• Published 2nd Dec 2012
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Xenophilia: Further tales. - TheQuietMan

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39: Release me from my dirty cage.

A/N: The 'Swap' arc isn't finished yet so this chapter jumps forward a good few months. Once more 'Swap' chapters are completed they'll be dropped into the right places in chapter list.

Release me from my dirty cage.
Chapter published 12th Sept’13

****************

July 1217AC


With her back pressed against the wall, Lyra‘s eyes darted around the darkened, unfamiliar room, her own heartbeat thundering in her ears as she checked every shadow filled corner, every gloomy doorway leading out to dark corridors that seemed to go on forever. Very little light came through the magically darkened windows, the bright light of the afternoon sun outside reduced to little more than that of a winter’s twilight, nowhere near enough to illuminate the bare, desolate room around her.

With great care not to make any noise, she inched away from the door, slowly, painfully slowly, making her way towards the similar door on the other side of the room. A hornwrap around her horn was more than enough to counter any attempts at magic that she might make and the fabric coverings on her four limbs, while padding her hooves to the point where her punches would lose much of their hard edge, also deadened any sounds her hooves might make against the bare floor.

For the other side of the wall she could briefly hear movement, the sound ceasing as quickly as it had begun. The predator had found her, he knew where she was. He was on her, she knew it, her pursuer had stalked her throughout the building, toying with her, cornering her at every turn. He was smart, she’d give him that; she was being herded, forced to go where he wanted her to go, giving her no real control over her destination.

A confrontation was coming, she knew it, and it would be on his terms, not hers. He’d catch her soon, she didn’t have long left now, he’d come out of the dark, with those sharp teeth and predator’s eyes. He’d catch her and then he’d have her.

She had to keep moving. Her herdsisters were both at their respective jobs, both occupied for the rest of the day, they wouldn't be able to help her. It was just her and him. she had to move, he'd be on her soon if she stayed still too long.

Peering in the darkness of the next room, she could see boxes here and there, a large sofa with cover and no cushions, various other pieces of furniture stacked against the far wall waiting to be moved or assembled, but no signs of life. Making her way slowly across the room, moving around the sofa as she tiptoed for the front door, she didn't see the hand reach out from behind the sofa until it was too late.

She would have screamed, but there just wasn’t the time. In an instant an arm was around her neck, a hand over her mouth to stifle any sound she might make. A voice, low and seductive, came from close behind her, hot breath against her ear. He was so close, close enough she could feel the heat from his skin against her neck.

“Hello, Harpflank. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Turning her head as much as she dared, she could just make out his face in the dim light, a scant few rays glinting from pointed teeth and the whites of his sharp searching eyes. From deep at the back of her brain the ancient instincts of a prey species flooded her conscious mind, kicking her adrenaline levels into overdrive, telling her that there would be no ‘fight or flight’ when faced with an apex predator of this nature, instead just ‘flee or die’.

The hand moved from her mouth, trailing down the side of her neck to where the arm still held her tight, locking her in against his broad chest. The pressure, constant pressure, the crook of the elbow holding her immobile. The fingers were firm against the side of her neck, trailing back up to her mane. She could still breath, but the pressure was there, he had her, like a cat that had caught a mouse, she was his now, his toy. She had to do something.

“I’ve got you.” the voice came to her ear once more, syrupy smooth, “You can't run, you know. There’s no distance you can go that I can’t find you. I can hunt you down, no matter where you go, I’ll be there. We’re going to have a lot of fun together, you and I.”

As his hand moved, traveling upward so he could stroke her mane, she took her chance. Twisting her body she pulled her legs in towards her barrel, pushing them back away from herself to force him away from her. It worked, she broke free.

As she fell to the floor he lunged after her, long arms gave him superior reach, fingers catching on her mane, pulling her head back as she fell into a pile of boxes, their contents spilling out over the floor.

“No,” she cried, “please, no, let me go.”

The plea seemed to catch her captor off guard, his expression changing for an instant, as if he was suddenly unsure of his actions. But then it was gone, swiftly replaced by puzzlement which itself was soon supplanted by a vicious smirk.

