> Fishing at the Communal Cum Baths > by Manifest Harmony > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Chapter 1 - Three Pet Bowls > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “That’s five trucks of flowers. One to be dropped off at Canterlot, one at Hollow Shades, one at Fillydelphia and two at Manehattan.” All Aboard nodded at the long train of container trucks stuffed full of flowers by the cratefuls. The eastbound overnight ‘Flower Express’ gleaming in the setting sun was truly a sight to behold. “That’s a lot of flowers, ma’am,” the train driver, Hot Stoke, whistled. The setting sun allowed the young mare to pull her sun hat off, revealing a silky rose’n’peach mane. Her white sun dress glowed gold in the last lights of sunset. “Never enough flowers for all the ponies in love or in need of a snack,” she said, her bright evergreen eyes gleaming playfully. “I remember when your mom and dad sold flowers out of their own homemade cart, Roseluck.” All Aboard nodded at the train that took up the entirety of Ponyville station’s platform. “Now you sell’em by the trainloads to all of Equestria.” “Our greenhouses do a lot of the hard work. But the three of us Blossom sisters still serve Ponyville out of that cart dad build.” Roseluck said humbly. “I need to stop by more often now that it’s rose season again,” Hot Stoke said as he clambered into the driver’s cab. “Or maybe I should just sneak some out of the back.” He gave Roseluck an evil grin. “If you can find the right crates, sure. Some of them contain modified tentacle plunderseeds though.” Roseluck shrugged her withers. “I’m hauling what?!” Hot Stoke balked as the train pulled away from the platform in a burst of steam. “W-wait! I didn’t sign up to haul tentacle plunderseeds! No! Wait! NOOOO!” He wailed as the train picked up speed. “If I knew that’d be the last I ever saw him, I’d ask him to cough up the bits he owed me.” All Aboard said, offhoofedly. “Well, I’d better look into hiring a new train driver for your westward shipment next week. You take care walking home, Rose,” the station master waved her off. “Thanks, All Aboard. Good night.” Roseluck waved back before settling into a brisk trot. She was joking about the tentacle plunderseeds, obviously. Magically modified tentacle plunderseeds are attracted by loud noises so transporting them by train would be a bad idea. Or a good idea depending on which pony you ask. She knew some ponies who would pay good money to ride a train like that. She probably knew far too many such ponies for her own good. Two of whom are her own sisters, come to think of it. But it was no secret that they both got off on fears and horrors. Good thing Roseluck was nothing like her sisters. Roseluck was a mare of simpler pleasures. Walking through the sunset-painted town, watching everypony wind down for the day, distance-browsing the bookstand to see… ’Naming Your Foal For New Parents by Nurse Kinder Heart’ Roseluck strayed off-course, making a beeline for the bookstand as if drawn magnetically by the book. She felt a little thrill rumble in her heart as she began reading through the chapter on ‘naming dreams’, that wonderful dream where she and her special somepony would feel the first tingles of their foal’s magic manifest itself as a vivid dream. ‘Oh, what if it happens tomorrow? she wondered excitedly with a soft little squee. “Hmm, Pokey senses tingling. I hear a Rosey squee.” A silken voice whispered in her ear. “M-Master?!” Roseluck squeaked, almost leaping out of her fur at the royal blue unicorn who had somehow snuck up next to her. He had somehow managed to use his white coat as camouflage against the bookstore’s walls. “Only in private, Rosey,” Pokey Pierce hushed her with a smile, causing her to blush softly. Her stallion easily dwarfed her petite frame, allowing him to peer over her withers with ease. “So, what has got my filly squeeing?” He asked, peering down at the book. “N-nothing, honey.” Roseluck was blushing so hard she was beginning to turn the colour of her mane. He gave a playful little chuckle, one that never failed to send delightful shivers up Roseluck’s spine. “Show me, Rosey,” he ordered short and firm. Rose felt a flutter of excitement as she allowed her well-trained obedience to take over, opening the book to present it to her stallion. She could almost hear her heart pound away as she held it up for him to read over her withers. She felt his muzzle brush against her mane as his eyes scanned each sentence slowly, almost deliberately. She felt her anticipation mount as he seemed to judge her by each and every word he read. “Oh, this is an excellent idea.” He finally gave a nod of approval. “I’d love to have a chance to sit down and read this with you. What do you think?” She felt herself thrown off balance at how easily he could swing from making her tremble with his commands to making her swoon with his loving gestures. “Y-yes, I’d like that,” she barely managed to squeak through her blush. “Wait a moment, Rosey.” He floated the book along with him into the store. He quickly emerged with the book wrapped in a little rose-coloured ribbon. “There we go. I also got a book for myself.” He grinned widely, showing her another book titled ‘DIY Nursery Furniture’. Roseluck couldn’t help but burst into happy, tickled laughter. “Now you’re just winding me up!” She headbutted her stallion’s chest softly. She paused a moment, resting her head against his chest. Her stallion seemed to notice her lapse into thoughtfulness, electing to simply curl a forehoof around her mane gently. “Do you...do you think the four of us are really ready?” She finally asked softly, her big emerald eyes slowly peering up at him. “All I do is help mothers carry and deliver their foals and look after the newborns until discharge. Obstetric paediatricians don’t really get involved past that point, so all this is going to be uncharted territory to me.” Pokey Pierce waved the DIY book in his magical grasp. “But you three are going to be the best moms ever. So with me learning on the job, Daisy and Lily bossing me about and you captaining this ship, I think I like our chances.” He gave his beloved mare a tight hug against his chest. “Speaking of which, Captain, I’m in a hurry to get these groceries into the icebox." He indicated his laden saddlebags. "So y'know what? I’ll race you.” Roseluck gasped as she felt his familiar magical grasp envelope her entire body, lifting her up into the air. She could only squeak helplessly, holding down the skirt of her sun dress as he deposited her on his back. “H-hey! How am I supposed to race you when I’m stuck up here?!” She cried as they took off, holding her sun hat tight with one hoof while grasping her stallion around the neck with the other. “By losing to me, that’s how,” Pokey Pierce cackled evilly. “Nooooo! But I don’t wanna loooose!” Roseluck wailed helplessly as she was whisked away by her stallion. She did end up losing the race in the end but she quickly found that she didn’t mind it very much, especially when her stallion lovingly carried her across the threshold of their thatch cottage like a newlywed mare. Plus she loved the sight of the endearing blushes and fond smiles on her sisters as they came to greet them in the foyer. “Welcome home, Master,” the two beautiful mares cooed, their chastity-belts sashaying exaggeratedly as they sauntered up to meet them. The eldest sister, Daisy, was the first to bend down and curl her front hooves around her Master’s, embracing them as she kissed and licked his hoof lovingly in welcome. Lily waited patiently for Daisy to begin her greetings before joining in, taking hold of her Master’s other front hoof. “Thank you, my little pets,” Pokey Pierce smiled with pride, reaching down to kiss them both softly on their foreheads. “Stand up.” He urged them onto their hooves. “I’m sorry I’m late. I had arranged to come home early but the last patient turned out to have twins.” “Oh, don’t worry, Master,” Daisy said with an understanding smile, “We kind of suspected Mrs. Cake had more than one bun in the oven.” “Shush, patient confidentiality, my pet.” Pokey Pierce chuckled, ruffling Daisy’s mane playfully. “Unlike fancy uppity Canterlot where you came from, Master, it’s kind of difficult to keep buns a secret here in Ponyville,” Lily giggled demurely into a forehoof. “So you’d better get used to all this attention, dear Rose,” she reached up on her tippy-hooves to give Roseluck a welcome-home peck on the lips. “You know Rose can’t wait to flaunt how she’s carrying Master’s foals,” Daisy teased, joining her sister in giving Roseluck a loving kiss. “Why do I have a feeling you two are going to do all the flaunting for me?” Roseluck muttered darkly. “No pressure, Rosey,” her Master chuckled as he magically lifted her off his back. Her sisters were quick to help Roseluck strip off her sun dress, revealing her beautiful cream fur clad in nothing but her own chastity belt. The belt proudly bore her Master’s cutie-mark, making it clear to the world who she belonged to. While the rest of Equestria had moved on from the nudity taboo of the pre and post-unification era, their kink club, Clocktower Society, had kept up old traditions with a twist – Doms wore clothes unless they chose otherwise while slaves were generally kept bare. The Blossom herd had chosen to keep it up, the sisters wearing nothing but their chastity belts at home while dressing up to hide their belts outside the house. “I’m going to make dinner and tidy up the house before our week away,” Pokey Pierce announced as he donned his ‘Love the Cook’ apron, “I’m afraid we won’t have time for me to wash you three tonight as usual so I will have you wash each other. Be ready for dinner in an hour. Daisy, I’m leaving you in charge of your little sisters,” he ordered. “Yes, Master,” the three mares bowed their heads obediently. There are many kinds of dominants. As Daisy quickly found when she started dating him, their Master was the very paternal and controlling kind who thoroughly