Chapter 1
Caged
By Mocha Star
I hear a ringing in my ears, not terrible, but it’s nothing compared to the throbbing in my head. It feels like I’d just tried to cast a high level spell, or try levitate a huge boulder to impress some cute filly.
Ouch, is what I mean. It hurts from the base of my horn to the middle of my neck. I don’t even remember why it hurts… Where am I?
It’s dark, my legs are free and so is my body. Maybe I can just… OW! Darndarndarndarn, Celestia damnit, my head: owowow. It’s okay to shed tears, just, don’t cry too loud over the headache. Ouch, ok bad idea…
“Okay, note to self; don’t cast magic right now.”
Wagon Puller looked around his area as his eyes adjusted to what little light filtered in through the metal door. It looked like an industrial refrigerator door, but he didn’t know how he’d gotten there. Standing he noticed his horseshoes had been taken off, with a shrug he walked to the door and tapped it with his hoof.
“Hello, um,I think there was a mistake; I’m not supposed to be here. I don’t know where I am,” he said to the door, “but I don’t think this’ the right-”
A mares' blood curtling scream sent his ears flat to his head as he recoiled from the door.
“H-hello?” he asked slightly louder, expecting the door to answer. Another, shorter, scream echoed through the room, the sound of panicked shouting from beyond the door followed.
“P-please, are you okay out there?” he asked, taking several steps back, watching the door intently.
The panicked noises grew louder as the light entering the room was broken, and he could hear and feel, through the wood floors, the scrambling of hooves just outside of the door. He moved back farther as the screaming mare was dragged past the room and, as her voice faded, he began to tremble.
Hours passed in silence as he paced the spartan room. A bed, a window that had been boarded with metal bars over them keeping him in inky darkness, creaky wood floors, and the door. He had eaten several hours prior and was beginning to worry about when he’d be released and go to the restroom.
His ears perked as he heard distant scraping sounds.
“Hello? My name is Wagon Puller, I’m from the city. Can you let me out please? I have to use the colts room, please,” he asked hurriedly at the crack where the door didn’t quite match the frame.
The dragging sound got closer, passing his room. His heart sank as he prepared to use a corner, maybe widen one of the cracks in the floor? No, it could end up on some other pony who didn’t even know he was locked in this room.
There was a scratching sound before the dragging sound began again, only this time, it stopped right in front of his door.
He grinned happily as a latch on the outside clacked and groaned before the door was pulled open.
His smile fell when he saw a hornless centaur sneering at him. The creature was naked, standing a hoof taller than Wagon, with almost too skinny ‘arms’ and little things at the ends; like skin was wrapped over the bones for show.
In its left hand was something bright white, but he couldn’t tell what it was, he held only part of it, the rest out of the door frame..
“S-sir, may I be allowed to use the colts room?”
Without a word the centaur began to enter his room, forcing him back onto the bed and then against the wall before the creature stopped it’s approach, nearly at the bed, glaring a look of death at the pony before him.
“S-s-sir? What have I done to offend you? I’d like to make amends-”
With a toothy smile the centaur stopped Wagon’s train of thought. The sharp canine teeth that nearly gleamed in what little light entered the room, had made Wagon want to do what he knew was right; run away.
“The pony lays down, and looks away,” it said in a hiss. Wagon complied and turned his head, listening as the hoofsteps retreated and the door began to close.
He laid there for a minute after the door sealed. After the hoofsteps left the area in near silence again before he turned his head to the door with a huff, not expecting to see another pony in his room.
A white mare, attractive from the rump he could see. Cutie mark of two pieces of paper folded over each other with a pin between them. She was asleep.
He looked at her and debated waking her, but instead he chose to wait until after he’d chosen a corner to relieve himself in.
He picked the one nearest the foot of his bed and went, shamefully praying she didn’t wake up while he was going.
He finished and grumbled that there was no way to clean himself, before going to the mare and placing his hoof on her flank, shaking her lightly.
“Um, miss? I’m sorry to wake you, but I think you should know we’re in a bad place. I don’t know where,” he said with a bit of softness as he shoved her a little harder, “I don’t think the princesses know about it. We need to write a letter when we get out, or go see them in person” he said, trying to make light of the situation.
