pleasure the inevitable happened. The sacks beneath the men’s cocks squeezed down around the testicles inside them, and with a string of mighty grunts, they released their loads.

Shooting, spurting, the thick white cum poured out of the cock holes, directly into the wombs of each of the bound women. The fluid could be felt within them, filling their depths with a heat that was like fire against their abused internal flesh, serving to make this terrible point in their lives all the worse as the application of the substance on places that were worn and perhaps rubbed raw added a noticeable sting to whatever discomfort they were already feeling. The cum, the twitching of the bull’s dicks, the aftermath of being violated by such massive objects, it left those who had to experience it all devastated, both physically and mentally. Even Nightshade, with all her eagerness, could only give a weary smile as her mind was lost in a sea of ache.

If it had stopped there, then it would have been enough torment for Scylla to last a lifetime, but of course things were never that easy. As she laid there on that bed of cold steel provided to her by this despicable group of rapists, able to do nothing but stare into the face of the one who raped her and take in what he had done to her, she noticed an ever growing pressure building within her. The minotaur hadn’t just came out one large shot that would slather against the insides of her body, he was cumming out several large wads that kept adding to the blob of sperm that was forming within her. With his shaft blocking the only exit, the only thing the sexual fluids could do was merge together and fill the space it was entrapped in, drowning everything else occupying said space. This continued till the pressure made her stomach swell out, visibly expanding till it looked rounded and plump.

The others had also been filled till bloating, finishing off this ceremony with a spectacle that was greatly approved of by the minotaur’s peers. The six chosen minotaur had consummated their ownership over their slaves, the duty that was expected of them was completed. With the five mares and the gryphon hen engorged so much, it was a certainty that their role would be fulfilled. Having no more reason to stay now that the show was over, they all headed to the exits in a disordered, but non-chaotic fashion.

As the others left, the six remaining in the center removed themselves from their victims. The absence of their cocks left a large void in the bodies of the women. The bulges in their stomachs quickly shrunk down as fluids causing them was given a path to escape from, the viscous seed flowing out of each woman in a mess of goopy gobs. The the women themselves, it relief of the pressure inside them was a god sent, and the conclusion of their rape felt far too great for what was a simple removal of what had caused them immense pain in the first place.

Scylla, having been pushed beyond what she believed to be her limits, found herself at a loss for even basic thought. All she knew is after all that, she just felt tired. She wanted to sleep. To wake up and find that this was all some terrible dream. The way she felt, the surreal amount of ease and relief after such defilement, almost made her believe that was the case, but then the minotaur that was her owner brought her back to reality with a grip of her mane.

Tugging it upwards, he glared directly into the kelpie’s eyes and declared sternly to the girl, “You are now mine. Your body, your will, they belong to me. Are we clear?”

Scylla gave a very weak nod back. Even with the adrenaline given to her by this sudden and fairly scary act of the minotaur, she could hardly muster the strength to move.

“Good, now rest. You will need all the energy you can get after that.”

The minotaur didn’t have to tell Scylla twice, and before she knew it her heavy eyelids closed down, turning her world to darkness. Hopefully whatever dreams she thought up would be more pleasant than her current reality, as when she awoke she would still be here, in the Society’s dungeon, and she would still be the slave to a monstrous male.

Author's Notes:

Took me a little longer than usual, but here is the next chapter ^_^.

Also, since they have been introduced properly now, I think it's time to say who the owner of our guest OCs are.

Charming Tale belongs to The Accursed One
Midnight belongs to Aceofspades69
Nightshade belongs to Obsidian
and Wild Blue Yonder belongs to PolarPuff

Maternity

Scylla drifted in the sea of her unconscious, exhaustion from her first experience of rape having overpowered her body’s stamina. In her dreams, all that awaited her in the waking world was kept at bay. This realm was a safe haven in an otherwise hostile place. The eye of the storm, one that the kelpie would have greatly appreciated had she the ability to acknowledge it.

In this forced state of rest, her mind was projected a million miles away from those who abducted her. Her dreams had her on the beaches of Haywaii, taking in the sun with Pathfinder, both of them enjoying the vacation like they should have been. It was all there for her; the soft sand, the salty air, and the cool waves that she could almost swear she could feel splash against her skin. It was everything she had hoped for and more, there in that paradise her mind made to comfort her. She couldn’t even recall the minotaur, or the horrid exhibition of the rape she and five other females had been put through, all of it pushed away to a place where the nightmares couldn’t reach her.

This moment of respite was not to last, as the slavers still had much they wanted from the aquatic mare. She was wrenched out of her dreams with a bit of prodding and nudging, which at first she believed was something within her dream. Continued and more powerful shoves brought her back to reality though.

“Huh…? Wha…?” Those were all Scylla could form from her lips as her eyes opened lazily, confusion replacing happiness as the warm sands and blue ocean turned into cold concrete and grey bars.

Scylla was no longer in the circular room with stone seats, no longer attached to the altar. She had complete freedom of movement, but she was inside a sizable cell with three walls and an ‘open’ area blocked by metal rods. She was not alone either, as all five of the other girls that had been raped along with her were there too. Shivering, soaking wet for some reason, fur saturated with water. After awakening a bit more she noticed that she was likewise wet, but her rubbery skin didn’t allow the water to stick like it did her fellow prisoners, as well as insulated her body from the chill the others felt.

“There we go, finally up I see.” The voice came from the other side of the bars, from an unfortunately familiar crystal mare sitting in a wooden chair, accompanied by the minotaur known as Sartek standing aside her. “Thank you for getting her up Nightshade.”

“Y-Y-Your welcome L-L-Lady Tourmaline.” said the mare closest to Scylla, that being the thestral occupying the cell with her.

“Sorry for the rude awakening, but it seems you’re a bit resistant to the usual method.” Schorl kicked a large bucket laying on the floor with her hoof, silently explaining to Scylla why everyone was soaked. “And we needed you up so I could get everypony up to speed and make sure that you’re all on the same page.”

Scylla was expecting the guard mare to deliver a retort to that, seeing as she made it clear that she was the kind of mare who wouldn’t back down from evildoers such as this mare. It was the blue pegasus who was the first to speak up however.

“I think we already understand what’s going on,” Blue Yonder said with disgust toward this mare, though her own shivering brought down her aggressive presence a bit, “You kidnapped all of us and sold us to a bunch of minotaur slavers.”

“Why Miss Yonder, you make it all sound so terrible,” Schorl replied, taking glee in taunting the mare, “But this is exactly what I’m talking about. You really don’t understand the importance of you being here right now. None of you do, save for Nightshade.”

The bat mare gave a bright smile at the sound of her name, taking some bit of pride in being called the smartest pony in the room by the crystal mare.

“Then why?” Scylla said, crawling herself over to the bars to grab hold of them, wanting answers to what could have made the crystal pony do something so cruel, “Why would you bring us here to enslave and raped us?”

“No need to go into mild hysterics Miss Scylla. We have will get to everything in due time.” Schorl answered, without actually answering anything, “For starters, I’m going to clarify that none of you were sold to the minotaur. Your masters work at this facility, help it with its functions, but not a dime was spent on either you, or the tickets involved with the raffle for your ownership.”

“You’re arguing semantics…” Blue Yonder said, draping a hand over her face in annoyance of the crystal mare’s ignorance about the true issue at hand.

“Perhaps,” Schorl replied, “But being that I am a pony in the business of buying, selling, and appropriating pony flesh, I feel it is important to differentiate which of my… trainees actually turn a profit for The Society. As of yet, none of you really fit that bill. Well... save for Miss Midnight, who has been here much longer than the rest of you, and has entertained many a paying customer in our torture chambers.”

“Piss off.” said Midnight, fire in her eyes as she sent death stares at Schorl. For however long the earth mare had been in this prison, and whatever she had been forced to endure, it only seemed to strengthen her resolve to not allow Schorl and those who did business with her to get their way.

“Charming,” Schorl said to Midnight, before returning back to her explanation, “Miss Tale also spent a brief time more in our facilities than the rest of you, as half of you arrived hours at most before the ceremony, but she was here a day ahead of time. She too was given a bit of The Society’s special treatment, but only in a private session with me. Quite the learning experience, I must say. Then again, perhaps I shouldn’t have expected anything else of a pony in her profession.”

Charming Tale blushed slightly, but turned away from her fellow cellmates to keep them from seeing. Whatever Schorl had done and learned surely affected the unicorn more than she wanted the others to know.

“Beyond that, I’ll also have you know that you’re incorrect about the kidnapping part too, as not all of you are here against your will.”

“Are you talking about the bat pony?” asked Gabriella, the rest of the group looking in Nightshade’s direction, all understanding well that she was a willing participant in all this.

“She certainly fits the bill, doesn’t she,” Schorl said, closing her eyes for a cat-like smile, “But there might be others among you that have become accustomed to the way things are here. Maybe I’ve even put a few spies into your little group in order to keep an eye on those not yet trained and tamed.”

Scylla didn’t know if she could trust a single word that came out of this pony’s mouth. Every word she spoke held the intent to cause chaos and spread paranoia. There might have been spies in the group, put there to make sure no pony was stepping out of line, or there could be none and the idea of spies was just brought up to cause distrust. Did it even matter? This was all too confusing for a simple shopkeeper.

“What makes you think that you’re going to get away with this?” Midnight asked rhetorically, the sense of justice she had built up as a guard mare telling her that this mare would never prevail with her vile scheme.

“Ah yes, the standard ‘you’ll never get away with this’ declaration,” Schorl replied, unphased by the statement, “But let’s just take a look here, shall we? In you’re little group we have a guard who is officially ‘under cover’ at the moment, a self ostracized Canterlot noble who goes wherever the wind takes her, a writer who spends months secluded away from the rest of Equestria, a bat mare from another nation who came here of her own accord, a gryphon who annoyed every other member of her race, and a shopkeeper whose friends think she just went on a long vacation on a tropical island. I’m sure that the search parties are being rounded up as we speak.”

The group looked at one another, and then thought privately about everything Schorl just said. None of them wanted to say it aloud, but the crystal mare just listed a bunch of very good reasons why no one would be looking for them, or would even be aware that their disappearance was odd.

“Now that you get why you won’t be leaving here until we say otherwise, why don’t we get down to what it is you’ll be doing here, and what is expected of you during your stay.” Straightening herself up in her chair, Schorl placed her hands in her lap, “Your main purpose is simple enough, and has already been fulfilled in a way.”

“How so?” Charming Tale chimed in, curious about what Schorl had done to them.

“Patience…” Schorl responded, “If you keep interrupting me, it will take more time to explain.”

“Sorry…” Charming said back, though less in a submissive manner and more in an indignant way, further making her stance on all this all the more unreadable. The unicorn was just a little hard to gauge based on outward presentation alone.

“Anyways, you have all undergone the first, and most important stage of your training as a slave. You have all been taken by your minotaur masters, and with that having been done you’ve each been-”

“Knocked up with a bull baby in our bellies!” Nightshade yelled, unable to hold her excitement about the topic. Schorl gave a sigh at the interruption, to which Nightshade turned a bit sheepish. “Oops, sorry Lady Tourmaline. I should’ve let you say it.”

Of course, none of the others were at all excited about this new revelation. For some, the thought of the possibility never crossed their mind. Scylla had been told by her owner that his intent for her was to bare a child, but until now she still clung to the hope that he was trying to scare her. With it now confirmed, the slaves in the cage were in an uproar.

“What do you mean we’re knocked up?!” screamed Midnight.

“That can’t be possible. We can’t be compatible with minotaur.” Blue Yonder added a little panicked, but calm enough to not raise her voice, “I’ve traveled around the world and I’ve never seen a hybrid between bovines and ponies.”

“No, I doubt you would have.” Schorl said, confirming the pegasus’ beliefs. “There are no hybrids between ponies and bovines. Same for gryphons, before that inevitable question is ask.”

“Then…” Scylla spoke up, but her voice was barely louder than a whisper when compared to the others. Still, what she said was important enough that everypony quieted when she said it. “How can we get pregnant if none of us can mix with minotaur?”

“That’s simple, you sweet little kelpie.” said Schorl, “When a minotaur impregnates a woman, the female’s egg is overwhelmed by their incredibly potent semen, and the boy that comes from it will become a minotaur without a doubt. A one-hundred percent, pure blooded bull.”

“That can happen?” Scylla questioned, amazed to hear about this odd trait of minotaur breeding.

“Why yes, and it has to happen that way because of how minotaur reproduce. You see, minotaur can only be born male. I doubt that any of you have ever seen a female minotaur before.”

None of the girls could say they have, but then some couldn’t even say that they have seen any minotaur. They weren’t exactly a common species in Equestria, even if other bovines like cows, bulls, and buffalo were. Minotaur were an odd race outside of these species, and it was a bit of mystery where these creatures originated to begin with.

“That being said, minotaur can only breed with women of other races.” Schorl continued, “Which apparently is a huge problem. Most other creatures in the world are much smaller than a minotaur, and as you all have experienced it can be uncomfortable to get fucked by one of these powerful men, even if precautions are taken to make it as easy on a woman as possible.”

‘Uncomfortable’ was an understatement. The act of having sex with one of the bovines was borderline unbearable.

“Because of this, the minotaur have found it increasingly difficult to find willing participants for breeding, and as a species their race as dwindled. That is until a group of them decided to take matters into their own hands, and started abducting and enslaving women to carry their young. This includes ponies, deer, cows, and whatever other females they can get their hands on. They keep males around too, but only as… personal entertainment and to breed more females to propagate their own race. Honestly it’s a very admirable and ambitious operation they have going on to make sure they don’t go extinct, and one that is helped by, and supports, the operations of my own ventures into flesh trafficking.”

“They can’t just ask a girl on a date like a normal person?” Blue Yonder asked, fairly indignant about the explanation given to her about why she had to be kidnapped and forced into this breeding program.

Schorl was about to respond, but before she could move her lips the minotaur that acted as her bodyguard stepped forward. Approaching the bars to look down on the naked pegasus, he gave a snort from his nostrils, signifying his contempt for the pegasus, or perhaps just what she had to say.

“My people did all they could to make what is a necessary process for us easier for you lesser creatures. We created medicines to make sex less painful and easier to do. We tried romancing your kind and showering you with gifts. We went out of our way to make females feel special, but…” Sartek undid his pants to expose his massively endowed shaft, so huge that it shocked most of the occupants of the cell, especially since it was giant despite not being remotely erect, “When presented with the idea that this would have to enter their bodies, most females would back out just before the act. Every so often a bull would get lucky and find a mare willing to go through the pain, endure pregnancy, and suffer birthing a child not intended for their small bodies. Those few are appreciated for their sacrifice, but were far too small in numbers, and becoming more scarce with each generation.”

“That doesn’t give you an excuse to do this to us.” Blue Yonder rebutted, grounded by her morality.

“Perhaps it doesn’t,” Sartek agreed, putting away his penis, “Many of our species believes likewise that what we do to prolong our race is wrong. However, some of those bulls exist among your masters. Even though they see this as a terrible thing, they know it would be a more terrible thing to allow an entire race to go extinct through inaction.”

“And what about you?” Blue Yonder wondered aloud.

“I,” said Sartek, his voice booming into the cell with so much contempt behind the single vowel word that in made the girls in it flinch by it’s utterance, “Could care less about how any of you feel about this. When I look at all of you, each a representation of of your species, all I see is weakness and inferiority. Were it up to me, you all would be placed in a breeding line, your heads placed in stocks and hips elevated by a bar to allow my men easier access to your snatches. You only serve one purpose now, and that is to bare bull after bull until you can’t anymore. With that in mind, none of you have any sympathy from me.”

“You’re a monster…” said Blue Yonder, believing her point was made, “And if that crystal mare is siding with such a cause, she’s a monster too.”

Surprisingly Sartek said nothing to that and instead returned to his spot next to Schorl’s side, leaning his back against the wall, and crossing his arms. The bull looked pleased with himself, like he had gotten something off his chest that he had been keeping welled up for some time. Schorl also chose not to respond to the taunt directed at her, for reasons the rest of the women present could only assume.

“But wait a minute,” Gabriella said, shaking her head as if in disbelief, “How can you be sure we’re pregnant? I’m not in my cycle, so it shouldn’t have took.”

While this seemed to be the gryphon trying to rationalize a way out of having a baby bull growing in her belly, she did have somewhat of a point. Ponies had to be in their estrus cycle to be fertile, and even then it was possible that some of the group were on the pill and had taken one before they were captured. Scylla herself was having trouble remembering if she had taken her own in preparations for the trip, or if she had chosen to hold off until she and her father had set hoof in Haywaii.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about your heat cycle,” said Schorl, quickly dismissing Gabby’s attempt to escape motherhood through logic, “Minotaur cum is incredibly virile, perhaps out of necessity, and as you all felt it comes in such volumes that it floods the womb. Unless you’ve made yourself incapable of having children by some means, then you have a bun in the oven. Besides, if by some ridiculous fluke you avoided the first attempt at insemination, your master will have plenty more chances to plant his seed, as it were.”

Just like that, the gryphon’s sliver of hope was snapped in twain, forcing her to go silent and contemplate on the future pain she would feel as she pushed out, from the sound of it, a rather large bovine boy.

“I see you all are simply ecstatic about the prospects of becoming proud mothers,” Schorl said, unquestionably sarcastic when every one of the unwilling women had on their faces varying expressions of hate and defeat, none of them seeing this as anything less than the worst form of bodily violation that could have been inflicted upon them. “But I assure you that this isn’t a bad thing.”

“Really!?” Midnight shouted out from behind the cell bars, voice stressed and filled with rage, “I don’t see you volunteering yourself for this!”

Schorl responded with a chuckle, “What I mean is that there are some benefits to being a minotaur’s slave wife. Isn’t that right, Sartek?”

For a second time the hulking male opened his mouth to speak, with much less contempt in his words this time.

“As dictated by the supreme senate of Minopolis, so long as you all behave yourselves, you’ll be well taken care of. Food, warm shelter, and general comfort during your time carrying and delivering your child will be provided to those who do everything commanded of them by their master, as will you receive whatever affection and gifts your masters believe your obedience has earned. No unwarranted harm will come to those who conform to their new roles, and once you’ve proven that you can be trusted we’ll consider returning some of your liberties”

“The only reason we’ll be holding you here, aside for the purposes of training your bodies to more easily go through what is to come and to condition you to be better slaves for your masters, is to ensure you won’t try something drastic in attempt to terminate the pregnancy. You’ll find that during your stay here, every facet of your lives will be planned out and closely monitored in order to ensure the health of your future children, at the expense of your happiness, comfort, and freedom of movement if need be.”

The way Schorl stressed the last part of that heavily implied that this all was something avoidable so long as those captive simply obeyed. That pseudo-promise alone was enough to make Scylla think it might actually be better to just go along with this, and gave her hope that if she was well behaved enough they might let her see her father again. The opposite of that was pain, misery, and bondage, so she would rather not go against them to make a bad situation worse.

“So what about after we’re done ‘fulfilling our role’?” Charming asked, “Are you going to let us go once we birth these calfs?”

“That is up to your master.” Schorl answered, “They might want a couple of sons out of you, or more. I’ll say though that even if they decide you’re too good to let go, The Society does have a program for ‘free range’ slaves, where we allow those who have fully accepted our rules and regulations to return to their normal lives, letting them rejoin the general populous. This comes with the stipulations that the slave gives up their will to their owner, and by extension The Society itself, but I believe the privilege more than makes up for the relinquishing of one’s self to those greater than themselves.”

“Interesting…” Charming Tale commented aloud, before muttering under her breath something that Scylla could barely make out as, “I wish I had my notepad right now.”

After that, the cell went quiet, as did the hallway just outside of it. All questions the mares could think of had been answered, all things Schorl felt they needed to know explained in enough detail that she was satisfied.

“I think that covers the basic tutorial for your stay in The Society.” said the crystal mare, “From this point forward, you will learn any additional rules as you go along. You will be taken to your rooms, and allowed a bit more rest before you are initiated proper into the ranks of our slave stock. Your daily regimen will consist of three meals, eight hours of sleep, daily showers, and a bit of exercise to keep your bodies from getting flabby. This is much better terms than our average slave gets, so please appreciate these extra privileges that comes with both your pregnancies and your continued cooperation with the process.”

“Of course, and how incredibly gracious you are for allowing us these blessings,” Midnight said in a very phony posh tone, displaying well her sarcasm towards Schorl.

“That aside… when you are not in the middle of these small luxuries, you will be doing work for The Society itself. Cleaning, being put on display, serving our members, and so on.”

“Our masters are going to allow others to touch us?” asked Blue Yonder, figuring that the minotaur were the possessive type.

“It is a necessary part of the process,” explained Schorl, “Acting as part of your training. The members, and our personal trainers, are very good at adjusting the attitudes of slaves, and the variety of fetishes they have will get you use to the kind of things your owners will want of you. Believe me, there are some here with much more extreme kinks than anything a minotaur will put you through. Also, allowing members to rent you all is a cost moderation method, as housing, feeding, and care for slaves can be quite costly. The more a members pay for your time and the use of your bodies, the less your master has to pay to reimburse The Society for our services. If they are lucky, they might even turn a profit off you.”

“Besides,” Nightshade piped in, her excitement in her enslavement showing prominently, “We’re already pregnant, so we can have all the kinky sex we want and not have to worry about it. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

“Not that there won’t be some restrictions,” Schorl added, “We of course will make sure that nothing happens to you that could endanger your babies, but some of your owners have also set certain restrictions to your use.”

“Oh?” Nightshade said with worry, her ears drooping slightly at the sound of possible limits to her sexual explorations.

“Don’t you worry Nightshade. Your master has allowed for you to be a Type 1 slave, as well have Charming and Midnight’s masters done for them. That means that members will have full access to your bodies to do as they please, so long as it isn’t too dangerous for you.”

Just like that, the bat mare perked right back up, ”Oh goodie, I was hoping that would happen.”

“Gabriella and Scylla on the other hand, are Type 2s. They can be used sexually, but their master’s have reserved the right to give them any form of punishment beyond a slap on the rear. That means that none of you have to worry about being put into anything that could be painful. Sexual torment is a common kink among our members, so you both should be very thankful for the protection your masters have bestowed upon you.”

“Y-yes… I am…” Scylla said aloud, as if to appease her absent minotaur master. She was happy to hear that the amount of terrible things that could be done to her were once more narrowed down.

“And that leaves Blue Yonder, who is our only Type 3 in the group. She will be allowed to be teased and tortured, to help tame that ‘Wild’ spirit of hers, but will not be allowed to have any sexual interactions outside of that which is provided by her master, with one exception.”

“An exception?” Wild Blue asked, not liking the sound of that.

“Seems your master is permitting access to your mouth for any and all male members who want to stick their cocks into your muzzle. I assume it’s part of your training, and he wants you to learn how to give head like a professional. He might even be hoping you’ll come to like it.”

All the pegasus could say in response to that was “Gross” as she imagined how her mouth and throat were probably going to get very acquainted to the salty taste of penis during her stay here.

“Well, I’ll admit that the flavor of a shaft is an acquired taste, but we’ll make sure you adapt to it as easily as possible.” That being said, Schorl stood up from her seat. “But as I said before, you’ll have a little time before you have to worry. Until then, enjoy your stay in my facility. I hope to hear great things from all of you.”

Finished with her lengthy explanation, Schorl crouched down momentarily to grab the bucket on the floor. Once it’s handle was in hand, she stood back up and walked down the hall, leaving the sights of the celled up women. Sartek stayed behind, giving The Society’s six new prisoners a final once over.

“I know none of you will believe this, but you all just hit the jackpot.” he said without a hint of his statement being a joke, “We are about to take care of you for the rest of your pathetic lives, and all you have to do is not act on stupidity. Think about that when you’re about to do something you’ll regret. It will save you a lot of pain later.”

Having said what he wanted, Sartek followed his employer, the mares feeling the ground tremble slightly with each of his steps until he made it far enough away. Now alone, none knew what to say to one another. The situation seemed bleak, and as far as they could tell there was no way out. Even if somepony knew of something that could help them escape, none of them could really talk about it either, not with the bat pony listening in, or the potential spy Schorl mentioned earlier. Right now all they could do was sit, and wait for whoever would come to retrieve them to come.

The Aviary

“Hey! Let me out of here!” screamed an infuriated brown pegasus stallion at no one in particular.

Pathfinder had been taken far away from Scylla, to another part of the Society’s facility altogether. As his daughter was escorted out of the spa, he had been picked up and dropped off at the place he was now, having been kept there for what felt like hours.

Where his captors had left him seemed to have been built only to humiliate those it held, and those it held were all pegasus ponies. Stallions and mares, all with wings bound in tight leather belts that were inches thick, each trapped in one of the most embarrassing things a sapient avian could be stuck in: a pony sized birdcage.

When Pathfinder came to this room, he was immediately bound in the same way as the rest and tossed into one of these cages by the minotaur who brought him, who then manned one of the many cranks lining the walls to elevate the pegasus dangerously high above the stone floor. Now he dangled precariously from a metal chain, shaking his ovalish cell to and fro as he tried desperately to open its door.

Knowing that Scylla was in certain danger, that their captors were doing something awful to her as he stayed stuck in this place, filled him with uncharacteristic courage, or perhaps incredibly characteristic foolishness. Even if he could muster the clydesdalian strength that would be needed to force the currently locked door of his cage open, made it to the floor without breaking every bone in his body, and somehow reunited with Scylla, he still had no clue how to actually leave this place. Still, he couldn’t just sit idly by as Celestia knows what was happening to his little girl.

Rattling his cage a bit more, Pathfinder rocked it around enough to hit its bottom against the chain of another cage. This cause the object of iron to suddenly jar, disrupting the pony held within in startling fashion.

“Holy crap!” yelled the pegasus stallion elevated slightly below Path, his cage tipping from the impact, so much that his body fell into its bars. “Knock it off up there, will ya!?”

Having endangered another pony, Pathfinder had no choice but to relent. He let go of the bars, setting himself in the center of the straw covered metal plate beneath him.

“Stupid newbies, causing trouble for everypony else.”

“Sorry!” Path yelled down to the other stallion, partially meaning it to be a sincere apology, but also using it to yell out some of his frustration.

“Don’t be sorry!” The other stallion replied, as angry as Pathfinder was, “Just settle down and stop being a problem!”

Pathfinder wished he could settle down, not only with his current anxiety, but with something more personal as well.

Before he had left the spa room earlier, the minotaur acting as his guard and guide had the deer give him a parting gift in the form of a metal ring, which was currently hugging the base of his swollen penis. The does, using an act of fellatio, imbued the ring with some of their odd magic, making the looped accessory glow with it. This made the ring squeeze tightly around his forcefully erect shaft, and periodically made it squeeze again and again to stimulate his cock and keep it at maximum erection. Every time he thought his shaft might soften, the glow on it would strengthen temporarily to keep it rigid. Judging by the patterns of the glow, ones that matched the tattoos he had seen on the deer earlier, Path devised that the ring and any devices like it must need the cervids to power them, which might explain why this group would have gone out of their way to enslave so many.

Path shook his head harshly to focus his thoughts back to what was important, something he had to do several times already since his mind kept wandering back to that ring. It was hard not to, with his stiffie as hard as it was distracting him greatly. If only the pegasus could rub one off real quick, but as tight as the ring was on him, he doubted anything by pre-cum would manage to slip through its grip. Past experience served as an example to that, so he didn’t even bother when all he’d be shooting would be blanks.

“Don’t let Hoops get you down,” said another occupant of the cages, a white pegasus with dark blue hair curled up in the straw of her suspended cell. She gave a long, open mouthed yawn before opening a pair of tired eyes, revealing their emerald hue. “He’s just grumpy. We all get a little cranky from time to time in this place.”

“Cranky?” Pathfinder said back questioning the terminology she gave, as that was commonly used to describe tired foals, not adults.

“Yeah, our keepers don’t give us a lot of time to sleep.” the mare said, stretching out a bit as she rolled onto her back, her slightly below average size breasts pointing upwards, “Usually four to six hours, or at least that’s what they tell us. Heck if I know if they’re telling the truth.”

Pathfinder watched on as the mare placed a hand on her breast and in an ungraceful display scratched the side of it, not caring about the stallion watching her do it. Her lack of modesty had an effect on Pathfinder though, and he found himself looking away to hide the fact that a blush was forming on his face from watching her touch her admittedly lovely body.

“But trust me newbie, you’re not getting out of that cage until the crystal witch wants you out of there. Struggling now will just make you more tired later.”

“I know you’re right,” Pathfinder relented, “But…”

“No buts,” The mare said setting her arms behind her head, making her hands into a pillow, “Whatever reason you think it’s worth draining yourself for, it’s not. If you want to get out of this with any of your own will intact, you’re gonna need to not waste energy on pointless escape attempts.”

“It’s not pointless!” Path protested, seeing nothing about wanting to save Scylla that was in vain.

The mare closed her eyes for a second, then opened them as she turned her head to face Pathfinder. “That came out wrong…” she said apologetically, “What I meant to say was that right now nothing can be gained from exhausting yourself. Eventually, somepony is gonna come for you, and when they do-”

“Their gonna make you their bitch and make you cum as they do.”

“Hoops, for fuck’s sake.” The mare half-heartedly scolded the stallion who had cut her off. “But he’s right. The pony that runs this place, as well as the ‘members’ love to torture us and make us do things for their amusement. If I were you, I’d just cross my fingers that the one that does is a mare whose really into doing it in the missionary position.”

“A-are… there ponies here that are like that?” Pathfinder asked.

“Not that I’ve seen,” the mare replied, “All the bastards here have some sort of strange kinks that they like to use us to explore. It sucks, but we just have to put up with it.”

Pathfinder gulped, and found himself actually following the advice he was given as he prayed internally that he only encountered the mildest of the perverted desires these evil ponies had in store for him.

“Anyways, the name’s High Winds,” the mare said finally introducing herself.

“Pathfinder,” Path replied in kind, “Wait a second, did you say ‘High Winds’? As it the-”

“The Wonderbolt, High Winds.” she said, closing her eyes as she got back into a resting position, “Don’t feel bad for not noticing sooner. Fans don’t usually recognize me outside of uniform.”

Learning that this mare was actually a Wonderbolt troubled Pathfinder even more than he already was, as if these slavers could get somepony as high profile as her, then exactly how much power or influence did they have? This begged a question that Path just had to ask though, as he needed to know what he was dealing with, and how screwed he was.

“D-do you mind telling me how you ended up here?” he asked, understanding that the question might have been insensitive, but found it to be the most important thing he could ask of her.

“How I got here?” she repeated back, sounding as if she was drifting back to sleep, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told ya, but a pair of my flight partners sent me here. One of them went AWOL on an unscheduled vacation, and when she got back they were able to go as fast as I had seen a pony go. A while later she asked me if I’d like to go through the same wing training too, and one of our stallions backed her up. Most athlete ponies would kill for that kind of speed, so I asked for a few months leave. Before I even left though, a group of gryphons nabbed me in my home and brought me here. A little after that I learned that they were connected, and Fleetfoot and Soarin had set me up on The Society’s orders.”

“You’re own teammates betrayed you?!” Pathfinder was shocked. To learn that The Society had their claws sunk so deeply into Equestria that they could set up such an abduction of a high profile pony without being noticed was, simply put, astonishing and scary.

“I’m not sure they wanted to,” High Winds said, “They are probably in it deep with these slavers too. Maybe their brainwashed or are addicted to one of the drugs they peddle here, but I’m sure they aren’t members.”