enjoyed obsessively looking after every aspect of his slaves’ lives down. That knowledge didn’t put Lily off joining the herd and it certainly only encouraged Roseluck. There is something sweet and heartwarming about being looked after by a loving Master. But Pokey was as demanding as he was spoiling. He liked to know he was dominating strong, smart, independent mares and encouraged the three of them to be ambitious in pursuing their careers and lives outside the house. It was his encouragement (and Canterlot contacts) that spurred the sisters to start expanding, producing and exporting flowers Equestria-wide. In fact, the herd had remained traditionally matriarchal on paper with the household named after the Blossom sisters and led by Daisy as its head. It could be stressful sometimes, trying to live up to Master’s eager expectations. But Master’s selfless love, care and attention at the end of a long busy day made it all worth it. If any of the traditionalist neighbourhood watchdogs ever caught the Blossom sisters kissing and licking the hooves of their beloved Master….oh the horror! The horror! The very thought alone sent shivers of excitement through Roseluck. “Now, kitchen, it’s just you and me,” Pokey cracked his neck, limbering up as he strolled into what had long become the most macho place in the Blossom herd’s household, “This salad’s not going to know what hit it! Take that! And that!” The three sisters winced at the sparks of magic lighting up the walls as the high-pitched whine of a power drill filled the air. “I think Master gave us an order,” Roseluck murmured, nudging a mesmerized Daisy. Daisy blinked the blank look out of her eyes. “Yes, yes, I know. Lily, no clopping.” She nudged a heavily-breathing Lily. “That’s five self-administered lashes on your pussy, ten if you cum, remember?” “But...but...M-Master’s so steamy when he’s in dom mode, it’d be so worth it!” Lily whined as Daisy dragged her along towards the stairs. Roseluck stole one last glance at her Master. “That’s all of Lily’s calorie needs for the day. Now Roseluck’s five-a-day….” She heard him mutter to himself, her heart fluttering at the mention of her name. She quickly cantered after her sisters before her blush could give her away. “Teehee,” Lily giggled softly into a forehoof as the sisters climbed upstairs. “What’s so funny, Lily?” Daisy asked the middle sister with a curious smile, one eyebrow cocked. “When Master declared he would be the one to look after the chores and the two of us, you made a bet that he wouldn’t last a week. It’s been five years now he’s been doing the cooking and cleaning, o’ ye unfaithful,” Lily giggled, “And he carried on even after Rose joined the herd.” “W-well, I won’t deny that Master continues to surprise me.” Daisy cleared her throat uneasily as she opened the bathroom door for them. “He’s certainly gotten better at cooking.” Lily only giggled at that. “Come on, Rose, you first. It’s your special week, so we need to get you extra squeaky clean.” She gestured for Rose to hop into the bathtub as she grabbed a scrub brush and a bottle of fur shampoo. “Inside and out,” Daisy intoned, waggling her eyebrows suggestively as she pulled out their enema kit box from under the sink cabinet. Rose paused halfway through climbing into the bathtub. “Uh, aren’t I going to be bred all week? I’m pretty sure an obstetric paediatrician’s not going to mistake my tailhole for my foalhole.” She frowned down at the box. Daisy grinned playfully as she unlocked Roseluck’s chastity belt using the key hanging on a ribbon by its side“Oh, yes, you are going to be bred thoroughly, make no mistake about that," she said, knowingly, “But I’m sure Master would still want to use his special anal slave for funsies during breaks.” Rose blushed brightly at the thought as she stepped out of her chastity belt. “Um, this is a silly question to ask at this point, but are you two sure about letting me go first?” “Well, yes, we need to get you clean, dear,” Daisy chuckled as she filled the enema bottle with water from a tap. “Uh, I mean, about the whole having Master’s foal thing.” Rose fidgeted uneasily in the bathtub. “Are you two sure you’re alright with all….um...this?” She waved her forehoof at the air vaguely. “I mean, I am the youngest, and I was the last to join the herd, and…” Lily giggled understandingly as she curled her forehooves around their youngest sister, silencing her anxious babbling. “Rose, as long as you’re ready, nothing would make Daisy and I more happy and proud than to see our baby sister bear our herd’s first foal.” “You being the youngest and the last to join the herd mean nothing. You’re special to Master, you’re special to us,” Daisy said, hugging her sister fiercely. “Now let’s get you cleaned up. You have a whole week of breeding ahead of you.” She and Lily loomed over Rose, weapons of mass cleanliness in their hooves. Rose could only squeak in terror as her sisters bore down on her like demons of hygienic vengeance. The sisters were squeaky clean and downstairs before the hour was up. They had ignored the dining room on their way. That was only for show or entertaining house guests. The Blossom sisters had their own special feeding area in their Master’s den. They sat on their haunches on their personal pony pillows around Master’s low, wide armchair by the fireplace. It was their special sanctuary where they would spend many an evening simply revelling in their togetherness, resting their heads upon Master’s lap. On one side were three pet bowls set beneath water dispensers labelled with their names, each containing the minimum amount of water they had to finish by the end of the day each day. Their minimum water requirements were meticulously calculated daily based on the weather forecast and humidity. Finishing and drinking a little extra will earn them one of their favourite rewards - Master personally feeding them one of his tasty homemade pet biscuits. Not drinking their minimum allotment, on the other hoof, would earn them punishment. Daisy would be made to drink the remainder in her hated grapefruit juice, Roseluck with celery juice. Once upon a time all three were punished by drinking the remainder in Master’s pee straight from the tap. Roseluck is not sure why Daisy isn’t punished this way anymore. She herself lost the privilege when she began to enjoy the punishment so much she began to deliberately not finish her water allotment each day. It didn’t take long for her Master to pick up on her mischief. She was punished with no physical contact from her Master for two months. By the end of the third week she was already weeping for him, by the the fifth week she was begging and promising the world. At the end of her punishment she vowed to her Master she would never deliberately neglect any aspect of her personal care for any reason. She was rewarded with a nice, long drink from his tap. Since then she’d receive the privilege as an occasional reward rather than punishment. She suspected Daisy had done the same at some point, or perhaps she had more sensibly declared to her Master that she was enjoying the punishment too much for it to be effective. Nowadays only Lily received Master’s pee as punishment, though Rose privately suspected the middle sister was simply better at disguising her secret enjoyment of her punishment. Over Master’s desk was a bulletin board bearing graphs of his pet’s body weights, nutrition intake and exercise regiments and schedules. To one side were three individualized bookcases bearing books that Master required them to study. None of the sisters had attended higher education so Master had taken it upon himself to sit them down three evenings a week and personally lecture them on everything from language and philosophy to practical economics and botany. Roseluck was at one point surprised to find that she had enough knowledge of philosophy and science to impress Princess Twilight Sparkle herself, so much so that the princess had insisted she have the sisters over for tea at the palace once a month to chat. That had certainly made Master’s day. He was so proud he rewarded Roseluck with the longest, most mind-blowing multi-orgasm to ever rock a mare. She had taken her studies under his keen tutelage much more seriously since. A few fellow submissives at their kink club's weekly submissive coffee mornings had expressed horror and concern at what they called ‘freaky and abusive’ levels of control. The Blossom herd were quick to defend their beloved Master. Sure, he was obsessive about their care, almost to a fault, but it was how he showed his love and they loved him for it. If anything, the Blossom herd found it difficult to understand why other dominants at the kink club would ‘share’ their subs with fellow dominants. Pokey Pierce would proudly show off his slaves but would never let anypony else touch them. Roseluck could really only draw one conclusion - There are all kinds of doms and subs and even more kinds of relationship dynamics. In fact, she knew a few subs and doms who admitted to having had to switch partners until they found the right pony for them. The beauty of Clocktower Society was how easily it allowed for such ponies to eventually find their perfect special someponies. Roseluck simply counted herself fortunate that she was first-time-lucky. Though Roseluck had at one point asked Pokey if he would treat their foal the same way. ‘Off course not. Our foal’s our foal, not my three little slave pets. I get off on looking after you. I’m not about to get off on looking after our foal,’ he had said, simply. Speaking of foals, Roseluck couldn’t help but notice the pile of brand new obstetrics books and latest obstetric journals piled on her Master’s desk. She couldn’t help but feel a little flutter at the thought of her Master, Ponyville’s most accomplished obstetric paediatrician, actually brushing up on his knowledge just for her. Her ears rose to attention at the sound of a ringing bell. Her mouth began to salivate at the prospect of food like