Master Gerrick and Mirror Image Go On Equestrian Tour

by Sinful Gold

First published

A sadistic griffon prince and his loyal, self-cloning maidservant tour Equestria. They travel to magical, distant lands, meet naive, fuckable people, and kill them.

Master Gerrick is a griffon, native to a relatively unique region of Griffonstone where the nobility raise their pony peasants for use as both food and sex slaves. He lives a comfortable life, waited on paw and talon by his faithful maidservant, Mirror Image, who uses her ability to create magic clones of herself to sate his sadistic sexual urges.

He was content to stay that way, but one experience with a naive Equestrian maiden has stirred a fire in his loins. Now he's traveling Equestria with a steady supply of bits from his estate, bodies from his maid, and his own wit and ferocity, fucking and snuffing as he goes.

General content includes rape, snuff, gore, and some hard vore. More specific warnings will be included at the top of each chapter.


This is an anthology fic for me to collect any stories about Master Gerrick and Mirror Image and their victims! and attempt to build some kind of coherent narrative from the mess. I have no long-term plans and will update irregularly as whimsy and commissions come. Send a PM if you'd like to buy a chapter—there's a $2/k discount off my regular rate!

I: Mirror Image Prepares Breakfast

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Mirror Image woke with the dawn.

This wasn't unexpected. Master Gerrick always expected his breakfast to be ready when he rose in the morning, and any servant mare that failed in the task was unlikely to live to try again. Every month, one or two mares would go missing after being assigned to the master's kitchen. Sometimes somepony would have to be assigned to clean up after.

Normally Mirror would be far too busy with running the Master’s house to concern herself directly with every meal, but they were on the road today—as they had been for the past two weeks. Instead of the sound of bustling servants or rowdy house guests, she woke to birdsong and the soft fluttering of the tent flaps. She couldn’t see from within the tent, but she knew the pale blue light of dawn would just be creeping into the clearing where she’d made their camp. She had until the sun grew bright and strong enough to wake her Master to ready his breakfast.

She opened her eyes with a quiet yawn, lifting her head to inspect the tent. Master Gerrick had one foreleg draped over her side, the sharp tips of his talons poking past the soft hairs of her underbelly. Another Mirror—one of her copies—was still asleep on his opposite side, curled up with her back against his.

Mirror pursed her lips. Lazy. Perhaps it was time for that copy to be culled.

Gerrick had his hind legs splayed out messily over the bedroll, and Mirror had to make a conscious effort not to take a peek at what she knew waited between them. Over the past few days her heat had grown from a mere annoyance to a real obstruction, and she was loath to distract herself with unnecessary daydreams when she had work to do. Her horn glowed as she wrapped her magic around his foreleg, gently peeling it off her.

A low growl escaped him as he tightened his grip, pulling her against him, and she had to stifle a gasp as his talons tickling over her belly made her leg twitch. He rolled over, draping a hindleg across her flank and mumbling something into her mane.

Mirror remained totally still, heart pounding as she listened to his breathing. After several seconds she decided he must still be asleep, and she finally let out the breath she’d been holding. If he woke up without a meal ready then he’d probably just make one out of her instead; he cared very little for which of her copies was the “original,” and wouldn’t hesitate to take a lethal bite out of whichever mare happened to be in his grip already.

A tremble passed through her.

One wrong move—a stroke of bad luck—and he’d open her up in his sleep.

She bit her lip as a drip of arousal snaked down her leg. She could handle her heat on its own, but there was something about the fear of death that threw her mind into overdrive. She flicked her tail, feeling the weight of Gerrick’s balls.

It had been over a week since he’d indulged in her.

Equestria was like a field of flowers for him. Just as Mirror had predicted, the gullible pony maid from Equestria had roused a certain hunger in the griffon’s loins, and everywhere they went there were more mares and stallions, all so innocent, all so easy to trick, to isolate. Even just walking from one town to another exposed him to a veritable parade of possible toys, and every day he would pick one or two that caught his eye. Sometimes he’d order Mirror to assist, and she’d put on a friendly face, or perhaps feign weakness or terror from an unknown monster. It was easy enough to lure a helpful pony off the worn dirt paths and into some shadowed glen. At that point they were already dead, their fate determined entirely by Gerrick’s whims.

Other days, when Gerrick had his blood hot and they had the relative privacy of the small mountain trails and hoofpaths that wandered the Equestrian countryside, he wouldn’t bother with any pretense. Just yesterday they’d come across a thickset earth mare traveling alone with a small wagon full of flowers. Gerrick had taken one look at her, clicked his beak thoughtfully, and pounced on her without hesitation.

She had perhaps a brief second to scream before he’d torn her throat out, and he was already sliding his barbed shaft into her cunt as her blood gushed out into the dirt.

Mirror, much to her chagrin, was left to watch.

She squirmed in place, rubbing the lips of her marehood together. Watching him play with another mare always excited her, and she’d been left to satisfy herself with hoof and horn while he ate the used body. She needed him to hold her down, to take her in that way only he could, caring for her life only just enough to consider if he wanted to take it.

She grimaced and snuck a hoof down under her tail, feeling her pulse between her legs. She’d worked herself up and now she wouldn’t be able to focus.

But she still needed to prepare breakfast.

Then again… she could be in two places at once.

It took her almost a minute to work herself out of Gerrick’s grip, sliding down his belly and between his hind legs. Turning to the tent flap, she closed her eyes and cast her copy spell with bated breath.

When she opened her eyes, she was relieved to see that she was still crouched in the tent. Her fresh-born copy frowned at her from outside.

“This is very irresponsible of you,” the copy said. “You shouldn’t be daydreaming when you need to work.”

“Well, it’s too late now,” Mirror whispered back. “Go make breakfast, and next time I’ll do it.”

The copy gave a disapproving shake of her head. “Making copies to avoid work and satisfy yourself? You clearly need to be culled.”

“Oh, be quiet!” Mirror hissed. “Or are you going to sit and frown at me until the Master wakes up and we’re the only thing around to eat?”

They held each other’s gazes for a long second. Mirror had worked for Master Gerrick for a long time, and had used her copies extensively throughout, and she knew—they both knew—exactly what was really going on. The copy was just upset that she didn’t get to sate her heat. If Mirror had woken up in her place she’d feel exactly the same way, but luckily she hadn’t, and right now she wanted nothing more than the time to enjoy her luck.

Finally the copy stood up. With one last shake of her head she turned and stalked off, tail twitching in frustration.

Mirror wasted no time in closing the tent flap. Within seconds she was on her belly with one hoof snaked back between her legs, horn glowing as she lifted Master Gerrick’s leg to reveal her prize. His balls were draped heavily down the inside of his thigh, covered in a thin layer of steel grey fur.

She’d wake him up with her mouth, she decided. As long as he didn’t finish before breakfast was ready, she stood a decent chance of survival.

The thought might have given pause to another mare, but Mirror only licked her lips, leaning in to press her muzzle against his balls and drink in his scent. Perhaps a younger her might have hesitated, but she needed that risk to get off. It had been a long time since she’d reached orgasm without a proverbial axe hanging over her head.

Her tongue slipped out, curling around his balls as she softly sucked one into her mouth. A slight taste of sweat lingered, egging her on, and she let out a quiet moan. Her hoof worked a slow rhythm along the length of her slit, collecting the arousal drooling from within. Just a little bit of teasing to get him hard, first.

She didn’t have to wait long. Gerrick snorted, rolling sleepily onto his back as the head of his cock poked out from his sheath. Mirror watched with hungry eyes as it rose before her, sucking and licking at his balls all the while. In some ways Gerrick’s cock was the thing she lived for above all else. Though she still found some satisfaction in her duties as his head maidservant, they paled in comparison to the rush of putting her fragile life between his brutal talons.

She couldn’t wait any longer. She licked her way up his cock, delivering little kisses along the way to sample the taste, coaxing it into the stuffy air like a monster from its lair. By the time she reached the tip it had reached its full length. It twitched with the rhythm of his pulse, a glimmering bead of precum welling at the very tip, and she took it into her mouth with an eye-fluttering moan of lust, bobbing her head in sync with the hoof she had wedged up against her cunt.

It really had been too long.

The taste was familiar to her, carrying a masculine tang and the promise of greater things to come. She could barely focus on her plan with his cock sealed between her lips, and soon she found herself sitting up to get more leverage, sucking eagerly and grinding her hips into her hoof. Her pussy winked around her, begging to be filled, and she swallowed him smoothly into her throat. She was vaguely aware of his leg twitching and a sudden grunt from above her, but neither sensation pierced the fog of his musk. She pressed her nostrils up into his groin, drinking in a deep breath of the scent, and her marehood winked again in response, sending a shiver up her spine.

She moaned into him, perhaps a little louder than she’d thought.

“Mirror.” Sharp talons snaked through her mane, and she gasped as he pulled her off his cock. He regarded her with narrowed eyes. “Where’s my breakfast?”

A trail of drool was hanging from her chin, and she licked her lips in a vain attempt at cleaning it up. “Being prepared now, sir.”

He cocked his head, clacking his beak in thought. His gaze traveled down from her eyes, to her open mouth, to the heave of her chest.

Mirror had a very good sense for when Master Gerrick was thinking of killing her. Her arousal splattered quietly against the bedroll, and it took all her will to keep in the desperate moan building in her throat.

There was movement to the side, and both Mirror and Gerrick turned to watch as the copy snuggled against his flank—Mirror decided to think of her as Lazy—lifted her head. She blinked slowly, taking in the scene.

Finally, Gerrick spoke. “Very well. You may continue.” He released his grip, and Mirror fell immediately back to his cock. He looked to Lazy, jerking his head. “You, too.”

Mirror’s ears perked up at the order, and she moved to the side to give the other mare space to join her. They locked eyes as they split the cock between them, with Mirror continuing to suck at his head while Lazy dipped down to lick at his balls.

It had been a week since Lazy had been “born,” so Mirror couldn’t exactly know her thoughts like she would with a fresh copy, but the silent exchange that passed between them was clear. Whenever Master Gerrick fucked two Mirror Images, one always died.

Mirror had gone into this knowing there was a chance of death, but in her heat-addled mind she’d nearly forgotten about the other mare. Fifty-fifty was not good odds.

Her pulse quickened, and she looked away, focusing on the pre-dripping cock pulsing between her lips. It was a contest now. Only one of them was going to survive, and she just had to hope that she distinguished herself enough to be chosen.

Gerrick groaned as he settled back onto the bedroll, one mare draped over each hind leg as they slathered him with their attentions. The tent was soon filled with muffled feminine moans, the wet slurps of tongue on flesh, and the occasional quiet gag as he humped up into Mirror’s throat. She faltered briefly as she felt his talon pushing her hoof away from her slit, but shivered in pleasure as the talon pressed inside her a moment later. It slid up the length of her marehood before prodding at her swollen clit, driving a shaky moan out of her, and she melted back into it. Soon the first talon was joined by a second, and Gerrick began to fingerfuck her in earnest, the sharp tips of his claws tickling against her insides and making her twitch and giggle with each pulse of pleasure.

She barely noticed him grabbing hold of her mane until he pushed down with sudden strength. Her eyes bulged as her throat was suddenly filled with cock mid-breath and she began to gag. Rather than let her up to catch her breath, Gerrick pumped his hips, hilting against her muzzle and abusing the convulsions of her throat for his own pleasure.

Was he going to choke her with his cock? A nervous thrill raced through her, half panic, half lust, and her tail flagged high as he continued to pound roughly against her face. She’d stopped sucking by now; it was all she could do to hang onto his sides with her forehooves as he jerked her head up and down, flecks of spittle flying from her muzzle as a frothy trail of saliva drooled down his shaft and onto Lazy’s brow. His claws pistoned into her cunt from behind, sending hot waves of pleasure racing up her spine, and just as she thought was about to catch her breath and adjust to the wild facefucking, he pressed her down to the base of his shaft and didn’t let up.

Mirror’s first reaction was to moan around his cock, the vibrations drawing a snort of pleasure from above her. Then her fuck-drunk mind caught up and realized that she couldn’t breathe—and he wasn’t showing any signs of letting her—and the adrenaline flooded her veins, turning the pleasant tingles from the talons in her cunt to lightning strikes of ecstasy.

Her orgasm kept most of the terror at bay. She twitched helplessly, pussy winking in search of the cock currently embedded in her throat, and she groaned as a spurt of marecum squirted out past Gerrick’s knuckles. The darkness began to edge in at the corners of her vision as her infinity stretched on, the high of asphyxiation adding another layer of bliss and pushing the last of the fear out. He was killing her on his cock, and at that moment she was too horny to care.

But her rapture didn’t last forever, and the heart-stopping fear reared up like a viper. Her eyes widened as she came down from her high and she began to struggle, pushing against his legs, but she was far too weak to overpower him. His grip on her body didn’t move an inch.

Suddenly the pressure on her head vanished, and she shot up off his cock, struggling to expel the spit clogging her throat. She fell onto her back, gasping in great big breaths between the aftershocks of her orgasm as the darkness ringing her sight faded away.

Now if she could just get him to do that to her with his cock stuffing her cunt, she’d be satisfied.


Gerrick had been right on the edge, just seconds away from cumming, when he’d decided against it.

Among his peers back home, all griffon nobles with their own populations of pony peasantry, he was considered somewhat of a simple drake. While others might invest in expensive and intricate tools of torture, dungeons staffed by crews of trained sadists that could break a prey pony’s mind while barely harming the body, or master chefs that waxed on and on about the unique tastes that could be added to pony flesh by marinating the victim in different emotions prior to cooking, he considered them to be wasteful. Why would he want rope to hold a mare when he had perfectly good talons? Why use a knife when he could rip and tear with his beak and enjoy the taste of the freshest blood?

Maybe he really did just have bland tastes, but there was nothing more satisfying to him than killing his prey with his own natural strength.

Despite this, he did still enjoy some variety in his activities. Indeed, it was that thirst for new flavor that had driven him from his comfortable home, where he could select ponies at leisure to satisfy his hungers with no concern for potential consequences, and into this strange, naive, pony country.

Which was why he decided against choking his mare to death on his cock. Sure, the convulsions of a dying mare’s throat worked wonders for his orgasm, but he’d already done that three times this week, and he wanted to start the day off with something else.

So he’d decided to let her live a little longer. And now he stood over Mirror Image, idly stroking his balls and watching her twitch and spasm on the ground. She still had that eyes-fluttering, pupils-dilated, mouth-open look that she got whenever she came on his cock, and he gave himself a moment to drink it all in, eyeing the little scratches he’d given her around her body and the way her marehood winked between her legs, her clit twitching as if begging for his seed.

He stepped forward, wrapping one taloned hand around her neck as he slid his length across her lips, slicking himself with hot marecum. She let out a weak mewl, one hoof coming up to grab at his foreleg as he drew his hips back.

“Excuse me, sir.” The other Mirror Image slid up to Gerrick’s side with a sly, hungry smile. She crawled on top of the dazed mare on the ground, belly to belly, and flicked her tail up under Gerrick’s chin. “But may I present myself as an alternative option?” She gave a little shake of her hips, and her pussy joined in with a juicy wink, presenting her swollen clit.

Internally, Gerrick frowned. It was unlike Mirror to interrupt him in the middle of sex, let alone try to actually entice him. Normally she was impassive, quiet, focused on her work. She never turned him down, of course, but she also never went out of her way to get between his legs. It was only after he warmed her up that the formal, reserved mare would show any enthusiasm.

She didn’t even have his breakfast ready when he woke up. Had she been blowing him as some kind of stalling tactic to buy time for another copy to cook? He’d been neglecting her lately, playing with the more exciting Equestrians in her stead.

Was she… frustrated?

No matter, he decided. Whatever the issue was, it would be resolved with a quick culling.

Externally, his hesitation lasted only a moment. Culling or not, he still had a throbbing erection to service, and the sight of both Mirror’s presenting before him, their moans echoing in his ears, was only making him harder.

He grabbed tail in one claw and plot in the other, pulling and spreading to reveal the honeypot before him. Two swollen, twitching marehoods, each the color of smooth milk chocolate, their lips locked together in a lustful embrace broken only by the hot pink of their winking clits.

And the scent. The top Mirror flicked her tail across his face, marking him with her heat, and conscious thought left him.

