All the strange, bizarre, crazy, weird short stories that accomany my art, and more!
A compilation of all the crazy kinky short stories I post alongside my art! Proceed with caution, for these little short stories go so many different places, and I am not liable for any permanent bodily alterations they may cause to readers. Some new some old, all written between 2015 and 2019.
Mile High fluttered his wings softly in the crisp evening air as he settled onto the ground in Ponyville just outside of the renowned Carousel Boutique. With his wings nestled back against his sides he took a deep breath, pulling out a letter from a small side satchel he wore to look over its words and confirm the contents one more time before proceeding. It was a letter from Rarity, one of, if not the most fashionable and well known socialites in Equestria, a letter that Mile had never in his life anticipated seeing in his mailbox.
The letter was an invitation of sorts; Rarity introduced herself (though she needed no introduction really), and spoke in wonderful detail of just how much she loved Mile’s books and that she had been inspired by the stories. He was a writer, after all, and such words were a quick way to his heart. His harrowing stories of gothic romance had broad appeal, a fact well demonstrated by the quarterly cheques that his publisher cut him for the royalties from sales across Equestria, but he hadn’t thought they had reached the likes of Rarity. She invited him to her boutique that evening, to discuss her inspiration for a fashion line based upon the characters in his work, and perhaps even to model a piece or two thereof, which was an opportunity Mile just couldn’t pass up, if for no reason other than the chance to hob-nob with the prettiest in mare in Equestria, light blush evident in the reddish fur on his cheeks.
He looked over the date and time, then looked it over again, even checking it against his pocket watch before taking a deep breath and putting his articles back into his satchel. Steeling his nerve, he took a deep breath and mustered himself up to plant a firm three knocks upon the resonant timber of the Boutique’s door.
Knock-a-knock-a-knock!
For agonizing moments he waited, awkwardly gazing between the door and his forehooves at the ground, his attentive ears picking up only the faint evening breeze and the muffled ticks of his watch deep in the folds of his satchel. But the near silence was broken a minute later by the tell-tale sound of hoofsteps approaching beyond the wooden portal, not the heavy ringing steps of a well shod working stallion, no, they were light, delicate sounding, and in a near perfect cadence.
Mile gulped, waiting there for a moment before the click of the latch caught his ears as the well oiled door slid open, revealing before him the radiantly white furred mare, practically glowing in the warm evening light. She smiled gently, looking him up and down from behind a bouncy curl of rich royal blue mane, then greeting him.
“Oh good evening to you darling, I really am glad you could make it.” She said with a giggle.
“A-ah, the pleasure truly mine, Ms. Rarity.” Mile replied bashfully.
“Well… please, do come in!” Rarity said with a flourish, the shimmering glow of her horn opening the door wider as she stepped aside, turning to walk back into the boutique with the stallion closely in tow.
“Thank you.” He says to the invitation to follow, doing his best to keep his eyes from wandering to her flanks as she walked ahead of him, silently thankful that his red fur hid his blush for the most part. He silently kept his will power from outwardly showing any other signs of his interest, trying his best to keep his professional composure in front of one of the very Elements of Harmony.
“So as I mentioned in the letter, I very much am a fan of your work.” Rarity said, leading him across the show floor, trotting past rows of finished dresses all artfully arranged for eager shoppers to peruse upon the next opening of the boutique. “I admit, I have something of a weakness for the genre… I find it inspiring! Nothing like a good romance to spark excellent ideas for haute couture, such that will impassion the elites of Canterlot or Manehattan. For while they may not admit it outwardly…” Rarity pauses, turning to lean in toward Mile’s ear, voice barely over a whisper. “I know their secrets, they love your stories too.”
“Goodness. Well, Ms. Rarity, that’s certainly wonderful to hear, I’ve gotten pretty good reviews from the publishing houses, but I didn’t know they were so popular among the upper crust.” He chuckled softly as Rarity led him up onto the top floor of the boutique, stepping out into a large and rounded room. The setting sun shone lazily through several oval windows, illuminating the sea blue carpet, sewing implements, and a ruby linen bed in the rich warm hues of the evening as the sun sunk rapidly below the horizon.
“Oh but of course! And I really do have some works of my own you can help me with…” Rarity said softly, stopping in the middle of the room with Mile right in the circle made by the ornately ringed carpet. She walked a quick circle around him with a light grin on her face, lifting a delicate forehoof to run it through his red fur from neck to flank, sending a tantalizing shiver through his body. “... that is, if you’re willing.”
“A-ah…” Mile took in a sharp breath, startled by the mare touching his pelt, his heart beating a flutter. “Absolutely, Rarity! Anything I can do to help you!” He nodded rapidly.
“Good.” Rarity grinned almost mischievously. “Then I guess we can get started… stay here for just a moment!” She patted his back with a hoof before she turned and trotted to a nearby desk where an unusual book lay propped up on a stand. With her magic she flipped it open and sifted through the pages, humming a quiet melody to herself as she did.
Mile looked on curiously, his blush deeper than before and undoubtedly obvious even through his red fur. He just couldn’t help himself around the gorgeous mare, feeling like clay to a sculptor as he watched her prepare, not quite sure just what she was doing. He tilted his head lightly as he saw her procure a glistering silver needle from a clamshell box, threading it with a long beige strand from a spool.
“Alright, let’s get to work.” She turned back to Mile with a smirk.
“O-oh, okay! Just what am I helping with here exactly… a dress inspired by my books?” He asks with a quaver in his voice, fluttering his wings briefly in excitement as the mare’s magical hue enveloped him momentarily, sweeping across his body with glittering blue sparkles and filling him with a tingly warm sensation that flowed through him like hot coffee into a mug. He gasped softly as the magic wandered across his more sensitive areas, stirring his stallionhood with a twitch.
“Hit the nail on the head there, darling.” She replied. “A dress, and many other things.”
Mile blinked in confusion as he felt the magical grip tense up around him, holding him firmly still, his eyes locked on Rarity as she rapidly approached him with the needle held aloft. The pulsating thrum of her magical aura around him and the vice grip holding him still wasn’t helping his arousal, which he would have trouble hiding at this point even if he could.
“A-ah… Rarity, don’t you need some like… fabric or something? For this? Forgive me but I don’t quite follow exactly what your pl- … mmnph.” Mile begins, only to find himself hushed by the press of an ivory forehoof against his lips.
“Shhh dear, you don’t need to worry about it, just hold still.” Rarity interjects soothingly.
The magically restrained stallion widened his eyes and gave a sharp whinny as he felt Rarity jam the needle tip into his left shoulder, the wicked point poking into his skin as easily as if it were fabric. And yet, it somehow didn’t hurt! No pain, just the bizarre sensation of thread dragging through the pinched flesh until the tiny knot came to a stop with a light tug from Rarity. She smiled to herself, looping the needle back down to the stallion again, pricking through and pulling the thread to begin a line of stitches. He felt a tingling numbness wherever the needle touched, sensation there becoming duller, drawing his fixated gaze to see his fur starting to smooth down around the stitch, the individual hairs bleaching to beige and seeming to weave themselves together into a tight knit pattern that resembled sturdy canvas, spreading wider with every stitch and forming a stark contrast against his natural red hues.
“Rarity! W-wha… what is this!” Mile squirmed in place, feeling her stretch out his left foreleg as she stitched down its length.
“I’d think it would be obvious. You’re helping me…” She replied nonchalantly, her face turning to a dark grin, a little blush showing on her snowy cheeks. “... and I’m making you mine.”
Mile felt his elbow and wrist lock up as the fabric spread over his red furred limb, pulled outward into a rigid arc, awkwardly stuck out in front of him. In a moment his shoulder seized up too, holding his now fabric encased limb in place as Rarity shifted her attention back up and onto his chest, steadily stitching, bit by excruciating bit along his body. Each stitch seemed to make his heart rush a little faster, blushing bright as he was flushed with inexplicable arousal from the bizarre situation he was finding himself in...
Rarity twisted his form in her magic, pulling him up so that he stood on his hind legs, giving her perfect reach to start stitching down his free limb, the stallion straining against her magic as she went, her spell now firmly set in as the aura faded from sight while still holding him fast. His wings stretched out behind him as his stallionhood was forced onto display, twitching stiffly in the cool air as Rarity held him up. She quirked a brow, pausing for a moment to examine him before she reached the end of his second forelimb.
“My my… Didn’t expect for you to get that into it so fast. Normally it’s not so quick… unless you were expecting something before you even got here? Hmm?” She giggled. “Or maybe it’s just something you like, and never admitted to. Is that is?” The mare teased.
“I a-ah… ah... “ Mile gulped, flustered and confused, feeling so violated and on display, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to deny it.
“I understand, I understand darling. Really, say no more.” Rarity replied.
It wasn’t long before both Mile’s forelimbs were affixed out in front of him, the ossifying grip of the fabric now spreading over his torso as she worked along him in steady lines of stitching. It felt tight almost, like a sweater two sizes too small being stretched over him, with a tingling prickly warmth everywhere that had changed fading to dullness. His neck popped and crackled as it was reared back, setting into a curve with her dutiful sewing, then her attention shifted down over his belly, pulling the forming fabric along over his body. He felt confined in his fabric form, his breath squeezed and held in a rigid shell, barely able to draw in enough to speak.
“R-rh… Rarity… p-please… I a-ah…” He gasped.
“I just said, say no more.” Rarity looked up from her work with dead seriousness. “Though you’re about at that point it seems.”
Mile shuddered as he drew in one more breath, stopped short as the magic worked from the outside in, a pressing fullness taking over his belly and chest, filling with a fuzzy rigid warmth as his biology turned to fill, robbing him of any ability to speak. Rarity nodded with satisfaction, her horn aglow for a second as she grabbed hold of his wings, both rigidly stretched out before a startling, disconcerting POP caught his ears as she wrenched each one away from his body, separating them entirely!
The stallion bucked and squirmed, looking on in silent flustered fear as she robbed him of his wings, which appeared to have pulled off with a forming metal bracket at their joint, as if they could be reattached later. She tossed them to the floor with a clatter before stitching enough that she was able to do the exact same with his tail, that appendage twitching before she pulled it away from his form, dropping to the floor into a pile beneath him.
Humming to herself once more, Rarity scanned her eyes around the room twice until she found what she was looking for; it was an empty mannequin stand off in the corner. With that stand in her magical grip she stretched the half rigid pony upward and rammed the metal pole right into his belly, the blow hitting with a WHUMP that would have maimed any normal pony. Her magic suddenly dissipated around him, the mare having decided there was no more need to forcibly hold him still.
Mile’s weight leaned forward onto the pole, its… no, his base canted at an angle, leaving propped up on his hind legs, awkwardly twisting too and fro. He shivered deeply, his cock twitching with need that he knew he couldn’t reach, his cheeks deep red as he mouthed breathlessly at his feminine captor. She had left him there for several tantalizing moments as he grappled with his vanishing control over his own body, the mare off looking through her desk for a pair of glasses. His mind roiled trying to comprehend what was happening to him.
“Here we go…” She smirked, balancing the glasses upon her snout. “Alright darling, lean forward please, I need to do your hind hooves.”
Mile shuddered, his balance already precarious with the colossally heavy metal base below him. It didn’t take much for him to tip forward with a stomach lurching motion that sent him rocketing up to perch atop the pole as he wobbled to and fro dangerously with the base’s settling physics. He was left with hindlegs dangling behind him, as he could feel the ever proceeding prick of her magicked needle working over his flanks now, tightening his hips as bones locked together to build an internal inanimate frame inside to hold the rest of his fabric form in shape, even his cutie marks starting to fade away from view, subsumed beneath the destiny changing fabric.
She pulled his left hind hoof out, holding it there as she stitched down his inner thigh, a sensation that left his cock aching and twitching with overwhelming sensation in his most sensitive area as his leg grew rigid. He had but one free limb left now, Rarity seemed to take notice of his curious sensitivity, grasping hold of that remaining leg as Mile squirmed and wiggled with fervor.
“Well now, seems you’re definitely enjoying it…” She mused deviously, dragging the point of her needle across the exposed frog of his hind hoof, sending unfathomable ticklish shivers into his rigid form. Had he the voice to do so, he would have cried out, as the needle dug in and took away his last limb, vanished into the fabric.
“But there’s another thing to deal with here… can’t have one of these on one of my models.” She giggled, lightly stroking down the length of his shaft with a forehoof, lifting up his balls and then letting them fall back to gravity. “That’d just get in the way. So let’s see what we can do about it.”
The mare pondered for a moment and brightened once the idea had struck her! She turned and pulled a small box out from a drawer in her cupboard, hidden secretly beneath her own garments. From it she pulled what appeared to be a paint brush, dark in color, with shiny paint upon its tip already. She held it up in front of his face for him to see, and smell as well, the scent of silicone rubber hitting his nose. That wasn’t paint!
She then disappeared behind him, out of view. In a moment he felt a warm, wet tingly touch at the tip of his shaft that filled him with a swelling rigidity unlike any he’d felt before, the mare swirling and twirling the rubbery tip of the brush down his length, which squeezed him in unspeakable ways as his flesh compacted into springy silicone. It seemed to make him even more sensitive than before, the gentle touch of the brush sending mind bending spasms through his rigid body, causing him to shudder slightly upon his stand with what little motion he had left. The silicone brush spread downward over his orbs, skin tightening into firm rubber at his base, tantalizingly thick and springy.
“There we go…” Rarity says quietly, placing a hoof against his sensitive rubber shaft before grasping hold and wrenching sharply, a sudden POP striking him to his core as his own cock separated from his form. The stallion’s face was pure flustered shock, unable to fathom what had just happened. Somehow, despite the distance now between him and his inanimate member, he could still feel the mare’s touch, sparking with electric pleasure along his length, his tongue almost hanging from his mouth as he processed the sensation.
Rarity took a moment to admire the new toy her special brush and magic had created, squeezing his rubbery length in her magic as she hefted it about. The mare relished the reaction painted on Mile’s face and imagined the noises he would be making if it were at all possible for him to make them. She grinned impishly, holding lofting his silicone shaft in front of his face, and pressing its cool rubber tip against his own lips.
“Open up dear.” Rarity said soothingly, before she pressed hard with her new toy, forcing down into Mile’s muzzle.