“Miss, are you alright?” he asked as he walked around around her and looked at her. Her mane was covering her face with multiple colors added and he noticed a spiked collar on her neck.
His heart numbed slightly at the sight of some gothic pony. He’d never have a chance now, he might as well wake her kindly though.
He nudged her neck. He tried asking her name and telling her to wake up as his panic grew. He moved to her front and laid down parallel to her before moving her mane away to see her.
He screamed and scrambled back at what he saw, feeling his heart pounding just before unconsciousness embraced him.
Wagon woke up nearly muzzle to empty hole in the center of her face, with the corpse in front of him, making him scream again scrambled back to the wall as he stared at her visage. He turned his head but couldn’t look away from the horror that he saw.
“Her face,” he said, trying to make sense of what he saw, “is gone… eaten? B-b-b-but,” he stammered, looking at the muzzless face and empty eye socket. Both eyelids were gone, sharp bite marks down to her skull over her missing eye told him where the eye probably was.
“S-she’s… I pray Celestia is watching over her,” he said quietly before he walked around her and climbed onto the bed, staring at her motionless body.
“Dear Celestia, please, help me…”
Hours passed before hooves clacked on the floors outside his room again, stopping outside his door.
He remained silent this time, sitting tall, ears erect, controlled slow breathing as he waited, prayed, for them to leave, or maybe take the mare out of his room.
The latch clicked. The door swung open. Standing there were two small, hornless centaurs; nearly the same as the one who had deposited the mare in his room. These were wearing cloths and tool belts around their lower torsos though.
Without a word they entered the room and each pulled a large knife and quickly went to work cutting the mare open and spilling her guts and organs onto the floor before quickly dressing her.
Without paying mind to the stallion who laid in shock, and slight curiosity, upon his bed; one cut her organs from her body while the other began to filet her skin.
Wagon gasped after a long minute, his body needing the air he’d forgotten to breathe in, he exhaled it in a blood curdling scream, scrambling back, nearly pushing his mattress off the bed as he tried to climb the wall.
He tried to cast a spell to push them away, to save what he could of her. He shouted in pain as his head throbbed, making his vision swim.
The two butchers chuckled as they began to separate her legs from her body and toss them, unceremoniously, from the room into the hallway.
The blood pooled and began running through the cracks in the floor as they each finished most of their work.
In eight minutes the two of them had turned the once beautiful mare into a carcass. The one that had skinned her wore her hide as the other grabbed her neck and dragged her from the room; leaving a trail of her entrails and blood across the floor; trapping him on his bed.
He had stopped screaming as they had begun to toss the remaining parts from the room into the hallway, but he couldn’t stop staring at the carnage; the carefree way the two had worked. The expertise they had used. The smiles they wore until the end.
Without another word or thought he laid his head down and trembled at the images that he knew would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Time passed, but he didn’t know for how long. He’d turned and had been looking at the wall. The stench of meat and what made her alive, made her unique, lay splattered on the floor mere lengths away.
He’d cried for Celestia knew how long, knowing sleep wouldn’t come. All he needed to do was sleep and he could at least try to tell Luna about what had happened. Maybe she could do something.
The latch on the door clacked and before he knew it there was a noise behind him.
He didn’t have to look to know they were cleaning up their mess; some of it anyway.
“When will I be let go?” he asked openly.
“The pony will say no more words,” a male voice said, “the pony will come with us or end up like his kind.”
He shivered at the thought of having his face eaten; or worse. He looked to the ceiling as he climbed off his bed; his eyes looking down to see the diabolical creatures as he followed one out of his room.
A scream came from several rooms down the hall as he felt something hard hit to the side of his head.
“The pony looks tasty. We will make a lot of money from your magical meat,” he heard from behind him as he held the growing bruise on his head.
“Celestia and Luna will stop you, bastards.”
Another strike to his ribs sent him to his knees, nearly crying in pain as the two stood to either side of him.
