Contractual Pleasure
Rarity prided herself on her ability to draft a contract. She’d been in the fashion industry long enough to do so with practiced ease. She always ensured that they were brief, easy to read, and beneficial to all parties involved.
Though she would happily admit that her own skills in this department paled in comparison to Fancy Pants’.
The contract before her was very much like the hundreds she’d designed for commissions. Only, there were a few key differences. Primarily the choice of commodity. Instead of linen, her agreement was for flesh. And instead of sewing, the trade was far older and cruder in nature.
The formality of the document was enough to send a shiver up her spine, even if this would hold little actual legal authority if it was forced to stand up on its own in court. After all, the idea of a contract for indentured servitude had been outlawed many centuries ago, even if the term was for a single day instead of several years or life.
She hummed to herself as she traced a hoof over the various lines, reading them with an efficiency that would make Twilight Sparkle envious. Then, as she reached the bottom and the two blank spots that were left for names, she nodded to herself.
“I will admit that this is an expertly crafted document,” Rarity murmured, lifting her reading glasses away from her eyes.
Fancy Pants looked across the table at her, offering a tight smile. “You’re not the only business pony in the room, dear.” He tapped a hoof against the mahogany of his dining room table. “Were there any parts that were unclear?”
Rarity pursed her lips and briefly glanced at the contract again.
“Service ends at a minute before midnight tomorrow,” Rarity read. “My body will be free for you to use as you please until then?”
Fancy waved a hoof. “Unless you utter the word charcoal or an equivalent non-verbal gesture that can be established in any instances where your mouth is otherwise occupied.”
“Don’t you just love when you can abracadabra your way out of a legal obligation,” Rarity joked. “Wish I could do that with some of the commissions I’ve taken in the past.”
Fancy snorted. “I’d much prefer this concession than trying to defend the contract in court if I did get out of line. I believe the statutes on consent supersede pretty much any legalise written down in there.”
“Well, it is a very official looking piece to the roleplay.” Rarity hummed and continued to read. “It says here that I am also to submit to any house guests that you may have over?”
“Is that a problem?” Fancy asked, smirking at her. “You’ve never been particularly bashful when it came to group play.”
Rarity shook her head. “Not at all, Fancy. Just wondering if this is a red herring or if you’re spoiling what you intend to do with me.”
“Think of it as me keeping my options open.” Fancy looked at her. “Now my question, for you, is what type of attitude will we be going for this time around?”
“Pardon?” Rarity asked.
Fancy motioned towards her. “Well, are you going to be a bashful, yet willing, servant. Or a rowdy and disobedient shrew who resents my ownership and seeks to rebel against it?”
Rarity hummed and picked up a pen, taping her lip with it. “It has been awhile since you treated me like a captive. How about a black-market purchase? I’m assuming that you have a few contacts who have versed you on this dark and mysterious world.”
“I mean who doesn’t in this city,” Fancy grumbled. “With the tariffs they put in place on imports, it’s any wonder that there’s still law-abiding consumers left in this city. Do you know how much a grey market bottle of brandy goes for?”
“How much?” Rarity asked.
“Thirty-two bits. Meanwhile, you go to a government vendor and you’re looking for something closer to fifty.”
Rarity whistled. “They really do hose you on duties, don’t they?”
Fancy nodded. “Well, Celestia does have herself a captive and extremely affluent audience. She is well aware of the fact that once you move outside the city, you become a nobody…” He blinked. “No offense.”
“Just try and remember to act that pompous during the roleplay, would you?” Rarity smirked and looked back to the document. She struck out a line, editing it with red. “Now, I do have a comment about this portion that says that my body is open for modifications…”
“Merely written because it sounded more submissive,” Fancy commented. “I thought you might find it… hot.”
Rarity nodded. “Still, I’ll need to veto that one. One bad mane day is more than enough for a lifetime and even the threat is a bit much for me.”
She continued to rove the document. It was only a single page long and a lot of that was padded with legal jargon that meant next to nothing with something like this. Still, there was very little Rarity could complain about.
She bit her lip and looked across the table at Fancy Pants.
“I still find this fetish of yours to be a little queer,” Fancy murmured, flashing her a coy smile. “Does that contract really make you hot and bothered?”
Rarity dipped her pen in ink and scribbled her lovely signature at the bottom. “Now, darling, are you really the kind of gentlestallion who is going to kinkshame a mare?” She smirked. “Especially one who is willing to cater to a vast majority of your own, equally strange, kinks?”
She then slid the document over to Fancy Pants, who viewed it himself. He threw Rarity one final amused smolder before scribbling away with his own signature.
“Well, I believe that officially marks you as a piece of property, Miss Rarity Belle,” Fancy said, delicately resting the pen upon the table.
He rolled up the document and tied a neat ribbon around it. Then he drew forth a stamp kit and applied his own professional wax seal to the ribbon. It really did look like quite the professional display and a nice piece of showmanship to boot.
“A souvenir for you to jill off with later,” Fancy teased, showing it to her before stowing it away in a nearby cupboard. He then faced her again, pressing his forelegs together. “Well, I suppose that means I own you for the next little while.”
“I suppose it does,” Rarity said, biting her lip.
Fancy’s eyes darted towards the entryway. “I’m just trying to figure out the best way to uh… establish our new equilibrium.” He hummed. “Are you confident placing yourself in shackles?”
Rarity nodded. “I’ve done it once or twice before.”
“Then how about I give you a little time to prep yourself while I brew a cup of tea,” Fancy said.
“Are the toys still in the living room?” Rarity asked.
Fancy smirked. “And the spare key is hidden under the clock on the mantel.”
He got up and made his way towards the entryway.
Rarity gave him about thirty seconds to get to his destination before slipping out of her chair and making her way towards the living room.
As she entered, she lifted the clock on the mantel and grabbed the little key affixed to the bottom.
With this key, she went over to a chest tucked away in the corner, hidden under a blanket. She removed the blanket and unlocked the chest, cracking it open.
Inside were all manner of risqué toys and accessories. Though what caught her attention were the hefty set of steel chains with an assortment of equally barbaric looking cuffs. The sight of them alone was enough to send a shiver up her spine, making her lower lips wink in anticipation.
This was the kind of stuff they used to make captives march in, during the darker days of Equestrian history.
She had little idea where her affinity for this craft came for. Maybe it was one too many dime novel romances, polluting her mind. Though, she couldn’t recall a single story where the villain won in the end, ensuring the fair maiden such a ghastly fate.
Though she supposed that’s where fantasizing came in. It made up for what the written word lacked.
Rarity’s mind couldn’t help but wander, thinking about the gentlestallion in the kitchen brewing a cup of tea. Only he ceased to be a gentlestallion a mere signature ago. He was now a warden, a jailor, a pony who captured and enslaved. He was a brute; even if a handsome one.
She picked up the chains and drew them out, laying them upon the floor.
If she put these on, what was there to stop Fancy from making this arrangement permanent? After all, she’d be helpless against him and whatever nefarious ideas he could concoct.
She shivered, feeling her cheeks warm. For sure, a life of servitude would be most inconvenient for her career, but what if Fancy decided that she was simply too divine to surrender once the contract ended?