He was already aligned. He thrust forwards roughly, uncaring which hole he found, and a wild snort escaped him as warm, wet marecunt enveloped his length. His grip tightened, talons piercing the soft skin of the ass beneath them, and his balls slapped against the lower Mirror’s pussy, receiving a kiss from her clit in return.

The feminine moan from his first plunge was still ringing in his ears as he pulled out, hips developing a steady but fierce rhythm. The wet smack of flesh on flesh filled the tent as he leaned over his mare, her flanks rippling with the force of each thrust. At the same time she worked her hips against him, clenching her walls around his length every time he hilted as if begging him not to leave and then relaxing to welcome him back every time he pulled out.

Gerrick had fucked countless mares over the course of his life, but he always found himself coming back to Mirror Image. Her pussy felt almost made for him, a perfect fit, squeezing his cock from every side with a grip so tight that it forced drops of hot marecum out between their bodies. He closed his eyes, relishing the ripple of her cunt across his length when he pulled out and the loud squelch it made every time he slammed back home. The hot, frothy mixture from their union dripped down his balls before pooling on the bedroll, soaking into the hairs that Mirror normally kept so carefully clean. She burned like a furnace inside, the chill air that rushed over his groin between thrusts only a brief respite, and soon sweat was pouring down Gerrick’s brow, splattering against her bouncing plot.

The air in the tent grew thick with the humid stench of sex, and not once did he slow down. He only pressed on, drawing blood when he flexed his talons and forcing Mirror’s moans ever higher. He pulled her against him by the tail, every muscle in his body working to drive him further into her, driven on by the overwhelming instinct to breed.

He released his grip on her ass and grabbed a clawful of mane instead, yanking her head back as she let out a shuddering, throaty moan. He pulled harder, lifting her up off the lower mare until he had her shoulders against his chest and was glaring down into her lidded, fluttering eyes, watching her tongue loll from her open mouth, every part of her body pressed up against him but for the small space formed by her arching back. She could barely move with him pulling so hard, but she still had the presence of mind to grind her rear against him, body trembling in pleasure.

A low growl escaped him as the pressure in his cock built, approaching his orgasm, making Mirror’s ears flick. She blinked, hazy eyes focusing for a brief moment on his, and then she came.

Mirror’s eyes rolled back and she let out a shrill wail, her pussy clenching as he hilted inside her, so tight he could barely pull free. He managed three more pumps past that vice-like tightness, feeling the tremors of her body against his, and then he reached the point of no return.

He pulled her tight against him as he hilted inside, grinding against her furiously winking cunt, heat dripping down his clenching balls, and the first spurt of cum rushed out to flood her marehood. As the second shot came he darted in with his beak, tearing into her exposed throat, and ripped free with a vicious shake.

Her orgasmic scream collapsed into a wet gurgle as blood welled up in her mouth, but she never stopped grinding against him. Gerrick let hot blood drip from his beak and down onto her face as he watched her cum, her mind so lost in rapture that he wondered if she even realized she was dying.

Whatever the case, she didn’t last long with her throat ripped open. Within seconds the passionate gyrations of her hips weakened into scattered twitches and the trembles of pleasure wracking her hooves drifted to nothing. Gerrick groaned as he pumped two more shots of cum into her pussy, and then he was cumming into a corpse.

He held her tight for a long moment after, enjoying the little shudders from her cunt as the last messages from her dying brain arrived to please him. He leaned in and licked at the blood dripping from the gaping wound in her neck as the aftershocks of his orgasm sent small twitches of bliss through his length, the overflow of cum drooling down his shaft.

Finally, Mirror’s pussy went lax. He released her, allowing the body to slump forwards with a soft thud and a last, breathy wheeze.

Gerrick took a deep breath as the temporary madness of lust left him. He tugged his softening cock from the mare’s limp body, pondering breakfast, and only then did he remember that there were two Mirrors in need of culling.

He looked down, spotting the other Mirror looking up at him past the corpse of her copy, her face painted red with blood. There was a strange look in her eyes, something between frustration and relief.

He blinked, and it was gone. She offered him a polite, servile smile. “Are you ready for breakfast, sir?”

“I’ll see about breakfast myself, Mirror,” he said, leaning in. She grunted as his bulk joined the weight of the dead mare above her. “I’m sure the copy you sent to prepare it will be pleased to replace you.”

Mirror blinked. There was a moment of confusion, and then a wide-eyed flash of realization, and then Gerrick’s beak was buried in the soft flesh under her chin. She had just enough time to babble some incoherent words past the blood welling in her muzzle, and then she, too, fell still.

He straightened up with a satisfied sigh, absently noting the last wink of the fresh corpse’s cunt against his receding cock, and then stood up. He groaned as he stretched his legs, working out the cramps that had built up in the heat of his lust.

He really was hungry, too.


Mirror Image shivered, looking up from the pot of stew she’d just finished preparing on the campfire. The smell of seasoned earth mare wafted out from the pot, accented with spices purchased during their last town stop.

She had just become the new “original.” The mare that had summoned her, irresponsibly sending her off to do her tasks while she indulged in her passions, had gotten what she deserved.

Master Gerrick walked out of their tent with blood on his beak and dripping down the gold feathers of his plumage. Behind him, she caught a brief glimpse of two still bodies.

“Morning, Mirror,” he said, scanning the little clearing of their campsite. “Breakfast ready?”

“Yes, sir.” Mirror smiled, already filling a bowl for her master with her magic. “Shall I clean the bodies?”

“Make it quick, if you will.” He accepted the bowl and settled down against a tree, tongue darting out to lick the blood from his beak. “There’s plenty more of Equestria to see.”

II: Mirror Image Collects Firewood

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“Mirror, where’s the fire?”

Mirror Image frowned, tossing her mane as she straightened up to clear the sweat from her brow. “I sent a copy to collect firewood, sir. She hasn’t come back yet.”

Master Gerrick clacked his beak in annoyance. He looked up to the sky, where the warm hues of sunset were giving ground to the cool blue of early night. “Well, how much longer? It’ll be cold soon, and I’m getting hungry.”

Mirror pursed her lips. It had been a fairly uneventful day of travel; the last village was days behind them, and the road had been all but empty except for a few small-time tradesponies and their wagons. They were passing through a swamp when Master Gerrick had called a stop and ordered her to prepare the camp while he searched the surrounding area for some fresh meat—he was in a sporting mood after the long walk, it seemed—and so she’d gone about her usual routine. She already had the tent pitched and the wagon stowed under tree cover off the road, and another copy was preparing a firepit and cooking utensils.

But the copy she’d sent to forage for wood and berries had yet to return.

“I’ll send another, sir.” Even besides the needs of her master, Mirror wanted that fire started. Camping in cold, humid, night time swampland didn’t sound very appealing, and if any predators tried to brave their camp, it would be her or one of her copies that would end up paying for it. And the darker it got, the harder it would be to find good firewood, so if something had happened to the first copy she sent, she didn’t want to waste any time waiting longer.

“See that you do.” Master Gerrick nodded before brushing past her and slipping into the tent. “You can entertain me while we wait.”

“Yes, sir.” Mirror smiled as she turned away from the tent, gathering her magic. She closed her eyes, weaving the arcane energy into the familiar shape of her most-used spell—

She opened her eyes, and her smile fell to a frown as she realized she’d drawn the short straw. The original Mirror was still smiling at her, no doubt glad she’d get to have some quality time with the master.

“Go on, quickly,” the original said, already turning for the tent. “We don’t want to keep the master waiting.”

Mirror sighed, but didn’t protest. Instead she started toward the edge of the little roadside clearing where they’d made camp, grabbing a collar from their luggage wagon and casting a quick spell to apply her makeup. She followed the tracks of the copy that had first been sent to forage at a quick trot. With luck, she had just gotten lost, and all Mirror would have to do is find her and bring her back to camp.

The ground grew softer as she put more distance between herself and the road, and soon Mirror found herself walking along narrow, winding paths between murky pools of dark water. The trees thickened, and as the last dregs of sunlight faded, she was left in near-total darkness, with only the pale green glow of her horn to illuminate the coarse, belly-height grass scratching at her legs. She frowned as she grabbed a small branch and floated it up to her eyes, noting the dampness of the wood. No wonder her copy hadn’t come back yet; there was hardly any good firewood around.

Mirror, glanced behind her, ears flicking at the croaking of the frogs and the chirping of the insects. The camp had long disappeared into the darkness, and for a moment she considered turning back. But no, Master Gerrick would almost certainly kill her if she returned empty-hooved, and there was also her pride at stake; it was the job of the master to make unrealistic requests, and the job of the maid to fulfill them anyways. Any difficulties she had to overcome in the process belonged well beneath his notice, and she wouldn’t shame herself by bringing them to his attention.

There was a rustle of leaves above her. Mirror jumped, startled by the sudden noise, and looked up. She could just make out the shape of the branches overhead, silhouetted by starlight… and something else.

She yelped, leaping back as something big shifted above her, and narrowly avoided being struck by a pony-sized shadow that fell out of the trees. It hit the ground with a dull, wet smack, disappearing in the grass.

A few seconds passed in silence. Cautiously Mirror stepped forwards, ears swiveling, ready to flee at any sign of danger. She pushed more power into her horn, brightening its glow as she reached out and pulled the grass aside.

Her own face gaped back up at her, bloodied and bruised. The missing copy’s corpse was bent out of shape in several places, still twitching with the last dregs of life, and her belly had been torn open, revealing an empty, red space where her guts should’ve been. That was all Mirror’s panicked mind registered before she turned, throwing herself into a gallop straight back for the camp.

She made it two steps before the branches shook mightily above her, and an instant later something slender but firm snapped around her neck.

“Hrrk!” Her eyes bulged as the thing jerked her back, pulling her off her hooves. She scratched at it in vain, trying to get some grip, but it was covered in slick scales.

A sibilant hiss sounded beside her, and Mirror’s blood went cold as she felt a serpentine tongue flicking over the sensitive fluff inside her ear.

“What a pleassant ssurprisse.” The voice was feminine and breathy, speaking in a sinister tone that hinted at darker thoughts left unspoken. “Just as the firsst mare ssettless, a ssecond sstumbless into ssight!”

Mirror continued to struggle as she was hauled up into the trees, but her captor didn’t budge in the slightest. It set her down onto a thick branch, its grip on her throat remaining firm, and she let out a strangled cry as she finally got a good look at her attacker.

The first thing she saw was the huge, striped tiger’s head, its massive fangs curving down past its chin and already stained red with the blood of its last victim. Then her eyes darted over to the grinning goat head leering over the tiger’s shoulder, chipped horns decorated with drooping intestines and its mouth open to reveal sharp predator teeth mixed in with flat molars. Finally the wide head of a snake bobbed into view, and Mirror whimpered as she realized that it was the thing still flexing tight around her neck, cutting off her breath.

“How strange,” the tiger head said, its voice deep and scratchy. “This one looks just like the other!”

“Do you think she tastes the same, too?” the goat asked eagerly. It leaned forwards, its wide tongue slicking over Mirror’s face as she cringed back, and its breath carried the stench of death. “I want first bite!”

Mirror’s mouth flapped uselessly as she gasped for breath, but the snake only squeezed tighter. Her vision began to darken as the pressure in her skull grew, wet tears leaving streaks of mascara across her cheeks, and she was faintly aware of moisture sinking into her tail as she pissed herself in terror.

The pressure vanished as she was tossed off the branch. Mirror tried to suck in a breath during the brief instant of freefall, only to have it knocked out of her as she hit the ground hard. She spent an agonizing second sprawled out in the coarse grass, blinking and dazed, and again, just as she was able to get a breath, it was knocked out of her as the chimera landed heavily atop her.

She didn’t have the air to scream, but she did manage a quiet squeal. Pain flashed in her shoulder as claws dug into her flesh and flipped her onto her back.

Something hard and hot forced itself into her gaping muzzle. Mirror’s throat convulsed in protest as the intruder sank deeper, her collar snapping painfully as her neck bulged. She gagged, unable to do anything more but twitch and spasm helplessly around the thing as it pumped viciously down her gullet, deeper every time.

She could barely think past the shock and confusion. Some subconscious part of her realized that the chimera was raping her throat, clued in by the smack of its heavy balls over her eyes and the powerful scent of its masculine musk flooding her nostrils, but that realization was faint beneath the desperate urge to breathe. She snuck in quick breaths whenever it pulled out, the barbs along its tapered cock scraping harshly across her throat, but it was never enough to quell the panic filling her mind. All she could do was lie there, pushing weakly against the chimera’s goat legs, kept on the torturous edge of consciousness by her stolen snorts of oxygen as the back of her head was pounded into the wet grass.

She barely heard the chimera growling above her, but she felt it in the vibrations that traveled through its cock. She whined around its length as it sunk the claws of one paw into her belly, holding her in place, the wounds growing gradually larger as every thrust pushed her across the ground, and out of the corner of her eye she spotted the snake head hovering lower, its gaze focused on the space between her legs.

Mirror’s eyes screwed up as she felt the forked tongue of the snake head inside her thighs, followed shortly by its scales as it pressed against her lower lips. It was far wider than any cock she’d ever taken, but it was relentless, pushing and twisting and coaxing its way inside her, making her eyes water in pain as she was stretched wider than she was ever meant to. Finally, just as she was sure her hip would pop apart from the pressure, the snake head plunged fully inside her, leaving her sore marehood to clench and shudder reflexively around it.

The snake head was wide and coarse, forcing its way deeper inside her with quick, merciless jerks, with only the lingering piss from her previous terror to serve as lube. She winced when it bumped up against her cervix, pausing briefly to flick its tongue out into her womb, and then it tensed, coiling up before stabbing back into her like a battering ram. Mirror clenched in an instinctive attempt to push the thing out of her, but all that got her was more pain as the sensitive walls of her pussy were bloodied by its scales.

Tears flowed freely down Mirror’s cheeks as the ruthless rape continued, the tips of her hooves beginning to go cold as blood poured from the wound on her belly and dripped from her marehood. She wanted to die, to finally give in to the head-pounding darkness, but the burning in her lungs wouldn’t let her. No matter how hard she tried, her body would suck in every breath it could, keeping her on the very edge of consciousness.

There was a sharp pain in her cunt as her cervix finally gave in, letting the snake head squeeze into her womb. She whimpered at the sensation of the thing sliding around inside her, feeling her belly bulge in response. There was a sudden lance of white-hot agony, followed by a twist, and she had enough air in her to scream around the chimera’s cock as the snake head began to quite literally eat her out. At the same time she felt a grinding pain in her hind leg as the goat head grabbed her hind leg in the flat teeth at the back of its mouth, jerking the limb side to side until it popped out of its joint.

Thankfully, she was beyond pain by that point. Merciful endorphins flooded her system, swathing her in an odd calmness as the goat head tore her leg free in a spray of blood. She went limp, the only motion of her body now the rippling of her soft teats as the chimera continued to throatfuck her and the bulge of the snake head worming its way deeper into her gut. She tracked its progress with distant curiosity, feeling the tugs as it ate its way through her womb, slurped through her intestines, and chewed into her stomach. Her eyes lost focus, rolling up into her skull as her body began to twitch violently in a last, wild attempt at survival. The chimera pushed its claws into her harder in response, jamming its cock up against her muzzle, its balls tightening over her nostrils, and her throat bulged as it pumped the first shot of hot cum down her gullet.

She barely felt it. She was just a spasming mass of meat now, clinging to the last dregs of consciousness as she was filled with thick seed and blood. They mixed together before leaking through the hole torn into her stomach, bloating her gut and then finally dripping into her pussy, the pressure building until it was forced out of her from every side—leaking from the wounds in her belly, dripping from her lips trembling around its cock, and spraying past the tight seal of her twitching cunt clenched around the snake head’s body.

The last thing she felt was her belly splitting open—whether from the claws of her rapist or the pressure of the cum inside her, she couldn’t know—and then she was mercifully free.


Back at camp, Gerrick clacked his beak in frustration.

Mirror rubbed a hoof into his plumage, nuzzling into his side. “Is something wrong, sir?”

“You know what’s wrong,” he said tersely. “Neither of those copies have come back, and we still have no fire. Now I’m not only hungry, but also cold.”

There was a brief moment of silence before Mirror responded. “Would you like me to make a copy for dinner?”

“No, what I’d like is a nice fire.” He looked down at her with a scowl.

She grimaced, looking away. “I’m sorry, sir. Something must have caught them, else they’d surely be back by now.”