He was met with an explosion of sensation the likes of which he had never known, feeling the warmth of his own muzzle and throat tightly squeezing around his rigid shaft, rocking in and out with a deft motion with Rarity’s pulsating magic. He shuddered deeply, barely able to think as she quickly pulled his slickened length out as quickly as she had shoved it in, looking him in the eye with a devil’s smile.
“Here comes the rest.”
Rarity’s flipped his now quite thoroughly slickened shaft around and slipped out of view behind him, the sound of her hoof steps reaching over to what he assumed must be her bed. He shivered in place, mind racing as he felt the pulsing magic on his silicone cock, then the smooth sensation of warm fabric as she dove into her covers. It didn’t take but a moment before his eyes widened as he felt himself press up against her quivering entrance and pressed into her depths.
The mare moaned out behind him, his eye twitching as his mouth hung breathlessly open, feeling her tense and quivering tunnel squeeze around his shaft, hot and slippery. Back and forth, in perfect rhythm Rarity made use of his inanimate cock to bring herself up to the precarious plateau, shuddering on the edge before crashing over it with a passionate cry that filled the room. He too was on the edge, but his state wouldn’t allow him to take it beyond, leaving his mind numb and desperate for release as she mare finished with him, unable to protest, unable to finish off himself.
“Now let’s get you finished, so that I can finally get to work!” She panted and giggled, slowly pulling herself from the bed and setting his cock on her bedside table, the cool flow of air around the room upon his still wet silicone shaft tantalizing his senses. The sun was fading into darkness outside now as the mare stepped around in front of him, leaning in close to lay a gentle kiss upon his snout before she began pulling the thread up along his neck once more.
His spine grew stiff, locking his head forward in place as his ears tightened and shifted, the thick fabric spreading up, over his scalp, but beneath his mane, which soon slid off like a wig. Rarity pulled that aside, setting it with the rest of his detached pieces, and pulling the needle through Mile’s lips, dutifully stitching them together as his mouth smoothed shut, jaw seizing up beneath the fabric.
He felt a bead of sweat roll down his brow as his eyes crossed, the mare gleefully holding the needle right in front of them before stitching up his nose. It was mere moments before the fabric shifted up and over his eyes, sending his vision into dim, beige fuzziness, as if he were looking through a sheet of thin cloth, eyes stuck facing forward. All shuddering movement within him ground to a halt as his body settled into inanimacy, all sound from the room muffled like his ears were crammed full of cotton. His mind roiled and swam, unbelieving, unsure just how to processes what Rarity had done to him.
He was trapped.
Trapped in his own inanimate body, nothing more than a mannequin, a tool for Rarity’s art.
“There we go.” She says with glee, as she patted the side of his rigid cheek, her magic already pulling out reams of fabric and pins for the ideas in her head, the ones she had gotten from his books.
“You wouldn’t do it to me!” Rainbow Dash said with a teasing grin.
“Dash, if you push me…”
“You said griffons eat ponies, G! I don’t believe you! Do it!” Rainbow Dash giggled playfully.
“… you asked for it!” Gilda narrowed her eyes and crouched down, wiggling her haunches as her predatory gaze locked onto the grinning blue pony before pouncing and tackling her down to the floor in a heap, talons gripping the mare, one around the back of her neck and the other her midriff.
“A-ah! Oh… ho!” Dash laughed and struggled beneath the griffon that pinned her. “So you do have some mettle! I thought you were just full of feathers and hot air!”
“I warned you not to push me.” Gilda replied with serious tone as she leaned down to grasp Dash firmly by the neck with her beak and started to drag her like fresh prey out of the room.
Dash gasped sharply as she was gripped, unable to help blushing. The griffon’s beak was harsh, she could feel the pointed tip poking into her skin dangerously, and any time she made any move to struggle the griffon would reflexively bite down harder, forcing her to lay limp as she was dragged across the floor, soon finding herself in the kitchen.
The griffon released the mare from her beak but grasped the back of the pony’s head with her sharp talons, pressing it against the cool floor to keep her subdued. She reached with her free talon to pull open a drawer and produced a length of twine-like rope, uncoiling it with her claws. Gilda shifted her stance over the prone mare, releasing her head just long enough to grasp the mare’s ankles together and forcefully pull them up behind her head with quite a yank.
“A-ah! Ow! Hey!” Dash whined.
Gilda paid no mind to the protestations of the mare as she looped a coil of the thick twine around her ankles and cinched it tight. She grabbed the back of Dash’s head again and shoved it forward, bending her over her middle and leaving her with her muzzle pressed down toward her marehood, Dash blushed uncontrollably now as she felt her hot breath blow over her sensitive folds. In a last move, Gilda tugged her forehooves around behind her and bound them tightly together with twine, effectively bundling the mare into a contorted smaller package, wriggling and squirming on the floor beneath her feathery friend.
“There. Now I can get you prepped!” Gilda nods, stepping over the pony and heading to a large oven embedded into the wall, setting the dials and temperature with soft electronic beeps to 375° f.
“Prepped, huh! What, are you some kind of pony chef?” Dash teased while she wriggled in place, twisting and flexing, testing the binding that Gilda had placed her in. She could do little more than wobble back and forth and waggle her hind hooves about behind her thanks to the tight twine that held her securely… G knew how to tie a knot! She’d play along with the game though, this was more fun than they’d had in awhile the mare thought and giggled, blushing deeply as her attention was drawn back to her marehood, tantalizingly close in front of her.
“I guess you could say that! Maybe not a ‘chef’ like Gustave, but I think I’m pretty good.” She grinned wickedly and produced a startlingly large pan from a cupboard, one that could clearly hold a full grown pony. The griffon set the pan down on a nearby countertop and then approached Dash once more, grasping hold of the lightweight mare and hefting her up and into the pan with a thwump!
“Oof! Where’d you even get a pan like this, G! What’s it actually for…?” Dash wondered playfully, her mind drawn to the cold metal beneath her as her eyes darted around the kitchen, following the griffon as she pulled out sacks of carrots and potatoes from the larder and brought them over to the counter.
“Uh, it’s a pony roasting pan. For roasting ponies… d’uh?” Gilda replied, shaking her head and cutting the eyes from the potatoes and roots from the carrots with a small knife. She rinsed them quickly and then set them around Dash in the pan, packing them in around the edges and tucking her tail in. “And I bought it. From a store! What kinda dumb question is that!”
“Well what’s next then, Chef Gilda.” Dash blushed brightly, a huff of warm breath blowing over her already moistened slit and making her shiver. The bondage and the roleplay was getting to her.
“Glaze.” Gilda replied distractedly as she dug around in the refrigerator before she brought over a pot and a ladle.
“Yeah but what kind!”
“Chili lime! I keep some of this prepped for just this sort of occasion… it’s sweet and spicy.” Gilda said as she dipped the ladle into the sauce and began slowly drizzling it over the mare.
“A-ah! Cold!” Dash twitched and shivered as the cold sticky fluid ran over her exposed flanks. The sauce poured over her head, dripping down around her as it ran through all her crevices, the spiciness of the chilis and acidic tone of the lime making her skin tingle a bit. Enough of the sauce was poured that it pooled up into the pan beneath her and filled it considerably, leaving the mare sitting in a sticky and frigid soup of vegetables.
“Of course it’s cold, dweeb. It just came out of the refrigerator!” Gilda rolled her eyes, bringing a talon up to Dash’s rump and swirling the sauce around, working it into the mare. “But you won’t be cold for too much longer.” The griffon says ominously.
“Aaahah… ooah…” Dash moans incoherently as she felt the griffon’s warm wandering talon as a marked contrast against the cold sauce all over her. In a moment Gilda spread the sauce right over her marehood, and forced a probing digit into her folds, eliciting a sharp and flustered whinny from the mare.
“What, you like that? You like being prepped and readied to be my meal? Sicko.” Gilda says darkly with a grin across her beak. She pressed another thick scaled digit down into Dash, massaging and forcing the tingling sauce down into her, which started to have a tantalizing burn to it.
“Mnnphh… A-ahh.. G-gilda…” Dash groans, squirming in place and sloshing the contents of the pan as she took a deep breath, her eyes rolled back in the blissful sensation her unyielding culinary bondage and the ministrations of the griffon’s talons. “I… a-ah… I do…!”
“Figured as much.” The griffon said dismissively as she penetrated the mare with her digits, pressing her knuckles in and brushing over her sensitive clit with the force. “You always seemed the type. Brash and bold on the outside, but at the end of the day you’re just a piece of delicious meat, aren’t you?”
“A-aahamnnph…” Dash moaned, feeling herself easily upon the edge from the confluence of so many sensations upon her form. “Y-yes!”
Gilda slid her digits in and out of the mare, using her other talon to further spread the sticky sauce all over her bound form. She chuckled to herself darkly as she felt Dash tense up beneath her talons, the mare groaning as her tunnel quivered around her digits before spasming into tumultuous climax, the mare squirting a little of her own juices that dripped down and mingled with the spicy sauce.
“Mnn… a-ah…” Dash panted, wrapped up in the utter ecstasy of the moment, but her ears perked up as she heard a loud double beep come from the oven beyond.
“Well, you know what that means.” Gilda said, drawing her digits out of the squirming mare and glancing to the oven. “It’s time.”
“Mnnn… a-ah… Gilda, that was fun, heh…” She sighed softly, the afterglow of orgasm clouding her mind as she breathed slowly. “Y-you can untie me now I guess…”
“What?” Gilda quirks her head to the side quizzically. “That’d ruin all my hard work.”
“V-very funny, G…” Dash giggles lightly.
“I don’t think it’s funny. But…” Gilda grasped hold of either edge of the pan that contained Rainbow Dash and the other prepped ingredients, her tail twisting out behind her to pull the oven open, which let a rolling blast of heat wash out into the kitchen. The griffon grunted slightly as she hefted Dash up and set her down on the open door which supported her nicely, facing out. “… it will be delicious. Or you will, anyway!”
“W-wha… Hey!” Dash widened her eyes as she felt the heavy blaze of the heated elements behind her, a bead of sweat rolling down her brow as she twisted and tried to pull away from the heat. “Gilda! Y-you’re not actually…”
“Of course I am.” Gilda said coolly as she grabbed onto Dash’s muzzle with a talon to force it open, pressing one her digits down onto her tongue, the taste of the sauce and her own flavors sharp upon the mare’s tongue. Gilda’s tail whipped around once more, this time with an apple that she deftly tossed and caught with her right talon, holding it up and looking it over in the warm light. “Perfect.”
Gilda pressed the apple into Dash’s jaw, forcing it painfully wide so that her teeth sank into the flesh of the fruit, wedging it in to keep her from being able to spit it out. The sweet juice from the apple rolled over her tongue as she pleadingly gasped in fear at the griffoness, and yet… her blush had not yet dissipated.
“Mnnph!! GMMPHH!!” Dash gave a muffled grunt.
“What was that? Shouldn’t speak with your mouth full, Dash.” The griffon teased. “Anyway… I’ll see you in a couple hours!”
Gilda put her talons upon the edge of the pan and gave it a forceful shove, sending the mare back into the scorching body of the oven, already encompassed in an envelope of fiery air that tingled her skin.
She was actually doing it… She was ACTUALLY doing it! Gilda was cooking her! Nonono… this can’t be happening. Dash’s mind raced, thinking this surely was an elaborate joke on behalf of the griffon, a prank perhaps, any moment she’d yank her out of the oven and they’d both have a laugh!
Her heart sank then as Gilda turned around and kicked the oven door shut with a hind paw, slamming with a heavy thud and a CLICK as the locking door latched closed.
Dash could see out the door for a moment, watching the griffon lick her talons before disappeared from view, the heat building back up now that the door was closed, forcing the mare to shut her eyes to the warm glow of the elements. The cold sauce was warming up… and it wouldn’t be long now until she was cooking too. Her darkest fantasy come to life… her game turned real.
In spite of everything, she couldn’t help but give a quiver of pleasure.
Gilda was right about her.
She’d be delicious.
Gilda set the timer on the oven and licked her talons a moment, savoring the taste before turning to pad out of the kitchen to find a nice sunny place to nap, ignoring the muffled sounds from within the appliance.
Poison Trail awoke slowly, the bright light of day piercing into his maladjusted eyes. He shivered in place, a tight cold embrace gripping him from all sides as he blinked into consciousness. His vision came into focus, blurry at first, becoming sharper as every moment passed until he could make out his surroundings.
It took him a moment to realize but it seemed he was… upside down? Or at least, his perspective made it appear that way as he tried to make sense of where he was. As he became more aware of his body, he felt he was bent strangely, as if curled around himself and held tight in a vice. He shivered, a strange feeling washing over him from head to tail, trying to move with a muffled groan and finding very little of his body responding as it should
It hit him with a wave of frustrated pleasure, feeling his mouth was stuffed full… not by something… but by himself! He gulped, a tantalizing sensation washing over his cock, finding it firmly lodged inside his muzzle, almost painfully erect and filling his throat. He tried reflexively to pull away, but found his movement impeded by that vice grip of whatever was holding him.
He let out a garbled whinny, his cock blocking most of his ability to make any sounds and certainly precluding any attempts at speech. He twisted and bucked as much as he could, succeeding only at teasing himself, twitching his tail, and wriggling his hind hooves below the ankle. Breathing heavily, his mind was clouded trying to make sense of it all, the sensation of his hot moist breath upon his exposed balls that draped over the end of his snout not helping him think. Try though he may, he wasn’t able to budge his forehooves that were stuck and held behind him, and all his strain to uncurl himself from his upside down position proved entirely impossible, only serving to wear him out and leave him huffing around his twitching cock, tasting himself and feeling every motion very keenly.
It seemed he was stuck, quite literally. Firmly planted inside an object of nebulous origin that seemed to be made of solid stone. He shivered deeply, his cock aching within his mouth and tempting him to suckle upon its length. He steeled his resolve and gazed around, noting his surroundings.
A garden of some sort, is what he could see. Long rows of dense hedges in labyrinthine form stretched around him as far as he could see, twisting around a gravel path and many trenches adorned with flowers of all sorts. Leaves rustled and flitted about in the cool wind, which blew lightly over his own exposed form, rump open to the air. He pricked his ears, the gentle sound of metal clad hooves approaching down the gravel pathway caught his attention. He gulped, trying to twist and shift his hind hooves enough that he could see around them from where he sat encased so as to tell just who was approaching.