A whole life of nothing but sucking his cock and…
“Tea doesn’t take that long to brew, Rarity!” Fancy called in a sing-song tone. “And I hear a distinct lack of chains being clamped upon your person.”
Rarity’s cheeks burned bright red. “Sorry, sorry, I…” She swallowed a lump in her throat. “I am rather distracted at the moment.”
Fancy chuckled, his voice loud enough that the rumble of it reached her. “Pervert.” He sighed; the headshake apparent in his tone. “Would you like me to do the shackling, dear? I should’ve remembered that you like when somepony else does it for you.”
Rarity bit her lip. “But that isn’t part of your character!”
“Put on a hood or something,” Fancy instructed. “If you can’t see me, then I can play multiple silent roles quite effectively. I’ll have you know that I was a very capable actor back in grade school. Played quite the convincing piece of landscaping.”
“I’m sure you were,” Rarity murmured.
She went back to the chest and found a simple blindfold within. As she drew it out, she also made sure to grab a magic-supressing ring that was tucked away under a flap.
Hoofsteps approached and Rarity moved quickly.
She laid down upon the floor and drew the blindfold over her eyes, snapping it in place in the back. With the ring, she clumsily glided it across the grooves of her horn, stopping when it was right above her.
These rings were always such a bitch to put on without assistance.
Rarity dropped it and the ring slid down on its own. She felt no change in her situation, so she attempted a meagre cantrip. She only felt the irritation of feedback, however, as the ring denied her even this minor attempt at spellcasting.
The hoofsteps grew closer and they soon entered the room. Rarity could smell the sweetness of a strong cup of orange pekoe with honey and cream. This cup was placed on a nearby table as the ‘mysterious’ assailant approached.
He lingered above her, so close that Rarity could smell the allure of his cologne. Just a dash of Trotham Five, an expensive blend. So far two scents that did not exactly put Rarity in the mindset of facing off against a brutish stallion.
“Desperate whore,” the stallion scoffed, sounding like a gruffier version of Fancy Pants. He reached out and grabbed a nice hoofful of Rarity’s mane, tugging upon it roughly. “Did you honestly think that you could short us on the bits, you bitch?”
Rarity swallowed a lump in her throat, feeling her lower lips grow quite tender. “Please, you know that I’m good for the money.”
“Oh, we know that you’re good for it.” The stallion said. “Your business, not so much, but you… oh you’ll fetch a nice price from one of the brothels in the city.”
He drew close to her, his lips brushing against her neck. As he exhaled, a burst of warmth tickled at her coat, eliciting a tiny nicker from the back of her throat.
“Or who knows,” the stallion whispered, his voice licking at her ears and making her shiver in discomfort. “Maybe we’ll find a private collector who’s willing to shell out a nice price for a piece of ass like yours.”
His hoof rested against her cutie mark, rubbing it in rough circles. Rarity could practically feel the devilish little smile that this barbarian bore.
“You might look like a lady.” He grabbed her tail, lifting it up and exposing her wet hole. “But after you service a few dozen cocks, you’ll just be another two-bit hooker working on Ninth and Saddlebrook. Always so much fun seeing the high society types in this kind of situation.”
His horn sparked and his magic groped for one of her forelegs, forcing it out in front of her. He then grabbed one of the shackles and clamped it around her limb. It was a tight fit, snug and heavy upon her. Next, her other foreleg joined it, being cast in the heavy metal.
Between the two limbs, there was not much slack to the chain, less than a foot at best. Walking in these would be clumsy and slow.
Next, her hindlegs were chained up as well. They were given an equal lack of freedom in the bondage. The heavy links gave her only the most rudimentary range of motion. She’d be hobbled and sluggish, forced to stumble along for her captor’s amusement.
Finally, the piece de resistance was locked into place. A heavy metal collar that clung to her throat, quite burdensome against her already shaky frame. It was a slave collar, plain and simple, a symbol meant to degrade and break her.
Her pussy leaked, excited by the proposition.
The stallion drew away and Rarity heard him pick up the tea, taking a delicate sip. She rolled her eyes under the blindfold, finding it quite difficult to believe that a pony trafficker would drink tea in such a dainty manner.
As he placed down the cup, he grabbed the chain lead that was attached to her collar, giving it a gentle tug, just to let her know that it was there.
“Stand up,” the stallion barked.
Rarity did so without question, getting to her hooves.
“What are you going to do with…” Rarity began, whimpering to herself.
The question died on the tip of her tongue as the stallion lashed out, striking her right across the face. The blow sent her world spinning, even from behind the safety of the blindfold.
“A mare in your position will speak when she is spoken to,” the stallion growled.
Rarity opened her mouth, ready to let out a rather indignant comment. But as soon as her lips parted, the stallion struck her again, right across the other cheek. Once more her world spun and a bright pain blossomed and ebbed throughout her complexion.
This successfully drove his message home, getting Rarity to clam up and do as she was told.
The stallion tugged upon the chain and started to walk away.
Rarity remained motionless, not trusting herself to advance without being able to see. The chain went taut and she stumbled a half step forward. But besides that, she refused to budge any further.
The stallion growled. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to let you walk into anything. Last thing we need is damaged goods.”
Rarity supposed that was a good enough excuse and took a careful step forward. It felt strange to put her trust into such an untrustworthy stallion, but what else could she do?
Slowly, she walked through the townhouse. And even though she knew this locale intimately, she still felt confused, having little idea where she was actually heading.
Thankfully, they avoided any stairs as they made their way through a series of corridors.
The only thing Rarity could hear was the jingle of the metal chains, accented by the occasional sip from her host who loudly enjoyed his tea. Clearly, he had a change of heart and decided that his prior etiquette was not ghastly enough for a stallion of his roguish character.
Finally, they entered a new room. This one was colder than the hallways and had a tiled floor.
A shiver ran up Rarity’s spine. Very little of that had to do with the change in temperature however. There was an anxiety within her, a nucleus of fear. She was entering that special place where the roleplay was starting to merge with reality.
In that moment, the fear felt a little less playful. In that moment, she actually felt like the slave who was about to be auctioned off and sold to an owner.
It really was such an exciting thought.
The stallion dropped the chain and it clanged against the floor. The loud crash made Rarity tense, a pathetic mew dripping forth.
“I got some calls to make,” the stallion said. “Put out a couple of feelers and see who would be interested in you.” He snorted. “But don’t worry, I’ll be back to keep you company, soon enough.”
He came up behind her and rested a hoof against her rump. He rubbed it gently, almost soothingly, before drawing back and delivering a potent slap, right across her flank. It impacted with an impressive clap, driving a blossom of heat right into her cutie mark.
Rarity gasped, crying out in disdain. “You brute!”
The stallion chuckled and stepped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Rarity stood there in anticipation, quivering. She tried to get any hints of where she may have been. The stallion had not removed her blindfold. This meant that she had nothing to go on but the temperature and flooring of the room. A cellar perhaps? Or maybe a water closet?
The seconds ticked along with nothing but her own breathing providing any noise. There was no bleed in from the hall or neighbouring rooms.