“I don’t care.” Gerrick shook his head, turning his scowl to the roof of his tent. “I want my damn fire. Send as many mares as it takes.”

III: Master Gerrick Patronizes Local Business

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Earthly Mellow wore a soft smile on her lips as she turned the page of the magazine propped up between her forelegs. Trenderhoof Trotside was the most popular travel periodical in Equestria, and she always looked forward to the arrival of her monthly edition. She’d get up early on the fifth day of every month so she could walk down to the Wayward Pines Post Office and grab it almost right off the mail chariot, and then she’d settle down under the big oak on the way back to read the editor’s note at the front.

She’d never read it all at once though, no matter how much she may want to. She only got one edition every month, after all, and she wanted to make them last. She loved reading about all the exciting, exotic places around the world, both within and without Equestrian borders, imagining herself dressed up in the local styles highlighted in the fashion column or searching the local grocery store for the spices used in the restaurant reviews. She dreamed that one day she’d go on a world-spanning journey of her own, and she had a corkboard in her room where she pinned up photos and played around with the itineraries she prepared for all the cities she was interested in seeing one day.

But no matter how long she stretched it, each edition rarely lasted more than a couple weeks. She had plenty of older magazines to read after, but it just wasn’t the same.

This latest edition was all about Saddle Arabia. Mellow looked up to the long mirror beside her bed, imagining herself trotting through the arid streets of the capital. She could swap her green-and-black scarf for a beautiful patterned shemagh from a local seamstress. Perhaps she’d even meet Trenderhoof himself there, and he’d write an article about the adventures they had together, just a pony and a deer and a city full of culture.

She jumped at a sudden knock at her door. “Mellow, dear? You’ve got a customer.”

“Thanks, Night! I’ll be out in a sec!” Mellow called, sliding off her bed and stashing her magazine in the desk under her corkboard.

She did a quick stretch before stepping up to the mirror and checking her makeup. It had got a little smudged since her last customer, so she put a bit more blush on her freckled cheeks and ran a comb through her walnut-brown mane. She didn’t wear as much makeup as the other mares—she was the smallest one, and most of her customers preferred her looking more innocent—so all that was left was to slip into her long white sleeves and strike a quick pose. She smiled into the mirror, popped her hip out, and twitched her tail. In a small town like Wayward Pines, a deer was extremely exotic, and none of the stallions could resist the white flash of her doe tail when she gave them the look.

Her room was on the second floor of the little town’s only brothel, a building she shared with two other mares. Cherry Blossom had the room beside her—she was busy with a customer, if the rhythmic thudding against their shared wall was any indication—and the house matron, Night Sabre, took customers in her rooms on the ground floor. It was a little cramped, but Mellow didn’t mind. It was cheaper to live at work, which meant she could save more for her dream trip, and she spent a lot of her free time walking the woods around the town anyway.

Night was waiting in the foyer when Mellow came down the stairs, leaned back into a couch and casually spreading her legs towards a steel-furred griffon standing near the door, his plumage gleaming like gold in the warm sunset streaming through the windows.

“Oh, here she is now,” Night cooed, smiling at the doe. She was a bat pony, and still good-looking for her age. Visitors from out-of-town never guessed she was a mother to seven. “Master Gerrick, this is Earthly Mellow. She’ll be serving you tonight.”

Master Gerrick met her eyes with a cool, judging gaze, openly looking her over. “A doe?”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Night said, beckoning Mellow closer and nuzzling suggestively into her white chest fluff. “Between the two of us, we have all the exotic flavor in Wayward Pines. Though if you were hoping to sample more local tastes, we do have a pegasus mare available as well.”

“The doe is fine, thank you.” Gerrick opened a wing, and Mellow smiled as she walked over to his side, letting him wrap it around her. A griffon customer! There were no griffons in Wayward Pines, which meant he had to be a traveler of some kind, and that meant he’d have stories for her! Unless he was one of those quiet types, but even then, Mellow found that studs tended to open up after a roll in the hay.

“It’s nice to meet you, Master Gerrick.” Mellow rubbed a hooftip into his plumage, feeling the firm muscle hidden by his feathers. He was so much bigger than her! “I hope we can have some fun tonight.”

Night cleared her throat, drawing Mellow’s attention. “Now, Mellow, Master Gerrick is a noble from outside Equestria, and he’s got a nice room down at the Merry Girdler. He’s paid extra to take you back there. Is that alright with you, hun?”

Mellow nodded, nuzzling Gerrick’s side. “That’s fine, Night.”

“Alrighty, then. You have until noon tomorrow to bring her back safe and sound, Master Gerrick, or I’ll have to send the sheriff down looking. Have fun, now!”

Mellow smiled back at Night as she let Gerrick guide her out into the street with his wing. She stayed close as they walked, enjoying the feel of his feathers on her side, her smile growing. He’d paid to have her all night? He must be well off to be able to spare that kind of money, which made sense if he was some foreign noble. What a griffon like him would be doing in a sleepy town like this was a mystery, and Mellow was looking forward to solving it. They weren’t between any big or important places in Equestria, so they didn’t usually get a lot of travelers, but Night was always kind enough to give Mellow any customers from out of town.

“So you’re a noble?” Mellow asked, looking up at him as they walked. “Should I just call you Master, or would you prefer something else? Count, Prince, my Lord?” She bit her lip, hoping to entice him, but he didn’t even glance towards her.

“Just ‘sir’ will do,” he said curtly.

Mellow frowned, then tried again. “Have you ever been with a doe before, sir, or am I your first?” In her peripheral vision she saw a few townsponies watching them, but she paid them no mind. Most of the adults knew her, so they were probably just curious about the unfamiliar griffon.

“There are some deer on my land,” Gerrick answered, his eyes roaming the street before them. “I’ve had them before.”

Oh, so he had land? Mellow would definitely have to ask him about that! He didn’t seem very receptive to small talk at the moment, though; he would probably be all business until she climbed into his bed. Mellow was just wondering if she should try opening him up again when he turned abruptly off the street, tugging her with him into a shadowed alley.

Where was he taking her? The Merry Girdler was on Main Street! She tried to pull away, and the grip of his wing suddenly shifted from comforting to restricting. “H-hey! What are you—”

He slammed her into the ground without warning, driving the breath out of her as stars popped in her eyes. “Quiet, whore.” His talons wrapped tight around her throat, cutting off her breath.

She gaped up at him in shock, instinctively pushing at his face with her hooves, but she could barely reach, and when she tried to pry his claws off her neck he only squeezed tighter, pressing into her skin with the sharp tips. What was going on? She’d heard of prostitutes being attacked by customers before, but never in a sleepy little town like hers! That was something that only happened in Canterlot or Manehattan or mystery novels, not to her!

But disbelief wouldn’t help her breathe. She grew light-headed as darkness crept in around her vision, and after a few more seconds weakly pounding against Gerrick’s chest, her hooves fell limp into the dirt.


A half hour’s flight later, Gerrick shrugged the unconscious doe whore off his back and onto the hard floor of a cave far from town. The sun had all but set by now, leaving the cave dark and foreboding, lit only by the campfire Mirror Image was stoking at its mouth.

“Welcome back, sir,” Mirror said, dipping her head respectfully. “Is she for dinner?”

“Maybe. It’s been a while since I had venison.” Gerrick clacked his beak in thought as he regarded the doe. He had to admit, she’d stirred a slight arousal in him with her rubbing and prodding, and it had only grown stronger when he felt her struggling under his weight. And she had an innocent naivete about her he wasn’t used to seeing in deer, no doubt a result of an Equestrian upbringing. She could be fun to play with. “Mirror, grab the chain and tie her up, would you?”

“Yes, sir,” a second Mirror answered, slipping out of their tent and trotting to their wagon. She returned with the requested chain, looping it once around a boulder in the cave before walking up to the whore. “How would you like her tied?”

“Just do one leg.”

The second Mirror nodded, wrapping the chain several times around one of the whore’s hind legs and securing it with a padlock. “Anything else, sir?”

“That’s fine for now,” Gerrick said, tracing a claw through the doe’s soft white underbelly. “Take the wagon into town and get us a room at The Merry Girdler. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Yes, sir.”

Gerrick sat in silence as his maids quickly packed up the tent, the original hitching herself to the wagon while her copy climbed into the back. They left the campfire going, and soon the only sounds were the chirping of the crickets, the crackle of the fire, and the quiet breathing of the whore chained to a boulder before him.

She was a pretty little thing. Her brunette mane went well with the brown of her coat, complemented by the shocks of white on her cheeks, her puffy tail, and her underbelly. She wore a set of long white sleeves on her legs and a striped black-and-green scarf, and she stirred slightly as he pulled the scarf away, revealing the slender curve of her neck.

He lifted her unrestrained hind leg to reveal her marehood, a darker brown than the rest of her coat that reminded him of chocolate. It was tight and smooth, her pussy lips keeping together even with one leg high in the air, and he had to pull them apart with a talon to reveal the bright pink tunnel nestled inside.

She groaned softly as he ran his talon the length of her slit, poking it briefly inside to feel at her concealed clit, and then pulled it back out to trace slow circles around her teats. He slid his claws higher, palming one of the fleshy little orbs, and gave it a tight squeeze, drawing pinpricks of blood around it where his claws pierced her skin.

She jerked, her green eyes flying open with a gasp. He waited, continuing to knead and pull at her flesh, entranced by the way it bounced back when he relaxed his grip.

“W-where am I?” Mellow blinked in confusion, a grimace crossing her face as he sliced a thin line around her nipple. “A-ow! Wh—who are you?!”

Gerrick snorted as her gaze finally focused on him. “Forget your job already, whore?”

She froze, a strangled cry dying in her throat as she recognized him. She flinched as he pinched one of her nipples, and with a start she scrambled to her hooves, running for the mouth of the cave with a full-throated scream.

The scream cut off with a yelp as the chain yanked at her leg, slamming her face into the cold stone and leaving the pale white of her shivering ass up in the air.

Gerrick felt his cock sliding free at the sight, and he let out a low, possessive growl as he stepped up behind her. Mellow squealed, hiding her face in her hooves as he grabbed her ass, peeling her pussy lips apart with his thumbs.

“P-please don’t hurt me!” He could barely hear her begs past her hooves, but he enjoyed the way her stutters grew worse as he worked his claws closer to her honeypot. “I’ve g-g-got money! I c-can p-pay you and I’ll n-n-never tell!”

Gerrick leaned in, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath of her mare scent. It was earthy and crisp, almost like grass after a rainstorm. The heat radiating out of her was so enticing that he couldn’t resist the urge to slip his tongue inside her, relishing the way she jerked and sobbed when the sharp edges of his beak scraped inside her soft cunt.

Mellow groaned, and the chain clinked against his leg as she tried vainly to pull away. “Stop, stop, s-stop! I d-don’t want this!”

Gerrick only pushed into her deeper, a low, content hum in the back of his throat as he felt her tunnel squeeze around his tongue. She was tight, almost sucking him deeper into her despite her protests, and the thought of feeling that grip around his cock had it pulsing with anticipation between his legs. He pulled back, spitting a wad of saliva under her tail, and slid up over her back.

“N-no! No, no, no!” He ignored Mellow’s begging, poking the tip of his cock against her. He could feel her pulse through her cunt, quick and frantic, and after taking a few seconds to lube himself with his spit, he began to push.

She squealed, going rigid, and Gerrick frowned as he found himself unable to get past the tightly clamped lips of her pussy. He growled, trying again, tail flicking in frustration behind him when his cock slid up into the soft hairs of her tail.

“Open up, whore!” He slapped her ass, making her whimper, but to no avail. He leaned over her with a snarl and wrapped his talons up in her mane, pulling her face up so he could glare into her watery eyes. “Open, or I’ll rip you open.”

“P-please…” Her body jerked with a heavy sob, and Gerrick’s eyes widened as he felt something warm and wet splattering against his hind legs. He drew back with a hiss, but too late—she’d pissed all over him.

“Enough of this,” Gerrick growled. He grabbed her ass roughly in one claw, lifted a talon to her tightly clenched pussy, and forced it inside.

Mellow shrieked. “Okay, okay! I’ll listen!”

She relaxed around his claw, and when he pulled it out, it was stained red with blood. Gerrick mounted her once more, pressing her face into the stone with his bloodied talons, and let out a moan of satisfaction as the head of his cock slipped into her warm depths.

“There we go. Good whore.” He grunted, pulling back and thrusting, but she was so tight that he barely got any further inside. He lifted her head and smacked it back into the stone. “Relax!”

“I a-a-am!” she whined, shivering around him. Gerrick growled, gripping her ass hard enough to draw blood as he shoved himself deeper, overpowering her body with brute force.

The doe continued to cry and shudder as he forced his way deeper into her, pushing more blood out. Despite her claims she was clamped around him like a vice, wrapping his cock in trembling, moist warmth that sent thrills of pleasure up his spine with every motion. Her marehood convulsed around him, almost pushing him out with every beat of her heart, and with a frustrated grunt he leaned forwards, putting all of his weight into a single, furious thrust.

Mellow screamed as Gerrick’s balls slapped against her ass. He felt her every muscle go rigid, felt her love tunnel squeezing almost painfully hard around him, felt her hind legs flapping uselessly in the air around his, and he smiled.

Fresh blood splattered on the stone as he pulled out, and his smile widened when he thrust back in and faced far less resistance than previously. He fucked her hard, filling the cave with the echoing sound of her pained screams, the loud smacks of his thighs against her ass, and the wet splats of the blood falling to the cave floor every time he pulled out. His fur was soon soaking wet, and he had no illusions about its nature; her marehood was gushing blood by now, the flow lending a pleasant, tingling warmth around his cock. He threw his head back, pounding into her with long, hard thrusts that lifted her hooves into the air, breath quickening as each pump pushed him closer to orgasm.

“P-please…” Mellow’s voice was growing weaker, her screams gradually giving way to quiet moans. “L-let me go…”

He grunted as he noticed her convulsions growing fainter. He sank his claws deeper into her flank, a flash of pleasure surging through him as she yelped and her pussy tightened briefly around him. He kept his claws dug in deep, moving them slightly with each thrust in to make her tighten up in pain.

He hunched over her as his orgasm approached, pressing his chest to her back and burying his beak into her mane, taking a deep breath of the scent of her fear. He reached a claw around to her chest to feel her racing heart and moved his beak to her ear, speaking in a low, strained voice as his fucking grew wild and short.

“Are you ready to die, whore?”

“P-please,” Mellow gasped, voice shaking with the force of his thrusts. “L-let me… outside…”

“No.” Gerrick snorted, squeezing her tight against him, forcing her to lay in the puddle of blood beneath them as he pushed more words out. “You’ll die—mmf!—here in this cave, alone and—nrgh!—chained.”

“No!” Mellow’s eyes widened, her voice suddenly finding new strength, and she reached a hoof weakly for the cave entrance. “No!”

Gerrick grinned, drinking in the terror visible in the doe’s eyes, and hilted inside her a final time. He groaned as his cock swelled, pumping a thick flood of cum into her bloody cunt, and his eyes rolled back as Mellow’s weak struggles made her pussy squeeze and rub around his length. He continued to grind against her as he came, balls clenching with each pump, losing himself in the sensations of her soft body and her shrill sobs and her hot pussy clenched around him.

She had gone limp by the time he came down from his high, and after some effort he managed to tug himself free and stumble back. She fell onto her side, crying into her hooves, and Gerrick allowed himself a moment to watch the pinkish mix of his cum and her blood drip down her ass in a thick curtain, joining the still-growing pool of blood beneath her.

He sighed in satisfaction as he padded around to her front end, frowning down at her, and considered killing her. Most of the time he enjoyed killing his mares as he came so he could feel their death convulsions, but he’d lost himself in the moment on this one and accidentally left her alive.

She just lay there, curled up into a whimpering, bloody puddle, and didn’t even look at him.

To be honest, he just wasn’t in the mood. His blood had gone down after blowing his load, and it didn’t seem worth the effort to peel her hooves back and tear her throat open. He wasn’t even particularly hungry at the moment.

He stepped over her, making for the mouth of the cave, and spread his wings, but stopped at the sound of her voice, just barely audible over the pops of the dying campfire.

“Please… let me go outside.”

He arched a brow. What would even be the point? Either way, it wasn’t worth his time.

