A Debt Owed
He’s ten minutes late.
You’ve settled down in a chair facing the door with the lights off. You’ve poured yourself a glass of this swill these ponies call cider. You’re comfortable, ready, relaxed. Unfortunately he’s home late, as you suspected he might be, and you’re beginning to get impatient.
Not to worry, you tell yourself. He’ll pay for this later. The thought soothes you.
You creak back in the chair, listening to the wood squeak in protest in the silence of Twilight’s library. She’s away with the princess on business right now, which means you have all the time and space in the world. It’s lucky, and calculated. You probably could have set him up on that date any time, but instead you waited. You waited till the time was just right.
There’s a creak of the door and you hear the knob turn. Your chest tightens a little with the anticipation, with the adrenalin of what you’re about to do. What you’ve been waiting to do.
The door opens.
You smile.
Spike wanders in, unsteady on his feet. There’s a large smear of lipstick on one cheek, and damned if his eyes aren’t nearly heart shaped. He lets out a long sigh as he turns to close the door, and you can see the ease in his stance, the slackness of his limbs. It was a good date, and Rarity has treated him right. Well, at least to his poor little fool standards.
As he turns his back to you, you turn up the lamp next to you. Light floods the room, low and eerie, and Spike spins to face you in surprise.
“How was your date, Spike?” you ask smoothly as you spin the cider in your glass.
He sees it’s you and the panic leaves his eyes. He smiles at you, practically beaming and runs over you where you’re siting.
“It was great!” he almost shouts. “We looked at the stars, we walked by the river, and then she kissed me goodnight! She wants to see me again!”
He places a claw on your knee and a look of complete gratitude sweeps over him.
“Anon, thank you. I never could have done this without you. I mean, I probably could have asked her out, but no way she would have said yes so easy! Maybe I can even be her boyfriend!”
His speech picks up pace as he talks and raises in pitch, till he’s nearly squealing with giddy, puppylove joy. You wait till he’s done, being polite.
“That’s good,” you say calmly.
“Yeah, I can’t wait till I see her again. Really, thanks man, that was a great favor you did for me. Welp, goodnight!”
He turns to walk up the stairs to his little bedroom without another word.
“You were late, you know,” you say.
He pauses and glances over his shoulder.
“Hm? Oh, I guess I was. Sorry about that, hope I didn’t keep you up worrying or anything.”
He again moves for the stairs.
“Spike,” you say, almost in a singsong way.
He stops and turns to face you. He tilts his head, confused maybe by your tone. You wait till you’re sure you have his full attention before you speak again, and when you do you say the words slowly, relishing how they feel in your mouth.
“You owe me.”
He blinks at you.
“Well yeah of course,” he says after a moment’s pause. “I told you before, if you set me up with Rarity, I’d do anything, any favor.”
“And you’re a dragon of your word?”
You linger over this sentence. It's the kicker here, the most important bit, the rope with which you'll let the little dragon hang himself. He doesn't even seem to notice your emphasis.
“Of course,” he says, sounding almost exasperated. “You just let me know when you need something from me and I’ll help you out, I promise.”
You’re silent a moment and he again turns back to go upstairs.
“Spike.”
He stops and looks at you, maybe a little annoyed at your delays.
“I have something for you to do for me,” you say, trying to hide your smile.
“What….now?” The mere concept seems to baffle the little dragon.
“Yes, now.”
He shrugs and comes back over to you.
“Alright, lay it on me,” he says with a warm smile.”
Now you do smile back.
“Well as I see it, I did you a very very big favor right?”
“Right.”
“Well, I miss my home,” you say, continuing to swirl your drink nonchalantly. “And I’d like a little something from there to be here.”
Spike stops smiling and shakes his head slowly.
“Anon, I don’t know if I can get you anything from your world. I mean, it’s all so complicated, but maybe Princess Celestia could-“
“No. This is something you have to do for me.”
He shuts his mouth and you continue in that same calm, cool tone.
“I played this game back in my world. It was pretty good and it had some interesting characters in it, and there was always this one character I wanted to meet.”
You pause, enjoying how rapt he looks at you.
“It was this lizard person, an Argonian maid.”
“Maid?” Spike asks hesitantly. “As in, maiden maid? Or ruffles and duster maid.”
Your smile broadens.
“Both actually,” you say. “And she was a very obedient little thing, very skilled, very helpful. Sort of like you are to Twilight. Haven’t you even dressed as a maid for her?”