This provided her with her second hint. Wherever she was, was soundproofed, which narrowed her decisions to a single choice within Fancy’s manor.
The panic room, which also doubled as a BDSM dungeon.
Rarity drew in an unsteady breath, taking a cautious step forward. This proved to be the wrong decision to make as her snout bumped roughly into something wooden.
“Ouch,” she murmured, crinkling her snout. “Well, is he just going to leave me here to rot?”
A few more seconds went by in utter silence. The lack of external noises was eerie. There wasn’t even the creaking of old pipes or the distant noises of busy urban life. There was nothing but Rarity’s breathing and the beating of her own heart.
Then a magical lock disengaged and the door swung back open. Heavy hooffalls approached, followed by a rumble of laughter. It was a familiar laugh, sending her heart soaring.
“Fancy Pants?” Rarity asked.
Was he here to save her?
Fancy snorted. “You know, when my contacts told me that they’d found something special, I didn’t quite believe them. But I’ll admit you’re a once in a lifetime acquisition, dear.”
As he walked past her, a bead of his magic glided across her side. The sensation was enough to draw forth a meek note of dissatisfaction from Rarity.
What was he doing?
She swallowed a lump in her throat.
Probably just having a bit of fun with her for ending up in such an unfortunate situation. Surely just a little bit of ribbing.
“Thank gods it was you who found me,” Rarity said, letting out a nervous chuckle. “I’d hate to see what some less reputable goon would’ve done with me.”
“Something like this?” Fancy asked.
His magic gripped her tail and lifted it away from her lower lips. He then dipped forwards and pressed his tongue against her folds, lapping at them tenderly. As he drew away, he murmured approvingly, smacking his lips together as if sampling a fine lacquer.
“Fancy!” Rarity gasped. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Not at all, dear.” Fancy rested a hoof upon her cutie mark, rubbing it. “In fact, I would’ve been insane to pass up on the price they were offering. A premium set of holes for only five figures.” He chuckled to himself. “I’ve always dreamt of getting a slave of your calibre.”
Slave? Surely, Fancy couldn’t be…
Rarity swallowed a lump in her throat. “Please.”
“I mean, honestly, you only have yourself to blame,” Fancy said. “This wouldn’t have happened if you would’ve better handled your assets. It’s never wise to borrow money from ponies who have a reputation for crime.”
“You’re not here to save me?” Rarity whimpered.
Fancy snorted. “In a way, I am saving you. Could you imagine being shipped off to some whorehouse in the red-light district? At the very least, you’ll be the private concubine of a respectable gentlestallion. I’d say that sounds far better than servicing commoners for five bits a round.” He drew up in front of her, resting a hoof upon her cheek. “If you’re good I may even allow you to return to that hobby you call dressmaking.”
Rarity tried to look away, but Fancy used his magic to keep her blindfolded eyes upon where his face likely was.
“In fact, I think you should thank me for showing you such consideration,” Fancy said.
Rarity growled. “Thank you for enslaving me?” She barked laughter. “I’d rather…”
She wasn’t allowed to finish that thought as Fancy lashed out, cracking his hoof right across her already blemished cheek.
“I see that some lessons will need to be beaten into you,” Fancy grumbled. “A shame, but honestly, I do enjoy it when my slaves have a little bit of a fight left in them. Makes it so much better when the light finally dies out.”
He grabbed her blindfold and tossed it aside.
As Rarity thought, they were in Fancy’s private dungeon. The room was sterile and modern looking. A juxtaposition to the old and aristocratic manor that it was housed in.
Fancy was grinning such a sinister grin, eyeing her up like the villain in a harlequin. Only, Rarity doubted that there would be some dashing gentlestallion to save her in the end. His gaze felt objectifying though that sensation was further helped by the heavy shackles and collar that were currently weighing her down.
“Dear, you really are too much fun,” Fancy said, tutting and shaking his head. “Such a high-quality piece of meat.” He placed a hoof under her muzzle, forcing her to look him in the eye. “Of course, I will have to start by debasing you. I think that’s a very crucial first step when it comes to this sort of thing. Got to make sure that you realize that there will be no more banquets and galas in your future.” He patted her cheek. “All you have to look forward to is which hole I’ll be draining myself into and at what time.”
He dipped forwards and pressed his lips against her own. His kiss was hungry and crude as he pushed his tongue deep into her mouth. Rarity’s knee’s quaked and a pleasured little note bubbled forth from the back of her throat.
Fancy dominated with the kiss, ensuring that she knew who was in control. It made her pussy ache with want. And when he eventually drew away, she couldn’t help but surrender a dopey little smile.
Then, as she saw him smirking at her, she remembered her character and forced herself to scowl.
“Do your worst,” Rarity said.
Fancy shook his head. “No, no. My worst is reserved for later. We’ll start with something moderately awful and work our way up from there. Now I’d love to start with a blowjob, but I am really hesitant to put such a sensitive piece of my anatomy between your lips. Unless…”
He drew away and made his way over to a shelf on the left. This one was also filled with toys, many of them being duplicates of those kept in the chest in his living room. A waste, but Rarity thought that if any stallion could justify the expense it would be Fancy Pants.
Rarity refused to look at him as he collected his tools, instead staring straight ahead at the door. It was closed with a heavy deadbolt keeping it shut. Even if she could overpower Fancy and hobble over -- in chains no less -- then she’d still be unable to open it without the unlocking spell. A spell that would prove impossible to summon with the ring around her horn.
Fancy came back in front of her, hovering a covered tray at his side. He placed it upon a nearby table and fetched a ring gag from the underneath the black napkin that obscured the collection.
Rarity glared at him but kept her mouth shut, refusing to even entertain the idea of allowing him to slip it between her lips.
Sadly, the gag was not the only toy upon the tray. Fancy’s magic emboldened and he also drew forth a cattle prod. He didn’t immediately touch it to Rarity’s coat, instead holding it between them. When her lips still refused to part, he pressed the button and a bolt of angry blue electricity sparked between the two diodes.
A bead of sweat formed on Rarity’s brow.
“Come now, Rarity,” Fancy grumbled. “Can we do something the easy way for once?”
Rarity steeled her jaw, pressing her lips firmly together. She narrowed her gaze and made a show of shaking her head from side to side. If Fancy wanted that gag in her mouth then he would have to fight for it.
And fight for it, he did.
He pressed the tip of the cattle prod against her side and pressed the button. The pain of electricity was sharp and fiery, drawing forth a legitimate yelp of agony. Which, sadly, gave Fancy the opportunity he was looking for.
He quickly shoved the gag into her mouth, clasping the sturdy leather closed in the back. Rarity fought against it, but her mortal jaw had no hope against the sturdy steel of the ring.
Instead, she attempted to fidget and jerk away from Fancy. Though, he merely held up the crackling cattle rod as an example of why she shouldn’t do such a thing.
Her gaze narrowed but she submitted to his silent request. She was stubborn but not an idiot. A single shock from the prod was defiance, any more and she’d only weaken herself and make things harder when she finally had an opportunity to escape.
Fancy grabbed the chain affixed to her collar, giving it a gentle tug as he stepped away from her.