“How can you be so sure?” Path had to ask, wanting to know how the Wonderbolt could be so convicted about the innocence of her others when put into such a dire position by them.

“Well…” High winds started, sounding a bit too tired to go through a game of twenty questions. She pushed through her fatigue though, for the sake of informing a newbie about the workings of this place, “My owner is Fleur De Lis.”

“The model?!” This all was getting stranger by the minute, with more and more famous ponies being name dropped into having some involvement with this.

“Yeah… she hired The Society to capture me and train me as a slave. She was there the day I came in to examine me as her newest possession, and said ‘her Wonderbolts collection is growing’, or something. Guess that means that she’s trying to make my whole team into her slaves, for whatever reason.”

“That’s… wow…” Path was brought near speechless. Not only had members of The Wonderbolts been enslaved by a fashion model of all things, to the extent that they obeyed the mare and helped with the enslavement of other ponies, but it was an ongoing plot to eventually get them all!? That was crazy, and if he had not heard this under such dire circumstances he would have never believed it. It was just too out there to be true, sounding more like an attempt at erotic fiction than anything grounded in reality.

“A lot of ponies have been brought here this way, through friends that are already slaves, or being sent in the mail tickets to a resort that doesn’t exist, or under the promise of some business venture. If you ask any of the slaves here, you’ll get all kinds of stories about how they were tricked or taken in the middle of the night.”

Pathfinder noticed some other pegasi in the room hanging their heads in shame and despair, thinking back to how they themselves had come to this place. Path’s case was no different really. He was going on a vacation, he had informed all his friends and everypony in Vanhoover that he would be leaving for some time. All it would have taken is one of them to be a member of The Society, or a tamed slave, to have learned of the perfect opportunity to add him and his kelpie daughter to their collection like all the others they had held in their cages.

“Anyways,” High Winds said, picking up where she left off, “Like I said before, you’re better off just trying to rest for now. You’ll need a Society member to let you out of that cage, so until then you’re going nowhere. Trust me, plenty of us have tried before.”

“Fine…” Path said, relenting to the advice of this senior slave. If there truly nothing he could do for now, then perhaps sleeping would at least let time pass quicker. That is, if he could even get to sleep with the raging boner still pestering him from between his legs. Laying back in his straw bedding, he tried his best to push the want to touch and stroke it out of his mind, so he might get some moments of uninterrupted sleep.

Pathfinder didn’t have long at all to attempt to slip into slumber, as not even a minute after he laid down he heard the sound of a metal door opening beneath him, followed by the words “WAKE UP, YOU LAZY WORMS!” being yelled up to him from below.

With all this noise, Path’s eyes shot open. As did High Wind’s, as she let out a near silent groan and said “Already?” under her breath while getting up on her knees.

Pathfinder saw that she wasn’t the only one getting up from their sitting position, as the others in their cages likewise got close to their bars to kneel before them. Curious as to what, or more appropriately ‘who’ could be making them do this unified act, the stallion looked down to the ground floor beneath him.

There he spotted two tiny ponies, at least from his perspective, both mare pegasi from what he could tell, one a beige pony with brunette hair, and the other blue with an orange mane. The two of them quickly grew in size, flapping their wings to come up to where all the imprisoned ponies were.

“I expect to see perfect posture from all of you!” the blue one demanded of the slaves, causing some to reevaluate how they held themselves, and straighten up in the minute time they had before she arrived. “So how about it, Whiplash? See any that stand out to you?”

“I don’t know?” replied the beige mare, flying from cage to cage, looking over those inside as if seeking a puppy from a pet store. “I’m not even sure of whether I’m in the mood for a dick to tease, or a twat to torture yet. Perhaps I should get a better look at their assets.”

“You heard her, present yourselves to this esteemed member of The Society.”

Without a word of protest, the males in the room all scooted a bit forward, pressing their front against their bars, sticking their dicks through one of the gaps to give an unobstructed view of what they had to offer. Some who didn’t have rings like Pathfinder had to rub their crotches against the cages to coax their rods from their sheaths, but in the end they all stuck out proudly despite the shame exhibited on the faces of those who bore them.

The mares, on the other hand, did not press their chests through the bars, but instead turned around, got on all fours, and put their rumps against them. With legs spread and tails raised, both of the holes on all the enslaved females were on public display, a sight that pathfinder himself hated to admit made his own privates twitch with excitement. Even more so as he watched the mare called Whiplash fly from cage to cage, dipping her fingers into the awaiting slits, or stroking off a stallion’s cock a few times in some attempt to test the quality of the sex organs. For as terrible this situation was, it was also undeniably hot, at least for one who has had experience in BDSM, like himself.

As Whiplash went around violating the personal space of all these poor ponies, the other mare floated in spot in the center of all the cages, using her wings to hover at the same level as the highest cages. With arms crossed, the pegasus surveyed everything. She mostly kept to Whiplash, but occasionally shifted her vision to one of the prisoners, like she was the warden among a band of convicts. Pathfinder wasn’t the only one to notice when her eyes drifted away from her associate either, as it appeared that whenever they landed on somepony new, that pony would tense up in response. Even ones that Path thought were turned away from her would do this, like they could feel her attention hitting their bodies.

“Hey, you there,” she said out of nowhere, landing her sights on Pathfinder himself, “I don’t recognize you. Are you a newbie?”

Pathfinder didn’t know if he was suppose to answer that, but to be honest he didn’t want to answer it, so he didn’t. This wasn’t really the best move for him though, as it brought on the direct attention of the mare, who then flew down in front of him. Path wasn’t going to be intimidated by her though, so he just sat there, eyes locking with this blue mare’s with neither of them budging. That was until the mare decided to take measures into her own hands.

With speed that Path’s eyes couldn’t begin to track, she shot an arm into the stallion’s suspended cell. Before he could start to try reacting to the motion, her hand clamped down around his shaft, gripping right beneath his cockhead.

“I said...“ she begun, just before giving her wings a mighty flap while pulling back with her arm. With one of his most sensitive body parts firmly in the hand of this mare, Path found himself following her to avoid an immense amount of pain, only to end up face first into the bars with his shaft still having to endure a bit of improper tugging. “Are… You.. A.. Newbie!?”

“Yes!” Path yelled, wanting desperately for the mare to stop pulling his penis the way she was. As much as he liked a bit of bondage, he was never really the masochistic type, so this attention to his sex organs was not well received.

“What is your name, bitch?!” the mare shouted at him, flapping her wings so hard that she was able to pull his birdcage to a tilt using his dick as a handle.

“Pathfinder!” the stallion replied, caving easily at this kind of treatment. He should have known better after the spa room that those who were part of The Society had little concern for physical torture, or forcing something to happen if they wanted it to happen. If he could go back ten seconds in time, he would have just answered the question freely to avoid all this.

“What kingdom are you from?!”

“W-What?!” Pathfinder cried out shocked, clearly being Equestrian.

“What ain’t no kingdom I’ve ever heard of! Do they speak equine in What?”

Understanding his mistake in not answering her properly, Pathfinder rectified it quickly. “I’m from Equestria! I’m from Equestria!”

“Oh, so you’re from Equestria now? Then I suppose you can understand the words that are coming out of my mouth.” The blue mare flapped her wings harder and harder, looking as if she was trying to make the cage go fully horizontal with her efforts.

“Yes! Yes! I understand! I’m sorry! It won’t happen again!” Pathfinder practically screamed in fear that his dick might be torn off if this continued.

To his relief, the apology got the mare to release him, but that relief was only felt for a split second before he realized his cage was now swinging out of control. It went back and forth, tossing him about with it, and somehow ended up contacting with the chain to Hoop’s cage again. This time however, the male pegasus didn’t see the need to pick a verbal fight with the pony who caused his own prison to shudder. Not when seeing who that pony happened to be.

Pathfinder had to wait awhile for his own cage to settle and when it did the blue mare was still right there to met him. “Get on your knees and present it, bitch.”

Within seconds, Path changed the way he sat to match that of every other stallion in the chamber, now seeing why they took it without question. With a psychotic bitch like this as a guard, it was better not to rile her up just to maintain some bit of pride that wasn’t worth the pain it would cost you.

With everything settled, except for Pathfinder’s now aching dick, the pegasus guard directed herself back to the only other un-imprisoned pony in the room. “You figure out which one you want yet, Whiplash?”

“Not quite yet,” replied the beige pegasus while nonchalantly flicking the cockhead of a stallion who had to just stand there and take it, having paid no mind to anything her cohort had been doing, “To be honest Lightning, they all seem a bit… dull. You do too good a job turning these slave ponies into simpering submissives.”

“How could I call myself a trainer with a clear conscience if I didn’t whip these slackers into shape?” the mare said in what sounded to be a joke, though Path found nothing humorous about that, even if it got a giggle out of the other Society member.

Whiplash elevated herself up a bit more, ending up at the cage of High Winds. “What about this one? She is a Wonderbolt, right?”

“Yes ma’am, I am.” High Winds answered, pressing her firm rear even harder against her bars while lifting her tail high. “And like all the others, I’ve been trained to obey and submit to the will of my betters.”

“Hmph, useless.” Whiplash said, pulling away from the mare immediately I want somepony who's gonna put up a bit of a fight. Something I can personally break in and have some fun with.”

“Then you don’t want a pegasus.” said the mare called Lightning, “Lady Tourmaline has put me in charge of every slave with a set of wings, and I wouldn’t let a single one of them step out of line with me past day one.”

“Then what about this one?” Whiplash said locking her sights on Pathfinder.

“Fresh Meat?” Lightning questioned, creating a nickname for Pathfinder out of the blue. “Sorry, but one minute with me and he’s already too scared to try fighting.”

Pathfinder wanted to dispute that assumption, but his sore shaft made a strong argument for Lightning’s case as it stood on the opposite side of his cage than where he was.

“Hmmm, but he is cute though. Kneeling there, helpless, like a little scared bunny cornered by a predator.” Whiplash licked her lips, wondering if this girlish stallion had been tested out by any of the other members yet. She did so enjoy being the first one to try out whatever new equipment Schorl had brought in. “If I can’t get a pegasus who can put up a fight, then I’ll settle for him.”

“Eh, I would have went for the Wondercunt myself, but it’s your coin.” Adding a bit of a shrug to her words, Lightning pulled out a key and unlocked the cage door.

Pathfinder, noticing that she was going so far as to open the door, quickly backed away to the farthest point away from it as he could get. “Are you crazy?! I could fall out like that!” he said this, but just minutes prior to the arrival of the two mares he had been trying to get the door open on his own.

“Don’t you worry,” Whiplash said in a less than comforting tone, “We will make sure you and your flightless wings are safe.” The beige mare flew upwards, going all the way to the stone ceiling, and put her hands on a couple of grey bricks sticking out from it.

With the slightest of effort, the stone protrusions slid aside, and out from the holes they revealed came a set of chains. Like the ones holding the bird cages, these were incredibly long. Unlike them however, these ones ended in cuffs. Pathfinder was knowledgeable enough to know that the only purpose for those kinds of cuffs was to have them placed on his wrists. What they would be used for after that though, he was still unsure.

As expected, Whiplash came to him with chains in hand, stopping right in front of his open door. “Here,” she said bluntly, tossing the cuffs inside, “Put those on.”

Pathfinder watched the cuffs land in the straw covering the cage floor, and knew that he was going to be forced into them one way or another, but he still hesitated to even reach for them. As poor a position he was in, he didn’t want to just give in to every order given to him by his captors. That sentiment lasted about ten seconds though, as while he sat there looking at the shackles, he started to feel his cage slowly tilt forward.

“Oh no…” he whispered to himself, taking a quick peek behind him to see Lightning holding onto the back end of his cage, flapping her wings to slowly lift it up by that side. She was giving Path an ultimatum, and thus he rushed to get the shackles on before his time limit was up. All it took was a wrapping of the metal around his arms and a joining of their two ends to lock them into place. The clicking noise they made once shut told him they were secure, but in his panic he had to pull against the seams to insure they wouldn’t come apart. To his relief, it wouldn’t come apart. To his dismay, Lightning wasn’t stopping her progress on re-angling the cage.

“I got them on! I got them- WOAH!” The steady incline that Lightning was creating immediately became a sheer drop, spilling Pathfinder out of the cage. He tried to grasp onto something on his way out, but all he got were hands full of straw. Instinct kicked in next, and his wings kicked against the leather belts keeping them shut in order to spread out so he could fly, but the bonds on them were far too strong to break. With no way to stop himself, he plummeted.

Of course with the shackles attached to him, he didn’t fall too far before the chains drew tight, and his body was met with their tight grip keeping them held up against the forces of gravity. The force tugged painfully on his arms for a split second, before the momentum swung his body upwards briefly, putting Path into a light swing. Heart racing, arms sore from his entire body being forcefully weighed down on them, the stallion’s thoughts was filled with terror at what just happened to him. Pegasi could endure such a free-fall easily, mentally conditioned to take extreme drops in stride, but with his wings disabled he was no less vulnerable than an earth pony when it came to the fear of plummeting to your doom.

He was safe for now though, held aloft by the tight grip of his wrist bindings. That had to be the two mare’s plan all along, and he should have realized that they wouldn’t do anything to really harm him, but in the moment a pony doesn’t have the luxury of rational thought.

Now that his adrenal glands were settling down, he could better see that he was just as safe here dangling a dozen feet off the ground as he was in his cage. It’d simply be annoying if he hadn’t just tried to void his already emptied bowels seconds ago.

When he had gotten enough time to settle down, Path felt something force down on the top of his skull, a light but noticeable weight that compressed his neck into his body. Next thing he knew, he was staring into the upside-down face of Whiplash.

“Now wasn’t that exciting?” the mare said with devilish glee, “I doubt that you’ve ever had that much fun in… wherever a common pony like yourself came from.”

“You almost gave me a heart attack!” Path yelled, flailing his legs about to move himself and get the mare off his head.

Whiplash stayed ‘balanced’ though, and continued her taunt of the strung up stallion. “That’s good. That kind of fear gets the blood pumping. Keeps you active… alive. Right now, every part of you is moving at one hundred miles a second, trying to keep up with the danger around you, letting you perceive every important detail in hopes that there is some chance to escape.” With a push of her arm, Whiplash leapt off of Pathfinders head and twisted herself around in the air so that she got back right side up. “Which of course, there is none.”

Whiplash was right about that. At the moment his arms were practically useless, and he was floating in the middle of near empty air. He couldn’t even swing to any of the other cages to try to get some footing, because they were all distances and angles that put him just out of reach of them, which was probably something done on purpose.

“You’ll soon learn that when it comes to being a slave in The Society, you have no control over anything. Your body, your emotions, your thoughts. All of them are things that we guide to get out of you what we want.”

“And what exactly do you want?” Path asked, if only to get her to a point faster.

Whiplash’s evil smile widened, but she said nothing to the male pegasus. Instead, she reduced the pace of her wing flaps, making her sink downward in a slow descent. Pathfinder tried to follow her, but the collar on his neck restricted the extent in which he could tilt his head downwards.

So since he couldn’t follow her, he looked around to see what the other free mare in the room was doing, wondering where she had went after forcing him out of his cell. It took a few seconds to find her, looking all around, going from cage to cage to try and catch her harassing some other poor soul. He found no signs of Lightning around the other prisoners, no patch of blue nor strand of orange hair, but he did spot some of the ponies looking in an odd direction. They were looking above, moving their eyes as if to keep a watchful eye on something else going on.

Looking up himself, he spotted Lightning and what she was up to. She was near the ceiling messing with the bricks, as Whiplash had done before her. Perhaps they were going to drag another pony out to join him, or maybe-

Pathfinder didn’t have time to finish that thought, as his legs were suddenly pulled out from beneath him. Whiplash had come back from below, moving at a fairly fast pace, to snatch up Pathfinder by his hooves. With them in hands, she made no effort to stop, flying so high that it flipped the stallion upside-down as she had been earlier. Once more irrational panic set in, and he tried to fight against what was happening to him. Whiplash’s grip was fairly strong though, and she was able to hold on to him long enough to join with Lightning.

“Nice bracelets,” the blue mare said, commenting on his shackles, “But I think they need some matching accessories.”

Before finishing her taunt, Lightning was already placing a second pair of shackles onto his ankles, and with the same finalizing clicks that he had heard with the first pair, all of his appendages were now encircled by some form of bond. His neck in his collar, his arms and legs in the cuffs, his wings in their straps, and his cock in its ring.

“That looks so much better,” Whiplash said joyfully, beyond amused with the way she and Lightning were toying with this male.

Pathfinder on the other hand was getting further towards the irritated spectrum of his emotional scale. As it was, he really didn’t have control over anything in this, except how he felt about it, and what he felt was that the only way to not give these two what they wanted was to not play into their game. To deny them the satisfaction of seeing his fear, and instead give them cold indifference. With a bit of a huff, he folded his arms together, quietly awaiting what they were going to do next.

“My, my, look at him Lightning. Being all indignant. It’s adorable.” Whiplash said with babyish words.

“Stop it.” Pathfinder said back, being short with the mare in return.

“Stop what?” she replied mockingly.

“Everything you’re doing.”

“Everything?”

“Yes, everythi-” it quickly dawned on the stallion what he was saying, and the results that would come of it. “No wait, don’t!” he yelled, already uncrossing his arms as he reached for the chains around him, aiming for the closest part of it to the ceiling that he could reach.

“Okay then~” Whiplash sung, releasing Path’s ankles.

Feeling his legs released, Path closed his hands tightly in hopes to grab something, but his fingers only barely grazed the metal links as he fell again, the distance between the top of the room and him widening greatly until he was back to where he started, the chains going taut to hold him up while the sudden stop did hell to his arms and legs. They weren’t injured, as pegasi have rather light bodies and Pathfinder was smart enough to grab the chain links directly connected to his shackles after his first failed attempt in order to prevent his body from taking the full force of the impact, but they now ached something fierce under the strain.

Pained and unable to do pretty much anything save for small, ineffectual movements, Path looked straight up to the ceiling, his bonds suspending him horizontally with his body rocking back and forth as he hung limply with his stomach bent forward slightly. It wasn’t the worst way to be bound, the most terrible parts of it being that his entire being was being held up by his wrists and ankles. He could probably relax in such a pose once his joints stopped hurting from the fall. Then again, with him watching the two sadistic mares hovering above him he didn’t believe he’d be relaxing anytime soon, as they wouldn’t have gone through all this set up just to leave him hanging, now would they?

No sooner as his chains settled did the two mares make their move, lowering themselves down as gently as a feather in the wind. The two really enjoyed the attention they received from Path, no matter how negative it was, but of course that was the point. The dominant/submissive relationship was, in a manner, an equal attempt at getting attention from both sides. Both pouring everything they are into another to give and receive the kind of affection and dedication seldom found in a normal relation, though a union of absolute trust in one another.

At least that is what a normal relationship would be like between a slave and a master or mistress, in normal BDSM play where boundaries would be respected and rules would be in place to protect the submissive, as they were the one who by and large had the shorter end of the stick. Here, the entire point was power. The mares were not mistaken when they said that they had absolute control over what happened here. From the very start of their interaction, they had been exerting their will, and proving that Path could do nothing to prevent them from getting what they wanted from him. The more he struggled, the harder he fell into this system of power by giving more opportunities to enforce it. Same for if he didn’t struggle at all, as then he would be showing them that they were in complete control, and that he acknowledged that control as being absolute. In this game of enslavement, rape and domination, the deck would always be stacked in the house’s favor.

“Oh my, it looks like the slave didn’t really enjoy it when he got his way.” Whiplash said as she hovered directly above Path, noticing the pained grimace on his face caused by his stressed arm and leg muscles.

“Then perhaps he should keep his lips shut and let his masters decide what is good for him from now on.” Lightning added, lowering herself to his level to deliver a pinch on his cheek, pulling harshly on the flap of flesh.

“Would probably be for the best,” Whiplash agreed before ceasing her wing flaps, landing her rump down squarely on Pathfinder’s stomach, facing away from him. As the stallion let out a grunt of discomfort, she folded up her feathery appendages as a silent way of telling him that she wasn’t going anywhere soon.

“You get that, don’t you Fresh Meat?” said Lightning, releasing the Path’s cheek, “You’re gonna be a good little piece of dick from now on, right?”

Path closed his eyes and nodded, not wanting to further antagonize either mare for the sake of his own comfort.

“Then I’m outta here,” Lightning said heading to the ground floor, back to the door she came in from.

“Not going to stick around for the show?” Whiplash asked, watching her partner leave.

“I’ve got better things to do than watch two ponies fuck each other. Have fun with the bitch boy.”

“Okay, I will~” Whiplash said to the mare, maintaining a cheerful smile on her face until the moment of the door to the aviary came to a complete close. At the very sounding of the door going shut, Whiplash’s demeanor changed, and while Path couldn’t see her expression shift, the dull and dry way she said, “You fucking philistine” once she thought she was out of earshot spoke volumes.

This confused Pathfinder a little, as he had thought that the two were so incredibly in sync that they were close friends of some sort, but now it was implied that any such display of comradery was only surface deep. Not that he cared what his captors thought of one another, but he felt that maybe he could used this as a way to lessen the torture he was about to undoubtedly experience.

Whatever he was gonna do he have to think of fast though, as while he could not see it, he could feel Whiplash starting to target his dick with her hands. She was gripping it in her palm, squeezing it tightly with her fingers, and digging her nails into the vulnerable flesh of his privates

“So you don’t like her?!” he practically yelped in surprise. “Ahem, I mean… you both seemed to get along so well.”

Whiplash turned her head back to give a sideways glance to Path, hand remaining firmly clasped around his penis. “Are you condescending me?”

“No, of course not,” Path swore profusely as he felt the mare’s hand clench tighter, “But I’m new here and I don’t know a thing about how things work. For all I know, she could be a complete bitch, or-”

“Or I could be the complete bitch?” said Whiplash matter of factually.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Path replied, to which he was glad to feel the pressure on his shaft ease up a bit.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” said the mare. She then reached into the collar of the dress she was wearing, digging around her cleavage like she was looking for something. “Not unless you were looking to be castrated. I suppose it would be a good thing for you to know the social dynamic around here though.”

“I would be very grateful if you explained it to me,” Path was being a bit cowardly by sucking up to the mare this way, but with the fate of his dick in the hands of a sadist, he felt that no one could blame him for wanting to keep it intact.

“Very well, yes. Miss Blitz and I get along well enough. You have to understand though that I only get along with her as much as I would any of the staff.”

“The staff?”

“Unlike me, Lightning is not a member of the Society. She is a trainer.”

Path was kinda confused by what Whiplash said, and had to inquire further, “What’s the difference?” In a group called ‘The Equestrian Trainers’ Society’, the stallion would have figured being a member and a trainer was one in the same.

“The difference is, that while I am an elite member chosen by the organizations headmistress to have the prestigious title of ‘member’ and all the privileges that come with it. Lightning…” Before finishing her sentence, the mare finally pulled out from her bosom the item she was looking for. With a flick of her arm outward, Whiplash let be seen a small wand like object. “She just works here.”

Pathfinder gulped at the sight of the wand, identifying what it was. Being made of only a handle, a stick, and a row of rounded beads impaled through the center on it. The beads were small, a little smaller than a marble each, and they were spaced out with a few centimeter of space in between them. Being yet another thing he had encountered in the kinkier parts of his life, he had to endure the presence of such an item in the past. He didn’t know the name of the toy, or even if it had something so formal, but he knew what it was used for, which worried him greatly.

The mere sight of the object forced Path into flashbacks of the first, and only time prior that he had seen this thing. Some twisted creature in the form of a pony devised this infernal device and then somehow managed to make it a common tool in BDSM play. Anya even told Path that some stallions actually enjoyed what it was used for, but after trying once it he couldn’t for the life of him figure out how.

“Not that you need to know this, since everypony aside from the other slaves are higher up the totem pole than you, but there is a pecking order here that applies to everypony in the Society.” As Whiplash spoke, she directed her beaded stick to Path’s privates, circling it around his stallionhood like a vulture stalking prey, “It goes like this. There are members, then there are trainers, after that there’s the hunters, the minotaur guards, and lastly at the bottom of the barrel are all you slaves, with the trustee slaves only in a slightly higher standing than all the rest of you. A simple and easy to follow ladder of importance and privilege.”

“With Lady Tourmaline at the top, rig- ow!” Pathfinder felt the prick of something pointy graze one of the bulging veins on his dick. Seeing how it didn’t feel like a fingernail, it had to be the wand, telling Path that it had a rather pointy tip.

“Well of course Lady Tourmaline is at the top.” Whiplash said in a oddly chipper tone than it had been during this explanation of the Society’s social dynamic, “She is the head mistress, so that goes without saying. So much so that there is no point-” she pressed the tip of her wand against the stallion’s cock once more to express her meaning, before ending her sentence with, “If we never bring it up again.”

“Ok, I get it,” Path relented, seeing that this mare had issues with anypony being seen above her. Made him wonder if she felt the same about all of the ponies in the Society, and not just the ‘staff’.

“But aside for the members, and Lady Tourmaline, everypony else here is… second class at best. For some that’s fine. You never hear the minotaur or the gryphon’s complain so long as you toss a few coins their way. The trainers though, they sure do get swelled heads about what they do. Not that Lady Tourmaline doesn’t encourage that behavior by giving them full access to the facility and use of all the equipment. That’s for ‘training purposes’, of course, but when you see one in the lounge or in the spa room getting a massage in the next table over, you begin to ask where do standards come into place.”

“Do all the members feel this way?” Path asked honestly wondering why ponies would put up with this discrimination in a hostile environment, especially when the work they did was illegal and could get them in a lot of trouble if they were found out.

“No pony would really think a mere trainer was on par with a member, except maybe the trainers themselves. Sure, some members might hand out tips or the occasional glass of wine to their lessers, but its only to humor themselves, not because they believe they deserve it.”

“Hmmm…” Not having met any of the other members yet, Path couldn’t tell if this was true or personal bias. Not that it mattered to him either way, but it would be nice if The Society really was that dysfunctional. Might make it easier to escape than he first assumed.

As he started to picture fantasy scenarios wherein a riot was caused by some ill mannered Society member offending one of the ponies who seemed to do all the hard work for them, using the distraction to get both he and Scylla out of this place, a certain sensation brought itself to the forefront of mind. The pointy feeling had returned to his shaft, but this time it was not against the side of it. This time it was aimed at the tip of his penis, heading directly into its hole. Clenching his teeth and gripping the chains holding up his wrists, Path made muffled sounds of agony into his lips. He was hoping that he could make the mare have second thoughts about going through with her plans, but it seemed like she was dead set on this from the beginning.

With a solid, steady push, Whiplash guided the wand into Path’s hole. The sexual organ didn’t allow such an invasion of its internal space to happen easily, but the mare didn’t give it much choice to do anything other than give her access. Around the stick, around each orb, the tube that was Path’s urinal passage stretched to swallow it all.

The mare kept at her brutal shoving until the pointed tip made contact with the ring strangling his shaft, sending another new and sharp pain through his body, forcing a single bemoaned howl from Path’s lips. Not all of the object had made its way inside of him, as he could feel one of the spheres resting at his tip, hovering right outside his hole. He wished he could say the same for the ones that were inside him, as he could feel them vividly, each one pushing part of his male meat inwards while bulging out the thin layer of skin covering it outwards.

“It’s such an easy concept, ya know.” Whiplash said now that her bead wand was firmly secured in the place she wanted it to be, “Everypony and everything has a place that they are suppose to be in. A role they are supposed to fill. It’s so obvious that our very culture is built on a foundation of knowing and embracing one’s destiny.”

As Whiplash spouted off her pseudo-philosophical ideals, Pathfinder only responded with grunts and groans, not able to reply with anything more intelligible as the mare had taken to offhandedly twisting the tool in his cock left and right as she spoke.

Being interrupted as she was, Whiplash went on to say, “My cook knows his role is to prepare and serve me food. My chauffeur knows it’s his role to pull my cart. Even my dog understands it’s his role to shower me with affection. But here...?”

Whiplash paused for a moment, much to Path’s relief, but then gave her wand a particularly vicious twist, pulling the stick up as she turned it, just so she may jam it back inside Pathfinder with brutal force. This pulled out one last scream of suffering from the stallion, who’s entire sense of touch was now focused squarely onto what was happening to his poor, penetrated penis.

“Here we have an entire section of the staff who keeps trying to be where they don’t belong. It’s so bothersome.”

Whiplash gave her wings a flap, lifting herself from her stallion seat for a short moment to turn around and face Path directly. “But that’s why I do so enjoy you slaves. You each have a specific role to fill, and even if you believe you won’t slip into that slot we have picked out for you, you always do. Be it servant, slut, furniture, or pincushion, all of you submit and conform, just like a pony of your status should.

“P-please... “ Pathfinder say wincing, “Take i-it out.”

“Looks like you’re going to need a bit more training though before you become the kind of pain slut the sadists of this group enjoy, though.” For a moment Path wondered if that was the role Schorl had in mind for him, to be punished and tortured for the amusement of the members. As dreadful as that premise was, it was pushed completely out of his mind when the mare continued with, ‘But you’re more than pretty enough to please all the faggots with a femcolt fetish.”

That world shattering revelation hit Path like a steam train, with it being a much more possible reality for him since he had already been violated in such a way. Schorl could actually make him some guy’s fuck puppet, maybe go as far as to drug him up more to force him to be pleasured while being raped by males in some attempt to train him into liking it.

Seeing the fear on Pathfinder’s was enough to satisfy Whiplash, and the mare lifted herself off him for one final time so she may begin her descent down to the ground, a delighted smile plastered on her face from this sadistic endeavor.

Path caught what she was doing though, and wasn’t about to just let her go with himself left the way he was. “H-hey! Aren’t you going to put me back in the cage?!”

“No need,” Whiplash replied, “You’re perfectly secure right where you are.”

“Then at least take that stick out of my dick!”

“Ah, ah, you must remember you’re place. It’s not right for a pony of your insignificant stature to demand a pony like myself anything,” she said, touching down on solid ground, “I’ll send some of the help to remove it when I get the chance.”

“Oh for the love of Celest-”

“It shouldn’t take more than a few hours… so long as I don’t forget.”

Before Pathfinder could make any more protests, the mare made her way out of the door, slamming it shut behind her. Now Pathfinder was stuck, stranded in midair, his dick twitching in reflex to its intruder, which only made things worse. However long it took for him to get out of this predicament was up to the people who ran and utilized this place, and he had no reason to believe they would help him anytime soon.

"You alright down there?" he heard from above, High Winds calling down to him now that all who were left in the rooms were slaves.

"I've been better!" Path yelled back, bluntly honest about his situation. "This really freaking hurts!"

"Yeah... I can see that. I really wish I could help you out of that but-"

"I got it. You're in no better position to get me out of this than I am."

"If you want, I can at least keep you company. Keep your mind of things, if that's even possible."

"I... I'd like that." Path said, noting that this was more than a mere gesture from the mare. She was saying that she was going to sacrifice any chance of sleep she had to comfort him in his time of need, and that was something he could appreciate. It comforted him to know that while his time in The Society might be the worse thing he would ever have to go through, he wouldn't have to go through it alone.