Spike blushes all the way back to his spines.
“Well…yeah I guess,” he mumbles.
“Good. Well then you’ll have the experience needed.”
“So wait,” spike says, holding up his little claws. “You want me to be some girl lizard maid and talk to you for a while?”
He looks utterly baffled.
“Not quite,” you say. “I want you to be a maid for me. For tonight. Speak as if you’re from very old, very royal times. Do everything I say exactly as I say when I say it. Respond to my commands without protest. Refer to me as Sir. Basically, be an obedient, helpful, skillful maid for me all evening. No matter what I ask. Do this, and I will consider your debt paid.”
“What?!”
“Oh you heard me. You want to pay your debt, this is what you have to do. You promised after all, didn’t you?”
Spike looks up at you dubiously. You can tell, without a doubt, that he does not want to do this. But somehow that makes it all the better. You know how much he loves Rarity. You know he’ll have to say yes. You could make threats, say you could ruin his chances, say you’ll beat him into a pulp. But you won’t have to do any of that. All you have to do is say three words.
You lean forward out of your chair towards him.
“You owe me,” you say again, almost in a whisper.
He swallows hard, shuts his eyes, and balls up his little claws. He makes some sort of internal whimper, but when he opens his eyes you can see it there. The broken will. He knows you’re right. He does owe you. And he is a dragon of his word.
“Alright,” he says softly, defeated. “I’ll do it.”
“Splendid,” you say, smiling broadly even though your eyes hold malice rather than joy.
“So…what do I do now?”
“Well first you have to look the part,” you tell him.
You place a finger under his chin and raise his face to look at you. He looks embarrassed, ashamed, maybe even frightened. But still willing.
“What do you mean,” he asks quietly.
“Well, your maid outfit is upstairs in your room,” you tell him. “I’ve modified it a little, to look more the part, less French maid. Put that on and come down here, then we’ll begin.”
You tap him on the chin once and then sit back. He blushes deeply and looks at the ground. He seems like he might protest, refuse, but he stays silent, just standing there before you, already humiliated at just your request.
“Chop chop,” you say as he continues to stand there. “Get going, there is much to do tonight.”
With a short sigh, he turns and trudges up the stairs.
You sit back and watch him go with a satisfied feeling growing in your gut. He’s yours. He’s putty for you to mold into exactly what you want. In a few minutes, he’ll come down and you can finally follow through with all those hours, those desiring glances, those cruel thoughts. You glance at a flowerpot on the table with a detached, calculating look. You raise a hand, bring it to the pot, and deftly sweep it off onto the ground with a crash. It shatters, dirt and bits of ceramic flying everywhere. This will be a good start, you muse.
Your eyes return to the stairs and you gaze up at where you know Spike’s room is. You can’t help but wonder what is going through that silly little dragon head of his right now.
----
You shut your bedroom door behind you, your claws already wet with nervous sweat.
What is he thinking? What is going on here? Of course you owe him, you know that, and you keep your promises. That kiss from Rarity will probably make this all worthwhile anyway. You touch your cheek with one purple claw and smile at the memory of how warm and soft her lips were.
But still. Really? A maid?
You swore you’d never put on that dress again. You swore you’d never dress like a girl after that day. Well…maybe if Rarity asked you to model something, but that’s besides the point. Anon is asking too much of you! He’ll probably make you clean up every mess he’s ever made, probably will take pictures of you and call you names. And then he’ll tell everyone and never let you live it down!
You see your maid dress laid flat on the bed. Sure enough, the skirt is a little longer, the frills a little less. And the sleeves look almost flowy, more dressy than before. The hat’s still the same though, that little black and white crest that fits oddly over your spines. Attached to the hat is a little note.
It reads: “Your name is now Lifts Her Tail. Don’t forget that.”
You reread the name, but it doesn’t make much sense.
Lifts Her Tail? That’s a sentence, not a name! And it’s a stupid one too. This whole thing is stupid.
You glare at the note as you slip on the cool cloth folds of the dress and position the precarious little hat atop your head. It fits snug, securely, and you feel a cold breeze against your rear end. The skirt may be longer, but whenever you move it rides up on your tail, showing your butt. Well, you show your butt all the time, but somehow it feels weird now.
You finish adjusting, take a deep breath, and open the door of your room. As you descend the stairs, duster and cleaning rag in one claw, you see Anon.
