THE OVERGOAT KNOWS WHAT HE IS DOING... Mostly.
Something was bugging me, but I couldn't put a name to it.
It had started just after I had healed Honey Butter, and had began intensifying as Bray went to go research whatever records he kept for where Honey had been staying before being sent here. Whatever it was, it was pestering me like an annoying mosquito, but I didn't have a means of swatting it yet with the club of realization.
Meanwhile, the ladies were busy demolishing the pancakes on the dining table. They were going through it like... well, honestly, like a group of starving mares at an all you can eat buffet. There was nothing that I could compare it to, as nothing can properly describe the massacre of the cakes of pan that was unleashed before me. Words failed me, they should have sent a poet. I honestly wished that I had a camera to capture it with. I later heard that bits of pancake were found stuck to the ceiling.
Honey Butter seemed to be demonstrating a little more restraint than most, although that may have been because she was continuously looking back at her reflection in that metal spoon, almost as if she was afraid that it might change back if she didn't keep an eye on it. I could hardly blame her: If I'd been fucked up like that, and then suddenly changed, not just to normal, but into a hottie (At least, according to the other mares), I'd be wondering if I might wake up from whatever dream I was having as well.
...Wake up?
Wait, I'd bitten the inside of my mouth, and I had felt pain from it. I knew that the common belief is that it is impossible to feel pain in a dream, but that isn't one hundred percent accurate: It is possible to feel pain that originated in the real world while you were dreaming, without being woken up. Conceivably, I could have bitten the inside of my mouth hard enough in my sleep that it was felt in my dream, but I am not that heavy a sleeper: In order to be able to sleep peacefully, I typically need a quiet room, pitch blackness, and a soft mattress. Any sort of light, sound, or disturbance would wake me up instantly. Given what I tend to do when I am woken up by anything other than my alarm clock, that means I may give my 'WHO DARES TO AWAKEN ME!?' bit at odd hours. That has, of course, made things a little difficult for my past girlfriends. Can you imagine waking up next to that in the middle of the night? Sorry, getting off-topic again. The point was, I had a reason to believe that my dream may not be just a dream. But how could that be, when this entire situation was so bug-house nuts?
I was distracted from my thoughts when Honey did something surprising.
She stopped eating, and then, after a moment, closed her eyes, and gave a pleasant 'mmmmm' sound. And no, it wasn't a 'Mmmmm, this tastes good' sound. I'm sorry, but while I'm certain that your pancakes may be great, there is no possible way your pancakes can elicit that kind of noise from a female of any species (Barring using pancakes in a way that I am not going to discuss anywhere outside of my bedroom). I recognized that 'Mmmmm'. I've caused that 'Mmmmm'... and enough times to be fully justified in being proud of it. I have skillz. Let's leave it at that. If I say anymore, it'll sound like bragging.
The point is, that was not an 'mmmmm' that belonged at a dinner table... or at least not unless very specific actions were being taken at a dinner table that certainly weren't being done right now.
And the 'mmmmm' that followed that first one a moment later was even more inappropriate than the first.
"Geez," one of the mares whispered to the one beside her, "I didn't think the pancakes were that good. Which stack is she eating off of?"
The one beside the whisperer pointed at a stack. The whisperer asked, "Pass me a couple, will you?"
Honey moved on from simple 'mmmmm's' to the 'oh' stage. You know, 'oh oh oh oh oh'? And if the 'mmmmm's' were suggestive, the oh's, and the moans that quickly followed, were positively lurid. Honey had both forelegs on the table, her postier firmly seated on the ground. She was squirming, but otherwise, seemed to be alright. I'd have stood up and checked on her, but there were two very good reasons why I did not.
Reason Number One: I was too busy staring at her with my best 'What The Fuck' face on, and let me tell you, my 'What The Fuck' face is absolutely fantastic when I decide to wear it.
Reason Number Two: I don't care if those sounds were coming from a mare, they sounded human enough to have started giving a very important part of my anatomy a bad case of 'rigor mortis'. And, ah, given the fact that this place was clothing optional, standing up would have given twenty virgin mares a sight that I doubt that they were in any way prepared for.