Author's Notes:

And here we are getting back with Pathfinder and seeing what's going on with him. The story is going to be structured a bit like this from now on, where we will go back and forth from Scylla and Pathfinder to see how they both experience The Society. Of course with one being a minotaur's personal breeding mare and they other a general purpose slave, their treatment is bound to be different from one another, and hopefully will be equally interesting.

As per usual, For those who are unfamiliar with the canon pony cameos of this chapter, here are images for both Hoops and High Winds, (Though I beleive the Society would go out of their way to make Hoops look more like his colt form, because he is much cuter with his hair parted to show his eyes ).

Anyways, hope you all enjoy the chapter. Have a nice day.

Debut: Part One

“Hrk! Hun! HRRRMM!!!”

A string of unintelligible noises came from the mouth of a certain young kelpie, her mind being overwhelmed by a constant rush of intense pain being delivered to her from the minotaur taking her from behind.

Her master, the minotaur who had won her in a game of chance, had her on her hands and knees atop a wooden platform. His pole-sized shaft was already deep inside her, far enough that his tip was firmly pressing against the walls of her womb, with a thrust of his hips grinding the length of his bullhood against her tightly stretched cervix. When he moved, she felt every bit of that movement, her insides clutching around the minotaur like a form fitting glove, being stuffed so full that she didn’t have a choice to do otherwise.

Another choice taken from her was the ability to run from this brutal fucking, as her head was kept snugly within the confines of a stockade directly attached to the platform holding her up. Trapped between two sturdy wooden boards, there was no possibility to fight or flee, leaving her only with the option to endure.

This event had unfortunately become routine for the aquatic mare, happening to her time and again since her enslavement. As Schorl had explained, there were plenty of opportunities for the minotaur to ensure that each of their slaves would get impregnated, and it appeared like they never missed a chance to make use of their captives.

“How is breakfast coming along, my broodmare?” the minotaur said to Scylla, referring to the large container of sloppish substance placed right beneath her muzzle.

Scylla couldn’t answer that question for several reasons, first being that she hadn’t even tasted it yet. The second being that she was too busy trying to remain conscious as she went into what was her fourth unwanted climax since the meal was presented before her. A massive wash of pleasure filling her being in between bouts of sexual agony, momentarily clouding away all that hurt before it faded away. A small reprieve of bliss that took her senses away from the nightmare for a few seconds before another painful thrust dragged her back into it.

Giving out a throaty moan of equal parts dismay and gratification, the sound of the minotaur’s conquest joined with several other similar moans, as Scylla and her master were by no means alone for this early morning meal. The rest of the ‘Elements of Servitude’, as they had been named by Schorl, and their masters were accompanying them. The other five were lined up next to the kelpie on either side, on hands and knees atop the same platform, heads trapped in the same wooden contraption that formed an extra large pillory, sharing the same breakfast from the same troughish container.

“Your fish mare still having trouble adapting to your girth?” asked a bull who was fucking his bat mare, alternating between being hilt deep and having a quarter of his dick exposed from her snatch, “You indeed got a fragile female if she can’t reply to your question with a simple yes or no. Not like my Nightshade. She knows that even overwhelming pleasure doesn’t excuse rudeness.”

The minotaur cracked his palm across the flank of the thestral, making her reply with a sharp squeal, slightly muffled from the food she was stuffing into her mouth. Gulping it down quickly, she more properly replied by saying, “It’s only because my master taught me well. With his guidance, I’m the best breeding mare I ca- UUHGRBLE!!!” Nightshade’s words were interrupted by a mind blanking climax, biology responding to the stimulation she was receiving by releasing a flood of chemicals that made her whole body collapse under its own weight, her arms and legs not receiving any mental commands to encourage them to continue holding her torso up any longer. The look on her face, bearing a pair of half closed upper eyelids and a quivering smile that allowed a bit of drool to escape it’s opening into the food substance beneath her, was an undeniable expression of pure pleasure.

“Seems like your slave isn’t as well trained as you’d like to believe either.” said the oldest minotaur in the bunch, the one who owned the pegasus, Blue Yonder, “But that’s not a bad thing, really. I’d rather a woman react to my efforts, than to treat it like a leisurely walk in the park.” The slightly greyed minotaur took a moment to halt his own thrusting to put his hands on the dark blue rump of his mare, admiring its fullness by gently rubbing the plump meats. “In fact, Rubric might just be better at pleasing women than you.”

The other minotaur snorted in a huff before grabbing the batmare by the waist. Exerting minimal effort, he leveled her now limp body to the angle it was before it gave out. “What does an old timer like you know about pleasuring a slave? A bull your age is done after the first shot.”

Several of the other bulls got a decent chuckle at the expense of the older male, as did he himself. The comment was little more than good natured ribbing, one coming from a not really serious stereotyping of age. Still, he wasn’t going to take such a statement without rebuttal. “That might be the case,” he said, moving one of his hands to Blue Yonder’s tail, so that he might lift it up and direct its end towards the front of her body, “But there is more to bringing a woman to bliss than the power behind one’s hips.”

With Blue Yonder’s tail up as it was, the hole underneath it was exposed for all to see. Knowing that the hole itself has kept devoid of any substances through use of decomposition gel and the special food they fed the slaves designed to minimize waste, the minotaur had zero reservations in pressing his index finger against Yonder’s back passage, giving the pegasus a moment to realize what was about to happen before penetrating the tight sphincter with his unlubricated digit.

“It is also how you play with their bodies. How you treat every spot of their bare flesh with equal attention, never allowing any area to become used to being teased or used. Sure, you can just fuck a woman into a stupor, but you can’t appropriately break a slave to your will that way. Once you break down their resistance, get them to love your touch and only your touch, only then do they truly belong to you.”

As the older minotaur gave his wisdom out to those younger than he, Blue Yonder was busy burying her face in the mush that was her food. She wasn’t at all hungry, already reluctantly swallowing enough to serve as an appropriate meal, but she wanted to prevent herself from making any sounds that could be mistaken for enjoyment. Not wanting to give her owner the satisfaction, she chose to muffle her voice in the slop as her fleshy ring was finger fucked by a digit that was only slightly smaller than an average stallion dick. The dry, clinging presence of it, coupled with the even larger dick still stuffed deeply within her most private of areas, were both giving her feelings that she would rather not have others see her admit to unwillingly, despite every other mare pretty much experiencing those exact feelings as well. It was the one time she appreciated the straps holding her wings closed, as without them her physical enjoyment of this treatment would be easily identifiable.

“You all talk about pleasuring your women like it actually matters,” said Jupiter, the unabashed bastard of the group, “We are not here to make these weaker creatures happy. They are here to serve us and carry our young, like females should.” He emphasized his viewpoint by releasing his jism inside his guard mare slave, pumping so much cum into her body that she plumped out at the womb. This distortion of her normal proportions made Midnight utter an elongated groan of discomfort, as Jupiter had a way of making any experience with him horrid. Certainly the earth pony had placed herself into the worse position out of the six.

“Well not all of us adhere to ‘Masterism’ like you do.” commented Cestus, pulling out of Gabriella, having poured his own load into her already.

With the removal of his shaft, all he had shot into the gryphon rushed to escape through the now unobstructed passage, coming out in an explosive torrent. As violently as it was, Gabby could show nothing but relief from the removal of pressure from within her body. Its absence was in itself a pleasurable event, the difference between having to endure a constant pain reverting to normality in itself causing a rush of good feelings.

The guttural gasping moan that escaped her beak as the white slime flowed out of her pussy told Cestus that he had done a fairly good job with making the sex good for his slave, even if the best moment of it came when it stopped. “Besides, what does a minotaur like yourself hope to gain from living with a female who hates being around you?”

“It’s not a matter of wanting their scorn or affections. It is the satisfaction of making them know that you are in absolute control. That they are powerless and will never escape your collar, no matter how much they despise it. There is no better thing in life than hearing the lamentation of a woman.” With that, Jupiter pulled out of his slave as well, not even allowing his semen to settle inside the mare, a gesture that made the other bulls believe he cared little about the objective of impregnating his mare, but was using the sex as a means to bring more pain to her.

“Younglings these days…” said the oldest minotaur, “Far too many of you have gained this cruel mindset. I wish I could say I didn’t know where you got it from…”

“But you know quite well where it comes from, Master Longinus.” The group all turned their head to the source of the comment, Minotaur and slaves alike, or at least the ones coherent enough to notice someone else was in the room with them. Who they saw was Xenia, the doe that was widely in charge of the operations of the other enslaved deer as well as monitoring the health health of the six Elements.

“But I think what’s important is that Master Jupiter is doing his part to propagate the minotaur race, no matter what his approach to it is,” she continued, clearly kissing up to the minotaur most likely to punish her if she said something he didn’t agree with. “But if you don’t mind, I’m here to check on my six favorite patients.”

The deer approached the front of the pillory, inspecting over the six trapped slave girls and their current expressions, making notes on a clipboard she held as she passed by each one. “And how were their morning viola- I mean, preparations? Anything not to your liking? Any more adjustments needed?”

“Yeah,” Jupiter blurted out, the first to express any dissatisfaction. “This mare’s cunt loosened up again. Have her re-tightened.”

“Master Jupiter, we’ve reverted her vaginal area twice already this week. I fear that she’s never going to stay as tight as you want it with the way that you treat that hole.”

That made Jupiter laugh, “No shit. I just like the scream she makes when I take her cunthole that way. Really brings out that weak and pathetic mare she tries to hide deep down inside.”

“Very well,” Xenia said, flipping through her pages to mark down the requested adjustment for Midnight, “I’ll add another tightening session to your tab.”

Jupiter snorted at that last bit, but knew that there was a price to pay for his ongoing amusement with his earth pony bitch. Without another word, he left the room, leaving behind the mare he had just ravaged without mercy.

“Anyone else need a few alterations? Breast size augments? Lactation modification? Maybe you’d like their pussies to be a bit wetter to ease penetration even further?”

“Actually,” said the elder minotaur, finishing his own supplementary insemination of Blue Yonder, “I was thinking of having this one’s sensitivity increased.”

“Why of course Master Longinus. What part would you like enhanced? The pussy? The ass? Breasts? Perhaps a full body augment?”

“No, no,” He said pulling out, creating yet another mess that some Society slave would have to clean up later, “All her sexual spots are responsive enough already. But I was thinking that some adjustments to her throat might do nicely.”

“Ah, you’re looking for some elasticity there so she can swallow your dick?” The deer asked, already jotting down some notes for what she assumed would be the minotaur’s order.

“Nothing that extreme,” Longinus corrected, “I want to add a bit of sensitivity there. Enough to spark arousal whenever that part of her is being touched by anything other than her collar. So she might have something to think about when she’s eating or drinking when I’m not around.”

“Ah, so you want to turn her esophagus into a fuck hole, but don’t intend to fuck it yourself.” Xenia said, quickly crossing out her hastily written note to make way for the proper instructions to Blue Yonder’s adjustments.

“You could put it that way,” The minotaur replied, “Though I do intend on getting a lot of use out of those lips and her tongue later on, once she settles into her role a little more.”

Blue Yonder, like the rest of the girls, was far too out of it to give any kind of response. Still reeling from the ravaging of her vaginal passage, recovery was the only thing on her mind, with said hole flinching in pain as it slowly closed back to its normal size, added by the chemicals The Society kept her full of to allow her to go through such a pounding with minimal damage done to her being as possible.

“And anything else? There are still plenty of things we can do to make these ones more to your likings.”

Many of the other minotaurs passed, content with what they had already. However, there was one last request to be made by the one that owned Scylla. Grabbing her thick tail at the base, an action that likewise grabbed Scylla’s attention as the bull lifted it up so the deer could see it.

“I want this changed,” he sternly said to the doe.

“And what exactly is wrong with it, Master Rubric?” Xenia inquired, coming over so she might be better informed on the issue.

“I’ve been having to avoid holding it during sex,” he told the deer, squeezing the appendage just tight enough to get a pained sound out of the kelpie as every muscle she had tensed up, “Its too sensitive, with anything but the slightest touch hurting her.”

Scylla internally protested against that assumption, as her tail could be touched without it hurting, even if moderately gripped, but the minotaur was never not harsh with the way he handled her. All interactions were rough, to the point that it was a wonder he didn’t leave her with bruises. These minotaurs were incredibly brutish, even to those who cooperated completely to their whims.

“So you’re wanting me to desensitize it?” Xenia questioned, “That’s easy enough, but that might be problematic for her later on.”

The minotaur shook his head, “Not desensitize it, but make it so it doesn’t feel pain. The thing goes all over the place when I use her body, so I need to be able to hold it steady. If it is so tender to the touch though, it would be better if it participated in some way to the sex.”

“Ah, you want her to scream in pleasure instead of pain. With a bit of chemical therapy we can correct the nerves there to respond more pleasantly to your masculine touch. It will take some time however.”

“Whatever it takes to have it done,” said the minotaur as he cast the appendage aside, forcing Scylla’s body to shift in the direction he had offhandedly tossed it.

“As you wish, Master Rubric.” The doe responded, giving the minotaur a respectful bow, holding it while the bull walked past her and out the room’s exit after his fellow bovine males. Only when he was out of sight did she break it. “Well girls, one week in and I have to say you’re all holding up well. No major injuries, no permanent marks or scars, and that’s saying a lot for how you’ve been treated, Midnight.”

The six girls ignored the commentary of the deer, some actually occupying themselves by eating their presented food now that they had a chance to focus on it. Scylla herself was scarfing down as much as possible, having already learned that refusing a meal only left a mare with a rumbling and angry tummy later, and that further stubbornness would have it force fed to you via a tube that would shoved down that stubborn pony’s throat, with Midnight to thank for revealing that particular punishment. Xenia had explained when they were first given the slop that even though it didn’t taste too good, it was filled with vitamins and minerals needed to keep pregnant mares healthy. Seeing as they wanted to have her and the others as breeding stock, it was simple enough to conclude that the food was at the very least nutritious.

As Scylla ate her food like some sort of farmyard animal, Xenia assembled a crew of other deer to assist her with the after-mating clean up. They made short work of the mess the minotaurs made, cleaning the six slave girls of sweat along with the gallons of sperm they spilled out of their holes. With a dozen deer and about fifteen minutes the room was returned to its pre-orgy status, moving on to releasing the breeding mares from the device they were entrapped in.

All it took was the removal of a few locks and a lifting of the upper part of the pillory to simultaneously free the group. Necks no longer held, each of the girls sat themselves up to stretch their stiff joints and muscles, having been on their hands and knees for a while. It was all part of morning preparations at this point, with six prior days of experience allowing routine to set in.

Now released, Scylla deviated a bit from this ritual. Knowing what her master had planned for her, she felt the urge to hold her tail in comfort. She didn’t know what would come of having a part of her body changed in such a way, or what part that would play in her slave training. To her, it sounded like he was saying ‘I’m going to hurt you, and you’re gonna like it”. She pitied the abuse her poor tail would probably go through when that was done, but that thankfully sounded like it was a long time away for now.

“Is everything alright?” Xenia said to Scylla, lifting an eye from her notes when she saw one of the initiate slaves hugging one of their body parts.

“It’s… nothing…” Scylla said in resignation, knowing that here opinion didn’t matter when it came to the wants of her owner, and even less so when discussing it to another slave.

“Hmmm…” Xenia said, giving the kelpie a look of concern as she continued to jot things down on the paper in her hands. “If there’s something wrong, I would suggest that you speak with your master about it. You might be surprised at what comes of it.”

Scylla released her tail hastily after hearing the doe’s suggestion, “I said it’s nothing.” She wasn’t about to try and argue with her owner about this personal matter, as she felt the only surprise that would come of it was just how purple her backside would be if she tried to tell him no.

“Suit yourself,” Xenia replied, sending her nose back to her notes, “I’ll not say another thing of it.”

“Thank you…” Scylla said, now a bit angry as well as depressed. Thankfully it seemed she was still allowed to have outbursts and mood swings when they were directed at someone of her same status.

“That being said, I would suggest that you and Charming Tale make yourselves ready.”

What Xenia said slipped past Scylla, her mind on more pressing matters at the moment, but was more easily picked up by the unicorn of the group, Charming Tale. “What do we need to get ready for?” she asked, not seeing herself as going any slower than the others, thus not worthy of any scolding.

“For your debut into your new role as entertainers for The Society.”

All six of the girls froze for a moment, then shot a look in the direction of Xenia.

“Wait a second!” yelled Nightshade, “Why do they get to go first!?”

Blue Yonder followed that up by saying, “Not that I’m in a rush to be treated more like a sex object than I already am, but I’m also wondering why them and not somepony else.”

“Don’t ask me,” Xenia said while taking a moment to make sure the other deer has done a satisfactory job in their cleaning efforts, “Lady Tourmaline just sent me a memo to make sure that both Scylla and Charming Tale were ready and prepared to interact with the members today. So while the rest of you are in your training classes, or in Midnight’s case being adjusted for the third time this week, they will be in the company of some of Equestria’s finest.”

Scylla didn’t know whether to be relieved that she was missing training, or worried she would be in the presence of the members. The training was hard, degrading, and sometimes hurtful work that put her through many different aspects of her new life of servitude. Scylla would be toyed with by some pony who would bind her up and use all sorts of strange sex toys on her. She’d have her butt paddled till it was good and sore, or made to wrap her lips around an extra large phallic object poking at the back of her throat as it stretched her jaw. The only times that it wasn’t like that was when the kelpie was being taught proper slave etiquette, like not looking a dominant in the eye, speaking only when directly spoken to, or to keep her posture straight while always bowing her head down.

Avoiding all that for a day after a week of round the clock education would be great, but then again she had been trained this way for the members. Would they treat her the same way? Would they treat her worse? These answers would only come from experience, but perhaps they were answers she could do without.

A short while later, the six were collected and separated to be taken to their individual destinations, with only Charming Tale going with Scylla as stated, while the others were off for another day of bondage and sexual training. The one that came to retrieve the two mares was Schorl’s personal assistant, Mi Jin, paired with two minotaur guardsmen. Scylla and Charming Tale had encountered the Kirin before, as she would sometimes be there when Schorl would show up to get a review of the progress the six slaves had made, but Scylla knew very little of the scaled mare save that she acted very professional.

“You are to take nothing unless given to you,” Mi Jin said, handing out another instruction in a long list of them that she had been saying from the moment she joined with Scylla and Charming, “You will answer every question asked of you truthfully, and while you are going to be granted the ability to speak freely, it is advised you don’t insult or sass the patrons of The Society. Also note that compliments towards the guests are appreciated by them, as are inquiries about how things work in the Society, as the members enjoy it when they are given an opportunity to teach slaves. Makes them feel smart.”

Mi Jin spoke these instructions as she lead the two girls through the halls of The Society, a large maze of paths and corridors that seemed difficult to navigate. Scylla herself was easily lost within it, with the amount of twist and turns they made, the kelpie swearing that at one point they had made four right turns in a row. She had walked them quite a few times by now, but this was the first time she was able to see the luxurious layout of them, draped in many expensive looking decorations. Before this, she always wore a blindfold, which made it impossible to memorize how to get from one location to the next, a clearly intentional thing done to prevent escape attempts.

“Since this is your first day in one of the showrooms, you’re not expected to perform or provide services to any of the members.” Mi Jin went on to say, “This is only to allow customers to know that you and, by association, the other Elements of Servitude exist. Should they take notice of you and enjoy what they see, then you might start receiving requests for your use. If not, then we will have to put your bodies on more active display in some stage performances, which I will say now will be much worse than if your time is purchased for a private session.”

“So you’re saying that it’s in our interest to make ourselves desirable.” Charming Tale said, very astute as to how Society lingo implied punishment from failure to live up to the standards they wanted from their slaves.

“Yes, as the more money you make for your owner, the more they might be inclined to give you breaks and time off from your duties. Remember, your scheduling is always handled by your master, and The Society’s part in that are only suggestions made by Lady Tourmaline. So unless your master is particularly cruel and uncaring, then they will certainly grant such rewards to those who deserve them.”

“Then I guess Midnight is fucked then,” Charming joked, managing to get the two minotaurs following behind to laugh at the comment, clearly aware of who Jupiter was and how he behaved.

“I’d say Miss Midnight brings a lot of her misfortune on herself,” Mi JIn said, giving her own observations, “But Master Jupiter’s motivations might not help either. Of the lot of you, those two might be the most incompatible, while being the most made for one another. Jupiter couldn’t have gotten a better slave for his style of dominance.”

“How true,” Charming Tale agreed, “Their personalities oddly compliment one another.”

Scylla stayed silent as the two mares had this strange conversation. The way they talked about another pony’s misfortune and suffering was like two mares gossiping about an average couple. Maybe this wasn’t so odd for Mi Jin, who had been a slave for who knew how much longer than Scylla, but Charming Tale’s adaptation to this was not as understandable. While most of the others acted like what Scylla would expect from abductees, with anger, indignance, or at least timidness, the unicorn was far more accepting and visually comfortable as a slave than one would think a week should allow her to be.

“Let’s get back to task here,” said the kirin, “We’re approaching our destination, and I need to be sure you both will do as your suppose to and not cause trouble.”

“Relax,” Charming reassured, “All we have to do is walk in there, show off our bodies, and put ourselves out there without actually putting out. That’s easy enough, if you ask me.”

“I suppose we’ll see,” said Mi Jin, “But our members have very particular tastes. Don’t think that acting like a slut will entice all of them, if any of them.”

“Don’t worry about us,” Charming said, wrapping an arm around Scylla to pull her close, “I’m sure we can handle it, right Scylla?”

“R-right...” answered the kelpie, having no real input on this conversation she was suddenly dragged into.

“At least you’re confident, and good thing too. We are here.” The small entourage of equines and bovines came to a set of dark wooden doors, behind which awaited the depraved and perverse slavers that made up The Society. “Wait here for a moment. I’m going to give a brief introduction and then bring you both in.”

With that the kirin slipped through the doors, letting them close behind her. In the few seconds that they were open, Scylla was able to hear music and a slew of voices from within, but now that they were shut again she only heard silence. There was no telling what was going on in there, and thus no telling what would happen to her when she got in there. Why is everything in this place designed to make me more nervous? She thought to herself, shaking with fearful anticipation.

“So what’s the plan once we get in there?” Charming asked an unfocused Scylla, “Are we gonna stick together and use our combined charm to wow them, or do you want to split up and go solo?”

“Huh?” Scylla said, hardly catching any of that, “I suppose whatever you want to do is fine.”

Charming hummed at the kelpie, catching on to how disquieted she was. It was something she probably should have detected sooner, but she was busy mingling with Schorl’s secretary. “Pardon me, but it’s Scylla right?”

Scylla nodded in reply, not taking offense that Charming had to ask.

“Well then Scylla, this is going to be a really stupid question, but… What’s wrong?”

Charming was right, that was a pretty stupid question all things considering, but not wanting to be rude the kelpie answered the unicorn. “Everything is wrong.” she started, fighting back tears, “I’ve been kidnapped and raped, I’m probably pregnant, my father’s been taken away, and now I’m going to be paraded in front of a bunch of rich bastards so they can decide if they want to rape me later.”

“You poor dear…” Charming pulled Scylla into a hug, the aquatic mare’s shoulder slipping between the pink mare’s cleavage, “This must be terrible for you. You seem like such a meek pony, and this sort of stuff can’t be good for your stress levels.”

Scylla’s lips curved downwards, forming a solid frown on her face, “I just don’t know what to do… I know I shouldn’t just cave and give up, but I’m not strong like Blue or Midnight. I can’t keep a strong stand against people who keep abusing me.”

Charming could tell the other mare was going to break down and cry if she didn’t do something. Seeing how she was behaving, it was likely not the first time she would have since coming to the Society. She knew though that if Scylla did that, and walked in with tears on her face, it would be over for the girl. Any sadist in the room seeing Scylla distressed and distraught would smell blood in the water, painting a target on her that would never go away as long as she was stuck here.

Problem was that this wasn’t exactly her area of expertise, and even now she was finding it hard to comfort the girl. She wasn’t exactly a ‘people pony’, having her own issues when it came to dealing with others in general. Her occupation hardly had her talking to others, save for her boss, and she really preferred it to be that way. Charming wasn’t anti-social, more socially awkward and introverted. Just holding Scylla like this took a bit of effort on her part, and the way she had talked to Mi Jin earlier was a trick she learned to do when having to confront others. Starting the conversation, sticking to a topic the other pony would be interested in, and presenting a generally positive attitude no matter how the conversation went. This was a trick she believed could work with Scylla as well.

“Believe me, I understand exactly what you’re going through. This place scares me just as much it does you, but I have a little trick that keeps me in high spirits. Want to know what it is?”

“What?” Scylla asked, curious as to what anypony could do to not fall into depression in this dismal place.

“Well…” Charming looking back a moment to the minotaur behind her, noticing that they had moved a little bit away, not needing to be right next to the two mares to make sure they wouldn’t run away now that they were stuck between them and a door. Charming herself didn’t really care if the minotaur were five feet or five yards away, but turning her head in that direction made Scylla do the same, getting her to see how far away as well.

With their range confirmed to the kelpie, Charming engaged in part two of her plan. Using the arm she already had wrapped around Scylla’s body, Charming bent her associate forward, hunching over as well as she got real close to Scylla’s ear. “Okay, but we gotta make sure they don’t hear us. Who knows what they would do if they figured out such an important secret.”

With such importance attributed to what the pink unicorn had to say, Scylla was instantly hooked. No matter how skeptical she might have been that anything could change her mood as long as she was in The Society, when treated as if it were one of the Equestria’s most guarded secrets she had to know.

“So what is the secret?” Scylla asked in earnest, eager to know.

Charming got really close to the mare’s ear to whisper into it, giving one last glance back to the guards. As expected, they really weren’t too interested in the antics of two slaves. As long as they stayed put, the mares could talk and mess around all they wanted. This was good for Charming, as she didn’t need them cutting in and making Scylla all the more scared.

“Whenever I have to be around any of the trainers or the guards, and they make me scared, I just picture them naked.”

“What?!” Scylla said in surprise, not having expected that to be the unicorn’s solution. Of course she had heard of this alleged method of dealing with one’s nerves before, but she thought that it only applied to stage fright. It was so bizarre that Charming would suggest the same thing to deal with sexual abuse too. The more she thought about it, the more she felt it was a silly thing to say. So silly that as the seconds passed by she found herself snickering, then giggling, then finally giving out a decent sized laugh.

Charming let Scylla go, happy with the results she achieved. Of course she didn’t believe that picturing their rapists naked would make them feel better. Such a notion would be entirely absurd. Absurdity was the cornerstone of humor though, and what Scylla really needed was a laugh. Something to break through that depression, and allow the kelpie to smile again after all she had been put through.

“Feeling better?” Charming asked, already assuming the answer was yes.

“A little bit,” answered Scylla, getting that this whole thing was just a joke now that she was struggling to hold in her emotions, “It does feel good to laugh.”

“Good, then I’ve done my job,” Charming said with a smile, making conscious decisions to do so in order to keep Scylla from relapsing.

“But...” Scylla said, sobering up from the joke rather quickly, “How do you really keep from getting depressed in a place like this? About the only other person who acts close to what I do is Gabby. I can tell that Blue and Midnight are just putting on a brave face for the rest of us, and we all know that Nightshade has been brainwashed, but what about you? Aside from looking nervous the first time I saw you, you’ve seemed to be ok with all this. How doesn’t this bother you?”

“I suppose it just comes with my profession.” Charming said offhandedly.

“Your profession?” Scylla asked, wondering what kind of job could get somepony used to being enslaved and impregnated against their will.

“Yeah, I’m a writer,” the unicorn explained, “I create stories for a small book publishing firm that caters to ponies with special interests.”

“Books that involved slavery… and rape?”

“Yeah…” Charming said, rubbing the back of her mane as her shyness returned slightly. It was never easy to explain what she did for a living, “Though I suppose you say I put a romantic twist to the whole thing. Like, I’ll write a story where the princess of some fictional land has her kingdom overtaken by some dark lord. As part of this, he keeps her as his personal slave and forces her to do things for him. Sing songs, feed him fruit by hand, and have lots of sex. Some ponies really eat that kind of stuff up, especially if the princess ends up falling in love with her captor and enjoying the way he treats her.”

Scylla was surprised to hear that. Not because she thought it was strange that a pony would be into that kind of stuff, but because she was a pony who was into that sort of stuff. From the very beginning she compared her situation to those kinds of books, because she had quite a few books of that nature stashed away in her room back home, except real and terrible when the books were made up and thrilling.

“Y-You… w-write about mares getting raped?” she nervously asked, shocked by this information, but curious about such a pony.

“Not always mares,” Charming clarified, “Sometimes I’ll put a stallion with some evil mare and give him the slave treatment. And it’s not always some tyrant on top either. I like to change it up a lot. Sometimes it will be something like one pony being stalked by a love sick stalker who decides to make their obsession theirs by force. Other times I’ll have a royal guard get caught during an investigation by some gang of ponies who wants to teach them a lesson. Other times I’ll have the antagonist slip a love potion into some chocolates and hand them out around a town just to see the results. And other times I just write something romantic with a slavery theme to it, because I just like the topic.”

“Do you mind if I ask you one more thing?” Scylla said, now seeing that this erotic writer has been into this sort of stuff for a while, and didn’t really seem ashamed of any of it. Honestly, she had never talked to any pony so openly about being attracted to those kind of erotic tales. Not even the pony who sold her such novels, because Scylla found it embarrassing enough to buy them in the first place.

“Go for it.” Charming replied, once more showing no inhibitions towards the topic. If anything, she acted somewhat pleased to talk about the subject.

“What got you into that sort of stuff?” This was a question that Scylla asked herself often, as things like bondage and dark erotic fantasy was certainly not something a normal pony should enjoy. Yet when she stumbled upon her first story of the type, one of some rich stallion luring an unsuspecting mare into a life of sexual servitude, where said stallion treated the mare in question like property, demanding everything from her while giving little in return than mere attention, it triggered something inside her. She never understood why though, and questioned it even more when put in a similar situation.

“Well… I suppose it all started a while back. Being a writer, I was naturally drawn to reading. I use to read all kinds of books and one day I found my way into the romance section of the town library. I might have been a bit young for those kind of books at the time, but it was so far in the back of the building that no pony really noticed. From there I just eventually discovered the whole ‘slave and master’ stuff on my own, and from there I kinda just started writing my own stuff. Started off with a few stories using ideas from things like the Power Ponies, or having Starswirl do some kinky stuff with some of the villains he historically defeated, or had Princess Celestia in the hands of some dark and dashing evil prince.”

“That sounds interesting.” Scylla commented, not expecting such an in depth explanation of the details that lead to this path for Charming.

“As a bunch of secret projects, it was. One time though I accidentally sent a copy of one of those to my publisher instead of the manuscript I meant to. I rushed to get it back when I figured out my mistake, but by the time I got there my publisher had already read it.”

“Oh dear!”

Charming Tale laughed, “Yeah, I thought I was screwed. My publisher of course said that she couldn’t use it, but before I could explain they said they knew somepony else who might be able to. I was stunned, but before I knew it I was dragged to another publisher, and became a writer for erotic novels. We had to change a few things of course. Couldn’t use copyrighted material or real people for legal reasons, but all it took was a few name edits and some small additions to fix all that.”

“That really sounds incredible.” said Scylla, the tale having enthralled her.

To believe that such a thing could happen from writing out sexy stories, and to think somepony like Charming was the kind of pony to write such things. She didn’t know why, but she always imagined writers of such stories to be creepy stallions who didn’t know the concept of personal space and were the types to spy on mares through peep holes. Not only was Charming a mare, but she seemed genuinely nice, especially once Scylla was able to talk to her on a more personal level.

