The Strings of Her Body.
Dank and musty. An aroma of old dust, and possibly a few cobwebs, hung in the air; mixing with the smell of cheap perfume. I could almost taste it, nearly coughing a few times. I was in a basement, listening to a mare ramble on, long past the point of our discussion. Her voice, once pleasant and feminine, became bland and boring. Her mint green mane and coat became stale as I began to understand the mare underneath. Her golden eyes shimmered with absolute delight, but I had already begun to lose interest. I came to this mare for my own reasons, but she had put me out of the mood. As she prepared to continue, I decided enough was enough. My purposes could wait until I fixed it. After all, if this is the report I will be basing my book around, I might as well right her biography.
“Miss Lyra. may I interrupt you for a moment?” Drawn out of her near sermon, she blushed, hiding her face.
“Sorry, I guess I got carried away.” She rubbed the back of her head with a hoof while sporting a goofy grin. She certainly seemed like any ordinary mare, but if you saw her sitting there, you’d understand exactly how odd she can be. She doesn’t sit like most ponies. She sits with her back straight and upright in the chair instead of leaning forward on her front hooves. Her hind hooves also look awkward, going over the front edge of her seat, almost reaching the ground, instead of sitting underneath her body, giving her a very odd sitting behavior. It interested me to find out she studied ‘anthropology’, a science that studies the mythological creature ‘human’.
“Indeed. At first you actually had me, but you need to be more, professional for an interview like this. you will have to give the same thing to any group you wish to prove your point to after all, and when I submit my book, I have a few papers that I will need to site and compare to those you wrote. Sadly, your papers are far from professional. This is a somewhat formal event and I want this to be taken seriously, unlike how I have felt things have been here.”
“You think that is why they don’t take me seriously?” she seemed genuinely confused. Certainly quite a few scientific authorities wouldn’t believe them myth, but sometimes truth is stranger than fiction.
“It certainly adds to your lack of credibility, but there are a few other things to deal with. I understand your passion drives you forward, but there is a limit. Add to that this is our first face-to-face and we get to the point where I honestly just stop paying attention. It is like getting punched in the face with words, and all I am doing is writing a book about what you tell me and the stuff I research aside from that. There are things past expeditions I have researched that could help, but you are the main individual I am using since you are knowledgeable, recognized by the Anthropoligist community, and relatively close-by. However, you show me things and talk to me in a very casual way, as if I was a friend in your community. Honestly, you also use terms I simply do not fully understand, and because of your refusal to stop, I became lost. Not to mention the environment you set up for this is not exactly nice. The artifacts you showed me are dirty, and frankly it makes me doubt your own enthusiasm which, for how you are doing this, is the last thing you want.”
“B-but if I clean them, the history of their dirt-”
“It could literally be any dirt, including whatever dirt has been created since the artifact was in here. It is the artifact itself that gives most of the knowledge about something, so please, clean them up. As they are, it could be fake and you’re hiding the fact with dirt. Of course they may call in another Anthropologist to substantiate your claim, but that doesn’t mean they also won’t just immediately discount you as well. It does happen on occasion.”
“O-oh. I see.” Crestfallen, she looked at one of her vases. It appeared old, but as I had said it could have been faked rather easily. Primitive pottery can easily be faked by those with time on their hooves after all. Having inspected them first hoof, I can tell some of this wasn’t done by any unicorn, the lines are nice, but not that nice, and the skill involved meant it also wasn’t done by a hoof, it was too good for that.
“It seems to me, that we have plenty to work on before I can make a book that will hold any weight, and after my book is out you need to understand what others will look at you with. The scientists you are trying to persuade will go into this, if they are doing This professionally, with an open mind. But, if you seem unprofessional and unprepared,; or worse, you seem to be faking, you will lose all credibility. They will have , at least in their minds, reasons to doubt you. The more you feed that suspicion, even if you can prove how real the artifacts, like the vase, are, it can still leave an impression. If they think subconsciously they should be suspicious, their word choice will change, and that could cause further problems for your side of the story.”
“Don’t they study things covered in dirt at museums?”