“Never, Harpflank.” He leant down, the fingers of one hand still holding onto her mane, his voice low, almost a growl that made her heart beat all the harder in her chest, “I’m with you forever, you’ll never lose me, no matter how hard you try to throw me off.”

Throw him off? Of course, she might not have access to her magic but...

Grabbing the closest thing to hoof, which seemed to be a cushion meant for the sofa, she swung it two-hoofed, catching her assailant square in the chest. The impact wasn’t hard, but it was enough to throw him off balance. As he fell, she pushed herself away, pulling her mane from his fingers and scattering the rest of the boxes as she fled.

Her covered hooves could gain no traction and she found herself colliding with the door frame as she ran back into the corridor, bouncing off of the walls until she found herself in the kitchen, the last room at the end of the long hallway.

Looking around, she saw a door leading out onto a balcony. Grabbing the handle in both forehooves she twisted and pulled, finding it locked. the thick magically smoked glass door steadfastly refusing to budge.

Behind her she could hear a drumming noise, the predator was coming down the corridor after her, his fingers tapping out a disjointed rhythm on the bare walls as he came closer.

“Little Harpflank, come out to play” came mockingly from beyond the open door.

Backed into a corner, there was nothing in the bare room that could help her, no implements to assist her, the room was stripped clean, just as it was the day it was abandoned by its previous inhabitants.

“I know you, Harpflank, I know what you've done.”

He was in the doorway, blocking it with his greater size. She went to bolt past him, to use pure speed to break through, but the coverings on her hooves made her slide, landing in a crumpled heap at his feet.

“I’m all around you, and I’m never letting you go. You're mine now, and I don't let what’s mine go without a fight.”

Hooves skidding on the floor as she tried to rise, he leant down and wrapped himself around her, his long powerful arms enveloping her, pinning her forelegs to her barrel, her forehooves against her teats. As he leant back, lifting her bodily from the floor her hind legs kicked out uselessly in front of her.

“Please,” she cried, “Please, no more.”

“Oh no, you don’t get off easy.” he carried her across the dimly lit kitchen as if she weighed next to nothing, ”I know you, I know what a bad girl you've been, all your dirty little secrets. I know you, inside and out.”

Reaching the large island table in the middle of the sizable kitchen, he threw her forward onto it, the impact pushing air from her lungs as her trapped forelegs pushed against her ribs, her hind legs hanging over the side of table where they could just barely reach the floor.

“Say it,” he growled, “Tell me what a bad girl you’ve been.”

“No,“ she coughed.

A large hand spread across her back kept her pinned to the countertop, her forelegs still trapped beneath her body, he stepped up behind her. Using his feet he pushed her rear hooves apart while pushing her as far forward as she would go, her stifles pushed up against the table edge. Involuntarily her tail twitched and she willed it to stay still, forcing her muscles to pull it close against her marehood, tucking it between her legs.

“Tell me. You're a bad girl, aren't you, Harpflank?”

“No” she protested.

“Yes you are. You're a bad girl.”

Turning her head, she could see that her captor had pulled back his free hand, fingers splayed. she knew what was coming next. The whistle of the hand moving through the air came a split second before the ‘thwack’ of the impact. The sting came almost instantly, radiating from her rump, the pain feeling so... real, the shock of the strike flooding her system with even more adrenaline.

“What are you?” The confident growl, always so confident.

I’m a bad girl.” she whispered.

A second slap followed. the pain spreading across her rump like the first.

“I can't hear you!”

“I’m a bad girl.”

“Good, good,” the free hand stroked at her mane, “and what does this bad girl need?”

To be punished” she whispered.

He leant forward, his hips pressing against her rump, his free hand pulled at the back of his mane as he whispered in her ear

“I can’t hear you “

“I need to be punished,” she cried, “I’ve been a bad bad girl and I need it. I need to be punished.”