“So I suppose that’s why I’m not too phased by all this,” Charming went on to say, “As I’ve fantasized about this kinda stuff a lot before my capture. Not that I want to be here, mind you. I’d rather be back at home, writing my next novel, and not expecting to birth a minotaur in a few months, but right now I’m just picturing this as one of my stories and I’m one of the characters.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Scylla asked.

“Not really, but what are ya gonna do?” Charming shrugged off, “Better to see this as a kinky vacation than treat it like pure torture. Besides, if we do end up getting out of here I’m going to have lots of material for my next novel. Some writers would kill to have this kind of personal experience when it came to the topics of their stories.”

Scylla wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be a joke, but luckily she was spared from an awkward laugh by the return of Mi Jin.

The kirin came back through the doors, showing little expression on her face. “It is time you two. Go in there, greet the members, and then do your best to make them like you. “

Scylla was still apprehensive about going in to meet those who would want to rape her, but Charming took her by the hand and started walking in. “Don’t worry about it,” she reassured, “Just remember all the things I told you and you’ll be fine.”

“R-right…” Scylla replied, moving her hooves to follow the unicorn through those doors. Maybe Charmings tips would help. Maybe she could pretend to be one of the characters from her lewd books and put herself elsewhere, pretend that she was somewhere else, or that she was on vacation. It probably wouldn’t make her feel all that better, to be honest. If all else failed though… she could always pretend all the members were naked.

Debut: Part 2

Scylla and Charming Tale stepped out of the hall and into a brand new area unlike any of the others they had been in before, one that looked to be modeled after a sleazy night club. It was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from some strategically placed neon fixtures that bathed the room in different shades of colors, perhaps to lead patrons of The Society from one area to another. A short glance from one light to another gave Scylla this impression, due to the things she spotted in each spot.

A section bathed in red had several small pole-dancing stages set up, each occupied by a pony who was actively trying to keep the attention of those seated around them, a job not made easy with the new arrivals. Under a blue light was a bar where a mare wearing a collar was serving drinks like any ordinary bartender, giving a shot of scotch to a stallion wearing an expensive looking suit as he stared at her naked body from the opposite side of the structure separating them. A green section was reserved for tables in the center of this large room that served as a dining area, with even more slaves walking around in uniforms made to look like skimpier versions of waiter and waitress would wear at a fancy restaurant, with breastless shirts, crotchless pants, and skirts with cut out fronts, none of which were restricted to a single gender.

At the opposite side of the entrance, there was the purple section. It held a rather large stage that was currently empty, but no doubt was where the public performances that Mi Jin talked about earlier where held. From the way she described them, Scylla wanted to stay far away from that location for as long as she was a slave, never wanting to be up there and tormented for the amusement of The Society’s sadistic members.

There were a few other color-coded locations, but Scylla had no time to try and figure out their purpose. She had already been standing at the room’s entrance for a few minutes, as had Charming, and by this time others in the room had started to gravitate their attention towards them. Many, but not nearly all, had left their seats to come and greet the two slaves personally. Mares and stallions, all members of The Society that were interested by this new treat offered to them.

“What do we have here?” asked the first pony to get within a foot of the mares, a clydesdale stallion whose size was between that of a normal pony and the minotaur the girls had gotten so acquainted with. Cupping his chin in one hand, and the elbow of that arm in the other, he started his own evaluation of the two girls as others gathered around. “That kirin said we were in for a treat, but I don’t think any of us were expecting this.”

“They certainly are a sight to look at.” said another stallion, having already made his assessments of the two, liking very much what he saw.

One by one, the ponies came up to them, but all stopped roughly a foot away or more as they came to take a look. The distance was odd, and a little unnerving to Scylla, mostly because up until this point no one at The Society respected any kind of personal space. Here in this room though, one filled with rapists, kidnappers, and slavers, all were keeping a respectful distance.

“Forgive me for asking, but are you a seapony?” a mare asked in a pompous tone, one wearing a fancy and formal dress that Scylla wouldn’t have expected to see in a place like this.

Remembering that she was supposed to answer questions, Scylla tilted her head down a little, placing her vision on the hooves of the members, and said, “I’m a kelpie.”

“A kelpie?” a member questioned aloud, “I’ve never heard of that before. Is that some sort of mix-breed?”

“Don’t say that!” a female member scolded, giving the questioner a hard smack on the chest, “Do you know how rude that is?”

“Kelpies aren’t mix-breeds anyways,” another corrected, “They are more like a fresh-water version of sea ponies. Interesting that Lady Tourmaline managed to get her hands on one though. They tend to be reclusive.”

“Well this one does seem to have a bit of shyness in her.” commented the mare who originated the conversation on Scylla’s species. “Just look at how she retreats behind her friend.”

Unbeknownst to Scylla, at least till the mare brought it up, she had unconsciously tiptoed over behind Charming. Becoming aware of this only compounded the embarrassment, and forced a blush to her face that she could feel as the heat rose in her cheeks, which of course only made her embarrassment worse. She was so self conscious about being the center of attention that she felt like a bashful child being introduced to a group of strangers, finding herself unable to do little more than hide, quiver, and speak small replies when spoken to.

Luckily she had a more brazen friend at her side who was not intimidated by the size or bluntness of this crowd, or at least had the ability to hide it much better than Scylla could. Seeing that Scylla’s timid nature couldn’t be helped, Charming would just have to make herself stand out even more.

“Hey, I know my friend here is super cute,” said the pink unicorn, taking a step forward, “But she’s not the only one here. How about sending me some of that attention too?”

With a wink and a sashaying of her hips, she stepped forward to put herself center stage before the members of The Society. While it might have been strange to say, she had dealt with ponies of this type before. Not slavers and outright rapists, but those who were perverse enough to ‘play’ at the roles. Several times when she went someplace to publicize one of her books, it would take place in some secretive and isolated events where the attendees openly flaunted their sexual fetishes. While nothing bad ever happened at these places, the unicorn had worried the first few times that she would end up in a situation much like the one she was in now. Charming wouldn’t be too surprised if she saw some vaguely recognizable faces here, as either a slave or a member.

“Hmmm…” One of the stallions hummed aloud, considering if this mare was worth his time when a much more exotic slave was just behind her, “What do you all think? Is this one worthy of being called an ‘Element of Servitude’?”

“She does have a nice figure,”, said another male, “Slim and slender, but lacking in muscle tone. And her breasts… By the look at them, they are barely an A-cup.”

Charming had to force herself to smile through those jabs. Where Scylla was getting back to back compliments because of her species, it felt like she was mostly getting criticized. The unicorn liked to believe she didn’t care what people thought about her appearances, being the pseudo shut in writer that she was, but no woman ever wanted to her that their body was sub par. Sure, her chest was a bit underdeveloped, but her tits weren’t so small that they couldn’t be considered below an A. She swore that one of her ancestors must have been a pegasus to curse her breasts with such an unimpressive presence, and for just that moment wished that they could inflict on that potentially non-existent great parent the same embarrassment she was feeling just then.

“I think you all are being too judgemental of the girl,” said a mare, “A petite body structure can be very appealing in a slave.”

Charming’s irritation lifted a little at the opinion of this new mare, who clearly was a cut above the rest when it came to understanding the worth of another mare’s body. For a moment, she didn’t care if this member was a disgusting rapist who might pay to have Charming lick her snatch clean. At least she had the ability to see the beauty that was to be had from not having watermelon sized boobs.

“Small breasts give off a very youthful appearance in mares,” she went on to say, “And it’s always nice to have some young, adorable thing around to complement your own, more mature features. ”

And just like that, all faith in this mare was shattered for Charming. She could feel her admiration vanish like somepony had flipped a switch inside her, turning it into a mild loathing for this pompous mare. How dare she say that her youthful body was ‘adorable’ and imply that it lacked maturity. Once more she had to stifle herself from revealing that these opinions impacted in a personal way, even though she wanted to give each of these ponies a good punch in the gut.

“It would be really cute to have a girl like her around the house in a maid uniform.” An earth stallion aside the mare stated, a bit too gleeful with his idea, “Having her dust the shelves and bring me food, scampering about to complete chores, then giving her a pat on the head as a reward upon completion. It would be such a darling sight to see.”

As the group went on and on about how cute and adorable Charming was, she could feel the frustration inside her build till the smile she wore on her face to hide it became obviously fake. Not that the Society members noticed, as they were all too busy going back and forth with each other, humoring the ways that they would belittle a mare like Charming by treating them like some sort of indentured serving filly. From doing dainty chores, to reciting poetry, to playing a flute or a harp, each idea floated around just having their own cute girl to just have around to look nice.

Never did this vear into sexual connotations either, with the closest thing to that being some humoring the idea of playing dress-up with such a mare. If it were Nightshade in her place the bat mare probably would have complaints about how none of these ponies, who had been hyped up to be depraved molesters, were not treating her like a piece of meat and trying to bend her over to fuck her on the spot. She never expected to have feelings like that herself, but with her pride hit she kinda wished that at least one of the ponies would say something about her sexual worth, and not that she was just something to have around for her appearance.

“Well enough of this mindless prattle.” said one more of the ponies shrouded by the dim lighting, “These two have received more than their fair share of complements. We really should be getting to the real purpose of this encounter.”

“The real purpose?” Scylla asked, still trying her best to hide behind the confidant unicorn.

“Yes,” she heard the voice reply, “This is suppose to a learning experience for the two of you. Call it your orientation. During your time in here, you’ll learn much about what it is to be a slave in The Society.”

“At least when it comes to the club rooms.” added a mare.

“Rooms?” Scylla said, catching the use of plural, “As in ‘more than one’?”

“There are several areas like this one, with perhaps some small variance between them. It allows for multiple events to happen at the same time, if needed, and if one room needs clean there are a few more that we members can go to instead.”

Scylla could follow the logic of having several rooms like this, but what they had trouble with was where all the bits came from to make them all. This one alone looked to be a small fortune in its design, and there were more just like it somewhere else in this facility. The members of this organization were wealthy, but Lady Tourmaline must have been richer than Princess Celestia in order to create an elaborate and extravagant den of debauchery such as this. If it was made this way to draw in customers, then Schorl surely had lost out on more money than she could ever recover. It made it look like the crystal pony had a poor mindset when it came to business, but this whole thing could have just some kind of expensive personal hobby that she was willing to share with others for a price.

“So my two lovely ladies, shall we begin?” the stallion asked, his question being rhetorical as the two didn’t really have a choice in the matter.

“Might as well.” replied Charming, taking Scylla’s hand in hers, “But is it ok if my friend and I stay together? So we can get the same information and share our notes.”

“How cute,” the stallion said, once more hitting that sensitive button of Charming’s, “You two are free to stick together if you want. None of us are going to pull you apart when we don’t have permission to use you.”

Hearing that calmed Scylla a little, knowing now that at the very least she would have somepony she knew nearby at all times. That Charming called her a friend also helped, instilling some trust towards the unicorn inside the kelpie.

“Follow me then, and pay close attention to everything I say. Don’t want to have to repeat myself.”

Some of the other members gave slight mutterings of how they wanted to be the ones to guide the two slaves around, but most were happy enough to let the more vocal stallion take charge of the two new slaves for now. They had already gotten what they wanted out of this meeting, which was to see the new meat that would soon be on the menu. The crowd dispersed rapidly now that somepony took up responsibility for Scylla and Charming’s introduction into their servile education, with a large percentage of the ponies returning to their seats to enjoy the things that brought them to The Society in the first place this day, leaving only a few to follow the stallion and his newly acquired slave entourage.

With the entrance doors closed, and having spent a good amount of time peering into the darkness, Scylla and Charming adapted their eyes to the dim lighting of the club, everything had a shaded hue to it, but they could easily see everything at this point. The stallion ahead of them was a pegasus, one with either a dark blue or black coat. There really was no telling which with all the different colored lights in the room causing colors to mix. Probably an intentional design to obscure the identities of members if one of the slaves ever managed to escape. Same went for the color of his wave, short cut mane, which could have been practically any light color as it seemed to change colors as they walked by different sections of the room.

“To begin our tour,” the stallion said, walking into the the place where all the tables had been set, “We have the serving area. This is where you will be assigned if you do a good job, bring in customers for private sessions, and make your owners lots of money.”

The stallion pointed through the tables, landing his finger on a mare walking from table to table with a tray in her hands, a uniform on with a short skirt that barely covered half her upper thighs on her body, and worry on her fairly pretty face. One look, even at a distance, could tell anypony she was fearful of what could happen to her in this room.

“While serving food and drinks to the members is the main job of a waitress or waiter, some are given bracelets like that one to let members know that they’re free to touch.”

Hearing this, Scylla and Charming were able to spot the bracelet the pegasus was referring to, it being wrapped around her right wrist and sporting a rather large, diamond shaped gem on it.

“They are locked onto your arms, and cannot be taken off without a key. They were changed to be this way after a few slaves thought it would be a good idea just to remove them. Not only were they punished, but they caused Lady Tourmaline to design these better bracelets because of it.”

As the two initiate slaves watched on, the members who were keeping an eye on them began to figure out exactly who they were being directed to observe. Not wanting to mislead the girls on how free use waitresses were used, a few of them started to use the liberty granted to them by the establishment to fondle the mare as she passed, slipping a hand between her thighs to graze her flesh, planting firm grips on her ass, or going so far as to put their fingers under the miniskirt of her uniform to press their fingers against the folds of her pussy.

The waitress did her best to ignore the molesting hands attacking her body, so that she may do the job forced on her by this establishment, clenching her body to harden herself against the touches while shutting her eyes to tone out everything happening to her. That only got the members more interested in her though, seeing this mare’s resistance as an amusing game, one that others in the room were starting to catch onto. All across the serving area ponies would call on the waitress to take an order or for refills on drinks, forcing her through a gauntlet of hands that were caressing and stroking any part of her they could reach while seated.

It was amazing how quickly it went from just a few ponies doing it to practically everypony in this area joining in, with Scylla and Charming seeing the whole thing unfold before their eyes. For all they knew, this might have just been a common event, but the coordination with the members on how to make this one mare miserable was amazing in its own way. Eventually though, this had to stop, and so it did when the waitress finally signaled the end with an unfortunate accident.

Every hand made her more and more uncomfortable, sparking feelings in her that this girl didn’t want to feel. No doubt brought here through circumstances that matched Scylla and Charming’s abduction, she was no more a willing participate in this as either of them, and thus the humiliation of the situation overcame her. With a single knee jerk reaction that came from when one of the members swiped their fingers across her vagina, the waitress’ back tensed up of its own volition, causing the tray she had been holding to fall out of her stunned hand, Everything she had on it hit the floor, making a mess of food, liquids, and broken glass. In defeat, the waitress hung her head, bested by the members in this battle heavily weighed against her.

The members themselves got a good laugh out of this victory, and returned back to their own business, getting other servers to get them their refreshments, while a mare in a maid’s outfit walked over to the one they had tormented so, handing them a broom and dustpan with a force that told she was displeased.

“Just so you know,” said Scylla and Charming’s pegasus guide, “Damaging or breaking any Society property is a punishable offense for slaves. I would highly recommend you not follow in that slave’s hoofsteps.”

With the entertainment revolving around the mare over, the pegasus saw no further reason to stay in this section of the room. He headed elsewhere, and while they were reluctant to do so, the two mares followed him. If it was up to Scylla, she would have gone to help the waitress clean up, as it was entirely not her fault that the accident happened. She would probably get in trouble if she didn’t tail the pegasus though, so in her fear of reprisal she obediently went where she was expected to go.

“So as you might have been able to notice,” Scylla heard the guide say as she made it back to his side, “We don’t really use this for explicitly sexual acts. We might have some fun, play around with the slaves, and get a little hands on, but there is an unwritten rule about members having sex in the club rooms.”

“So you have some kind of ‘keep it in your pants’ rule you all enforce?” Charming asked, legitimately curious at how a group so focused on sex could reach this kind of agreement.

“Not strictly,” he replied, “But we all mostly agree that there is a place for such acts, and in here that place is up on the stage.” Pointing to the purple section, the stallion made sure both slave mares were aware of the currently vacant space in the room. “Up on the stage, one has free reign to do as they please to a slave in exhibition, That way, if anypony wants to expose themselves to a crowd, they can, and if anypony wants to not see that sort of stuff, they can sit in a seat faced away. The bar is also placed in such a way that a turn of the chair can give you either full access to a show, or none at all.”

“That’s actually a bit clever,” said Charming, making mental notes about the layout of the room, and how they helped this concept of everything being focused to the stage, while at the same time arranged so you didn’t have to acknowledge its existence if you really didn’t want to.

The only problem was that you’d still hear whatever was going on happening, but for some reason, Charming didn’t really think that was something the members really cared about. What they wanted was an environment where they could indulge in their kinks and urges, without having to put up with everypony else’s in the process, and without something like the stage to be there to signal when somepony was going to express their potentially irksome desires, ponies might do their debaucherous acts anywhere in the room, at any time. This would undoubtedly lead to somepony doing something that would be seen as untasteful to another, which could lead to all sorts of other problems. With the members all being those who were full of themselves to the point they believed they could claim ownership over another pony, conflicting opinions of how to do things when it came to this secretive sexual slavery sect could easily cause a divide, so it was best for business that each member were allowed to turn a blind eye when something unappealing met it.

“But what about those booths over there?” Scylla asked, noticing a few right next to the stage, pointed directly at it, with the only thing to look at if one were to try and look away being the wall they were connected to.

“How astute, Submission.” the pegasus replied.

“Submission?” Scylla replied back, thinking that the stallion was wording his sentence weirdly, or was missing a few words in between.

“That’s your Element, isn’t it?” the stallion asked, knowing the answer. “The members all took to calling the ‘Element Series’ slaves by their designated attributes the last time around, as it was easier than remembering a bunch of names, and I personally see no reason not to continue the tradition. They do make for cute nicknames for you lot.”

“So there were a set of Elements before us,” Scylla figured, before connecting that with the fact that Schorl had said the raffle she, Charming, and the others participated in was the second one. “Are the other Elements here too?”

“I’m afraid not, Obedience,” answered the pegasus, taking pleasure in using the element names, “They have since left the facility. Lady Tourmaline said they had an important purpose to fulfill elsewhere, but I assume they were just sold off to some rich ponies in far away lands. Perhaps the Saddle Arabians have an active slave trade that we are Equestrians are unaware of.”

The two girls had a good idea that the elements before them probably went to other minotaur, but there was no reason to correct the stallion in that matter.

“But going back to your previous question, why don’t we take a better look at those booths?”

Following the stallion, they got to one of the seated enclosures. Getting closer, a small bar connecting the top parts of the seats on either side of a booth table, with lengths of cloth hanging down from them on rings.

“Oh!” Scylla said aloud, figuring out how they fixed the problem she thought came with these kinds of seatings, “There is a curtain you can close.”

“Yes indeed,” said the pegasus, “These curtains allow us members to block out anything that makes us uneasy, if we wish.”

“I’m betting that’s not their only purpose,” Charming said, quickly seeing what else they could be used for.

The stallion laughed, as did those few members who stuck around to see what these new slaves would get into. “Yes, some fooling around does happen behind these curtains with the slaves from time to time. Kissing, groping…”

“Sex.” Charming said bluntly, not at all taken in by this mild attempt at misdirection.

“Yes, yes, there are times that a member will bend the rules slightly. Get a blow job behind these shrouds, or a more interactive lap dance. That is why it’s always best to get to a table before anypony else. And luckily, it seems that this one has been unused today.” The stallion slipped into the booth, claiming it for himself. “Shall we ladies?”

The stallion, sitting as far back in the booth as possible, gestured for Scylla and Charming to come sit next to him on either side of him. Seeing no other options, and assuming that snubbing him would lead to a bad referral later, they slipped into the table just as he wished, with one girl on either side.

The pegasus, getting exactly what he wanted, gave a triumphant look to his peers. Instantly they discovered his real plan in taking up the mantle of showing these girls the ropes, and were now kicking themselves for not thinking of something similar as well. The pegasus, having the girls now as his own personal escorts, sent the other members a wave of his hand, dismissing them from acting as entourage. None of them took this well, but weren’t about to argue the point. It wasn’t like they were playing an active part in the training of these mares, so they had little say about whether or not they deserved to share in this pegasus’ plans. They might not have wanted to, but they resigned to letting this stallion have his way for now, and left him be with what would be a short lived prize.

“Ahhh,” he said as he relaxed, draping his arms around the shoulders of the girls on either side of him, “That’s much better. That rabble was just making things weird, don’t you think?”

“Umm… yeah…” Scylla replied, finding it much weirder that this random stranger had his arm around her, and that his hand was traveling down her body towards her breasts.

Before it got all the way there, however, the pegasus stopped himself to use that hand to instead call a serving pony over to him. “Waitress!” he said, standing up as well as he could in his seat, lifting the arm he had around the kelpie to make sure he was noticed.

The first waitress that noticed him rushed over to the table as fast as she could get there, the male servers all ignoring his call as he specified exactly what it was that he wanted. “Hello sir,” said a rather buxom unicorn girl with a ring around her horn, “What may I serve you?”

“Well normally I’d have you serve a piece of that pie you’re keeping between your legs,” said the stallion, crudely joking with the enslaved mare, “But today I’d like three tall glasses of spiked cider. One for me, and two for my guests.”

“Oh, you don’t have to-” Scylla started to say.

“You’re right. I don’t have to, but I’m doing it because I want to. Now get a move on, waitress.”

The unicorn rushed off as quickly as she came, heading straight for the bar to get the ordered drinks.

“This is very kind of you,” Charming said, “But are we even allowed to drink on duty?”

“Relax,” he assured, “Slaves are allowed any luxury or convenience given to them. If a member thinks you are deserving of some jewelry, then you are permitted to take it. In fact…” Reaching into his pants pocket, the stallion pulled out a large stack of paper slips. He took a moment to divide them up, passing four to Scylla and four to Charming, repocketed the rest.

“What are these?” Scylla asked, examining what was handed to her. The slips of paper themselves were made of white construction paper, but had several things printed on it. Most notably were the words ‘Official Slave Bond’.

“They are an idea one of the other members came up with,” said the stallion, “A white mare who joined our ranks a little while back’. She thought it might be a good idea if we could tip the ‘submissives’, in order to incentify good behavior. The idea has been in effect for a while, there has been some notable improvement in the slaves because of them. Each one of those slips of paper are worth a fourth of a bit. If you are tipped enough of them, once a week you are allowed to go to a slave exclusive store in the facility and purchase things like candy bars, perfumes, books, jewelry, and other approved personal items to make your lives as slaves more pleasant. Save enough and you can even be permitted something like a few hours in The Society’s private movie theater.”

“Hmmm… so another thing to get us to comply and see the rewards that come with servitude.” commented Charming.

“Exactly,” said the pegasus, not catching the discouragement in Charming’s voice. The unicorn saw this as what it really was, which was just another for of conditioning.

The members would make you work your ass off, almost literally, just for a meager snack or some small trinket. These four slips alone were just enough to get a Hayday candy bar if the estimation given was to be believed, and their was little reason to think that they would be handed out in such a quantity each time. No, this was just a taste of the ‘fortune’ a slave could amass, something to get a captive focused on the goal of reclaiming something they use to be able to get on their own terms. Whoever this white mare was, she must have been a very devious member to come up with this idea. Making ponies work much harder to be rewarded with much less.

The explanation of the slave bonds gave the waitress just enough time to return, carrying all three drinks with her. One by one she placed them down in front of their intended drinkers, until her tray was empty and her role fulfilled.

“Hmph, I suppose that is worth a small bonus.” said the pegasus, not all that impressed with the serving slaves time or presentation. This was just a good opportunity to demonstrate the tipping system. He took a single bond out of his pocket, and proceeded to place it flat on the table, setting it near the center. “But you have to work for it. Arms behind your back, bitch.”

The waitress did as she was told, and crossed her arms behind herself, cupping her shoulders in her hands. “Mouth only?” she asked.

“Too easy.” said the pegasus, “I want to see you get it using only your tail.”

With nary another word, the waitress turned herself around, facing her back to the three ponies seated in the booth. She then scooted herself backward and lifted her body up an inch so that she could rest her butt on the table’s edge, making her rounded cheeks go into view from out of underneath her short skirt. Now partially seated, she proceeded to move her tail to get at the piece of near worthless paper money. It started with a flick of the hair strands, making the tail go up in a jolt only so it could drape back down on the table. The motion brushed the bond a little, causing it to move, though not in the direction of the mare. It went off to the side a bit, spinning it on spot more than making it go anywhere of worth. This didn’t discourage the mare though, and as soon as the tip of her tail brushed the table she lifted it up again to try once more.

“What a lovely display, isn’t it?” the pegasus said, casually pushing the full glass of alcoholic cider closer to Scylla, “A pretty, nubile girl, working her best to do her job. Working up a sweat. It’s the kind of thing a stallion can really appreciate.”

Scylla took her drink in hand, but refrained from actually drinking from it as she watched the other mare try with all her might to receive her tip. Each motion of her tail made her bottom bounce a little, which was the real intent of this exercise she assumed. As hard as it was to get the piece of paper to move one inch with her tail of hair, Scylla could only think about how that kind of trick wouldn’t work on her at all. If this stallion had tried to get her to do the same, all it would take was a simple scooping of her tailfin to get the hardly worthwhile prize, and leave the pegasus wanting. Then again, he would probably be aware of that and make her do something else just as degrading.

The mare bounced herself for the amusement of the stallion for several minutes, but ended up getting the slave bond over to her. Once close enough, the pegasus gave her permission to take it and leave, to which she did so with great pleasure. There was a recognizable resentment from her towards the pegasus that Scylla could recognize, putting the general consensus towards the members from the slave staff at mostly negative. It was relieving to see that there weren’t really many ponies here with the mindset of the bat pony she had been in the company of for the previous week, as it would be disheartening to say the least to be surrounded by those ecstatic about having their freedom stripped away.

With the mare gone, the entertainment she provided to the stallion left with her, which in turn directed his attention fully back to the mares at his sides. “Haven’t touched your drink I see,” he offhandedly said to Scylla, “You know, I paid good money to get you that.”

“I-I’m just not that thirsty is all.” Scylla replied, knowing that her refusal to drink was not going to be ignored.

“An aquatic pony like you not being thirsty?” the pegasus said, giving a racially insensitive joke, “Come on, it’s not gonna kill you. Just loosen up a bit and have a few rounds on me. I demand it.”

Charming looked up from her own drink, having worked it to about halfway already. “Just give it a try, Scylla,” she encouraged, “It’s really not that strong. I could probably kick back five of these before without a problem.”

With Charming backing up the pegasus in this matter, Scylla had little choice but to comply. Grabbing the glass, she put it to her lips and sipped a bit out of it. The cider tasted mostly sweet, with a mild bite to it indicating that there was alcohol in the drink. The presence of alcohol was worrisome for the kelpie, but at this low a percentage she hoped that she would be able to handle it. She would stick to small sips, and only when her host was looking. That was the plan she had in mind for the drink.

“Good, that’s more like it. For a moment I thought you were trying to insult me.” said the pegasus as he placed his arm back around Scylla’s shoulder, reacquainting himself with her body. With the complete disrespect of personal space this stallion had, it wouldn’t surprise Scylla at all if this was the only way a guy like this ever touched a mare. Then again, he was showing much more restraint than her master did. At least he was just trying to cop a feel, and wasn’t reeming her over breakfast.

Thinking of it that way, and taking another few sips out of her drink, Scylla relaxed a bit. It was actually kinda reassuring with that notion in her mind now. At least this guy isn’t the most terrible guy I’ve ever met. Repeating that in her head, Scylla chuckled to herself. If and when she got out of this situation, she would probably see most stallions that way. Almost made her wonder if she would develop bad tastes in men because of it. Already the jerk who was now cupping her tit while he talked to Charming was looking spectacular when compared to the bull who had her as a literal breeding tool.

“A writer?” the pegasus said, squeezing and releasing his hand around Scylla’s breast in a slow, gentle rhythm, “That is an interesting occupation. Anything I’ve ever read?”

“Not unless you’re into stories of girlish stallions being force fed plastic dicks at both ends by lots of dominant mares.” Charming replied, trying to deflect this stallion’s advances just a little. He had made to her clear what his type was through his actions, and being that he was a member, it gave the unicorn the idea that he wasn’t into strong, willful mares.

“Oh! I remember that one!” Scylla said, recalling a book she had in her private collection that featured just such a scene, “Wasn’t there like eight of them with three guys.”

“Umm… yes, actually.” Charming answered, finding it odd that Scylla, the shy and reserved sea mare, got the number of participants right.

“They had all kinds of fun with the boys, taking turns making them beg for the mares to take them up the butt. Then they went on to tapping their balls with a crop till they got sore.”

“That’s… well…” Charming hadn’t really expected this, caught out of her element by a surprising fan that came from an unlikely source. All she could say in response was “Seems like somepony has taken a look at one of my writings” as she took a moderate drink from her cup.

The stallion on the other hand seemed intrigued even more by all this. “Soooo, seems like behind that facade of the timid young mare is a bit of a sex freak. Very nice.” He said, humored by this revelation to Scylla’s character, “And on the other hand we have a girl with a bunch of bad ideas in her head. I certainly would like to let you feel what it’s like to be one of the stallions in your books. Mind giving me a title for that one so I can do my research?”

Charming slunk down ever so slightly, scolding herself for not realizing that she was giving the pegasus ammo to use against her, and embarrassed even more that he was making it clear that he would actually read one of her books. “It’s called… ‘The Trap Tamer Club’.” she said, releasing the title of what would be an instruction manual on how to sexually torment her later to what she now believed would be a future client of hers.

“I’ll be sure to order a copy through The Society. I’m sure Lady Tourmaline would have a means of getting such literature.”

“Of course she would…” Charming commented, her pink fur now having a distinct shade of red in it, the unicorn in a whole body blush that was only being concealed by the lighting of the room.

That lighting changed though shortly after the comment from the pegasus, with all sections save for the stage changing from their respective colors to black as they dimmed to near darkness. The purple stage light itself transformed to a more common white light, and brightened to make it the most visible part of the room.

“What’s going on?” Scylla asked, taking a sip from her cup.

“Seems like we got a show about to start.” explained the stallion, “I wonder who it will be this time, and what they'll do.”

As if to answer him, a masculine voice came over a loudspeaker in the room, announcing to all within it “Fillies and Gentlecolts, today we have a real treat for you all. Our gracious host, Lady Tourmaline, has decided that she would wish to perform this evening, and entertain you all in song as you enjoy the pleasures of her club.”

This announcement started a bunch of whispers around the room, so many that Scylla couldn’t make out what they all were saying. It all came down to one thing though, that Lady Tourmaline performing, for one reason or another, was a big deal. Looking at the pegasus, she could make out in the darkness that he too was gaining some excitement as to the arrival of the crystal mare, and the show she would put on for those there.

Scylla didn’t know how to feel herself, but maybe it would be something that even she could enjoy. It was just a song, so nothing bad could happen during it. Still, all this was working up her nerves again, and in order to calm them down, she took several long sips out of her drink glass. Little did she know at the time what a mistake that was.

Author's Notes:

Hey everyone. Schorl here.