“They do, but that is because the objects are fragile most of the time. If you want, ask a museum to help validate your claim and get a paper from them as well. You are licensed, and therefore are trusted to be able to identify things, but having a third party say something is valid as well could help improve your image to them. Back to the main problem of what you are asking,” I levitate the object carefully into her view, showing her a very large dirt patch on one side, though from its weight I suspect something more than dirt also lies within. “why is an entire image, or possibly multiple images, still covered? It seems odd that for one, I didn’t notice it, and two, that someone who wants knowledge would deprive themselves of it unless something isn’t exactly up to par. For all we know, there could be a picture of a pony and human together in the dirt.” She seems to finally realize she has a lot of things she needs to work on. She fidgets in her chair a little before looking back at me sheepishly.
“I guess I should sit properly too, shouldn’t I?” You could almost hear the tears in her eyes. I wasn’t trying to be a monster about this, so it actually hurt a bit.
“Actually sitting how you feel comfortable is probably for the best.” Her constant emotional landslide since we started took a one-eighty as she heard the words. “For you, if you sat normally you would probably fidget a lot and feel uncomfortable. This leads to the feeling you are lying and could discredit you in their eyes, making them more prejudice than if you sat how you are used to. It would be ideal for you to sit formally or to not sit at all if given the chance, but in the scenario I believe will happen, you should be, okay.”
“I understand. I guess I have let things get a bit out of hoof here. I will clean this up, remove some of the dirt off the artifact carefully, and invite you back for a more,.professional, meeting.” As I got off of my seat, a large couch she kept down there incase she had guests, I stretched my back, enjoying the feeling of the cracking of my legs after sitting around for the past few hours.
“Alright then. Let me know when you are ready and I will come down here again.”
“Is it alright if we meet in the basement again? I try to limit my anthropology stuff to one room so I don’t look like a maniac.”
“That is fine. This is something that definitely is in the right step anyway. You know where to reach me, correct?”
“At your office during the day, and after six you are at home, except the weekends where you are off unless of scheduling.”
“Correct.” I get off the couch Lyra brought down for me as she gets out of her chair. I still can’t wrap my mind how she gets in and out of that chair so easily with how she sits, or even how it is comfortable to sit on your spine that way. Regardless, I have a plan, and I need her to be comfortable with me first. After all, if I have to knock her down to get what I want, I won’t exactly get to keep it so easily. As Lyra ushers me out of her home, I belatedly realize I don’t know what it looks like. After some light farewells, she closes the door, and leaves. Noticing nopony around, I quickly aim a spell at the door and release it. It seeps in, coating her house in a reactive spell that would be impossible for your average pony to detect. Happy with my work, I turn around and head home. This was a good first day.
***
Tuesday, three days since the meeting with Lyra, and I was bored. My patients apparently loved their Tuesdays, none scheduled for the entire day, as usual I sat in my office, watching my executive ball clicker go. I had done most of my work and as for my plans with Lyra, she would be in my hoof… eventually. Again I looked around the room, seeing if there is anything else to do while I waited for my shift to end.
My workspace is rather large, encompassing almost half the building I purchased, the rest being used as a sort of waiting room so to speak. In one corner of the room is a red couch, a gift from one of Ponyville’s most eligible bachelorettes out of sheer generosity when I invited her in one day to take a look. She quickly took a look around and decided to help me make the place more inviting, suggesting various curtains and placements. She virtually designed the entire building’s ascetics by herself. If I didn’t have my talent, I may have suspected something, but she was genuinely being a very nice mare. It convinced me to pay for her to make her thoughts reality and it certainly made a big difference. If it weren’t for that mare, I dread to think how this office would look.
Next to the couch was a large bookshelf, taking up most of the rest of the wall, and another bookshelf was next to my desk, which was opposite the couch. In the center of the room, between the desk and couch, were some chairs, and a table. Some prefered talking that way, and for non patients it was far more suited to the situation. I always had a candle going, and had several other means of scenting or unscenting the room. And I made sure to change the color scheme of the walls, paintings, and curtains every season to keep things nicer for my guests.