“The pony will wear the shame of his kind,” was what he heard as he felt a blanket across his body. It was chilly, though. He looked back to see white and knew what it was as he shouted in disgusted fear, bucking blindly, trying to get it off.
It had just enough blood left left on it to stick to his fur as he felt the panic building. He opened his mouth to scream but felt something shoved in.
Soft. Cold. Metalic.
He bit down instinctively and gagged at the taste that filled his mouth and ran down his throat. To the hilarious joy of his captures, he had begun to vomit, spitting the mare’s organ from his mouth.
“The pony does not like where babies come from? It is most tasty,” one of them said between laughs.
A spark of disgusted rage flared in Wagon as he looked at the closer one and heaved with all his might, a retch worth of vomit upon his body.
With a growl and sneer the centaur reared and clasped his hands, coming down hard onto Wagon’s head, sending him to the floor. Vomit sprayed from his snout, mixed with blood as he tried to get up.
He felt hooves on his neck, holding him down. He could feel the chunks of what food he had left in his body getting caught in his throat as he fought for freedom.
Is this how I die? On my own vomit? In some dark place without my family and friends? he thought as he felt his body beginning to spasm.
“The pony will wish for death before the end comes. Now that you have sullied my coat and flesh, you will have to wait for the moment to be free.”
His stomach and upper intestines empty, he felt sleeps final embrace approach as he was lifted and his body squeezed, his airway clearing, and the disgusting flavor of meat and vomit that permeated his senses of taste and smell as he was let to fall to the floor, unconscious.
His body hurt, his mouth stung, and his stomach was cramping as his eyes opened against his will. It was pitch black. Against his better judgement he tried to cast a light spell. A slight flicker lit the cage he was in before the pain struck. He regretted what little he did see.
He lifted his head and grunted as his head hit the ceiling before he tried a futile effort of escape and screaming for help. His hooves scratching against the wooden floor sent slivers of pain down his body.
Pegasi feathers of all colors and sizes were scattered in the cage as well as dried blood. Once he’d calmed down enough, he poked the sides to find they were hide. He figured they were most likely pony hide, as he moved to the center and huddled down.
The sounds of movement were nearly constant, as were the sounds of the centaurs speaking in their native language. He listened as they passed by his cage and winced as it sounded like they were going to come for him.
A stallion was screaming, the voice coming from the distance before it became close enough he could tell the pony it belonged to was near him.
“Help! What’ve I done? Not again, please, not again!” he screamed as a snapping sound was heard, sending the unknown stallion into a screaming pain filled rage and Wagon into a tighter ball in the center of his cage. He hugged and stroked his tail while he trembled as the screaming stallion was thrown into a cage near his, the screaming non-ceasing.
The hide covering his cage was moved and a giant hand opened the door while another reached in and grabbed at him. He scrambled away and kicked at the offending appendage as it closed around his right foreleg and yanked him out with a shout of pain. Wagon saw his cage was in a large stack of others.
Each covered with a pony hide, some tanned, some rotting through. His was second from the bottom of what seemed to be eight heigh. How many held ponies in them, he wondered.
A deep, smooth voice spoke as Wagon was lifted to eye level with the fully grown centaur. Easily as large as a giant tree with horns the size of most houses and sharpened teeth that filled its mouth added to the terror in Wagon’s mind.
“So, this is the unicorn you brought me? I’d expected something, better,” it scoffed as it tossed Wagon to the side, landing him on a soft table sized for the giant creature.
“Enjoy my bed, for when you’re mine again, you will hate it,” he said snapping his fingers.
Several centaurs Wagon’s size climbed onto the bed and approached the stallion.
“W-what’re you going to do? Why are you keeping me here? Please, will one of you tell me anything? Why are you looking at me like that… no. No. NO!” he screamed as the creatures jumped him, turning him to his belly while scratching him with sharpened fingernails. One lifted his tail while another mounted him while another climbed over his head.
His screams only encouraged them until each had a turn, leaving the sobbing stallion, bleeding from his ass and the many scratches across his coat, to lay in the mess they’d made.
