//------------------------------//
// Gravity shmavity - part 3 
// Story: Fall of Equestria: FoE Falls 
// by Sealcake 
//------------------------------//

Blueblood stood, sweat trailing down her forehead. She was going to wipe the drops away when she stopped herself, and gave a good, long look at her hands.
Most of her carefully kept fingernails were broken—in exception of the middle fingers' ones. She inwardly smiled as she realized she could still flip off people with elegance—, and the white fur, common in all of Celestia's progeny, was a dark red, the hairs sticky with dried blood.
Well, she would have time to clean that later. But now... now she would relish on her handiwork.

Princess Blueblood looked over the caribou, a smug smile on her face. She had had to chop off some of the more prominent spikes of the antlers, leaving nothing but stumps behind without the capacity to catalyze magic—'Isn't karma beautiful?'—, but she had finally done it; she had taken their antlers, made them improvised dildos, and shoved them up her captors' asses. 
And though the antlers now looked like sticks with small nubs, they would not be easy to get out; Blueblood had made sure to cut the spikes diagonally, in such a way that every nub had a sharp end. They would slide in easy, but moving them backwards would... itch in the best of cases.

Letting out a sigh, Princess Blueblood stretched her sore body. Giving a last look to her work, she squatted again, her bloodied hands searching through the caribous' clothes—or pants, since that was the only thing they wore nowadays, even in guard duty.
Making up her mind, she fully undressed both caribou and tried to put on their pants. 
Sighing in annoyance as the pants slid down again, she settled on using the last hole in the belt, and yet the garments remained baggy around her waist, going down to her hips if she didn't pull them up every now and then. Biting her lip, she made a new hole on the belt; better to look a little ridiculous than to show her—ugh—lady parts every time she bent forwards.
She crouched and rolled up the pants; didn't fancy tripping.

Blueblood stretched again. Her magic enveloped the batons—even if they didn't have mana, they could still work as blunt weapons, and though Blueblood had taken every possesion her captors had, nothing was too much on her situation.

However, a sound distracted her, and she turned around—everything happened so damn fast. 
One moment she was standing there, then the next she was being pulled into the kiss of her life. No, 'kiss' was putting it short; it was an outright snog, tongue included. She was pushed against the wall, two strong hands keeping her in place by holding her from the shoulders. Her eyes glued shut as tears tried to leak, her hooves kicking air as the perpetuator deepened the kiss.
Blueblood flushed a deep red, her hands trying to stop whoever was violating her mouth. Her mind went foggy, anticipating a shutdown. How had her spell not detected this person? She had scanned both ends of the aisle, hadn't she?
Her hands collided with, with something—it sort of felt like a pony, but it was too tough. She would have gasped hadn't her tongue been—ugh! Why did things like this happen to her? Had she pissed off some old god? Was this karma? She knew she was a jerk sometimes, but she didn't go around burning orphanages and 'oh godness, please stop!'

The moment this stopped, the moment she was getting revenge. That is, if she knew who she was fighting. Her opponent seemed incredible and unfortunately sturdy; her punchs had done absolutely nothing, and they were getting weaker as the pressure on her shoulders increased, immobilizing her.
It couldn't be a caribou, even one with thick skin would have felt something by now. Who was this person?

'Just stop!'

She wanted to scream, but any intentions to do so were cut short as she felt the stranger's horn—unicorn! Yes, this made things easier. She just had to overload the—her train of thought stopped as an electric current went down her body and through her brain. 
Everything seemed to slow down for a second, her heartbeat resounding in her ears. 
Then it came crashing down.

Her eyes opened, wide as dishes. Her muscles twitched as the electricity made its way inside her. Whoever was in front of her, she could only make out the general shape before the blackness took her in, the last sensation being the one of a disgusting, warm and wet tongue sliding out of her mouth.