He hasn’t moved from his position, and he reclines without looking at you or really noticing you. You can see that there’s a pile of dirt and clay next to him. Yep, it’s just as you thought. He’s going to make a complete fool out of you! You feel your cheeks warm as you reach the ground floor.
Anon looks up and sees you. A smile crosses his lips and he regards you with cool interest.
“Ok,” you mutter. “I’m here.”
The smile turns into a frown.
“Sir,” he corrects.
You sigh. You have promised to be obedient, follow his rules. You’re a dragon of your word.
“I’m here Sir,” you say. You feel the blush spread, and regret that you’ve always blushed so easily.
He nods in approval.
“Ah yes. You’re just in time, Lifts Her Tail,” he says. “I seem to have had a little accident here.”
He gestures to the broken flower pot, then back to you.
“Cleaning is your forte, yes?” he asks.
You shrug.
“Yeah I guess….Sir,” you add, catching yourself.
“Well then,” he goes on. “Won’t you be a dear and come over here and clean it up?”
You grumble to yourself as you trudge over to the mess. With a sigh, you bend over you start picking up the pieces of pot. No sooner have you bent over than you feel a cool breath of air against your backside again. Anon is lifting your skirt! You spin to face him, embarrassed and angry now. How dare he? What does he think he’s doing right now? But he just looks at you without emotion. You give voice to your protest.
"Hey! I didn't say you could-"
“Please,” he says cooly, pointing back to the mess. “Continue, oh obedient little one.”
He emphasizes obedient, and you get the point. No protests, no backtalk. You do as he says for the night, just tonight. You have to be good. You slowly turn back to the flower pot and bend over again. Anon again lifts your skirt as you do, and this time you don’t protest. He makes an appreciative ‘hm’ noise as he does, and you’re sure he can see how red your face is getting, even from behind you.
Come on, Spike. Focus on the task at claw.
You pick up the pieces of pot and place them in the basket of your folded apron. You make sure to get every one, gently picking around the sharp edges and fractured fragments.
Just as you’re about finished you feel a sudden, sharp, slap on your behind. You let out a yelp and drop the fragments you’ve collected. You look over your shoulder, but Anon just smiles at you and points to the pile of dirt.
“Keep cleaning little one,” he says.
You slowly look away from him, your rear smarting from the sudden impact. Before you can even get another shard into your apron, you feel another sharp swat on your bottom. You wince, but this time stay silent. You tighten your grip on the piece of pot, almost cutting into your palm between your scales.
This isn’t what you expected. This isn’t what you wanted. But you have a chore to do.
You pick up another piece. Another smack. The pain vibrates through your body into your chest where it becomes a cry. But you hold it down inside and reach for another piece. You placed them all into your apron as the blows continue.
Smack!
You grit your teeth and begin sweeping the dirt into a pile.
Smack!
You pull over the nearby wastebasket and deposit the broken pot without a word.
Smack!
You pause, holding your breath so you don’t cry out from the pain, then set to sweeping the dirt into the basket.
Smack!
You whimper as a particularly hard one hits you, and you dig your claws into your hand, trying to stave off the overwhelming sting. You stand the wastebasket upright and turn back to face Anon, tears hanging in the corners of your eyes.
The task is done, you’ve finished! And you didn’t make a peep! Somehow, it’s a satisfying feeling. An accomplishment. And through the pain for feel a muted satisfaction. It’s confusing…but nice?
No, that can’t be the word.
You stare up at Anon, a strange mixture of emotions and sensations flooding your senses. He nods his approval at you, and somehow that’s satisfying too. What’s going on with you tonight? This doesn’t make any sense.
“Nicely done little one, but there’s more I wish you to do,” he says.
You nod at him.
“Ok, what do you wish of me, Sir?”
Your own words sound far away, like they’re being said by another person in another life. But that’s your voice. These are your stinging butt cheeks, your dirty claws. This is you. And that’s Anon, smiling down at you.
“Well,” he says. “I have a spear. I need to use it quite frequently and it’s gotten, well, dirty. I need it cleaned thoroughly.”
“Yes Sir.”
“You will clean it to my satisfaction, till I decide it is clean enough. Yes?”
“Yes Sir.”
You look around for a spear, but see none. Maybe he has to go get it? But then, as you look back to Anon, you see that he’s unbuttoning the front of his pants. You can’t help but stare as he looks directly into your eyes and deftly undoes button after button.
What is he doing?