the well-conditioned pet she was. She wasn’t alone in drooling at the sight of their Master arriving with three pets bowls brimming with food. Pokey Pierce smiled at his eager pets as he set down the first bowl in front of Daisy, a medley of roast vegetables seasoned with roses and thyme, her absolute favourite. Master was quite obviously rewarding her for something. He petted her mane lovingly as he guided her down to her bowl. She obediently dug in, making appreciative happy-pet sounds that drew a wide smile from her Master. Roseluck craned her neck to try and peer at her own bowl’s contents. “Down, girl,” her Master chided with a smile, causing her to blush a little as she planted her rump back down obediently. “Here you go. I want you to finish everything.” He set down a bowl filled with what looked like a fruit salad filled with avocado, watermelon and apple slices dressed with a very rich cream sauce. The only way to make it more fattening was to dump a bucket of sugar on top. It was very different from his usual lean, healthy and calorie-counting approach to cooking. “Yes, I’m fattening you up,” he whispered in her ear, causing her breath to catch with excitement. “I’ll be making you eat plenty while you carry my foal.” She shivered as he ran a forehoof tantalizingly across her belly. “Now be a good pet and lick your bowl clean.” He ordered firmly, wrapping his hooves around her neck possessively as he pushed her down towards her bowl. She gave a happy moan as she dug in, eager to fatten herself up for her Master. “Good pet.” He growled approvingly at her obedient gusto. Roseluck was so busy demolishing her meal that she almost missed the whimper from Lily as her Master set down her bowl. She did her best to not slow down as she peered over the edge of her bowl at her sister. Lily looked downcast as she peered at her beautifully presented tomato, spinach, cucumber and bean salad laced with yoghurt dressing, a whole salad made of the five things she loathed the most. She was obviously being punished for something. “I-I’m sorry, Master, I’m sorry I didn’t finish the lunchbox you made. I was just so busy, I…” “You were so busy you left out the tomatoes and cucumbers? When I told you you need more iron in your diet this month?” Master demanded impatiently. Lily could only whimper in reply. “I-I’m sorry, Master. I just….” She mumbled, lips trembling, ears drooping, looking the very picture of dejection. Her words trailed off into a soft gasp as a napkin magically floated up to her eyes, blindfolding her before securing itself behind her mane. “M-Master…” She moaned with a shiver. Pokey wordlessly straddled her back, curling one forehoof around her neck possessively, drawing another needy moan from her. “Open your mouth, pet.” He ordered, giving her neck a brief but firm squeeze. “A-ahhn…” She moaned as she obediently opened her mouth wide for him. He wasted no time in levitating a spoonful of her salad and feeding it to her. She gave a pitiful whine as it landed on her tongue. “Now, chew and swallow,” He growled. Her breathing picked up perceptibly as he began to run his forehoof up and down her neck encouragingly, dictating the tempo of her chewing before finally guiding her swallowing. She opened her mouth obediently as she finished, drawing a grunt of approval from her stallion. “Good filly, keep going.” He encouraged as he fed her even more. Lily's moans and whimpers grew louder and louder with each successive bite until her bowl was perfectly empty. “There you go, last bite.” He said, levitating the bowl out of the way just in time to avoid her faceplanting it as she flopped limply onto the floor. "Well done, Lily," he ruffled her mane as he carefully untied her blindfold. He proceeded to carefully inspect Daisy and Roseluck's bowls. “Well done, girls.” They mewled appreciatively as he petted them lovingly in praise. He levitated their bowls away, replacing them with bowls of water. “The clocktower bell will be sounding in fifteen minutes. Be ready to leave for the Society by then,” he said as he turned to leave. He seemed to miss Lily's satisfied little smile, her eyes glinting with obvious mischief. The smile didn’t go unnoticed by her scowling sisters, however. ‘There really are all sorts of subs,’ Roseluck thought, ‘And my sister’s the worrying sort.’ > Chapter 2 - Heart to Heart > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The sun had disappeared behind the Everfree by the time they reached the clocktower nestled in the ridges of the Ghastly Gorge. Their kink club couldn’t have chosen a more imposing place for the entrance to their secret lair of debauchery. The old clocktower never failed to make Roseluck feel weak at the knees as its mighty brazier-lit spire loomed above them. Its massive clockface glowed a pale crimson against the twilight sky as it gazed impassionately down upon them. The spacious stone plaza leading up to the clocktower’s grand staircase was already packed with ponies streaming out of the many teleporter gates from all across Equestria. For some reason the crowd only seemed to grow and grow with no signs of movement at the front. “What’s the hold up?!” Lily whined, hopping up and down to peer over the heads of the increasingly impatient crowd. “I wanna get inside already!” “So do I. Though not in that way.” Pokey whispered in her ear. He guffawed heartily at her loud eep and explosive blush. “Get up, Rosey. Tell us what’s going on,” he said, lowering himself to allow the smallest of the sisters to climb onto his back. Roseluck clambered on, holding tight as Pokey’s tall form raised her above the crowd. Roseluck squinted through the early evening gloom, gazing up the grand stairs leading up to the massive gatehouse into Clocktower palace. The light from the mighty braziers allowed her to make out the bottleneck at the gate’s security checkpoint. More guards were arriving to open up extra security booths. “Looks like there’s a queue at the gates,” Roseluck reported, “Though they’re opening up all the extra security gates so we might not have long to wait.” “I heard there was a breach in security recently. A visitor managed to get into the play areas unattended. They’ve tightened security since,” Daisy remarked, “That’s why they’re building that new visitor’s center inside.” “The queue is moving!” Roseluck announced excitedly as half the crowd moved towards the newly opened gates. “Giddy up, Master!” “Okay.” Pokey replied, strolling onwards in what was perhaps the most sedate giddy-up ever. Roseluck gave an enthusiastic ‘yippee ki yay’ anyway. Roseluck couldn’t help but always feel a touch of trepidation on entering her Master’s (and their) personal suite in the Society’s private accommodations upstairs. Her fellow earth ponies often put it down to how much ancient unicorn magic is warping the space in the Society, making the upper palace far bigger on the inside than it had any right to be. But Roseluck knew there was more to it than that, especially when her anticipation only heightened as she stood in the slave’s antechamber before the doors to her own personal training room. She had spent about fifteen minutes in her safe, cozy little slave antechamber, inspecting her dock ring and safety bell in the vanity mirror, making sure her hoof and thigh straps were locked secure. She was just brushing her fur for the twentieth time when Daisy and Lily peered through the antechamber’s entrance. “E-eeep!” Roseluck cried, dropping the brush from her mouth. “Why are you still in here?!” Lily hissed, “Master’s waiting for you inside!” She gestured at the door opposite leading into Roseluck’s training room. “I, well, um...had a flat tyre?” Roseluck suggested with a sheepish little smile. “Uh, are you two sure you’re not coming in there with me?” “Uh, no.” Daisy raised an eyebrow like a readied whip. “I’ll do the composting and fertilizer for a month?” Roseluck pleaded. “No.” Daisy said, simply. “Two months?” Roseluck begged. “Hmm, make it three and you have a de-...” Lily was cut short by Daisy’s hoof plugging up her mouth. “The two of us have lots of preparation work to do for your big day tomorrow so it’s all on you to entertain Master tonight.” Daisy said, firmly. “We’re most certainly not going to be in the observation room, watching and clopping to Master rutting you into the floor and…” Lily began before she was cut short again, this time by Daisy strapping her ballgag on. “Mpph!” Lily protested plaintively. Daisy cleared her throat loudly. “Yes, we have lots of work to get to. So please don’t leave Master waiting.” She smiled a little as she opened the door fully and strolled in. “Come on, Rose. You know Master’s going to want to spend some special alone time just with you before your breeding tomorrow.” She nuzzled her sister comfortingly. Roseluck felt her tensions melt away into her beloved sister’s gentle caress. “If only to be able to ruin you as roughly as he pleases one last time tonight,” she added with a mischievous grin, “Now go get’em, manticoress!” Daisy patted her on the withers encouragingly. Roseluck could only meep helplessly at that. “Okay, that was less ‘manticoress’, more ‘mouse’, but I’ll take what I can get.” Daisy conceded. “Mpph!” Lily gave her own muffled sounds of encouragement. Together Daisy and Lily pushed Roseluck through the door, depositing their sister in her training room on the other side. “Wait! I left my express train to Yakyakistan inside!” Roseluck wailed, scrabbling for the door. Unfortunately it closed with a resounding click, its bolt sliding home from the other side. “Noooooo!” “Trust me, you won’t be needing that, Rosey,” a deep voice intoned, dispelling her every trepidation, replacing everything with one and only one compulsion – obey. She meekly looked around. She found her Master where he sat waiting on a pile of cushions in the middle of the room. It was a room of her own design, straight out of her darkest fantasies, styled as a medieval Equestrian breeding chamber from the pre-unification days where breeding