He moved towards a very minimalistic living space that was within the panic room. It only had a sofa and coffee table, both of which looked like they’d been plucked right from the pages of a Neigh-Kea catalogue.
Fancy sat down upon the sofa and patted the empty spot beside him.
“I know it’s poor form to allow pets on the furniture, but I’m sure neither of us will scoff at the idea,” he said.
Rarity looked at the spot, then at Fancy. She couldn’t help but notice that his shaft had already started to press out of its sheath. A heavy droplet of pre glistened at the very tip of his unflared pride.
The sight of it was enough to make Rarity’s mind pause the roleplay and instead focus on something more instinctual and lustful. That pre was a tantalizing treat, and she wanted that cock within her, there was no doubt about that. It was just the ideal size, both long and girthy enough for a mare of her exacting standards.
Fancy cleared his throat and Rarity stirred from her stupor, blushing as she realized that she’d been gawking.
She steeled her expression and ‘reluctantly’ clambered upon the sofa. Her gagged snout hovered just above Fancy’s erection.
Saliva had already started to pool within her mouth. A heavy droplet landed upon the head of Fancy’s erection, eliciting an excitable little noise from him.
He reached up and rested a hoof upon the back of her head, gently running it through her luxurious mane.
“If you do a good job, dear,” Fancy said. “I promise I’ll show an inkling of mercy when it comes time for your evening’s accommodations.”
Now, she didn’t want that at all.
She growled in defiance, snarling at him.
Fancy sighed and started to slowly coil her mane around his foreleg, grabbing a nice hoofful of it for leverage. He then forced her down himself. The first couple inches of his cock slipped past her gag with ease, resting upon her tongue.
He tasted like a virile stallion, rich with an erotic salinity. Her cunt winked at the taste of his pride, and she wasn’t ignorant of the wetness that chafed between her thighs.
What a depraved little slut she was, getting off to the idea of being enslaved by a dear friend. Surely a therapist would have a field day with her.
Fancy bobbed her along slowly, setting a rather modest tempo. His initial strides were shallow, covering only the portion of his cock above the medial ring. Then slowly, as her saliva really started to flow, he emboldened, growing a bit rougher with each thrust into her mouth.
“Simply divine,” Fancy murmured, idly rocking his cock between her lips. “I don’t know what it is but getting head from a reluctant mare is always so much more pleasurable.” He scoffed. “Though I suppose that is a rather alarming thing to admit.”
Rarity closed her eyes, concentrating upon the cock within her mouth. She started to roll her tongue around it, slurping lewdly. Sure, that may have seemed a little too eager for a supposedly reluctant mare, but she had to strike some sort of balance between the roleplay and her insatiable lust.
Fancy groaned softly, deciding not to comment on this change in her attitude. Instead, he allowed himself to succumb to the pleasure. He steeled his grip and started to really go to town upon her mouth as he hammered into her with increasing boldness.
Faster and faster, deeper and deeper he drove her along. It didn’t take long before Rarity simply went limp, allowing her mouth to be used like some kind of fleshlight.
Eventually, he pressed into her throat and pinned her against the base of his erection. He held her there tightly, with no room to budge.
Almost immediately, she started to gag and sputter. The noise was ugly and crude, pairing expertly with the irritation of a cock wedged in her windpipe.
She felt a panic flare, in the back of her mind, as her ability to breath was denied to her.
Tears prickled in her eyes as she opened them, feeling twin streaks roll down her cheeks. She had no doubt that they carried mascara with them, drawing a rather whorish complexion upon her face. Though, thankfully, she knew Fancy adored such a look.
“You know I could just leave you like this,” Fancy murmured.
He unwound her mane, instead setting this hoof on the back of her neck. This new position was curious but still denied her the ability to retreat. The answer to this silent puzzle came soon after, as a second hoof came up and started to gently stroke her mane. A kind gesture that clashed with all the sputtering and gagging she was doing.
“I’m just weighing my options,” he continued. “You’d be so much easier to handle if you were unconscious. After all, your cunt is your cunt. It hardly matters if you’re conscious to experience it. All that really matters is my enjoyment.”
Rarity jerked back against the hoof, but Fancy was deceptively strong. He held her at bay with such ease, barely even budging against her best efforts.
She continued to gag, feeling that nefarious little fire smolder in her lungs. That edge of asphyxiation. It always managed to make her a soaking wet mess whenever it afflicted her and this time was no different, adding more wetness to her already sopping cunt.
As she rubbed her thighs together, she could feel the flow of juices as they soaked into her coat, dampening it.
“But on the other hoof,” Fancy commented, moving his hoof away from her mane and motioning with it. “It would be so much more fun to see that look of defeat in your eyes when I finally get around to pumping you full of my cum.”
He hummed and hawed to himself. All the while Rarity slowly started to tarry and weaken. The smolder of fire soon caught and her lungs began to burn. Her vision still remained strong but she had no doubt that the first shades of blue had coloured her mascara drenched cheeks.
Finally, Fancy sighed and reached his conclusion to this conundrum, releasing her.
Rarity lurched back and hacked for breath, coughing up the vile combination of fluids which had collected within her mouth. It was not a pretty sight to behold, but ugliness was a speciality of Fancy Pants. He was a stallion who could take the most beautiful of mares and turn them into utter cum rags within a matter of moments.
She continued to desperately catch her breath, trying to sate the fire in her lungs. It took a moment but eventually she calmed and the smolder was snuffed out. This gave her time to really appreciate what this one act had done to her. Her mascara had started to run, her lipstick was likely smeared, one of her artificial eyelashes was missing, and there was all manner of crude smelling and putrid substances around the lips.
Fancy smirked and touched a hoof to her cheek. “You look beautiful, my love.”
Shockingly, he dipped forwards and kissed her. Or as much of a kiss as the ring gag would allow. What the ring gag did allow, however, was for him to cram his tongue into her mouth, shoving it as deep as he could.
They lingered like that for a moment but Fancy eventually drew away, wiping at his lips with a hoof.
“Are you good to continue, dear?” Fancy asked.
Rarity drew in a steady breath and nodded to him. Then promptly she returned to her character and lunged at him with a feral fury.
Fancy’s horn sparked and he grabbed her chains, using them to hold her at bay. Still she thrashed at him, like a wild beast.
He gave her a slap across the face. It was half hearted, more for humiliation than actual impact. “Really, is that the way you’re going to treat me?” He sighed and shook his head. “Suddenly unconsciousness seems like such a better proposition.”
Fancy drew away from the sofa, letting go of Rarity’s chains as he departed.
She watched him head back to his tray of tools.
He drew forth a riding crop from under the napkin, using his magic to test the flex of it, though it was obviously more of a display to let Rarity know the quality of the tool going to be used against her. As he toyed with it, he looked at her once again, bearing his playful little playboy smile. If she didn’t know any better, he seemed more apt to seduce her than abuse her.
“I am going to make you regret that, Rarity,” he teased, taking a step towards her. “I know that I promised my company that I’d keep you in one piece, but I find it rather difficult to adhere to those guidelines.”
Company?
Before Rarity could lament that statement, he rested the leather tip of the crop against her flank, rubbing her cutie mark with the coarse material.