Honey reached the 'Yes Yes YES!!!' stage, and was escalating quickly. Up until now, the mares had hardly paid her much mind, but at this point, Honey was the absolute center of attention... and the blushes that came to the faces of a couple of the 'virgins' implied that they were slightly more worldly than expected. Maybe they'd walked in on their parents or something. Finally, Honey reached what I will, delicately, refer to as the 'peak', arched her back, let out one long, loud, magnificent 'YEEEEEEESSSS!!!' sufficient to give everything male and possessing working gonads a case of serious stiffness, and then...
POP!!!
A horn popped out of her forehead.
Thankfully, it didn't shoot out any magic or anything: Just that one image of suddenly sprouting a horn was bad enough on its own. If it had started launching lightning bolts or fireballs at that moment... well, nevermind. Let's not be vulgar.
Honey Butter opened her eyes, blushing and panting in a 'oh certainly not suggestive at all' manner, and after a moment, seemed to notice that something was hanging over her eyes. With a look of horror, she looked at me, and asked, "Did... did an ear just sprout from my forehead?"
Shaking my head, I answered, "No. I am pretty sure that's a horn."
"Oh. Okay." She actually looked relieved for a minute. Then, after a moment to digest what I had just said, asked, "Why did I sprout a horn?"
I answered, with perfect honesty, "I have no id..."
"OH!!!" Honey suddenly moaned, closing her eyes again, and going into another... fit. The other mares sitting beside her got up and started backing away, possibly worried that she might explode or something.
'What the fuck?' I thought to myself. 'What, is she going to sprout wings next?'
Faster than before, and seemingly a great deal more intensely, she reached another... peak. And...
"YEEEEEEEEEESSSSS!!!!"
POP!!! POP!!!!
'DAMMIT I WAS JOKING!!!'
Wings. Motherfucking wings. A pair of them, sticking out of Honey's sides. Dafuq, man. What. The. Fuck.
I am not going to go into detail about how Honey looked after round two with The Happy Fairy. I will say that she was resting against the table, one cheek against the wooden surface, panting, and with a very satisfied look on her face. That's all. Paint your own damn picture, alright? She was in her happy place, for the first time in her life, and didn't give a fuck about decorum. Hell, given the life she'd lived, I doubt she even knew the definition of the word.
I did notice one thing at this point that I had not noticed before: The scar on her face was completely gone. There wasn't even a trace of it anymore. Her face was completely whole now. And she did look a little more filled out. Still thin, but not fashion-model caricature thin.
But why had the spell stopped before?
"What... what is an alicorn doing here?"
I turned to see Bray, standing to one side, an expression of horror on his face, so severe that it was almost comical.
Before I could ask him what an alicorn was, something rushed through my brain, possibly a piece of Grogar's memories.
'Alicorn. The only type of pony to naturally possess both wings and horn. Alicorns are known to be immortal, or perhaps just extremely long-lived, and are either ageless, or age at such a slow rate as to be impossible to measure. Known to be extremely resilient, both against physical harm and magical assault. Alicorns possess tremendous powers, and in most societies are either treated as royalty, worshiped as gods, or both. Extremely dangerous. Do not approach.'
So, wait, Honey just transformed into a god? How would that...?
Wait a sec. I remembered, from Grogar's memories, that when he healed Bray, the same spell had basically made the donkey immortal. As far as I could guess, there were no winged or horned donkeys in the world, so making Bray immortal had just created an immortal donkey. The spell I'd used may have been the exact same one that had healed Bray, but Honey was a pony, not a donkey. Give immortality to an ass, and it remains an ass. Give immortality to a pony?
I guess you get an alicorn.
As for the delay between the healing and this... sudden transformation? Logic, as far as it can be applied to bullshit twinkly magic stuff, states that, while magic can do a lot, it shouldn't be able to create something from absolutely nothing. The spell may have used Honey Butter's own natural reserves to restore herself, but given the mare's deplorable condition, it hit a point where trying to heal her further would end up doing more harm. But then she ate some more, and her body had more to work with, so the spell went to work with a will.
