> Comeuppance
>  by Some Leech
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> Chapter 1
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Sweat beaded Fenris’ brow, a dark miasma clouded his vision, and the air burned his throat, yet his eyes never left the page. “...trabea.”

No sooner had the final word of the incantation left his lips than a blinding flash of light filled the room, robbing him of his vision and forcing him to stumble back. It was almost a guaranteed certainty that dabbling with the dark arts came with risks - then again, he’d learned that great gains often came with great danger. Forcing himself to stand steady, crushing the impulse to panic, he held still and waited for his eyesight to return.

As his room came into view, a smug, fang-filled grin split his muzzle. He’d been nearly certain that the enchantment wouldn’t have been all that hazardous - after all, it was merely meant to enhance one’s physique. While there’d been no need to improve his physical prowess, already augmented by the timberwolf enchantment he’d long since imbued into his very bones, there was no such thing as being too imposing.

With his vision all but returned, he lowered his gaze and lifted a foreleg. The limb appeared as normal as ever, with his lavender coat terminating at the gnarled, wood-like carapace of his claw. As he carefully scrutinized the appendage, his brow furrowed. A cold feeling settled in his gut, realizing what was amiss. Looking around himself, noticing that some sense of offness pervaded his surroundings, he finally comprehended what was wrong; he wasn’t larger by any means - if anything, he was somewhat smaller.

Cantering from his study and through his room, with the click-clack of his clawed hooves accompanying him, he made his way into the restroom, turned to face the standing mirror beside his tub, and went rigid. Instead of the tall, athletically built, wolf-like pegasus who he’d come to love, a short, curvy, decidedly effeminate creature stared at him from his reflection. The revelation was disquieting to a fault, causing his lip to curl over a markedly less prominent set of canines.

Wheeling around and trotting back to his chamber, he gathered up the grimoire he’d been studying and poured over the text. One of the larger challenges of practicing forbidden sorcery was that, sadly, a great many of the times the text was cryptic at best or, at worst, nigh incomprehensible. Reading and rereading the final passage, knowing he must have missed something, his mood darkened.

The dead language of the Caprae, the very race which spawned Grogar, had a particular way of utilizing grammatical gender. There were perilously few scholars who could read it, let alone speak it, yet he’d done the best he could with deciphering the tome and its secrets - unfortunately for him, his hubris had been his undoing. Mispronouncing a word while speaking could be embarrassing or awkward, although doing so with witchcraft could be downright ruinous.

Restraining his ire, he tossed the therimoire onto his bed and stomped back into his wash room. Unless he’d royally fucked something up, the spell would only last for a number of weeks or, if he was lucky, a few days. Defeated, frustrated, and preemptively dreading what his roommate would say about his debacle, he made his way back to his mirror to fully access the situation.

As he stared at himself, drinking in all his features, he scrunched his snout in disdain. He’d lost his build, his height, and his roguish good looks in the blink of an eye - replaced by a short, soft, svelte parody of his former self. Experimentally wrapping his signature crimson scarf around his neck, trying and failing to shroud his distinctly feminine face, a peculiar tingling sensation in his groin nearly caused his heart to stop.

Steadily spinning around, momentarily compelled to issue a silent prayer to the dark lords below, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. It would have been mortifying enough to be stuck with the body of a lithe, little femcolt, although he knew that was far from the worst fate that could have awaited him. Steeling himself, angling his backside at the mirror, he flagged his bushy tail, peeked over his shoulder, and went rigid.

His ripe, fuzzy, darkly furred balls were simply gone, arcanely removed from his body without a trace - well, not removed, seemingly exchanged for the meaty lower lips of a marehood. Taken aback, he lowered his head, cocked a hind leg, and stared down at his crotch. Any trace of his stallionhood had vanished, as he’d expected and much to his chagrin, although a pair of modest bosoms rested on his lower abdomen.

“Are you fucking ki-” he - no, she blared, immediately muzzling herself with a claw.