slaves like her would be broken and kept. The Society’s room designers had helpfully tailored everything to her fantasy, setting up a cage along one wall, suspension hoops and chains in the walls and ceilings, stocks, paddling bench, whipping post, display cabinets to organize all her special toys, everything a (kinky) girl could ever want. One wall was left bare, set up to be collapsible to unite her training room with Master’s bedroom. Her sisters’ personal training rooms were similarly designed, making up the other two sides of the central bedroom, allowing them to be coralled and caged under Master’s bed after play. “Sorry, Master, just...thinking out loud,” Roseluck murmured awkwardly as she bowed to her Master in greeting. “Um, your slave is here for you, Master.” Her Master seemed to give her a long, appraising look. “You can go to sleep if you’re feeling tired,” he finally said, “I’ll only ask that you let me cuddle you to sleep. I, well, I simply want to be together with you tonight.” Roseluck hadn’t heard her Master hesitate in a long, long time. She knew he always worked hard to maintain the inspiringly confident dom persona his subs expected of him. For her perfectionist Master to flounder, even briefly…. “N-no, Master!” Roseluck quickly rushed to her Master’s side. “This slave wishes to be with you too,” she said earnestly as she lowered herself flat against the wood-tiled floor in her usual gesture of submission. “Please, allow this pet to serve you tonight, Master,” she pleaded, peering up at him meekly in that special way she knew he loved. Normally her meek upward-peek would earn her an excited throb from his stallionhood, maybe even a lustful growl or the occasional impatient pounce. But to her surprise he reached down and gently pulled her into a deep, tender kiss. She allowed her astonishment to simply melt away into the kiss as she moaned blissfully into his mouth, her tongue cheekily seeking out his, only for his tongue to grasp her own and draw her deep into his mouth. She mewled helplessly as he suckled and caressed her tongue deeply in a show of affection he normally reserved for those tender moments after a long hard session. She felt herself grow limp in his embrace, quickly realizing he didn’t need shackles and whips to dominate her. Even a single kiss was enough to overwhelm her heart and make it his. It was a while before Pokey finally let her go. To Roseluck, it felt like an eternity of loving bliss. She was abruptly snapped out of her euphoria at the sight of her Master’s eyes brimming with tears. “P-Pokey, are you alright?” She gasped, suddenly breaking character. To her bewilderement, her stallion only chuckled softly, “Sorry, Rosey, sorry. I’m just, well, overwhelmed, by, y’know, us and the foal thing and everything,” he sighed, gazing deeply into her eyes with a look that spoke of profound joy, his usual dom mask all but dropped. She hadn’t seen him break roleplay in a long time, not since they tied the knot when he gave her her eternity collar. “I’m sorry I popped the bubble. I’m ready to continue. I…” Pokey Pierce was silenced by his wife pulling his head gently against her chest. “Clockface,” Roseluck invoked the safeword for him as she cradled her stallion in her hooves. Her normally powerful and stoic Master felt so soft, so warm, so fragile against her as he returned her hug with an almost desperate hold. “I know, Pokey. I feel the same,” she whispered softly in his ear. “I know we’ve been talking about this lots, you, Daisy, Lily and me. But it really only hit me when you bought me that book earlier,” she admitted with happy little sniffle. “Just how much I want this, to do this with you, and Lily and Daisy; Just how incredibly happy it makes me; How happy you make me.” “Me too, Rosey,” he chuckled wetly, burying his face in her chest. “My special talent is helping others with their foals. It just...it just didn’t strike me that it’s really actually our turn to have our own until today….until I saw you reading that book, how beautiful you looked with that warm glow on your face. Just knowing that...that maybe, possibly, such a wonderful mare might want this as much as I do, share this incredible thing with me...it’s just…” he faltered, biting his lips as words failed him. But he didn’t need them. Their eyes met. In that singular moment they knew they shared that exact same feeling, that knowledge that they were about to take the step and give their love for one another a life, a soul, a beating heart of its own. They leaned forwards. Their lips met halfway, joining together in another deep kiss that said everything else that needed to be said. “I love you so much,” Roseluck whispered between pants, breaking the kiss for a breath for but a moment before diving back in. “And I love you,” Pokey replied as they surfaced for air once more, “You three are the most incredible things to ever happen to me,” he sighed, gazing up at her, admiring everything that was beautiful and amazing about his wife. “Heheh, thank you for putting up with me there,” he chuckled, sheepishly. “And you, me,” Roseluck smiled, nuzzling the tears off his face with her own. “But our breeding like rabbits isn’t ‘till tomorrow,” her stallion said, suddenly straightening up, “Tonight it’s all about you. Tell me, what do you want?” He asked, caressing her cheeks. She blushed softly as she gazed up at him meekly. She knew exactly what she wanted. “Everypony, including you, are going to treat me like glass and probably just tickle me for sex for eleven months straight from tomorrow onwards.” She grinned knowingly at his sheepish smile. “So tonight…” She licked her lips. “I want you to have your way with me as rough and hard as you can.” She gave him the most smouldering look he had ever seen her put on. “Don’t worry, Rosey,” he smiled sinisterly, putting his dom mask back on, “I planned on exactly that. Ready?” “Clockface,” Roseluck declared her safeword with an eager smile. “Clockface,” he counter-signed, his eyes narrowing evilly. “The whole world will know you’re my little breeding cunt when your belly’s all stuffed and full with my foal,” he hissed, his forehooves firmly tracing a line along her trembling inner thighs up towards her smooth, round pony-belly. She moaned as he slapped her cutie-marks for emphasis, her hips a perfect fit for his tight grip. He had sculpted those flanks, that butt, even her cute belly and pussy mound, by giving her the right amount of exercise to build the perfect amount of firm muscle for padding, feeding her the exact amount of sugar and fat to give it that jiggly marshmallowy softness that made her such a joy to squeeze and spank. “But until then, I need to declare to the world that you’re mine. Prepare for your collaring, slave,” he ordered. “Yes, Master,” Roseluck said eagerly, reaching out to the silk pillow bearing her adamantite eternity collar where it rested upon an ornate pedestal by her Master’s side. She offered the pillow bearing her collar up to her Master who accepted it with barely a nod. She had noticed the collaring block sitting to one side, a rectangular stock with a recess moulded to hold her neck still for collaring. She ignored it, opting instead for her own favourite collaring block. “You’re so eager to be marked as my fucktoy, slave,” he chuckled wickedly, watching her rest her neck upon his broad thigh. “Please make this slave yours, Master,” his slave pleaded demurely, “This pet begs you.” She reached behind her head and pulled her mane aside, bearing her neck for him. She felt a proud flutter run through her as she felt her Master’s stallionhood throb and twitch desperately against her chest. “Silly little pet,” he growled. She whimpered as he planted his forehoof on her head, holding her in place possessively for her collaring. “You’re already mine.” He levitated the collar into his other hoof. She felt the soft silk padding brush against her fur as it wrapped about her neck. “Mind, body, and soul,” he declared as he tightened the strap slowly, deliberately. Roseluck felt her breath catch, her heart thumping wildly as she felt the collar tighten around her neck like Master’s inescapable grip. “All mine.” Her heart skipped a beat at the resounding finality of his padlock locking the collar in place. The padlock rested heavy and cold against her chest, a heart-shaped crest emblazoned with his cutie-mark, declaring to everypony that she was his property. She whimpered helplessly as he slowly, firmly ran a forehoof down her face and collar, trailing across her chest and wide curve of her flank before ending just short of dock ring. She gave a loud yelp as he took hold of her tail, giving it a firm tug. “A-aah…” She mewled as he began to pull her dock ring further down towards the root of her dock, lodging it firmer and tighter at the base. Then, with little fanfare, he pulled the retractable cord out of its housing in her dock ring and anchored it to the back of her collar. She moaned hard as he cruelly tightened the cord, hitching her tail higher and higher, revealing her damp leaking pussy and twitching tailhole for the world to see. “I’m going to start training you to be my personal breeding slave tomorrow. It’s a brand new raison d'être, especially for my adorable little anal slave. Tell me, what are we going to do tonight to prepare you for your new purpose in life, pet?” He demanded of her. Her heart thumped faster and faster as she realized what he was about to do. What’s more, he wanted her to tell him. “Y-you’re…” She felt her mouth go dry with anticipation. “You’re going t-to break me thoroughly t-tonight so you can m-mould me into whatever you w-wish tomorrow, Master,” she squeaked tremulously at the very thought. “Do you want to be broken, pet?” He asked, his voice suddenly turning soft as he gave her cheeks a possessive caress. “To have your mind, body, heart and soul emptied and forged into a vessel for my desires?” “Y-y-yes, Master!” She replied, “P-please break this slave,” “I can’t hear you, pet,” he