*knock* *knock* *knock*
I perked up at the sound,. Somepony actually came. I quickly felt a rush of adrenaline at the prospect of having something to do during the admittedly long time between my last appointment and the end of my work day. I quickly bound out of my chair and headed for the door. As I reached it, I stopped for a moment, using my magic to make things look as professional as possible. I may have found a solution to my boredom, but that didn’t mean I was not a professional. After a quick run through, I opened the door, to a pair of glasses with purple lenses.
“Boo!”
“Ah!” In a flash of white, she was inside, laughing at my jump as her neon-blue mane bounced with her entire being. I absent-mindedly look at her black double note cutie mark on her pure white flank before returning my gaze to her deep red eyes, now uncovered as she brushed away tears from her laughter. “Don’t do that to me Vinyl!”
“Psh. What is the point of being friends if I can’t make you scream every once in a while?” She invited herself in and closed the door as I got back up.
“So, is this business, or pleasure?” Her happy gaite stopped as she turns around.
“Business. I have a meeting with Prince Blueblood to display my talent to him and his guests at a party soon, and I need a little help.” Unlike her normal carefree attitude, she was sullen, almost depressed. For a long time she hadn’t exactly done well with stallions, preferring to back away or when she couldn’t for some reason, she would quiver and sweat quite a bit. I am certain that she has wet herself on one occasion as well, though he did come on a little strong even for a normal mare. She was the reason I specialized in long-term trauma therapy to begin with, and a meeting with a chauvinistic, ‘personality’ like Blueblood, with his dislike for commoners, was just the perfect fuel for that fire.
“I see, well, that doesn’t mean this can’t be pleasurable as well. How have you been since you left Hayburg High? We haven’t seen eachother since the after party for the graduation when you played those sick beats.” As we entered my office, I closed the door, turning the sign out front so that the door read ‘Busy’ on the other side.
“Well, I obviously still have my problem from, ‘that’, but beyond that things haven’t been so bad. I own a nightclub in Canterlot, though I employ mostly mares for obvious reasons. I have my own home, and I got a marefriend.”
“Well that sounds like you are on the right track with your life. Tell me, what is her name?”
“Melody.” Her mind raced, her body moving back, eyes going to the upper right. For a brief moment, her face held a look of fear. Even without my training, I knew she was lying,. But I know Vinyl, she doesn’t lie without reason, so I drop it. I likely wouldn’t know her anyway. For a brief moment, I wondered if I should give her a little something to calm her nerves. Now that I have had a moment, she seems to be rather, unsettled. More so than usual considering our physical distance apart. I think about my music and drop it when I realize most of it is classical, her least favorite musical genre. She probably wouldn’t be interested in hearing most of it. Especially my cherished cello solo records.
“Nice name. I guess the two of you have music in common, though I suspect she isn’t into dubstep.”
“Heh, you could definitely say that.” We argued a little about it, but besides that she likes a lot of the same music as me. It is, nice, to be able to just talk with her and know she will speak her mind honestly. She can read me like a book. She offered to come with me, but I convinced her not to. Her job doesn’t exactly give her much time off around this time of year.”
“Yeah, it can be a pain. How did you know I was here by the way? I haven’t had your contact information for a while and never told you I moved to Ponyville.”
“Oh, a friend of my marefriend mentioned that a ‘Time Written’ took over the Ponyville Mental Health Clinic and after a little research I found you were my friend from back in school. I would have visited you after that, but I only found out a few days ago and before I could get a plan together, well, you can see what happened.”
“You decided to see your friend who wanted to become a psychologist and just so happened to need a psychologist yourself. Kind of an unusual coincidence, but let’s get down to business, shall we?” With a puzzled look in her eyes, Vinyl laid down on the couch, fully ready to tackle the problem that has plagued her for so long. I don’t expect success, I expect progress.
“This is fine, right?” With a nod, she confirms that this distance is just fine, though I worry that this may fail. Except for family and a few close friends, not many stallions could get close to her physically. If I was one of them, well, this could be even harder than expected. “Alright then. Now then, I am going to approach you. If you feel uncomfortable at all, let me know.” As I walked towards her, I remember the day she got her phobia. She was crying in the middle of a group of stallions, guards and concerned adults trying to placate her. When I approached, the guards tried to turn me away, but she didn’t let me get far. Tears streaming down her eyes, she held onto me. Begging me to stay by her side for the moment. I ended up staying the night with her so she could sleep. In the days that followed I found out the truth, and I am honestly surprised she likes me at all. After all, it was my father that-
“Well, seems I still don’t react to you.” Shit.