He reaches into his pants front and frees his…oh Celestia, he’s pulling out his Penis! It looks so strange, so foreign, like nothing you’ve ever seen! And you can’t help but notice that it’s big all the way to the tip, nothing like yours. Is that the way all human penises look? You gaze in shock as he displays his erect dick and points towards it.
“Polish my spear,” he says slowly.
It takes a moment to sink in.
Wait, does he want you to…yes he wants you to touch his penis! You feel your stomach flip over like a pancake. That’s disgusting! You would never touch someone else’s penis besides your own! Even then you only do it for cleaning. And THAT thing? It’s so much bigger than yours, you wouldn’t know what to do with it, where to begin! You can’t! you won’t!
But there’s Anon, still staring expectantly down at you. You’re his maid for the night, you promised. Promised. This is just another cleaning task, disgusting as it is. You can do this. You have to.
You wipe your claws on your apron and take a deep breath. Come on, Spike. You can do this.
“Well?” Anon prompts. “I’m waiting.”
You take a step forward and reach out with one claw. You can feel it shaking.
“Watch the claws,” Anon instructs.
Then, he grabs your wrist and jerks your arm forward. You give a little gasp as you stumble forward towards his seated form. Before you can do anything about it, Anon pulls your claw around his member and squeezes it there tightly. You jump, and you instantly want to draw back. The skin is almost hot against your scales, and pulsing like some living creature. You feel nauseated, confused, ashamed. But you don’t pull away. You’re a good obedient little maid, you remind yourself. You have a task. And you’ll do it well.
Slowly, you begin to move your claw.
Keeping the pressure even, you move your claw up and down the length of his shaft in a polishing motion, being careful to keep the sharp parts away from his skin. Anon closes his eyes and leans back. He lets out a long humming sigh and slouches lower in the chair to give you better access.
You want to close your eyes, want to look away, but somehow you can’t stop looking at your claw moving up and down, up and down on his dick. It’s mesmerizing somehow, and the motion feels natural to you. You also find yourself varying pressure as you feel his pulses change. Gentler here, loose here, tight there. It twitches in your grasp, letting you know what’s good and what’s not.
Why are you being so careful?
Why are you getting into this?
Why are you….enjoying this?
“Lifts Her Tail?” you hear Anon say, and it snaps you out of your stupor.
“Y-yes Sir?” you say dumbly.
“It’s too dry.”
You blink at him.
“Dry, Sir?”
He looks down at you calmly.
“Yes. I think you should wet it down before you continue,” he says.
You nod slowly.
“Of course Sir, of course. Just let me get some water and-“
You move to step away from him, but he again grabs your wrist and keeps your claw fastened around his cock.
“No, I think,” he says slowly. “That you should wet it with your own water.”
“My own?”
He reaches down and places a finger gently against your mouth.
“Yes little one, your own. It’ll get the task done more quickly.”
You glance at his dick and feel somehow like crying. He wants you to lick it? But that’s so gross, so demeaning. But somehow you can’t help thinking that he’s right. It will get done faster, after all, and it won’t be so bad, will it? No it can’t be that bad. Besides, if you do a good job he might look at you like that again. With that approval, with that gaze that says “good job.” You’re not sure why, but you want that approval so badly.
“Yes….yes Sir,” you say in defeat.
You slowly lean forward and lick your lips with your purple tongue in anticipation. You can’t look at this, can’t see what you’re doing, it’s too humiliating!
You shut your eyes and begin to lower your mouth over his dick.
All at once you feel his hand come down firmly on the back of his head. Your eyes shoot open. Before you can squeal a protest, Anon’s dick forces it way past your teeth and tongue, all the way to the back of your throat. You gag, but hold back the nausea. You whimper against his flesh, and your eyes water from the shock, but you don’t pull your head away.
You hear Anon moan softly as he holds your head there.
“You be careful with those teeth, little maid,” he says through gritted teeth. “Just do your work thoroughly and carefully or I’ll make you do it over again.”
You close your eyes again and take a deep breath in through your nose. You again tell yourself that you can do this, that you must do this. Your claw still rests around the base of his member, and you tighten the grip slightly. You use it as a pushing point as you draw your head back along his cock, feeling it slide against your tongue and lips. It’s so big you can barely get half of it into your mouth at a time, but as it draws out you flick your tongue against it, trying to get it good and wet.