“No.”

He spared her no further thought as he leapt into the air, pumping his wings to gain altitude. The whore matron would no doubt be raising trouble when her charge failed to return, and he would have to see to her soon.

And as long as he was snuffing two whores, he’d might as well finish off the third. Maybe he could even rent out Mirror to make some bits after; with every whore in town dead, she ought to make a killing.

IV: Master Gerrick Buys Out The Competition

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Gerrick prowled down Wayward Pines’s Main Street in the early dawn, eyeing the storefronts with a calculating gaze. It was a small town, and though the streets were empty and most of the population had yet to wake, many of the shopkeepers no doubt lived and worked out of the same buildings. And unlike in pony cities, they’d come looking if they heard a mare screaming.

He glanced at Mirror Image, walking by his side. “I’ll need you to use the quiet spell for this one.”

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

The brothel was still open, and master and servant entered in silence. Mirror turned to face the door, horn glowing, and the air seemed to buzz with a nervous energy before cutting off with a sharp pop.

The foyer was as he remembered it from when he’d picked up the doe yesterday. A stairway along one wall led up to where the lesser whores slept, while a door behind a small bar would take him to the matron’s suite. A trio of plush sofas around a circular table provided space for the whores to relax and socialize between jobs, but the room was currently empty. A few scattered candles on the table and bar glowed with a dim light.

It was a sleepy, cozy little place, though not for much longer. Gerrick’s tail flicked behind him as he looked between the stairs and the bar, considering which mare to take first.

After several seconds he started for the bar, walking around it and grabbing a bottle of cider from the shelving. The pegasus whore hadn’t seen him yet, and perhaps didn’t even know that the doe had been out on a job, so the matron was the logical choice. And besides that, it was true what she’d said about being the most exotic thing in the backwards little town; he could have a pegasus any day, but a bat pony was something special.

He beckoned to Mirror as he popped the cap off the bottle and took a long sip. “Stay and watch the front,” he said, setting the bottle aside with a disappointed frown. “If anyone asks, you’re covering for the matron.”

“Yes, sir. So if a customer comes in—”

“Then fuck them, yes,” Gerrick said. “But make sure they pay first.”

He turned for the matron’s door, testing the knob, and was pleasantly surprised to find it unlocked. These Equestrians really were incredibly naive, it seemed. He stepped through without a word and shut it quietly behind him.

He found himself in an expansive bedroom, each wall decorated with long mirrors framed in carved wood and a bed large enough for two ponies to splay out on in the center. Candles spread around the room provided a dim light and a sense of intimacy, burning with a scent he couldn’t quite recognize.

“Mellow? Are you back already?” the matron called from another doorway to the side. Gerrick stepped up and peered inside, and the matron let out a little squeak of alarm when she spotted him. “O-oh! Master Gerrick! You could’ve just left Mellow out in the foyer, really.”

Gerrick narrowed his eyes, looking the mare over. She was sitting behind a small desk with a few messy stacks of paper on either side, a pair of reading glasses resting on the bridge of her muzzle. “I was hoping to talk to you.”

She blinked, her confusion visible for only a moment before giving way to a smile. “Of course. I hope she was everything you were hoping for?” She stood and stepped around the desk, offering a suggestive wink and a shake of her hips. “Or perhaps you’d like to try a more refined flavor?”

Gerrick arched a brow. Was she coming on to him? No, he thought, she was just playing her part as the head whore, enticing and teasing to try and get more bits out of him. Her coat was a dusky blue, almost gray, and her mane a dark magenta that reminded him almost of dried blood. Her most striking feature, however, were her icy blue eyes, split down the middle by a slitted black pupil.

He smirked back, shamelessly drinking in the sight of her body. These whores made it too easy. “I think I would like that, yes.”

Her smile widened, showing the pointed tips of her little fangs, and she removed her glasses before sashaying towards him slowly, raising a hoof to caress his plumage. “There’s just the small issue of… payment.

“How much?” Gerrick asked, lowering his voice to match hers. Not that it mattered. He’d take the bits back off her corpse once he was finished.

“Fifty bits.” She bit her lip, looking up into his eyes. “But if you want to finish inside? Five hundred.”

He cocked his head. “Why so expensive?”

She beckoned him down, and he leaned lower, letting her whisper teasingly into his ear. “I don’t use birth control, and I’m a very fertile mare.”

His eyes widened. She was willing to sell not just her body, but even her womb? How many foals had she birthed already to so casually make such an offer?

He would’ve accepted, but he didn’t have that much money on him, and he lacked the patience to go back to the room Mirror had reserved at the Merry Girdler and fetch it. Still, he liked the idea. He’d be sure to impregnate her before she died.

“I’ll settle for the fifty,” he said, producing the coins from the satchel under his wing.

“Aww.” She pouted, but took the bits without hesitation. “Shame. A half-griffon child would be a first for me.”

Again, Gerrick found himself taken by surprise, but he didn’t protest as she led him towards the bed and pushed him gently onto it. He lay back and spread his legs, watching in silence as she slowly pressed her muzzle into his sheath and took in a deep breath.

She exhaled with a breathy sigh, her tongue flicking out for only a moment, before looking up and meeting his gaze. “How do you want me?” she asked teasingly, letting her lips brush over his balls as she spoke.

It was strange, having a mare so forward and willing. “What are my options?”

She grinned, her thoughtful hum sending pleasant vibrations through his body. “Do you like to take charge? Do you like to be rough?” She giggled, pulling one of his balls between her thick lips and suckling gently before letting it fall with a wet pop. “Or maybe you’d like me to be rough? I have plenty of toys… if you pay.”

Ah, now he understood. More sales tactics. Well if she wanted to sell herself to him, he would oblige. “How much for handcuffs?”

“On you? Free. But on me?” She used the little claws on the tips of her wings to tickle inside his thighs, holding his gaze even as his shaft rose to attention and blocked half her face. “Another thirty bits.”

He smiled, and she smiled back. She thought she had him. “Fine.” He pulled his satchel off, tossing it onto the floor. “There’s another hundred in there. You can have it all if you please me, whore.”

If she was offended by the moniker, she did a good job of hiding it. Instead she let out an intrigued coo, dragging the satchel closer with one wing and stealing a peek inside. When she looked up again she had an excited smile on her face. “Sure thing, sweetie. You wait here just a minute.”

She slid her tongue up the length of his shaft, depositing a long kiss on the tip as she stood and turned for a large chest set against the wall beside her. She held her tail high as she pulled it open, exposing her full ass and wide hips, and her marehood joined in with a slow wink, the bright pink of her clit making an enticing contrast with her dark pussy lips.

Curious to see if she’d object to him ignoring an order, Gerrick stood and stepped up behind her, letting his stiffening shaft slide up her ass and nestle into the soft hairs above her dock. She stiffened briefly before relaxing back into him with a long, exaggerated moan. She opened the chest and slowly bent down to look through it, caressing his cock with her soft plot, and her clit winked out and planted a wet kiss on his balls.

Good, Gerrick thought. She knows her place.

He grunted, grinding slowly against her and raising his foreclaws to knead at her flesh. Her coat was soft, and her ass plump and full, carrying the weight of many past births yet still firm enough to press back against him. He resisted the urge to sink his talons in to the knuckles and take her right there; as tempting as it was to feel her cunt convulse in pain around his shaft, he was still intrigued to see how far he could push her before she would fight.

She let out a soft coo and swayed against him, smothering his groin with the wet heat radiating from her sex, then pulled away abruptly, rounding on him with two sets of fuzzy pink cuffs held in her teeth.

He frowned at the sudden deprivation, and she winked before prancing back to the bed and dropping the cuffs on the sheets, her voice low and husky. “How would you like me, sir?”

“On your back,” he said. “A limb to each bedpost.”

“Ah, the classic.” The whore matron giggled before splaying herself out on the bed as he’d commanded. “Let’s not forget the safeword.”

Gerrick snorted as he walked around the bed, cuffing her hooves to the posts and ensuring she couldn’t move. “You choose.”

“Very well. Why not keep with tradition?” She made a show of pulling against the cuffs, arching her back and flapping her leathery wings. “Red, yellow, and green.”

Gerrick nodded. In truth, he had no idea what a safeword was, or what the significance of these choices were, but it was too late for any of that to matter. The whore had let her greed blind her, and with all four legs cuffed she was entirely at his mercy.

“Well, then, Master Gerrick,” the whore matron said, fluttering her eyelashes. “What will you do with me?”

“I’m going to rape you,” Gerrick stated bluntly, stopping at the foot of the bed to admire her form. “And then I’m going to kill you.”

“Ooh.” She licked her lips. “Prey play?”

Gerrick blinked. Was she really this stupid? The maid he’d hired from Equestria had been dumb, yes, but he’d been led to believe she was somewhat of an exception. He smirked down at the whore, once again reminded of just why he’d started this little trip through the pony nation. “Yes.”

“How exciting.” The whore’s smile lingered for a moment before being replaced with a poor imitation of fear. She pulled at her restraints, letting out a pitiful whimper. “Oh, please don’t eat me, master griffon! I’ll do whatever you say!”

Gerrick cocked his head. He enjoyed the sound and smell of a mare struck with terror, and this was nothing like that. Indeed, her feigned distress and the exaggerated quiver of her voice did more to turn him off than anything. He’d have to put a stop to that.

He climbed onto the bed, crawling over to her head and turning so his cock curved down across her face, the tapered tip resting just over her plush lips. “Open, whore.”

She giggled before complying, wrapping her lips around his cock and teasing at it with her tongue. With the one eye he could still see she held his gaze, her cheeks already flushing with excitement as she moaned around him.

The moan turned to a shocked gag as Gerrick hilted himself into her throat without warning. Her eyes shot wide open and her body went rigid beneath him, but he gave her no time to adjust, pulling back and slamming into her again before settling into a hard, slow rhythm. Her wings flapped in panic and her muffled voice rose in distress, but he ignored it, instead leaning over her to get more leverage and closing his eyes, enjoying the sensation of her throat squeezing tight around his cock. His balls slapped against her nose with each thrust, her strained attempts at drawing breath serving only to tickle pleasantly against them, and he let his weight settle down on her belly, relaxing atop her to better focus on fucking her throat.

He groaned as her muffled protests grew more insistent. Would she bite him, he wondered? It would be an interesting experiment, but he doubted she’d try it. The whore clearly thought he was like the pony customers she’d dealt with previously, and he wouldn’t even be surprised if her only reaction after the rough throatfucking would be to chide him for not warning her first.

Her wings beat against his sides, and he shuddered at a particularly strong, body-shaking wretch from the whore that seemed to vibrate along his entire length. He could feel her spit welling up and slathering across his balls, turning the dull smacks of the orbs across her face into a rhythmic, wet slapping. How long could she go before passing out? He resolved himself to answer the question, hilting hard inside her throat and beginning to grind against her muzzle, giving her no room to breathe. She whined beneath him, only making him harder, and he leaned down to lick at her bouncing teats, once again having to fight the urge to draw blood.

He blinked in surprise as an unexpected taste hit his tongue—milk. Had the whore recently given birth? It would explain the size of her teats, certainly. He raised his head, mesmerized by the way her flesh rippled as he shoved her throat out with his cock. Would they be full of milk when he tore them open? A good question for later, but for now he contented himself with merely raising a claw to give them a tight squeeze. The whore jerked against her restraints as he accidentally drew blood in his heat, the thick red joined by the creamy white of the milk that dribbled from her nipples.

His tail lashed high in the air as she screamed around his cock, yet still she didn’t try to bite down. He groaned, squeezing her breast harder, pushing her further, but her struggles were beginning to fade. He turned to watch her panicked expression as her legs went limp, and the sight of her slitted, icy blue eyes losing focus and then rolling up into her skull was so hot that he almost drowned her in his cum right there.

But he restrained himself. He gave three more heavy thrusts, the wet squelch of her throat clearly audible now that she’d fallen silent, then slowly stood. He watched the bulge of his cock slide up her neck before it slipped out into the open air, drooling a thick curtain of spit down to join the mascara tears soaked into her cheeks.

He let out a satisfied sigh, his cock throbbing with his pulse. When she woke up, then he would kill her.

“Night, are you okay? I heard some banging and—o-oh!” The door to the foyer swung open without warning. Gerrick turned sharply, spotting a thick-bodied pegasus mare standing in the doorway, a hoof raised to her lips as she took the scene in with wide eyes. She had a snowy white coat and a multi-hued pink mane with green highlights, done up in a complicated bun, and though she wasn’t fat, her barrel and neck were so wide that her wings looked undersized by comparison.

Gerrick saw Mirror leaning around the mare’s shoulder. “I told you, she was tending to Master Gerrick.”

The pegasus whore pursed her lips uncertainly, gaze fixated on her unconscious matron. “She usually tells us when she’s seeing a customer. And… is that blood?”

“Close the door, Mirror,” Gerrick said with a sigh. “And lock it.”

“Wh—huh? Wait!” The pegasus eeped as the door slammed shut behind her, glowing with the faint green of Mirror’s magic. She shivered, looking away with wide eyes. “Y-you’re that griffon that Mellow left with.”

“Correct.” Gerrick nodded. “Tell me your name, whore.”

“Cherry Blossom.” The pegasus’s wings hovered an inch off her sides, as if she was considering taking flight. “What are you d-doing with Ms. Night Sabre?”

Gerrick arched a brow, looking down at the bat pony still twitching unconscious between his legs. She was breathing, albeit faintly, and her eyes were rolled back and bloodshot, fluttering reflexively as spit dripped across her lashes. A small pool of creamy red blood had collected between her teats, trailing down across her pouting cunt.

He looked back to Cherry. “I’ve purchased her.”

Cherry pursed her lips. “She, uh, d-doesn’t let customers t-treat her like that.”

“Oh?” Gerrick stepped off the bed and stalked up to the mare, towering over her. “Are you going to do something about it, whore?”

“Um.” Cherry shied away, avoiding his gaze, but Gerrick only leaned closer. Finally she cried out, running around him and disappearing through the open door of the office.

Gerrick followed at a curious walk, and was rewarded with the sight of the pegasus jumping for a window set high behind the office desk, her undersized wings flapping vainly at her sides.

He blinked. A second later he broke out into an earnest chortle, sitting and bracing himself against the doorframe.

The pegasus stiffened, rounding on him with tears in her eyes. “S-shut up! These aren’t r-real wings!”

“Is that so?” Gerrick smirked, backing the mare into a corner, and snatched her muzzle between his talons. She whimpered as he forced her to look into his eyes. “Perhaps I should rip them off and see if they bleed.”

The whore’s eyes shot wide open, and a keening whine escaped her lips as she pissed herself, making his stiff cock twitch with the scent of her fear. He released his grip, letting her speak.

“P-please. I d-don’t wanna die,” she sobbed. “I’ll d-do anything!”

Gerrick smiled. “Let’s see about that, shall we?”

He grabbed her mane, dragging her along behind him and tossing her up against the bed. Her tail clamped down tight over her cunt, still dripping with piss.

“On the bed,” he ordered. “Straddle your master’s muzzle.”

“Yes, sir!” Cherry nodded frantically, rushing to comply. After a couple clumsy attempts—no doubt she was having trouble thinking through her fear—she had her thighs wrapped around Night Sabre’s head.

“Good girl.” Gerrick slowly undid the mature thestral’s cuffs before grabbing her around her wide hips, dragging her bodily towards him until her ass was balanced right on the edge of the bed. He kept eye contact with Cherry as he grabbed his cock and lined it up with the unconscious whore’s cunt, taking advantage of her earlier arousal and pressing inside her.

Night let out a dazed moan as her marehood was filled, her wings twitching. A second later her body went rigid, and her hooves flailed with sudden alarm, forelegs reaching up to grab at Cherry’s thick thighs.

“Hold her down,” Gerrick ordered, and he was pleased to see Cherry cringe before grabbing her matron’s forelegs in her own, overpowering the older mare with her weight. Gerrick let out a satisfied sigh, using his talons to open the matron’s flanks and hamstring her.

Night shrieked into Cherry’s cunt, her pussy tightening pleasantly around her rapist’s cock from the pain. “C-Cherry! Help me!”

Gerrick stared Cherry down, his breath coming heavier as he felt his victim begin to struggle once more. “Ride her face.”