Blueblood wake up with a gasp, her lungs commanding her to inhale all the air she could took in. After coughing for such action, she made to stand up, her arms trembling as she used them for support when her stubborn legs refused to steady her.
She tried to recall why was she in the floor, only to have her mind assault her with memories in a quick succession.

"Gah!" she yelled, her throat itching with the last remnants of the stranger's spell. Her hands flew to her mouth, and she chastised herself for screaming; what would have happened to her had her assailant been here?
She quivered, and tears threatened to fall from her eyes again. Her mind was not kind, either, firing questions that made her bit the inside of her mouth.

With trembling hands, she patted her pants. They were still there, where they should be—protecting her, protecting her from... them. She shuddered, sweat trailing down her temples. Her breath was fast, and yet she had the sensation that, were she to inhale too much, she would suffocate.
The Princess brought her knees to her chest, trying to get as small as possible. What if they were out there, just around the corner, silently mocking her? What if they had done something to her, but put the pants back on so they could later shatter that fragile sense of safety? What if they were waiting for her to wake up, just so they could take her properly?

She almost chocked on a sob. Closing her eyes, she counted to ten, each number being sung carefully—as if she were teaching to foals how to count.
With newfound courage, her hands touched her neck. A collar-free neck.

'Keep yourself together, Blueblood.'

It was a miracle she hadn't gotten a collar the moment she was... changed. Blueblood knew, by visual analyzis, that the collars had certain magical qualities in them. First, and the most obvious, they sealed with rune magic. That is to say, if you weren't a caribou, you couldn't get it off. 
Second, they had mind-affecting spells. Depending on how much your owner wanted to screw with you—in both senses of the word—, the standard effect was blocking part of your thought process.
And third, if you got a collar, it meant the end—you were owned now, and there was no coming back.

Blueblood gulped, her fingers tracing the zone where her Adam's apple used to be.

A raspy sound startled her from her musings, and Blueblood turned her head, ears perked up in attention. 
In front of her, at least three meters away, stood an—no, she wasn't seeing right. What was before her just could not be. It was a tall pegasus wearing a simple, ashen dress with a large skirt that reached the floor. 
The clothing wasn't what had picked up Blueblood's curiosity, though, it was the fact that, protruding from the stranger's forehead, she could catch sight of a horn.

Blueblood's breath got caught in her lips, her body trembling with—was that excitement?—yelling for her to do something. She swallowed, what if she was hallucinating? What if the caribou had drugged her? She buried the sudden urge to cry, and sent the dark thoughts of what could be happening to her body in reality to the corners of her mind.

Fighting back tears, Blueblood made to stand up, using the wall for support while her magic grabbed one of the batons.

With silent, hesitant steps, Blueblood made her way towards the hallucination, baton ready to strike. But every step felt heavier than the other, and the closer she got to the—her throat went tight—alicorn, the worse she felt.
She came to a stop when the sensation was too much, and the baton dropped to the floor, as if suddenly hit with an invisible force. Following the baton, her knees gave out and she fell to the floor.

Blueblood cursed under her breath. She could have run, and yet she had decided to come closer to the enemy! Sending prayers to all the gods she knew about, she prepared herself for punishment.

The alicorn turned around, her—her!—eyes scanning the zone until they finally fell on her form. She frowned, but the corners of her lips moved to form a weird, small grin.
Squatting, the alicorn came face to face with Blueblood, who crawled backwards in an attempt to get away from the increased pressure. The alicorn frowned again, her lips moving as if to say something, but no sound came out.

Once at a safe distance, Blueblood quickly discarded her options; she couldn't run, she couldn't fight, and yelling would get her nowhere. Maybe she could use the caribous' bodies to buy time, but then, what would she do? Where would she run?

Her hands clenched into fists, and she fought the sudden temptation to yank her hair off. 

Torn between wanting to scream until she spat blood and silently sobbing until her dear mom came back to soothe her, she gave a weak, "H-hello?"

The alicorn tilted her head, her brow arched. Then, in a low, husky voice, she spoke up, "Why, hello there."