He whimpered as the last one patted his back. “The pony has done well, much more than the mares. The next will have a lot to live up to,” it said leaning over Wagon and kissing the top of his head while another wiped his just drained cock across Wagon’s muzzle.
The large centaur came over and leaned down, looking at the pony on the bed.
“You have bled on my bed? What a filthy creature you are, to defile my bed in such a way,” the creature mused.
“P-please,” Wagon wept, “you’ve had your way with me. Let me go now, please.”
“Oh, I haven’t had my way with you,” he said grinning sending a new wave of terror through Wagon. “Yes, look me over. Imagine what I can do to you,” he said standing tall and taking a pace back, turning to the side.
Wagon’s eyes looked the centaur over in fear, stopping at his sheathed member Wagon began trembling and mumbling as the giant bellowed a laugh.
“Oh, silly pony. To think I’d sully myself with one as small and worthless as you.”
“Th-then, let me go,” Wagon said trying to stand. The burning, stinging pain had spread across most of his back half and he couldn’t even sit. Moving his tail hurt more than he could ever imagine t, sending worse feelings to where he was just violated.
“I will do with you as I please, little pony. I am Kortan, tasked with finding the next to bear His true mark. The pony will have to survive what I do to it before we even see if it’s worthy of finding if it’s worth the mark; so, let’s begin. What is your name?”
“W-Wagon Puller, sir.”
“Bwa-ha-ha! Oh, you ponies and your names… Always the joke of the world. Okay, Cart Tugger, move to my hand and I’ll let you go.” He placed his hand at the far end of the bed and smiled.
Without another word or hesitation, Wagon began in earnest to drag himself across the cloth bedding by his forelegs. It may have been an arms length to the giant, but it was nearly a block in length through blinding pain. Wagon kept his eyes on his goal as his forelegs tired nearing the end and he collapsed.
He looked to Kortan with sad eyes, trying to muster up his foalhood act of begging when he noticed a table just past the centaur; set to its height and covered with tools and other devices, probably of torture.
“D’awww, the poor pony gave up so close to his freedom. How, expected.”
Panting, Wagon looked up with pleading eyes. “Please, just let me go.”
“When I am done with you, what just happened; you will beg for it,” Kortan said leaning in so close Wagon could see bones of ponies in his teeth.
“Please,” Wagon whispered, “I just want to go home.”
“If you wish you may give one of my minions your address during your next session with them. They can send a hoof to your family. Maybe yours, maybe not. They’ll never know, but they’ll have their answer.”
With a heavy gulp, Wagon laid his head onto his forelegs and sniffled.
He felt a pinch on his sides as he was picked up like a small toy and moved back to his cage.
“The little pony will have to wait his turn. Good luck to you and your,” Kortan chuckled, “stallionhood’s recovery.”
Wagon laid flat in his cage, unable to curl from the stinging pain in his ass. He’d tried to wipe the yellow cum from his face but it’d crusted far quicker than any he’d ever given a mare. Probably being a different species they had different seed, he assumed.
He felt the cages rattle as another pony, a mare this time, was taken. Screaming for her freedom after hearing what had just happened to him she begged and pleaded.
After hearing the introductions he felt a spell being cast; a couple minutes later her screams sent shivers down his spine. Her pleading for him to stop and the others to let her go went unheeded.
Then he heard something that would have made him vomit, if he had anything left.
The noise had stopped for a moment before a barely audible crack was heard, following more screaming from her and laughter from them.
“My wing?! Oh, Celestia, you broke my wing! No, augh, stop, not in there, it hurts too much, you’re ripping me open,” she screamed before making a gagging sound to the delight of the centaurs who were filling her every hole.
Wagon covered his ears with his hooves and began to hum loudly. He finally found some peace from the terrible sounds. Every couple minutes he would take his hooves off to listen, hoping it would be over for the poor mare, only to hear it continuing.
Nearly half an hour passed before he felt a powerful spell being cast, then the cages moving again and listened, hearing Kortan speak.
“Little mare, you have pleased me. As a reward I will let you see what I do to the next pony, so you may appreciate how lenient I’ve been with you,” he said to the whimpering mare. Unable to move his tail from the pain, Wagon still managed to lower it more to guard his ruined ass.