“Poison Trail.” A soft and ethereal voice began, familiar and friendly, yet with a dark tone about it that sent a shudder into the trapped pony.
Poison winces, recognizing the voice and dreading just what they had to say… He glances his eyes up, seeing the form of Princess Celestia looming above his awkward predicament, almost blocking out the light from the noonday sun overhead as she gazed down on him.
“Surely you knew your deeds would catch up with you eventually. I know you well enough to know that you’re not that naïve.” She says with cool tone, near expressionless.
“I cannot allow the wild magic of Everfree to escape its confines into my realm, which is what you seem bent upon, sowing these seeds of chaos into the good lives of my subjects. You may think it a joke, you may take it upon yourself as your raison d'être here…” The princess says, musing lightly on the pony before her as she raised a hoof to touch Poison’s exposed rump, right upon his poison joke cutie mark, caressing lightly with the cold golden surface of her shoe.
“It ends here, Poison. This is my Garden. The Garden of Victory, victory over discord. Over chaos. Over wickedness.” She starts. “Over you. Though your deeds may not rank as highly as the deeds of others that I keep here, I won’t allow them to go unpunished.” The Princess says, her brow narrowing as her tone grew darker.
“This is where you will remain until such time as I believe that you’ve changed.” She leans down to look Poison directly in his eyes. “Not permanent, at least, but indefinite. As long as it takes. I sentence you to this role as an object within my Garden, a useful one. Just as you’ve put my little ponies into predicaments, I have put you into one here.” She says resolutely.
Poison widens his eyes, trying to make sense of just what she was saying. He attempted to speak back, but could do little more than groan and mumble around his engorged cock that was lodged in his throat, huffing heavily and shuddering at how it felt to try. What did she mean ‘useful’
“You won’t want for water or food, I’ve seen to the enchantments. And you certainly won’t be able to escape yourself…” She grins lightly, running her hoof over Poison’s exposed balls, down to his nose, lifting the orbs in her touch.
“… and don’t forget, I can always make this punishment worse.” She gives him a painful tug before letting go, turning her back on the muffled, whining pony, walking back up the gravel path to the Palace.
Before he even had a chance to think about the position he now knew he was in, the clink of armor and crunch of hooves in the gravel came back to his ears, noticing a pair of Royal guards approaching, their armor glinting in the sunlight, and from his lower vantage point… they were eager to begin making use of him.
Sylvan’s hoofsteps echoed about the storied halls of the Cloudsdale Museum of Art, though they were growing a little lethargic in pace. The stallion yawned lightly, he’d been browsing the masterpieces within for several hours at this point, his focus wandering from painting to sculpture to pottery, even to a curious exhibit of antique chairs and tables. The light outside had begun to fade as sunset approached, the stallion stopped momentarily to look out at the beautiful hues high in the clouds as sleepiness was overcoming him.
He figured it would be best to start looking for the exit of this place… but it was a veritable labyrinth to him, with long snaking corridors, split levels, and little rhyme or reason about the placement of doors and hallways; as was often the case with Pegasus architecture. He huffed, blowing his mane out of his face as he spots a comfortable looking bench across from an empty plinth in the statuary hall, shuffling over to it and sitting himself down with a contended sigh, deciding to rest his hooves for just a few moments. As he sat he felt the weight of his eyelids drooping shut, and before he knew it, he’d inadvertently fallen asleep on that bench, somewhat hidden in the shadows by a column.
The museum staff checked the list of entries and exits of ponies who had signed in and found no discrepancies as they locked the doors for closing, sending a short announcement over the loud speakers just to be doubly sure there was nobody left inside the museum. What they hadn’t realized was that Sylvan had forgotten to sign in, and as such was unknown to the staff, the docent having been on a brief break when Sylvan came in earlier that afternoon.
After a few hours Sylvan blearily rubbed his eyes and stretched as he stirred from his sleep on the bench, blinking rapidly as he looked around. Most of the lights were off, only the dim sconces above the statues and plinths nearby were still illuminated. He leans out, gazing around until he spots a window, groaning as he notices the starry night sky beyond and the dim glow of Luna’s moon through the frosted glass. He hops to his hooves and shuffles back through the museum to find the exit, but when confronted with the door he sees that it is completely locked… jiggling the handle made little difference with the old mechanical lock that the door was built with, it seemed he was well and truly stuck in the museum until somepony came along the next morning and opened it up for him. Sighing deeply the pony turns and forlornly wanders the halls, forgotten in the museum.
Syvlan went from exhibit to exhibit, reading all the cards over that he had seen earlier that day to pass the time, but finding himself growing more and more bored with every passing minute. He didn’t like being locked alone in the museum with nopony to talk to and nothing to do. Eventually he finds himself back where he had been napping earlier, back in front of the empty plinth.
The Pegasus noticed something he hadn’t seen before, a small stone block sitting atop it, square in shape with sloped sides. It was of a curious marble with purplish tint, quite unlike any he’d ever seen before, and interspersed throughout it were glistering veins of what almost looked to be gold. It couldn’t be real gold, could it? He leans in closer to examine it, poking it with a hoof.
With a grin and a giggle he gets an idea, perhaps to fulfill some fantasy that he’d had on his mind for many years. While he knew for sure he was alone, he still glances twice over his shoulders before stepping up onto that plinth, firmly planting one of his hind hooves onto that square of marble. He rears onto his hind hoof, precariously balancing upon it as he lifted his other hind hoof and posed himself into an artful position, imagining just what it would be like if there were a statue of him in the museum. He laughs lightly, feeling a strange contended sensation washing over his being as he lets out a sigh, it was almost easy to maintain the pose he was holding, finding very little strain upon his muscles. He pulls a foreleg up to his chest, raising the other up and out, completing the pose.
An odd tingle began to follow, bubbling up within him like soda-pop as a latent enchantment within the stone he stood upon activates fully. He didn’t notice it at first, finding himself growing relaxed in his pose… but something didn’t seem quite right. He could move his limbs, but it almost felt like he was encountering rubbery resistance to the motion. He’d stretch his hooves back down, wiggle them about, but some magical force sprung them right back into the pose he’d made when he stepped atop the plinth and the square. “Wha… what’s going on with this thing?” He groans, glancing downward toward his hoof, only tobe met with a startling sight. With a yelp and widening eyes he sees the purple tinted color of the stone rising up into his hoof, the bottom of that hoof seeming to have fused with the marble, sinking down a millimeter as it smooths up over his hoof and creeps onto his leg.
It was cold, tight, and filled with that bubbly tingle as the magic worked into him, squeezing his hoof and compacting it in a stony embrace as he felt the life and motion draining away from the limb. He jerks and twists, the rubbery pose keeping him from bending too far as the cold hug of the stone rose up over his leg and onto his crotch, causing him to gasp in shock, blush rushing to his cheeks as he felt the stone squeeze him in curious places, fur smoothing down into polished stone that took on the veined hue and golden glister of the square he had fused with.
He forces his forehooves down, turning his back to look himself over as his tail succumbs, all motion from his waist down slowing to a halt with the tentative sound of grinding stone, watching in a mixture of horror and pleasure from the unfathomable sensations that had befallen him, wriggling his hoof tip as it creaks and crackles, forming into its permanent pose.
It felt almost like being submersed in cold liquid mercury, a tremendous weight squeezing him in from all sides and a tight chill rushing up over the affected parts of his body as the stone crept ever onward.
The elasticity of his pose pulling his hooves back up to where they had been artfully placed minutes prior. He scrunches his nose, blushing deeply as the wave of stone crackles over his belly, compacting his fur into veined marble as he feels his joints and spine grinding, the elasticity vanishingand being replaced with rigidity, squirming and flexing as much as his body would allow as he rocked precariously on the plinth.
It was not long before he was up to his neck and his motion settled, his spine fused into stone leaving him with just his ears, expression, and the tip of his forehoof left mobile. With a crackling pop, the tip of his forehoof vanished into the encroaching purple and gold, which was striped all over his shining body like a carved, polished zebra of stone and gold. He gasps, the thick weight of the stone reaching inward to his organs, air expelled from his lungs as his chest became a solid mass of marble up to his neck. Blushing furiously he flicks his ears, mute now, unable to call for aid; not that there was any to come to his rescue...
He steels his resolve as the spell works onto his chin and over his lips, the feeling of his jaw fusing shut and the cold tight grip of stone overtaking his muzzle inside and out with the alien sensations of inanimate existence overwhelming his mind. Sylvan furrows his brow as the stone reaches over him like a rising tide, capturing his eyes as it swept over his face, smoothing his features down and leaving him in mere moments an anonymous statue of stone and gold. His eyes were locked forward, still able to see, but dimmed in his vision, the grain and veins of stone a transparent hue over what he could see.
He could hear too, but muffled, as if through a thick stone wall; not that there was anything to hear in the silent museum. He felt the last crackles as the stone settles into his body, one last shiver shuddering through him before all went still, the magic spent. The Pegasus was stuck, his mind reeling on that fact, unable to fully comprehend what it meant. Try as he might, not an inch of him responded to his mind’s desperate attempts to move, feeling the tenseness of his muscles vanishing away, his pose permanently forced upon him.
It felt oddly comforting, feeling his body settle into the form and his temperature equalizing over the hours that followed until the last of his body warmth had dissipated from the cool stone he had become. Nopony gave him a second glance the next morning as guests and staff alike walked past him. None could hear his mental pleas for help and attention as they walked by, admiring him, some taking pictures. The staff never questioned the arrival of a new statue in their collection, while nopony admitted to being the one who set it up, they figured it was just one of the many pieces of the museum’s collection that weren’t documented in their catalog; it often seemed like artifacts appeared from nowhere in their collection, so it wasn’t unusual to them.
Without his name on the sign in sheets, it was never known to look for him here, and even if it were there was little left to indicate that the statue he’d become had ever been a pony, his features smooth and polished over. After a few days the trapped pony stopped pleading for help, knowing it would never come. He resigned to finding the positives of his permanent predicament. He’d never age, never ail, never die… he was appreciated too, albeit as a work of art, merely an inanimate object and nothing more. Every so often he was polished by the staff, the touch and interaction filling his stony heart.
He’d have all the time in the world to get used to it, all the time to think…
Saga trots slowly up through the mist of the brisk autumn morning to the door of the newly opened Canterlot Boutique, holding a flyer beneath her wing. She glances down at it idly in the dawn’s light and then looks back toward the door, pondering if she should even bother with this. The Boutique was asking for volunteer models, with a reward of a free dress. It was just for fun, chance of a nice dress, doesn’t matter if she was turned away for having less than no experience! Certainly couldn’t hurt- With that thought she pushes through the door of the boutique, a small bell chiming above her as she steps inside.
She gazes around the immaculate interior, glitteringly polished floors, and beautiful architecture inside. A number of dress forms stood silently in alcoves around the wall, with a single one empty. Where were all the dresses…? She wondered as movement caught her eye. A tall, impeccably fashionable, and blue furred mare backed up through a brightly coloured curtain pulling a cart of hanging dresses along with her, each one shimmering in the lowly light that filtered in through the windows.
The mare stops in her tracks, turning to see the green Pegasus standing in the shop.
“What are you doing here? We don’t open until eight. It’s seven thirty.” She states flatly, looking monumentally unamused by the unannounced visitor.
“Oh… Really? My apologies, my clock must be fast.” Saga replies, ruffling her wings and turning to head out.
“Wait, are you here about the flyer?” The tall mare asks, noting the paper that Saga held with her.
“Well, um, yes! Yes, I saw it the other day and thought… you know, why not… and-“
“Excellent! Please come right this way!” The mare perks up with strange speed, motioning Saga to follow. “I’m Sassy Saddles, manager of the Boutique! Though I’m sure you knew that already.”
Saga didn’t, but nods along, following in. “I’m Saga! So, do you want me to try out some poses, or…”
“Nonono, you’ll do just fine. Please, stand right here.” Sassy states, pulling a book from a nearby shelf and shuffling through the pages.
“Oh! Really…?” Saga blinked, moving to stand in the spot.
“Mmhmm.” Sassy replies distracted, before her horn alights in a warm yellowish glow, casting that glittering aura out and around Saga in a rough circle.
“Er, what’s the magic for?” The Pegasus asks, seeming rather confused.
“All just part of the modelling! Now try to hold still until you no longer have to, if you would please.”
Before Saga could reply in questioning she found herself mired in the magic, held in place by its spectral force as three long needles appeared in front of her eyes, glittering in the light of magic. Like a flash they zip into movement and pierce the skin of her hind hooves! What should have been painful though was but a tingling warm discomfort, even so causing a great dismay in the pony.
“W-wha! What are you doing?” She whinnies.
“Dear, please, I said hold still.” Sassy replies, tightening the grip of her magic to hold the Pegasus in place as the needles begin to poke their way up the mare’s legs, pulling a brown thread with them.
As the stich progressed over her hind hooves, they were drained of most of their colour, hoof and fur giving way to a strange canvas like fabric that crept upward, stitch by stich, stiffening her legs as it went along. The third needle pricks its point just above her tail, stitching its way up along her spine and dragging the fabric covering with it. She shivers in the grip of the magic, thrashing quickly and desperately in an attempt to make her way out of the glowing ring of magic- without much success.
Her hind legs seem to stretch out stiffly and lock in place, try as she might she was now unable to force them to bend. Stitches now made their way all the way up her flanks, prick after prick; her cutie marks both vanished beneath the creeping canvas cloth that was slowly enveloping her in the spell. The needles flit through the air, replenished with thread to ply their magic upon her wings and over her chest.
“G-gah! Stop! Please!” Saga feebly waves her hooves, trying to swat the needles away to no avail. This was wrong, not what she expected, not what any pony would expect!
“It’ll stop when it’s done.” Sassy replies flatly, channeling the spell with greater speed and efficiency. The spell forces her wings out rigidly as feathers give way to cloth, her belly and chest following suit as the needles continue their march. She feels a fuzzy sensation inside her as her hind limbs and body begin to fill with densely packed cotton stuffing, gagging lightly as it wells up in the back of her throat when the needles move upward. Her forelegs involuntarily spread forward, stock still against her will as they’re sewn into the encroaching cloth.