“I’d ask you to count, but I don’t trust that lovely little mouth of yours,” Fancy commented, pouting out his lower lip. “I’m more likely to get a string of rude insults than a coherent line of numbers. Alas, it does provide an opportunity of its own, I suppose.”
His horn emboldened and soon a second aura formed around Rarity’s throat.
“Deep breath now,” Fancy instructed.
Rarity took his suggestion, drawing in the deepest breath she could muster. This proved to be a wise decision as Fancy’s magic pressed down upon her carotid arteries. It wasn’t long before the creeping high of asphyxiation had its way with her, muddling her thoughts into a miasma of pleasured highs and animalistic urges.
“You know, this oddly reminds me of a gala that you attended a while ago,” Fancy said.
He lashed out with the crop, clapping it against her backside. The impact was sharp, the pain ebbing deep into her tender rump.
He nodded, not allowing his gaze to fall away from her face. “You wore this lovely sapphire gown. Fleur absolutely adored it. She said something along the lines of blue being your colour.” His lips curled back into a sinister smile. “And you know what? I honestly have to agree with her.” He gently caressed her asphyxiated complexion. “Blue really does look good on you.”
The crop clapped against her again, though the bite of it was muted compared to euphoria of breathlessness. Rarity’s mind was muddled. What little sentience she could cling to was focused utterly on Fancy Pants.
“You know, I once met a stallion who invented such a sinister little spell,” Fancy whispered.
He released Rarity’s throat and she immediately started to wolf down breath after breath. Her efforts were only momentarily interrupted as he landed another potent blow. With her lungs filled, Rarity could surrender a pathetic and pained yelp. It sounded like a dog getting kicked.
Three lashes and already her flank felt like it was on fire.
Fancy smirked and clapped the crop against her twice more, each blow drawing forth such a wonderful gasp. “A magical little breathplay ward. Absolutely invisible to the naked eye and can only be controlled by the original caster.” His spell clenched her arteries again, without warning. “And what it does is set a rhythm, flicking between allowing a pony to breathe and leaving them to suffocate. When he showed it to me, he allowed his slave thirty seconds of breath, then a minute of breathlessness. A neat little demonstration that went on for about half an hour. Oh, if only you could’ve been there to witness it…” He sighed. “The poor dear really began to panic after the fifth minute. Then begged with such sincerity after the seventh…”
Rarity tried her best to pay attention to the story but her mind only grew more muddled, her thoughts fading into a hazy mess. All she knew were the twin heats affecting her. One within her lungs and the other between her legs.
“Maybe I’ll invest in getting my own copy of the spell,” Fancy said. “Train you to cherish air. Imagine that, being so utterly at my mercy that even breathing feels like a gift.” He chuckled and nipped at her ear. His lips were so close that she could feel their warmth. “How little could I get away with and still keep you functional? Ten seconds every minute…” he shook his head, “every two?”
Rarity whimpered, feeling a legitimate shiver of fear crawl up her spine. Would Fancy truly do something that evil to her?
“I don’t say this as idle speculation, mind you,” Fancy continued. “I just want you to know how I view my property.” He huffed. “If you were obedient and eager then I can promise that you’ll be the centrepiece of my collection. Like a fine wine or a gorgeous sculpture. But if you prove troublesome then I’ll find other things to amuse myself with. Your suffering chief amongst them.”
He clapped the crop against her flank and slowly moved it over, placing it right above her engorged flower. Rarity tensed, gritting her teeth and awaiting that fateful impact.
“I enjoy hurting ponies, dear,” Fancy said, “especially ponies who deserve it.”
He cooed to himself, drawing the crop away from her lips and cracking it down roughly.
Rarity would’ve gasped if she were given the breath to do so. She would’ve screamed if she could get a wisp of exhale past Fancy’s iron tight spell. Instead all she did was flinch away from the blow and let out a muted note of despair. The impact was potent, agonizing, sending a sharp bolt right into her tenderized cunt.
Finally, Fancy’s spell abated, once more returning breath to her. She panted and, once abled, started to whimper. The two sounds fused into some miserable collage. Her world was frantic, hurried, her vision swimming and pulse thundering.
And all the while, she couldn’t help but notice the stain she’d left upon the leather upholstery of the sofa.
It would seem that Fancy couldn’t help but notice it himself. He let out a low rumble of laughter, touching a hoof to the wet spot.
Rarity’s complexion burned as she watched him.
He collected a generous sample upon his hoof and tasted it for himself.
“You really are a fucked up little whore, aren’t you?” he teased. “Are you seriously getting off to this?”
He reached forth and unclasped her ring gag, pulling it out of her mouth.
Rarity sighed in relief as she could finally close her mouth again, working through the stiffness lingering in her jaw. She made sure to coldly glare at Fancy and let out quite the furious huff.
He hardly seemed to mind. “Just watch your tongue, harlot. And remember that nasty little spell that I told you about.”
Rarity kept her heated reaction merely to a glare, deciding that she didn’t want to discover how little air a pony could go with.
Fancy motioned to the wet spot and tilted his muzzle towards her. “Clean up your mess.”
“Bring me a cloth,” Rarity snapped.
Fancy snorted, shaking his head. “Why sully good linens when you have a perfectly capable tongue to work with, dear?”
Rarity sighed and looked to the wet spot again. She decided that obedience would be a sufficient strategy for now. So, she lapped away at the stain she’d left behind.
Her essence had such a potent flavour. She couldn’t say that it was particularly great, but she also didn’t have the same affinity for it as Fancy or Fleur. To them, it was a nectar meant to be enjoyed; for her, it was merely a by-product of a night that was currently going great.
She glanced at Fancy and saw that his pride was still exposed. It pulsed with a potent masculine energy, just begging for Rarity to sate it.
Well if it was begging for it…
She smirked and flagged her tail to the side, wiggling her hips back and forth until she was sure that he noticed.
He nickered in approval and returned to the sofa, getting up right behind her.
“I think it’s about time that I treated myself,” Fancy commented.
Rarity growled. “Don’t you dare.”
“Ah, ah, ah, what did I say about speaking when you have nothing beneficial to contribute to the conversation?” Fancy warned.
He mounted her, placing a foreleg on either side of her body. His pride rested between her flanks and he idly rocked his hips back and forth, panting as he slowly built up some form of tempo and rhythm.
Rarity shivered as she felt his pride linger above her. She couldn’t wait until it was buried inside. It really was such a fine cock, as if Celestia herself had decided to gift Rarity with it this fine evening.
After getting a little bit riled up, he drew his hips back, prodding at her folds with the tip. He didn’t quite part them, merely letting her know that he could at a moment’s notice. Slowly, he dragged it between her folds and toyed with her. His pride gliding up and down with no promise of penetration, just allowing its mere presence to antagonize Rarity.
The anticipation started to bleed into frustration as the seconds were dragged out with such irritating efficiency.
“Beg for it,” Fancy whispered.
Rarity snorted in absolute disgust. “Beg for you to rape me?”
“Mmm no, but for fucking you instead of torturing you.” He smirked. “I really am a merciful stallion if you get in my good graces.”