“Ah, the elder one,” Kortan said, “time to see if he will bare the mark,” Kortan said with annoyance as the cage above Wagon opened with a creak and a low grunt from its occupant. “A unicorn, perhaps the irony will please Him.”
What did this monster have against unicorns?
There was a clatter, as though space was being made on the table, then silence. Kortan mumbled for a moment before a clacking sound of metal was heard, like a wrench, only larger.
A sharp shout of pain, then silence.
The silence was almost more torture than being raped by several creatures.
“Bah, another failure,” Kortan grunted, “take this one to the cannery and have him sent back to his family,” he said dejectedly. “I’ve been tasked with the impossible, why did I agree to this nightmare?” he said to himself, “find the chosen one. A task that is as ludicrous as it is impossible.
“One pony out of the hundred thousand in this land. I’d have better luck convincing Celestia and Luna to surrender,” Kortan groaned at the proclamation.
Another centaur began conversing with Kortan in their native tongue, the conversation lost but the defeat in the monster's voice was plain.
Wagon laid his head on his forelegs and sobbed quietly as a terrible sensation became known.
He had to go to the restroom…
The longest day had passed and Wagon had been unable to sleep for longer than a few minutes. Everytime he’d turn or move the pain would flare up and the cramps from holding it in, the fear and pain he knew would come, outweighed the cramps he was having. The fact he was hungry made it all worse.
His mouth was dry and the flavor of vomit and what little semen had found it’s way in had almost finally gone away. He smacked his lips and shook slightly before he let a smile cross his face. He’d moved his tail and it didn’t hurt as bad. He moved his rear legs and, even though it was sore, he could curl up again.
That lasted a mere moment as the urge became too much. He knew he wouldn’t be let out so he chose a corner far from the door, squatted, and let his body relax. He shouted and winced at the burning pain as his bowels released their contents quickly; the scent wasn’t as horrible as he’d expected, but it was still unpleasant.
He groaned as the liquid streamed across the floor, covering it with fecal juices. He couldn’t see but he could feel it running across the floor.
He really wished he’d taken the corner by the door as his toilet.
More ponies came and went. Raped, bones broken, and it sounded like one was skinned while alive then eaten with a salad… Wagon couldn’t help but lick his lips at the thought of eating the entire time Kortan had his meal.
“Ah, yes. Thank you, I’d forgotten about your pet… You’re a bit smitten with him, aren’t you,” Kortan teased one of his kind who grumbled. “Oh, don’t worry, none will know. I’ll gather him.”
A few paces and the hide was moved, blinding Wagon to the morning light that filtered through the windows of the factory warehouse he now noticed he was in. Old curtains covered most of the windows that were too high for him to hope to reach without wings.
The warehouse had been filled with cages, a dozen piles were stacked in triangles up to a dozen high with small centaurs walking between and around them.
Most cages had hide covering them, while others had the hide pulled back, showing their empty status.
“Ah, he is awake and has decorated his home. How cute of the little, naive pony,” Kortan cooed as he opened the cage and took Wagon out. Turning to the table he trotted around it and found a spot he liked before placing the pony down.
Without word or warning Kortan grabbed Wagon’s left rear leg and bent it back quickly until he felt the telltale feeling of a bone snap. Wagon yelled at first before clenching his teeth and bearing the first shock of pain.
“Well, now. We seem to have a unique pony here,” Kortan said twisting the broken leg, finally getting the shouts of pain he longed for. He let the twisted leg fall to the table and watched as it slowly unwound itself, showing tears in the pony’s skin and blood speckled coat.
Turning his head away, Wagon clenched his teeth and growled through the pain.
“Well, this is quite the unique pony. What would you say if I were to break all your legs, little pony?”
Wagon forced his head to look at the centaur whose mouth was as large as he was before sneering back. “Buck you and your entire race, you’ll never break my heart.”
“Bwa-ha-ha-ha,” Kortan bellowed in laughter before leaning back down to look at the pony closely, “I can, indeed, break your heart and the last thing you see will be that happen. As for now,” he said snapping his fingers with a sly grin, “time to take a break and loosen up.”
