Short Shorts

by Coranth

194. Umbra.

She was too corrupted, the other ponies had said. Too filled with darkness to ever learn of the magic of friendship. Thus, Queen Umbra - former ruler of the Crystal Empire - had been tossed into the deepest, darkest cell the ponies had... and that cell was already occupied by another. Curled up in a pile of filthy tattered blankets she glared at him menacingly as he regarded her with open curiosity. Dark brown hair done up in a peculiar braid framed a weathered face with hazel eyes, a very small muzz - no, a nose - and lips drawn in a concerned frown. A hand with five fingers - attached to a pink-skinned arm, dusted with a light coating of fur - once raised in greeting, slowly lowered towards his body, which was clothed in some kind of amazing teal robe covered with runic designs; beneath that was some kind of golden-bronze armor.

He was a human. A human! A real, live, living, breathing, honest-to-Celestia human--according to the mythology books within what was once her former library. But this one looked like none she'd ever seen before. Was she dreaming? Hallucinating due to having been down here in this hole for so long? His hazel eyes looked upon her with concern and more than a little worry. Her brilliant green eyes locked with his... and then, a wolfish growl escaping her, she was moving - head forward, gaze seeking, nose questing - toward this human. No unknown force compelled her this time. She simply had to see if he was really there; had to know if he was real or but a fleeting dream...

And then she was there, within touching distance of his hands, one of which was now outstretched, perfectly still. After several agonizing moments, she took a single step forward and pressed her muzzle into his palm. 'Prithee... be'st he real, naught a figment!' Starved down here, desperate for something she couldn't identify, suddenly she couldn't help herself; a little sob escaped her as she was overtaken by something primal and she sniffed him, letting him feel her hot breath against his skin as her brain imprinted his scent - sweat/soft-fabric/steel - for easy identification. Then she lifted her head, looked at him, raised a hoof to touch felt his face his clothes his armor. Sudden nausea overtook her then, and she fell against him, passing out. The last thing she felt before she slipped away were his arms enfolding her as she was lifted from the ground.

Later, Queen Umbra awakened to find herself in a position most undignified for a Queen--but even as she blinked dumbly for a moment and made to move, any protest she might have voiced instantly died... because for the first time since she'd been imprisoned here she was warm; the human was holding her close and she was wrapped up within his seemingly enormous robe and... and... she was being petted, like some common animal, her ebony mane stroked gently as he murmured comforting whispers. Umbra struggled to say something, do something, but the human's hands, his accursed, amazing, soft, and gentle hands kept petting her mane, the gentle tugs stimulating the skin beneath and she whimpered. Soon the human pulled back a bit and she fervently hoped, prayed that she would be set free. But alas, he merely stared into her eyes, his own filled with such sadness, such empathy, such compassion!

Dregs of anger stirred within her - 'How darest he...!' - and, baring her fangs, Queen Umbra snarled! Or... she attempted to. As the human brushed a bit of her mane from the side of her face and cupped her cheek in his hand, however, her anger was all but snuffed dead and the noise that escaped her wasn't a snarl; it was another whimper followed by a sob as she nuzzled, snuffled into him and began to cry, weeping bittersweet tears. A dark part of her mind screamed at her, 'He shouldst not be taking liberties with Our Person! We shouldst pin him to the ground with Our magic, and calleth the wardens!' but then that part withered away as he rubbed his cheek against hers, her cries becoming foal-like as she... she... she... surrendered. Growl becoming rasping-purr she hiccoughed, unable to help but melt into him, her tears endless, her cries like those of a foal who had finally found home. Poor Umbra had been alone for so long, and he was so very warm.

Her nostrils filled with his intoxicating scent, and--oh Tartarus, he was scratching her neck, vigorously, his hands pressing just hard enough to set the skin beneath her charcoal fur tingling with pleasure, each minute of rubs and gentle scritching and quiet murmuring feeling like an hour! Umbra couldn't help herself then; she fed upon him - her race, the Umbrum Unicorns, needing life essence to survive - but she took only what she needed to sustain herself -- at least... she thought she did! The human's life force seemed infinite and, most curious, it seemed to be connected to some deeper well of life not his own; she gasped and whimpered as that life force flowed through her like a mighty river, bringing with it feelings of deepest compassion/empathy/tranquility that not only satisfied the gnawing hunger inside her for the first time ever but also... filled gaps inside her she didn't even know she had, repulsing the more malevolent energies within her even as it replaced them. A distressed noise escaped her, the evil in her fighting, writhing, lashing within her and wounding her internally, trying to stay inside her and keep her corrupted, but ultimately losing, pain making her shudder, close her eyes, and cry into him with great wracking sobs; and he rocked her gently, soothingly even as her wounds were healed! Who was this human who held her? What was he, for he was certainly not ordinary.