Tears streamed down Cherry’s face as she obeyed, grinding her marehood onto Night’s muzzle and muffling the mare’s protests. Satisfied that she was sufficiently cowed, Gerrick wrapped one claw around Night’s soft hips, the other kneading against her teats and squeezing fresh blood and milk out to pool around her dock. He pulled her into him, putting more force into each subsequent thrust, until soon he was slamming against her with force, making the doughy flesh of her belly and teats rock under his grip. She hiccupped and sobbed with his thrusts, mumbling incoherently into Cherry’s pussy even as her honeypot milked at Gerrick’s shaft, goading him on.

She was as soft on the inside as she was outside, and Gerrick briefly wondered how a mare could still be so firm at her age, but his curiosity was quickly overwhelmed by the lust building in his chest. Each squeeze of her cunt, each tortured jerk of her body, each ripple of meat under his talons, every pitiful wail and desperate plea for mercy only served to stoke the fire in him, sending waves of pleasure racing up his spine. He growled, tail lashing behind him as the powerful clench of the matron’s pussy resisted him on the pull out, swallowing hungrily around him as he thrust back in and drove another whimper from the struggling whore. He could feel her lustful winks around him, her body begging for more in spite of the wishes of her mind, his balls tingling with every wet kiss of her swollen clit against them.

“Oh, f-fuck, yes.”

Gerrick blinked, taken aback by an unexpected feminine moan of pleasure. He tore his eyes from Night’s bouncing teats and saw Cherry biting her lip, her eyes screwed up as she rode her matron’s muzzle with gusto.

“F-fucking dyke bitch,” Cherry breathed, cheeks flush. Her mouth hung open as she gasped for breath, and Gerrick’s brow rose as he saw her cunt wink around Night’s muzzle. “I hope you d-drown in my cum! Bet you’d g-get off on it, too!”

These whores were just full of surprises. Had the pegasus been hiding some vendetta against her employer? Just how far would she go?

Gerrick snorted, straining to keep his rhythm as the pressure built in his balls. As much as this whore was crying and struggling, her cunt certainly knew what it wanted. It convulsed and shuddered around his length, coaxing him towards orgasm, begging for his seed.

“I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, catching Cherry’s unfocused gaze. “I’m gonna fill this cunt up, impregnate her with my seed, and then kill her.”

Night screamed into Cherry’s pussy, wings flapping frantically, but all she managed to do was lift her back a few inches off the bed. Gerrick moved both talons to her hips and climbed fully onto the bed, pulling her up into him and ramming his cock into her hard enough to make her cries shake with every thrust.

“Are you gonna stop me?” he asked, his beak close enough to smell the heated breaths from Cherry’s muzzle. “This is your last chance.”

Cherry shook her head, a shrill moan escaping her. “D-do it. Dyke d-deserves it.”

Gerrick groaned as the whore’s pussy finally pulled him past the point of no return. He lost his rhythm, the wet flesh of her pussy lips meeting him with wet slaps, pulling her hips even higher off the bed even as Cherry held her head down with her thighs. Night’s screams turned to a desperate, primal shriek as her body struggled to contend with the forces assailing it, until finally, with a loud, grinding, wet crunch, her spine gave way.

Gerrick’s legs shook as he pumped a thick surge of seed into the suddenly limp mare beneath him, his vision popping as he focused on the sound of her muffled, weakening whimpers. Even with her lower half separated from the brain her pussy winked and swallowed around him, following its last orders to milk the cock inside it for every drop of cum, and soon his spunk was bubbling out past the tight seal of her marehood, dripping down to join the milk and blood already sinking into the bedsheets.

Cherry cried out as well, biting her lip in the throes of her own orgasm, and in a flash of heat Gerrick lunged forward, burying the sharp edge of his beak into her throat. Her scream of ecstasy turned into a scream of terror and then a wet gurgle, and she toppled to the side, falling off Night’s face, hooves flying up to the mortal wound even as death spasms rocked her body.

“Stop! No! Celestia, please!” Without Cherry’s weight atop her, Gerrick could finally hear Night’s begging clearly. She grunted between breaths as he continued to pack his load into her, lifting her ass up higher and pressing her head against the bed. “I’m a mother! I have—agh!—seven foals! Nngh! Please!”

He barely heard her. With one last, all out thrust, he pushed her head down into the bed until it jerked to the side with a loud snap, and Night fell silent but for the quiet rattle of her last breath.

Gerrick panted heavily as he pulled his softening cock out of the corpse, fluffing his wings and stumbling back. Night was rolled up nearly double, her hind legs up on either side of her head and her cunt dripping bloody cum into her wide eyes. Cherry was still clinging to life, twitching and gurgling beside her.

He sighed, padding over to Cherry’s head, and slipped his cock into her muzzle. She gagged around him, and he pulled her hooves away from her throat wound so he could watch the bulge of his shaft under her skin. He hilted himself once, the very tip of his cock slipping out through the gash in her throat, before squeezing her neck tight around him and pulling out, sloughing the cum, blood, and milk off his length.

Stretching his neck to either side, Gerrick walked over and opened the door to the foyer. Mirror Image looked back expectantly, meeting his gaze.

“Take care of the bodies,” he said. “I want to try that bat whore’s teats for dinner tonight, as well. And go fetch our things from the Merry Girdler. We’ll room here for now.”

“Yes, sir.” Mirror stepped into the bedroom, taking in the bloody mess with an experienced eye. One of Cherry's legs twitched as she let out her final breath. “What if somepony asks about them?”

“They’re out of town, and you’re covering,” Gerrick said. “We should be safe as long as you do your job well, and perhaps you can make up some of our bits whoring yourself out in this backwater. With the competition dead, we can dictate the prices.”

“Yes, sir.” Mirror dipped her head before closing her eyes, and with the tinkling of magic and a brief flash of light, there were two of her.

One made for the bodies immediately, while the other waited at Gerrick’s side. He beckoned her upstairs, pausing to lock the front door. He was worn out after taking three mares in one night, and he needed his rest.

V: Master Gerrick Assists Local Law Enforcement

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Equestrians were strange creatures.

Where Mirror Image came from, it was normal for a pony to disappear without a trace. You lived your life as best you could and tried not to think about it, but there were always reminders that you lived or died at the whims of whichever griffon lived in the nearest keep or manor. If you were lucky, your friends or family would be taken formally, herded off to the lord’s home as part of the village’s livestock tax. In other cases they would just go out one day and never come home, nothing to mark their trail but some dried blood and maybe a stray limb, and after a time you’d give up on ever seeing them again.

The Equestrians were different. They were concerned when another pony didn’t show up where expected, almost as if it were a griffon that had disappeared. It made sense in retrospect, but Mirror had still been a little surprised when a Royal Guard walked into the brothel, all sternness and questions.

“Good morning, ma’am. I’m Corporal Skyline.” She’d introduced herself with a quick nod, casting a narrow-eyed glance towards the empty furniture in the foyer. “I’m here for your protection.”

She was a fit pegasus mare, with a tropical blue coat and a short, striped mane of pale pinks. Her armor was well-polished and she hefted her spear with practiced ease, weapon and wielder alike always standing at attention. She asked questions, mentioning that a case had been opened for the missing whores after one was found dead in a cave out of town, and Mirror gave the answers she’d practiced previously.

“Miss Sabre and Miss Blossom are fine to my knowledge,” she’d said. “They went on a vacation to Fillydelphia, and hired me to cover for them.”

As much as Mirror had been surprised to find a guardsmare at the door that morning, she’d been even more surprised when said guardsmare had accepted her story at face value.

And yet she had. The concept that Mirror may have been lying didn’t even seem to cross the Corporal’s mind. The interrogation lasted for only a few more questions before sliding into friendly smalltalk, and as Mirror learned more about the mare the lack of suspicion began to make sense. She was the only Royal Guard in the little village of Wandering Pines, more familiar with rescuing cats from trees or tracking down unruly children than dealing with abductions or murders. She’d already sent a missive for a full squad to come investigate, and in the meantime had taken it on herself to protect the pony she saw as most likely to be a next victim—Mirror Image.

Still, the timing was inconvenient. Master Gerrick and one of Mirror’s copies had yet to come back from disposing of last night’s kills in the wilderness, so she was left on her own and with no way to warn them. She couldn’t leave without raising suspicion, and despite Mirror’s attempts to get the guardsmare to take up a more active method of investigation—certainly more active than sitting in the whorehouse foalsitting a grown mare—Corporal Skyline would only smile, assure Mirror that this was the best place for her to be at the moment, and stubbornly refuse to leave.

Mirror was pacing in the backroom, trying to figure out some plan, when the sound of the front door opening caught her attention. She perked up and leaned an ear against the suite door in hopes of hearing her master’s voice.

“Oh, Hatter.” Skyline’s voice was muffled by the wood, but still clearly audible. “Hadn’t expected to see you here today.”

“Eyup, miduck.” The voice that answered her was male, but lacked the bass of a grown stallion. It spoke in a dialect Mirror didn’t recognize and was overflowing with cocky swagger. “Where’s Sabre at, then? Or yew coverin’ fer ‘er today?” A hoof pounded against the bartop in the foyer, making the door rattle against Mirror’s ear. “Ay, Sabre! Git out here ‘n lemme spot that thick plotta yers!”

Mirror frowned as she struggled to parse the thick accent, but it was clear she was being summoned. She stepped back and straightened her mane before pulling the door open.

A grey unicorn stallion was leaned over the bar, his baggy eyes shaded by the brim of a red-banded bowler hat and his body wrapped in a collared red trench coat. His eyes widened as he saw her, but he recovered quickly, greeting her with a sleazy grin while his gaze roamed freely over her body.

“Wot’s this, then? Sabre git a new bird since my last visit?” He winked in a way he clearly thought was very charming, straightening his collar with a hoof. “Usually Cherry’s th’ one t’ polish my knob, but I reckon I’ll try new meat today. Innit Sabre around?”

Mirror smiled politely, noting that he’d sharpened his teeth to fine points. Annoying as this stallion was, he was still a customer, and a good maid didn’t let personal feelings get in the way of her master’s orders. “Sabre’s not available at the moment, sir. I’m the only mare here today.”

“Skyline’s sittin’ right over there, innit?” He grinned, glancing back at the guardsmare and licking his lips. “How ‘bout both of ya’s come upstairs and we’ll make it a right party?”

Skyline frowned. “You know I don’t work here, Hatter.”

“Fella’s gotta try, ay?” Hatter tipped his hat before turning back to Mirror. “Right, then. Usual rate fer a shag?”

“The price is raised.” Mirror’s smile grew a little wider as his brow furrowed. “A hundred bits.”

“Hundred bits?! Yew dirty sod! It’s s’posed to be just fifty! Where’s Sabre at, then?” He pounded his hoof against the bar, raising his voice towards the matron’s suite. “Ay, Sabre! This bird’s tryna cheat me out here, she is!”

“Miss Sabre’s not here,” Mirror said evenly. “She and Miss Blossom are on vacation. You can always wait until they come back.”

Hatter growled, but reached for his pockets nonetheless. “Straight burglary, innit, takin’ advantage of a nice fella like me. Here it is, then!” He hefted a coinpurse into view, emptying nearly all its contents onto the bar before shoving it back into his coat. “Go on ‘n count ‘em. I’ll be waitin’ up in Cherry’s room, ‘n no lollygaggin’!”

With one last hungry look to both mares in the room, Hatter turned sharply and stomped up the stairs, his trench coat flapping in his wake, muttering all the while.

Corporal Skyline sighed, shaking her head slowly. “I’m sorry about him. He’s already scared off all the mares in town, so Night Sabre and her girls are kind of his lifeline.”

“It’s fine,” Mirror said, quickly counting the bits before sliding them into her bag behind the bar. “I’d better go to see him, though. Let me show you out.”

The guardsmare smiled, but didn’t move. “That’s fine, miss. I’ll wait down here and make sure nopony tries to sneak in while you’re distracted. Oh, and—” she glanced up towards the stairs, pursing her lips “—be careful with him. He carries a razor blade everywhere he goes.”

Mirror’s ears perked up. Maybe this stallion would be a little interesting, after all. “Thank you.”

It was just a short walk upstairs, and Mirror put on a polite but teasing smile as she slipped into the room that the now-deceased Cherry Blossom had worked out of. It wasn’t as lavish as Night Sabre’s suite nor as personalized as Earthly Mellow’s; there was just a plain bed, a window with flower-pattern drapes, and a mirror and dresser in one corner for touching up between customers.

Hatter was nowhere to be seen, however. Mirror stepped further inside, her smile faltering. Had he gone to the wrong room?

She gasped as a hoof slid around her from behind, pulling her chin up and exposing her throat. The tinkle of magic reached her ears, and an instant later a gleaming razor blade floated up in front of her, glowing a soft green.

“Was wonderin’ when yew’d get here,” Hatter growled into her ear. His coat was soft, more like a mare’s than a stallion’s. “Ready t’ have some fun, then?”

He pressed his lips hard against her neck, her legs going weak from the sudden, wet pressure of his tongue, and she stiffened at the prickling of sharp teeth on her skin. He held her firm, keeping her from falling onto the razor blade held to her throat.

Mirror's eyes fluttered, her thoughts hazy past the shock of the sudden kiss. Was he going to kill her?

Finally he pulled the blade away and let her go, and she fell to the floor with a breathy moan, clutching at her neck.

"Hope ya don't mind if I play with my fav'rit toy." Hatter walked around to her front, smirking down at her past his razor blade and showing the sharpened points of his teeth. "Don't yew worry, I won't leave no lastin' marks. Sabre'll knock me head in if I damage 'er girls."

Mirror looked up at him with parted lips, still trying to catch her breath, and he snickered as he undid the belt of his trench coat.

She flinched as something warm and heavy slapped against her face. Mirror blinked, muzzle scrunching as she focused on the turgid cock resting between her eyes, a dab of musky arousal already leaking out to dampen her fur. She breathed deeply, drawing in the musky scent of his balls draped over her nose, and her body responded automatically, her tongue extending to curl around one of the smooth black orbs and pull it between her lips.

Hatter chuckled above her. “Well trained, ain’t ya?”

Mirror could only answer a quiet moan in response. She closed her eyes, relishing the salty, masculine taste of his balls against her tongue before craning her head back, tasting all along his length, feeling the pulsing veins under his velvety skin under her lips. She didn’t stop until she reached the tip, swirling her tongue around the thick ridge of his cockhead, and opened her mouth to accept him inside her.

She blinked when he pulled back, leaving her lying on the floor with her mouth gaping and pussy swelling and nothing to suck on.

“Lemme get cozy first, ay?” Hatter smirked, letting his trench coat fall to the floor before turning and climbing onto the bed. He reclined onto his back with a groan, tipping his hat back and spreading his legs before beckoning to her with a twirl of his floating razor blade. “C’mere, mare.”

Mirror stood slowly, finally able to think clearly again. Everything had happened so fast—the blade to her throat, the kiss to the sensitive spot on her neck that made her eyes flutter and her legs go weak, the scent and sight of his cock in her face—she could barely remember it all. One second she’d been stepping into the room, resigned to boring sex with this strange Equestrian, and the next thing she knew she was on the ground, mouth open and tongue out, ready to be used by the male that had so easily conquered her.

She took a deep breath as her pussy winked, leaving a drop of hot arousal to trickle down her thighs. “Yes, sir.”

He grinned as she climbed onto the bed and crawled up between his legs, prostrating herself beneath his towering stallionhood. She went to kiss at the base of his shaft, gasping as he wrapped a hoof around her horn and pulled her head up sharply, exposing her neck.

“Yew got such a pretty lil’ neck,” he said, tracing a path under her chin with the sharp edge of the razor. “I’d love t’ see it bleed.”

Mirror gulped, her heart pounding against her chest. This stallion was like Gerrick, she realized; she was just a toy to him, something to fuck and tease, and most likely the only thing keeping him from slitting her throat right now was the knowledge that he’d spend the rest of his days in a dungeon for murder. She held his gaze, not shying back from the blade, as her tail twitched higher. “If you pay, you can.”

Hatter’s brow furrowed. “Wot?”

“Another two hundred bits.” She leaned forwards, wincing as the blade bit into her skin and drew a trickle of blood, and planted a kiss against his shaft. “And you can do anything you want with me.”

He frowned, but she could feel his interest in the way his cock pulsed under her lips. “Yer mad. What’d’yew get outta it?”