The moment she’d heard the shrill, irate voice of a mare - her voice, it finally sank in. Somehow, be it from some cosmic joke or some karmic version of poetic justice, he’d changed himself into a female. Rubbing her temple with a taloned digit, with her thoughts racing and heart pounding in her chest, she tried and failed to think of something - anything she could do to address the less than desirable outcome of her little experiment.

There was a reason why black magic was highly illegal and taboo; aside from Sombra’s use of dark arts to nearly subjugate Equestria and the Crystal Empire, the sheer power of such sorcery was as potent as it could be unpredictable. The smallest miscalculation or breach in procedure was enough to undo or alter an enchantment wildly, yet he’d been fortunate enough to never suffer the consequences of such a blunder - that was, until the current incident. Strumming her digits on the tiled floor, wondering if attempting to reverse engineer the spell would be worth the risk, a sudden beating on the door wrenched her from her thoughts.

“Dude,” Pixel shouted, issuing another hard knock, “are you ok in there? I heard something weird then a bunch of screaming! You didn’t kidnap that Rainbow Dash cosplayer again, did you?”

Fenris opened her mouth to speak, but remained silent. Though she’d only spoken a hoofful of words after her mishap, she’d heard enough to realize she sounded nothing like her usual masculine self. The way she saw it, she could choose one of two options to deal with her friend - regrettably, neither was what she’d consider ideal. Either she could attempt to bullshit the stallion, hoping he’d somehow not notice the transformation, or she could downplay it and act like the entire fiasco was a non-issue. Collecting herself, knowing that delaying the inevitable would be a foolish and fruitless venture, she flung the door open and glowered out at him.

The carnelian maned, golden coated kirin peered down at her in disbelief, blinking repeatedly and going so far as to rub his eyes. He’d known Fenris for years, since they’d been in grade school, yet he couldn’t relax around the guy - if anything, he had to stay on his toes twenty-four seven. While it was true that they were the best of friends, he liked to describe their relationship as endearingly abusive.

“No fucking - Mmmph!” Pixel was silenced, as the pegawolf reached up and jammed a clawed hoof to his lips.

“Before you say anything, this was intentional,” Fenris smoothly lied, squinting up at the stallion.

Brushing his friend’s hoof away, Pixel quirked a brow. “Uh-huh,” he grunted, “or maybe it’s one of those ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em’ moments,” he snickered, slipping a glimpse at the mare’s backside.

Without budging a muscle, dismissing his errant peek at her posterior, she locked eyes with him. “You know, you should consider yourself lucky. I’d briefly considered trying this spell on you, but I’d hate to have my best friend end up begging me for a lay.”

“Pfft - yeah fucking right!” the stallion scoffed, recoiling slightly. Backing away and shifting to the exit, he marched out of the room. “Just keep your weird bullshit down, I don’t want to call the royal guard and explain why you accidentally killed yourself.”

As the kirin moved out of sight, Fenris exhaled. While sorcery was definitely one of her strongest suits, her pride and, as some would say, arrogance made her a master at deception; even if she was outright lying to somepony, her confidence and smug demeanor was often enough to sway others - still, that did little to help her current predicament. With a vexed sigh, she trotted from the restroom, through his chamber, and out into the hallway.

Cursing beneath her breath, she only then began to understand the full depth of the infernal spell. Not only had she become a mare, likely at a genetic level, but her mind had been inexorably altered by the metamorphosis. Mere moments ago, she’d thought of and referred to herself as a he, yet the arcane might had shifted her self perception in an instant. Shaking her head and attempting to gather herself, she reversed course, snatched up the discarded tome, and strolled to the living room.

While it would have been reasonable for her to study in her chamber, especially given the unseemly circumstances, that would have been exceptionally out of character. If Pixel noticed her acting odd, he’d ask questions - if he asked questions, she’d get annoyed - and if she got annoyed, well, she didn’t need a reenactment of their last petty feud.  It wasn’t uncommon for them to prank one another mercilessly, though their little jokes had a nasty way of escalating at an exponential rate; the last time they’d seriously fucked with one another, she’d wound up with a shaved head and her companion ended up getting a badly sprained ankle - needless to say, she knew when to pick her battles with him.