teased. “Please!” She pleaded, assuming her begging position with her chest on the floor, her head gently pressed against his hooftip in offering. “This slave desires to be broken utterly and bound entirely to your will, Master! Please grant this slave her wish!” She begged him to seal her fate. “Good pet,” he smiled approvingly, making her tingle all over with anticipation, “Go select two whips you want me to break you with.” “Yes, Master,” her hooves felt wobbly as she tried to stand up on them. They somehow managed to carry her over to the wall panel displaying Master’s collection of whips along one side of the room, next to her wall-mounted St. Hayward’s cross and whipping bench. Each one was labelled with her name, signifying they were for use exclusively on her. She shivered as she selected two, kissing them reverentially as she took them down from their displays. She bore the instruments of her own enslavement back to her Master, knowing full well how they were about to play a role in ruining her. “The pussy flogger and your heavy anal crop,” her Master mused out loud as she lay on the floor before him once more to offer the toys to him. “Tell me, pet, why these two?” “Because,” she gulped at the question, her throat suddenly feeling drier than the Saddle Arabian desert. She was practically being asked to spell out her own impending doom, a task most cruel. “M-Master specializes in overstimulation b-by building many, many layers of pleasure and p-pain to overwhelm and make a slave completely yours.” She flinched at his cocked eyebrow. “I-I mean, M-Master is going to slowly t-torture and tease and torture this p-pet some more until she gives in and breaks,” she described her fate as best as she can. “Good pet,” he cooed, caressing her whimpering form with the pussy flogger. “Let’s start with your marehood. Assume your pussy training position.” He dropped a pillow on the floor for her. She obediently planted herself on her back, sliding the pillow under the small of her back to give her rear the leverage to offer her foalhole up to her Master. With flexibility born of her Master’s exercise and training regime, she spread her rear hooves wide to either side, using her front hooves to pull them apart extra wide, allowing him complete access to her most intimate parts. He smirked approvingly, his magical glow casting deep shadows across his face. He helped stretch those last precious few inches, drawing a soft groan from her. He secured her rear hoof straps to anchor rings in the floor, holding her wide open. She allowed her forehooves to be ponyhandled into place and secured to her thigh straps, giving her just enough leeway so she could hold her own pussy folds open for him. Her heart quickened as he stood back to admire her beautiful form spread helplessly open for him, his eyes gleaming with barely-restrained lust. She felt a surge of pride at the sight of her stallion’s mighty cock rising up to full mast at the sight of her alone. She let out a stiffled moan as he slowly, torturously ran a forehoof along her leaking slit. “Such a wet, messy cunny. Are you this eager to be ruined?” He teased, showing her his forehoof dripping wet with her glistening arousal. She only moaned in answer, reaching up to lick her own thick, tangy lust from his hoof. She quivered excitedly at how his cock throbbed obscenely with desire at the feel of her tongue stroking and caressing his hoof. “Hmm, such a delightful little tongue. I don’t want you biting it accidentally tonight,” he said, impassively using her soft fuzzy cheeks to wipe the drool off his hoof. She whined eagerly, leaning up to meet his hoof with her cheeks as she revelled in being used as his hoofmat. “Let’s give you something to bite on.” She licked her lips hungrily at the sight of her inflatable gag being levitated over from its display case. “Test your safety bell,” he ordered. She nodded, giving the safety bell tied to the end of her tail a test ring. “Good. Any last words before you are broken?” He asked as he screwed on the pump to her inflatable gag. She only smiled up at him, willingly opening her mouth to accept her gag with a desirous moan. “Good filly.” He cupped her muzzle with one forehoof, eliciting a whimper from her as he gave it a firm squeeze to hold it open. He pressed the rubber bulb of the gag into her muzzle, rubbing it sensuously into her tongue. She mewled helplessly as he began to inflate the bulb. It was especially moulded for her muzzle, firmly depressing her tongue and fitting snugly against her cheeks, spreading her mouth just enough to trick her senses into thinking she was about to be pleasurably throatfucked but with enough leeway to allow it to comfortably settle for long periods in her muzzle. The gag didn’t come too soon. She cried into it as her Master’s tingly magical grasp pinched her nipples, slowly twisting and tugging them mercilessly. The tender nubs quickly engorged and swelled under his grasp. She moaned as his magic roughly gripped the soft mounds of her breasts, kneading them from the base to the tip to give her erect nipples that extra bit of firmness. She let out a scream as her Master suddenly pounced on one tender mound, sinking his teeth into her sensitive skin before dragging his teeth firmly towards the tip, finishing by nipping her swollen teat, twisting and stretching it as far as it could go. She cried helplessly as his forehoof found her other breast mound, spanking it hard against his magical grip, stretching her nipple from the impact. Just as her poor, abused teats were stretched to their limits, a pair of magically-levitated clover clamps sank their teeth into their sensitive roots, drawing a long, hard moan from her. She was still panting hard, her breasts and nipples tingling madly, when she dazedly noticed his shadow loom over her. “Spread your pussy,” he ordered. Her trembling forehooves stretched her quivering flower petals open as far as her restraints allowed. She yelped as she felt the familiar sting of her pussy flogger against her spread marehood, her poor nipples bouncing to the weight of their tight clover clamps. She bit down on her gag, obediently holding her poor petals open to allow her sensitive inner flesh to be whipped three more times in quick succession, sending hot marecum splashing all over her thighs and belly. The bite of the short, accurate flogger struck her to the very core of her being. He stopped spanking her to gently caress her burning marehood with the rough straps of the flogger, setting off sparks in her tender flesh. She used the brief reprieve to dazedly ponder her fate. She knew this was just a building block that Master will build more layers on, each step contributing to the intensity of the next, all groundwork for the ultimate rutting intended to utterly ruin her. Before she could get comfortable, he brought the whip down again hard, once, twice, thrice, four, five times this time, smattering her pussy juice everywhere before it could collect again. The caressing that followed only heightened her sensitivity, sending electric thrills through her entire body. It was quickly followed by another series of whippings, six times this time. She was a quivering wreck, her cunny lips reddened and swollen to that point of exquisite tenderness but far short of lasting bruising. Every droplet of marecum dribbling down her oversensitized petals was enough to make her quiver. She panted hard, biting down on her gag as she rang her safety bell once, a signal only she and her sisters used with their Master. It coded for ‘I’m edging my climax’. “Getting so wet from having your pussy whipped hard.” He showed her the dripping wet whip before wiping her hot, sticky essence across her belly. “I can only imagine the mess you’ll be when I break you.” His whisper made her tremble from mane to hoof. “Edge it,” he growled, “Save everything for when you give all of yourself to me.” She nodded determinedly. Master had trained her to edge her surrender, that thing she once called ‘orgasms’, making her hold it off for longer and longer as her edging training progressed over the years. Now only Master’s word of command could trigger her ultimate surrender. Her eyes widened as she watched him run his tongue over what she recognized as a set of small Chineigh balls organized in a long chain of beads, each orb lined with rounded rubber spikes. “Release your pussy lips,” he ordered. She whimpered tearfully as the swollen ridges of her tender flower petals came back together, their contact stinging her harshly. As she expected, her pussy-whipping was simply groundwork to intensify her impending stuffing. “Let’s see how many balls you can take in today.” She whimpered pitifully, squirming against her bonds as he pressed the first orb against her inflamed pussy lips. She arched her back as the ball’s spiky girth spread her tender petals apart. She gave a tortured cry as her whipped insides clenched around the spiky intruder, impaling her swollen flesh against the rubber protrusions. Every motion and contraction around the ball caused the two heavy counter weights inside to shift, causing the ball to roll and alter its pressure points inside her. She stiffened as the second ball stretching her apart almost sent her over the edge into an explosive orgasm. She bit down on her gag as she fought to stem the flow of marecum. Unfortunately that meant clenching down on the spiked orbs, forcing her into a vicious circle of stimulation and edging. Just as her cunning Master planned, no doubt. She cried and gasped, her rearhooves tensing hard against her restraints as he idly pushed another orb past her swollen lips, forcing the orbs inside to settle heavily against her twitching depths. It was like a slow, gradual hoofing, each orb filling her fuller and fuller, their rounded spikes stretching her tender insides further and further. She dazedly managed to peer through her tears, watching as her belly began to bulge with his merciless stuffing. The sight made her dribble a fresh trickle of juices, easing