The spell probably had one hell of a pain-killing effect, given that, in Grogar's memories at least, Bray hadn't even whimpered while his skeletal structure was completely reshaped. So, when three new appendages were added (If you can count a horn as an appendage), complete with new nerves firing on all cylinders, instead of feeling outrageous amounts of pain, she just felt good. Really, really, good. Inappropriately good, to the point that a few mares had applauded after round two.
I'd need to figure out a new healing spell, one that wasn't going to spontaneously create god-kings and/or queens every time I used it. I had a feeling that there was probably some sort of cosmic scale that I had just tipped slightly, and there might be consequences for tipping things too far...
But back to the subject at hand, that being why there was now a deity at my breakfast table. How to play this off...
I shrugged, then said, "You know, I was thinking to myself, this palace is a terrible mess, it would be impossible to get it clean if this is all the staff we have." I paused, then asked, "It is, isn't it?"
Bray nodded, mutely.
"So, I thought to myself, why not put an alicorn on the staff?" I continued. "You know, someone with the ability to get at those hard to reach places on the ceiling, and has magic enough to clean entire rooms in an instant. Having that kind of power, I think we could have this place looking spotless in no time."
Bray's jaw dropped, hung open like that for a good minute and a half, and then closed with a click so hard he winced. "Master, begging your pardon, BUT ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!?!?"
I smiled, tilting my head to one side, my expression saying, louder than words, 'I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, but only because your anger amuses me. Don't push it.' Bray blanched, then cleared his throat, and resumed in a more even tone.
"You've allowed an alicorn, one of the few beings that may constitute a threat to you," Bray continued, " to come into existence. A being that can demolish mountains at a whim? And you intend to use her as a maid?
I tapped a hoof against my chin, then said, "Hold that thought." I turned towards Honey Butter, and asked, "Honey?"
Honey Butter replied, "Yes, master?" Her tone was one that brought back my previous 'rigor mortis', but at two or three times the intensity.
'Two Legs Good, Four Legs Bad, dammit. Down boy, down!'
Struggling to keep all manner of emotions in check, I asked, "Do you mind being my maid? Cleaning the place, top to bottom? Following my orders, whatever they may be?"
"Anything you want, master," came her immediate reply, in a tone that, were everyone in this room human, or at least humanoid, would have had me screaming for everyone else in the room to leave while I began pulling my pants off. Ponies should not be allowed to sound that... arousing.
I turned back to Bray, and gave a smile, saying, "I fail to see the problem here, Bray." At his disbelieving look, I motioned for him to come closer. Once he did, I whispered in his ear, "Think of it like this, Bray: I'm going to have to deal with every petty warlord and wannabe royal who thinks that, just because I was dead, I'll be too weak to take back what is mine. When word gets around that not only can I turn a slave into a god at a whim, but that one such god exists solely to clean my palace, well, I think that those would-be overlords will think twice about challenging me, don't you? I suspect that, once the rumor spreads, many will fall right into line, especially with what I have planned at Honey's old stomping grounds."
Bray took a moment to digest that. After a moment, he said, "A dangerous gambit, master, but if you are confident that you can keep her under your control, I will not question your will."
"Capital," I said, smiling. "Now, I trust you have the information I requested?"
The donkey nodded, and said, "Yes master. I suspected where her origins were, just from the description she gave, but I wanted to be certain. Trog-Gob's farm isn't far from here, well within the range of teleportation. And if you plan on making an example of him for his actions, today would probably be the best day to do so."
Curious, I asked, "Why might that be?"
"Today," Bray announced, "is the day of The Festival." He then began to explain exactly what that was...
-----------------------------------
Of all the ideas Trog-Gob had ever had, he loved The Festival most of all.
As the latest of his victims, a middle-aged mare who was now recognizable as a pony only due to the overall shape of her bloody carcass, was hauled away, the Trog reflected on how perfect the idea had been.