“I am right next to you on this couch, and you don’t react at all. I am not going to be a great help for this part of it.” As I got up, I once again felt my eyes scan her. She was a looker in highschool, but that was nothing compared to now. She went from an attractive, skinny filly, to a very attractive, and perfectly full, mare in the span of a few years. Then, I noticed she is was fearful, looking at something odd. When I try to follow her gaze, I realize she is subtly pushing me off. It seems I nearly popped out of my sheath admiring her beauty.
“Oh my. How embarrassing, sorry!” I quickly leave her side, finding a place to sit and hide ‘myself’ so that she can calm down. I leave most of the room between us and make sure the door is opposite me so as to assure her she can leave and that no harm will come to her. This is not exactly ‘professional’, but Vinyl was once known for getting a kick out of this.
“I-it’s fine. I know you wouldn’t, touch me, like that without permission. But it still freaked me out.”
“I see, so your androphobia is centered around stallion, ‘equipment’, at least as it pertains to me. That makes things a little, more awkward honestly. I can try to help you socialize for the rest of my shift, but beyond that I don’t know how much more I can do for you beyond some rather, odd methods.”
“T-that’s fine. I so long as I can do this job without hurting my host, I am fine.”
“Speaking of your host, be careful around Blueblood. I hear he doesn’t exactly like ‘commoners’ and is not a fan of those who try and work their way up. He usually ends up trying to use them and then spreads slander about them. It seems odd he would invite you to a party, so I suggest making sure your marefriend is safe and that you have an escape route.”
“W-why her?”
“If I had to guess, she is not exactly a ‘commoner’. I also expect your marefriend is somepony whose name is, not exactly unheard of.”
“You are good at this. Guess that makes two of you that can read me like a book. I still don’t want to say her name, but what do you suggest?”
“Tell her if something happens, come to Ponyville and see me. I, or Rarity of the Carousel Boutique will help you two out. For future reference, Rarity has had, dealings, with Blueblood before and she can help if I can’t. The only reason I say me first is my experience with you. If she can’t find us, I will write down our addresses and she can let herself in.”
“You are being awfully trustful of me and my marefriend.” Suspicion, the killer of all good friendships and otherwise nice things.
‘That is because I have seen your memories and you wouldn’t lie to me. ’
“I want to trust my friend and the mare she loves.”
‘Not to mention you keep thinking about her amazing plot so hard I can barely block out her image.’
“Thanks Writ, it means a lot. I’ll deliver the message when I get back tomorrow. You got a place I can crash at?” Her smile turns into a bashful one. Like always, she doesn’t think very far ahead.
“Well, you can ’crash’ at my place tonight if that is fine with you. It isn’t extensively big, but it is still a three bedroom house.” Looking at the clock, I realize I am doing rather well on time. “And I am off the clock soon, so we can head there now if you want.”
“Cool! Let’s get going Writ!” With a smug smile, Vinyl headed out of the room. I made sure everything was in order, and that the entire place was locked down as I left. Once I knew everything was in its proper place, I headed out the door and ran into, of all mares, Lyra.”
“Hey Writ. I was hoping to run into you before you left!” She was certainly pleased with herself if her grin said anything. “I fixed up everything about my research and was hoping you could come by on Sunday at around seven to go over it again for your book.”
“I have nothing planned for Sunday at that time,. Sure thing.” I used my magic and locked the door behind me. Though, I did more then just cast a spell to lock my office. A little something on Lyra too. Might as well make things easier in the future.
“Great! See you then! I can’t wait to teach the world about ‘humans’!” Seemingly oblivious to Vinyl, she stormed off, my spell starting its magic in her mind. I know it won’t work too well right now, but with a little push-
“Who was that Writ?”
“Oh, that was Lyra, an Anthropologist that I decided to write a book with. And yes, it is about ‘humans’.”