Sorry that this update took even longer this time, but it's not like I've been doing nothing. You see, being a Z tier internet celebrity (the absolute lowest of the low), I have gotten the attention of some fans who want my assistance in some of their projects. The other day I helped one such fan by making a full chapter on their FoE story, to try and help them get motivated enough to continue. That took about a week to do, and unfortunately turned out going south because shortly after it's completion that person simply disappeared. Sucks that I might have wasted some time, should he never show up again, but things like this happen I suppose.

That aside, I was having some issues with this chapter. Nothing too big, but I did have to make a few mental revisions. Like at first I wanted to introduce a character that would have taken the place of the pegasus member that guided Scylla and Charming Tale this chapter. He was suppose to come from the crowd as they were making fun of Charming's cuteness and explain that she was a semi famous erotic novel writer, revealing himself to be her publisher. There was going to be a little back and forth with them, like her bluntly asking if it was his fault she was int there, with him adamantly denying it. However I decided against it for what I felt was an approach that would get them into the club quicker.

I tired to include him again later, at the booth, but I felt it would be weird if he tried to barge into the pegasus' private lesson with the two. I thought that maybe he would try to lure Charming away in threat to the pegasus not letting him join, but then I remembered that the pegasus had a hostage, and odds were that Charming wouldn't just leave Scylla alone with the creeper feeling her up. In the end, I found this character too intrusive, so I simply cut him out. Maybe I'll include him in a later chapter, but odds are that now that I'ce said all this, he'd be just as intrusive if I add him later as he would be if I have added him here. Why is it that even in concept my members have no concept of personal space.

First Day on the Job

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“I’m not your slave.”

These were the type of lines that Pathfinder kept cycling in his head over the past week, doing what he could to hold onto his sense of self throughout his time in The Society. His mantra for keeping himself sane and his thoughts independant. Yet after all the time that he put into telling himself that, now he had something different to say.

“Why am I doing this?”

Unlike the strong, defiant statements he had been repeating over and over again, this one came out as bemoaned as he lemented his current situation.

“You are doing this,” said Mi Jin, who was standing right behind him, “Because Lady Tourmaline promised to let you see your daughter if you went along with this evening’s activities.”

“I know the reason I’m going along with you!” Path exclaimed, not having to be reminded of the reward for his obedience, “But why… this?”

The brown pegasus was looking at himself in a mirror that covered the length of the wall from top to bottom. Yet, staring back at him was a fairly attractive pegasus mare wearing a cute waitress uniform, the kind that you might worn by a server at a cafe. The deer slaves,just mere minutes ago, had occupied the room with him and the kirin, and performed their craft with such skill and quality that Path couldn’t see anything but a female version of himself in the reflection, with padding in the chest area

“It is this because Lady Tourmaline ordered it.” Mi Jin said frankly, “Do you really need a better answer than that?”

“It just feels like she’s doing this to embarrass me…” Path said, flipping up the front of his skirt to look at his dick. It was currently covered by a pair of panties, but the bulge in the women’s underwear proved he was still a guy.

“That might be the case.” said the scale covered mare, “Lady Tourmaline always appears to do things to the slaves in her care on a whim. Usually she has them kept to a strict regimen to which she instructs those in her service, like myself, to make them follow without error. Then out of nowhere she’ll decide to have certain slaves do something completely different. I couldn’t tell you if this is part of her training program, or just something she does to bemuse herself.”

Pathfinder released his skirt front, accepting that the crystal mare’s plans for him were just something he was going to have to deal with. That was all that mattered right now. “Tell me what the deal was again. I want to make sure there isn’t some clause or something that would allow Schorl to back out of her end.”

“Very well,” Mi Jin said, referring back to her clipboard, “Lady Tourmaline told me that ‘As long as Mr. Finder puts on the uniform provided for him, and acts as a server in The Society’s club room without incident, he may be allocated a short time after his duties are fulfilled to confirm his daughter’s, Miss. Scylla’s, health and well being’.”

“What does she mean by ‘after my duties’?” Path questioned, not wanting some like a day or a week later to be considered ‘after’.

“After you are retrieved for your task, I will be going immediately to where Scylla is to pick her up. From there, I’ll be heading directly to where you will be located with her in tow.”

“Good…” Path said, begrudgingly taking Mi Jin at her word.

As much as he hated to admit it, Schorl and her lackies had a very solid honest streak in them. It was probably a by product of him having no real control over what happened to him inside these walls, but Schorl, her slaves, and The Society’s members were all very up front and honest to him. No point in lying when the crystal unicorn held all the cards.

“If there are no other questions or complaints, I believe it is time you were off. Many of our members are awaiting you to serve them.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m ready…” Pathfinder preplied, knowing he would never be truly prepared for what he was about to endure.

Hearing his acceptance of the situation, Mi Jin went to the door of the dressing room they were currently within and cracked it open. “He’s ready.” the kirin said as she poked her nose out the small opening.

A moment later another mare entered, a light green unicorn with a neatly braided mane, wearing a maid’s uniform. Pathfinder quickly noted she was one of the Society slaves, due to the collar around her neck and the ring around her horn, but not one that he had encountered before now. She was also much less disheveled than the slaves he had been around, her fur and hair well maintained, and lacking the telltale bags under her eyes that denoted sleep deprivation.

“You must be one the my superiors,” Path said to the mare.

“Superior?” the unicorn questioned, “If you are implying that I’m a higher class of slave than you, then you are mistaken. When it comes to servitude in the Society, there are no ranks or castes. As Lady Tourmaline says, all slaves are equally capable of success or failure, thus they should all be judged at the same standard.”

“Riiiggghhhttt…” Pathfinder say with notable sarcasm, as the discrepancy between how the two were treated was glaringly obvious.

“Believe what you will, but despite being Lady Tourmaline’s personal maid, I am treated with no more privilege than any other who would chose to obey. There are many privileges that come with accepting one’s role, and many punishments that come from defying it.”

Pathfinder raised an eyebrow as he looked from Schorl’s maid to her secretary. Mi Jin at least seemed to be grounded about the reality of this situation, where the unicorn seemed to have dipped deeply into the koolaid.

Mi Jin answered his glance with a small shake of her head, telling Path that she might have been on the same page with him, but she wasn’t going to collude with him about his thoughts about the maid mare.

Aside from that, all he got out of the kirin was, “Mister Finder, Sweet Mint here will be your handler for the evening, guiding you through the tasks you have to fulfill to uphold your end of the bargain.”

To which the unicorn added, “And you had best be grateful the mistress even offered such an agreement in the first place. As a slave, you aren’t in a position to demand anything, where she is in a position to offer nothing.”

“I get it, she’s in charge.” Path said, doing his best to remain calm in this dire situation, “I’ve already agreed to go along with this, what more do you want?”

Mint’s nose curled up as if she had smelled something rotten, not at all pleased with Pathfinder’s attitude. Still, she had been given a task by her mistress, one that didn’t allow for heated debate on slave decorum.

“Then come with me. I shall take you to perform your duties.”

The three ponies left the room, Mi Jin heading away from it in one direction, while the two non-scaled ponies headed off in another. The route that Pathfinder and Sweet Mint traveled was done so in silence, with little disrupting, save for the ambience of screams and cries that flowed from the facility's ventilation ducts. Several times Pathfinder was about to break the relative quiet with a comment or a question, but each time he ended up choosing not to act on his curiosity. He was often told directly the things that Society staff and members felt he needed to know, and questions often led to things he didn’t want to know.

This trek through the halls of The Society ended after the two ended up at a double door. Up until then, the maid mare never hinting that she had anything to discuss with her womanized ward, but upon arrival that changed.

“This is where you will be serving this evening.” said the unicorn while opening the doors.

Inside, Path saw the club room he was being stationed at. The room was brightly lit, and let the pegasus see every table, chair, booth, and stool. Walking in, he spotted a bar counter with plenty of bottles behind it of a plethora of shapes and sizes. Some of the brands he recognized, but many were the kinds that only those who made his yearly salary in a day could buy without seeing it an egregious waste of bits.

All in all, the room had the presence of a high class strip bar, or as some liked to call them a ‘Gentlecolt’s Club’. Nudie bars that catered to stallions who liked to pretend they had higher standards and class than ‘common ponies’ went to gawk at mares like any other guy looking to indulge in their perverse desires. Pathfinder had never been to such a high class establishment before, but he had heard the stories from those who swore they had been in one of those private clubs, invited by a friend of a friend, and how they often catered to the kind of kinks that The Society would endorse alongside their extreme fetishes of rape and slavery.

“Everypony, front and center. We have a new worker joining us this evening.” said Sweet Mint, stepping into a small clearing in front of the tables.

In response, every other pony in the club room stopped what they were doing so they may join the unicorn. They came to her at their own paces, some fast while others took their time. Regardless of speed they formed an organized line of twenty in front of the mare, awaiting what it was she had to say.

“Ahem!” Mint sounded, looking back at Path who was just standing at the entrance.

“Oh!” the pegasus said as he rush up aside Mint.

“That’s better,” Mint said matter of factly, “Everypony, this is Pathfinder. Pegasus, Male, Thirty Seven, straight, and Society property.”

Pathfinder took a note of that. Name, race, gender, age, sexual orientation, and owner. Those were the only details The Society deemed worth knowing.

“He is starting his first day in here as a server, and may have a more permanent position here if he does well.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said a bit timidly, with everypony gawking at him in his mareish appearance. The others took the information rather well though, not batting an eye at that the cute girl in front of them was a middle age male.

“There is no need to introduce yourself,” Mint commented, “Serving slaves are rotated enough that you will rarely work with the same two twice.”

“Oh…” Pathfinder said, uncertain what this was about then if not for him to get acquainted with his co-workers.

“These mares and stallions need to know you though, as it will be you who is expected to be the dead weight of this evening. They will keep an eye on you, and should you fail at a task, they are to step in immediately, to ensure the pony you failed to serve is given the best experience they can receive afterwards.”

“How encouraging…” said Path with layers of sarcasm so thick they could stop a stampeding buffalo in its tracks.

“Just know that you will be watched tonight, and that if we deem your ability to serve was subpar, then your end of the deal will be considered unfulfilled.”

“Got it,” Path said, never assuming that having a brigade of ponies to step in and clean up his mistakes was a good thing.

“That aside not much is really expected of you. You are to take food and orders from our patrons when they arrive. When you are given one, you go over to the bar.” Sweet Mint pointed to the area in question, directing her finger to a small window to the side of it. “If you have a food order, you deliver it to the window so it can be prepared. If it is a drink order you can to the bartender directly. When an order is ready, you can use one of the trays set up at the corner of the counter.”

“That sounds simple enough,” said Pathfinder, “But that’s not all there is to it, is it?”

“If you are wondering if you need to perform any sexual duties, then no.” Sweet Mint answered, “You are not expected in participating in anything like that tonight. The most that can be done to you is that the patrons will be allowed to touch you as they please, so long as no actual penetration is performed. Oh, that reminds me.”

The unicorn turned to face Path, and before he knew it she had grabbed him by the arm. His first instinct was to pull away, but the treatment he had gone through at The Society had left him fairly weakened, so the unicorn easily overpowered him to force his arm into a raise, forward position. With it that way, she pulled out a circular bracelet, which she quickly snapped across Path’s wrist.

“Here we go” Mint said, releasing his arm, “Nice and snug.”

The mare wasn’t kidding. As Pathfinder tried to get it off, he could feel the padded leather gripping him tightly. There was barely a sliver of space between it and his own skin, making it near impossible to slip off. As for removing it the same way it got on, the bracelet, had a metal clasp on it that locked the moment the two parts of it were joined. So just like his collar, this became an unremovable accessory from his body.

“Please settle down,” Mint requested after the stallion gave a few valliant tries against the bracelet, “The bracelet won’t harm you. It actually acts as an identifier for the members, and will save you from more molestations than it will put you into.”

Stopping his struggles against the bracelet, Path examined it to find that it bore a sizable piece of metal on it in the shape of a male gender symbol.

“That symbol, as you might assume, allows everyone to know your true sex. They are issued to prevent confusion for the members, who all have their gender preferences. All of the serving slaves wear them in here.”

As if commanded to do so, many of the other ponies revealed their arms to let Path see their own wrist bound accessories. This also let him know that he was not alone in his current predicament. Other stallions were likewise dressed in female clothing, and in such an effective way that before this point he would have judge their genders on their appearance. Mares were likewise dressed like males, but their two piece uniforms did a bit less to disguise what they really were.

“The last thing you need to know is that members will be referring to you as a ‘waitress’, for obvious reasons. So in order to not confuse you with any actual waitresses, the patrons will raise their hand if they want a properly gendered sever, and will keep it down if they want an opposite gendered one.”

“That’s a needlessly complicated system you’ve created.” commented Pathfinder.

“The members tend to like things that are complex and nuanced. One might call it a fetish for convolution, but I think they just like to see the slaves jump through hoops for them. Sometimes literally.” Mint snicked a little at what seemed to be a personal joke, but of course Pathfinder found no humor in it, “Ehem, but that is all you need to know about your incredibly simple job. I’ll assume at this point that you have no questions, as not only is this one of the easiest positions in The Society, but I have explained things in a manner that even a child could understand.”

“Sure,” Path said, wanting this conversation to be done with, despite what questions he might have had.

“Good, then you may relax for a few minutes before the members arrive. The rest of you, get back to work. Lady Tourmaline want this room spotless for when the guest get here.”

Just as easily as the line was formed, it dispersed as the enslaved ponies returned to what they were doing before Path’s introduction. Sweet Mint, surprisingly, went to help the group prepare the room, in more than a supervisory role. She grabbed up her own wash rag and started wiping down tables without hesitation, humming a tune who’s cheerful tones were not befitting of this place.

Having been basically told ‘go sit down for a while’, Pathfinder did just that., finally finding a command he was happy to comply with. He decided that the best place to do so was the bar itself, cause it was far away from Mint, and it felt out of the way of everypony else’s busy work. Getting on a stool in front of the counter, the pegasus crossed his arms over the flat surface before him, placing his head down within the little nest the made for it. He was just going to relax as he was told, but his own fatigue and poor sleep habits he acquired over the toughest week of his life caught up to him the moments after his body started to relax. With nothing to keep him from drifting, his eyelids drooped, and threatened to whisk his consciousness to the dream realm.

The only thing that stopped this process was a female voice speaking into his ear. “Havin’ a rough day already?”

Path, alerted to the presence of another pony, opened a single eye to see one of the mares from the line up on the other side of the bar, cleaning a drink glass in her hand.

“That question better be rhetorical.” Path replied, with as much courtesy he could muster in his mentally exhausted state.

“Ah suppose that question is a might silly,” said the mare, a country accent revealing itself the more she spoke. The mare was an earth pony of golden brown, and thick green curls atop her head. She was one of the few slaves in the room that was not dressed up in anything, her body exposed to show all her curvy curves. She was very attractive, and to Path’s embarrassment, his dick was able to muster the strength to stand up on its own, despite his own energy being lacking.

“So Mint said your name is Pathfinder?” She asked, cleaning her glass completely before heading over to the bottles behind her.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Path replied, this small talk making his weary mind even wearier.

“Well welcome to the club. I’m Dosie Dough.” Along with her name, the earth mare gave Path the glass that she had been cleaning, filled to the brim with a clear brown liquid, topped off with a layer of foam.

Path was so excited at the sight of the beer, and without thinking he downed it on the spot. It was cool, refreshing, splashing against the back of his throat and down his gullet. Never before had he been so grateful for a drink. An oasis in a the blistering heat. If the mare behind the counter wanted to gain Pathfinder’s affection, then she had found the perfect way. With the alcohol sitting in his stomach, Pathfinder felt much better than he had in days. It wasn’t enough to get him drunk, but just it’s presence in his being was a relief.

“Thank you,” Pathfinder told the mare, but then an important question arose, “But won’t you get in trouble for that?”

“It was just a bit of draft,” Dosie said, taking the glass back from Path so she could clean it once more, “They’ll have a hard time noticing a single glass.”

“Good.” Path replied, happy to get a drink on The Society’s tab, so long as it didn’t come out of some other pony’s ass.

“Now that you’ve gotten a nip, mind tellin’ me a bit about yourself?”

“Why do ya want to know?” Path asked, “I thought the maid said we wouldn’t be together long enough to get to know each other.”

“That’s true for most of ya,” Dosie said, “But I’m a regular bartender here. Ah see more of y’all than most, and plenty of ya pop up as servers more than once. But really, I just think that listening to the stories of other ponies makes time pass by quicker.”

“Well then, this will be the first time I got a drink for a song.” Path joked, “Not much to say really. I’m just a map maker who got dragged into this place. They didn’t even want me really, but they grabbed me when they snatched up my daughter. I can’t believe I let these bastards get the both of us… I’m the worst father.”

“Don’t say that.” Dosie said, “Ah think that ya worrying about your daughter is mighty sweet, and these Society folks are a little too good at snatching ponies up.”

“I’ve notice,” Path said, still amazed at how many captives Schorl had trapped in this dungeon of hers. “So how did you get here? Did a band of gryphons pluck you from your home too?”

“No, Ah got lured in by a few relatives of mine.” Dosie set down her rewashed glass, and moved on to another. “They said they needed some extra hands on their orange farm, and Ah didn’t think a thing about doing it for a while. Next thing Ah know, Ah’m passing out during dinner an’ waking up in a cage with nothin’ on but mah birthday suit. Later Ah found out that Ah was part of a group of random ponies The Society gathered up to train as slaves. Ever since, Ah’ve been working here as part time bartender, and part time sex slave. Wouldn’t believe how many rich stallions go for the down to earth farm mare type.”

Path didn’t like thinking it, but he could agree strongly with their tastes. Just talking to Dosie Dough allowed him to soak in her sweetness, like an adorable country flower. The kind no stallion would be embarrassed to bring home to mother, or have a few rolls around in the hay with. Schorl sure knew how to pick mare’s whose physical and personality traits hit all the trigger for a stallion’s arousal. Suppressing his own desires, he willed his dick to deflate with a force of will. He knew this was not the time nor place to be a horny horse, but nothing about this place made doing otherwise easy.

While he might have thought that it was hard to keep his arousal in check while sitting and talking with Dosie, he had a complete change of heart once his shift started. There was little sexy about what he had to do as a server.

“Waitress!”

From the moment the lights in the club dimmed and the members took their seats, Pathfinder was ran ragged with demands. All around the sitting area the members would call over the room’s music, asking for a waitress with their hands unraised. Most would order drinks, while a few would order some light snacks to go with them, the general goal on the minds of the members was to get drunk and enjoy the entertainment.

“Waitress!”

There was plenty to be enjoyed too, as many of the tables Pathfinder visited had their own personal table dancers. They had been ordered from the same menu as the drinks, with the private dancer’s page on the pages near the back. Males and females, all conscripted by The Society to do this demeaning activity.

At least they don’t have to run their asses off, Path thought, focusing on his own situation. Being a server for a full house was not easy. Even less so when a lot of the work was being thrust on him. There were other servers about, but some of them were being held at tables to perform for some kind of paper money. Many were glad to perform tricks or show some skin for these tips, but Path had little interest in them, his mind only thinking of Scylla and how he could get through this brief moment in his life with the minimum amount of personal embarrassment.

“Oh waitress~”
Being the most active server on the floor lead to him being called on more than the others though, with members who were not even interested in a girlified stallion summoning him just so they could get their drinks in a reasonable amount of time. By the time he got done with one round, he’d have twenty new orders on his plate, requiring a fourth of the amount of trips back to deliver everything, only to start again when somepony wanted a refill.

For what felt like his hundredth time that night, Path made his way to the side of the bar where he could deliver his orders without interfering with the members drinking at it.

“What do they want this time?” Dosie asked, knowing a flood of drink orders were coming her way.

“I need two Manehattens, six Maregarittas, one Blue Haywaii, and ten glasses of Bitweiser.” Path said, displaying an amazing ability to remember details.

Dosie, unable to do the same, jotted down all the orders on a notepad and got to work filling glass after glass. It was in the midst of this that Path got a short break to catch his breath. He leaned his back against the counter, panting heavily while fanning himself off with his hand.

“Heh, that twink is doing a good impression of a mare in heat.” one of the male members at the bar said to another, both of their attentions grabbed by the pretty thing sweating and gasping mere feet away. “Too bad there’s a dick under that dress, cause I’d certainly pay for some alone time with a girl that cute.”

Path was glad to see that the bracelet on his wrist was working as intended, keeping away those who might have thought he was a girl they could violate. As much as that helped though, it had the opposite effect for stallions who were actually into that sort of stuff, as the other male the first one was speaking to was locking eyes with him. A lick of his lips told what he was thinking, and Path was actually glad when Dosie gave him a full tray of drinks so he could go away. As he went to deliver the drinks though, he swore he could feel that stallions eyes staring at him still, and particularly at his backside. Maybe it was a trick of his mind, but he felt like his ass was being peered at through his frilly skirt.

When the pegasus couldn’t shake these feelings, he decided to look back just to debunk them. Unfortunately, he not only found that the stallion had actually continued to stare, but he noticed that the back end of his dress skirt was flipped upwards. The bar stallion had been a unicorn, a fact Path didn’t realize because he was too busy trying to ignore him in the first place. Now he was making that really difficult to do, if not impossible for a pony as self conscious as Pathfinder. Had he not been holding a tray full of drinks, he would have pulled the skirt back down. Full as they were, he would just have to bare with it till he was out of the unicorn’s range.

He kept moving along, his rear end exposed, back to the tables. He couldn’t let this detract from his drinks to their intended consumers one by one, strategically angling himself to keep his rump out of view. He didn’t need to try too hard with most. Those still preoccupied with their dancers or conscripted servers barely noticing the sissy stallion setting drinks on their table before taking his leave, and for some reason many of the seats had become vacant, their occupants crowding together at the club’s entrance. It was fairly easy for him to get through his first round trip, delivering each order quickly and quietly enough to not have his backside seen.

It was not until he gathered up a second plate of drinks that he started having problems. The unicorn still hadn’t given up with his childish antics, even after Pathfinder had struggled to pull it down once he had the chance. If anything, it enticed the stallion to do it more, flipping the skirt back up even higher, so far that it raised up the the back of dress enough to expose the lower part of Path’s bare back. Ignoring it was Path’s only option, having to deliver more drinks.

Returning to the tables, complications began rising. The raised angle of the skirt was too obtrusive for ponies to not notice, nor to not see why it was that way, or how much of an impact it was making on the stallion wearing it. What dominant could ignore such a public shaming of a sub.

“Heeeeyyy, that’s a really interesting cutiemark you got there.” said a particularly snickered up member who caught a partial glimpse of the pegasus’ panty clad ass. “Mind if I get a closer look?”

Path sensed a hand lingering near the strap of his girly underwear, and instinctively he pulled away before the fingers could take hold of it. With haste he went to his next destination, believing that as long as he kept moving he would be ok and unmolested. How wrong he was.

The attempt to ignore and avoid violation only drew in the attention of the members, each tasting blood in the waters that was this club room. Now, every time Path passed by somepony, they would find a bit of exposed flesh and attack it with a graze of their fingers. The first one slid across his outer thigh, the initial touch sending a shock through his leg, directly to his crotch. He didn’t even catch who had done it, but it he did catch notice of the uncomfortable boner pushing out from his panties, poking up against the inside of his dress’ skirt front.

He was not alone either, as the next assault on his body was a firm rubbing of his cock head through that fabric. This time he was able to see who had dared, and it was a female earth mare. With a devilish grin she cupped Path’s flared head, causing him to wince from the sensation of pleasure he felt from her touch. Path neither had the want or the time for this, as he needed to uphold his part of his deal with Schorl, to be a server for these ponies who were molesting him where he stood.

“I think one of those Manehattens are mine.” the mare said, her touches and rubs not ceasing for as long as Path was in her reach. To fix this, Path quickly set down her ordered drink, then went off with trembling hands to the next destination.

More grazing of fingers met with Path as he walked, members waiting till he passed to take an opportunity touch. Some made it quick, giving the dressed up pegasus stallion a jolt of sensation that sparked his mind as quickly as it came. Others lingered much longer, keeping their flesh contacted with Path’s as long as possible. Long since had it stop being restricted to only those who had some form of sexual interest with the pegasus. This had become sport for all involved, to see who would get the made up male to crack under the pressure.

Path couldn’t even try to avoid the hoard of hands hunting for his skin. He instead tried to endure it all, clenching his muscles, tensing up even his thoughts to prepare against what he now knew was going to come. He managed to get roughly half his tray emptied this way, with three full glasses of alcohol remaining a top it.

Just a few more… Path thought, trying to hype himself up, trying to ignore the fact that after this he’d still have several trays let to hand out. He was feeling like he could do it. His hand were shaking, his breath was heavy, but he could make it. That was until…

A hand slipped up the front of his dres, passing easily up the skirt to it’s waist band. Path, like before, did his best to plow through it, not concerning himself with anything the hand was doing or where it was coming from. The hand wasn’t going to allow it. It had a target, and it was going to get it. With a curling of a pointer and index finger, the hand pulled down. They hooked the pair of panties Path was wearing, pulling off his crotch with a single motion that was only hindered by a brief brush across Path’s plumped up penis, brought to erection from all the groping his body had received. With the cloth now out of the way, the hand went back up to make contact with the sex organ, gripping it firmly in its palm.

Within a split second, Path was able to tell that this hand was masculine in nature. The size of it along with its grip strength couldn’t make him believe anything else. Some guy was groping his dick, squeezing it, moving his hand along it, savoring the feel of his engorged stallionhood in his hand. Not only that, but he was doing a fairly good job at it. Path’s mind was in shock, but his dick knew how to react in the presence of stimulation. Perhaps his dick was more reactive to it because its owner was in such a stunned state, but whether or not that were actually the case, Path found his most personal body part twitching happily in the hands of this strange stallion.

That was the breaking point, and with a jump and a shrill scream, Path got away from the stallion and in the process dropped everything he had been holding. The glasses shattered against the hard floor, glass and alcohol spilling out in all directions. It was an instant mess, one that the members found amusing. While the nameless stallion had been the victor, they all played part in making Path’s accident. As a united front, they group congratulated one another with a round of laughter. In his defeat, Path could only hang his head in shame.

In a few moments, Path found a broom and dustpan shoved into his hands. Looking up at the deliverer of these items, he saw Sweet Mint glaring into his eyes. “Don’t just stand there. Clean up after yourself.”

That was all the unicorn said as she turned around, leaving Path in the middle of everything. Little by little, the members all turned away from Path as well, all having gotten all the enjoyment they were going to get from this specticule. With the initial humiliation fading, Pathfinder found himself standing there blankly, fluids drenching his hooves. After a short while, the only embarrassment he felt came from his feelings of cluelessness. Beyond his outburst, no pony seemed to care about him or what he was doing. No longer being molested or peered at, Path pulled his panties back up, and got to cleaning up the shattered glass and spilled fluids off the floor, completely unaware that the reason he was doing all this had been watching him from a distance when he was being violated.

Path started his new chore, assuming that he was to clean up everything. To his surprise, Sweet Mint joined him with a mop shortly after. Together it only took ten minutes to get everything back the way it was before the incident, if perhaps with the floor a little stickier than before in some hard to reach areas.

“That’s good enough,” Mint said, satisfied with the progress they had made, “Grab your stuff and come with me.”

Path did as he was told, grabbing his dustpan full of glass shards and following her through the room. The unicorn headed to a far wall right of the stage. There, she opened a door that blended into the wall in the club’s current darkness, showing it to be a janitorial closet. First thing she did was place both her bucket and mop into a sizable sink held within.

“Place your shards in the garbage can over there.” Mint said, running water over her mop’s head to clean out the alcohol inside.

Path complied, and as he dumped his trash in the receptacle. “Sorry.” he apologized, knowing he had messed up, and hoping this didn’t screw up his chances to see his daughter,

“Don’t be too upset.” Mint reassured, “I saw what was happening. There was little chance of an untrained slave to endure all that. All things considering, you did well, but you dropping your tray was unavoidable.”

“That’s… very reasonable of you.” Path said, caught a bit off guard at Mint’s rationality.

“You did nothing wrong, considering you skill level. It was clear that you didn’t do so intentionally, and that the members were looking for the results that happened. Those that enjoy the mistress’ facilities often find sport in inflicting cruelties on the slaves. All things considering, this time was fairly tame, but it is still a problem.”

“A problem?” Path asked, somewhat confused hearing that. He had come to believe that tormenting the slaves was encouraged.

“The mistress knows and respects the needs and urges of her patrons, but in many cases they take things too far, or express their sadism in inappropriate places. She can hardly scold them for their behavior, seeing as their money is what keeps the facility running, but she does try to dissuade it though.”

“Huh…”

“Do try to understand, the mistress isn’t a monster.” Mint said with complete sincerity, “She just has a lot of ideas most other ponies would find extreme or unusual.”

“I’d say that slavery is a little more than extreme.” Path replied.

“I would expect that from somepony like yourself. One who doesn’t understand the nature of dominance and submission.”

“Hey, I’ve done my fair share of BDSM play with-”

“As you just said, all you did was play it. The mistress lives it and bases her entire life around the concepts of it.”

To Path, it just sounded like Schorl was taking her bondage to an obsessive level. Then again, there was little point arguing everything he saw wrong with the mare’s philosophy with her personal servant. It would do little to change the situation he was in, even if he could break through the apparent indoctrination this unicorn had instilled into her. This conversation did reveal something to the pegasus though. That Schorl had some form of limits, and that while she didn’t strongly enforce them on those who paid for her services, she would prefer that everypony followed them.

As Pathfinder wondered if he could use this somehow, and whether it could get him and Scylla out of there, Mint pulled out a folding chair. She placed it just outside of closet, then told Path, “Have a seat. You’ve earned a break.”

“Well thank you.” Path said, happy to do as he was told.

“A short break, while I sort out who still needs to be served the drinks you spilt.”

“I got it…” Path answered, not very happy about how accusatory Mint suddenly. Then again, she probably didn’t mean it as such, and it was just a misphrasing or poor inflection. His ‘accident’ was causing her more work, and it was easy to see how that could make anypony a little indignant.

With that, the mare left Path to his own little part of the room, a distance away from every other pony in it. Path intended to use this time to try and relax his mind, perhaps even sneak in a small nap, but as soon as he shut his eyes he heard an announcement.

“Fillies and Gentlecolts, today we have a real treat for you all. Our gracious host, Lady Tourmaline, has decided that she would wish to perform this evening, and entertain you all in song as you enjoy the pleasures of her club.”

Upon opening his eyes, he found the club’s lighting had grown darker, and that all the other ponies in the room were bring their conversations to low murmurs. Apparently this was something big, and despite his want to rest, Path had to admit that this was something that caught his attention and interest as well.

All Eyes on Me

From the sideline position of his folding chair, Pathfinder locked his eyes on the stage, the dim light just enough to make out the silhouettes in the room. Whatever show Schorl had planned for her guests was about to start, and the pegasus was just as curious about what the headmistress of the Society was going to do as any of the members.

As things were set up in the darkness, his sharp eyes spotted several figures moving from the back of the stage. His ears could detect the sound of hooves against wood and the rattling of metal links tingling together, even over the sea of murmurs made by the other attendees. It seemed like the crystal mare was going to display some loathsome, sadistic tendencies for the club, something which everypony in the room not wearing a collar would surely applaud her for. That was what he expected, but when a set of spotlights flashed on, Path got something completely different.