... And then, her questions were washed away as one of his hands hand reached out gentle but firm to grasp Umbra just below her shoulders. The skin there moved in fluid and soft motions with his pressure, creeping and stroking around his intrusion. She twitched and writhed, unused to so much sensation but then quickly fell into a state of silent acceptance, her eyes slowly closing under his influence. Barely able to speak - corruption of dark magic having robbed her of her speech long ago - she growled, "M-M-Moooorrrrhh...." her voice carrying just far enough for no one to hear. And oh, did the human ever comply! "David..." he stated softly, clearly, then repeated the name; and she burned it into her mind that she might forever know the name of her... her... what was HERS! A frustrated growl escaped her - it was too difficult to even think! - which then turned into a low, soft moan as her David worked his skills in relaxing the mare, combing through the silky pelt until he reached just above her tail.

Running against the grain of her ebony fur, his fingernails raked downwards and into the sensitive skin. He could feel the prey animal response of such a crawling scratch, twitching muscles just beneath the surface quivering and tensing. “Rrrrg…” Umbra groaned, flexing and working her limbs. Submission washed over her, consuming her body and commanding it to move. Each stroke and scratch and rub drove her mad with delight. Like a spell had been cast over each muscle and joint, the very fiber of her being unwound from the near eternal tension she'd been in. Said tension leaked out of her open mouth, lidded eyes and flaring nostrils. It was clear to her now - though she couldn't put her thoughts into words - that she would never again be the mare she once was. Queen Umbra - no, just Umbra, now - didn't want to be cold any more. She no longer wanted to think hate-filled thoughts, of conquest against Equestria, or of revenge against the princesses. She... could not care less about those things anymore. All Umbra wanted was to be warm, to forever be held within her human's arms, to live with him where he lived, to be with him forever...

"Daaaaaviiiiid... mooooooohhhrrrree..." she growl-sighed, her previous mentality obliterated and turned to sand under his influence. 'Be'est mine King; Be'est mine lover; Be'est mine God... prithee, keepest petting thee...!' she thought, unable to even muster a growl when David began to gently brush the knots and kinks out of her monstrous mane with his fingers. The innumerable little fibers perfectly soft and fragrant - smelling subtly of mellow coffee and fruity lavender - David ran his hands through the gigantic body of black Umbra carried about, his arms sinking up to the elbows when he pushed up to her neck. David petted, massaged, and rubbed her down until she was nothing but a barely conscious puddle on the cell floor. 'Every part of her body is so incredibly soft!' the human marveled. It was true; her neck scrubbed against his palms with downy, pillowy grace. Her shoulders and sides mushed under the slightest pressure, as if his hands were massaging jello instead of mare. Her hips were especially absurd, the meaty, girthy nature of her haunches perfecting a feminine shape. Her tail flicked and covered her genitals from his view, but David could tell she was positively plump below her pelvis. Mushy and squishy cheeks clenched and shook when he scratched dutifully above her dock.

Umbra tried to say something - she didn't know what, perhaps a profession of love - but, “nng…” was all she could choke out in her state of delirium... and then, smiling down at her, David gently turned her about in his arms until her back was against him, setting an arm about her body to hold her as he stroked her belly, caressing and loving and relaxing her underside with seemingly trained grace. Her fur was even thicker there, like the bottom of a fuzzy cat. His fingers could disappear entirely below the carpet of fragrant pony fluff, and her stomach visibly curved around each one of his digits. Her heartbeat was steady against his fingers, pulsing through thick veins and thumping against his palm like the ticking of a clock--and then it slowed as he extracted a brush from his armor, a proper brush and set to work on her mane... David's diligent brushing left Umbra’s curly and full mane smooth and shiny. Billows of fluff had to be literally combed through, but it seemed the human was more than used to this, and his work left an ocean of black around Umbra’s face; then he resumed his petting.

The poor Queen stared helplessly into the ceiling with breath rushing through her snout, her legs grasping onto David's arm when he rubbed particularly low on her tummy, jealousy locking him near her warm, fleshy nipples. Please-touch-mine-teats-please-touch-mine-teats! She pleaded silently, rationalizing that a mare, even a Queen, was allowed to fantasize. She wanted him to touch them, she needed him to give her that last bit of satisfaction. Her carnal, simple, and ancient self wanted to have the full experience a human could give her--and then, a stuttering gasp escaped the insensate Queen as he obliged. Rubbing, kneading, caressing, even gentle pinching--her King did it all--and then, suddenly her eyes snapped open, teeth bared in a snarl as she came hard, mare cum thick and yellow gushing from her sex to splash over her tail and the cell floor; it felt soooo good! A moment later, however, the Queen's face burned pink as a rush of embarrassment hit her; then she burst into tears. And yet... still her King was there. David was there, cleaning her up with a tissue and some water, then rocking her gently as she nuzzlenuzzlenuzzlenuzzlenuzzlenuzzlenuzzlenuzzled him, bawling inconsolably. How low had she sunk? How far had she fallen? Her King, her beloved human, did not care; he just held her close as her cries faded and her tears slowed. Then, there in his arms, she fell asleep.