“You sure she isn’t special to you at all?”
”Honestly, no. She has a great figure, but a lot of mares got a great figure. I know a relationship between us will sink rather quickly. Especially considering she is a homosexual.”
“She’s gay too?”
“For the last time Vinyl, you are clearly a bisexual with androphobia.”
“Can’t exactly like what you fear!”
“Didn’t stop you on hitting on me back in high school.” She blushed vividly as we walked to my home.
“I didn’t know myself then. I don’t like stallions that way.”
“Sure you don’t Vinyl, sure you don’t.” She obviously liked stallions that way, but her fear covered it up. Not that it mattered, she didn’t exactly have an easy path to any stallion that way so long as she had a marefriend. At least, without finding a scumbag like me.
***
Sunday at seven couldn’t come soon enough. As I waited outside her home, I found myself staring at her house.: two stories, yellow, with a straw roof. It was rather, decent, for a mare living off of a park lyrists’ salary. There is no way she expects everypony to believe she bought this on just that. It may pay decently and give her a little discount from working for the city, but with all she spends on ‘human’ artifacts, she can’t possibly believe this will work forever. And with my preparations, this should be fun though, at least for me.
“Hey Writ! Welcome back.” She put on her best grin as I turned around and saw Lyra, carrying groceries from the tail end of her farmer’s market sale run.
“Well I am really interested in writing this book, so I made sure to be here a little early.” She grinned sheepishly as she brought a hoof behind her head.
“Yeah, sorry about how long it took me to get here. Lots of ponies in the market with good deals today. Come on inside!” With a cheerful smile she walked inside, and I got a good look at her house. She really didn’t seem to have any major human artifacts just out and about her home, and it actually looked like just a normal home. It seemed she was honest when she said she wasn’t crazy. Then again, I hadn’t seen her room.
“You must like the color blue.” She entered her kitchen, and I followed after her.
“Yeah, blue is one of my favorite colors. In fact, my room is also mostly blue, though I have a variety elsewhere.” She packed up her groceries, light discussion continuing until we headed to the basement. Casting a glance back, I made sure the front door was locked and then I followed her downstairs. A swish of her tail lets me see something far more personal than I expected, so I looked away out of habit. A courtesy I would need for now. I would be getting a far better look in a little while anyway. Once in the basement, we resume the familiar roles of doctor and patient. Though she sat on the chair, while I took the couch. Everything certainly seemed different. The musty smell replaced by that of a disinfectant, and certainly not an unpleasant one at that. No question she cleaned. The walls looked to be freshly painted, and the couch felt cleaner than last time. It was almost refreshing to be in the environment. And as we began, I acted the part of the ‘researching author.’
***
“Alright, so that’s your theory and hypothesis on the ‘human’ myth, as well as a few pieces of evidence that, should the rest of this sound convincing enough, the scientific community will be wanting to see. Your research certainly is much better along and I will be certain to get this to the community for review quickly so the book can be made.”
“That’s good, but I still don’t like the idea of these photos and notes being the only sources.”
“Well, I wouldn’t worry about it too much. You have more stuff that you simply can’t transport so you have that backing you up. As for the future, although this certainly won’t be a very big book, it should increase the interest in the scientific community. After that, plenty of others could easily join in and you can get your studies on the fast track to new discoveries.”
“Thanks again for everything Writ!”
“No problem, Harpie.” Lyra stands stock still. Pupils turning into pinpricks among seas of gold as she looks at me. She doesn’t scream, she doesn’t shout, she merely stares. She doesn’t even try to use her magic as she swallows hard, clearly frightened by the name and the knowledge it could bring.
“H-how do you know that name?”
“I did my research on you. Can’t say I liked what I found.”
“You can never tell anypony.” Her words were rather hostile, a toss-up between a threat, and a bluff. I wasn’t entirely sure which side it landed on, and I figured she didn’t know either.
“Tell them what? The mare who plays the lyre peacefully in the park used to lure unsuspecting mares and fillies into gang bangs and then selling them off to the illegal Saddle Arabian Sex Trade?”
“I didn’t have a choice! They were either going to do it through me, or to me!”