“What I get out of it doesn’t matter.” Mirror began to kiss her way up his shaft, working towards his tip. Would he take the offer? She moaned around him as her marehood winked against the bedsheets, begging to be filled. “I do what my Master tells me.”

He didn’t say anything, only narrowing his eyes in confusion. She held his gaze as she wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock and pressed her tongue up against it, tasting more of his salty pre.

She could feel his legs tense beneath her as she gently suckled at his tip, watching the way his eyes twitched and his lips parted. She smiled around his cock, snaking a hoof down between her legs and wetting it against her marehood before bringing it up to his balls, rubbing her arousal onto the heavy orbs.

“A-agh.” He moaned, his magic wavering around the razor. “F-fine! Crazy whore er not, yew gots a deal. Money’s in my coat.”

Mirror hummed, drawing another halting groan from him, and grabbed his coat from off the floor. She gave it an experimental shake, ear flicking at the jingling of bits inside, and fished the proper amount out of the pockets. She floated the coins in front of her, never pulling her lips off his length, and counted them in silence.

“It’s enough, ay?” Hatter twitched under her, clenching his jaw.

She looked back to him, neatly floating the bits off onto the dresser, and—drawing in a deep breath through her nostrils—swallowed his tip into her throat.

Hatter groaned, his hoof wrapping around the back of her head and pulling her down, feeding her his cock one inch at a time. She continued to hold his gaze as she drew him in deeper, her throat flexing around him with lewd slurps, bulging out against the razor blade.

The blade floated to her cheek, and Mirror flinched as the very tip sank into her skin. His eyes lit up as he drew it across her face, leaving a trail of drooping red blood in its wake, and he thrust his hips up into her face, causing her to gag as he hilted inside her. He gave her no time to rest, barely pulling out before slamming back in twice as hard.

Mirror gagged, bracing herself against his legs as he bucked her face in earnest. He gave her very little time to breath between thrusts, and just as she thought she had adjusted to his rhythm he brought the razor around once more, digging it into her face just under the first cut, harder and deeper.

She cried out at the unexpected pain, losing her concentration and wasting precious breath. The razor came again and again, opening her skin in a dozen different places, leaving her face a bloody, patchwork mess, blood flying free to splatter against his coat each time he slammed her head down against his balls. She panicked, trying to push herself off, but he held her tight, slicing open her forelegs so that any attempt to escape only rewarded her with more pain.

She surrendered herself to his bloodthirst, going limp in his grip, twitching and whining around his swelling cock as darkness crept in at the edge of her vision. Her body faded away, every sensation escaping her but for a foggy weightlessness, Hatter’s manic grin, and the thick rod of meat jammed into her muzzle, depositing more and more creamy pre to trickle down her convulsing throat. She lost track of time as her eyes fluttered closed before suddenly shooting wide open again, and she’d spend a couple seconds retching and struggling before drifting off once more.

Mirror didn’t know how long she spent like that. It stretched on seemingly forever, and when she finally managed to suck in a heaving, choking gasp of air, she was on her back, staring up at the ceiling.

She blinked, licking her dry lips and tasting the iron of her own blood mixed with the salty tang of Hatter’s excitement. A quiet moan escaped her as her pussy winked, a deluge of marecum dripping into her tail.

“Havin’ fun, ay?” Hatter appeared above her, his sharp teeth exposed in a crimson grin. Mirror’s leg twitched as she felt his cock slap down against her cunt. “Me too.”

He pressed inside her all at once, forcing a stuttering moan from her lips. She was still dazed from the throatfuck and weak from blood loss, and she could do little more than lie there as he fucked her, weak gasps of pleasure escaping her as the waves of ecstasy from her pussy clashed with the pain radiating from her wounds. She didn’t have the energy for much, but she managed a whimper when she felt the razor against her sensitive teats. A second later it dug into the soft flesh, scoring a deep gash right across her nipple.

Mirror’s whole body clenched as she opened her mouth in a silent scream. Hatter giggled above her, already lining the razor up for another cut. “Ah, thas a good clench. Let’s get another, ay?”

He pulled out until only his very tip was left inside her before beginning the next cut. Mirror winced, her marehood tightening reflexively in response, and he grabbed her hips in both hooves before forcing himself deep inside her with a satisfied groan.

He did it again and again, Mirror helpless to do anything but let out weak moans as he sliced her open inches at a time, opening a fresh wound before every pump of his hips to make her clench around him. She lost track before long—she was only vaguely aware as he left her bloodied teats and moved up to her belly, cutting deep gouges across her barrel. By the time he reached her neck, her limbs had gone cold and numb. She stared up at him with heavy, lidded eyes as he pressed the razor to her throat, her body rocking with each wild thrust of his cock into her cunt.

“It’s been fun,” he hissed, teeth clenched. She winced as his cock flared deep inside her, the only thing she could feel apart from the hundred cuts he’d opened across her body. “But I reckon ye’re all spent.”

His balls tightened as he hilted himself, grinding against her marehood with a strained groan, and the warm seed he pumped into her cunt felt like fire compared to her cold body. Then the razor dug into her throat, and the last of her blood bubbled out in a weak gurgle, and she faded away, his cum dripping down onto her tail the last thing she ever felt.


“Sir?”

Gerrick looked to his side, where Mirror was walking next to him. “Yes?”

“The original’s dead,” she said. “I’ve just inherited her magic.”

“Oh?” He paused, scanning the street. They’d just come back into town around afternoon, and a few pedestrians were walking past with curious looks. How far had word spread of the missing whores? It was unlikely any of these Equestrians would have the stomach to kill Mirror for sport, so perhaps she’d been accused of murder and executed? No, that didn’t seem right; Equestrians didn’t believe in capital punishment.

Whatever the case, something had happened at the brothel during his absence. “Stay out of sight for now. I’ll go investigate.”

“Yes, sir.”

It took less than a minute for him to reach the brothel, and nothing looked out of place from outside. Confident he could handle anything that might await inside, he pushed the door open and strode through like he owned the place—which, as far as he was concerned, he did.

A pegasus guardsmare was waiting in the foyer, flipping through a magazine splayed out on the bar. She looked up, greeting him with a smile.

“Good afternoon, sir. Miss Mirror is busy with a customer at the moment, but I’m sure she’d be willing to see you once she’s done.”

Gerrick arched a brow. Truthfully, the concept of a pony soldier was somewhat comical to him. They were so small and soft, and the extra naivete he’d witnessed from Equestrians made it even more laughable. The mare was clearly trained—she had a spear nestled in the crook of one leg that she moved with confident ease—and yet when he looked at her he didn’t see a soldier. He saw a toy.

He didn’t return her smile. “What are you doing here?”

She blinked, closing the magazine and straightening up. “There have been some disappearances. I’ve appointed myself as Miss Mirror’s bodyguard, to ensure nothing happens to her until a team from Canterlot can arrive to investigate.”

“Appointed yourself?” Gerrick stalked up to the bar, towering over her. “Who’s your superior?”

She narrowed her eyes, craning her neck to meet his gaze without flinching. “I’m the only Guard garrisoned in this village. I report directly to Canterlot.”

“I see.” Gerrick nodded, looking away. He had thought he’d have more time before the officials got involved. Still, it was fortunate that this mare was the only one so far. He could get her out of the picture quickly, then leave before her reinforcements showed up. “I’m going to talk to Mirror.”

“Ah, sir?” The guardsmare ran around the bar, stepping in front of him before he could start up the stairs. “She’s with a customer. She’ll be down shortly.”

Gerrick’s tail flicked behind him, and for a moment he entertained the thought of killing her right then. But he didn’t know what had happened to Mirror yet, and he didn’t want to risk someone out in the street spotting such an act. “What’s your name?”

“Corporal Skyline.” The guardsmare clicked her hooves in a quick salute. “And I can’t let you up these stairs.”

Gerrick clacked his beak in irritation. There was a sudden thud from upstairs, and Skyline’s ears perked up as she turned towards it curiously.

Gerrick shoved past her while she was distracted, knocking her to the side.

“Hey!” Skyline called. He could hear her hooves against the wood as she gave chase, but he was already at the door the thud had come from. “Stop!”

He ignored her, pushing the door open, and was immediately hit by the enticing scent of blood.

Mirror Image was sprawled out on the floor, her head limp and her eyes half-lidded as if she was falling asleep. A skinny, grey-coated unicorn stallion in a bowler hat stood behind her, holding her ass up with two hooves, frozen with his cock hilted deep in her cunt and a razor blade floating beside him. That was about what Gerrick had expected to see.

What he hadn’t expected was the countless red gashes criss-crossing her body. Her face was covered in a checkerboard of bloodless cuts, and the rest of her body was no better. It looked like a maniac had used her coat as a canvas, carving geometric patterns and simple shapes into every available space until she was more wounded than whole, the flesh under her fur pale and clammy and her blood splattered across every surface. He saw it pooled on the bed and the floor and staining the ceiling, and Gerrick was reminded of some of the butcher shops he’d been to in his homeland, where mares could be found strung up from hooks and bled with similar thoroughness.

“Hatter!” The guardsmare gasped from out in the hall, squeezing past Gerrick with mouth agape. She leveled her spear on him without hesitation, wings flaring. “What did you do?!”

“Uhh.” The stallion looked from Gerrick, to Skyline, to Mirror’s corpse, still speared on his cock. He stepped back with a nervous giggle, the razor blade floating out of sight behind him. “So, I know this looks bad…”

Mirror’s corpse fell over with a quiet wheeze. A trickle of cum dripped out of her, swirling into the blood.

“You’ve gone mad!” Skyline stepped forwards, keeping her spear aimed square at his heart. “Well, madder than normal! You’re under arrest!”

“Whoa, hey!” Hatter raised his hooves to ward off her accusation, though the effect was somewhat lessened by his still-stiff erection. “I paid ‘er, right? She said I could do it!”

“Like I’ll believe that!” Skyline scoffed. “On the ground! Don’t make me do this the hard way!”

“Naw, Skyline, c’mon.” Hatter glanced helplessly towards Gerrick, then back to her. “I swear, it’s true!”

Gerrick snorted, watching with idle curiosity as the two Equestrians argued. He didn’t think it was possible for a pony to do anything like this, but then it seemed Equestrians always surprised him. His gaze wandered down to Skyline’s rear, catching a glimpse of her marehood tucked away under her tail.

Admittedly, he hadn’t fucked anything all day, and the sight and smell of Mirror’s desiccated corpse was getting him worked up.

He reached out, grabbing Skyline’s spear and wrenching it from her grip. She blinked, looking down at the empty space where her spear had been before turning on him.

“What are you doing?” she demanded. “Give that back!”

He didn’t bother with an answer. Instead he grabbed the spear in both talons and twisted, breaking it cleanly in two.

Skyline froze. Her pretty turquoise eyes widened in shock.

“Hatter, was it?” Gerrick kept his gaze locked to hers as he spoke. “Looks like this cunt’s caught you.”

“W-what?” Skyline looked between him and Hatter, backing away slowly. “What are you doing?”

Gerrick bent his knees, tail lashing behind him. A second passed before Skyline finally realized what was happening, and she turned to make for the window with a panicked cry just as he pounced, landing on her back and bearing her to the ground.

“Get off!” She bucked wildly beneath him, wings pounding at the floor, but he had leverage and weight on his side, and a short moment later he had all her limbs pinned beneath him. “Oh, Celestia, help me!”

He growled, grabbing her muzzle in his talons and holding it shut. She continued to struggle in vain, her muffled screams making his cock twitch in anticipation.

“You.” Hatter jumped as Gerrick looked to him, beckoning with a wing. “Help me get her armor off, and I’ll help you kill her once I’m done.”

Skyline’s screams rose an octave, but Gerrick paid her little mind. After a few seconds of hesitation Hatter came closer, a tentative grin on his face, and her armor began to glow with the green of his magic as he peeled it off piece by piece.

“Heh, ‘n here I thought I was done fer.” He licked his lips as more and more of Skyline’s pale blue coat was revealed, and by the time he had her completely stripped, his shaft had returned to full mast, pulsing with lust. “Yew don’t mind if I, er, play with ‘er front end, ay?”

“I don’t care.” Gerrick hauled the mare bodily off the floor, throwing her onto the bloodsoaked bed and pressing her muzzle into the sheets with one talon. With the other he lifted her tail to reveal his prize—the dark, puffy blue flesh of her pussy lips, so tight and firm that he couldn’t catch even a glimpse of the pink tunnel no doubt waiting within. He hummed, lining his cock up with her entrance.

Skyline shrieked into the bed, kicking and flapping wildly, but he was far stronger than her. Hatter giggled, his razor blade teasing at the base of her wings, and she went still with a shrill whimper, her marehood parting to release a thin stream of piss.

Gerrick moved quickly, using her fear as lube. She shuddered as he slipped inside her, grunting at the resistance as she clamped down instinctively, but with each motion of his hips he worked the tapered tip of his cock deeper. She was quite dry, making progress slow, so he curled his tail up between her legs, teasing at her sex with the fuzzy tuft at the end.

“Yew tink she’ll bite if I stick me knob in ‘er gob?” Hatter asked, now teasing at her spine with his razor.

Gerrick didn’t even look up. “Maybe.” He let go of her head to deliver a sharp smack to her ass, forcing a wailing sob out of her. “Relax!”

“Best listen t’ ‘im, Skyline.” Hatter pulled her head up, leaning down to meet her tearful eyes. “Now open up ‘n play nice, and we might let ya walk outta here, ay?”

“Please!” She cried, going limp against the bed. “I’ll do anything!”

“Good girl. Here ya go, now.”

Hatter brought his cock to her lips, and after a moment’s hesitation Skyline opened her mouth. He didn’t waste any time shoving himself inside her, making her eyes bulge as she gagged around his length.

The distraction worked well for Gerrick, and he let out a content sigh as he finally hilted inside the mare. She was still mostly dry, so he moved slowly, watching the way the pink inner lips of her pussy clung to him as he pulled out, as if begging him to stay inside. He waited patiently, letting the muffled sound of her retching entertain him, and before long her body began to betray her, her cunt swelling and slicking as it surrendered to the dominant male inside it.

Gerrick quickened his pace, pulling up on her tail to make her squeal and tighten as he began to rut her in earnest, relishing her weak struggles. It was obvious that she was trying to be as cooperative as she could, and the knowledge that he’d so thoroughly conquered this mare drove him to fuck her harder, to show her just how helpless she was to his whims.

She was as wet as any mare now, the slap of their bodies joining her muffled gags and sobs and the creaking of the bed. Her pussy winked earnestly, massaging his length and sending waves of pleasure up his spine, coaxing him towards climax even as she screamed her despair around Hatter’s cock. He explored her body with his talons, feeling the tight muscle under her smooth coat. It was the body of a mare who’d spent years dedicating herself to the defense of her fellow pony, and yet he’d defeated her in mere seconds, leaving her a sniveling wreck to rape at his leisure.

And she was just as tight inside as outside. Gerrick groaned, kneading her flanks with his talons hard enough to draw blood, his jaw clenching as her cunt clamped down all along his length and her clit winked out to plant a wet kiss on his balls. She let out a loud, shuddering moan as a spurt of marecum splattered against his thighs, and Gerrick grinned as he realized that he’d forced her to orgasm with the ferocity of her rape.

“Agh!” Hatter yelped, his cock flying free as he fell onto his ass. “She bit me!”

“I’m sorry!” Skyline cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. She sniffled, her voice shaking with each rough thrust into her pussy. “I’m t-trying, I j-just c-can’t! P-please!”

Gerrick growled, wrapping a talon around her neck and pulling her head up off the bed. She whimpered as he lifted her up, her forelegs flapping wildly in the air as her wings beat against his chest, her back arching as he pulled her head back into his shoulder.

“P-please!” She could barely choke out more pleas past his grip on her throat. “H-hurts!”

Gerrick scarcely heard her. He was focused on the feel of her cunt rippling around his shaft and the warm embrace of her ass pressed tight to his groin. He hilted against her, going from long thrusts to slow, powerful grinding, straining to bury himself as deep inside her as he could.

She gagged, clawing vainly at his talons as they began to sink into her throat. Hot blood dripped down past her shoulders, the smell stoking Gerrick’s lust. He pulled her head back so he could stare down into her eyes, seeing her terror and humiliation as she silently begged for mercy.