Wagons eyes widened as the table trembled and three centaurs climbed to the tabletop. Two from the previous evening were looking at him, hungrily.
“Please, not again. I haven’t healed, you can’t do this! The princess will find out and you’ll be punished! You’ll never get away with this,” Wagon shouted as one of the centaurs mounted him from behind while another stood over him.
Wagon watched in restrained fear as a long, thin cock emerged from the safety of the centaurs body, stopping against his forehead before the beast moved back and waited.
With a hard thrust he was penetrated from behind. The sharp pain made him yelp, and then he felt something in his mouth. Warm, hard, salty…
He prayed to Celestia he’d be found soon…
He laid on the table coughing fresh sperm from his lungs, trying his best to not swallow any more than he already had; regretting the fact that it actually felt good to have something in his belly, even if it was a horrible thing and way it’d gotten there.
His ass didn’t hurt as bad this time, but he felt the burn as much as before, if not more. He forced himself to his three hooves and wiped his eye on his fetlock.
“Are you done yet?” Wagon asked defiantly, earning him a chuckled from the giant who had just watched him be raped.
“Oh, not quite… There is something unique about you-”
“Yeah, go spell yourself! You’ve said that already. Let me go, bastard.”
“No, I think it’s time I have a little fun,” Kortan grinned.
“Oh, you’re going to take a turn inside me? Fine,” he said, turning and raising his tail to Kortan who averted his eyes from the anus that was leaking blood mixed with bright yellow centaur seed.
“I am not that type of stallion. My fun is more in the pain variety,” Kortan smiled as he placed a finger to the flank of the wounded stallion and turning him.
“You’ve already broken my leg and it may never work again. You’ve destroyed my ass, which is something I never thought I’d say. You’ve won; just let me go.”
“Colt, it’s not about winning or losing. I have a task I was given and you’re just another piece in a puzzle that seems to have no solution,” he said taking a knife from under the table and sliding it across the table.
Wagon took a hesitant step back as it was raised, the tip was lowered to the base of his horn. He stumbled back, shouting as his broken leg moved too fast and he fell.
“Oh, pathetic,” Kortan said reaching and gripping Wagon in his grasp and holding him still as the knife spun in his hand, landing between his thumb and pointer finger, holding it tight and balanced.
“Stay quiet and I won’t make a mistake, that will make one of my minions very sad.”
“W-what’re you going to do to my horn?”
“Well, it was damaged back when you were brought in and dropped, so I figured I’d help with something,” Kortan said as he loomed darkly over Wagon, lowering the tip of the blade to Wagon’s horn, “don’t move or you’ll regret it,” he said as he quickly stabbed the knife tip into Wagon’s head at the base of his horn.
He flinched and tried to scream, beg, pull free, but nothing worked as time felt like it slowed down. He felt the pain in his body dull and he looked at the tabletop move while Kortan worked on his head. With an odd feeling that was like his headache was being pulled from him he smiled.
“That wasn’t so bad,” he said looking up at Kortan.
“This, is a most interesting development…” Kortan said looking at Wagon with a sense of awe, “you don’t feel stupid, or pain, or the desire to die?”
“Why would I? It’s nothing compared to what’s going to happen to you,” Wagon smirked as blood crossed his face and began to wet Kortan’s hand.
“And what will a failed experiment like you do to me?” he retorted turning the horn over in his hand and looking at it, “the fact you have not yet gone insane is meaningless. You bear no marks or identity that I was told to look for, now you will join the others in the cages and left to be a plaything.”
With a sigh, Kortan turned the horn until it was straight up and then held it tight before spitting on it and squeezing Wagon tighter, the blood began running out of his hornless head quicker before Kortan stabbed the horn back into his head, upside down, smoothing it with his finger into Wagon's skull as best it could fit.
With a deep gurgling sound Wagon’s eyes rolled up into his head and he began to convulse as Kortan’s grin grew. He let him fall to the table and spasm.
“And another failure is dealt with...”