“You got a lot of money for doing something you were forced to do.”
“I was preparing to get out of that town, to get away from the traders, and then go to the guard!”
“So why did you run away when the guard showed up?”
“Why would they believe me?”
“It’s not like the guard would have evidence that an individual named, ‘Harpie’, approached them first or anything, right?”
Lyra stopped dead in her thoughts, and began to take on a more aggressive posture, horn flaring with magic as she prepared for some course of action. Her muscles tensed as she prepared to strike at me, either to kill, or otherwise seriously injure me. I quickly decided I couldn’t wait to take action, and that I needed to take her down quickly, before she took me out. Doing my best to seem calm, I continue the conversation.
“Do you think I’d be unprepared?”
“I can at least silence you.”
“So you go from sixty years to life, or even execution.”
“If I silence you, no pony will know.”
“I told you, I came prepared. I have things set up so that, in the case of my death, all the evidence I gathered to prove you are ‘Harpie’ will be sent to the local guard. After that, hiding will become a lot harder in all parts of the world. If you could even escape here that is.” She stopped once again, her confidence gone. My spell from before was finally taking effect as her mental strength waned. She considered her options before sulking, realizing I had trapped her with her past. Any ways around it blocked from her mind by my spell.
“That isn’t me anymore. I haven’t done that since I left! I am a new mare, and I even fell in love! Please, just forget about this.”
‘Checkmate.’ It didn’t sound like me, but I paid it no mind, I had another matter to worry about.
“You just threatened to kill me.” She shrinks away before me, trying to be as nonthreatening as possible. “And as for your new life, I wouldn’t worry about it right now.”
“W-what?” Her pupils once again turn to pinpricks as a multitude of thoughts flash through her head. “I’ll do anything to get out of this. Just please, don’t tell anypony or kill me, please.” She began to cry and I felt myself smile. It felt odd to smile at a crying mare, but a part of me savored the power I was gaining over her.
“Become my toy.” She looks up at me, shocked that I would say such a thing.
“What?”
“Become my toy. Bend to my will and whims. You made all those other mares and even some fillies do it, why not fall prey yourself and understand their pain?” She opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water. She tried again and again to rebuke, but thanks to my spell and words, she thought I had all the cards and she was out of options.
“Alright, I agree.” As her spirit broke, she seemed absolutely pathetic. Her shoulders slumped, her eyes watered, and she lowered her head in shame. I watched her head glow with my magic, signaling that, mentally, she was mine. The spell was designed to influence a weakened mind, and this one worked perfectly. It guided her thoughts and actions to exactly what I wanted, and would keep her from realizing for now that I was already casting another spell on her. This one, targeting her now crumbled mind, making her subservient. It was outlawed a thousand years when it made civil servants of the Crystal Empire willing to basically be slaves, but thanks to the fact that it was once so prevalent, I was able to find a few books on it. I knew far more spells of a same nature, but some had, side effects I wasn’t yet willing to risk. Others, with more tame side effects, would be just too far for my current wants.
“Well then Lyra, why don’t we start like all of the poor mares you took- With a nice load down your throat.” She dropped all pretense of resistance. She just slowly walked to me, hips swaying a bit more than she probably would have wanted. I still couldn’t use the stronger spells that were mentioned, but there was no need for them just yet.
“C-can I just, you know. Stop at a blowjob? I want to save myself for... my current crush.”
“At least you know it is a crush Lyra. Very good. You do realize how big a hole you would dig yourself in with her, right? She is normally quite calm and pleasant, but she hates lesbians. She can barely stand bisexuals.” True, that mare was normally rather nice, but a few mares and stallions already had to move after she was done with them. Lyra just had enough history in Ponyville to save herself from the same fate.
“However, I could change her mind for you,” I stated. She gained a defiant eye, seemed I misjudged her a little. As she prepared to fight back again, I intercept her. “You should know better. What can you alone do? The first thing you did when you met her was drone on and on about humans and the fetishes some ponies have about them.” Stock still, I was right on target.