Sassy nods, looking over her work as she floats the mare upward off the ground and slides a metal post beneath her. Saga’s eyes widen with fright as she’s dropped heavily onto the pole, impaling her fluff filled body and leaving her atop the post like a plush carousel horse.
“A-ah! What are you doing to me!” Saga practically shouts, her voice hoarse and raspy from the cotton that lurked behind it.
“Shh, do be quiet, you’re nearly done. No need to say a word.” Sassy laughs lightly, moving the needle in front of Saga’s muzzle. In a flash it threads through her lips painlessly and stitches them together, flesh merging into the featureless cotton muzzle of a dress form.
“Mnnph! Mnngggh!” She mumbles, garbled by the stiches and the upwelling of cotton that now filled her mouth and muzzle from within.
“Oh, nearly forgot, won’t be needing these!” Sassy muses aloud as she pulls Saga’s tail and wings right from her rigid body as if they had only been held on by metal clasps— which now would be the case. She sets them to the side in a small pile.
Saga shakes her body with all the strength that remains, succeeding only in rocking the metallic base a bit into a wobble from her perch atop it. Her voice now completely gone, she could only watch as the cloth slides and stitches up over her face, locking her head in its position and obscuring her vision. She could see slightly, but her sight was muddled and shrouded darkly beyond as if she were staring through thin fabric, stuck forward in gaze. She feels her mane removed in a similar fashion to her tail and wings as the last of the magic smooths any remaining uniqueness and features from her face and body, settling into its now inert and inanimate form.
Sassy reaches up with a hoof as she closes her book, the glow fading away from her horn and the needles vanishing. She gives the cheek of the dress form a pat, speaking softly.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be put to good use- thank you for volunteering to be a model here at the Canterlot Boutique!” She pauses. “You’ll get the free dress as the flyer promised, when I let you out eventually. Maybe in a year or two… of course, assuming I even remember which one you are by then.”
The tall blue mare gives a giggle and slides the former pony into the open alcove; she was utterly indistinguishable from the rest of the dress forms as Sassy gathers up the detached pieces to take into storage. Saga was alone with her thoughts, reeling yet frozen in place and set to be naught but an object for display in a ritzy Canterlot shoppe…
… Perhaps indefinitely.
It's Good to be The King (OC Stallion, King Grover, CTF)
Vex shivered in the chilled dark of the dungeon cell in which he had found himself- never would the pegasus have expected to be facing the situation that was now upon him. A tribute? To the griffons of all things… not any griffon, King Grover himself. He’d never seen the griffon King, but he had heard of just how fierce he was reputed to be, and his armies were known across the land to be the most skilled and terrifying that could be faced.
Perhaps that is why the tribute had been called. The Celestial Diarchy must have been threatened by King Grover and knew that their newly established Guard couldn’t face off the strength of the griffons, Vex pondered to himself in the darkness. That must be why they had called for this primitive ritual… he’d been chosen by random lot to be the one sent to Griffonstone to appease the warlike nature of the King and ensure peace between the Kingdoms. He never felt like a lucky soul, but truly this luck was the worst he’d ever had.
What would they do to him, he wondered. Was he to be held as a captive worker? No, he was the only tribute pony, and while surely more would follow in years to come it was just him now. No, they wouldn’t use a single pony as a worker. Maybe they meant for him to be a curiosity? Part of the King’s menagerie, to be ogled and gocked at like a zoo critter for the rest of his life. Vex shuddered at the thought; it seemed like something a King like Grover might do to a pony, and he was a unique specimen for sure, his coat a stony grey, born defective without wings, but still keeping the distinctive feathers in his tail that marked his breed of mountain pegasi.
A sudden clank from the door jarred his thoughts, the pegasus jumping slightly, rattling the chains around his hooves. Bright light flooded the cell as the thick wood and wrought iron door creaked open and two armored griffons stepped through. The made their way to him, one male, one female by the looks of their plumage, mottled with greys and brown, and clad in identical sets of polished bronze armor that bore a winged crest upon the breast, orange plumes cocked high atop their helmets.
“On your hooves, pony.” The female spoke sharply.
Vex looked her over for a moment, eyes darting between her and the male as he approached with the key for the locks that held him tethered to the cell wall. His mind raced to think up a plan, if he could push through these two with haste the moment he was unlocked, he could throw the door shut behind him and make a dash through the-
“I said on your hooves!” The female guard roared, grabbing hold of the nape of Vex’s neck with her talon and heaving him up with apparent ease, his eyes growing wide at her surprising strength. She held him painfully tight, her wicked talons held perilously on his throat, preventing any chance of escape as the male guard unshackled him and bucked a thick collar onto his neck, tightening it into place and attaching a chain lead to a ring hung from its edge.
“Now get moving! To the hall!” The guard forcefully let go, whipping her tail harshly to hit his flank.
Vex stumbled out into the light of the corridor, the two griffons flanking him on either side with one holding the lead and tugging his collar sharply. His hoofbeats echoed in sharp contrast to the soft steps of paws and talons as he was led up long winding staircases that spiraled upward through the hewn mountain beneath the Great Tree of Griffonstone. In any other context he might have felt at home in these stony corridors, but he dreaded what was to come, knowing he was being taken to the King.
The corridors turned from solid stone to built masonry to carved wood as the three ascended, the staircases finally ending after countless flights that left Vex panting, the griffons seemingly accustomed to the exertion. They pushed through a thick door that took them out into a lavishly decorated hall, built into the hollow innards of the great tree, the ceiling soaring higher and broader than any structure he’d seen built by the Sisters in Everfree, his breath taken for a moment in the grandeur of the space.
An immense carpet stretched the length of the hall, richly colored and warm beneath Vex’s hooves, a welcome change from the cold stone deep below. The guards took him the length of the hall to a gilded double door of tremendous size, which sat ajar enough that one could enter through it but not easily see what lay beyond. The female guard nodded to the male who tugged the chain that held Vex’s collar, indicating for him to stop where he stood as the female slipped through the door.
A trio of griffons caught Vex’s eye, standing off to the side of this grand entrance, each wearing intricately patterned robes of richly hued samite, draped around their feathery forms. They whispered amongst each other, looking pegasus over carefully but not approaching. One of the three narrowed their eyes, their purple tipped crest feathers puffing up with consternation. Vex quickly averted his gaze from the three, turning his head to look straight down at his hooves, not wishing to upset anyone important here in the hall by staring at them, looking for anything at all he could do to ameliorate his situation.
The minutes seemed like hours to Vex, slowly drawing in his breath and then letting it out to calm his nerves. After an excruciating wait the female guard’s head appeared from around the edge of the door, looking toward the male guard and chirping lowly. He then tugged Vex’s chain and led him through the doors.
He kept his gaze low, jumping visibly as the doors were forced shut behind him with a resonating thud that reverberated around the smaller chamber he was now in. Slowly he looked up from his hooves to take in his new surroundings, not noticing the two guards bowed low as his gaze travelled along another carpet that led to a set of stairs reaching up to a raised platform, the summit of which was graced by an involute nest of braided limbs of vines, lined with shimmering purple silk. A griffon of startling size sat within the wreath-like nest, feathers and fur a dusty brown with a mask of cream behind a sharp hooked yellow beak. The griffon wore a scarf of flowing purple silk, marked by a golden cockade that bore the same crest as the armor of the guards that held him captive, and a dense, radiant crown of solid gold rested upon the griffon’s head, shining in the multi-hued light which shone down upon the chambers through stained windows high in the vaulted rafters.
The King… there was no doubt that this was him, Vex was certain of it. For now the King’s attention was off his side, talking in hushed tones with a smaller snowy white griffoness who wore similarly stark white robes. She glanced down at the pony for a moment before focusing back on the King as they spoke secrets betwixt them that he couldn’t hope to hear. She produced a small corked vial of clear fluid and held it out to the King, who took it in an immense talon and looked it over pensively in the light.
A glint of light captured the attention of the enthralled pony, looking to the other side of the King and seeing what looked like a tremendous chalice of glistering electrum, wonderously worked into the shape of a curled wing which flowed like petrified fire upon a griffon’s talon, cradling a hoof sized sphere of gemstone the likes of which Vex had never imagined, glimmering with an unearthly light of many hued bands that transfixed his eyes, radiating with a magical power and authority that he could sense palpably in the air.
Vex’s spell of wonderment was broken by the sound of a booming voice, amplified by the acoustics of the hall’s architecture.
“Will the pony not bow in my presence?” It said.
Vex’s eyes widened in fear, how could he have forgotten to do such a thing? Surely this would not be good for him…
“A-ah! Your Majesty! Please forgive me I a-ah… I was awed by the magnificence of your hall and such courtesy slipped from my mind.” He replied shakily, a bead of sweat upon his brow as he bowed deeply, his muzzle nearly touching the floor as the musty scent of the carpet assailed his nose. How could he have been so stupid, kicking himself silently within his mind for his haphazard response to the transgression.
“Is that so?” The King said, taking an excruciatingly long moment to think before continuing. “Rise, pony, that our gaze may meet.”
Without hesitation Vex looked up toward King Grover, the griffon’s piercing yellow eyed gaze seeming to look into him. He dared not say a word.
“If any of my subjects were to act so discourteously to their King, their wings would be clipped and I would have them thrown from the canopy of our Tree.” He says with assured conviction, his tone dangerous. “It seems by the look of you, only the latter act would be required.”
Vex’s heart beat rapidly, his fear visible. “Y-your Majesty, I a-ah, I would never impugne you or your throne w-willingly, please forg- ... “ He starts, voice trembling.
The pegasus was cut short by a booming laugh that echoed around the hall from King Grover, who slowly rose from the nest, his size all the more apparent as he ruffled his feathers and stretched his wings. “You amuse me, pony! Your eagerness to beg for my pardon does you well.” he starts, descending the steps beneath the nest. “But worry not wingless one, you wouldn’t be much use to me dashed upon the rocks at the base of my mountain.”
Vex swallows hard, taking a deep breath and nodding lightly as the griffon King approaches him down the steps. He finds himself looking up at the griffon who towered above him by two heads in height, his powerful frame imposing against his own. Grover rustled his feathers, now standing right before the pegasus and gazing down upon him directly. He brings a thick talon up beneath Vex’s chin, easily turning his head upward.
“Will you serve your King?” He asks plainly, face expressionless.
“Y-Yes, your Majesty...” Vex replies after a speechless moment, deciding it was best to agree now and think of escape someday later.
The edges of Grover’s beak turn up in a smile. “Good. That I what I was hoping to hear.” He says, letting go of Vex’s chin gently. “I am going to give you your first order as my subject. Will you obey me?”
Vex nods.
King Grover’s eyes narrow devilishly as he holds the small crystal vial of liquid up in front of Vex’s eyes. “Drink it.”
The pegasus looks between the vial and the King with confusion, but knows that he daren’t defy the King. He gulps, nodding slowly, lifting up a forehoof to take hold of the vial, glancing around at the other griffons in the hall- their eyes were all on him. He then inspects the vial, looking through the cut crystal facets to see the clear liquid sloshing from side to side. With slight hesitation he pulls the cork out with his teeth, letting it drop before bringing the edge of the vial to his lips and tipping it back.
He nearly gags as the liquid reaches his tongue, it was thick, rather slimy, and unexpectedly warm, with a perplexing tanginess. The pegasus shudders and forces himself to swallow, unable to help the expression upon his face, which the King seems to delight in. Vex’s stomach churns almost immediately, a bubbly feeling building up within his gut, causing him to cough and shiver before it subside, leaving behind a gentle tingle and lightheadedness, the pegasus swaying a bit from side to side on his hooves.
King Grover turned to the white griffoness and the Guards, motioning with a wing. “Leave us now.” he said firmly, the griffons rushing to obey without delay.
Vex felt a strange convulsion come over him, building up at the tip of his spine and travelling along it, making him shudder deeply as he felt his muscles tense and stiffen, heart racing as he felt blush run to his grey furred cheeks and a stirring between his legs.
“Wh-... what was in that?” The pegasus groans softly.
“A little bit of magic that my alchemist Galatia concocted. It ought to be a marvel, really, it’s rare that I get to enjoy a pony in any way.” Grover says, grinning lightly as he circles around Vex, his tail swishing from side to side eagerly. He raises a talon to Vex’s back, tracing its sharp tip along the crest of Vex’s spine, noting with great delight how the touch seemed magnified for Vex. “We shall see how it works in the end.”
Vex was barely able to listen to the King speak, his distraction clouding his mind, blood rushing to his nethers which were becoming quite noticeably engorged. He groans once more, feeling himself grow harder by the minute, blushing bright as his shaft twitches and aches, legs wobbly and trembling. “W-wha… w-what is it doing…” He murmurs, tense desire echoing in his voice as he fought the urge to raise a hoof and touch himself.
King Grover tilted his head curiously. “Mm… it’s doing what it’s meant to do. What, aren’t you enjoying it then, pony? Surely it looks to me as though you are.” He circles around the entranced blushing pony once more, his long plumed tail snaking around to reach beneath Vex and stroke his quivering shaft from base to tip, causing the pony to cry out. “Seems like you need something… no? What is it you need?”
“A-aah! A-ah… I need… Mnnhh…” The pony stammers.
“You need me, do you not? You need your King.” Grover whispers, beak close to his ear. “Just say the words.”
Vex shivers intensely, barely a moment to mull those words in his clouded mind before he responds. “Y-yes… I need you. I need you… My King.”
Grover nods with pleasure, shifting enough in front of the pony to reveal he too was aroused, the larger griffon’s cock prominently hard beneath the long brown fur of his belly, pointed and twitching with a gentle curve at its base, glistening already. The King’s feathers ruffle thickly, eyes narrowing and speaking with a throaty, rumbling growl. “Exactly what I wanted to hear.”
The griffon crouches like a predator ready to make a kill, leaping over the pony and taking him to the floor beneath him, one large talon grasping him hard by the neck and the other pinning him to the floor, rump high and exposed. Vex gasped loudly, an instinct in him to run at the sight of the predatory beast upon him snuffed out as the was pinned down. His eyes widen as he feels the tip of the King’s shaft pressed beneath his tail, the overbearing warmth from the long furred griffon above beating down as the King pressed inward, stretching the pony beneath him with his appreciable girth.