Anon moans again and you look up to find him staring down at you. He holds your gaze with his as he again puts pressure on your head, sliding your mouth back down over his dick. You stare up from watery eyes, confused, afraid, but utterly subservient to his wishes.
You look away, confused by these feelings maybe even….is this a good feeling? You can feel a tingling in your own dragon member right now, and it’s indeed good feeling you think. What’s going on?
Nevermind that now, just do as your told.
You breathe in as his cock reaches the back of your throat once more and you tighten your lips around him. You suck gently, as if you were eating the sweetest of gems and you wanted it to last. He responds by pulsing firmly against the roof of your mouth. You close your eyes, feeling the changes in his dick as you move, searching for those good points again.
“Faster,” Anon murmurs.
You pick up the pace, wrapping your dragon tongue like a coil around his cock, squeezing hard. Up, down, Up down, over and over. You begin to move your claw too as you feel your saliva dripping down around it, alternating with your mouth. As you pull away, you pull your claw towards the base of his shaft, then back up as you come down. You feel a rhythm developing and internalize it. The pulses are more frequent now and you can hear him breathing raspily.
As you come down again, Anon pushes hard against the back of your head. You gasp and swallow as his member shoots back the past of your mouth, down your little throat. You try hard not to gag or choak, and don’t struggle as his hips buck upwards into your mouth over and over.
“Take it all,” you hear him moan. “All of it you Argonian bitch.”
You feel the tingling in your own member intensify some and you swallow hard as he continues to thrust into your throat. You throw yourself into the task, flicking your long tongue around his dick.
You’re doing a good job. You know he’ll tell you how good you’re being soon, how good a job you did polishing his big long spear.
Oh Sir, tell me I’ve been a good maid…
You don’t know where these feelings are coming from anymore, but you can’t stave them off. They wash over you effortlessly and you suck his dick hard, licking at it, getting it all wet just as he asked. The pace is so fast now, his throbbing pulses so close together. He’s almost panting he’s breathing so hard. He’s moaning to himself, holding onto the back of your head and using you like an automatic polisher. He’s going so fast and hard that it hurts, that you can feel his dick slipping against your tongue. But you can take it, you can…
All at once he lets out a low, tortured groan between clenched teeth. You feel a hot shot of fluid hit the back of your throat and you jerk back, surprised and confused. A pale mixture of your saliva and his…you don’t even know what this is, falls from your tongue and lips, dripping onto the front of your dress.
You look up at him, blushing furiously. There’s still so much of that stuff in your mouth and you swallow hard, licking your lips to clean up any remnants of this goop. You swallow the bitter, salty stuff down, breathing heavily. You didn’t realize this was such exhausting work! You look down at his member, still twitching but very clean now, except for that one drop. We can’t have that now, can we? You lean down and lick up the drop of the white stuff still lingering at the tip of his penis. He sighs as you do so, and nods at you.
He approves.
You did well.
You feel an unwilling swell of pride in your stomach and you blush, smiling sheepishly up at him.
“Well done,” he says in an airy voice.
You curtsey in your stained dress a little. It just feels like the respectful, natural thing to do right now.
“But you’re not done yet.”
Your smile falls a little. More? But his spear is clean, as he asked. Did you not do it well enough?
“S-sir?” you ask in a trembling voice.
“Yes, you see….my spear needs a sheath now where I can put it away. One that firs…snuggly.”
You have no idea what he’s talking about, but you’re eager to do as he says. You’ve never worked his hard for Twilight before, and it feels good to be so good. You want to do your job for Anon. Whatever it is, you are at his disposal.
“What must I do, Sir?”
He smiles and stands up. His member, which had wilted a little before, now stands up straighter. It’s not as big as before, but still quite erect. Where can you possibly put it? A vase? Wrap it in cloth?
“Kneel,” he says sharply.
You kneel.
“Turn around.”
You turn around, looking over your shoulder at him with large pleading eyes. Just tell me what to do, I’ll do it, I promise.
“Bend over.”
You bend forward, your skirt rising up in back, your butt towards him. You place your claws flat on the hardwood floor and lean so far that your chest and chin brushes the ground. Behind you, you hear him shuffling down onto the ground too. You feel a hand on the underside of your tail, holding it up. It’s embarrassing to have him staring so up close at your rear, but you keep your mouth shut and let him.