Another pull on the mane, stronger, more insistent, caused her head to jerk back, her eyes to the front and her neck bent back, leaving her unable to look behind her, to see her assailant.

“Please.” she panted, “Please, punish this bad girl.”

“Well, if you insist.”

Another slap, then another, then another, each with enough of a gap between them that they didn't blend into each other, the sting of one impact just beginning to fade before the next arrived, the intervals between them of random length so she couldn't brace herself. These slaps would most likely leave marks on her behind for all to see. What would they think of her, the ponies she would meet, of the bad girl with the red rump?

As the pain of the... she didn’t even know what number it was now... as the pain faded away, she waited for the next slap, but it didn't come. She waited, tensed, agonised by the delay. She was usually so good at waiting, but this, this was torture.

Shifting his balance from one leg to the other, she could feel him moving behind her, pressed up against her as he was. Switching the hands which pinned her down, his right hand now against her spine with his left hand entwined in her mane, he pulled her head back again.

“Don’t want to leave you all uneven now, do we?”

The sudden sting from her left side came quickly, the contact hard but the gaps random, just as before... He was teasing her, how could he? He knew how much it drove her crazy.

The slapping continued though the exact number escaped her, she was too intent on the feeling of being overwhelmed, powerless, controlled. To let someone else take her burden, the pressing weight of controlling her life, controlling her urges, even if it was only for a short while.

After a short while they stopped, the hand that held her down was lifted from her spine, allowing her to pull her forelegs free if she so desired.

She didn’t move them an inch.

His lips were against her ear again, his voice so low, so soft.

“Now, what do you say?”

“Thank you” she breathed, a small puddle of drool dripping from her bottom lip onto the table top.

Another tug of the mane, sharp but with no real strength.

“Thank you.” She cried “It’s what I deserve for being a bad girl.”

His balance shifted again, his hips still pressed up against her rump told her he was twisting around. She turned her head so she could see him, could see he was reaching behind himself, reaching for something in his back pocket. He was going to use it... by Celestia he was going to use it. She knew how it would feel, her body yearned for it, the pain, the realness of it all. How long would he make her wait, shivering in anticipation? Would she have to beg? She would, if that’s what it took, by the creator she would.

Suddenly a mare’s voice came from the doorway, loud, angry, maybe a touch of fear.

“WHO’S THERE?”

The ceiling lights flickered on, illuminating the room, revealing the sight of Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash. Both mares were stood in the doorway to the hallway outside the kitchen, the unicorn’s horn charged with magic while the pegasus had dropped into a low combat stance.

“What the hay?” Twilight cried, “I thought you guys said you were going to unpack? This place is a mess, there's moving boxes split open all over the floor, none of the furniture’s moved from where the movers left it and it looks like somepony had a fight in the living room!"

Motioning around her with a hoof, the purple unicorn swept a hoof over herd Bellerophon's nice new Canterlot apartment, with it’s noticeably ‘un-unpacked’ packing crates and piles of cardboard boxes everywhere. With a distinct scowl gracing her features she turned back to her stallion and their fellow herd mate, the mint green unicorn still bent over the kitchen table while Lero brushed some imaginary dust from his mare’s derriere.

By now, Twilight was in full swing.

“And why are you wearing my socks... and where did you get my hornwrap from? What the hay’s going on around here?”

“We, ah, we found your bag of ‘toys’ while we were unpacking.” Lero admitted, trying very hard not to giggle at the surrealism of the situation. It didn’t help that, from behind their remonstrating herdmate, Rainbow was pulling a series of silly faces and making rude gestures with her hooves. Though a genius she may be in all matters magical, Twi was never the fastest mare on the uptake what it came to... matters like these.

“That still doesn't explain what you... oooooooh” Twi’s face flushed as she finally realised what had been going on while her two herdmates had been home alone, allegedly unpacking and putting away the herd’s belongings.

“Ohhh,” Lyra pouted, “and we were just getting to the good part.”

“Hey, no breaking character without the safeword.” Lero gave his wife’s rear a playful slap, though careful to avoid either of the areas that were starting to already turn a distinct shade of red, even under the bold green of her fur.