Trog-Gob had appetites, ones that were not slated with wine, or food, or any of the multitudes of recreational substances available in Tambelon. No, he had a hunger for torture, an appetite for destruction, and a lust for despair. And he was not alone. Trog-Gob had, before rising to power, met more than a few Trogs like himself. Even amongst Trogs, who were willing to overlook many forms of decadence, he and his cohorts would be viewed with hatred and disgust, even though they were amongst the wealthiest and most powerful in the land. However, exactly because Trog-Gob were so wealthy aqnd powerful, he was able to create a means of slating their thirsts for torture discretely. Well, not discretely: It was something of an open secret, as many knew, but had no means of proving what happened on the farm, and attempting to do so could end up with unfortunate consequences... much like Trog-Gob's other family members had.
Poison was far too quick for Trog-Gob's tastes, but it got the job done discretely enough.
Trog-Gob wished he didn't have to be so... discrete, in spite of the power he wielded. His grandfather had insisted on treating slaves kindly, stating that the ones you walked over in life would drag you down to Hades when you died. Weak, gutless fool. Trog-Gob was of the opinion that the strong ruled, and the weak served... and that the weak were prey to the whims of the strong. Don't hate the player, hate the game, and hate the fact that the game put you in the role of 'bitch', rather than 'butcher'. This was Trog-Gob's view of the world, and The Festival was the ultimate celebration of it.
Last year, during the first official Festival, Trog-Gob had gathered like-minded nobility from across Tambelon, and they had engaged in... games. Games like 'Whip A Mare To Death In Front Of Her Family', or 'Strip The Flesh', followed immediately by an entertaining round of 'Salt the wound'. Always a party favorite.
Regrettably, during that last Festival, Trog-Gob had nearly run out of expendable slaves before the event had reached a half-way point, going though all one hundred in six hours, and having to make the last remaining slave's death a slow, lingering affair that took eight hours. Fun, but after a time, it was almost like beating a dead horse in more ways than one. This time, he had gathered a total of three hundred fresh slaves, and with noon approaching, they were already half-way through the supply... and he couldn't possibly be happier. His guests had paid good money for this entertainment, more than enough to recoup his losses a dozen times over. Enough that he might even go for five hundred slaves, next time.
As the latest victim was dragged into the room, Trog-Gob got to see his favorite sight. The stallion looked about the room, seeing the dozens of richly dressed Trogs seated about the chamber, looking on with interest. He saw the blood on the floor, walls and ceiling. He saw the implements of torture on the rack beside the table. He saw the manacles on the table. And finally, he saw Trog-Gob, stripped to the waist, and a long, cruel blade clutched in one hand, and the stallion knew, without a doubt, that not only was he going to die, but die by inches. Long, slow, miserable inches.
The stallion let out a long, despairing wail, one that set Trog-Gob's loins astirring, and the Trog began to laugh heartily as his guards began putting the pony into his place with the ease of long practice. Life was good, and he was certain that they would remain that way forever.
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NEW CHAPTER UP!!!
I feel sorry for Bray now.
A lovely twist in the tail it seems, but a fun update.
I have to say, im not a fan of the new front cover.
Welp. Not even sure what to think about the LOL SUDDENLY ALICORN part, but I remain amused.
Well. Not quite amused once I got to Trog-Gob and his less than socially acceptable leanings and ideas of what constitutes fun.
I sincerely hope the Overgoat will show him the true meaning of pain. Possibly by forcing him to watch every episode of Teletubbies. In a row. With his eyes forced open so he can't miss even a second of it. Maybe with some Barney thrown in for good measure.
To start with, anyway.
I expect much wailing and teeth gnashing.
Dude just makes an Alicorn like it ain't shit.
OP Plz nerf...
...after he fucks up Trog-Gob.
are the deaths going to be ironic
Yes, his life will remain good forever, totally, absolutadoodley.
But seriously, is this going to to be one of those 'Death by Irony' deals.
7104560
Agreed. This new one feels tackier.
Just how many ponies are there if they can be wasted in such numbers?
7104578
Most likely. I expect not-Grogar is going to force his cohorts to do to him what he's been doing to slaves.
Alicorns for everyone!