Rarity grunted. “Go fuck yourself.”
Fancy scoffed, sounding more peeved than actually offended. He lightly smacked her bottom, tutting to himself as he did so. “I suppose I’ll have to coerce a more agreeable attitude out of you. Now won’t I?”
“Best of luck with…”
Rarity wasn’t allowed to finish that statement as Fancy drew forth a rather practical looking knife, holding it right in front of her. The blade gleamed in the lighting of the panic room. He brought it over carefully, holding the sharpened edge right against her throat.
Fuck.
“Do you think it’ll cut you while I’m bucking into you?” he asked.
The blade tickled at her coat, mere atoms away from nicking her tender flesh. He ever so carefully brought it upwards, resting the pointed tip against the underside of her snout.
“Anymore witty comment?” he asked.
Rarity kept her mouth shut as even the movement from talking would result in the blade cutting her.
“No?” Fancy asked.
He poked the blade into her skin, gently breaking flesh though not pressing any deeper.
Rarity hissed, feeling her blood trickle forth and tarnish the blade.
“Please, dear, I was so thrilled hearing you talk back to me,” Fancy teased. “Are you really going to play mum now that there’s a little accessory thrown into the mix?”
He drew the blade away quickly, holding it right in front of Rarity once again. Now there was a slight trickle of red upon the tip, a bead of her precious blood which rolled along the steel.
“I am not fond of bringing you pain, Rarity,” Fancy whispered, hovering just above her ear. “But I am not fond of making a bad investment even more. I’ve spent quite a lot of capital on you and I expect to have a quality product in the end.”
He bucked his hips forward and Rarity gasped.
His erection pressed beyond her lower lips with such ease and moved deeper smoothly. It was helped along by the abundant sheets of arousal which had oozed forth from her pussy. What was it about fear and intimidation that worked on her? The two sensations were like an aphrodisiac that refused to wane.
Fancy grunted again and again. Each note was paired with the violent rocking of his hips. He pressed deeper into her with every stride, showing no hint of stopping with his aggressive pace. He allowed Rarity to feel every inch of his impressive pride as he ravished her with it.
All the while, the blade hovered there. It was far enough away that there was no chance she’d be cut but close enough that the threat was a constant and nagging reminder.
“Fuck you feel divine,” Fancy said, his voice husky as he practically breathed the words into her ear. “If nothing else I’ll at least enjoy your holes.”
Rarity closed her eyes, blushing as she felt a little moan of her own fly free. It felt like such a shameful surrender, conceding this point of pleasure to the stallion who showed no remorse.
Faster and faster Fancy continued to go, not slowing in the slightest. This was not love making, this was hardly even sex. This was an exchange, a transaction. He would use her like a sleeve and relieve his stress before moving on. There was no concession to account for her pleasure, no conscious effort to please her.
Yet, in some weird and perverted juxtaposition, that made it all the more pleasurable. Fancy could act like such a heartless brute and to Rarity’s fucked up little mind there was no finer stallion to bed.
Fancy rested a hoof against the top of her head, pinning her snout into the sofa’s cushion.
By now he was pounding into her with no hindrance, ravishing her with such unrelenting and cold efficiency. He grunted and snarled, growling as he jackhammered into her poor little hole.
“Fuck,” he grunted, huffing as his hips clapped against her again.
The scent of sex was heavy in the air. His cologne mixed with the smells of metal shackles and their collective sweat, creating such an odd, yet enticing, perfume.
“Celestia!” he cursed as he finally hilted within her.
Rarity let out a nicker of disappointment. Surely, he could not be done so soon.
His orgasm confirmed her worst fears as his seed filled her tight hole without further warning. It was warm, toxic, alluring, and vile all at once.
He lingered upon her for a moment, panting for breath and staying deep within. As she looked up, she saw that there was a dopey little smile upon his snout.
“Why you absolutely vile…” Rarity began.
“Shush now.” Fancy sighed. “Just let me enjoy this, you freaky little mare.”
He removed the knife from the equation, placing it down upon the coffee table.
Rarity rolled her eyes. “You know there used to be a time when you showed dedication to this roleplay.”
“Blame my post nut clarity,” he grunted.
He drew back and his cock departed with a loud belch of fluids.
Rarity felt his seed drain along her inner thighs in a torrent. She whinnied as she suddenly felt so empty without his erection or seed for company. Her hindlegs quaked and her cunt felt so tender after the bucking he had delivered.
He patted her on side and drew away, moving towards the panic room’s mini-fridge. “It would seem like I made the right move. Seeing that look of humiliation on your face was well worth the cost of keeping you conscious.”
Rarity watched as he drew forth a bottle of water, cracking it open and downing half of it. He then levitated the other half over to Rarity.
She looked at it and then glared at him.
“It’s just water, you shrew,” he murmured. “Best to stay hydrated for what I have in store for you.”
Rarity sighed. “Very well.”
Fancy pressed the bottle to her lips and she drank from it, washing away the lingering vestiges of his flavour from her mouth. Once the bottle was finished, he tossed it into the trash.
At that moment, a red light blinked upon a switchboard next to the panic room’s door.
“Oh, our guests are ready,” Fancy said.
Rarity cocked a brow. “Guests?”
“I may have told a few business partners about my latest acquisition and well…” He rolled his hoof. “They offered me a fair payment to use you.”
Rarity gasped. “I’m not a whore.”
“You’re not, you’re a slave whom I’m simply whoring out. A whore in theory has the freedom to ply her trade. You, on the other hoof…” He grabbed her chain and yanked upon it. “Do not have that same luxury.”
Rarity stumbled to her hooves, groaning as weight once more returned to her limbs. Fancy really had given her quite the bucking.
Still, as he tugged upon her lead, she stumbled along, making her way towards him and the panic room’s exit.
“You’re a vile stallion,” Rarity hissed.
Fancy smirked. “I am a lot of things, dear. Vile is just one of them.”
Together, they made their way into the townhouse’s halls. Now, without the panic room’s padding, Rarity could hear the mingling of other ponies in the distance. The gathering didn’t seem particularly large, less than a dozen souls for sure.
She blushed and stumbled along. Her mind couldn’t help but fantasize about what was about to happen. Surely, Fancy would only call upon trusted stock for such an event. Ponies who knew a thing or two about using a mare. Hopefully, with a promise of discretion.
“Do try and look a little reluctant,” Fancy teased.
Rarity blushed. “What do you mean?”
“You look like an adorable little puppy whose owner is holding a tennis ball,” Fancy said, flashing her a knowing smile. “And to think you chided me for my performance in this roleplay.”
“Bite me,” Rarity retorted, narrowing her gaze.
Fancy smiled fondly. “Much better.”
He held his head up high, looking quite proud of himself as they approached the lounge where she’d been shackled. Rarity for her part ensured that her gaze was cast towards the floor, looking like the dejected and defeated whore she was meant to play.
“Sorry for the delay, friends,” Fancy said as he stepped inside. “I was just ensuring that I provided you all with a quality product this evening.”
Rarity glanced up, her heart hammering as she saw who was in attendance.
Everypony wore a masquerade mask, though it offered very little projection to their actual identities.