It was too much for him. Skyline’s sobs devolved into a wet gurgle as he sunk his talons into her throat down to the knuckle, not stopping until he hit bone. Her eyes rolled up and her body began to shudder violently, and in a single motion Gerrick snapped her neck, tearing her head from her shoulders in a spray of blood.

He threw the head carelessly over his shoulder, continuing to fuck her corpse as he let her fall back to the bed. He snorted, eyes screwing up, struggling to keep up his pace as her pussy clenched tighter than ever before, every nerve in her body firing with no mind to direct them in a desperate attempt at survival. She was still warm and soft inside even as a deluge of blood flooded from the stump of her neck, and he had every intent of using her until he was satisfied.

Gerrick groaned as his balls tightened beneath him and he slammed into her spasming cunt one last time, pumping a surge of cum into her lifeless corpse. He leaned over her as he came, locking his talons around her hips and pulling her back into him with every muscle, grinding her sopping wet pussy against his groin. Even without her head, her marehood knew its place—it swallowed his load eagerly, coaxing more cum from him with every beat of his heart, until finally he staggered back, his cock sliding free with a lewd slurp and spraying one last load of cum over her shivering ass.

Skyline’s headless corpse was sprawled out on the bed with her ass high in the air, her marehood still winking in a final display of arousal. Her leg twitched, and she fell limply onto her side, bounced once, and settled onto the bed, a curtain of thick white seed drooling down her thigh.

“W-wow.”

Gerrick blinked, suddenly remembering that Hatter was still there. The stallion hunched over Skyline’s front end as he fucked the stump of her neck, rolling her onto her back so he could lick and suck on her teats. His eyes fluttered as he hilted inside her, her neck bulging as he packed his own cum deep into her throat.

Skyline’s throat let out a lewd slurp as Hatter pulled out, leaving her to drip cum from both ends. The stallion sighed, looking up with a dopey smile.

“B-best three hundred bits I ever spent.”

Gerrick ignored him, looking around and spotting Skyline’s head where it had rolled to a stop between Mirror’s legs. He bent down and picked it up, looking into her eyes and savoring the horrified expression frozen on her face.

“So, uh…” Hatter cleared his throat. “N-now what?”

Gerrick held up a talon. He brought Skyline’s head down to his cock, pulling her lips open and sliding inside before squeezing her muzzle tight around him. He sighed as he worked her head over his length, cleaning himself of excess cum. Satisfied, he pulled himself free and deposited her head on her corpse, right above her drooling pussy.

Finally he looked to Hatter. “You stay here.”

Hatter blinked. “H-huh? But—”

“It’s the middle of the day,” Gerrick said. He walked over to the dresser, scooping up the pile of bits left there and slipping them into the bag under his wing. “And you just murdered a Royal Guard. It’d be best if you waited until nightfall to leave.”

“W-wait, that ain’t right.” Hatter frowned. “I ain’t th’ one dat killed ‘er.”

Gerrick shrugged. “If you want to take a chance, be my guest, but I’d wait if I was you.”

“What about yew?” Hatter asked, brow furrowing. “Ya gonna stay here wit me?”

Gerrick shook his head. “I’ve got the key. I’ll step out and lock up for the day, and then you can leave once it’s safe.”

“Oh.” Hatter pursed his lips. He looked between each of the dead mares, idly rubbing at Skyline’s body. “Uh, o-okay.”

“Good.” With a quick nod, Gerrick made for the door. He walked down the stairs and stepped out into the street without looking back, glancing around with detached curiosity.

“Sir?” Mirror Image appeared at his side almost instantly. She looked up at him expectantly, awaiting instructions.

“I found out what happened,” Gerrick said, beckoning as he began to walk up the street. “A customer came in and paid to snuff you. There was a guardsmare there when I showed up and she walked in on him with your body, so I fucked her.”

Mirror frowned. “What about the bodies?”

“The customer’s still inside,” Gerrick explained. “He’s as much an idiot as all the other Equestrians, but he can be useful for us. No doubt one of the other villagers will stumble on him playing with the bodies, and he’ll be blamed for killing the whores as well as the guardsmare. He should be dead by nightfall.”

“I see,” Mirror said. “Should I pack our things, then?”

Gerrick nodded. “See to it. We’ll get an early start on the road.”

“Yes, sir.”

VI: Mirror Image Gets Her Mane Wet

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Gerrick considered himself a civilized individual.

Of course, any Equestrian would disagree. He'd spoken to ponies that had warned him of a dangerous predator lurking in the countryside and shared rumors of mangled bodies found rotting in pieces at the roadside. The idea that anything besides a monster could have left such corpses behind didn't seem to occur to them, which Gerrick found somewhat amusing. They actually thought they were better than him.

But he wasn’t some simple barbarian. He was raised to enjoy the perks of civilized life as a griffon noble—regular baths, a steady stream of docile mares, and a competent maid service to prepare his meals and keep his home clean. Thanks to Mirror Image’s unique talents, he’d been able to keep the latter two during his travels. Baths, on the other hand, were a little harder to come by.

It wasn't that he couldn't find them. Equestrians had a strange obsession with cleanliness; every little hamlet, it seemed, had its own dedicated spa or bathhouse. The trouble was that when Gerrick needed a bath most was when he was covered in blood, and he doubted even an idiot Equestrian would let him pass their door when his feathers were stained red. Mirror could deal with the worst of the mess with some vigorous scrubbing and a bit of magic, reducing Equestrian reactions from "scream and run" to merely "nervous smile," but at a certain point a proper bath was called for.

They hadn't packed a tub, but there were plenty of little streams and pools in the Equestrian countryside. Gerrick reclined along the edge of one now, the cool water streaming over him from the chest down while Mirror cradled his head in her lap.

He took a deep breath, eyes lidded as she worked her hooves into his fur, leaning forwards occasionally to dip them back into the water. She hummed quietly as she bathed him, a soothing tune that Gerrick had heard many times from the peasants on his land.

The water rippled beside him, and Gerrick cracked an eye open to spot a second Mirror stepping into the stream. She waded out in front of him, and without a word he spread his legs wider.

She offered up a small smile before sliding closer, brushing her hooves over the sensitive hairs low on his belly. He closed his eyes again before leaning back into the Mirror behind him, relaxing into the pleasant sensation of his maid’s body against his, working the accumulated sweat and sores out of his muscles. One set of hooves massaged his chest in slow, wide circles while the second moved lower, teasing around his groin, causing his hind legs to twitch and tense in anticipation.

Mirror didn’t keep him waiting long. A deep intake of breath and a splashing of water was followed a second later by soft lips on his submerged sheath. The lips kissed gently around him, a warm tongue pressing against him before sliding down to wrap around his balls, and Gerrick let out a quiet groan as Mirror rubbed her muzzle across the sensitive orbs, the heat of her tongue contrasting with the cool stream in a way that sent a shiver of delight up his spine.

Soon his cock was sliding out into the chill water, but Mirror didn’t leave him exposed for long. She took his tip into her mouth, suckling gently, flicking her tongue along the ridges of his head and coaxing it deeper inside her. Then, just as he was expecting her to begin bobbing her head in earnest, she drew back.

Gerrick opened his eyes, beak curving down into a frown. Mirror’s head emerged from the water in front of him, mouth hanging open as she sucked in a deep breath, and their gazes met. For a moment they regarded each other in silence, Mirror cupping his hardening shaft in her hoof under the water.

Gerrick shifted, sliding slightly higher out of the water as he brought a talon around to wrap tight in Mirror’s mane. She shuddered atop him, slowly rubbing herself against his knee.

He pushed her head under the water in a sudden burst of speed, shoving her back down onto his shaft. The Mirror behind him tensed, but continued to bathe his upper body as he roughly jerked himself off with her copy’s head under the water. He clacked his beak and thrust up with his hips, seeking the tight embrace of her throat, and he felt her gag as she went rigid against him, wrapping her legs tight around the bulk of his waist, but she knew better than to try and fight him.

“There’s a good girl,” he muttered, moving his grip from her mane up to her horn. Her throat squeezed tight around his tip, wrapping him in a hot wetness, the pleasure from each thrust accentuated by the chill water that caressed his balls. He felt the vibrations of her moaning around his girth and the tickle of bubbles as they slipped past her lips and floated up to the surface, forming thin, frothy waves that were quickly disturbed by the violence of the facefucking.

The Mirror behind him leaned down, her motions shifting from steady cleaning to a more sensual massaging. She nosed into the crook of his neck, kissed him with a quiet cooing and pressing her pussy to his back. The wet, swollen lips of her marehood winked against him, planting warm kisses on his golden plumage.

The Mirror wrapped around his cock shivered, her tight grip around him going from bracing to fearful, but he didn’t stop. She tried to push off, but even with one talon he was able to overpower her, and his hold on her horn gave him excellent leverage over her head. He pulled her in closer, forcing more of his cock back into her throat as her gags developed into powerful, rhythmic retches, her throat clamping tight around his shaft for several seconds at a time as it tried to push him out. Each retch only made him groan his pleasure and grind into her even harder as he lost himself in his lust, thinking only of the growing pressure at the base of his shaft.

He could feel her hind legs scrabbling for purchase in the soft riverbed around his, but he lifted his own leg, driving his knee into her cunt as he lifted her up so she had nothing solid to push off. Her shivers strengthened, turning to a powerful full-body shuddering as her protests grew weaker, but her throat continued to squeeze and massage around him with the same desperate energy, enveloping him in an embrace so tight he had to clench his jaw and jerk her about with both claws as he snorted in exertion.

He could feel every inch of her gullet around him, the entrance to her throat almost painfully tight. He felt her fear in the pounding of her heart against his thigh, mirrored by the frantic pulsing of her cunt on his knee, driving him to fuck her face with the same quickening beat. Warmth spread over his leg as she pissed herself in terror, and he threw his head back with a strained groan, trembling as the Mirror behind him began to moan hot breaths into his ear and grind her pussy on his shoulder.

Finally the Mirror beneath him went still, her limbs swaying limply in the water around him. He frowned as the grip on his cock went from a pleasurable vice to a slight squeeze, her struggles replaced with increasingly feeble, irregular shudders.

He still hadn’t cum.

Gerrick let out a frustrated growl as he pulled the dead slut off his shaft, lifting her head out of the water. Her eyes had rolled back into her skull and her muzzle hung open in a dumb gape, her chocolate-brown face darkened to an ugly purple from asphyxiation. He gave her a little shake, hoping to entice a little more life out of her, but she only drooled back in response as her face twitched with the last remnants of life.

“Is something wrong, sir?”

Gerrick arched a brow, glancing up at the Mirror still wrapped around his shoulders, nibbling flirtatiously on some of his longer feathers as she masturbated against him. She met his gaze, eyes alight with lust.

She knew exactly what was wrong, and she knew exactly what she was doing. There was a part of Gerrick that was often annoyed at how she seemed to think she could manipulate him, but in times like these, that part was easily silenced by the heat in his blood.

He dropped the dead Mirror, letting the stream carry the corpse a short distance until it lodged against a nearby fallen log. With a predator’s speed he twisted about and grabbed the living one, clambering out of the water and pinning her face down into the smoothed gravel she’d been sitting on.

She let out a breathy moan as he mounted her, surrounding her with his bulk and sliding his dick through the soft hairs of her tail. She was already wet, marehood flushed with the excitement of watching him snuff her copy, so he wasted no time, pulling his hips back and spearing her on his cock. His balls slapped against her ass with a wet slap, and her cunt winked in response, squeezing invitingly around him as her clit kissed at his balls.

He rutted her with a primal energy, seeking to regain the ground lost during the transition from dead to living mare. She bit her lip and ground her hips against him, bracing her forelegs beneath her and letting out loud, stuttering moans, her cries rising in ecstasy when he wrapped her tail around one claw and pulled, hilting inside her with every pump of his hips.

He threw his head back and closed his eyes, losing himself in the sensation of her warm cunt massaging his length. She knew just how to please him, working her pussy in tandem with his thrusts, relaxing to welcome him deep inside and then clamping down with enough force to splash hot marecum out against his thighs, the powerful muscles of his cunt rippling over his length as he pulled out. He snorted, using his free talon to knead at the soft flesh of her ass, digging the sharp tips in hard enough to draw blood and force a loud, shaky cry from her lips, pushing into her with his hips, fucking her across the riverbed little by little.

Her moans were interrupted by a shocked splutter, and Gerrick looked down, realizing that he’d fucked her head back into the stream. She coughed as she craned her neck back, struggling to keep her muzzle out of the water, and he growled as the rhythmic squeezing of her cunt stopped, her focus apparently shattered by her selfish whims.

No matter. He could get it back.

He leaned over her, pressing her head down under the water and against the hard rocks beneath. Her eyes shot wide open, looking back in shock, but he didn’t slow his movements, fucking her further into the river until the water was rippling up past her shoulders.

She began to panic almost immediately, her hind legs scrabbling around him. He grunted and lifted her ass up by her tail, leaving her hooves to jerk uselessly in the air and causing her to wince from the extra strain on her spine as he put even more weight on her submerged head.

Gerrick’s tail lashed behind him as he watched her eyes screw up in pain and then roll back, leaving only the whites visible as her mouth gaped wide open, silently begging for the air mere inches away. Her pussy squeezed tight around him, every muscle in her body flexing in an instinctual bid for survival, but it did little more than bring him more pleasure as he groaned and shifted from rapid rutting to slow, powerful fucking, straining to overpower the tightness of her cunt and bury himself deep inside her. His balls slapped against her teats and her ass rippled with every thrust as he pulled her rear into him, enveloping his groin in the wet heat of her body. Marecum splattered over his legs and dripped down the inside of her thighs as her flushed cunt betrayed her, winking and squeezing as if desperate to fulfill its purpose before its owner succumbed.

He groaned as the pressure in his balls grew, losing his rhythm as he pushed the tight bead of pleasure up his shaft with every thrust. His legs shuddered and his muscles burned, but nothing would stop him from his release now. A thick stream of bubbles escaped Mirror’s gaping muzzle as she finally gave in, the murderous water flooding her lungs and sealing her fate, and her body fell into powerful convulsions, her pussy swallowing frantically around him.

Gerrick’s balls tightened as he hilted for the final time, grinding against her drooling cunt, and he groaned as his shaft swelled with the first surge of cum. He remained still but for the slight pumping of his hips, packing his seed into her dying pussy, a wave of ecstasy washing over him as her marehood drank greedily, coaxing every spurt from his engorged girth, ensuring that her final sensation would be the fulfillment of her ultimate purpose as she went from a struggling whore to a limp and twitching corpse, accepting the final drops of his release. Throughout it all Gerrick kept his gaze focused on hers, watching the way her face slackened and went still as the last jerks of life left her body.

He relaxed with a satisfied sigh, staggering backwards. Mirror’s hind legs fell back to the ground, and for a brief moment she kept a wobbly balance, head down in the drink and ass high in the air, giving him a fine view of his thick cum dripping from her pussy. Then the tug of the water disturbed her balance and she fell onto her side, creamy white trails staining the soft furs of her thigh.

Gerrick took a moment to catch his breath, enjoying the sunshine and pleasant afterglow of a good rut. After a couple minutes he got back to his feet and rolled Mirror onto her back, eyeing the curve of her belly and her perky teats.

Sex always stoked his appetite, and after taking a moment to consider his options, he leaned down and sliced through her gut with the sharp tip of his beak. He bit down and jerked his head side to side, tearing chunks of meat loose before throwing his head back and gobbling it down, uncaring of the blood that dripped down his neck. He worked his way lower, licking at her teats and feeling how the soft flesh gave under his tongue before biting into them as well, enjoying the fatty meat. He buried his face deep between them, tearing out her womb in a few bloody pieces with hums of contentment, and then began to work his way up, towards the succulent organs of her chest cavity, drinking her blood to sate his thirst. Her still body twitched and jerked like a broken puppet as he ate, snapping tendons and cracking bones.

There was a rustle behind him. Lazily he looked up, a heart dangling from his beak, and saw Mirror Image approaching with a disapproving frown.

“Sir, you’re supposed to be getting clean,” she said.

He shrugged, throwing the heart up into the air and swallowing it in one bite. “There’s plenty of hours left in the day.” His tongue darted out to lick the blood from his beak as he fixed her with an appraising gaze. “I suppose I’ll just need another bath.”