All words left the vocabulary of the pony as he was reduced to incoherent whinny and nicker, his own cock twitching, pressed between his belly and the carpet as Grover penetrated deep into him, the griffon’s pelvis rocking back and forth, working his twitching member deeper into the pony, invading the warmth within with strained pleasure. Vex could barely comprehend what was happening through the lust filled cloud that had taken over his mind, feeling there was nothing he could do but take the King in stride.
Grover growls thunderously, his wings flaring and flapping with great gusts of air as the griffon pounds into Vex’s exposed rump, member slickened and lubricated as he presses ever inward, until with a noticeable pop the partially engorged diameter of his knot makes it into squirming, whimpering pegasus beneath him. The griffon stances above him, letting forth a bellowing screech that echoed around the hall as his shaft quivered deep inside Vex, letting forth a torrent of hot seed that filled the pony with a steady flow, the knot swelling further and locking the two together.
Vex’s eyes roll back as the motions tip him over the edge as well, his flared stallionhood spurting out thick ropes of cum into the carpet below where he was pressed down, shuddering and groaning through the unspeakable pleasure he felt. But the climax didn’t seem to alleviate his feelings, in fact… they only felt magnified! The warmth inside the pony was spreading, seeming to go farther within him than it ever could, tingling with the electric sensation of magic as some spell began its work on the two.
Grover sat back on his haunches, pulling the pony back with him by the knot and rump, grasping around him with both talons as he began to rub Vex’s neck and abdomen. Vex gulped in his hazy confusion, eyes wandering downward and squirming in place, now trying to pry himself off of the griffon’s firmly anchored cock, with little success. The motions the griffon’s talons were making over him sent lightning bolts of pleasure throughout his form in ways that he could never have imagined before.
He groans softly as the connection builds between them, the magic fusing the flesh between rump and cock, the griffon’s brown fur beginning to meld over the pony’s rump. The motions distract him entirely as his hips and legs tense up, pulling his hind hooves from the ground and leaning him back into the warm grasp of the griffon. His exposed equine shaft quivered and strained, harder than he’d felt in his life, before it stuck against his belly and began to meld into it, vanishing away as the fur around his waist and flanks thins, skin taking on a reddish hue.
Vex builds up to a long winded groan, the sensations overwhelming him from the touch of the griffon’s talons and the magic building between them. He involuntarily draws his forehooves up yo his chest, the magic forcing them in closely as he squirms and pulls against it, the skin where they touched running together and fusing them against the barrel of his chest, fur vanishing around him. His groan is cut short as he finds himself gasping for breath, lungs compressing harder and harder for him to breath, before he finds it impossible to do so.
In a moment of startled horror his chest convulses, desperately trying to draw in a breath when his heart pounds heavily, achingly, before shuddering to a stop. He shivers deeply, a part of him knowing that this was profoundly wrong, feeling like he must be dying… and yet… he hasn’t. It feels distant at first, but soon he feels a new steady heartbeat building within him, circulating blood throughout his form, thumping in time with Grover, and sending a pulsing throb throughout his twisted body with every beat. He wasn’t able to draw in breath, but immediately felt himself lose the need to do so, his oxygen now coming from the griffon to whom he was fused.
Grover chirps with pleasure, stroking the pony harder now, more fur thinning away with every stroke as the pony finds himself unable to utter a sound, a swelling within him forming along his front as a new tunnel builds up out of the griffon, through his simplifying form, and connecting with his throat. Immediately a tangy, salty taste builds in the back of his throat, quite familiar to him, filling his mouth and drooling out uncontrollably. Vex tries to twist and buck, but his haunches were rounding off, the brown fur of the griffon spread over them now as his ankles and hooves were drawn inward, fusing to the swelling orbs his legs were becoming, sagging with gravity in a forming sack of skin, movement falling away.
Vex’s tail twitches and draws back within him as the skin around their fused point bunches up, forming a sheath that would soon become the pony’s new home, the hall around him starting to grow as he shrunk down in size, Grover now towering above him as the griffon’s talons gripped more and more of his body, smoothing it away into more tube-like a form, twitching and convulsing with the pumping blood and pleasure.
His forelimbs were now smoothed away, barely any trace of them left as his hind hooves soon followed suit, the fur taking over them completely. His waist began to swell, flesh pink and shiny as the remnants of his rump build into a new and sizeable knot for the King. His gaze is turned upward, neck tensing up as he’s forced to look up under the king’s chin, huge talons squeezing and stroking over his face as the fur thins there too, neck swelling thicker as his mane falls away. The pony’s jaw aches as it becomes rigid, bones softening as his lips pucker into a vertical slit, drooling with the beginnings of the hot seed welling up inside him.
His mind was beyond overwhelmed, knowing now what he was becoming and knowing that he was powerless against it… but the tremendous ecstasy he felt on every inch of his form softening the blow, the griffon’s powerful talons working him over as he shrank still, his eyes squinting as that pressure built up inside him, bubbling like lava coming to a head as his whole form pulses and throbs, forcing a torrent of sticky seed out of what had been his mouth, squirting, slipping down over the griffon’s talons and onto the carpet below with mind blowing orgasmic bliss.
The pony’s head thinned and softening into a pointed tip, his eyes sealing away behind the flesh of his cock-like form. Somehow through the magic he found himself still able to see, though blurry and only close up, looking through the rosy tint of flesh and blood, his hearing similarly muffled but present. He quivers and twitches in the afterglow, unable to fathom what had become of him…
… he was part of the griffon now. Part of King Grover, mind reeling at the fact, yet still clouded by the pleasure and ecstasy he had felt.
Minutes later he feels the pressure and pulse within him abate, his form growing softer and softer as it’s pulled back, the warm furry sheath pulling around him like a thick blanket, casting him into more darkness, and leaving him alone with his thoughts to contemplate this sensuous new prison of flesh… with no escape.
He could only wait until the King sought to use him again…
… not knowing if he could ever break free.
King Grover sighed with pleasure, looking over himself as he leaned back, panting. He took a moment to preen himself, putting his feathers back in place and regaining composure, giving himself one more solid stroke over his new equipment. More hefty than before, but not outside the natural range of a griffon his stature, he was quite satisfied, although his servants would have something of a mess to tidy in his hall.
He grinned wickedly, making his way back up to his nest throne and calling his court back in. This was definitely even better than he had thought… quite the gift from Equestria, at least, with the help of his alchemist to improve it.
It would buy them a few seasons of peace, until he demanded another tribute; he was already pondering what new and devious ways he could use the next pony.
Truly, it was good to be the King.
Chef's Special (OC Stallion, Gustave, Cooking/Implied Vore)
The air was particularly frigid that evening, cutting through Neo Mile’s rich blue fur and dark sable mane like an icy razor where he flew up, up over the high mountains of the far North of Equestria. The sun had dipped below the horizon for all that resided down in the sparse valleys that sprawled beneath him between the high mountain peaks, but was still visible from his high point in the air where he flew; he was thankful that he had goggles to protect his eyes from the biting air, but found himself wishing that he had a thick windproof flight jacket to help with the chill.
He shivered in flight, noticing as the turbulence in the air began kicking up with the departure of the sun. In the gloaming sky that stretched around him in a massive dome he picked out the first twinkle of stars before they were blotted out by forming clouds, flowing around the mountain tops and blowing south, right for him. As a Pegasus, Neo was well and truly familiar with the myriad varieties of clouds that were made for Equestrian skies, but these were different. They looked wild, unruly, untamed like a dark roiling sea as they blew in, bearing down upon him with surprising speed, and bringing extra chill and an icy fog when he entered the clouds. They weren’t normal… these were clouds from beyond the magic of Equestria, formed on their own— uncontrollable by pony magic!
Neo grimaced as the clouds closed in around him, the ice starting to form thick rime across the glass lenses of his goggles and the leading edges of his wings. He quickly tried to wipe them off, desperately flapping his wings to loose them of the rime, but in the plummeting temperatures and thick ice mist whatever he buffeted off formed back moments later. The Pegasus groaned in fear, feeling his wings losing their lift as his feathers grew heavy with ice, sensing innately that he was losing altitude. Fast.
He pushed his goggles down around his neck to un-blind him of the ice that had formed over them, casting his gaze down into the rock and snow below, barely visible. He had to find a good landing spot, quickly too, or he risked plummeting to his sure demise when his wings iced over further. He squints in the darkness, wind howling in his ears as he sees a faint glimmer of light along the edge of a cliff face, the light of fire behind windows, glinting through the colluding mist.
That light was his only hope. Neo angled his icy wings toward the light, estimating the arch of his descent would give him just enough distance to land before his wings were useless, flapping harder and harder as he went, whipped around by the wind of the storm before the sudden looming shape of a stone lodge came into view, warm light glimmering from many windows. He landed with a heavy thump into a pile of snow upon an outer balcony, teeth chattering and shivering to his core from the cold, bones aching.
Neo managed to stand up, groaning softly from the cold before he lethargically dragged a hoof up to knock on the glass door before him on the balcony. Once… twice… thrice… nobody seemed to answer it. The desperate Pegasus jimmied the door, trying to open it, and briefly thought of smashing the glass before he saw movement beyond the frosty glass.
A yellowish talon wiped away condensation that had formed on the inside to make a small circle in which an avian head popped into view. A griffon! Brown plumage with a grey beak, the smallish griffon blinked quizzically before unlatching the door and allowing Neo to spill in; accompanied by an unwelcome gust of frigid wind and a small wave of snow onto the floor.
The griffon squawks from the cold, quickly shutting the door and staring at the pony in a heap on the floor. He reaches over with a talon and pokes the Pegasus, tilting his head from side to side to get a decent view of him.
“Are you dead then? Or just mostly dead? Who are ya anyway? Hm?” The brown griffon interrogates the pony, feathers ruffling in mounting consternation. “What makes ya think y’can just come bashing on our door, eh? Ya think it belongs t’you do ya? Well it doesn’t! It’s ours! We built it, it’s ours!”
Neo groaned deeply, pulling himself back to his hooves and shivering, the ice now melting in the warmth and dripping into a puddle. He blearily blinked, mind working better in the warmth as he surveyed his surroundings. He was in a lodge of some sort, thick stone walls were covered with tapestries and aging portraits, wall sconces glittered with small fires, drawing his eyes over to the blissful warmth of a roaring hearth. The Pegasus takes a breath, looking back over to the griffon who had opened the door.
“A-ah… I’m Neo. Neo Miles. I u-um… I didn’t mean to barge in… The storm caught me off guard, this was the only place I could see for shelter, I’m s-sorry…” He mumbles, unsure quite how to respond to the angry griffon.
“Oh ya? Is that so!” The griffon ruffles his feathers, calming down a little. “Hmm… well, I suppose that’s alright.” The griffon muses before he turns around and leans his head through a nearby door. “Hey Goose! We got a visitor of sorts, says ‘e blew in on the storm! Looks like it too! A Pegasus!”
There were muffled sounds from the other room, a moment later another griffon appearing through the doorway, this one of somewhat regal bearing. He was grey and white in plumage, quite well portioned in height and weight with a thick, jagged edged yellow beak, and a tall white hat upon his head. With a swift motion he deftly thwacks the smaller brown griffon on his side with the flat of a spatula.
“Ach, Arvid, what did I say about calling me this? I say non! Absolutement non! I am Gustave le Grande to you!” He growls deeply.
Arvid gives a pained yelp as he dashes away, hiding behind a nearby chair, rubbing his side where he’d been smacked. “Hey! Ya didn’t have to hit me…” He whimpers. “Jus’ thought you’d want to know… What with the dinner situation an’ all…”
Gustave narrowed his eyes, surveying the sodden pony before raising a brow. “C’est vraiment… Ah, my pony, you come here for shelter? We oblige, perhaps, you join us for our meal. We will warm you up.”
Neo looks up, eyes moving between the two griffons before nodding timidly. “If… if it’s not an inconvenience, then that might be pretty nice…” He says, offering a smile. “Come with me then, my pony, come with me.” He gestures through the door, shooting a deathly glare at Arvid who wilts behind the chair upon seeing it. “To my kitchen, there is wine here to revive you.”
Neo follows along behind the large griffon, seeing a very well apportioned kitchen sprawl around them, with many rows of knives, pans, pots, and other kitchen implements of curious design. Most striking of all was a huge hooded oven, built into the wall with cast iron grates and doors. He wondered to himself what they could possibly be cooking on such a huge oven… certainly wasn’t vegetables! He watched eagerly as Gustave popped the cork on a dark bottle of wine, his form and spread wings blocking the view of the pouring before he turned and presented a glass vessel, somewhat resembling a pestle, presenting it to Neo who eagerly took it and sipped the warming wine.
“Goodness… this is good, thank you sir. It’s exactly what I n-needed.” He sighs softly, feeling himself become more relaxed by the second. “What a-are you going to cook here? I heard the other fella say something about dinner…”
“Ah, you will see, my pony. You will see.” The griffon replied darkly, a grin crossing his beak.
Neo squinted, feeling himself relaxing more… relaxing… too much! His muscles were going weak, the Pegasus wobbling in place as his damp wings drooped down to his sides, head swimming. “Wh-wha… w-what did you…” He murmurs before dropping the vessel of wine which shattered on the floor as he flopped onto the checkered tile below, view fading to black as the grey griffon loomed above him, soon consumed by darkness.
Neo came to a short while later, his head groggy and clouded, thoughts coming to him slowly. He blinks his eyes open, the world around him fairly blurry but slowly coming into focus. After a moment he could feel his whole body, every inch of it, but something was deeply wrong… he couldn’t move! It was as if all his major muscles had been simply switched off. He could breath, twitch his eyes around, blink, but not lift a hoof or wing where he lay upon what seemed to be an elevated counter in the kitchen, the cool stone countertop pressing against his belly and nethers, a bit uncomfortable. The Pegasus grunts softly, attracting the attention of the two griffons.
“He’ll do, won’t he? Good size, yes.” Arvid chirps, peering closely at the pony on the counter.
“Oui, he will.” Gustave replies, moving over to the hapless pony, a coil of thick cooking twine and a long metal rod in claw. “Help me with this.”
“Ah, sure.”
The two griffons move to Neo, his eyes widening as he sees the pointed end of that metal rod approaching, mind racing to figure out just what it could possibly be for, as he had not yet figured on the griffons’ plans. Gustave pats a talon on Neo’s mane, stroking it gently twice before looking into his eyes.