There were about eight ponies in total, each of them she knew from galas and amongst her time within Fancy’s social circles. All of them were clients and ponies she had fooled around with in the past. Thankfully, she could vouch for the discretion of every single one of them.
The most familiar, of the lot, was Fleur De Lis. Fancy’s partner flashed her a cheeky smile and blew a playful little kiss in her direction. Rarity surrendered a faint smile and winked back at her fellow pervert before casting her gaze towards the centrepiece of tonight’s affair.
It was a stock, like the kind used in punishments from a more barbaric time. It was placed upon a short platform that was raised slightly compared to the rest of the room. There were a set of stairs on either side, allowing a prospective patron to have access to whichever end of her they would’ve liked.
Fancy led her towards it, bringing out a pair of keys.
“Please be a dear and don’t fight this,” he said. “These ponies have given me a fair amount of money to indulge in you.”
Rarity huffed and shot him a fiery glare. “I’ll do as I see fit, you uncouth lowborn ruffian.”
This earned her a few cheers from the audience, while garnering Fancy Pants his own fair share of jeers. His newfound frown was not very reassuring to Rarity.
He looked at her and scoffed in absolute disdain. “I’d slap you for that but I wouldn’t want to sully my fetlock.”
And just like that the energy of the audience shifted, landing squarely in his favour. Rarity burned as insults were hurled at her. Yet, there was something so taboo and enticing about business partners suddenly calling her a ‘whore’, ‘slut’, and ‘slave’. it was enough to send a fresh pulse of warmth towards her nethers, her lower lips winking in eager anticipation.
Fancy unlocked her shackles. The heavy chains clanged to the floor. Rarity thought about putting up some token resistance but instead she held her head up high and ascended the steps upon her own free will.
She looked out upon the crowd of ponies, feeling a little bit like Lady Marediva as she was cast out by her wicked husband. Though any thoughts of nobility and honour were quickly whisked away as Fancy ascended behind her.
He stood beside the stocks, motioning for Rarity to get into position.
She played along, throwing her forelegs and neck through the opened stock. Her gaze remained defiant as she studied the room.
Fancy smirked and gently stroked her mane as he closed the heavy wooden fixture above her neck. Then he levitated a hefty looking padlock in front of her, allowing her to see the archaic design. Rarity had a thing for the old fashion, especially when it came to torturing and debasing her. So, this worked wonders in making her heart flutter.
Finally, the lock snapped closed, pinning the stocks in place. Rarity fidgeted and attempted to draw back but the firm construct of the fixture held her tightly in place.
Fancy looked out upon the crowd, like a conquering villain. “Now, I would beseech you to take you time, considering she’ll be here all evening. Though, I can tell that a few of you are already quite riled up and just dying for an opportunity. So, with that in mind, please be civil with one another and do try to keep my darling slave in one piece. I usually like to get a couple of weeks out of them before they break.”
A few of the ponies cheered at the idea and Fancy continued to look so smug and pompous.
“So, enjoy the food, enjoy the drinks – in moderation mind you, but most importantly, please ensure that Rarity here does not enjoy her evening.”
With that he stepped off of the little stage and made his way over to Fleur. He kissed her on the cheek and whispered something to her. She handed him a mask which he put on.
For a moment, the room continued at a murmur as if this were just any other high society soiree. Then a stallion said something to his husband. The husband nodded his response, so this stallion walked towards the elevated stage. Sadly, he went for her rear so he quickly dodged out of sight.
He had a minty green coat and was a unicorn that Rarity knew was fond of gold trim in his designs. A little gaudy in her opinion but gold trim really did enhance the economic value of any article of clothing.
She’d also done a few BDSM scenes with him in the past. Not quite Fancy Pants, but there were worse ponies to spend an evening with.
Soon he was right behind her. Rarity felt the stocks shudder as he braced his forelegs against them. She glanced up and saw the little smile upon his snout.
“Rarity,” he said.
Rarity smirked. “Emerald Grove.”
“Why do we always seem to meet like this?”
Rarity snorted. “Well I do like to mix business with pleasure whenever I come to Canterlot.”
“Fair enough.”
He grunted and soon Rarity felt his pride against her lower lips. The unflared tip licked at her so recently used cunt.
“Do you mind if…” he began.
Rarity smirked. “I believe I’m a slave and the concept of consent doesn’t really apply to me, darling.”
“Well if that’s the case…”
Emerald bucked forwards and pressed firmly into Rarity without warning. His cock pressed smoothly inside, aided by the already abundant slickness which tarnished her lower half.
She gasped, letting out a whinny of both pleasure and surprise.
His cock felt absolutely splendid. Oh, for sure, he was still not of Fancy Pants’ calibre, but he proved to be a very effective palate cleanser. He was like a bowl of sorbet between courses, something to carry her over from one delectable main course to the next.
Rarity nickered softly and used the stocks for support. Her voice remained strong as she started to moan, sounding like quite the whore for her audience.
She flushed with shame as she looked out upon the room and saw the ponies gawking at her. They may have pretended to ignore her, but it was so obvious that she was the centre of everypony’s attention. The mare getting railed in the middle of the room was a rather hard thing to ignore, after all.
Did any of them think she’d end up in a position like this, after their first meeting? Did any of these petite nobles think they would be bedding their dressmaker one day in such a crude fashion?
This was the stuff of cheap dime novel erotica, not a product of actual reality. Yet, here she was, proudly on display for them to use and abuse as they saw fit.
Emerald grunted and groaned, refusing to let up as he hammered away with an animalistic desire to get off. As an earth pony he had quite the endurance, barely even winded as he ravished her with such brutal efficiency.
Between her moans and the crude slurps of Emerald’s fucking, there was quite the orchestral performance on offer for the guests. It may not have been the symphony, but it had its own unique charm that the ponies seemed to enjoy.
Another pony lumbered away from the crowd, making his way towards the stairs before Rarity.
He was a red coated pegasus with a bright orange mane. Rarity seemed to recall that he was a Wonderbolt.
The connection to such a close friend made the taboo all the more tantalizing. Would this become a topic of conversation in the Wonderbolts’ locker rooms? Would Rainbow overhear it and put two and two together?
It was enough to send another shiver coursing through her body.
His name was upon the tip of her tongue. She wanted to say Fire… something?
Fire Comet?
Fire Tail?
Fire…
“Hey Fire Streak,” Emerald greeted, huffing as he bottomed out in Rarity once again. “Decided to enjoy the party favour?”
The force of his thrust was enough to knock a note of euphoric pleasure from Rarity’s tongue as she offered this new stallion a shaky smile.
Fire Streak chuckled and patted Rarity on the cheek. “Well I couldn’t help myself. Fancy has a pretty good eye for this kind of thing. Doubt you’ll find better pussy in Canterlot.”
High praise coming from a Wonderbolt.
Emerald snorted. “Deep pockets will do that.”
“Eh I’d say it’s more his charm, but I’ve always thought the best of ponies.” Fire looked down at her and smirked. “Promise not to bite my dick off?”
Rarity grinned, trying her best to look a little unhinged. “Where would be the fun in telling you if I will or if I won’t?”