the last of the orbs entering her. “You took all of them today. Well done, pet.” She glowed at his praise as he petted her overstuffed mound. “Now, hold it all in.” She felt him release her restraints, allowing her to flop limply onto the floor. She shivered, moaning pitifully as every motion threatened to push her into violent orgasm. “You are almost ready for your breaking, slave. Come, crawl over to your breaking rack.” He raised a cover sheet as a magician might raise the curtains on his crowning act, revealing an especially prepared stage for her final performance. It was draped in fine red velvet and covered with scattered rose petals. In the middle stood a rack designed to withstand earth-pony-grade struggling, set up to hold her with her rear in the air and her chest and face against the floor in perfect submission. At its center where her rear would be was her ‘anal anchor’, less a wooden horse and more a short, ribbed rubber wedge on a pole onto which Master would anchor and mercilessly grind her pussy while he rutted her tailhole. At the head-end of the anchor was a cup with a clover clamp designed to hold her by the root of her clit, exposing her tender nub to the exquisite strip of Neighponese silk lining the inside of the cup. Being an anal slave, the anal anchor was familiar to her. It was an intimate part of her early anal slave training. In fact, everything she had endured tonight were nothing new by themselves. She knew that it was exactly because both she and her Master were so familiar with them, that he knew exactly where her body’s limits were with individual toy, that he could confidently bring them all together into a medley of pain and pleasure that would take her to her very limits and beyond. She staggered deliriously, her marehood clenching to try and hold in her stuffing. Every slow, laborious step caused her chain of balls to shift and roll inside her, threatening to throw her over the edge into hard, blissful climax. She moaned hard in between pants as she took one step after another, crawling obediently towards her place of breaking. She almost stumbled over the platform. Her Master was there to catch her, bearing her weight on his forehoof. She smiled gratefully up at him around her gag. He flashed her a little smile of encouragement in return. “Just a bit more,” he whispered in her ear. She gave a triumphant groan as she dragged herself into place on her rack, amazed that she had somehow held the balls inside her that long. He wasted no time in pulling her front hooves into position, securing her hoof straps to their anchor points in her rack. He did the same with her rear hooves, spreading her legs as wide as the could go while keeping her rear high up in the air. She whimpered as he drew the rack, stretching her body taut as it lowered her swollen pussy into the anal anchor. The wedge spread her inflamed folds open wide, its rounded ribs digging into her whipped pussy lips. She moaned as the balls stuffed inside her settled against the ribs in the wedge. She had certainly never ridden the anal anchor with these balls inside. She stiffened as she felt his breathing against her battered mare folds, every breath of hot air teasing her wet flesh. She shivered as he licked her outer folds, giving them extra lubrication on top of her own for her impending grinding. Her thighs instinctively tried to rub together, but the rack only allowed her to squirm at best. She gave a loud, helpless cry as he bit down on her tender petal, stretching it downwards. He suddenly let it go with a snarl, allowing it to slide across the ribbed edges of the wedge. She groaned as he bit down on it again, stretching her further this time before he let her go. Stretch, release, stretch, release, alternating sides each time. She could only whimper and squirm as he stretched both folds further and further with each tug, warming them up. She gave a loud cry as his magical grip finally tugged both lips simultaneously, clamping the swollen flesh with clover clamps anchored to the wedge. For completeness, he secured her nipple clamps to the anchor as well, ensuring every little motion would twist and tug her poor helpless teats. She had almost forgotten her clit clamp. He hadn’t, obviously. She screamed into her gag as his prickly magic gripped the glans of her clit, reaching far down to its base beneath its hood. She felt him touch her very core as he dug out the root of her clit, presenting it up to the clit clamp. She braced herself, biting down hard on her gag. But no amount of bracing could prepare her for the clamp’s merciless grip upon the root of her clit. She arched her back, crying soundlessly, every muscle in her body tensing as she teetered on the very edge of orgasm. “You’re almost ready, slave.” She barely heard him say over her hard panting. “You’ve done well preparing yourself so far. Now, tell me, how many strikes upon your tailhole do you think it’ll take to prepare it perfectly?” He asked as he spread her flanks apart, revealing her tightly puckered tailhole beneath her dock ring. “T-weenneigh, M-Mathter” Roseluck panted wearily through her gag. “Twenty? Very well, start counting, pet,” he ordered. Being an anal slave, her tailhole was in many ways more sensitive and easy to pleasure than her marehood. This made tailhole whippings a far more careful procedure than pussy whippings for Roseluck. She had gifted her Master with a special heavy anal crop, sized especially for the tight ring of her tailhole to allow him to give her precision tailhole whipping with carefully controlled levels of strength and force. Even then, he always made her lead her whipping by counting out her croppings. “W-wan,” Roseluck called through her gag. She squealed loudly as the crop landed squarely on her puckered star. Her entire body bucked against her restraints, driving the anal anchor into her pussy, rattling the balls inside her. She gasped for breath as the tight ring of anal muscle spasmed around the sting. “D-dwo!” She called. The second strike came down even harder, making her tug and stretch herself against her anal anchor. “Fhwee!” THWACK! “Fow!” THWACK! The rapid and steady strokes of the crop landed one after another on her ass with little remorse. At ten strokes he stopped to inspect the quivering wreck of a mare in front of him. She cried and bucked as he proved her tailhole, pressing his hooftip against her spasming pucker, testing it for sensitivity and tightness. “What do you think, pet?” He called out to her. She shivered as she shook her head slowly in answer. “No, I didn’t think this was enough either,” He agreed with her. “Keep counting.” She took a slow, deep breath as she readied herself once more. “E-e-ewefen!” THWACK! “D-dweeeef!” THWACK! By twenty croppings she was a drooling, wheezing wreck. Her ponut had swollen to a thick, delicious plumpness. He didn’t even need to touch it to prove it. A single breath upon the inflamed star was enough to make her squeal and buck against her restraints. He wouldn’t be able to press into it anyway. The tight, fleshy ring was swollen shut. Only a firm, powerful thrust from her Master would pry it open now. “Your preparations are complete, pet.” her Master declared. She felt the merciful coolness of anal lube being lathered onto her abused tailhole, dribbling down her clamped pussy lips onto the anal anchor. She whimpered as she felt the hoof-sized flare of his mighty stallionhood press up against her tightly swollen tailhole. She didn’t even bother to brace herself. There was no point. She hung limply, resigning herself to her fate. There was no doubt. She was about to be utterly and completely broken. What followed was beyond incredible. Her Master mounted her fully, grabbing hold of her around her chest, his body weighing down into the small curve of her back. Her heart leapt at the feeling of her stallion covering her entire body possessively, at his mighty weight driving her down upon her anal anchor. She gave a shrill cry of mixed triumph and pain as the weight of his mounting pried her swollen-shut tailhole wide open. Her abused ring of tender flesh could only spasm helplessly under the mass and girth of his penetration. She was just fighting to desperately hold onto the edge when her Master finally gave her the command she had been waiting for, “Give yourself to me, my little slave, hard and long! Give me everything!” He bit down on her mane, pulling hard on her neck in conquest. She threw her head back and screamed her surrender into her gag, offering every bit of herself, her body, her mind and soul to him. He was eager to take it, all of it, as he sank deeper into her spasming tailhole, his enormous cock working her through her body-shaking climax. He took his time, every firm, deliberate stroke of his stallionhood invading her depths deeper than the last. His cock fought for every tight millimeter against the tight, spasming muscles of her ass. Every stroke was a conquest, every thrust a domination as he claimed more and more of her. With every powerful penetration he mercilessly grinded her into her anal anchor, driving the ribbed wedge deep into her ball-stuffed foalhole, rubbing her exposed clit into the strip of silk. With every withdrawal her swollen, inflamed tailhole would stretch obscenely around his receding cock, her pussy lips and nipples stretched taut against their anchors. Then he would slam into the tender flesh of her whipped ass and pussy once more, driving his cock home. He did not hurry, working his slave over at his own torturous pace. For his slave, her ordeal stretched into an eternity, every sense in her little body long since overloaded. She had lost count of her orgasms. She didn’t even know where one began and another ended. Everything had melted together into the singularity that was her Master, filling her with his very being. This was her being broken, turned into a limp, twitching, drooling vessel that only existed to be filled with his desire. And so she broke. Her mind, her heart, her soul