“Tu, my pony, are just what we needed.” He laughs deeply. “We had no roast, and what is a feasting day without a roast? We have guests to come, oui, and they must be fed. I hope you understand.” Gustave explains, shifting Neo’s forehooves limply out in front of him and tucking his wings at his side. “Try to stay still.” He taunts.
“Ah don’t think he has to try!” Arvid snickers from nearby.
“Just help with the spit.” Gustave replies, giving a slight deadpan toward the smaller griffon.
Arvid nods and holds onto Neo’s shoulders as Gustave slickens the metal spit with olive oil and sets it down long enough to shear away most of Neo’s tail with a pair of shears. With the tail out of the way, he presses the cool metal tip of the roasting spit against the stallion’s pucker, the pony whimpering quietly as his eyes widen further, twitching in panic as it slips in, the cold metal intrusion stretching him around its decently thick width. It almost felt… good, in a strange way, feeling the penetration, sending a wave of arousal through him as his cock twitched and blush covered his face.
It only took a moment for it to start to feel wrong… deeper and deeper the spit went in him, until it reached the point beyond which nothing could naturally move. With a slight twist and a firm shove, the pointed tip slipped further in, and perhaps by some enchantment, the effects of whatever numbing poison he had been given, or just the deft skill of a practiced griffon chef, he felt no pain, merely strong pressure building up within him as the spit forced its way through the stallion’s body.
Neo shudders on the counter, gripped strongly by the brown griffon’s talons as he felt that spit creep through his belly, paralleling his spine and soon tickling the back of his throat, straightening him out unnaturally as it did. In a moment it was stretching his throat, causing the pony to gasp and gag as much as his paralyzed muscles could manage as it slipped past his wind pipe, restricting the flow of air a fair bit to the pony and sliding up into his mouth. With one further shove, he felt the thick spit flow from his lips, stretching further and further out in front of him, warmed by the core of his body. How could this be happening? This… this wasn’t real… it must be a dream, he thought to himself frantically.
“Aha, good, my pony. Good.” Gustave’s calm voice says, patting Neo’s gurgling muzzle with a claw as the pony struggled on the spit. “Not long now.”
Neo could feel another rod being slipped through a hole in the metal spit down by his hind hooves, and the tight compressing feeling of the twine being tied around those hooves, the new rod acting to give leverage to the spit once it was spinning in the fire. He gave a strangled whimper, half fear, half lust at the strange fullness he felt from the penetrating spit as he saw Arvid tying that same twine around his forehooves to the spit, and his wings down to his sides. The paralytic had begun to wear off, but the twine and the spit held him in place, his neck aching as it was held forward, unable to turn it at all.
“Heft him over, now.” Gustave said as he and Arvid lifted up the spit and quickly turned the pony over, resting him on his back and exposing his underside to the kitchen, his half erect cock flopping to the side.
“Looks like he’s kinda enjoyin’ it, eh!” Arvid cackles.
“Perhaps, perhaps.” Gustave says as he deftly takes Neo’s cock in his talon, gently stroking and caressing it, pumping in motion to get the blood flowing to that twitching member, making it fully hard and taking pleasure at the garbled moans of distressed pleasure from the pony. Once it was fully stiff, he took a loop of twine and tied it alarmingly tightly around the pony’s cock.
“This part is to help with the cooking of the delicacy.” The grey griffon explained to the other. “But now, we cook!”
Arvid nods once more and helps heft the pony up, and over to the edge of the huge oven he’d seen on the way in, and with Gustave’s assistance he fits two metal disks to the end of the spit and they set him into the mechanism of the oven. Neo’s mind was racing, a mixed up cloud of lust and alarm, feeling the drafting airflow over his aching, constricted cock. The griffons rotated him until he was properly the right side up once more, before they began basting his back and sides with a thick, sticky sauce that smelled spicy to his nostrils, almost appetizing, despite his situation. He could feel the tingle hint of heat from beneath him, but the grate was firmly shut.
“The potion, that I gave the pony, will keep him alive until we have finished at the table.” Gustave explains. “It is important… for the flavor. This is the traditional way of serving equines. But it is not done much, these days. You are lucky, my pony, to be a part of this. And you too, Arvid, to taste such a dish!”
“Ah can’t wait to try ‘im!” The brown griffon grins.
With that, Gustave reaches over and opens a lever beneath Neo, shifting the grates as a sudden wave of intense heat floats up and envelopes the pony. He tenses up, cock throbbing in the heat as he lets out a primal groan of fear and arousal, bucking and twisting as much as the spit would allow him to, as the mechanism he had been set in began to spin, ever so slowly. The heat began to make the basting sizzle upon him, seeping into his flesh, building and building in his core as he gasps and struggled to breath or keep his eyes open. The rotating of the spit soon gave him respite for his burning belly and cock, aching for release.
Where there was respite for one side, the other soon began to sizzle as he was rotated upside down, the heat spreading more evenly. It was clear that he’d not get out of this, he whimpered and gasped upon the realization…
“How long will ‘e take?” Arvid asks, departing the kitchen.
“A few hours, we will check, and baste often.” Gustave nods, checking a stop watch and turning to prepare the other dishes for the guests that would be coming to the lodge.
He was left upon the spit, a mere ingredient now, food to be consumed as he slowly cooked, strange magic keeping him going far beyond any point that could naturally be expected. He’d inevitably wind up on their table, inanimate roast, for the griffons…
The long walk back from Everfree after a patently exhausting and largely unfruitful trek through the forest’s depths weighed heavily upon Mercury as she skirted the woods on her way back to Ponyville. She’d been searching for new species of plants to document and test the properties of, for often they prove useful in alchemical experimentation. The mare yawned to herself, half lidded expression betraying her sleepiness even though the sun was still high in the sky.
Mercury stumbled and tripped, nearly falling on her face and bringing her out of her sleepy delirium with a start… she hadn’t even noticed that she’d strayed from the path and evidently gotten herself tangled up in a dark brown vine with deeply hued leaves. It looked remarkably out of place, she thought to herself as she grumpily looked back at her hooves, twisting side to side to extricate herself from the offending plant. It looked almost like an Everfree species she’d heard of before, but she was safely outside the bounds of the forest, surely it couldn’t be?
Her movements however, they seemed only to cause this vine to constrict around her hind hooves, tightly squeezing them together as the vine takes on animate motion, creeping and twisting, twirling and growing around her hind legs and enveloping them. The sticky tendrils grip her fur and venture upward, curling around her chest, flanks, and up to her neck, squeezing tighter and tighter. Mercury felt a tug on her hooves that were securely encased in the vines as they began to fuse together at the base, turning to a much stiffer sheath of wood and rooting her hooves firmly to the ground.
The mare yelped as the embrace of the vines thickened around her, wildly flailing her limbs and tugging at the roots that held her fast to the spot. The spreading wood from the base of the vines crept further upward, encasing her hind legs up to her hips and squeezing almost painfully tight. She felt the tingle of magic in her legs, sensation deadening as the wood bulked up around them, seemingly as if she were merging with the wood… to her dismay she spots the bark upon the trunk forming around her leeching the color of her coat upon itself, a sandy beige, lightening all along its length.
Mercury turned to panic, yelping and calling out for help to any pony that may have been around… but she was thoroughly alone: this was not the most traveled of roads and it could be hours before another pony happens along, and by then… by then…! She didn’t even want to ponder the possibilities as a new force swept over her, movement of the trunk and the vines as it tilted backward, pulling her forehooves from the ground and lifting her upward onto what had been her hind hooves. She twists and bucks as much as she can, but the vines now looped around her forelimbs too, restricting any movement she could think to make as they snaked around her neck and chest, their vice grip restricting her breath. Small purple buds had popped out along some of the vine’s length, growing alongside the mysterious plant and hapless pony trapped in its embrace.
The vines surged forward with new energy as they covered her core, lightening all around to her sandy beige and drying out, forming a papery striped bark that enveloped her form. She felt her forehooves wrenched to each side at impossible angles, stretched outward and upward as the vines had their way with her, bones popping and crackling as it went along, magic taking hold. She could barely do more than twitch and shiver in the grip of the plant, her forelimbs being stretched out longer and longer, until with a crack and a pop they split at the ends. Mercury would have called out in fear at the sight, but a stray vine now twisted around her muzzle, clamping it firmly and permanently shut, she could barely manage a muffled squeak.
Willowy grey leaves spread out in huge tufts from the ends of her hooves… no… they were no longer hooves, they now more appeared like branches to her, eyes darting around from side to side, desperate for any help or way to escape the magic. More volume built up in the leaves, encroaching upon her vision as the vines formed around her head. In the corner of her eyes before the vines covered them she saw the buds sprouting out, spreading into very familiar purple flowers.
In mere moments the mare was gone from sight, utterly encased in the unyielding prison of wood and bark as the magic worked further upon her. She felt her bones stiffen and creak from within, her limbs and spine turning to the dense, heartwood of a tree as her flesh followed suit, blood being converted to sticky sap and sapwood. Her mind swam, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations that pervaded her remaining senses as her form grew taller and wider, leaves turning to a full, dangling and flowered canopy that swayed slightly in the wind that blew down the path.
Mercury couldn’t move even the barest fraction of an inch now as the magic began to fade, her full form changed unrecognizably into that of a mere tree. Her sense of touch was dimmed, the feeling of flowing air on her bark a bare tingle, and the bizarre feeling of her roots stretching deep into the soil below her soaking in the moisture she now needed to survive. Her hearing remained somehow, but muffled, as though she were listening through a thick wooden door, and no amount of sight remained for the poor mare. And yet… she had a vague sense of the shapes and position of what was around her, the path, the grass below, and a few feet in either direction, some aspect of the magic? She couldn’t tell for sure.
No trace remained except for the slight resemblance in the color of her bark and leaves to those of her mane and coat, but nopony would ever make such a jump and conclusion… she was trapped here, for as long as she could imagine, for who would ever suspect the willowy tree along the path to Everfree was ever more than it appeared?
Bound to be a Meal (Zecora, Snake Vore, Digestion/Absorption)
Zecora wasn’t sure quite just what had happened… she’d heard a pony rush up in the Everfree, a bandit perhaps, demand her bags, and then she was hit upon the head heavily, dropping her into blackness. Coming to a short while later, she blinks and winces, shifting in place. The zebra mare tried to bring a hoof to her face to rub her head, but found both of them firmly stuck to her sides, something tight gripping them and holding them fast… rope?
She grunts and stretches, twisting about to try and get a look at her situation- finding her hind hooves similarly bound together. Her muzzle was tightly bound shut as well, a bit of cloth shoved into her mouth stifling any sort of sound she could have made to call for help. Evidently whoever had robbed her didn’t want her pursuing them, or sought to dispose of her like this. Did they mean to return for her? She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself as she thought of a way to get herself undone… but movement caught her eye.
Slowly turning to the left she sees the glint of eyes in the darkness of the forest, freezing up stiffly where she lay on her belly. A reptilian head pokes into view, giving her a start- the long body of a massive python surging forward, fixated upon the helpless zebra. With a lightning quick motion, Zecora barely had time to yelp into her gag before it was upon her!
The snake struck with its teeth, grabbing onto her side and twisting into a roll to coil around the zebra mare. The strength of its muscles were too much for her to resist in this state, finding herself coiled more and more, the snake beginning to squeeze and restrict her air. Most of the squeeze was around her neck, but her metal rings seemed to be taking the brunt of its force, keeping her wind pipe from being crushed.
She lay in the grip of the snake, struggling very little, for every movement she made alerted the predator and it just squeezed harder. The snake twists and turns, getting a better position on the prey it held in its coils.
Zecora’s eyes go wide, a moist sticky warmth creeps over her hooves alongside the prickle of reptilian teeth outside of her view, soon sliding further up to her heels. She kicks and squirms, only to have the snake squeeze her into further submission as it begins to work its jaws up over the hapless bound zebra’s legs. Her hooves were drawn further into the creature’s wet, fleshy maw, teeth prickling into her haunches as she felt herself squeezed into its jaws. It twists its head side to side, working over the widest part of her hips as her tail is drawn in- desperately she attempts to hook her tied forehooves over the side of its jaws, but the creature’s coils prevent those motions, soon finding her forehooves pulled into the slippery maw as well.
The coils shift, allowing the zebra to be swallowed more easily, with all four of her hooves now slickened and within the snake, it would make short work of her. She whinnies and snorts, muffled by the rope and cloth as it works its toothy jaws up over her belly, twitching and squirming as it went, the hideous warmth encircling her body as she was pulled in. Up, up, toward her shoulders and neck, the creature lifted her upward and gravity began to work to speed up her descent.
Covered in the sticky saliva that lubricated her body, she slipped downward. She caught a quick glance of her tied form stretching the snake’s scaly hide into a thick bulge before the jaws pull around her head. Breathing heavily, the snake’s saliva drips down over her eyes as the jaws close around her, dimming her vision and cutting her off from the fresh air of the world and casting her into darkness. She fights and twists, all in vain… surely this wasn’t it? This couldn’t be it! She thought in panic as the snake’s muscles squeezed and contracted, forcing her further into its body…
The ropes held Zecora fast as she slipped deeper into the gullet of the snake, her hooves pressed up against a ring of flesh before it gave way and she was squeezed and forced by the walls of muscle and bone that encased her into a tube-like chamber, smaller than she was around but that stretched tightly to fit her. A noxious scent hit her nostrils and a tingling wetness encircled around the mare, viscous liquid squeezed around her form, filling every nook and cranny and matting her fur and mane. She held her eyes tightly shut, her grunts and struggled muffled but visible from outside the snake.
She felt movement of the snake, contracting and pulling muscles as it slowly slithered away from where it had found her, seeking out a sheltered place to sleep and digest its massive meal.
The liquid tingled as the snake moved, building up more steadily into a sting, acid like sensation that permeated her being, seeping around her and eating away at her fur. She hadn’t suffocated yet, minutes now since she had been able to draw a breath… some strange magic was keeping her alive in the belly of the snake. The tingling and stinging ever stronger around her as her movements and struggles became more and more labored.
Minutes passed into hours, trapped in the depths of the snake, her mind fading in and out of consciousness as a numbness spread over her, body dissolving away into mush. She couldn’t move an inch now if she tried. The snake had been still awhile now, muscles churning the liquefying zebra within its stomach every hour or so, beginning to absorb her away.