“How do you-”
“She talked about it rather openly. She would have accepted you liking humans, but to like humans and mares? She wanted you thrown out of town. If it weren’t for the fact that she had no legal right to do so, you would probably be gone.” Lyra tried to deny it, but knew she couldn’t. These weren’t rumors, they were well announced facts. She merely sobbed quietly as she began to rub me with her forehooves. She gave up. This is when I watched my spell flow through her entire body, cementing itself inside her mind as she accepted her place on her own. Good practice for later.
“Seems to me you’re enjoying this.”
She glared at me, but the combination of the growing smell of mare, and the wet patch beneath her told me all I needed to know. My spell was to blame of course, but for now, I could taunt her as I pleased. She decided to get it over with quickly after that, opening her mouth and devouring me. She probably thought about biting me clean off, but decided against it before the protective component of the spell took effect. As her mouth closed, warmth and wetness flooded my senses. The world disappeared, my shaft and the sounds she made became all that I could feel and hear. It sounded like she was enjoying it, but that could have just been my imagination. In the next moment, the sounds faded from my conscious mind as she began to pleasure me in earnest.
It was, heavenly. I certainly never felt this before, blanketing me in a warm, wet feeling. And when she used her tongue, I unconsciously bucked into her mouth a bit. This caused her to cough a little, but I knew she wasn’t in any real danger. As she recovered she decided to really show me what she could do. She pushed forward, her tongue a cushion as my member proceeded to the back of her throat. Taking the feeling from before and amplifying it; squeezing down as she continuously swallowed.
The feelings I was unaccustomed to quickly brought me over the edge, forcing me to copulate with her uvula. She continued to swallow, and before she could even pull back, the stimulation preparing me for the next round. She looked horrified as she pulled back, bringing my flopping erection back into view. She tried to say something, but when she saw my waiting gaze, she slumped, tears flowing freely down her face as she turned around, and moved her tail. It was, not quite the sight I had expected. She seemed pristine from stallions, bringing into question her previous show of skill. Then the smell hit me. The smell of a waiting mare.
My mind blanked for a moment as I closed in and took a quick sniff, followed by a lick. I tasted salty, with a hint of strawberries. That was all I could handle before instinct kicked in. Without much pretense, I lined myself up and pushed in. Lyra, didn’t wait. With one swift motion and a groan, she forced me deep. I felt like I had reached her deepest recesses, but then I pushed further, through her hymen. Surprisingly, unbroken. She probably wanted to hide the embarrassing fact that she never went that far with toys before.
“So, you really were a virgin. Congratulations on finally being a full grown mare, everywhere.” She growled, and began to push back into me. Her tight walls like a vice, trying to crush me with their rhythmic milking. Every inch of my girth was trapped, flooding my senses with pleasure. Again my world became only my shaft inside of her as this continued. She must have really wanted this to be over, as before I could become accustomed to the sensations, she began to buck back at me, pushing in and out as fast as her body could take. Her grunts initially sounded painful, but as time went along, and I started to buck my hips into hers, they turned into moans of pleasure.
After a time, an extreme pressure built up inside me, continuing until I flooded her. Unlike what I expected, Lyra didn’t stop moving. Opening my eyes, I realized she was on the edge too, and soon, that vie became a rippling wave of pleasure that attempted to crush me, and an impressively loud moan. The sensory overload quickly pushed me into releasing round two. I felt a twinge of pain in my softening erection and pulled out. Landing on all fours as I admired a few drops of my seed from her once virgin hole. It was belatedly I realized she was completely at my mercy, her own mind still blanked from the pleasure. But I had everything I needed, her, and my notes.
“Well, I am done here.” A light smile met her features as she flopped to the ground, exhausted from the motions, before being replaced by a neutral expression. Far too tired to even feel angry. Her reaction was probably satisfaction from the spell for serving me unfortunately, so she wasn’t yet completely broken. It made me happy though; the power of the spell and its ingenious way of breaking a pony. Doing what I want gave rewards, and soon she would take those rewards freely. “I will be back sometime in the future, but do be your normal self in public. We don’t want to draw any suspicion.” With that, I grabbed my notes, and went to her front door, after I felt myself ‘pop’ into place, I left, a smile on my face. One mare down, dozens to go.