floated into a subspace of pleasure beyond anything physical - a beautiful, happy place where there was only her Master and the wonderful bond between them. There was no more desire or want here. There was only him. She was home. He gave a loud, triumphant roar as his cock finally struck her innermost depths, his mighty stallionhood surging with wave after wave of hot, fiery stallion seed. He bucked into her as he sought to fill her to the brim with his essence. Her belly, already bulging with her stuffing, began to swell even further until it was taut with seed. The swollen pucker of her tailhole bulged around the cock plugging it until its tight seal finally broke under the pressure of his cum. He panted as he slowly pulled his cock out amidst the rivulets of thick cum dribbling out of her ruined, gaping tailhole. He took but a moment to gather his breath before he set about releasing her from her anchor and rack. He levitated over the pile of pillows, turning his lap into a soft cradle. He carefully pulled her limp body into his embrace. He gently deflated her gag and pulled it out, quickly kissing her to suck out all the pooled drool in her mouth to ensure she didn’t choke on any of it. She barely quivered as he gently eased out the chain of Chineigh balls out of her marehood. He then levitated over a baby bottle filled with water. “Drink,” he ordered as he pressed the rubber teats against her lips. She obeyed wordlessly, suckling the bottle silently like the doll she had been reduced to. Once he was satisfied she had drunk enough, he loosely linked her hoofstraps together just the way she liked being bound after a long, hard rutting. He then sat back to cuddle with her, allowing his freshly-broken mare to properly imprint upon her Master. He smiled down at her dim, unfocused eyes, their extinguished sparkle a mark of their success in breaking her. “Well done, my little slave,” he whispered softly as he rocked her the rest of the way into the welcome embrace of sleep. “Well done.” "Uh, clockface." "Hmm? What is it, Pokey?" "I think I might have left the pet bowls unwashed in the sink. Can you let me get up so I can nip home and...." "Oh, shut up. Less talk, more cuddle." > Chapter 3 - Waking Up To Another Dream > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Roseluck was a morning pony. You have to be as a gardener. Unfortunately that meant poor Pokey had to wake up just as early to be able to make them all breakfast and fresh lunch boxes. So Roseluck has, over the years of being Pokey’s pet, trained herself to wake up even earlier than her Master, just so she can wake him up slowly and lovingly. Roseluck stirred, her ears twitching as her muzzle opened in a little mew of a yawn. She slowly blinked the sleep out of her eyes, frowning at the first rays of dawn tickling her eyelids. Somepony had already gotten up and opened the curtains in Master’s bedroom. She idly wondered why Master hadn’t blindfolded her for bed as he normally did. Then she saw him, his face sliding into focus, his muzzle barely touching her own as he cuddled her bound body in his sleep. Memories of the previous night returned. Master had cleaned her up carefully with a towel and a bowl of warm water afterwards. Then he carried her to his bed and cuddled with her, kissing and gazing deep into her eyes, admiring the ‘broken look’ in them as he drifted off the sleep. She enjoyed that, that feeling she called her own ‘subspace’, the various states each sub loved being in the most. Her fellow subs would often chat about what their own personal version of ‘subspace’ was at their weekly club meetings. Each sub, even her own sisters, seemed to have their own versions. Roseluck’s own was a place of sheer happiness and fulfillment beyond physical pleasure, that profoundly wonderful feeling of completely being made Master’s prized possession. Master knew of her ‘subspace’. In fact, he was the first pony she had brought it up with, admitting to him of this strange new happy floaty sensation she would often feel towards the end of a session. Master had told her it was her ‘subspace’ and helped her discuss it with her sisters and other subs, even helped her achieve it to explore it further. Master enjoyed helping her achieve her ‘subspace’, so much so that Roseluck liked to make it clear to him that he had succeeded. ‘Breaking’ was one such way he enjoyed, one he would save for special occasions, and he seemed to absolutely love seeing her roleplaying a ‘broken mare’ for him afterwards. It wasn’t difficult, a simple matter of putting on a blank expression, staring out into the distance to give herself that unfocused, glazed look, and lowering her eyelids to remove that reflective sparkle from her normally bright eyes. In fact Roseluck was so sexily good at the roleplay that she was always the default victim when her Master and sisters fancied a little ‘mare-breaking’ play. She was unfortunately a victim of her own success, being so good at her roleplay that her Master and sisters would often fail to resist rutting the ‘freshly-broken mare’. Keeping up the ‘broken look’ while having one’s oversensitized body bucked hard was difficult to say the least. Failure never fails to end a scene with lots of laughter and teasing, at least. She felt somewhat conflicted that particular morning. Should she keep up the roleplay? But if she did, she wouldn’t be able to have her way with her Master’s delicious morning wood as she gently woke him up. It wasn’t normally a problem as usually Daisy and Lily would be around to do the deed, leaving her to jealously watch maintain her roleplay. But her two sisters were missing from their cages by the bed that morning. The thick pillows and blanket inside bore depressions suggesting recent occupancy but the cages were otherwise empty. ‘Did they get up early to carry on with the preparations they mentioned yesterday?’ she wondered. An impish little Roseluck popped into being on her withers, complete with horns and pitchfork. ’But, but, Master’s cock!’ It argued, very persuasively albeit squeakily, pointing out the mighty rod that was already mostly out of its sheath, poking Roseluck in her belly. ‘Master’s cock,’ Angel Roseluck nodded in solemn agreement. ‘Buck roleplay.’ ‘Master’s cock it is,’ Roseluck decided as the two little shoulder Roselucks shared a hoof-bump before disappearing. Besides, a broken mare can still be slave to cock, right? Master certainly wouldn’t argue, not when he’s too busy moaning. Her hoof straps were bound loosely enough to allow her to slip out of her Master’s hold, gently rolling him onto his back. Her stallion grunted softly, his forehooves adorably reaching out for his missing slave in his sleep. She offered him a pillow to hug in her stead, silently apologizing and promising to make it up to him. She inched her way down until she was lying where she belonged, in between Master’s legs. She giggled softly at the sight of her Master’s mast standing proud. Master, being a physician, had tried to explain the physiology of morning woods to her. But she preferred her own theory – that he was dreaming of particularly happy things. Because it meant she could make his dreams come true. She minded her manners, pressing her muzzle against the base of his testicles in a lovingly worshipful kiss. He groaned softly as she slowly traced the wrinkles in his balls with her tongue, lavishing them with trails of gleaming affection. He gave a soft rasp as her tongue found the root of his pole. She reached out with her bound forehooves, cupping her stallion’s precious cum sacks and tugging them gently as she buried her muzzle in the root of his cock. She allowed her licking and kissing to take her upwards along the shaft, showering every inch with her love. She giggled as it throbbed appreciatively to her affections, booping her playfully on the nose. Her efforts were rewarded with a trickle of precum already collecting at the tip when she arrived. She kissed the glistening bead, licking and suckling every drop out of his slit with a happy hum. Licking her lips hungrily, she got to work on the main course. She allowed his broad flare to spread her lips apart. She worked slowly, bobbing her head up and down, letting more and more of his majestic stallionhood to penetrate her muzzle with each motion. There was a soft pop as the whole of his flare tip slipped into her mouth, its girthy mass pressing down on her tongue. She had never been with any other stallion and her possessive Master would never share her, but she had a feeling her Master was on the large side. Considering his name and cutie mark, it was probably a part of his natural talent. She certainly had trouble when he first began training her to service him orally. But he had been very patient, spending the first few weeks encouraging her and building her confidence, no matter how much she accidentally scraped him or bit him with her teeth. She knew she must’ve hurt him loads, but he bore it stoically, patiently guiding her each time. Now she prided herself a master of the art, a skill bestowed by her Master, one she was always eager to show off to him. She was just about to go down on him when she felt a forehoof caress her mane. She blushed brightly as she peered up meekly at her Master. “Good morning, Rosey," he smiled down at her, ruffling her mane fondly. “You and your sisters are truly the best way to wake up in the morning.” She beamed around his cock at his praise. “I was just thinking I should be feeding you breakfast. Would you like that?” She nodded enthusiastically, her smile around his cock growing eager as she watched her Master magically open their bedside cabinet and levi out a potion bottle labelled ‘Rosey’s Morning Feed’. He uncapped it and downed the entire bottle in one gulp. Roseluck felt him shiver briefly beneath her, his balls visibly swelling up heavy and turgid with her breakfast. She trembled with excitement as he grasped her tightly by her mane. With a firmness that instantly bent her to his will, he pushed