Then you feel his fingers probing your bottom. You feel him brushing your scales, touching you where no one has touched before. Then you feel him getting closer to your anus. What is he doing? That’s where your poop comes from! But he doesn’t stop, he doesn’t hesitate. He reaches up under your tail and gently probes into it with one fingertip. You wince as a small prick of pain ripples through your body. You grit your teeth again, but this isn’t the same pain as him striking your butt. This is different.
He pokes deeper, sliding his finger into your anus with firm, gentle pressure. You gasp in deeply through a clenched jaw as the finger goes deeper and the pain intensifies. It’s a strange ache deep inside, one you’ve never felt before. His finger is just too big! You can’t take it! He begins to move his finger forward and back in a slow rhythm and the pain abates a little. But not much.
“S-sir?” you almost gurgle.
“Ah yes,” he says wistfully, withdrawing his finger. “I do believe this will be an ideal and tight sheath for my spear.
Wait…
What?
All at once you feel his hands hard on your back. He shoves you down to the floor, your cheek scraping it harshly. You whimper as his weight comes down on your back, holding your arms at your sides and your body down. He tugs your tail up still, keeping your rear exposed. He probes at your hole again with his finger and…
Wait.
Wait, that’s not his finger it’s…
Anon lets out a solid grunt as he shoves his dick deep into you. There’s no gentleness, no slow sliding. Just one hard thrust and you can feel your ass cheeks resting against his hips. He’s inside you, all the way to the hilt.
You can’t help but scream out in pain as a white hot agony shoots through your body. The cry erupts from you and tears spring to your eyes as he holds your writhing body down and against his pulsing cock. He moans gently in satisfaction.
“Yes, just as I thought,” he croons. “It’s a perfect fit.”
He pulls back sharply and again slams his member deep into you.
You groan out again, the pain still flowing through your every sense. You sob from the sensation and feel hot, shameful tears streaking down your reddened face. His penis is in your ass, deep in your ass, twitching and pulsing. It hurts, oh Celestia it hurts so much…You want him to stop, you want to scream for help!
But you stay silent.
Something holds you back.
Your promise….your oath. You owe Anon for all he’s done. You promised to be obedient, to be good. This may be a lot to ask, way too much in fact, but you promised. You are his maid, to do what he wishes with, and he wishes for you to be a sheath for his spear.
You will be that for him, no matter the pain. You will be good. You will be his.
You bite your tongue and try not to struggle as he gently bucks his hips against your butt, moving his cock deep inside you. He pulls back again and begins moving in a slow but firm rhythm. You hold the squeaks and screams of pain and anguish inside you, only pathetic whimpers escaping your pursed lips. You can hear Anon grunting behind you as he thrusts again and again, violating your body with his. His strokes are getting longer, harder, faster. You can feel his member move and scrape within your body, in the most private and personal parts of you than no one has ever touched.
“Tell me you like it,” he grunts as he pulls your body down hard against his dick.
You can’t suppress a yelp as he swells inside you.
“Y-yes s-sir,” you whimper.
“Say it.”
“I l-like it….”
He shoves his dick so hard into you that you groan out a long warbling moan.
“Louder,” he growls, then thrusts again.
“I like it!” you cry as the pain again overwhelms you.
“Of course you do, you slut,” he hisses at you. “You’ve wanted this all along. And now you’ll give yourself to me. You’ll let me use you till I find the relief I need, because you want it. You want to be full of my dick, my cum. You want it.”
He begins thrusting hard and fast.
“I want it,” you cry out tearfully.
“You’re just a lowly maid and you’ll please me no matter what I say,” he groans, tossing back his head and beginning a harsh rhythm. “You’ll give me your ass to fuck. This is mine. You’re mine.”
“Y-yes s-sir!” you whine as you feel him pulsing and throbbing inside you.
You are his.
He pushes hard down against you so that your stomach and face scrape the ground with every stroke. You can feel the sting of wood on your bare knees and you hear the tear of your dress ripping. Even your little dragon member begins to drag painfully across the floor. But somehow…it feels…ok. No. Better than ok. It feels good. The pain excites you. You can feel a swelling in your dick now and feel it twitch to life with every thrust Anon makes. It scratches the floor, sending intense rolling pain through your loins, but at the same time it’s so satisfying.
Yes, you’re a lowly servant. You’re a maid. You’re worthless. You deserve this, you deserve what he’s doing to you. Even if you’re nothing, completely unimportant to this world, you’re his right now in this moment. You’re all his. You have a use, a purpose. You’re pleasing him.
That’s enough for you, it’s all you need.