In a shimmering barrage of sparkles, the light projected at the front of the stage revealed a crystal mare standing there. Path had missed Schorl in the darkness, her deep purple, translucent form blending in with the shadows perfectly. But now, in the light, she was the most visually striking thing in the room as it refracted through her body, only being blocked by the sequined evening gown she wore that matched the color of her flesh perfectly. The spotlights dimmed a little after, as the spectacular shimmering was a bit much for onlookers, but this dazzling moment captured the attention and stunned all who witnessed it, bringing the room to sheer silence. With all other mouths now stifled, the crystal unicorn stepped forward to a microphone standing in front of her, took it in her hands, and put her lips up to the device.

“A long, long time ago, I had my own kingdom. Was a beautiful, lovable, princess.~” She started, singing with a voice that Path was surprised came from this villainous figure. It was sorrowful, but sweet, echoing of both pain and, somehow, a sense of longing. “But he cast a shadow, shrouded so dark, cause it to fade away~. But honey, now the turn is miiinnneee~”

With the finishing of her intro, a musical accompany filled the room. A jazzy, somewhat upbeat tune that felt completely different from the mood she had been setting before. What Path had believed was going to be a somber recounting of old wounds turned a complete one-eighty, with both the music and the growing smile on Schorl’s face making it feel more like a celebration of the sorrows she was previously speaking of.

“Three, two, one,” she said, removing the mic from its stand while counting down with the fingers on her other hand, each number bringing another spotlight to life.

The first two revealed in this manner were some mature looking mares, a pair of unicorns each with their own microphones, followed by a lime green earth stallion with greenish, blue hair, looking to have just reached adulthood. Each of these new additions to the act had nothing on but a collar, indicating their slave status, with the nervous looking male having a chain attached to his collar that led out to where Schorl was standing. From the look on this stallion’s face, the way he used his hands to cover his cock sheath like his privates were at stake, and that chain leading to danger, Path could tell his part in this was not going to be mere display.

With a quick grasping of her hand at what looked to be nothing, Schorl took hold of the other end of the stallion slave’s chain and reeled him in over to her, forcing him to stand next to her as she continued her performance, stepping side to side and swaying her hips as she resumed singing.

“A night mare made of crystal, hid from the sun~. Looks like Sandbar’s got a little date, let’s have some fun~.” The crowd applauded briefly as the show ramped up to the actual meat of the performance, and the reveal of Schorl’s victim for the evening. With a pleased smile, Schorl tugged this young male’s leash again, forcing him to look her eye to eye. “We got lots to do, little servant boy, to make you completely mine~. To make the perfect slave colt~,” She sung, running her free hand gently, seductively slow across his hardened shaft, before grasping it with the tips of her fingers, digging her nails into sensitive, exposed flesh, “Some sin must be done~.”

The young male winced, but was too afraid to pull away. Path felt the stallion on stage could overpower the crystal mare, if he had to, but here he was pretty much letting Schorl have her way with him. Then again, what would he do in this situation after he tried such a thing, surrounded by members and with Schorl’s minotaur bodyguard no doubt close by watching everything?

To Sandbar’s relief, Schorl released her painful grip almost as quickly as she started it, turning away from him while giving him a bit of slack, and to Path’s surprise, a bit of the sorrow and longing from the start of the song returned to the crystal unicorn’s voice.

“I was once told what to do and what to say~. I couldn’t escape~. Heeee got to chose the ending of my fate, and locked me away~”

And just as before, the moment of sorrow gave way to glee as Schorl’s saddened eyes turned to malice, and her sadistic smile returned as she slowly turned her attention back to the lime green stallion. If Path wasn’t watching closely to this act, he would have sworn two seperate mares were performing it.

“But noooot anymoooorrre~” she said, pulling Sandbar to her with a violent jerk, gripping his muzzle with her free hand to direct his vision to her more personally this time. “I’m in controool~. I have the stage~. I’m out of my cage~. Now, all eyes on me~!” While keeping her grip on both the stallion’s leash and muzzle, Schorl turned he own head to the audience, repeating her last line again in a very throaty manner as she shook her body provocatively, “All eyes on meee~”

At this point, the two unicorns in the back joined in, giving their own “Ba-dops~” and “Do-bops~” to the song, acting as the backup singers they were brought there to be, and dancing their own little forced jigs, showing how much they were being made to participate in this and how unnerved they were to be a part of the stallion’s abuse.

They might as well have not existed though, because as Schorl continued to sing, every eye in the room was locked on her and what she would do next, including Pathfinder’s. If there was one thing that he had to give to her, it was that she carried a certain cruel charisma about her that could not be ignored. This spectacle was just her putting that to full strength, exuding a magnetic aura of dominance and sadistic beauty most dominant females would be jealous of.

“So many experiments, that I wish to make~. To taunt and tease your flesh~. Till you’re my perfect slave~!”

Schorl sung, running her hands across the bare body of her captive, ending the last sentence of the verse with a rough scratch across his chest, using those long, sharp nails to cut through his fur straight to the skin underneath. Sandbar recoiled at this, which provoked more lyrics from the mare.

“You resist, with all of your will~. That’s something I aim to take~. My demons, they want you now, cause you’re the sacrifice they’ve claimed~.” With her expression changing to a bit of smugness, the crystal mare circled around the earth pony once, “Yoooouuuu want to say that you just can’t be tamed, and put me to shame~. Yoooouuuuu, think resolve will keep away the chains I’ll put in your brain~.”

Once Schorl made one full rotation around the stallion, ending up back at his front, the mood of the act dramatically shifted. The tune switched from up beat to one that cared a certain dread about it, and Schorl suddenly grasped the stallion by his skull, digging fingers in harshly as she once more aimed his face directly at hers. Her previous actions could be seen as playfully mean, at least by someone familiar with BDSM like Pathfinder, but this was just malicious.

“FOOOOCUS ON MEEEEE~!!!” she practically yelled at the poor earth pony, managing to match melody of the music despite her drastic change in attitude. Sandbar’s eyes went wide with terror as he stared at, from what Path could tell seeing the stallion’s reaction, the face of evil itself.

Schorl, easing up a bit, made her horn glow as if casting a spell, and for a split second, Path believed he could see the same dark purple energy that covered her horn in Sandbar’s eyes. With only a blink, any sign of that energy was gone, as was any of that malice that Schorl wore on her face just seconds before. As she went on with her song, she was looking quite pleased with herself, while Sandbar looked positively timid and unnerved.

“I’ll be aaaallll that you see~. I’ll make you sway~. You can’t run away~ All eyes on meeee~!”

With the stallion as emotionally beaten as he was, all Schorl had to do was give him a light push to cause him to fall backwards onto the stage, tripping over the wire of Schorl’s microphone that she had managed to wrap around his ankles during the performance. And like a predator playing with its food, the crystal mare hovered over the prone pony at her hooves before slowly going to her knees next to him, and then proceeded to lay herself across his frightened form.

“Yooouuu, don’t know what it’s like to slip away, in an ocean of pain~.” Schorl sang softly, the music and her touches following in suit as she caressed Sandbar’s face, which scared the stallion to no end. Even he had picked up on the pattern of what followed all of Schorl’s gentler gestures. “Cause heeeee, my king~... Drove me insaaaannnneeeee~!”

The beat picked up again, the song a disorganized mess of tempos and melodies that somehow fit together to make it incredible. It very much reflected Schorl herself in Path’s mind as, regardless of how terrible the things she was into were, the only way he could describe them was ‘incredible’, though not in the positive connotation the word usually held.

“But nooot anymooorrreee~!” sang Schorl, rising back to her hooves, holding one of the closer sections of Sandbar’s chain leash in her hand, “I’m in controool~!” she declared, pulling the subdued stallion so hard by the collar that he went from being on his back to landing on all fours. “I have the stage~! You have to obey~! Now, do as you’re told~!”

Setting a hoof on the back of the earth pony’s spine, Schorl affirmed his place under her by making him support most of her weight as she wrapped up her performance, leading into the final verse by saying “Once more, to the beat, boy.”

With Sandbar appearing dominated, Schorl took her eyes away from him, and instead looked outward to the crowd, addressing them directly instead of focusing on the slave stallion. “Fooocus on meee~! I’ll be aaaallll that they seeee~! I’ll make them sway~. No, can’t run away~! Now all eyes on me~! Now all eyes on, All eyes on me~!”

And with that, the song, as well as the punishing exhibition on the stallion on stage, came to a close. The music cut, and the lights brightened to illuminate the room to the way it was pre-performance. The members in the room, amazed by the show, gave their cheers and clapped their hands. Path, however, was speechless at what he had saw. The young, adult male had not been beaten or bruised in any extreme fashion. Even Pathfinder himself had suffered worse at the hands of the Society’s members by this point, but there was something… ‘brutal’ about what Schorl had done to him.

Just watching how Sandbar still shook with tears in his eyes as the crystal mare removed herself from his back showed that he had, in some manner, been mentally destroyed. As if the parts in the song aimed at the stallion had spelled out exactly what Schorl did to him, binding his mind to her whims. If that was seriously something Schorl could do, then she was not just sadistic, egotistical, and mad... She was outright scary.

At the very least, now that the song was done, so was the torture Sandbar had endured. That was, unless Schorl intended to do some sort of encore, but that didn’t seem likely. From Path’s perspective, it seemed like most members liked to plan out a single activity for their victims for the day, and often were done once that activity was finished. He was probably wrong, but this one and done approach was all he had experienced in his sessions so far. Luckily for the other stallion, it appeared to hold true this time too, as Schorl took a moment to say something to him before leading him off stage, Sandbar being made to crawl submissively behind her.

“What a fantastic performance by our headmistress,” said the club’s announcer, “What a beautiful voice. Now ready your eyes and ears for our follow-up act, an exclusive performance from one of the Society’s most famous slaves; Countess Coloratura!”

The curtains at the back of the stage spread apart, revealing the very pony that the announcer had introduced, wearing a lewd outfit made of black, see-through thigh high stockings and a similarly transparent skin tight fishnet leotard, as well as a rhinestone laiden collar locked around her throat. Unlike the last slave, she didn’t need to be dragged out, and even looked a little happy to be there. With no hesitation, fear or shame, she took the mic that Schorl had used before, and lustfully ran her tongue across the bulb on the top end of it as the music for her hit song ‘The Spectacle’ started playing.

Path hardly had time to take in the surrealism of this scene playing out before him, or think about how another famous pony like her could willingly end up as slave in this place, before somepony else reminded him of the position he was in.

A quick set of hands managed to flip up the skirt of the waitress uniform he was wearing, and took his cock in their grasp before the stallion was even aware it was happening. It was only when he felt a small, yet sizable, solid ball-shaped object that he became aware that he was under attack, and his eyes darted downward.

But by the time his eyes landed on the tip of his cock, a rather long bead wand was already being shoved slowly inside the tight hole on the top. The wand then pushed down into his shaft, it finding only a slight resistance that caused a mild feeling of discomfort for the pegasus.

“Stop!” he cried out reactively, reaching for the hand with the wand. The moment he did though, the wand was forced in at four times the strength, pushing in not only the first ball in completely, but the next two after it as well. This made Path yelp as he was suddenly and painfully penetrated for the third time in his life in the tightest hole his body had to offer.

“You brought it on yourself,” said Sweet Mint, the pony inserting the solid object inside Pathfinder’s penis, directly into his ear to overcome Coloratura’s performance, “The bead wand is for dropping the drinks and breaking Society property, and that thrust was for attempting to halt your punishment. Besides, if you hadn’t gotten hard from watching the mistress’ performance, I wouldn’t have been able to penetrate you so easily.”

Path blushed, he had been slightly turned on, but it was because of Coloratura’s appearance on stage in that sultry and revealing outfit, not Schorl’s abuse on Sandbar.

“Now then, if you try to stop me again, I’ll push the rest in all at once. Do you understand?”

Pathfinder held his hands up the the sides of his head, and nodded, not wanting to experience the same pain he felt during his run in with Whiplash again. If he was going to get through this without his urethra being sore for a week, he had to let the maid have her way.

Seeing Path’s compliance, reluctant as it was, Sweet Mint continued her task. Slowly, steadily, she slipped more and more of the beads into Path’s flesh pillar, the stiff staff still receiving a good majority of pain as each bead passed through. Path endured it though, as best as he could, his grunts and groans being drowned out by the pop music filling the room.

Eventually, every last bead on the wand found their way inside, large bumps bulging out from the lower part of the pegasus’ cock. Assuming it was over, Path tried to relax, but was stopped from doing so as the unicorn tightened her grip on his sex organ, squeezing her finger in between the valleys the beads now made in his urethra.

Path continued to try and not resist, and for the most part he was able to keep his composure despite his heart pound hard against the inside of his ribcage. That was until Mint used her other hand to twist the handle of the wand. At first he winced, anticipating that the balls inside him were going to rotate, but the maid’s grip was too strong to let them budge. Instead, the handle began to turn without the rest of the wand following, until eventually, the maid mare unscrewed it altogether from the device.

As the handle separated, fear inside Path ignited, “What did you do?!” he yelled at the maid, his mind conjuring ideas of the bead stick being stuck in there forever, or that it might actually try to go deeper inside him than it already was.

Sweet strengthened her grip a bit more, just momentarily to remind Path of the position he was in, “Be still,” she commanded, revealing another small object that looked like a tiny shackle that couldn’t possibly fit around the wrist of an adult pony, “I’ve been trained to do this sort of thing without complications, so long as I’m not interrupted.”

Sweet Mint took the opened metal loop and put it around the base of Path’s cock, slipping its width snuggly between the bead at the very bottom of the wand, and the next highest one up the rod. By squeezing the two ends of the band together to form a complete ring, the metal object locked in place, allowing Mint to remove her hand as it hugged Path’s stiff sex organ instead.

“There,” said the unicorn, running a finger along the newly formed bulges in his erect flesh, “That will make sure the beads stay put.”

Path winced as he was touched, mostly in pain, but in a small way he could feel a bit of pleasure from this, with his abused and stretched out meat able to take in the sensation of touch much more easily.

“Everything looks good, so now you can get back to work.” said Mint, standing herself up. “And this time, don’t drop anything.”

The maid walked away to return to whatever duties she had, and Path could only reluctantly comply with her orders. If he wanted to see Scylla, the pegasus had to do a good job, even while there was a large, invasive object in his dick forcing it to full erection. Getting out of his chair, the sissified stallion went to get a tray and return to taking orders for the Society members.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room in a private booth, Scylla was just finishing up on the cider she had been provided, managing to make it last through the entirety of Schorl’s performance, and was now onto her second glass which was graciously provided by her current client.

“I didn’t know that Coloratura did shows in a place like this,” Scylla said to the pegasus sitting next to her, the alcohol in her system loosening up her nerves a lot since she first came into the clubroom.

“She’s a new addition to the Society’s roster of performers” The pegasus said as he rubbed on Charming Tales’ clit liberally, the mare not taking any measures to prevent him as she leaned back and moaned near silently to herself. “Her master, Svengallop, has been having her do a show here about once a week in order to advertise her talents to potential business partners.”

“I bet lots of ponies will want to have her sing for them once they see her here,” Scylla replied innocently, not even realizing the heightened sexual nature of the pop star’s performance. As she watched the flashy earth mare rub her exposed form, touching her curves all over between lines of lyrics, it just looked like a normal act.

“Well there is that,” The pegasus said, dipping a few of his digits into Charming’s slickened slit, “But ponies can also order her for private sessions, just like yourselves.”

Taking his hands off of the mares for a moment, the pegasus stallion grabbed a laminated menu from the table. Turning a few of its pages, he placed the menu in front of the kelpie for her to peruse through. Scylla was confused at first, assuming it would just have a list of food or drinks inside, but when she took a moment to look at what it held, she instead found several pictures of ponies.

“See, she’s right here.” the pegasus said, pointing to a picture of Coloratura, “Any member here who wishes to have some free time with a pop sensation can do so at the cost of a modest fee.”

Taking a closer look at the menu as she took a large sip of her cider, Scylla examined a box filled with text next to the image of the mare. It listed a lot of things about Coloratura, like her height, breast size, likes, dislikes, and other such details to inform those who rented her out exactly what they were going to get. At the very bottom of the box though, was the price for her service, which made Scylla cough up her drink so fast that small amounts hit her gills, cause a burning sensation to occur and further obstructing her breathing.

After a small bit of sputtering, Scylla managed to choke out, “That’s more than I make in a year!”

The pegasus chuckled at the girl, “I would assume so. You expect a celebrity like her to make the salary of a commoner?”

That wasn’t what surprised Scylla so much, as a famous mare would surely be worth more than she was. What was amazing was that the total Scylla saw was for a mere two hours with Coloratura. Remembering that all money made by slaves went directly to their masters, whoever owned the pop star was making a small fortune each time she was requested. To think that you could make that much on prostitution was amazing, and even more so that the one performing the act never saw a bit of it. The idea of it made the kelpie a bit woozy, or perhaps that was her drink getting to her. Honestly she was starting to feel a bit of a buzz, but the kelpie was trying her best to keep it together.

“Hey look at this,” Charming Tale said, having confiscated the menu, “We’re both on the list too.”

The unicorn scooted closer to the pegasus beside her, as did Scylla, in order to get a better look at the menu together. The two of them had their own page, along with the other of the Society’s elements, showing them off as a set. Each of them were given similar description boxes, just like the other available slaves, but their images were not simple headshots like the rest.

From the looks of it, Schorl had gotten a professional illustrator to make drawings of the six Elements of Servitude, ones made with incredibly realistic features that presented each mare, and gryphoness, in a sexually stunning and alluring nude pose. Looking at her own illustrated self made Scylla blush a bit, as she was being depicted as being timidly sweet, while also very womanly in the setting they had placed her in.

Probably to fit the member’s expected ideals of a kelpie, Illustrated Scylla was in a wading pool, hanging onto the side with her breasts resting on the concrete floor around it. Her backside was lifted up via buoyancy, allowing her tail and backside to be in view, letting the members get a good look at all the better features of the aquatic mare at once. For something that was created by the Society, it was a very artistic depiction of Scylla’s naked body, one that she would have been more in awe of if she wasn’t a bit tipsy.

Instead, the kelpie’s eyes glanced over the image, and back to the price Schorl had put on her body. “Wow,” Scylla said, “That’s like a month’s worth of bits for an hour with me.” Scylla was amazed that her body was worth so much, seeing herself as not being all that special when it came down to it.

“You have to understand,” said the pegasus, bringing Scylla’s glass back in front of her face, to which she took a drink from without thinking, “You are not only an exotic creature, but a high class commodity.”

“Oh, stop.” Scylla replied, enjoying the flirting she was receiving much more than she should have, considering that the stallion only wanted her for her body.

“Well it’s true. No matter where you all came from, no matter what common occupation you might have had, here you are special. You are important property to be maintained and groomed to be the sex toys of sophisticated ponies such as myself. Thus, you’re worth the bits we put into you, in order for us to get the quality we demand from those who work to pleasure us.”

“But you’re really willing to pay that much for a prostitute?” Scylla asked aloud, accepting to some degree that the title indeed fit her role as a slave.

“My dear Submission,” the pegasus said, referring to Scylla by her element designation as he had been the whole night, “I make that kind of money or more in the course of a day, and one doesn’t pay five bits for a corner whore when they can get a luxury mare like yourself.”

Scylla felt her heart skip a beat, her inhibitions dulled enough for her to be pulled in by the pegasus’ attempts at charm. There was something pleasing, and somewhat romantic, about being told that she was valued, even if only as a sex slave. To this stallion, she was not just a map maker, but an attractive mare that he would pay a hefty amount of money so he could share a bed with her.

“The both of you might be some pony’s property,” said the pegasus, “But that doesn’t mean that you’re being treated as less than you were. On the contrary, you are being made into your ideal images, tempered and forged into the treasures that you are suppose to be.”

Scylla was enamoured with the idea of being treated like treasure, something precious that was sought after and even fought over for ownership. Her face scrunched up with excitement, believing in her inebriated state the pegasus really felt this way about her.

Charming Tale, on the other hand, was not as under the influence as her associate, and was able to tell that this was all just flowery words coming from a source that wanted to take advantage of the two of them. She had written his character plenty of times in her erotic stories, and never were they as smooth as their depictions would make one believe. Still, she was a character in one of those stories now, and she had to play her part as well.

“And what would you have pieces of treasure like us do?” She asked, pretending to have been overcome by the pegasus’ charm, pressing her bare chest against his, a few pieces of thick fabric all that separated them from full on contact, “Surely there is some fantasies you would want fulfilled by our forms.”

“Heh,” the stallion laughed, believing his plans were going along as he predicted, “Well there is something you two can do, if you’d like to earn a few more tip slips.” He pulled out a stack of the near worthless slave currency and waved them in front of the two mares like they were made of gold.

“I would love to make some more spending money.” Charming replied, not really wanting the slips, but instead wanting to build a reputation.

As the kirin explained before, popularity and desirability were the most valuable things a Society slave could have. If the Society members paid for your use, your master would make more money off you. The more money they made, the better they would treat you, and the more breaks you were likely to get. For a pony who could no longer truly own anything, these privileges were the greatest things they could possess, and thus should be sought after feverently.

“Well then… How about a little sample?” The pegasus said, a devious smirk forming on his face.

“A sample?” Scylla asked, not able to decipher his implications in her state.

The pegasus laid his stack of paper currency on the table, and without hesitation undid his pants in front of the two mares, revealing that he had no additional articles of clothing on underneath as his semi-swelled cock was exposed.

“Just a little demonstration of your talents,” the pegasus explained, “So I can see if it really would be worth renting either of you.”

With the stallion’s attention turned to Scylla, Charming made a disgusted expression as she examined the dick. It was covered with sweat, the moisture giving the appendage a glistening sheen when the lights from Coloratura’s act slid across it. It had probably not been washed at all that day, and the unicorn didn’t believe this male was expecting a hand job.

“So, you want me to do this?” Scylla questioned as she lowered her upper body down, greeting the meaty horse dick with her face. With no reservation, she opened her mouth and lapped at the sex organ like it was a popsicle. A small touch here, and longer lick there, daintily pushing at the male’s privates with her tongue in a random pattern of brief contact.

In response, the stallions penis rose up, its thick stiffness going to near maximum from Scylla’s teasing. His wings likewise flickered with each wet touch of the kelpie’s tongue, the span of them growing wide, as well did the smile on his face as his plans came to fruition.

“That’s a good slave,” said the pegasus, sliding one of the tip coupons off his stack to Scylla’s side of the table, before using the same hand to grip her by the mane. “But use that tongue for more than tapping.”

The strong grip of her hair was rough, but not nearly to the extent of roughness she was use to with Rubric. Compared to how uncaringly her minotaur master handled her, this was both gentle and a little thrilling, at least with her thoughts the way they were. So at the stallion’s command, Scylla took her tongue and ran it from the bottom of the flesh rod, all the way to the head of it. Going over bulging veins filled with warm blood, and bloated flesh muscle that was becoming as firm as stone, the kelpie eagerly covered her mouth organ in the grime and dirt that had accumulated on the member’s shaft over the course of an unknown amount of time. She found the flavor of it much more acceptable to her palate than that of the bovine cum she had been force fed straight from the tap as of late, which had far too potent a sexual flavor for a pony to stomach without feeling queasy.

With Scylla firmly held in the palm of his hand, both figuratively and literally, the pegasus looked to Charming, “Obedience, are you really going to let your friend here do all the work?” he asked, a slight irritation in his words.

Charming, as much as she didn’t want to, had to agree with the slaver stallion’s sentiments. As a slave, and one that should be doing her best to present herself as desirable, she was doing a piss poor job selling herself. She had to get into character, become the sex slave the members expected, and make her mark in their eyes. First impressions were everything, afterall.

Remember, Charming thought to herself as she joined her face with Scylla’s at the stallion’s crotch, You’re on vacation.

With that little bit of mental motivation, the unicorn got to work. Wrapping her fingers around the base of the pegasus’ cock, she took an unhesitated taste at his stallionhood. There was more coating his shaft than that mere sweat she had assumed was there before, as a strong, sour taste hit her tongue immediately upon making contact. She was right to assume it hadn’t been wash, but hadn’t concluded that in a place like this he might have already used one of the other slaves for his amusement, that was until now. There was no denying the distinct flavor of mare that hit her senses, reminding her of the times she had sampled of her own juices for ‘research’ in her writing.

That knowledge didn’t hinder her though, Charming effectively turning off any voices that would prevent her from pleasing this stallion orally. She matched every saliva filled slurp that her kelpie partner made, and did her one further by pressing her lips against the flesh in her hand, giving it an occasional light suck in between her loving licks. To some extent, she had to out do Scylla. As much as they were both victims, and friends, they were also rivals. If she allowed Scylla to one up her too much, then it would come back to her in the form of a displeased minotaur.

The pegasus looked very pleased from Charming’s new position, the expression he made telling that he felt entirely responsible for getting the two girls on his cock, and not holding it into account that this was just what the Society expected of their slaves. Following another thing the kirin said before, it appeared this member enjoyed the idea of being smarter than the two slaves he had manipulated into giving him a free blowjob. Not only that, but being the first to use not one, but two of the new Elements of Servitude must have added to the feelings of smug satisfaction he was experiencing. In his mind, Scylla and Charming were like shy, reserved creatures, that he easy made do this lewd acts with a little coaxing and charm. True or not, this perceived reality made him happy.

And while in his own world, he saw no reason not to take full advantage of it. With no real need to keep the slave’s heads in place, he decided to put his hands to delightfully devilish use. With their focuses on satisfying his shaft, he extended his arms out to reach for their nicely rounded asses. Placing his hands on the two mare’s plump cheeks, he liberally squeezed their posteriors in his palms. Both the mares made sounds of elation from his touches, but did not deter from their duty towards the dick in front of them.

Establishing their dedication to their role, the pegasus decided to test things even further. “Both of you, lift your tails.”

The mares did as they were told, holding their tails upwards as much as they could. Their obedience was almost as pleasurable as their touches, but the stallion wanted to take it another step further. Groping his way around their asses, his fingers made their way to the mare’s lower lips. With a light pinch of their labia, he pulled the fatty flaps apart to open the holes that led to their wombs. He couldn’t see it, but just picturing what it looked like as they clean his cock was enough.

Well, not quite enough, as there was still one more thing that he wanted to explore while he had a private audience with the two. First, he needed something from the girls. Just a small something that would make this all the more easy.

“You know, you two have been doing a very good job cleaning me off.” said the pegasus, rubbing his fingers against whatever bits of pussy flesh they could find, “But you both still don’t seem all that into it. I only feel a little bit of wetness down here.”

Charming admittedly was only just getting in the mood, but using some depraved thoughts on eroticism she had stored in her head and a fondling of her own modest breasts, she was able to get her juices flowing fairly easily. Scylla, on the other hand, was working herself to a state of moistness without any outside influencers. Being there, in nothing but a slave collar, with a mind clouded from the danger she previously perceived, licking some stranger’s dick under the cover of a table, was exciting her to no end. Before long, both girls had their own streams of fluids trickling out of them onto the seat they laid across.

This was all the stallion needed, and as he played with their vaginal holes his fingers became saturated with their slick slit slime. Once satisfied, he went to the final phase of his plan. With a last synchronized lick of his fingertip against their soaked lady lips, he brought his fingers up across their taints, and before they realized what was going on, he had put his lubricated digits up to their anal holes, and drove them in with a single hard push.

Both slave mares halted their service towards the shaft in front of them, Scylla letting out a deep gasp, while Charming’s mouth released want could only be called the throaty moan of an anal whore.

“Ah ha,” the pegasus declared triumphantly to Charming, “Seems I found your weak point.”

Identifying that the unicorn’s asshole was very receptive, the stallion wriggled his fingers around a bit inside her, grabbing at the soft walls of her back passage. Charming’s reaction to this was a sight to behold, as her spine curved and her head flew back, eyes and mouth clenched as she tried to withhold her pleasure. The warmth of her insides was nice as well, and the texture of her pipes hugged his digits while giving against any force like a pillow. It was the kind of ass that made for an excellent cock sheath, and one that he anticipated reaming now that he felt it.

Scylla’s anal reactions were cute, but less impressive. As he fingered her more leathery textured intestines, she was doing her best to keep to her job, letting out small grunts as her tongue continue to do it’s best to get him off. To her credit, he was really close to shooting a load, but that wasn’t what he wanted. What he desired was a mare that he could make completely lose control.

All this time, he had intended to rent one of the mares if they sparked his interest, but he lusted over more than mere obedience and submission. What he wanted was the ability to bring one of these mares out of their shells completely, and to drive them wild with his sexual prowess. To have full control over these mares, still at a phase of their enslavement where they were reluctant to do the simplest of tasks without an impressive amount of coaxing and threats.

Seeing how wild a bit of anal fondling drove Charming, the pegasus’ decision was all but finalized. He was going to have to place an order for the lovely unicorn mare, as well as for a room for the evening.

“Waitress!” he called out to no pony in particular, not looking up from the two girls he was anally masturbating.

Just beyond the booth Scylla was at, Pathfinder was fulfilling his role as server to the best of his abilities. After the first incident with him, the members started treating him like any other slave pony there, refraining from the teasing the majority had participated in before. They had already gotten what they wanted out of him, having riled him up and gotten him in trouble for breaking Society property. Thus, they had little reason to do a repeat performance, at least so soon.

So the rest of his shift, up to this point, was fairly calm. The sissified pegasus male took his orders and delivered them with as much quality one could expect from a pony in his position, and the worst thing that happened was that one of the members would attempt to flirt with him for a few moments before he found an excuse to leave their table.

Things were going along smoothly, and he could only assume that his shift wouldn’t last much longer because the acts had stopped after Coloratura did a rendition of her hit song that was surely a Society exclusive, the mare having done all but cum on stage as she explored her body during the performance in lewd exhibition. Then again, maybe she had gotten off, because there was a slave mare on the stage with a mop and bucket.

It was all so bizzare, when Path thought about it. This place was filled with ponies, all under the understanding that the bodies of those serving ing there was on sale, and yet everyone was acting out the roles of the patrons and workers of an average strip club. Not a single person acted out of place, except for Path himself. The members showed no remorse for what they were doing, or pity towards those being held against their will, and the slaves did their best to keep said members happy through hard work and flirtatious demeanors.

There were a few who were more distant from those practically whoring out themselves to the members, like Path, but even they were acting more like they wanted to stay focused on their jobs than what he would assume victims of kidnapping and rape would be. It was all too… ‘normal’. A place of evil such as this shouldn’t have been able to create such an atmosphere where ponies could so casually commit crimes while their victims either collaborated with those unjustly imprisoning them, or passively allowing them to do as they pleased while you just watched from the sidelines.

Then again, maybe he had no room to judge. He wasn’t really doing anything more than any other pony in the room. He was just as whipped into his role as anypony else, if not more so, seeing as he currently had a bead wand shoved in his forcibly stiffened dick, and was acting like a common waitress despite it.

How did Schorl design a place where this sort of stuff could happen and no one bats an eye to it? Path thought to himself as he set a few more drinks in front of a pair of members, receiving a firm slap on his ass as a reward for his efforts. Ignoring the invasion of personal space, Path pondered on the topic of Schorl a bit more.