her down on his stallionhood, working his tip into her tongue. She moaned the happy moan of a toy being put to good use as she lapped at his throbbing tip. “Mmmm, oh yes, good girl, Rosey,” Pokey groaned pleasurably, halfway dropping his usual dom demeanor to bask in her skill. That was another thing Roseluck loved about her morning feedings — her Master tended to be more relaxed and vocal in his enjoyment of his slaves. “Mmnh, slrp, ahhm, shlp, haahn,” Roseluck made adorably feminine sounds of pleasure, earning herself more satisfying throbs from his cock against her tongue. While her Master might hold onto her by her mane, that was more for her immersion than actual control. In truth, blowjobs are one of the many situations where the sub have near complete domination of her dom, turning their Masters into putty in their hooves. And Roseluck absolutely loved how she could absolutely drive her Master mad with pleasure when giving him head. “Hmmngg, yes, yes, good pet, just the tip.” He growled in a budding crescendo. Roseluck felt his tip flare up, stuffing her muzzle to full with its hot throbbing girth. She peered up at him with her big soulful emerald eyes, giving him a pleading look and a begging whine that said ‘please feed me, Master’. She felt him freeze up, stunned by her irresistible cuteness. “Rosey!” He cried as he grasped her mane in both hooves and held her in place as his flare surged with an explosive burst of cum. Roseluck moaned triumphantly as the first hot deluge flooded her tongue. She had only a moment to savour it before she had to swallow to make room for the next surge, then the next, and another. His pulsing cock did not stop drenching her muzzle in rich, thick cream. She felt her belly begin to swell with his sloshing hot batter, but the magical breakfast potion made sure her stuffing was far from over. She wasn’t about to let it end either, her tongue lapping at his throbbing flare and her mouth suckling him for all he was worth, drawing his climax longer than any paradise had any right to be. She suckled on him like a mare possessed, revelling in his growls of ecstasy, craving more and more of his delightfully sweet and salty lust. Her Master made sure to eat plenty of sweet fruits and watery vegetables to produce only the sweetest, smoothest cream for his pets and it certainly helped in training and conditioning Roseluck’s taste for it. Now she was helplessly addicted to it, every drop a pleasurable aphrodisiac that only spurred her thirst. She didn’t stop suckling and licking until her Master had given her every last dribble of cum. “Thank you for feeding me, Master.” Roseluck kissed her Master’s thoroughly-cleaned cock in gratitude. “It was yummy. It feels like more than usual though.” She felt her full belly slosh a little more than usual. “I’m using a new potion formula for your feeding, with greatly improved volume, sugar, protein and citric acid output.” Her Master explained as he caressed her tummy, making sure she was properly stuffed. “Nutrition is important when you’re carrying a foal.” Roseluck giggled at his earnest thoughtfulness. “Thank you, Master. Your pet will make sure to fatten herself up for your foal.” “Good girl.” Roseluck squeed at his praise, leaning into his loving petting. Pokey stretched luxuriously as he slid out of bed and onto the lush carpeting. He magically unchained her hoof straps, allowing her to follow him. “Looks like your sisters have left early to continue our preparations,” he said, eyeing their empty cages. “Their hard work has certainly earned a reward. I think Daisy would enjoy whole night in the torture chambers, would you agree?” “I’m sure she would, Master.” Roseluck nodded with a knowing little smile. “Especially if you make her ride the magical unicorn rainbow express.” “I thought we agreed to stop calling it that.” Pokey chuckled at the name. “Well, Night Light just finished designing a new high-energy magical energy prod so I might do as you advise...and tell Daisy it was your idea.” He chuckled at the sudden palor on her face. “As for Lily, I am torn between tossing her into the tentacle pit or having her run the predator-prey race.” Pokey tapped his chin thoughtfully. “What do you think, Rosey?” “As long as you transform into a manticore for the race, I’m sure she would absolutely love it.” Roseluck giggled. “Hmm, I don’t know, my manticore might be a little rusty.” Pokey chuckled. “Well, I told them to have our arrangements ready for ten o’clock. We have two hours until your breeding begins. Should I take you for a walk, Rosey?” He looked down to find his pet kneeling on her hindlegs, looking up pleadingly at him with her riding crop in her mouth. His lips curled into a fond smile as he accepted the crop, giving his slave a mane-ruffle for her show of obedience. “Hmmm, now what could my little pet possibly want with this?” He asked teasingly. “Please discipline me, Master,” Roseluck begged for her morning discipline, a brief ritual her Master would give her and her sisters to start the day. It was an exercise entirely separate from punishments, meant to remind them of their place as his devoted slaves. Unlike their play scenes the routine in their discipline sessions made for few surprises but the regularity made it more a moment of quick intimacy for the herd. “Hmm, yes, that reminds me, I won’t be whipping your cute little rump from today onwards.” He gave an amused chuckle at her pout. “Oh, don’t give me that look. I didn’t say I won’t still discipline you every morning. We’ll just be doing it differently while you’re bearing my foal for me.” He gave her a kiss on her forehead, mollifying her pout ever so slightly. He took a seat on his armchair by the fireplace, beckoning her over to kneel on her hindlegs on the floor before him. “Waiting position.” He ordered. She couldn’t help but wonder what her Master had in mind as she spread her hindlegs as wide as possible while bringing her forelegs together in front of her. Normally he would have her and her sisters either suspended or bent over on the floor or bed for their disciplining. She quickly got her answer as she felt his magic grasp lock her foreleg hoof straps together. His forehoof gripped her head tightly before pushing her deep down between his legs. She gave a muffled gasp of surprise as her muzzle was pressed into the heavily laden sacks of his testicles. She was forced to close her eyes as his thick, heavy cock slapped against her forehead. Her gasp filled her nose and mouth with the thick, powerful musk of his balls, their thick leathery skin still hot and sweaty from being over-stimulated into producing her breakfast. Her immediate instinct was to draw away for fresh air but she quickly found herself struggling against her Master’s firm hold on her head. “MMMmmnnn!” She moaned as she was forced to breath in another lungful of his strong, heady scent. “Breathe, Rosey,” he ordered, his whip magically tracing circles along her quivering thighs. “Breathe it all in. Fill yourself with your Master’s scent.” He ascentuated every word with a teasing stroke on her leaking slit with the crop. “Mmmm...mmm…” Her struggles faded away into feeble fidgeting as his powerful musk overwhelmed her sensitive senses and flooded her mind with his essence. “Mmmm...nnn…” She began to drool from both ends as his crop caressed her winking clit. Her mind had gone blank from the heady fumes fogging it up. His all-pervasive stallionliness made her madly twitching pussy leak hungrily around the invading crop. Something about his scent gripped a primal part of her mind, summoning up primitive instincts that few ponies have used since the cavepony days. It was a system hard-wired into her other primitive functions, namely survival and procreation, and said system was being hammered into submission by his musk. “Rosey is Master’s broken slave.” He said in slow, foalish words to make it easier for her sluggish mind to imprint his will. “B-bwoken swave…” The poor slave’s murmur sounded muffled against his testicles. She otherwise remained still where she knelt at his hooves as he burned her new identity into her mind. “Master’s broken slave bears this pussy that belongs to Master.” He emphasized by sinking the head of the riding crop into her drenched honeypot, causing the slave to dribble helplessly all over the carpet. “Pushy...belongs...Master.” The slave echoed blankly, every word reshaping her from her body to her soul. “This slave’s pussy is for Master’s fun and his foals.” He said with cool, calculated patience. “Fow Mastew’s...fun and...foalsh.” Her words grew increasingly slurred as his will reshaped her very core. “From now on this slave is Master’s foalhole, Master’s broodmare.” He sealed her fate as he levitated his Master phaser into her bound forehooves, its prongs already crackling with a spark shaped into the unmistakable form of a breeding mare's mark - A heart contained in a circle with his cutie-mark and her own at its centre. “Bwoodmare…” Her bound forehooves took hold of the phaser with surprising strength of purpose, aiming the sparking prongs against her own belly where her womb would be. “Mastew’s...foawhowe…” He pushed the crop deep into her winking cock sock. “Give yourself to me, slave.” He ordered. She gave a muffled cry of defeat into his balls as she pressed the burning brand against her waiting fur. Her entire body trembled violently from mane to tail with the force of her surrender. He held her tightly against him through her throes of submission, his testicles muffling her feeble moans. He was patient. He waited until she had stopped quivering, until her whimpers had lapsed into gentle panting, before he released his firm hold on her. He allowed her to remain kneeling at his hooves, resting her chest in his lap as she used his thighs as a pillow. “I think I’ll enjoy doing this every morning for the next 11 months,” he remarked as he stroked her mane lovingly. She could only suppress a genuine quiver from ruining her roleplay, much to his amusement.