Ok...ascension via orgasm...new and frankly I approve! To see our Overgoat has that kind of power, and moreover he's beginning to awaken to the fact that furry is fine for one's fetishes...to say nothing of his on-the-spot reason for having an Alicorn in his ranks, we can now look forward to a good party crashing...with the attendees being slow-roasted after a proper maiming i hope!
Well done and looking forward to more!!
Wow, i can hardly wait to see what our glorious Overgoat will do to the wretched piece of flesh that is Trog-Gob once he finds out what he's been up to, i do so hope it will be immensly painful and will take a VERY long time to carry out.
oh dang. this just got a little extreme.
The scariest thing about Trog-Gob ´s philosophy and crimes is how "human" they are: you only need to convince yourself and the rest of your privileged group there is nothing wrong about torturing, maiming and killing the weak ones for fun... and you may end with the kind of society the Marquis de Sade would have love living it.
Whoa......I'll admit. Really did not see that coming. Insta-alicorn. Just add pancakes and magic.
Now that's a typo I haven't seen before.
Well, we do know that alicorns + pancakes are an adorable combination.
You think she got her moment of YouTube Dimensional Glory and just missed it during the divine orgasms?
Well this got too dark and gory for me. I liked where it was going, especially with the whole "I accidentally a goddess" thing, but now it got too graphic. I can't handle that.
Calling it: Overgoat's Alicorn Maid seduces The Princesses.
And the Irony of Honey given full vengeance now that she's a alicorn will be deliciously ironic, especially since trog-a-bog gets off on torture.
I got the popcorn!
It it seem that not all Trog's are or rather where bad, but it is clear that the slaves ponies, obviously are seen as little more then animals. I wander what will Grogar do with the Trog's and Ponies once he take over the place again will be at the head of a pony uprising or will he force the Trogs to be at equal standing with the ponies as Grogar's vassals. Obviously the Trog's won't be happy about the ponies getting some rights and the Ponies will probably be out for the blood of their oppressors once they get the tastes of freedom. Also, I was wandering if all the slave born in Tombelum are Earth Ponies and I wander if the magic of the place prevents them to have cutie marks or prevent any magic withing them?
So you're telling me that loud and sensual moaning is not a normal thing to do while eating good food?
Holy shit have I been making family brunches awkward.
So wails of despair turns on Trog-Gob.... I wonder if he'll orgasm while the Overgoat is ... Working on him.
... I'm not sure whether I would love or hate you if you did that
That's kind of a cruel cliffhanger.
7104615
Well, it's really the other way round, orgasm via ascension.
7104573 No. It is fine the way it is. It is Bucking Nonsense's story and he can tell it how he wants. Sudden jarring shifts in story or what not that happen in the last chapter of a story are fine to voice disagreement to, but not stuff literally at the beginning of a tale.
Just remember, it is folks who "demand" he change this or that to suit their selfish whims are the reason why "I Will Save and/or Destroy Equestia" is on hiatus and "What's Your Story, Morning Glory" got canceled.
On another note, at the time of this post the current up vote numbers are 666!
oi67.tinypic.com/ftn5md.jpg ((Apologies that the pic isn't all that great in quality)).
*Tosses up "The Goat" hand sign!*
Fantastic chapter. Great job.
7104752
I'm amazed you took that seriously.
If I really thought he should change his story, I wouldn't be going "OP plz Nerf". I'd actually type something out.
While I realize sarcasm and jokes can be hard to tell over the internet without vocal infliction, not being able to tell what I wrote as a joke is concerning.
You know, if he offered vast power and immortality to everything provided they serve him he would end up with a very large number of loyal followers...
7104811
Nice try with the deflection, but seeing as I am not the only one to think you were being serious, perhaps next time either denote you're being sarcastic or just come up with a different joke. After all, trolls and Internet wet blankets who are known for saying such things as "OP Plz nerf" (with the obligatory horrendous spelling) have been serious about such things. So serious, in fact, it caused Bucking Nonesense to put stories on hiatus or flat out cancel them as well as nearly seriously consider quitting FimFicition altogether.
begin the alicorn harem-army. Princesses, prepare thy anuses. The only lube you get is Honey Butter's namesake.