As her performance showed, she appeared to have some sort of power about her. It wouldn’t be strange if she had some sort of unique magic that aided her in operating this place, as unicorns often had access to spells that were contributed to their talents. What could it be though? Not something as simple as mind control, since that kind of power would make actual training almost unnecessary. Maybe she could create a pacification field of some sorts, or enchanted the slaves with something that caused them to perceive the perverse acts here as normal interactions. Path quickly dismissed the idea of the latter, as if that were the case he probably wouldn’t be wondering about all this in the first place. The former, though, did have some credibility from what he was seeing.

“Waitress!” the pegasus heard, drawing his attentions from his thoughts. A quick look in the direction of the call led him to a booth, and sitting there was another pegasus stallion with his hands down. Remembering what he was told by Mint, and recalling all the other times he was summoned that evening, he knew this meant that the member wanted a male waitress instead of a female one; one such as himself.

With tray in hand, Path made his way over. “Yes sir, how may I serve you?” he asked offhandedly, not really looking at the stallion as he awaited his orders.

“I need you to reserve a slave for me for the next few hours.” the other pegasus said, getting straight to the point.

“Reserve a slave?” Path questioned. He hadn’t had to do anything like that before, and Sweet Mint didn’t tell him what to do in the event of guests wanting to do so. “I’m... afraid I don’t know how to do that.”

“It’s not that hard,” said the stallion, “Just repeat what I say to your supervisor, and they will handle the rest. Understand?”

“Yes sir…” Pathfinder replied, though he really didn’t know where Mint had wandered off to either.

“I want to rent a standard private room for two hours, and want Obedience of the Elements to accompany me.” the stallion said.

The last part of the request confused Path, as he didn’t know what the ‘elements’ were, or what ‘Obedience’ referred to. To him, it just sounded like the stallion was jumbling his words. So to clarify, Path asked back to him “Obedience?”.

“This slut right here.” the pegasus said, removing his fingers from Charming Tale’s ass so he could take her by the collar and raise her head up into view. “You’re pretty clueless, aren’t you?”

“Sorry, I’m ne-” Path directed his eyes to the pegasus in order to get a look at the slave in question, but his heart sunk in terror when he noticed that the other stallion had two mares accompanying him. One was a unicorn, and the other, while he couldn’t see her face, he could tell was a kelpie from the large, aquatic tail poking out from the table’s horizon.

“Scylla?!” Path yelled in fear, the image of a mare’s head ducked under a table in the direction of a male’s crotch explaining everything about what was going on.

Hearing her name, Scylla lifted her head up to confirm Path’s assumptions, but couldn’t tell who Path was from a combination of the dim lighting, inebriated vision, and currently mare-ish looks.

“Do I know you?” she asked, her response somewhat callus towards what looked to be some random mare she had never met before.

“Yes, you know me!” Path said, in a panic, “I’m your father!”

“Oh!” Scylla responded, recognizing Path’s voice more than his appearance, “Hey dad, how have you been?”

“Wait, you’re her father?” said the member, a bit stunned. Taking in the situation, and realizing how he mistakenly had his fingers inside the mares when he called for a waitress, thus resulting in this mix up. “I see, so we have a dolled up twink in our presence.”

Scylla giggled at that comment, to which Path didn’t take too kindly to, yelling “Scylla!” again at his daughter to scold her for her faux pas.

“Sorry,” the kelpie apologized, while still laughing, “But he’s right. You look like a doll.” she said, not exactly knowing what the word twink meant.

Path couldn’t believe how his daughter, who had experienced the same violation as himself, could treat him being dressed like a girl against his will like it was a joke. It had to be more of Schorl’s influence, whatever it was she was doing. He had figured out one thing though, the crystal mare hadn’t done anything to prevent the slaves from getting angry, because at that moment Pathfinder felt like leaping the table and throttling the stallion for having his dick anywhere near Scylla.

In fact, that was exactly what he was going to do. Finding both sides of the stallion blocked by a body, going over the table to get to him was his best option. Putting his hands on the table top, Path lifted a leg up to place his knee onto the structure, ready to use it platform for him to leap at the other pegasus from. That was as far as he got though, as the moment he showed any aggression towards a member of the Society was the same moment a massive hand slammed down on the back of his neck.

With power that Path couldn’t hope to equal, the hand forced him forward, pressing his whole body flat on the table. Pathfinder’s rage quickly faded in his surprise, not knowing what had hit him. The way he was held, he couldn’t even turn his head to see what pinned him. But he came to a fast realization when he heard a familiar voice from behind.

“Is there a problem here?” said Schorl, meaning that the person pinning him down was her minotaur bodyguard. Path’s outbursts must have drawn her attention somehow, and with him focused solely on the bastard on the other side of the table, she and her muscle caught the drop on him.

“Don’t hurt my dad!” Scylla yelled out before another word was said, the attack on Path sobering her up a bit.

“Don’t worry, Submission,” said the stallion next to her in comforting tone, “No one is going to hurt him. We just need to make sure he doesn’t do something rash and hurt himself.”

“That’s right,” Schorl concurred, “Now that we have him restrained, we have no reason to do any more to him, so long as he relaxes and doesn’t resist.”

Path was disgusted by this turn of events, but he couldn’t fight back if he wanted to. As much as he loathed the stallion, Schorl, and his own weakness, he would have to do as the crystal mare said.

Pathfinder untensed his muscles, and in turn the minotaur on top of him eased up on his pinning just enough that it ceased to be painful. “It’s ok, Scylla.” he said, not wanting his daughter to panic. “They aren’t hurting me.”

“See, he’s not in trouble,” said the stallion, “Now how about finishing up what you were doing?”

“Do you want me to join too?” asked Charming.

“No, you have done enough,” said the member, “Just sit back and watch the kelpie.”

Path watched Scylla as she returned her head back below the table, a worried look in her eye.
While he couldn’t see what was happening, the noises she made, the look on the unicorn mare’s face, and his own imagination filled in details. Again he could feel his anger rising, but the second his muscles tensed up was the second the minotaur reminded him that he had no hope of saving his daughter from this situation.

In a matter of minutes, the stallion was ready to release his load, and with a grab of Scylla’s mane and a small thrust of his hips, he did just that. When finished, he let go of the kelpie girl, allowing her to rise back up as he placed his dick back into his pants. The white goo he had released was all over the front of her face, all in one large string that started at her forehead, and dripped down her furless feature, around the side of her muzzle to disappear into the collar around her throat.

“Have you been satisfied?” Schorl asked, taking Scylla’s service to be compensation for Pathfinder’s brashness.

“Not quite,” said the pegasus, grabbing his stack of tip slips and taking a few more off the top of it to place in front of Charming, “I was looking for a slave to play with tonight, and I was thinking about taking this unicorn and showing her how good I can make her feel.”

“So you would like me to set up a room for you and Obedience then?” Schorl asked, her professionalism showing at every part of this confrontation.

“No,” he said with a smug smirk and a shake of his head, “I’ve changed my mind. This girl’s father has shown me how very special she is, so I have decided to have her instead.”

“By all means,” Schorl said, seeing nothing wrong with the obvious motivations behind her client’s change of mind, “Just so long as you realize that her time will not be comped due to the rude behavior of another slave.”

“Oh, I intended to pay,” said the stallion, grabbing Scylla by the collar, “I am going to treat this mare with all the dignity that a slut of her caliber deserves, so that this femcolt knows that I not only bought his daughter’s body, but that she loved every second of it.” The pegasus member gestured for Charming to move aside, and she did as she was instructed, letting the stallion out of the booth with Scylla in tow.

As he headed for the club’s exit, Schorl gave him a small polite bow. “Please enjoy your time with her, and thank you for using our services again.”

The stallion didn’t reply, as there was nothing more that needed said. He had gotten everything he wanted from this, while Path was left with nothing. The kelpie in his firm grip hardly had enough time to give Pathfinder a departing sorrowful look, not concerned about herself, but her father’s own safety. As soon as she lost line of sight with him, she could only hope that nothing bad would happen in her absence.

Once the two left the room, Schorl brought her attention to more pressing matters, mainly the one being pressed against the table. “Miss Tale, go make your availability known to the other members. Your time has been hoarded all evening, and they will be glad to know you are now open.”

“Yes ma’am.” Charming said, not needing any more excuse to leave. She didn’t want to get wrapped up in whatever punishment Pathfinder was going to recieve.

Schorl watched the unicorn flee, and when she had got a significant distance away, she found herself able to address the problem at hand. “Did you enjoy your small moment of rebellion, Mister Finder?” She said, clasping her hands together behind her back as she leaned herself over the pinned pony.

Path, still fuming from what that other stallion did to his daughter, grumbled in response, before answering with a simple “No”.

“Of course you didn’t.” Schorl replied, his answer a forgone conclusion to her even before he uttered it, “Because hostile behavior was never going to go any further than it did. Do you believe that you encountered Scylla here on accident? It was part of my plan that you two would meet here, as part of the agreement we made.”

“Agreement?” Path said, before recognizing her meaning, “You mean that you’d let me see her?”

“Yes, and as you can see she is fine. Perfectly safe, and not harmed in any way. Had you not acted in anger, I would have even let you speak to her, but now I see that it is far too soon to have you both in the same room with one another.”

Path didn’t like what Schorl was saying, but had no way of going against her. Plus, he was still worried about that odd power he believed she displayed on stage. “Fine, I get it. You can get your guard off me.”

“Can I?” Schorl asked, bending over the table, pressing her chest and face against it to mirror Path’s forced pose. Her eyes widened to a full stare that was as if she were peering into his soul, but unnerving as it was Path kept his will strong, “From what I see you still have a powerfully defiant streak brewing inside you. That’s not the type of thing I can have in a free roaming slave. How can I trust you to do as you are told, or not to do something foolish when I’m not looking.”

“You still have Scylla, don’t you?” Path reasoned, “I can’t do anything if that might cause her to get hurt.”

“Do you think me a monster?” Schorl asked, completely unironically, “I would never punish a slave for the actions of another slave. You however, will have to take responsibility for what you have done.”

“What do you want me to do then?” Path said, having no reason to take Schorl by her word, but had hope that Scylla wouldn’t suffer if he went along with her will. She was a sadist, after all, so seeing him suffer would provide her with the type of entertainment her perverse mind craved.

Picking herself off of the table, Schorl went on to explain what she had in mind. “I think it’s time that you and I had some alone time,” she said, maintaining her tone of professionalism. “Perhaps if we have a little talk, where I can explain myself to you in ways that are… persuasive to a stallion of your upbringing, then you will see that what I do isn’t all that bad. That it can be a useful function to help our slaves grow, and become better ponies.”

“Doubtful,” Path objected.

Schorl rolled her eyes, gesturing to her bodyguard to lift Pathfinder up using her fingers. The minotaur complied, pulling the pegasus to his hooves while keeping a firm grip on Path’s arms with one hand, and his neck with the other.

“You will find, Mister Finder, that I can be very convincing.” said Schorl. “Now come along, we are going to my room.”

Having no ability to resist, Pathfinder was escorted out of the club, with very few ponies batting an eye at the scene of a minotaur manhandling another of their kind. This must have been all to common for them, and thus not something worth paying attention to. That was fine for Path though, as he had other things to worry about now. He had made it out of the lion’s den, but now he was going to be staring down the head lioness herself.

Author's Notes:

So here we are with the conclusion to Scylla and Pathfinder's brief visit into one of the club areas of the Society, both performing their roles as a serving slaves. After this three parter, we will be moving along to other things between the two, which I hope will be enjoyable, as i hoped this part was as well.

The song Schorl sung was a slightly altered version of the song "All Eyes on Me" by OR3O. You can find a link to the song here: Original and The version Schorl's performance was based on.

Our special guest pony today is Sandbar, whom is considered to be of proper raping age (18+) for the purposes of this story.

Private Time

Minutes after his attempted assault of a Society member, Pathfinder was escorted from the club room against his will by none other than Schorl Tourmaline herself, the mare only giving him enough time to be stripped of the dress he had been made to wear. Schorl had not bothered to have his hooves or hands bound, nor did she go through the effort of blindfolding him or doing anything else that would leave him helpless to her. All she had done was attach a leash to his collar, and told him to follow.

The two were not alone, as she had brought along with them the pony she had used as a prop in her stage performance, whom he recalled was named Sandbar, who was likewise leashed and made to follow the purple mare to whatever fate she had in store for them. There was also Sartek, the tower of muscles in minotaur form that served as Schorl’s personal bodyguard, walking just behind the two stallions to help motivate them along. Each time either of them let their leash grow taut, he would urge them to keep up with a not so gentle shove to the back of the head.

While Path humored thoughts of grabbing his leash and using it to pull his crystal captor to the ground, the pegasus was well aware that while his body was not restricted, he had no control over the situation. With a minotaur behind him, the halls around him narrow and their paths unknown to the pegasus, and the earth pony aside him shaking in fear as he focused his eyes to the floor, Path had nothing to work with. The female pony daintily tugging at the leather cord hooked to his collar might as well have been a full grown adult dragon with all the power she held.

So he walked, obediently going where the Society’s head mistress wanted him to go, hands never raising above waist height, always making sure that his hooves moved him fast enough to not provoke Sartek’s hand too often. As things were now, there was nothing he could do otherwise. He was, unfortunately, just a slave at the mercy of his owner.

“You know, Mr. Finder,” Schorl said suddenly, after having made a half dozen turns silently through the maze that was the Society’s halls, “Some of my clients would find your resistance a welcome attribute to your person.”

The crystal pony paused for a few seconds, enough time for Path to give his own comments to her random line of dialog. He didn’t reply though, not believing that any amount of witty banter, if he could even muster up anything that could be considered that, would do anything but make things worse for him.

Once his permitted speaking time expired, Schorl just went on talking without Pathfinder’s input. “There are a few members here that like a good fight. They have us lock them in a room with an untrained slave, unbound and unrestricted, so they ‘earn’ the right to rape them through physical domination. A few times, a member has even challenged their victim to fight them in a one on one boxing match or some other such sport, offering to purchase them and free them should they manage to beat them in a fair fight.”

“And you allow them to make those kind of deals?” Path asked, his curiosity that such a thing could exist in the Society overpowering his want to stay silent.

“Not really, but these kind of arrangements happen behind my back. It’s not usually a problem though, as those who make such offers are the physically active types, and would never lose in a ‘fair’ fight against those they challenge.”

“So you wouldn’t honor such an agreement, even if the pony did somehow win?” Path asked, just wanting to be sure.

“Heavens no,” Schorl said, getting a small laugh out of the fact that a question like that was even asked, “Freeing a slave would only cause trouble to the Society in the long run, and in that unexpected scenario I would have to refuse the purchase of the slave, which is something that the challenger would already know I’d have to do in this situation, of course. That is not the point of this conversation though.”

Of course it isn’t. Path thought to himself, already figuring out where this was heading.

“I only tell you this so that you understand that if you wish to be hostile towards our patrons, there are those who would gladly indulge in your aggression.” Schorl smiled to herself, dwelling on a pleasant thought, before finishing her sentiment by saying, “There is no way you can behave that can’t be packaged and marketed to our members as a commodity.”

“So you’re threatening to let them brutalize me if I don’t get in line?” Path asked, knowing well that this was the case.

“No,” Schorl objected, though immediately contradicted herself in the pegasus’ eyes by then saying, “I’m giving you a choice in what kind of slave you want to be. Because no matter what you do, you will be a slave. That fate was decided the moment you and your daughter were selected.”

“Well then,” Path said, ready to give the crystal mare’s offer the respect that he felt it deserved, “Can I be the kind of slave who gets to live in his own home, and who’s owner lets him live his life the way he wants to?”

For his sarcastic reply, Schorl wrenched his leash forward with as powerful a tug as she could muster, which made both him and Sandbar, whose leash was in the same hand, stumble over their own hooves for a few steps. As he had assumed, his smart mouth was only met with swift retribution.

However, Path’s sass didn’t appear to dampen Schorl’s mood at all. In fact, it seemed to brighten it, as within the same motion of yanking the leather straps securely around her wrist, she turned around to face her captives, wrapping the cords around her back, as the unicorn began to walk backwards towards their destination. She did this all with a bemused smirk on her face, as if to say to Path that nothing he could do could bother her.

“I see you see this all as a joke,” said Schorl, her usual reserved demeanor shifting slightly to one expressing great joy at the power she had over the two males now in front of her, “But why is that? Here I am, leading you to some mysterious destination, where no doubt something awful is about to befall you. Yet instead of giving this the proper respect it deserves, you have chosen to make snide remarks. You can’t assume this gives you any leverage over me, so why make things worse for yourself?”

The way Schorl laid this all out for Path was unsettling, mostly because of how manically happy she was to have an opportunity to ask this question of Path. The pegasus really didn’t know how to respond to this, as he had told himself earlier that words would only make things worse for him, so why did he so easily break his own rule? Simple answer, Schorl got him talking and he didn’t know when to stop. That didn’t account for the sarcastic remark he gave her though, as if he wanted to avoid conflict he could have stuck to submissive responses.

“Just a knee jerk reaction, I suppose.” he answered, feeling that he had to say something.

“Or maybe…” Schorl said, putting on her devilishly sly expression, “You enjoy the negative attention you get from acting out.” The purple mare gave her body a complete spin, encircling the leashes she held once around her torso. This brought both her captives unwillingly closer to her, enough that each now had to watch where they placed their hooves in order to prevent them from stepping over one another.

Schorl herself had her eyes aiming downwards, assumedly to keep track of her own footing in this awkward dance she had created, “You would not be the first submissive to act out in order to be punished. Some desire the firm strike of their owner’s hand so much that they will do whatever they can to receive it.”

“I’m not a masochist,” Path objected.

“Nor do you need to be,” Schorl replied, “It’s not the pain these types crave, but only the immediate attention and contact of the one who dominates them.”

“I don’t-!” Path wanted to adamantly refuse, but he relented. This felt like another trick of Schorl’s to either get him to do what she wanted, or talk him into getting himself into more trouble, and he had to watch his step mentally as much as he was currently doing so physically.

As much as he hated to admit it, Schorl did seem to play by some sort of rules. Ones of her own creation, and that no one appeared to know outside of herself, but her behavior always felt consistent. So unless he gave her a reason to punish her further than he had already earned, she would not do so.

Taking one step back in his mind, he started over with what he wanted to say, “With all do respect, I’m not that kind of pony.”

“Is that so?” Schorl asked, keeping her eyes at their downward angle, “Then would you explain this?” Giving that vague warning, Pathfinder had no ability to stop her as she took her free hand and grabbed hold of his dick. “This little guy was poking himself out the moment I started airing my thoughts about your hidden desires. It’s pretty hard too, considering that I’ve only started touching it.”

Path stopped walking immediately once grabbed, as did Schorl in response to him halting, and Sandbar when he realised that Schorl had ceased stepping backwards. Pathfinder hadn’t noticed that his penis had, of its own accord, decided to poke itself out of its sheath. His mind was on more pressing matters at the moment, and he would have believed that his body knew when it was a bad time to get aroused. With his ever hardening cock in the crystal mare’s fondling hands, the pegasus learned that such a belief was wrong.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Path said, blushing profusely as he denied the pleasant warmth covering his sensitive, exposed flesh. “It just got that way because your body got close to mine, that’s all.” He tried focusing more on where he was walking to block out the unmistakable sensation of pleasure created by the mare’s stroking hand, but little by little, it crept into his being.

“If that’s the case,” Schorl said, the enjoyment of all of this saturating her words, “Then why are you fully erect when Sandbar isn’t showing any signs of arousal.”

Path reactively looked to the crotch of the stallion aside him, and as the mare had said, he was showing no signs of arousal despite being just as close to Schorl as he was. Lifting his gaze from Sandbar’s privates, he could see that the slightly younger stallion was doing his best to not be part of this at all, averting his gaze and keeping quiet all throughout, only shaking slightly out of fear of what the mare mere inches away from him might do to him.

“As you can see, Mr. Finder, Sandbar here is not the least bit interested in the proximity of my body. Unlike you, he has a complete lack of desire in my form.” Schorl released Path’s dick, and unwound the leash from around herself to make distance between herself and the stallions, much to the relief of the stallions. “You do have a point though. Our bodies do react in ways that we believe we don’t want them to at times. But perhaps that is just telling of what it is we truly desire.”

After that exchange, Schorl had to give another tug of the leashes to get the males moving again, with Path now at a complete loss of both words and responses. Everytime he did something that he thought was his own action, Schorl had used it to take more of the little ground he had left. Entering conversation with the crystal mare felt like entering a battlefield, with skirmishes won and lost at the ending of a sentence.

“And we’re here.” The purple mare said, stopping at one of the numerous doors found in the Society’s halls. Sartek, acknowledging his employer’s statement, stepped forward and opened the door for his employer, standing aside as he did so Schorl could take her slaves in.

Once inside, Path found himself in what looked like a normal, if overly luxurious, bedroom. Soft carpeting, a nightstand, dresser, a large bed with tall bed posts and overhanging drapes that looked like it could hold at least the three ponies in the room, and a couple of doors off to the side that were most likely a closet and a bathroom, with the aroma of freshly cut roses perfuming the air. It was not at all what Pathfinder was expecting, which was some sort of dungeon-esque chamber like the ones he had been held in previously. A place where Schorl would be able to torture him for his disobedience in thematic surroundings, not a cozy room like the one he was now in.

“Will you need anything else?” asked Sartek, standing outside the doorway, his massive form making it so he would have had to crouch down to get inside.

“Not right now, you can leave us,” Schorl replied to the minotaur, “but have one of the deer deliver a chilled bottle of wine later.”

Having been given his instructions, Sartek closed the door to the room. Shortly after shutting, a loud clicking noise sounded, indicating that he had also locked the door. Path immediately noticed that there was no turn handle or door knob dial to unlock it from this side of the door, so all three of the ponies were now entrapped inside, or so it appeared. Schorl probably had some means of escape if she needed it, but she must have been fairly confident to place herself in such a precarious position with two unbound stallions.

“Ahh, finally some time to relax.” she said, casting aside the leashes in her hand. Freed from her grip, they swung over to the males they were attached to and dangled from their throats. “Make yourselves comfortable you two, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Schorl went through one of the other doors, leaving the two stallions to their own devices as she closed it behind her.

Path looked over to Sandbar, who in turn gave the older stallion a timid look out the corner of his eye, clearly not wanting to look Path directly in the face. Pathfinder assumed that the other male was still feeling intimidated by what Schorl did to him in the club room, and who could blame him. How Sandbar felt wasn’t a priority at the moment though.

After the initial moment with the earth pony, Pathfinder started going around the room, investigating everything except the door Schorl went through. As he assumed before, there was no unlocking mechanism on this side of the door, so unless it was broken down, there would be no exiting from this room until someone came for them. That didn’t seem like a feasible option, not only because Path would have no idea where to go once accomplishing that, but because the door looked rather sturdy.

The next location he wandered to was the third door in the room, the one that had yet to be opened, and whose contents were still a mystery. With a turn of the handle, Path slowly cracked open the door and peeked inside to find… the bathroom. That was odd, as he had assumed that the room Schorl had gone into was the bathroom, and that she was freshening up. Now he was more curious about what room she entered, as it looked too big for a closet from what little glimpse he had gotten when she opened it. Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to risk drawing Schorl’s attention back to him sooner than necessary just to satiate his curiosity.

The next things to look over in the room was the dresser and the nightstand drawers. He opened them one by one, and found exactly what he thought he might. Inside were a variety of sex toys and small bondage objects. Ball gags, bit gag, dildos, anal plugs, handcuffs, leather masks, crops, paddles, and an assortment of other items one would expect in a place that catered to those who enjoyed BDSM, which just seemed like something slavers would have a general interest in.

“Hey, I don’t think that Lady Tourmaline would want us snooping around.” Sandbar said, finally saying something to his fellow slave, becoming discontent while watching Path do a bunch of things that could get them both in trouble.

“She said to make ourselves comfortable,” Path said back to him, going over to the bed to see if it was more than meets the eye, “And I’m not going to be comfortable until I see what she has planned for us.”

Comfort, of course, was not on the minds of either stallion. They both had come to the same natural assumption that the crystal mare was going to do something awful to them, which by now was more a foregone conclusion. What Path wanted to know was the extent of what could happen to him, so he could be mentally prepared for his inevitable violation.

“Just as I thought…” Path muttered aloud upon finding a few sets of chained shackles attached to the bottom of the bed, no doubt hidden from sight to catch a Society member’s chosen victim unaware. That and the gear in the dressers aside, the room was fairly normal. Not too much that could be used to restrain or entrap somepony, at least not that his quick search could reveal.

As he finished looking about the room, the door Schorl had gone through opened, and out came the crystal mare with a tray filled with small snacks in hand. Aside from that, there was nothing changed about her. She was still in her fitted evening gown that nearly matched the color of her fur, giving her the illusion of being nude without actually being so, and she still wore that confident smile on her face that told anyone who saw it that she didn’t have a worry in the world, despite the fact that she was trapped in a room with two stallions who could easily overpower her if they tried.

“So who’s hungry?” asked the mare as she set the tray on the bed, letting Path see from his kneeling position the assortment of sliced vegetables and fruits it held, “Sandbar, I know you haven’t eaten yet, so come and get something.”

The earth stallion, who hadn’t moved an inch from the moment Schorl let go of his lead, came over at her command, taking several carrot and apple slices from off the plate before shoving them in his mouth.

Schorl, happy with Sandbar’s compliance, then set her sights on the pegasus next to her, “Mr. Finder, would you like something to eat? Or would you like to continue checking the room for restraints?”

“Did I make it that obvious?” Path had believed he had replaced the shackles before Schorl had the chance to see him looking around, believing for a moment that Sandbar was right and it would be bad to be caught snooping. In reality, Schorl didn’t seem to care in the slightest about him finding the bed’s hidden restraints, and in retrospect, there was little reason to assume she would.

“Well, either you were checking the room’s potential for hazards,” Schorl said with mischief raising up from her normally professional tone, “Or you were prepping yourself to give someone the tonguing of a lifetime. Whether it was me or Sandbar, I was willing to let it be a pleasant surprise.”

Path’s eyes went wide, his mind translating that statement into Schorl saying that had he not fessed up, or tried to make excuses, she would have gladly let the pegasus talk himself into having to orally pleasure one of the other occupants of the room. Was she capable of such manipulation of a conversation? If so, he was glad that he avoided that altogether, cause performing cunnilingus on his captor didn’t sit well with him, and sucking off a guy was out of the question completely.

“But enough of that,” Schorl said, grabbing a slice of purple skinned fruit from her tray, “Relax, have something to eat, take some time off of your chosen profession of ‘full-time prison breaker’.”

Pathfinder hesitated, for a couple of reasons. He still wanted to give the room one more look over, but he couldn’t really do that with Schorl standing there watching him. He also didn’t trust the food, as even if the mare was eating off of it, all that meant was she could be avoiding any drugged food she had placed on it. Then again, he really didn’t know how easy it was to drug food without it being noticable, he just knew of such things from works of fiction.

Schorl, sensing the pegasus’ distrust, decided to concede to his well warranted fear. “If it will put your mind at ease, the only hidden devices were the shackles under the bed. If you checked the drawers, then you have seen every tool I have at my disposal, save for what is in the supply closet, and I’d have to go back in there to retrieve anything extra. Also, you don’t have to worry about me doing anything to the food. Everything on the plate has not been tampered with, and is safe to consume.”

“Are… you reading my mind?” Path asked, wondering how she could be so precise about his thoughts.

“No, I’ve just had this conversation more times than I can count by now.” said Schorl, smirking in bemusement as she reflected on previous times she had to say these exact words, “And just in case the thought crosses your mind, I wouldn’t attempt to assault me or hold me hostage. While I am physically weak, I assure you that I’m very durable, and while I am stuck in here with the both of you until someone else arrives, it is possible for me to call someone who would be here within seconds should the need arise.”

Schorl appeared to have her bases covered, and judging by the way she said it, these were all scenarios that she was far too familiar with to leave room for error.

“So what’s this about?” asked Pathfinder, Schorl having peaked his interest ever so slightly. She didn’t simply want to use his body or to punish him for his poor behavior in the club room. If that were what this was, then he would have already been bound in some form that would give her free reign to do as she pleased. As things were, she didn’t seem to have any power over him that he didn’t give her, that is unless she was intending to use Scylla as leverage.

“The ‘purpose’,” Schorl replied, picking up the tray to offer Pathfinder some food personally, “Is for you and I to reach an understanding. No matter how you feel about me, the truth is that I am only doing what I feel is best for you and your daughter.”

“Best for us?” Path questioned in disgust, still staying from taking anything off the plate, “We know what is best for us. You have just been torturing us since the day you dragged us into this place.”

“I can understand how you could see things that way,” said Schorl, “But that is just a perspective you are creating in your mind. If you wanted to, you could really enjoy yourself here. I know, because Scylla has been through things that could be considered much worse than you, form a certain perspective, and she seems to be happy sucking on the cock of a complete stranger. In public no less.”

“That’s not her,” Pathfinder objected, “That’s something you put into her head to make her act that way.”

That got a short laugh out of Schorl, and set the tray back down on the bed “Mr. Finder, do you assume to know everything about your daughter?”

“Enough to know she isn’t a pervert.” Path answered.

“And can the opposite be said of you?” Schorl asked, “Does Scylla know everything about you? How you and your gryphon associate were in an active BDSM relationship? If she knew that, then it could have given her a few ideas of her own about her sexuality.”

“I…” Path stalled. He and Anya often made reference to the time that they were lovers, but they never went in detail about what went on behind closed doors. “I don’t think she knows about that.”

“So you’re saying that it is possible to keep secrets from other ponies if one tries hard enough.” Schorl said, delivering the true point behind her line of questions. “Just like I’m sure you didn’t know that she has a book collection of erotic novels in her closet, ones that depict scenarios not too dissimilar to what she is experiencing now.”

Path, in fact, didn’t know that. He had always allowed Scylla to have her privacy and hadn’t snooped around her room without her knowledge. How Schorl knew that when he didn’t was a mystery, but he had no reason to believe that wasn’t true.

“Your daughter is currently experiencing her most desired sexual fantasy first hand, and is very much enjoying her time here.” Schorl continued, “Being used for her body by a bunch of strong, attractive men. Adored as a sex object whose purpose is to give and be given pleasure. She is in her own erotic paradise, one she can’t escape, and wouldn’t want to if given the chance.”

“That’s not…”

“What? ‘True’? ‘Right’? ‘Normal’?” Schorl scoffed, “That is exactly what I am getting at. While I will never claim that every slave here wants to be here, there are those who do wish to be put into this role of helplessness, or simply wish to serve others. To be a device for somepony else’s happiness, to be rewarded for performing their role as a servant with pleasurable gestures, and even punished when their owner sees fit. You have dipped your hooves into the thrill of that lifestyle before, so how can you not see this as desirable?”

“That’s not the same,” Path argued, “You forced her to do this. She wasn’t allowed to make a choice.”

“Yet she’s enjoying herself,” Schorl stated bluntly, “And that enjoyment is brought about because I’ve put her into a position that she would have never been in had she been left to her own devices. I think that you and I both know Equestria is not the best place to explore taboo kinks like the kind she has developed.”

Schorl wasn’t completely true with what she was saying. It’s not like Equestria was so prudish that things like bondage were outlawed, but if you were a pony into that sort of relationship, it was common practice to keep it private. So private that it was difficult to find a partner who was also into it, because it just wasn’t talked about regularly. Anya had to practically drag him into their first intimate session together, and despite enjoying it immensely, Path never worked up the nerve to share his discovered kink with anyone outside of her.