VII: Master Gerrick Meets A Fan

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It was a pleasant enough day, sunny and with a breeze strong enough to tug at the feathers without chilling the skin beneath. Gerrick walked down the country road at an easy, relaxed pace, taking in the wooded, rolling hills framing the horizon. Behind him, a pair of Mirrors pulled his wagon, one alert and composed as usual, the other’s head drooping with exhaustion. The hilly terrain had been hard on the copies responsible for the wagon, and one of the two who’d strapped themselves in that morning had collapsed about an hour ago. It was annoying to have to stop the few minutes required to swap her out with a fresh copy, but as far as Gerrick was concerned, the failure of a mare got what she deserved.

He’d left her on the side of the road with foam frothing from her lips. The wolves would have their way with her.

He was curious as to why the other copy had lasted so much longer. Was it something to do with how long she’d been alive? Perhaps she was unusually fit, or the failed copy was unusually weak? He’d seen a good camping spot not too far back, but he wanted to see if he could get the second one to give in as well. And it was a good day for a walk.

He was pulled from his thoughts by movement ahead as a unicorn mare crested a dip in the path, her eyes looking about intently. She stiffened as she spotted him, an excited grin coming over her, before quickening her pace. She trotted up the path, smile growing, keeping her eyes pointing straight forward.

Gerrick cocked his head, watching the strange mare come closer. Her coat and mane were a ruddy yellow, the latter hanging across her neck in a messy sheet, while her eyes had an off-orange color that reminded him almost of bile. For a moment he considered taking her, but as she came closer he decided against it, looking away. He’d had a big lunch, and wasn’t quite ready for sex.

The mare slowed down a little and began to hum loudly as he passed. He paid her no mind, letting the sound of her voice fade away behind him.

After about a minute, the humming returned. He frowned, looking back, and saw the mare now trotting back towards him. She beamed straight at him, her tail twitching upwards, and trotted just ahead of him before slowing to match his pace. He arched a brow as she began to bob her tail in time with her humming, very aggressively showing her pussy, already glistening with arousal.

Clearly this mare wanted something from him. His first instinct was to be offended—how dare a pony think she could manipulate him like that?—but he just didn’t feel like getting blood on his talons at the moment.

He cleared his throat. The mare stiffened, looking back.

“Oh, hi!” she said, acting as if she hadn’t just been flagging him with a winking pussy for the last sixty seconds. “D-do you need something?”

Gerrick blinked. “Do I know you?”

“Nooo.” She drew the word out with a husky breath.

He narrowed his eyes. “Do you know me?”

“Not exactly.” The mare slowed down, openly devouring him with her eyes as she walked at his side. “But I’ve heard about you.”

“Oh?” Gerrick asked. “What have you heard?”

“Nothing specific.” She bit her lip, looking up to meet his eyes. “But I’ve heard about all the deaths.” She took a step closer, voice dropping huskily. “All those mares left in m-messy pieces.” She shivered, cheeks flushing. “They say there’s a monster out on the roads.”

The mare fluttered her eyelashes, leaning in even closer, and almost tripped when Gerrick came to a sudden stop. The wagon rolled to a standstill behind him, the exhausted Mirror hanging limply in her yoke while the other frowned disapprovingly at her comrade.

“Are you accusing me of something?” Gerrick asked, now sizing the mare up more intently. She didn’t appear dangerous, and indeed the idea of a dangerous pony was laughable, but he knew a unicorn could pack some unexpected surprises.

The mare cocked her head with mock innocence. “What if I am?”

Gerrick’s foreleg flashed out, and the mare squeaked as he wrapped his talons around her neck and hauled up into the air. “Then I would tear out your guts and leave you in the dirt to bleed.”

Instead of whimpering or crying out in terror, the mare actually moaned. She licked her lips as her hind legs crossed mid-air. “Oh, y-yes!” she groaned, straining to speak past her constrained throat. There was a sudden heavy splattering sound as a surge of arousal spilled from her swollen pussy. “And r-rape me first! Put me in my place!”

Gerrick blinked.

This mare was mad.

More importantly, she apparently wanted him to kill her. And Gerrick would be damned if he let some random pony slut march up and get exactly what she wanted from him. He threw her back like a dirty rag, trying not to think too long about the way she moaned as she hit the ground and rolled off the embankment.

He rolled his eyes, beckoning to his Mirrors with a flick of his tail, and resumed down the path, only for the strange mare to bounce back to her hooves a couple seconds later, face flushed and tongue lolling.

“Wait!” she moaned, stumbling after him. “I’m still alive!”

Gerrick clacked his beak in irritation, rounding on the mare as she tried to hit him with some kind of perverse tackle. He reared up and grabbed her in his talons, flipping her onto her back hard enough to leave her stunned. He lifted one hand up high before raking his talons across her face, leaving three long gashes spurting blood, then shoved her to the side and stomped on her head just for good measure.

To his relief, the mare seemed to have finally gone quiet. She groaned limply, pussy winking and releasing another flood of excitement onto the dirt.

“Disgusting,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. He didn’t look back as he walked away, satisfied that the matter was resolved.


Mirror Image suppressed a yawn as she laid down next to the campfire. The sun had set hours ago, and the original Mirror had been granted the privilege of sleeping with Master Gerrick in the tent, leaving her and another copy to sleep outside, cuddled together for warmth under a thin blanket. It had been a long day, and the Master had run two copies to collapse from the exertion of pulling their wagon, so she was glad to get some rest.

Just as she curled up and lowered her head, a sudden snapping sound from the trees caught her ear. Her head jerked up as she squinted towards the noise, ears swiveling.

There was a mare standing at the edge of the firelight, shivering with excitement, eyes wide.

The same mare that had approached them earlier that day.

Mirror frowned, standing sharply and nudging the other copy. She woke quickly, and both copies glared at the unwelcome intruder.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, careful to keep her voice low. Intruder or not, it was a maid’s job to handle such issues without disturbing her master.

“I, uh—” the strange mare grinned, waggling her eyebrows “—I’m here to get raped and murdered by a sexy, heartless griffon!”

Mirror cocked her head, temporarily wondering if she had heard correctly. She exchanged a confused glance with her copy and realized that, yes, she had heard right.

Some crazy Equestrian was trying to steal her master’s attention.

A moment passed as Mirror and the other copy communicated silently, reading each other’s expressions with the near-perfect accuracy only possible between two mares that were only a few days apart from being the same pony. An agreement was reached, and they shared a quick nod.

Turning back to the Equestrian, Mirror turned around, raised a hind leg, and bucked her in the side of the head.

“Oof!” The Equestrian fell over with a sharp gasp, hitting the ground hard.

Mirror wasted no time following up, unleashing a brutal barrage of kicks to the mare’s barrel. Her copy joined in quickly, stomping on the mare’s glistening cunt and grinding the hard edge of her hoof into it. The mare let out a loud moan as tears budded in her eyes, and her marehood winked powerfully against her torturer’s hoof, spraying arousal onto the grass.

Mirror’s lip curled back in disgust. She straddled the mare before sitting heavily on her face, silencing her whorish cries. She grabbed the mare’s horn in one hoof and roughly jerked it forwards, causing her to wince in pain. Mirror struck the base of the invasive mare’s horn with her hoof, the impact creating a gut-wrenching crack that only grew deeper and wetter as Mirror continued to batter at it, wrenching it side to side.

The mare shrieked into Mirror’s pussy and convulsed violently between her legs, eyes screwing up and cheeks flushing, but Mirror didn’t stop. The vibrations sent a thrill of pleasure through her, and she bit her lip to suppress a moan as she grabbed the horn in both hooves and, with a final surge of effort, snapped it off.

Instead of another scream, the mare responded with a long, shuddering moan, her tongue pressing deep into Mirror’s marehood. Something wet sprinkled on Mirror’s back, and she glanced back with a frown to watch her victim’s pussy give a powerful wink, marecum spraying into the air as the other copy stomped on it again.

Mirror grimaced. What kind of sick Equestrian had ran into her master’s camp? She fixed the mare with a look of disgust—which only seemed to draw out another husky moan—before lifting a hoof and punching her hard, straight in the nose.

The mare fell silent, and Mirror stood up with a shake of her head. She spent a few seconds examining the mare, her body limp but for the sole exception of her twitching pussy.

“Let’s get rid of her,” she said, glancing at her other copy. “We can drag her off into the woods before Master Gerrick wakes up.”

“Good idea,” her copy said. “You get the front end.”

They moved quickly, hefting the mare up by her mane and tail, and carried her away from the camp. It didn’t take long for them to find a little ditch. They threw her bodily into it, pausing to watch her roll down the short slope before making back for camp. Midnight interruptions or no, a good maid always had to be ready to work in the morning, and they needed their sleep.


Gerrick crawled out of his tent with a cat-like stretch, flaring his wings and glancing up at the pale blue of the morning sun. A pair of Mirrors were waiting patiently next to the campfire, slowly turning a spit with some unrecognizable lumps of mare meat charred on its length.

"Morning, Master," one said. "Ready for breakfast?"

"After I take a piss." He turned to the woods, jerking his head back at his tent. "There's a mess in there from last night."

"Yes, sir." The other Mirror stood at once, dipping her head into a bow. "We'll take care of it."

He didn’t acknowledge the response, instead walking off at a relaxed pace. There was a thin fog hanging around the trees that clung to his coat and dripped off the tips of his feathers, the chill refreshing his sleep-addled mind. He took long, slow steps, each one almost a stretch in its own right, until finally choosing a tree.

There was nothing special about the tree. In fact there was no reason for him to leave the camp at all just to relieve himself, but he enjoyed stretching his legs a little in the morning. He sighed, rearing up and digging his talons into the tree’s bark, looking up at the leaves above as he took a deep breath and relaxed his bladder.

A rhythmic crackling reached his ears, like hooves on wet leaves, growing louder with alarming speed. He stiffened, head snapping towards the sound just as the stream of piss left him, and spotted something running towards him at full speed.

Gerrick was used to violence. He had predator instincts honed from years of chasing down ponies that could snap at any moment, going from an obedient servant to desperately fleeing prey or even a miniscule threat. Normally he’d have reacted in an instant, spinning to confront the new threat, but there was something surreal about it all that gave him pause. It was that same yellow mare from before, the one he’d thought he’d dealt with already, sprinting straight for him, her eyes affixed between his legs. The sheer mad hunger in her eyes was almost frightening, and it held him in place for the scant few seconds she needed.

The mare slid to a stop beneath him, wrapping her lips around the exposed tip of his dick with an alarming ease and accuracy. She began to suck immediately, eyes fluttering as she guzzled his piss, and Gerrick’s legs shook from the unexpected pleasure as she lapped at him with her warm tongue, letting out a shaky moan. He grunted, reflexively reaching down to grab her head with a half a mind to crush her skull right there, but the relaxing sensation of emptying his bladder combined with the warmth of the mare’s muzzle and the tingling vibration of her continuing moans gave him pause. He found himself pumping his hips, dick sliding completely from his sheath, slapping his balls against her chin as he let out a strained groan and deposited a long stream of urine straight into her gullet.

His mind blanked for several seconds as the mare began to slide her head along his length, pressing her lips tight around him at the base before pulling back, sucking the last drops from him. She worked furiously at her cunt with one hoof, moaning to herself with eyes rolled up in bliss, while using the other to brace herself against his muscular thigh.

Then his thoughts caught up to him, and he realized some pony whore had just assaulted him in the woods.

He ripped her off his dick with a snarl, lifting her into the air by her mane and pinning her against the tree he’d meant to piss on. “What the fuck are you doing, whore?”

“Oh, y-yes, please!” She bit her lip, still rubbing at her pussy. Her clit winked out, a bright, agitated pink. “Punish me! P-put me in my place! Snuff out my worthless m-mare life!”

Gerrick’s growl faltered as his beak hung open in shock. He blinked, giving her a rough shake. “Shut up!”

“Make me!” She spat in his face, panting with arousal. “Are you gonna let a worthless mare like me defy you? Tear my head off, slice my belly open, rip out my cunt with that sexy fucking knife on your face you call a beak, oh f-fuck, I’m so fucking hot!”

Anger surged inside him. He lashed out, raking his talons across the mare’s muzzle before flinging her around and slamming her into the ground beneath him. She grunted, going blissfully silent as the impact knocked the wind from her, and he immediately shoved his cock into her gaping mouth. She’d got him hard with it, after all, and every stupid word she uttered just pissed him off even more. Her hind legs kicked haphazardly as he fucked her throat, his balls slapping against her nose, but all the while she kept one hoof working at her marehood.

“Stupid slut!” The idea that she was getting off to this only made him fuck her harder, slamming his hips into her muzzle enough to hurt even himself. He leaned down, biting the mare’s masturbating leg near the base, and twisted it hard to the side. It snapped with a wet crunch as blood flooded his beak, and he grinned at the sound of her pained shriek.

Then the whore had the audacity to bring her other foreleg over and try masturbating with that. He grabbed it with his talons, sinking them into the bone before giving a mighty pull. The slut’s throat convulsed around his length as he tore the leg free, flinging it aside in a spray of blood, but he didn’t ease his throatfucking in the slightest. He snorted and squeezed her throat with one hand, almost jerking himself off with it as he fucked her face, watching as the mare’s hips bucked and twisted in pain.

Her pussy winked, spraying a deluge of marecum into the air, and with a start he realized the bitch was actually licking at him, trying to service him as he raped her throat. Somehow she was still getting off to what any sane creature would consider horrifying torture, and he was determined to put a stop to it.

He leaned over her, digging the sharp edge of his beak into her cunt and pulling up, tearing out her engorged clit. She screeched around his cock, going completely rigid beneath him and spraying bloody piss onto the grass, but he didn’t let up. He swallowed the bloody clit and dove back in, ripping her pussy lips apart until only a red gash remained, a thick, frothy mixture of blood, urine, and marecum drooling down onto her tail. All the while he continued to fuck her throat, his lust fueled by the hot blood on his tongue and the wet squelching of her throat as he squeezed it around his girth, losing himself to his predatory instincts.

He worked his way up from there, tearing her nipples off each of her bouncing teats in turn. He buried his beak into the wounds left behind and tore out strips of fatty flesh, then sliced her gut open and dug his face inside, tearing meat out in ragged chunks. The mare’s husky screams grew gradually weaker as the blood loss took its toll on her and still he kept going, grabbing her hind legs with his talons and pulling them wide apart, eating at the space between her legs until there was nothing left but hanging entrails and sliced meat.

Somehow she was still alive, her hot throat convulsing around his length. He straightened up and grabbed her head, smashing it into his groin with enough force to send drops of blood flying from her nose. There was a wet crunch, and he groaned as her muzzle cracked and gave way, allowing him to get even deeper down her throat. The pressure in his shaft swelled and tightened, jumping higher every time he bottomed out in her broken muzzle. The blood trickling down his tongue, the sight of her mutilated cunt, the powerful retches that still rocked her body with enough force to send her hind legs kicking into the air, the bloodshot whites of her eyes, the way her wet tongue pushed dumbly against his cock in some instinctive attempt to push him out—finally it pushed him over the edge.

He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned as he shot a jet of cum down the dying mare’s gullet, hilting himself and grinding against the bloody mess of her face. Blood welled around his talons as they dug into her throat in the throes of his orgasm, and without thinking he tore her head from her neck, jerking it along his length like a toy. The tip of his cock emerged from the stump, spraying cum over the corpse as warm blood spurted from its neck, splattering against his balls and joining the frothy drool already dripping down onto the grass. He threw his head back and let out a shrill, victorious eagle cry, crowing his dominance over the dumb mare that had challenged him as he came on her twitching carcass.

Finally he came down from his high, feathered chest heaving. He pulled her severed head from his cock and threw it carelessly aside, sneering down at the body.

“Pony whore.” He lashed out, kicking her corpse across the grass. “Drinking my fucking piss like some lunatic. You want more, slut?”

He stalked over to the red, gaping hole where her pussy used to be, shoving his softening dick into her gut. He might have just relieved himself, but he always had to take a piss after sex. He grinned as he sprayed a fresh stream of urine into the mare before stepping back and watching the last vestiges of life twitch through her body.

He took a deep breath, turning away and heading back for the camp. Even after all that, he was still upset. His eyes fell on a curious Mirror as he emerged from the trees, and his talons flexed in the dirt.

“Mirror!” he barked, making her jump with the sharpness of his voice. “I need to work through some anger.”