Zecora’s mind wandered to and fro, finding it harder and harder to focus as time progressed… how much time, she couldn’t tell. Hours, days… the stinging had faded away, unable to feel any part of her body now, completely blind and deaf with no link to anything beyond her new little world inside the snake. Her mind comes to, as a new sensation crosses what’s left of her being, a tingling, almost like her consciousness was being drawn away from the stomach, held elsewhere, her sense of touch returning.
She felt… she felt cool rocks beneath her, as if she were suddenly outside of the beast once more! And yet… she could see nothing, hear nothing, and she lay paralyzed, unable to move. A jolt surges through her, some strange command forcing her to move, though in an alien motion- she stretched forward, only to be pulled back, entirely against her will, feeling the stone beneath slide as she- no… as the snake slithered. The jolt continued, she couldn’t think at all for herself as it persisted, stretch, contract, stretch, contract, over and over, it was all she could do!
As quickly as it began it stopped… her mind able to focus again, as it slowly dawned upon her just what had happened. The creature had absorbed her, somehow, the magic taking her consciousness and fusing it with the very muscles of the snake, her own mass serving to help it grow larger. She’d become a part of it, a sentient set of muscle within the girth of the great python… trapped, she realized, with no sense except touch and the electrical pulses from the creature’s faraway brain.
Trapped permanently… and no end in sight.
Keep Off the Displays! (OC Stallion, Inanimate TF)
Quilted covers, bedspreads, pillows, shams, cases, sheets, this place had it all, Wave Length thought to himself as he browsed the multitudinous displays within the store. It was all arranged with such precision, not a single wrinkle or crease on any of the model beds, pillows aligned perfectly, to the point where it was almost eerie to behold. Surely the owner of this store must be… finicky, the stallion chuckles, tapping a hoof. He needed the whole set, mattress and all, though he was reluctant to buy anything without testing it out first. Something which was impeded by the signs on every display that said “Do not touch” in no uncertain terms…
Wave Length glances around, surely it wouldn’t be noticed if he were to just hop on one of the beds real quick to see how comfy the pillows were? Surely, he figured, as he couldn’t even see anypony that’d notice him. With a quick hop he sets himself down onto the nearest bed and rests his head upon the pillow, just resting for a moment and pondering on whether or not he’d want to make a purchase.
“HEY!” A voice rings out.
“Wha…?” Wave blinks his eyes open and slides off the bed onto the black and white tiled floor with a thud.
“Can’t you read! Don’t touch! That means don’t touch, and especially means don’t lay on it!” The voice speaks again, the sound of quickly approaching hooves bringing them near. It turns out to be a unicorn stallion, of similar stature to himself, but with a stark white coat and a cutiemark of a pillow enshrouded in magic.
“I a-ah…” Wave rubs his head with a hoof, lying on the floor where he fell.
“You what?” The stallion leers down at him grumpily.
“Well-“
“Ugh!” The stallion cuts him off. “No excuses, ponies are always the same, and you’re no different. Only one way to deal with this.”
A blue aura of magic grabs hold of Wave Length and sits him up on his haunches, holding him fast. Almost as quickly a burst of pins and needles flow over him where he sat, making him squirm in place, leaning backward on his hooves.
“H-hey, what gives? What are you casti- …”
“Don’t talk to me, I’m working!” The store keeper growled, focusing more energy from his spell.
Wave shivers, a bizarre pulling sensation brings his forelegs closer to his sides and sticks them there as if with glue, fur seeming to run together where they touched and take on a lighter hue. The spell moved down from his shoulders, sealing his limbs to his side as if they were on a zipper track! Unable to keep his balance as a result he leans backward against the wall, head starting to swim as the magic worked upon him.
“W-what are you doing!” He shouts out through the spell.
“Oh hush.” The stallion replies, magic shifting and sealing his lips shut in a similar fashion.
“Mmnnph! Gmmn…!?” Wave Length mumbles, trying to bring his hooves up to his face but finding them firmly stuck. He glances down to see the changes progressing to other parts, fur on his chest and belly starting to plump up, taking on a plush appearance as it fades white, a texture almost like that of… fabric? Was forming where his fur had been. His heels draw together and stick, all the way up his legs, fusing together as the white fabric spread over them, seeming to fill in the gap between them.
A warmth invaded the core of his being, as if magically he was being stuffed full of a thick filling, forcing more and more inside of him. He sees his fabric like skin bloat up, turning soft and pillowy as it continues- not that’d be able to test that with his hooves in their current state. A tingle crosses his hind hooves as he sees them start to shrink away into the corners of his increasingly pillow-like form, twitching and squirming as much as their range of motion rapidly diminishes.
Wave’s forelimbs were now entirely fused into his body, without any hind limbs either he slid down onto his back, craning his neck as much as possible to see where his bizarre transformation would lead and to plead with the stallion with his eyes. The magic continued unabated, pulling and squeezing all around him as his body takes a more rectangular form, the plush filling welling up inside of him, feeling it at the back of his throat. In mere moments his entire lower form was shaped as a bed pillow would be, and a tugging sensation pulled at his head as his neck vanished away.
His mouth, formerly sealed shut now sinks down into his pillowy body, magic tugging on his ears to pull them into cloth corners. The unicorn’s horn recedes away as the fabric climbs up over his face, soon only his eyes remained… and those too were ultimately subsumed beneath it. With all the power he had remaining he managed but a single twitch on the floor before falling limp, utterly incapable of moving any longer. Wave’s gaze was stuck staring straight up, blurred slightly as if he were looking through the fabric that now covered him. He could hear muffled sounds around him, feel the coolness of the tile beneath, but nothing else.
A sudden weightlessness comes over him as he’s lifted into the air by magic, squeezed, compressed, and fluffed. He feels himself settled down on something much softer… one of the beds? He couldn’t quite see it, but it likely was.
“Much better… now there’s nothing wrong with you touching the displays!” The grumpy unicorn says, before affixing a small price tag to his edge, turning around and walking away.
Wave Length lay there, alone with his thoughts… for however long it would be. He was utterly indistinguishable from a normal pillow, and that stallion certainly had no intention of changing him back… if he could even remember which pillow he was later on.
The thought crossed his mind that he might be stuck this way forever…
The Book End (OC Griffon, Inanimate TF/Petrification)
Arvid pokes his head around the corner of a darkened hallway in the Canterlot Library, seeing the books beyond locked off by a firm iron gate. He slides over, quiet on his talons and paws before fiddling with the lock. He’d practiced for quite a while to get this thing opened, and once he did he’d have to be quick… the guards came by every half hour so the clock was ticking! Ever since the Library had denied his multitudinous requests for access to the restricted section so that he could research some of the more magical and deadly plants within Everfree he’d been planning to get—
In! With a click and a metallic ping he’d picked the lock, pulling his talon and the pin out and slowly turning the creaky gate open. He gently shuts it behind him, careful not to pull it all the way as it would be difficult to impossible to pick it back open from the other side if it re-locked.
The griffon takes a deep breath, savouring the smell of the ancient books within. Most books had a scent of their own, but those that were centuries old, printed on fibrous parchment or stretched vellum had a scent like no other when gathered together, slightly sweet and woody, with a hint of smokiness and dust. Coming back from that moment of glee he adjusts his cap, scanning the shelves and the markings thereon, looking for the one that contained the particular cosmographia he was after.
Spotting the shelf he moves towards it, but had taken scarce a step before an errant placement of his paw triggered some sort of pressure plate and in a moment found himself tumbling head over heels down a chute and into a room below.
“Argh! Gah…” He grumbles, rolling into what seemed to be a wall… he had forgotten that there were ancient traps there in the restricted sanctum of the Library, disabled when accessed legally, but active otherwise. He looks around quickly, eyes adjusting to the light to see just where he was. It was a smallish room, dark and fairly cramped, looking down he was on some odd sort of plinth with a tall backing on it- undoubtedly the wall he’d run into after falling down the chute.
The griffon rolls his shoulders, twisting his weight to try and stand back up but was met with a pulling sensation from his back, like it was stuck with adhesive to the stone wall behind him. Arvid quickly found that it his rump was similarly fastened, quirking a brow quizzically as he tried to figure out this predicament. Glue trap…? No, this was just stone, nothing else on it. Must be some sort of magic… indeed, he spots the faint hint of a seal on the stone beneath him glowing and fading away to leave the polished marble behind. Whatever the case, he was quite stuck in a rather awkward position, splayed back with his paws in the air.
He shivers, another sensation creeping over him, starting on his back and rump where they met the marble. A coolness seeping along and squeezing at his skin, the griffon shudders and squirms in response, peering down in the dimness to see the colour on his hind regions starting to fade, subsumed beneath a steadily encroaching stony texture. Arvid’s eyes go wide!
“A-aaahh no no no, not good…” He mutters, realizing just what sort of trap this was meant to be, ignoring the little voice in his head murmuring that there was no way out of it as a creature without magic.
The stone squeezes his form, compacting in his flesh from the outside in and turning all to lifeless stony material. It spread out over his chest, feathers freezing still and taking the entirely of his waist before creeping down his tail and up his outstretched legs. Before any more panic could set in, his whole world turns to mush around him, swirling in a magical vortex and fading to black.
When his sight returned he found himself elsewhere- still firmly stuck to the bizarre plinth, but… elsewhere. He blinks, turning his head out to survey the surroundings, it seemed that he was up high, outside? No… He blinks again, noting what seemed to be a giant book behind him and the floor fair below. It added up in his head, a shelf! He was on a shelf, and this plinth was…
His mind was brought back to the situation at hand with the sound of crackling stone and the feeling of constriction around his chest, breath cut short by the stone. He wheezes, unable to draw in much air as he kicks with his legs, desperately trying to free himself from the stone, tail thrashing wildly along the length not yet taken by the stone as silently his name etches onto a small plaque along the front edge of the plinth beneath him.
Arvid sets a talon on the marble below and grabs hold of a leg to try and push more leverage. The only result of the effort was the marble grabbing hold of that talon, fusing it to the plinth below as it crept over his scaly talon. He squeezes that leg in his other, feeling it solidify beneath his touch and encroaching upon his paws. Flexing his toes in the air, the stone covers them rapidly, freezing the pose inelegantly. To his dismay he found himself unable to let go, that talon now fused in the grip of the stone as his arms fell to the curse, wings following suit behind him.
All around the stone squished inward, barely able to draw any breath at all. He shudders and gasps, feeling like a thousand pounds were pressing in on him from all angles. A pop and a crackle echoes out as his neck solidifies, trapping his gaze facing forward towards his paws as it slipped up over his beak, the last sliver of air trapped inside him with a muffled whine. He blinks rapidly, not ready as the creeping marble steals the whole of his countenance, even taking the cap upon his head with him.
Nothing remained flesh beyond the tip of his tail, flicking agitatedly from side to side before it too fell still. His vision was dimmed slightly, but still present, stuck staring straight. He heard soft cracks echoing about within him as the stone continued to squeeze him into a tighter, more solid form, settling into stone.
In the distance he could hear the subtle *chink* as the gate re-locked, leaving him to sit, now nary more than a simple bookend, a possession of the Library, in silence with nothing but his thoughts and the books around to keep him company in the dim light of the dusty library.
Just where were they… they had to be around her someplace. Mercury Shine had seen them a week before on a trot through the Everfree; a special herb that only grew in the heart of the forest, far away from the magic of pony-folk. They had a plethora of unique alchemical applications, the perfect reagent to have on hoof in her stores.
She casts about with her hooves, careful not to disturb any dangerous plants so deep in the forest, focusing intently and looking for the tiny leafed plant- scarce any bigger than a clover, as she recalled. Her forehoof brushed back and forth, sweeping plants and weeds away in her search- but strangely she hits a chunk of stone with a clack against the hard of her hoof.
The mare blinks, turning her gaze upward to investigate what she had walked into in her obliviousness, nearly jumping out of her skin when her eyes meet the shimmering rubies of a vicious snake!
“W-wah!” She yelps, stumbling back before she realizes it was only an unusually lifelike statue of that serpent… beautiful in jade, with two marvelous gems set into its eyes that seemed to glow with a radiant hue in the light. Her eyes locked in with those gems… how curious they looked, why would such a thing be out here she wondered.
Her mind wanders, but seems to come back to the rubies, the glow brighter and brighter, glittering now as she can’t look away. The glow begins to seep forth from the serpent, flickering out in living filaments that reach out, spiraling through the air towards her and forming similar filaments around her, twisting and turning like the tips of a flame.
She twitches a little, eyes stuck on the serpent as she feels a strange coolness creep up over her hind hooves and tail tip, followed by a sensation of squeezing, as if something had grabbed her in a powerful grip. It crawled upward, over her heels and onto her rump, a stiff compacting force followed closely by a coarse gravelly sound, unnerving as she felt a numb prickle in all the affected areas.
Something wasn’t right… She thinks, eyes twitching as she looked at the rubies. Something wasn’t right!
The mare blinks once, twice, shaking her head as she tries to get it out of her mind.
“G-gah… what is… this…” She winces, turning her gaze upward and out of the view of the serpent, freeing her mind from whatever force had kept her paralyzed in its view. She turns her head back, craning to see what was going on…
Mercury Shine’s mind turns to shock, seeing the extent of the magicks cast upon her by the vexatious artefact before her… from hind hoof up over her rump her soft flesh had been ossified, subsumed beneath a surface of hard, shiny jade- just like the serpent!
She tries quickly to turn herself and get away, but the weight of her rear set in stone was too great for her to do any more than drag herself an inch or two, hind hooves digging into the soft soil, perfectly rigid- a feeling that was spreading. She shivers as her entire spine locks into rigid form as the stone advances over her belly and chest, squeezing her breath with its weight. It felt like a hundred books were stacked upon her, pressing down and from all sides, her breathing laborious and constrained in the stone shell.
The mare reaches a hoof out in another attempt to pull herself out of the shimmering aura of the artefact, but is forced to watch and listen as the dense stony texture spreads down over her forehooves, trapping her entire form beneath her head in a rigid and statuesque form. In a last effort to avert the crisis she channels energies into her horn, perhaps to shatter the serpent and save herself, but her aura falters and fizzes, the tip of her horn had turned to jade, blocking her magic.