Sticking out her tongue and blowing her husband a raspberry in return, Lyra grinned at him. “‘Pomegranate’... Happy now?”

“Very. Thanks.” Lero reached over and started to tidy up the unicorn’s mussed up mane, smoothing any loose wayward strands down with his fingers. “You know it helps me keep the start and end of our little role-playing games nicely defined.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise what you were...” Twi stuttered, glancing back and forth between the two as Rainbow fell into fits of laughter on the floor behind her, “Ah, we should let you get back to it... Unless, err, unless you want some help that is.”

Leaning over, Lero kissed Lyra gently, letting the short riding crop he had previously had stashed in the back pocket of his jeans fall onto the countertop. It looked like they weren't going to be able to use it today after all.

“You even found that?!” Twilight gasped, “Oh my.”

“What happened to picking us all up food on the way back from work?” Lyra asked once Lero had broken off the kiss, though not before she’d pulled him back towards her for a quick reprise. “We thought you two weren't going to home for ages yet.”

“Yeah, well,” Rainbow called from her spot on the hallway floor. “I got out early so I went and talked Little Miss Studious here into us all going out to eat instead.” Catching Lyra’s eyes she wiggled her eyebrows, a sure sign that she was about say something smutty, “But it looks like maybe I shouldn't have... seems you two’ got plans to eat out of your own.”

As Lyra and lero groaned at the incredibly lame pun, Twi still just flushing redder than her herdsister’s backside, the pegasus flipped herself back onto her hooves.

“So...” she smirked, “How many rooms you managed so far?”

“None...” Lyra lamented, though she quickly added “Yet.”

“Well I claim the bathroom!” Rainbow cried, starting off down the hallway in that direction, “I love doing it in the bath. Grrr, wet skin. Yum.”

********************

Lero flumped down onto the sofa, next to Lyra who was busy removing Twilight’s favourite ‘bedtime’ socks. All around them were still unopened boxes and crates which the two of them were under strict orders to at least put into reasonable order before Twi and Rainbow returned with their evening meal. The general consensus was that Lyra would need to wear a dress of some kind if she wanted to show her rear in public for the next day or so and, as none of them had any idea where that particular set of boxes currently were, they’d decided on take-out for tonight.

“So, was I creepy enough?” Lero asked, still rubbing his left hand to try and get rid of the last of the tingling sensation.

“Ha, yeah,” Lyra laughed, “You’ve about got it. Still not as bad as some of the creeps I used to date though but I know how much you hate it, so thanks for doing it.”

“I worry you know, about hurting you.” Boy, was that hand ever interesting.

“You could be a little rougher actually.” She leaned over and nudged him with her shoulder, “I'm not going to break.”

“Ha, yeah, I know. I’m more worried about me in that regard. Last time we did something like this you bucked one of the legs right off the bed.” Lero moved onto his other hand, “No, I mean... well, with the words.”

“Oh you!” The unicorn leaned over again, this time throwing her hooves around her stallion, “You’re so good to me. I love you, you know that?”

They sat like that together for a while. it was... nice... comforting... safe.

“You remember I said that long time ago I used to... date ponies who I thought loved me,” Lyra said quietly “I thought they were being truthful with me, I thought they wouldn’t hurt me. But I was wrong. But you... you and the girls... I don't think you love me, I know it.”

Pushing herself closer against him, she could feel his breath on her ear, the warmth of his skin on her neck.

“Do you think I’m strange?” she asked.

“Of course,“ Lero said, reaching over to stroke her mane, “Delightfully so. And that’s why I love you.

And she knew he meant it. And that he’d always be there with her, that if something ever took her away from him he’d hunt them down to the other side of the world and bring her back and, no matter who she used to be, he loved her with all his heart.

Of all this she was sure.

And she was right.

Author's Note:

So, the working title for this chapter was originally ‘Fifty shades of green’.

Yes, it’s a deliberately awful rip off... I know - bad me, bad bad me. :rainbowwild:

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