You feel a twitch of pleasure in your penis, a swelling as it scrapes the ground. Anon continues to pump you over and over again, grunting louder as his thrusts grow deeper and harder. Through the stabbing pain you begin to develop a pulse of joy with each time he thrusts. With the pain, pleasure inches up into your limbs and head. You feel dizzy, drunk from it. It builds in you, writhes, ebbs and flows.
You’re pleasing him. You’re his.
His thrusts are growing more frantic now, more resolute. You can hear him groaning over your own twisted whimpers, and can sense that something is about to happen.
“You’re mine,” he hisses at you. “Mine.”
The pace is dizzyingly fast now. You can barely breathe!
Then, all at once, he lets out a roaring moan and thrusts his entire length into you as deep as it can go. As you cry out in pain you feel a warm, sudden spurt in your body. Like someone pumping hot liquid into your gut. Your eyes go wide as you feel his cock pulsing and the spurting repeats again. Then once more.
The tingling in your own body intensifies and you shut your eyes. With a reluctant, trembling cry, you feel your dick throb and a sudden jet of white shoots out onto your stomach, the dress, and the floor. It pools around your knees and chest, feeling hot and sticky on your scales. The roll of pleasure coursing through you is the most intense feeling you’ve ever known and it completely drains you. You fall limp against the floor, your mouth open and gasping against the wooden floor.
You barely know where you are, what’s happening. Only that this is the most intense release you’ve ever felt. Your limbs feel like jelly, and you can’t seem to steady your head. You just lay there as the feeling wracks your body over and over again.
Anon pants behind you, holding your body down in a death grip. You’re sure he knows what has happened to you and that he could feel whatever it was your body just did. He releases you and jerks backwards and you whine breathlessly as you feel his member pop out of you with a gush of liquid. He stands up, looking down at your used up body on the ground, stained in both his fluid and yours. Your dick twitches as it shrinks and your body trembles from the strange mixture of sensations you’re feeling.
You look up at him. The approval….please…you've been so obedient...
He simply nods at you and rebuttons his pants with a deft and swift hand. He Then straightens his shirt and brushes his sleeves before stepping back from your crumpled form.
“Seems you’ve made a mess here little one,” he says, and his voice is surprisingly steady. “Clean that up.”
You think he's about to leave, but he first stoops and gives you a firm, solid spank right on your well-violated rear. You don't even have the heart to cry out in pain.
"And that's for being late tonight," he says.
Then he briskly turns to the stairs and leaves you there, shuddering.
“Y-yes sir…” you manage to barely whisper.
----
Spike approaches you only a week later. You’ve never spoken about what happened, but he can no longer meet your eyes or speak to you without his voice cracking. Twilight has noticed something is different but she has yet to ask about it, and you doubt she will. Rarity has another date with Spike tonight and with your needs met you’re leaving him to it.
Sure, you had your fun. You forced that little dragon to submit to you, give his body for you to play with. But you are also a man of your word, and you told him his debt was paid. You’ll stick to that. Plus you get a certain thrill at remembering how you fucked him. How you took his virginity, gave him his first orgasm. You’ll always be in his memory, you’re a part of his past now. And you’ve taken something from him now too.
In a way, he’ll always be yours.
So when he approaches you that day, you can’t say you’re not surprised. You’re just headed up to your room when he tugs at your pantleg. You look down and he’s staring at the floor, just tugging on you.
“Yeah Spike?” you ask.
He’s quiet a moment, and you wonder if he’s even going to speak at all.
“H-hey Anon?” he says at last.
“Yeah?”
“I have a date with Rarity tonight.”
“I know Spike.”
He hesitates again.
“Well….thanks again for setting us up and all."
“Sure, don’t worry about it.”
You move to leave, but he doesn’t let go. You look down at him again. What the hell does he want?
“Anon?”
He says again.
“Yes?”
“Well I was wondering if….”
Great, he wants something else from you? Maybe he wants an apology for what you did to him. Maybe he wants to talk about it, the little fool. He stutters, fumbling for words.
“I was wondering if afterwards you could…you know…help me clean up the house…”
What?
He slowly looks up into your eyes and you can see it there. The devotion, the desire to please, and of course the complete undying obedience. All for you.
“Could you? ….Sir?”
You look back down at him with a calm cold expression, the one of a master looking at a slave. And through that expression, you’re sure Spike can see the beginnings of a smile.
-End-