7104854 Not a deflection its the truth. Not my fault three people took it way to serious and need such a blatant small joke spelled out for them. White knighting way too hard there bro.
Last comment I'm making on this here cause I really like to avoid any drama in comment sections anymore for stories.
I know you have a habit of dropping stories , and that's OK, you do you. BUT, god help you if you will drop this before Trog-Gob gets what's coming for him.......
7104688 The story is labled with a Dark tag, so you knew that much before you even clicked the link for the first chapter.
Though it is not too gory... or rather, your imagination filled in the missing details of gore. There was nothing too explicitly mentioned, mostly just broad or vague descriptions. It's a technique that authors, artist and directors use as the human mind can be FAR more vivid with such things when only given the bare minimum to work with. A prime example is the original Texas Chainsaw Massecre movie... while the house the teenagers were trapped in with the killers had rooms with buckets full of fresh--or walls with stained on dried--blood (and one of the actresses had her finger really cut), there is very little blood elsewhere in the flick with a scant few scenes of violence on screen with NO dismemberment anywhere to be seen in the movie (sadly the same can not be said for subsequent sequels or reboots). Heck, had TCM came out in 1984 instead of 1974, the amount of blood and violence would've had it labled as a PG-13 movie instead of an R rated one.
7104751
...why must you ruin my dreams? Seriously, before we got Candence's back-story my head-cannon had her ascension tied to "true love's" first kiss and subsequent nookie to getting that horn and wing combo!! LET ME HAVE THIS PLEASE!!!
...in other news, I've nearly ended a playthrough of BloodBorne and can safely say the minds who came up with it are scary as they are brilliant. Then again, never seen so many eyeballs and such in one game before, so hard to say. Anyway, take care folks and PRAISE THE OVERGOAT!! PRAISE HIM I SAY!!
I want to see that stallion rescued.
also I want to see The Overgoat, Brey, and Honey Butter...
KILL THAT WORTHLESS EXCUSE FOR A LIVING BEING AS SLOWLY, AND PAINFULLY, AS POSSIBLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!111111111111111ONE
Aaaaaand there's the borderlands reference
7105076 I powdered my cockateil for the ribcage slaughter!
Oh, also, delightful chapter. While Honey Butter, as a newly minted alicorn, might be able to destroy Grogar, she has negative reasons to. Not zero reasons, negative reasons. I love it. Practical Evil is best Evil!
Those must have been some awesome (literally, in this case) pancakes!
I look forward to seeing the son-of-a- well, I wouldn't want to insult bitches, whatever derogatory term you wish to use for Trog-Gob getting his comeuppance.
The rest of Trog-Gob's life will be grand and full of torture indeed.
7105220 heh good one
7105220 yes...his own
7105220 oh i like you
7105048
how about instead of them killing him, you give him to me
I will personally make sure he get fucked up in ways you wouldn't dream of, ways that would make people feel an extreme compulsion to save him even after knowing what he's done, from the cold hearted to the pope himself
yes, even you
If i'm lucky my brother will help and make the torture even more gruesome, that the devil himself will want to save him
it'd be a nice bonding activity for us to do
Just can resist...
.
relatably.com/m/img/oprah-memes-tumblr/08f.jpg
Looking forward to the Equestrian Princess' reactions to an alicorn-maid battle harem
Ok, if there was any way that our main character could cause the princesses to move from worry to full on panic, this would be it. To put it into perspective, Grogar has demonstrated that he has the ability to cause a pony to ascend to being alicorn at will, and potentially, without said pony having any choice in the matter. Now, as for why this is a gamechanger, two alicorns were able to obliterate all the Evils aside from Grogar. Now, imagine what an army of alicorns could do, not even taking into account Grogar's personal power.
Here's the problem with a "the strong rule and the weak are prey" philosophy: When someone comes along who's more powerful than you and treats you as the prey, you are forced to accept the irony that you were killed by someone following the same rules you follow.