“I believe I have said this countless times before, to countless ponies” Schorl continued, “But our function is not to make ponies miserable, or even to cater to the rich and powerful. It is to fulfill the deeply hidden desires of those within our walls. That doesn’t just mean our dominant members, but our submissive slaves as well, at least when the desires of our slaves doesn’t conflict with that of our clients. We are a business after all, and those of your occupation don’t have the finances needed to cover the expenses you accrue during training and upkeep.”

“So you’re trying to say the only reason I’m not happy with you kidnapping me and dressing me up like a mare is because I’ve chosen to be unhappy?” Path said, the notion no less ridiculous spoken aloud than as it was thought in his head.

“Essentially,” Schorl replied without the slightest hint of sarcasm or irony, “I would love to have you enjoy my facility, if simply to get you to not make random attacks against our members.”

“It wasn’t ran-” Path started to object, but Schorl silenced him by placing a finger on his lips.

“The reason doesn’t matter, only the behavior.” said the crystal mare, removing her finger after, “Getting my slaves to enjoy enslavement is a goal of mine, if at all possible. However, the wants of my clients will always come first, as they should.”

Path didn’t like that little clause Schorl put at the end of her statement, as it just meant that any complaints he might have would be ignored if it didn’t fit her objectives. Not that this was news to Path, but with his conclusion that he had before about her following a set of rules, he wanted to believe that if he could catch her out in something contradictory to what she said, then he could get some form of leverage over her. Ever the wordsmith, Schorl had already denied him that possibility.

“So…” said Schorl suddenly, using this as a leaping off point for her last subject, “How about I show you how happy I can make you, even ‘against your will’.”

“I’ll pass,” Path answered, though not really believing he had a choice.

“Oh really?” Schorl questioned aloud. Path expected her to follow that up with something like ‘well that’s not your decision to make’, but instead he was surprised with her saying, “And here I was going to give you something you’d really like if you cooperated with me just this once.”

Path assumed she meant some form of sex, which was the last thing the pegasus felt he wanted right now, even with a mare as admittedly attractive, if outright terrifying, as Schorl. “I’m really not in the mood to fuck.”

“Mr. Finder,” Schorl said, returning once more to her bemused state, “Sex is the activity to get the reward, not the reward itself.”

“Then… what’s the reward?” Path asked, knowing the question was being demanded of him.

“If you comply with what I wish to do with you, then I’ll allow you a special privilege. It’s not one that I usually permit, but seeing your special circumstance, and that you are the first of your kind here…”

“Not to disrespectful,” Path said, cutting off the crystal unicorn for once, “But could you get to the point?”

Schorl gave her head a light shake as she rolled her eyes, doing her best to not let Path’s out of turn talking get to her, “Be my sex toy for the evening, and I’ll set up a room where you and Scylla can reside together when not in use, so long as you both behave.”

“That’s… well… not too bad a deal…” Pathfinder admitted. If he was allowed to have a room with Scylla, then he would have to worry about her a little bit less throughout the day. “Wait, this isn’t going to be some sort of thing where ‘you can be together, but we expect you to fuck each other’ thing, is it?” While Pathfinder and Scylla were not biologically related, one of the most disgusting things the pegasus could think of was having to have sex with the mare he raised.

“Of course not,” Schorl reassured, “Though you may have to be nude in front of each other, and you might have to be present when the other is servicing a member, but that is nothing you haven’t gone through already.”

This deal, while not ideal, was putting things more in Path’s favor than they had been for a while. This meant that at the very least he wouldn’t have to spend any more nights in the aviary, or so he assumed, as Scylla didn’t fit the theme of that room. He would be able to talk to Scylla directly, see what they had done to her, and try to keep his daughter’s mind away from corruption - all for the cost of compliance.

“Ok, I agree.” Path said, finding the terms acceptable, “I’ll do anything you tell me to do, but don’t expect me to like it.”

“Fine, but don’t blame me if you end up loving what I do to you.” Schorl said, teeth on full display as she smiled as terrifyingly wide as she could. The sight of that smile was already causing Path’s dick to shrivel, and in turn gave him a bit more confidence that he wouldn’t enjoy this in the slightest.

“So… what do I have to do?” Path asked, preparing for the worst.

Schorl’s horn glowed, and the two males in the room watched as she employed basic unicorn telekinesis to open the dresser drawers, and retrieve several belted straps. “Sandbar, go sit in the corner. You may observe until I give you instructions to do otherwise.”

“Yes ma’am,” the earth stallion said timidly, going over to an empty corner on the opposite side of the room from the bed, sitting on the floor with his back placed within its groove.

“And as for you,” said Schorl, addressing her new partially willing plaything, “Go stand in front of the bed, facing inwards.”

Path got up off the mattress, and did what he was told without question. Schorl’s game was on, and in order to get his promised reward, he would play the role of the obedient slave for what he hoped would be a few hours at most.

Seeing Path do as he was told, Schorl looped two of the belts she received into their buckles, then sent them hovering just above the pegasus’ head on either side. “Arms up.” she then commanded, making her orders simple and precise.

Path lifted his arms up, placing them into the leather loops, assuming that was where Schorl wanted them. The straps tightened the moment his wrists passed through them, though only enough so he couldn’t take his hands back out. With the slack that remained, a pair of leather straps made their way into the newly formed cuffs, going about half way before tugging against the pegasus’ arms.

The newly created bonds started pulling at Path’s arms, but barely got them to budge from their spot. “Mr. Finder,” Schorl said, giving her plaything a sly sideways glance, “I don’t know how you performed with your previous partners, but I don’t expect to do all the work here. This is a mutual relationship, and you must give as much as you receive, if not more.”

Pathfinder curled his lips downward at Schorl’s attempts at humor, but gave in to her request. As he relaxed himself, the two straps spread his arms apart to the two tall bed posts on either side of him. Once within range of them, the leather bands wrapped around the thick wooden rods in the same fashion as the belts around his wrists, with all four straps closing tightly and buckling themselves shut.

With the stallion bound, the crystal mare turned her body on the mattress she had been sitting on, and crawled herself over to see her captive’s defenseless body up close. Schorl stood on her knees atop the bed, placing her chest level with that of Pathfinder’s.

“Comfy?” she said in feigned concern for the male, her hands already finding their way to his bare chest.

Path gave the bands a few pulls. The leather was thick, and the wood he was now connected to was strong. “It’s a little tight,” he complained, their grip feeling just shy of cutting off blood flow to his hands.

“You will have to endure it,” Schorl said, placing her hands on the pegasus’ pectorals, using his chest to support her weight while she brought her muzzle up to his. “We can’t have you…”

Without warning, Schorl placed her lips on Path’s. In his surprise, the stallion tried to pull away, but the mare pressed further into him to make sure he could not escape. Next thing Path knew, he was in an awkward, one sided kiss, with Schorl sliding her tongue through his lips and around his teeth. Then, in another unexpected action, the mare retrieved her tongue and bit down on Path’s lower lip with enough pressure to break skin and draw blood.

Feeling pain, Path immediately tried to escape, which Schorl allowed. All he felt was a light tug before she parted her teeth, and the piece of mouth flesh was freed. As Path felt his lip swell, he watched Schorl lovingly lick her front teeth, her face showing a deal of pleasure as she tasted the small amount of the stallion’s blood on her teeth, before finishing her previous sentence by saying “...Slipping away.”

As Path reflected on the ache in his lip, the mare moved herself off the bed. Placing her hooves back on the ground, she made her way to her captive’s backside, with the pegasus barely able to follow her movements with his head as she did.

“Don’t you worry,” Schorl said while taking the stallion’s tail in one hand, moving the long strands of hair out of the way so she could more easily caress his flank with her other, “While it is in my power to make you suffer, that bite will be all the pain I will inflict on you tonight. Something to help contrast the undeniable pleasure you will soon feel.”

Schorl rubbed her small, feminine fingers into the plump pegasus’ plot, sending severe sensations through the sensitive stallion’s spine and into his brain. Path panted as the pleasant pressure poured into him, the whispers of a moan slipping out of his throat within a minute.

“I see that the chemical therapy we’ve been giving you is affecting you nicely,” Schorl stated, giving the stallion’s rump a mild slap that struck through his being like lightning.

As Schorl was referring, Path had been subjected to more than just a single dosage of the chemicals he was injected with when he was first processed. Recieving what he assumed were daily shots, his body was altered in ways Pathfinder wished he could deny. It felt like his insides were somehow rewired, like all his most erogenous spots were directly hooked up to one another, and every touch was shared between them. Thus, a simple smack on his ass caused a chain reaction that made his dick swell in joy, the plumped-up penis standing proudly over the footboard of the bed he was attached to.

As intense as it was, though, Path could handle it. His body responded, his muscles tensed, but his mind did not give into the sweet surge of sensations it received. “T-that was nothing.” he said, focusing on the pain in his lip, using it to fight against the hand-shaped pleasure print Schorl gave him.

“Did I imply it was supposed to be something?” Schorl asked, hearing the words Path tried to hide under his breath, “No, you will be feeling much more than that little love tap. As I alluded to before, I intend to show you what it is that you truly desire.”

A promise of pleasure never before came off as threatening as how the crystal mare made it sound. This was a mistake. He should have never allowed himself to be at Schorl’s mercy, or so his instincts were screaming at him.

“Enough foreplay though,” Schorl announced, using her horn to retrieve another item from the dressers, a black object that Pathfinder could just see floating his way in his peripherals. As the black spot in the corner of his eye got close, the mare took it in hand, before making one last declaration. “Let’s get to the main event.”

No sooner than the words were uttered, the world around Pathfinder turned dark. No light could reach his eyes, no movement could be seen, though the pegasus could still hear things going on around him. It didn’t take long for him to understand what had happened, with the feeling of something hugging his skull filling in any blanks that might have existed. He had been blindfolded.

Pathfinder’s sight was made useless by the simple covering of his eyes, but he was still able to roughly make out what was going on around him. With his ears, he could hear sounds of movement, along with the distinct magical chime of a levitation spell. With the soft carpet beneath their hooves, Path had no idea where she was heading, how fast, or how far, but he could still take an educated guess. Seeing as there was little else in the room, he had no doubt she was going to the dresser to find more items to use on him. Bound as he was, Path could do little more than wait for Schorl’s return, save for lift his legs back and forth as his nerves took over.

Eventually, the mare did return though, and when she did, Path was alerted to her presence in most surprising of manners. While he was trying his best to follow her hoofsteps, she managed to make her way behind him undetected, and, with latex-covered hands that felt smooth to the touch, parted the cheeks of his ass.

The pegasus jumped and tried to flap his wings, momentarily forgetting that they had been tied closed for some time, as he had a good idea what was going to happen next. As if having had a premonition, the fingers groping his ass did exactly as Path expected, sliding between his parted fat mound to find their way to the fleshy hole that was usually hidden between them.

“Your o-ring looks to be plumping up a little,” said the crystal mare as the prodding of a finger against that soft, circular piece of flesh was felt by Path.

“Don’t!” he yelled, his adversary to anal still very real. “I’ll do anything else, but not that!”

“Now, now, Mr. Finder.” Schorl said, another finger cautiously joining the first to poke at Path’s back passage, “While I appreciate the nature of your objections, the terms of our agreement implied in no vague means that I would be able to do as I please with you.”

“I know, but-” The next thing out of Pathfinders mouth was a loud gasp, unable to finish his sentence while the pair of fingers that were molesting his rear inserted themselves inside and pulled the hole agape.

“And as I explained several times, this isn’t about putting you through things that I already know you can handle. This is about showing you what your body truly desires, and the only way to do that is to explore the things you try to avoid.”

The spreading of his anus brought new life to the nerves in the stallions rump, the feeling of it traveling to every part of him, forcing muscles and sinew all over his body to tremble as if they were the ones being violated. It wasn’t even that far of a stretch, nowhere close to comparing to the time the minotaur took that hole, but the drugs and inexperience of the orifice allowed this insignificant amount of opening to feel powerful in its own ways.

It’s ok, Path thought, doing all he could to ignore the fingertips parting his most sacred of places, You can handle this. Even if she puts something in there, you’ve dealt with it all before. Grit your teeth and bear it.

It wasn’t a sound plan, but enduring it was the only thing available to him. It was difficult though, especially with his vision taken from him. The loss of a single sense made this so much worse than it had to be, as in the pitch black darkness, the only thing that existed was him, the sounds around him, and that which he felt with his flesh.

“Let’s step this up a notch, shall we?” Schorl said, giving a small warning to the pegasus that things were not going to stay as they were for much longer.

“Please, no…” Pathfinder pled, having no reason to believe that Schorl would stop now if she didn’t stop before.

This lack of faith in the crystal mare was quickly proven correct, as true to her word, the intensity of the anal play was increased immensely. The smooth, plastic texture of latex vanished, as something coated in a layer of ‘wet’ made its way inside his ass, wriggling and worming into the tunnel.

“GAH!!!” Path screamed. The invader was finding passage into his anal cavity to be very easy, and with nothing impeding its entry, the thing inside the pegasus took an opportunity to investigate its new surroundings thoroughly. It moved around with great dexterity, spreading its slimy wetness all over Path’s inner walls, rubbing against them in ways the stallion couldn’t ignore. His mind became rushed with sparks, every touch causing fireworks to explode in the darkness of his vision.

The sensations both sickened and excited Path, the gross feeling of something squirming around his insides affecting his sense of morality in a completely different way than it was affecting his body. He knew this was wrong, but it felt so good. He might have tried to deny it, but everything from his rock solid shaft that had begun to seep pre-cum, to the bliss inducing pulses dampening his thoughts of objection, everything aside from his own personal opinions about anal was telling him this was a good thing.

“Please… no…” he said weakly, still fighting against the good feelings that were on the verge of overtaking him.

The plea, frail as it was, did not fall on deaf ears. The invader slipped itself out, and once removed Path’s personal temptress spoke. “What’s the matter?” said Schorl, Path able to envision the smug look she had to be wearing through the cadence of her voice, “Are you not enjoying what is being done to you? Is the tongue not enough?”

“A… tongue?” Path said between heavy gasps for air.

So that was what she was doing: Giving the stallion’s nearly uneducated hole a taste of forbidden pleasure - a pleasure it could feel the phantom of, despite the absence of Schorl’s tongue inside him. Though the mare had practically raped him with this undesired variant of sexual contact, his ass twitched and spasmed, wondering what had happened to the pleasant messages it was receiving, sending spikes of want to its owner to demand that it continued.

“Mr. Finder,” Schorl said, seeing the sweat form on Path’s body from the lack of stimulation and denial of climax, “You can object to anal sex all you want, say that it’s not for you, declare that you’re against it because you’re straight. You and I both know that your body is loving what I am bestowing upon it. Socially instilled ideas of sexual morality or your own want to keep that hole virginal are not a factor in this. Only the cravings of your flesh matter, and what it craves is to be touched. Not by me, or some gryphoness, but by anything. If I were to push a vibrator inside you right now, you’d be cumming within minutes.”

“You… You did this… to me…” said Path, seeking some way to rationalize what he was feeling.

“No,” Schorl objected, “I might have helped develop your body to better appreciate anal, but this is something your body was always capable of on it’s own. It has nothing to do with being straight, gay, or bi-sexual. Anal, in and of itself, is just gratifying once you’ve become accustomed to it. It’s simple biology, seeing that most of the organs that grant you sexual satisfaction are so close to that hole that one could touch them.”

“You’re… trying to say I’m made to like this?” Path said with great skepticism.

“Of course you are.” Schorl insisted in return, “Do you really think that your body differs that much from a gay stallion’s? They find anal gratifying because it is gratifying. Even straight males can like a good pegging from their female partners. All it takes is a little training, and I have granted you such training.”

That seemed like a much more agreeable statement to Path, as it implied that there was nothing gay about what it was he was feeling. He was being turned on not just because he was receiving anal and it felt good, but also because the rimming had been done by a mare. Some part of him still wished that was untrue, but he could not refute what he had felt, nor could he argue with the ache that was building up in his balls, his cock, and especially his ass now that they had gone without that new source of pleasure for minutes.

“Ok,” Path relented, “You got me, I want it. Please… show me what this feels like.”

Schorl grew silent, but of course, there was no more need for words now that her captive pegasus’ objections had been withdrawn. Soon, the wet feeling returned to Path, the tongue that violated him before sliding deeply inside, much to the relief of his sexual organs. The wet organ inside him wriggled vigorously, finding spots all around the flesh tunnel that filled Path with ecstacy. The grunts and groans he made as the sloppy piece of muscle rolled around his intestines still held a bit of resistance, but a part of him wished that he had done this sooner.

In no time at all, spurts of hot, white fluids shot from the stallion’s cock onto the bed sheets in front of him, merely from the massaging touch of the tongue inside his ass alone. It was embarrassing to say, but he did enjoy what Schorl had done to him.

Having satisfied the pegasus, the tongue was once more retrieved from his anus. “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Schorl said, Path amazed that the mare could still be so literate after having done what she had with her mouth. “Did you like that as much as it looked like you did.”

“Yes…” Path said, still pretty humiliated that his body functioned like this. Still, he couldn’t help but have enjoyed the something thick, firm, and malleable moving around inside him. It was an odd, yet pleasant sensation he was now less wary about experiencing again.

“Good, I’d like you to keep that in mind from now on.” Schorl said, a sound of magic chiming unto Path’s ears, assumedly grabbing something else to use on him as she continued playing with his body, “It’s never bad to try new things. You never know what you might like if you give it a shot.”

Pathfinder felt a hand touch his mane softly, giving several light pats of reassurance. His reaction to this touching was fairly positive, as he actually enjoyed this kind of pleasant touching much more than the ‘forced sex’ stuff Schorl seemed to have a fetish for. As much as the mare proved she could make his body love what she did to it, a pony was always going to prefer their personal kink more, and had she stuck to petting and gentle caresses, odds were that Path would have been puddy in her hands by now. The pegasus smirked to himself a bit at that thought, actually glad that Schorl didn’t know the old adage of catching more flies with honey.

“We are going to tone things down a bit,” Schorl said, the mattress in front of Path making a creaking noise as something of significant weight climbed atop it, no doubt being the crystal pony herself. “Get back to the basics, with something I know you’ll like.”

Once more Path felt the touch of latex covered fingers, this time aiming for his cock instead of his ass. The digits wrapped around the slowly deflating genitals, cradling it’s length in order to bring the spent sex organ back to life. They traveled up and down the dick several times, but it seemed to want nothing more than to retreat to the safety of its sheath.

That was until a pair of lips touched its side, substituting itself as the traveler of the flesh road the hands had gone along. This gave Path’s genitals pause, as his mind pictured Schorl using that tongue of hers again, only this time on an area of his body he enjoyed being touched. Envisioning her face lapping at his cock was just enough to keep his penis in her clutches, and when the inevitable feeling of wetness connected with the sensitive sex organ, it took no time at all to get back to its full size.

What followed was a long and drawn out session of fellatio, where the same tongue that had moments ago given him his first true experience of anal pleasure took its time to explore the landscape of Pathfinder’s stallionhood. Having only his sense of touch to go by, Path swore that after a few minutes of being stroked back and forth, time and time again, there had to be a heavy coat of saliva clinging to him. If he had to be honest, he loved this.

While Schorl was going out of her way to grant him only enough pleasure to keep him erect, he enjoyed this attention to no end. It truly made him think that had the two met under different circumstances, that perhaps they wouldn’t have had to be enemies. She would have made a good lover, overly domineering personality traits and all still intact. It was a shame that her goals all seemed focused around enslaving ponies for profit, as had she just been a kinky mare into bondage and slave play, it was possible that Pathfinder could have liked her.

After minutes of this pleasing torment, the tongue finally came to a stop, leaving Path mentally exhausted from lack of climax. He could feel a large supply of cum inside his now weighty sack, created by the unspoken promise of an eventual release that Path really wasn’t sure would come. The stallion felt sore, his bloated skin pouch filled to the brim, but it was a much better feeling of soreness than the time his dick was penetrated in the aviary, or when his ass was forced around the cock of a minotaur. Had Schorl known about his condition, she’d probably lecture him on the better aspects of sexual pain, and Path would have been hard-pressed to argue.

The mare did have something to say though, and with a removal of the tongue from his cock, Pathfinder heard her voice. “I hope you’ve enjoyed yourself.” she said, very pleased with how she had thus far manipulated her slave. “But it’s time I showed you the full extent of the pleasure I wish to expose you to.”

Path found himself nodding to those words, though they hadn’t demanded a response from him of any kind. He just wanted to let Schorl know that he liked what she was doing and wanted more. His compliance was near instantly rewarded, as the next thing he felt was a pair of lips pursing up against the flared head of his stallionhood, before opening widely and allowing the whole thing to pass through them, granting full passage into the mouth that were acting as the gatekeeper to.

The amount of good feelings going through the pegasus was off the scale, and he could feel his mind slip into a state of partial unconsciousness as a feeling of hot wetness enveloped him. All he knew was the strong sucking sensation, the rolling of a tongue over his length, and the lewd sounds that filled his ears. Anya tried to give Path oral in the past, but there were things that a person with a beak couldn’t do compared to someone with a nice set of lips. He just couldn’t help but enjoy what the mouth surrounding his genitals was doing, and the pegasus found himself thrusting his hips enough to drive his cockhead just beyond the orifice and into the throat behind it. Light sounds of protest were made, but the sucking continued, so Path didn’t stop.

The combined motions from both participants built up Path’s on coming climax higher and higher, to peaks that he could barely register. He was going to cum, and from what he felt, his orgasm was going to be massive. There was no doubt, the crystal mare had granted him pleasure as she had promised. However, the means of how she truly achieved that promise were not what Path had assumed they were all this time.

Seeing that her captive was nearing an unavoidable climax, she used her magic to remove the blindfold attached to his head so he could see what gave him the immense pleasure he was now experiencing. It took a moment for the pegasus to realize that he could see again through his haze of emotions, but after a first blinks he could once more acknowledge the world around him through the use of sight. With his penis on the verge of erupting, Path assumed that Schorl wanted him to see her handiwork first hand, so he looked down towards his crotch.

What he saw though was not the shimmering purple mare, but instead a yellowish green stallion hilt deep on his shaft - the same stallion that had been dragged to the room with him by Schorl, and whom he had all but forgotten about at this point. His appearance had changed slightly though, as now he was sporting a pair of pink shoulder length latex gloves, a matching pair of thigh high socks, and an erection that competed with the one in his mouth for size.

Pathfinder recognized that there was a male having sex with him, one of his biggest fears being enacted on him right before his very eyes, but before his mind could turn to disgust or loathing, his long awaited climax hit. An avalanche of endorphins filled the shocked pegasus’ mind while a torrent of cum shot out from his cock - directly into the mouth of the other slave stallion sucking his schlong, and all he could think about when it all hit his senses was how amazingly good it felt.

A few feet away was Schorl, keeping a watchful eye for this very moment, her unicorn horn readied with a unique spell known only to herself. As her captive’s body gave into its orgasm, she released the spell into the stallions skull, locking his current thoughts as a permanent part of his psyche.

In the midst of his climax, Path felt something in him change. A weird sensation came over him, as if something about his very nature had shifted without his permission. Something was wrong, and incredibly so. He was enjoying having his dick sucked. That wasn’t the problem persay, but that he was enjoying it while a guy was the one doing the sucking. Not only that, but he was finding the act incredibly hot, enough that he ended up shooting out another blast of sperm into Sandbar’s mouth mere seconds after the first and was greatly enjoying that as well.

“I take it you like having Sandbar suck your cock like a mare,” Schorl said, adding a girlish giggle at the end.

“I… uh… what did you do to me?!” Path replied, his mind partially panicking as he watched a stallion drink down his cum in front of him. He did like it, but he knew he wasn’t supposed to. All his life, he had a strong aversion to homosexual contact, perhaps even a phobia of it, but here he was, easily enjoying a blowjob from a fellow male and finding it incredibly arousing.

“Nothing you didn’t do to yourself,” Schorl answered, placing herself aside the two stallions, “You see, Mr. Finder, I have a very unique form of magic under my command. One that allows others to… how to put it? I suppose you could say that it makes those I use it on hold onto thoughts and ideas for extended periods of time.”

“Wha-What does that mean?!” Pathfinder nearly screamed, freaking out over why the male-induced oral gratification he was receiving was still making him excited.

“Well, I’ll give you an example.” Schorl said, taking Sandbar’s mane in hand and using it to pull the stallion’s mouth off of the dick he was eagerly pleasuring.

As Path watched, he could see the earth stallions eyes widen with fear, and his dick shrivel up instantly. Sandbar was simply terrified, seemingly by the mere actions of Schorl. What had she done to make him this way? Did it have anything to do with what she was talking about?

“Sandbar here was a very defiant pony when he first arrived. Very insistent in defying as much of my orders as possible. So I decided the best way to get him to obey was to show him true fear. It took some time, but after a few weeks of effort I managed to get him to show the slightest bit of fear, and when he did, I locked that fear into his mind.”

“You… locked it there?” Path asked, calming down slightly, but still finding the the scene in front of him a bit arousing.

“Yes,” Schorl replied, “And from there, I used that tiny sliver of fear to build it into a larger and larger fear of me and what I could do to him, locking in place his thoughts as they progressed. What you saw on the club stage earlier was just the finalization of his attitude adjustment.”

Path was confused. He didn’t know what that had to do with him suddenly being okay with and even attracted to gay sex. What Schorl said honestly lost him from word one, and he wanted answers. “What does any of that have to do with me?”

“Well,” said Schorl, releasing Sandbar’s mane and allowing him to scurry off the bed and off to the other side of the room, “Just a moment ago you were made to cum buckets by a cute stallion. Not only that, but ever so briefly after learning that it was a guy that had brought you so much pleasure, you found that fact really sexy. At the very least, you connected the image with the pleasure you felt, and that was all I needed to lock that thought in your mind. Now you can’t even imagine that not being arousing.”

Path’s eyes widened as it started to sink in. He couldn’t begin to understand how such a thing could happen, but somehow Schorl took a passing thought and made it a permanent fixture in his mind. That was the power that he had caught a glimpse of earlier at the club room, and it was a scary as he had assumed it would be.

“How long?!” He asked as panic rose again.

“How long?” Schorl asked back.

“How long does it last?!” Path asked, hoping that it was only temporary, though nothing Schorl said had implied it as such.

“It lasts… as long as I wish.” Schorl answered, with all the seriousness she could muster, “This is not some sort of enchantment with a time limit, or a spell I must maintain. This was a change in your very consciousness.”

“B-but why?! Why do this to me?!” Path said, his terror coming less from how he was altered, but that he could be altered in the first place.

“All this time we have been trying to fit you into the role of a femcolt, but you adamantly refused to even pretend to comply. So I had to take matters into my own hands and force the issue.” Schorl sent a glance over to Sandbar, and snapped her fingers at him. “Get back over here, we are continuing.”

“Y-yes mistress!” Sandbar said, rushing back to the bed.

“This isn’t gonna work!” Path said desperately, “I know your trick now. I can’t be changed if I don’t think what you want me to think!”

“Poor, poor Pathfinder.” Schorl mocked, “I’m afraid it’s not that easy. Now that you have your thoughts locked, you can’t think in a way that opposes them. You might be able to keep your attraction to females, which I strongly approve of, but from this point on you will be attracted to males and think as such. For example, did you realize that Sandbar was the one who licked your pert little asshole?”

Path’s heart skipped a beat, and his dick gave a twitch at that revelation. As Schorl had explained to him, he couldn’t not find that idea hot. And as the arousal set in, he saw Schorl’s horn glow right in front of his eyes. The idea had been locked, and he now found males sticking their tongues inside his o-ring to be an attractive concept.

“Sandbar,” Schorl said devilishly, “Start fucking Mr. Finder’s ass, and don’t stop till I tell you.”

“Yes mistress,” Sandbar answered, too scared of the mare to do anything but obey. Out of sheer force of will, the earth stallion got his penis erect again, and as it slowly grew to full size, he positioned himself behind Pathfinder.

“T-this won’t work!” yelled Path as he tried to resist, “I don’t like an-” Before he could finish his declaration, Path realized what he was about to say was no longer true. He was going to express his hatred for anal sex, but that was something that was only true a few minutes ago. Schorl had already showed him the pleasures of anal, and had surely locked that thought into his mind as well.

The pegasus had underestimated the mare, but then again, she had held all the cards from the beginning. If she hadn’t talked him into this deal, she would have found other ways to make him think the way she wanted, and without her explaining her power, he would have never known that he had to keep his thoughts in check at all times in order to not fall prey to it. He, and every slave in the Society, was at the mercy of this invincible spell that could only be countered if one already knew it existed.

As the stallion behind Pathfinder fulfilled the order given to him, shoving his dick slowly into Path’s anus, the depths of Schorl’s power hit Path like an unstoppable wave. As much as he knew he shouldn’t enjoy anal, the feeling of the dick going inside him felt amazing. It was like his reality had been altered, as his fear of the act melted away in a pool of pleasure, and with it faded any resistance his mind had previously built against it.

And as Path gave into this newfound desire, he watched helplessly as Schorl once more locked his thoughts, preventing him from ever going back to the way he once was without her permission. Briefly, he wondered if he even wanted to go back, but something deep inside him told him that as much as he was loving getting his hole plugged, this wasn’t right. That thought was being buried though, until its once mighty yell became the smallest of whispers. That whisper never went away, but it only managed to give Pathfinder a sense of shame in his newfound enjoyment.

Schorl watched Sandbar as he held Pathfinder by the hips, going in and out of the pegasus’ ass, becoming very pleased with her results. Truth was that she did this sort of thing to the slaves and the members of her organization all the time, just usually not in such a direct manner. She would covertly lock an errant thought in place when it suited her needs, setting up scenarios that would lead to certain usable ideas naturally occuring in the minds of her targets, and those secret manipulations were what made the Society function.

Pathfinder had tried to attack a member though, and that required a more heavy-handed approach. Had he not done that, she would have been happy to ease his mind into the role she picked for him, but now he had to be punished. What better punishment than to know that you had zero control over your life? That your own thoughts could be used against you, and that you could be manipulated into thinking however your owner pleased with the right stimulation. Schorl had little doubt that Path would conform after this, knowing that his very mind was her plaything.

Schorl spent some time watching the two go at it, enjoying the view from the comfort of her bed as Pathfinder delved ever deeper into the pleasures of homosexuality, her knees bent to avoid the large puddle of semen that was pooling just in front of her hooves. Eventually though, Schorl heard a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Schorl called out, and to her expectations, the door unlocked and in came a deer slave with a bottle of wine held in his hands.

“You ordered some wine, Lady Tourmaline?” The male deer said, entering the room and closing the door behind him. He couldn’t help but lock his eyes on the two stallions in the middle of intercourse as he made his way to the head mistress.

“I did,” she said, “Place it on the desk and kneel next to me.”

The deer did as he was commanded, setting the bottle down and taking a place on the floor at Schorl’s side, sitting on his knees.

“Sandbar is getting tired,” she explained to the deer, “And when he cums once more, you can take his place.”

“Thank you, Lady Tourmaline,” the stag said, expressing genuine gratitude. The deer slaves seldom got time with the pony slaves outside of the spa room, so this was a rare treat for him.

“And eventually,” Schorl said with sly, wickedness on her face as she grabbed the chilled bottle of wine, “We can see if we can find some use for this, too.”