There truly seemed no way out…
“A-aah gmnnph…” She gulps and winces as the crackling stone creeps up over her jaw, her head frozen now in its position, looking toward the terrible serpent that cast this curse upon her. Her words were garbled and stuck, the stone penetrating deep into her core and sealing away her voice and breath. The mare’s eyes dart back and forth rapidly from her rigid form, looking for anyone or anything that might help… but to no avail. Nopony knew she was out here, and nopony just wandered so far in the wood…
In a moment her eyes too went still, muscles turned jade, locking her view forward in the rough direction of the serpent. Her ears flicked, the last movements she could make before they twitched no more- becoming stone to match the rest of her new form.
She felt as though she had been packed in solid lead, or cast into the crushing depths of the sea as the stone settled in and around her, turning denser and denser, crackles and pops ringing and echoing about inside her as the magick finalized.
The sensation of squeezing turned to a muted numbness, leaving her set upon the spot where she had stood, still and quiet.
Her view was preserved, somehow… as was her mind… a dulled sense of hearing and touch, she was more or less all there, albeit stuck within an inanimate form.
Mercury Shine was alone now…
Alone with her thoughts.
Alone to contemplate her fate here in the Everfree Forest.
She didn’t know how long it had been, the days seemed to run together. Months at least… perhaps longer. Here in the depth of the forest it’s fairly dark at all hours, making it difficult to tell time on a good day. In the light she watched the plants around her sway in the breeze, listened to the drip of the quiet rain, and the calls of the birds echoing in the trees. In the dark she watched the blackness, eyes ever open, the occasional glimpse of movement or misty revenants in the night no longer causing panic or fear. Nothing in the forest bothered her, for she was merely an object of stone, a part of the very forest now.
The weight of her form had steadily caused her to tilt in the soft ground of the mucky forest, listing sharply to one side. She might have tipped over had she not also partially sunk into the ground, her forehoof beneath the dirt anchoring her in place. Small plants had grown up around her, the clearing closing in from when she first entered… she could feel the weight of dirt and moss built up upon her back, and the squeeze of a thick flowing creeper which sprouted and twisted all around her like a tangling rope.
The serpent that had cast her into this state lay nearby, steadily becoming enshrouded more and more in plants. She hoped that it would vanish, maybe sink into the ground and leave her sight, she had grown weary of looking at the thing- and worried that it would trap anyone that ever came and found her.
If somepony ever came to find her, that was…
… before the forest claims her completely.
...
It was too late now.
Mercury had been petrified for longer than she could remember, the days and nights flying past in her mind's eye like the pages of a rapidly flipped book. With each coming and departing of the sun, the thick swampy mire upon which she rested sucked her lower and lower, the action of the roots and vines that grew all around speeding the process until the very swamp of Everfree itself swallowed the stone mare up, sinking her into pure and utter darkness. All that remained was the chilled sensation of the mud and the dense, crushing weight of the ground that closed in around her.
All was black... and yet she remained, her thoughts forever entrapped in this unyielding prison of jade.
As time ticked on in the depths of the swamp, she slipped further and further into the blackness until her mind send her into a restful torpor, incapable of anything else.
The hall was quiet, her lone hoofsteps echoing about the stately room.
A brand new museum of art for Canterlot, Cadance mused to herself as she glanced about the fresh exhibits and recently finished masonry. She wondered if she might be able to find it within the Imperial budget to build one like this back home in her Empire; but would have to wait a while to be tactful if she did! The Princess admitted to herself as well that it would be tough to find architects who could match the splendour of this new building.
Cadance had been permitted early access to look around and take in the exhibits before she would help to dedicate it later that afternoon, as such she had the whole building to herself for a few hours—wonderful respite from the hubbub of Canterlot in the morning rush.
She rounded into the next hall, finished perusing the paintings and noticed that it was a statue gallery. Quite a few masterfully hewn statues of marble, alabaster, even jade stood in alcoves along the walls, glittering in a slight bit of light cast upon them. Historical figures, she saw Starswirl the Bearded and Commander Hurricane nearby, but it was a glimpse of familiar form that drew her attention.
A magnificent representation of Celestia stood beside an onyx Luna, and she smiled. Their likeness was well matched, even a statue of the newest princess, Twilight, stood nearby in an unusual purple stone. She pondered… was there one of her?
The alicorn mare giggled, she would love to see it if there was… but couldn’t seem to find such a statue. An empty alcove came into view with just a pedestal within, but possessing a polished brass name tag upon it. She leaned in to read- “CADANCE”. But… where was the statue?
She glanced around and then back to the pedestal. It was obviously meant to be there, perhaps it was being repaired or polished and would be brought in before the opening. Had to be one of those two, Cadance nods to herself.
Still, it was a shame to see it empty like that.
A quick thought crossed her mind, to have a little fun. The alicorn giggled, all alone, no guards to see her silliness as she steps across the red velvet rope that blocked off the alcove.
With a hop she steps up onto the plinth, looking out at the room with a grin. Not a bad view, she admits, striking a regal pose atop the marble beneath her. Surely she cut a comical sight, trying a different pose or two and imagining what her statue must look like.
After a few minutes she had her fun, and moved to hop down from the spot, but with a sudden shock and stumble she finds her hind hooves refusing to budge from the stone! The plinth wobbled as she regained her composer, looking down to see what was going on…
The Princess’ eyes widen as she sees the familiar sign of a faint blue magical hue, an enchantment, her hind hooves heavy and cold having lost all their colour. The seemed to flow right into the marble below… just like…
STONE!
“Aah!” She yelps, glancing around with speed to see if there was some devious unicorn casting this upon her, but caught so sight. The aura moved, enveloping more of her hind legs as she shivered. The edge of the stone crept upward with a slight crackling sound, squeezing her flesh into solid rock as it progressed.
“Somepony! Help!” She calls out, voicing echoing in the halls of the vacant museum.
The mare tries to flare her horn to cast a counter-spell but finds her magic fizzling into the air with an ineffectual hiss- a tap from her forehoof to her horn returns the sound of clinking stone instead of familiar ivory.
With a ragged breath of distress, she feels her tail grow heavy and with a crackle of stone it freezes in place. The magic forces itself over her, pulling her up off her forehooves and causing her to rear up. The pressure and weight of the stone surging over her waist and into her chest causes the mare to gasp, rapidly finding her breathing constricted within her rigid skin of stone.
Flailing her forehooves in desperate attempt to remove herself from the plinth, she merely causes herself to wobble precariously before settling back. Her breath was short, gasping to draw in air with the stone compressing around her chest and locking her bodily pose permanently. A hoof stretched out towards the room, almost pleading to be helped, to be seen, it goes rigid, stuck outstretched and losing hue to marble before her panicked eyes. The other hoof quickly follows suit, closer to her body, wings stretched out behind her.
“P- …” She gasps as the stone moves into her core. “P-Plea- ..” She cannot utter the words, breath stolen from her entirely. With a crack and a pop she feels her neck succumb, locking her gaze out towards the room and the other statues.
Her mind raced for a way to get out, some way, any way, there had to be a way!
Panic mounted as she feels the spell causing her to put a fake smile upon her face before casting her lips and muzzle into the stone that was consuming her being. The last vestiges of her former self vanished from view beneath the encroaching marble as her eyes froze into position, aimed out into the exhibit hall.
The mare’s vision was fuzzy, and her hearing muddled… but she was still conscious within the stone, mind rolling around in thought as she heard the crackles and pops of her new stone form settling into permanence atop the plinth.
To all the world outside she was a happy portrait of herself in stone, set within the alcove of the new museum for all the ponies to come and see. No evidence left about that would suggest that she had ever been anything more than a simple statue, expertly carved in marble.
The hall was silent once more, but in a few hours would be bustling with new patrons and visitors; as it would be for many years to come…
All the Glisters (Rarity, Fluttershy, Petrification)
Fluttershy poked her head inside the Carousel Boutique, the motion making the door ring with a gentle jingle from the bell above it. She’d been asked to come over to help Rarity with some sort of task, though she was unsure as to just what it could possibly be- the letter the unicorn had sent her had been incredibly vague. She steps further in, glancing around the shoppe but seeing no sign of her friend.
“Rarity…?” She calls out timidly, not wishing to raise her voice too loud lest she disturb the dressmaker in her work. “Are you here?”
The buttery Pegasus waits a few moments without any response, turning to leave afterward. Obviously she either wasn’t there or was very busy and she’d better come b-
“In here darling!” Rarity’s voice comes from the room beyond.
Fluttershy perks up, trotting quietly into the back room where Rarity was currently. “Hello Rarity! Ooh… what’s all this for?” She asks, noting an array of cameras sitting on tripods and far more mirrors than usual clustered around the small stage-like runway the fashionista kept for exhibiting her latest creations.
“For the photoshoot! Oh yes, yes indeed.” Rarity’s head pops up from behind the stage, somewhat tangled in cables. “I think I just about have it set up for you.” “For… m-me? Nonono, Rarity I said I wasn’t going back into fash-“
“Fashion? Not at all darling! This one is…” The unicorn waves a hoof in the air. “Different. It’s more a magical exhibition and photography experiment.”
“I d-” She tries to reply.
“Oh pleeeeease Fluttershy you have to help me with it, I simply don’t know who I’ll ask if you don’t since you’re the ONLY one that truly understands the mind of an artiste! You have talent! PIZZAZ! I’d ask Applejack but she’d just tromp mud everywhere, Rainbow Dash can’t sit still to save her life, Twilight is stuck in her books, and Pinkie Pie… don’t get me started on Pinkie Pie! You just HAVE to help me!” “I…” She starts again, voice soft.
“Pleaaaseeee!” Rarity asks once more, eyes wide and needy.
“Okay…” Fluttershy replies, still unsure.
“OH! Thankyouthankyouthankyou darling!” Rarity hops out from behind the stage, nearly tripping on a cable but saving herself gracefully. “I’ll just need you to drink this and then hop up onto the stage in the light, would you dear?” She asks, producing a smallish crystal flask resembling a decanter of sorts. Within it sloshes a silvery liquid, almost looking like mercury.
“Drink… that? What’s it do?” Fluttershy blinks, taking the flask.
“Turns you to silver of course, like the magnificent piece of art you are Fluttershy!” Rarity bats her eyelashes at the Pegasus.
“W-wha? Silver? Like… like a statue? Of Silver? I, no, no, I can’t…” Fluttershy stammers.
“Oh but you said you’d help me…” Rarity droops, looking crestfallen. “Mm… tell you what, would it help if I did the same? Joined you up there?” She asks, producing a second flask of glittering liquid, this one like molten gold.
“Well… um… okay…” Fluttershy tries to hide a bit of blush beneath her long bangs, seeing her friend like that, she just couldn’t say no again. Couldn’t.
“It’s settled then!” Rarity says, smiling once again as she pops the cork from the flask and quaffing the liquid with gusto. “Go on, quickly, drink yours.”
Fluttershy balks for a few seconds before doing as she was bidden, drinking back the flask of silvery fluid and trying not to gag at the coppery, metallic taste. It felt cold going down, like minty ice-water.
“Ugh… okay, so um, now what?”
Rarity hops up onto the stage, motioning her to follow. “Up here darling.”
As Fluttershy moves to climb onto the stage she’s met with a dense, swimming feeling all around her, head spinning a little as she clambers up, limbs feeling like lead. Rarity leans in close and helps her up, swaying a little bit with Fluttershy. Her horn lit up and somewhere off in the corner of the room a slow waltz began to play off an old record.
“Dance with me.” Rarity asks, holding out a hoof.
“Okay…” She replies meekly, seeing that Rarity too blushed a little. The Pegasus takes that hoof as they begin to circle each other in a slow rhythmic dance, limbs seeming to grow heavier with each step. A few of the cameras flash around them, taking pictures automagically.
A stiffness follows, Fluttershy’s eyes widening a little, startled as she looked down upon her hooves losing their colour, a silvery metallic sheen taking over her fur. Each step on the floor now rung with a metal like tap as if she were wearing thick iron shoes, each motion taking a little more effort than the last.
Rarity too was beginning to change similarly, a golden hue taking place of her white fur, starting to reflect the light from the camera flashes as it crept up her legs. “Don’t worry dear, I’m with you.” The mare smiles.
Fluttershy was reassured by her friend, her legs now stiff as pegs, bending them only with tremendous effort and the sound of densely creaking metal. Their stiff motions soon halted in their steps, limbs no longer responding to their command as the metal flowed upward, cooling off from their body warmth, like they were slowly being dipped in cold bath. A strange numbness followed, she could feel the stage beneath her, but muted through her metal hooves. Most of all though she could feel the touch of Rarity’s golden fore-hoof, now locked with hers in a metallic touch, both of them swaying slightly as the cameras flash more. She glanced around into the mirrors, seeing her body vanishing beneath the ever moving metal from so many angles… a curious thing to both see and feel.
The cool touch of the metal marched upward, over their shoulders and hips- cutie marks and fur along the way changing hue into glittering precious metal. Fluttershy’s wings clamped firmly by her sides, and both of their tails frozen solid in metal before it reached up over their bellies and chest.
“A-ah… Rarity…” She smiles a little bit, the metal squeezing in on her chest and compacting, making her breaths difficult and short.
“Shh… I’m here.” The mare responded, both of their lungs soon solidified as the metal reached up over their necks.
They stared into each other’s eyes, silent and mostly still now, not a word could be spoken between them now if they tried. The two mares blushed, hiding secret joy that they were together like this, stuck to one another for who knows how long. Fluttershy smiles sheepishly as her muzzle and countenance are subsumed by the silver, her eyes frozen facing Rarity who’s gaze did the same in gold. The cameras flashed a few more times around, their new bodies glittering brilliantly, reflected in the light through the mirrors all around before they shut off, leaving the room in truest stillness and silence when the record stops.
Truth be told, Rarity did not know exactly how long the potions would last… this was just how she wanted it too. To be with Fluttershy, like this. It wouldn’t last forever, if the potion didn’t wear off then their friends would find them, and it wouldn’t take much effort from the Element of Magic to return them to their natural state, hours, maybe days from now. Goodness, would they have some explaining to do then…
… but for now, for now she was content. And so was Fluttershy, content to simple exist with the pony she so admired.