Fire cocked a brow and made a show of shaking his head. He then clambered up upon the stocks, pressing his forelegs down upon it.
Rarity was impressed that the stocks could bear the weight of three ponies but Fancy had never been one to skimp of craftsmanship.
Fire’s unflared tip hovered just before Rarity’s snout. She drew in a breath and licked her lips in eager anticipation. He had a nice smell to him, masculine but overpoweringly so. Most importantly he was clean and even had the added benefit of using a lovely jasmine shampoo that accented his coat nicely.
“Ready?” he asked.
Rarity rolled her eyes. “Is every pony going to break character this evening?”
“Roleplay really isn’t my thing?” Fire commented, likely bearing a sheepish grin. “But…”
Before Rarity could respond, he pressed forwards, pushing his cock against her lips. She obliged him, of course, and opened her mouth to allow him to slip inside.
He tasted as divine as she hoped. There were lingering accents of masculinity which worked so well with the slight tinge of saltiness that came with his pre. If Emerald was the palate cleanser, then this was very likely her next course.
Her moans were muffled by the cock in her mouth but they continued to come forth in airy bursts as Emerald kept pounding away at her pussy with reckless abandon.
Fire bucked forwards slowly, on his front, being quite the gentlestallion by not rushing things. He actually appeared to be restrained with his performance, using only the forefront of his erection and not daring to press beyond the medial ring.
It was a nice juxtaposition. The brutality of Emerald and the chivalry of Fire Streak. Yin and yang, and all of that.
Yet, even a chivalrous stallion was still a stallion. She heard Fire huff through his nostril and felt the quickening of his pulse through the dick upon her tongue. Slowly, he began to grow a bit more animalistic, succumbing to the vice which had claimed Emerald.
Rarity dutifully circled her tongue around Fire’s erection, lapping away at his flesh.
The poor dear got a little overzealous and pushed beyond the medial ring, accidentally probing at the back of her throat. As she was unprepared for such things, a tiny gag dribbled forth, vibrating against the tip of his erection.
Fire immediately halted. “Are you…”
“She’s a whore, Fire,” Emerald chastised. “She’s used to a little bit of gagging. Bitch should be thankful that she gets to suck off a stallion who actually bathes for once.”
Rarity paused, wondering what Fire was going to do. He seemed frozen, almost crippled with indecision.
Then finally…
“Fuck it,” Fire murmured.
He thrusted forcefully into her mouth, bucking his hips forwards and prodding at the back of her throat with his unflared pride. His pace was initially clumsy and brutish but after his first few motions, he began to adapt to a rhythm, a tempo which started to shine.
Fire rested a hoof upon the back of her head, holding her steady. Though this seemed largely pointless as the stocks already did a fair job of this.
“There you go, buddy,” Emerald teased. “Doesn’t that feel better?”
Emerald also hadn’t slacked during this encounter. His hips pumped into her again and again, his cock hammering away at her inflamed lower lips with complete and utter reckless abandon. His breathing was ragged and laboured, coming out in terse puffs that reminded Rarity of a stallion who was at the end of a marathon.
Not that she could really focus on such things as Fire used her like a fleshlight, violating her mouth with such disregard for her wellbeing. This was just the way Rarity liked her stallions, self-centred and focused utterly upon their own pleasure. It was degrading, debasing, humiliating, and so utterly pleasurable to her messed up little mind.
She felt her lower lips flex against Emerald’s cock at the same time that a nucleus of asphyxiation tingled within her lungs. It would appear that it was quite hard to breathe when a stallion was doing his best to impregnate her windpipe.
Rarity closed her eyes and went limp, letting the two stallions take complete control of the situation.
Faster and faster they grew, more and more animalistic they became. They were like a pair of teenagers who had just learned the art of masturbation and were too eager to spend themselves as swiftly as possible.
She gaggled and sputtered, feeling tears prickle within her eyes and drain along her cheeks, further fouling her complexion with more streaks of whorish black.
“Fuck,” Fire grunted. “I don’t think I can keep this going much longer.”
Emerald snorted. “I mean, Wonderbolts always have a reputation for being fast.”
“S-shut up, Emerald,” Fire hissed.
He hilted in Rarity’s mouth, pinning her lips against his pelvis. Her throat was crammed full of his erection. She could feel it twitch and shudder as his orgasm came forth with such lustful and unrestrained vigour.
Rarity drank what she could. What she couldn’t came back up, sputtering forth in a crude and vile layer of creampie around her lips. Though worse was yet to come. A few strands burned as they came up through her nose. They rocketed out, with such force, and added to the utterly filthy display of makeup, tears, and other bodily fluids that had been worked on over the course of the evening.
Emerald allowed himself a few more thrusts, which pushed the pair towards the edge. She could feel him getting close as his pace started to tarry, and surely, he could feel the shivers and shakes of her own ecstasy.
She hadn’t been too aware of her impending pleasure, distracted by the spitroasting that was taking place. Yet, as it approached, it took centre stage as she balanced upon the precipice of utter euphoria.
Emerald drove himself onwards. His pace had lost all rhythm and his tempo had grown sporadic and uncontrolled. Still it proved to be enough, pairing well with the creeping asphyxiation, to tip her over the edge.
As she came, her walls clamped around his pride, squeezing it tightly in her embrace. Within this vice, he only managed one final thrust, plowing all the way into the hilt with such force. Their hips clapped together loudly and his voice barked out.
Her orgasm gushed with vigour, mingling with his own as he shot string after string of his potent spunk deep into her tight little hole. His cum was so rich and abundant. It filled her to brim and then drizzled out, adding a second creampie to her already filthy form.
Alas, even his generous dosage had to come to an end, eventually, as he let out one final grunt.
The two stallions lingered for but a moment. Then, reluctantly, they drew back, pulling out of Rarity with a pair of wet and erotic sounding pops. She could feel their seed belch forth, spreading such crude fluids along her lips and down her hindlegs.
She opened her eyes and saw Fire depart. Her ears perked up as she heard Emerald doing the same.
Fancy was at the base of the stage, smiling at her. He seemed amused as he took a sip of brandy.
“How are you feeling, dear?” he asked.
Rarity coughed up a little more cum, groaning in response.
Oh, how she wished she had a foreleg free so she could wipe away the strands of vile fluid that tarnished her lips.
Thankfully, Fancy did show a hint of kindness as he levitated over a handkerchief and wiped away the mess on her behalf.
“Thank you, darling,” Rarity wheezed.
Fancy nodded. “Any time.” He took another sip of his drink. “But please answer my question. How are you feeling?”
“Well fuck, well used, and in a desperate need of a shower,” she replied, offering a weak smile.
Fancy looked around the room. “Think you can handle a few more ponies?”
Rarity looked out upon all those eager faces and then back at Fancy. “That depends.”
“On what?” he asked.
“Will they be content only having two rounds with me?” She chuckled. “I doubt I can handle all of them three times each.”
Fancy snorted and looked out upon the crowd. “I daresay some of them may even want to indulge in you a fourth time.”
“Well in that case…” Rarity winked at him. “How about we show them why I’m the Element of Generosity?”