Nonchalantly walking by the seated stallion, wishing for little more than to try and find a remedy for her pitiable state, she flounderingly attempted to hop up onto the sofa. It had been less than ten minutes, yet she was already getting frustrated with just how useless her body was. Ignoring her friend, hoping he hadn’t noticed her awkwardness, she flapped her wings and landed at the far end of the couch.

“So - uh -” the kirin began, “what exactly were you trying to do here?”

“I wasn’t trying to do anything,” she flatly stated, the sound of her girlish voice sounding very alien to her ears. “I wanted to disguise myself as a mare for two reasons; first of all, so I could socialize with them and get some candid insight into how they think and act - secondly, I intend to figure out exactly what weaknesses a mare has.”

As he cocked his head to the side, a silly little smirk crept across Pixel’s muzzle. “So you didn’t do it to go out and get plapped by some big, domineering stud to atone for all your misdeeds - right, I gotcha…”

He knew good and god damn well about Fenris’ penchant for philandering and womanizing, so he wasn’t buying the bullshit excuse for a second. If he had to put his bits on the table, he was betting that his buddy had royally fucked up some harebrained scheme or enchantment - regardless, something wasn’t right. The last thing in the world the pegawolf would do would be to willingly turn himself into a weak little mare, not with the size of his ego. Doing his best to play it cool, he halfheartedly looked down at the comic in his grasp.

“Pixel, it’s not good to project like that,” Fenris darkly chuckled. “Besides, we both know that you’re the one who’s secretly wanted me to bend you over while you call me Daddy.”

Smiling conceitedly to herself, content that she’d fended off her friend’s pitiful attempt to get her goat, she eased herself into the corner, pulled the book into her lap, and paused. As she’d looked away from the stallion’s face, she’d unintentionally looked at his groin. Seated as he was, with one hind leg cocked onto the couch, his sheath and balls were on full display. Though she hadn’t intended to look at his junk, the momentary glimpse was all it took for him to strike yet another blow.

Shifting a forehoof to his groin, Pixel casually fondled his package. “Hey, cutie, you like what you see?”

“Hah!” she guffawed, unseating herself and sauntering away. “Pixel, don’t pretend like you have anything particularly engaging to offer. If memory serves, the last mare you tried that line on tossed her cider in your face.”

Leaving her friend with the harsh statement, she wandered around the corner and into the kitchen. She could and more than likely should have stayed to rib him, but there was a problem; the second she’d laid her eyes upon his equipment, the tingle in her loins returned with a vengeance. Both intrigued and frustrated with bizarre sensation, an ominous notion crept into her mind.

Since she was suddenly a young, healthy mare, there was a very good chance that her newfound biology was altering her personality on some fundamental level. Her subconscious had immediately shifted, recognizing herself as what had been the opposite gender, so it wasn’t the most outlandish notion to think that other aspects of her personality may have been modified. Pursing her lips, hoping to distract herself, she marched to the refrigerator for some refreshment.

If she somehow did find herself attracted to stallions, she’d sequester herself in her room for the duration of the curse she’d unwittingly unleashed upon herself. The last thing in the world she needed was to find herself pining over big, hunky studs, particularly irksome ones like her roommate. There was no way in Tartarus Pixel would ever let her live something so ignominious down, and she’d rather not have to hide a body anytime soon. As she opened the fridge and inspected its content, stewing on how best to deal with the unexpected development, she was woefully ignorant to a series of silent hooffalls creeping up behind her.

Pixel would like to say he knew his friend better than anypony, so he could practically smell when something was wrong. The guy almost never backed down, and the whole intentional transformation excuse sounded like a bunch of bullshit, which led him to believe there’d been a massive fuckup with one of his sorcerous experiments. Peeking into the kitchen, he furtively watched the mare from the doorway.

Supposed explanation notwithstanding, he had to say that his buddy had become much, much easier on the eyes. The little pegawolf had become significantly shorter than him, had lost most if all of his muscle tone, and had filled out exceptionally well. Bearing a fine rump and a very respectable set of birthing hips, along with thighs that had just the right amount of chub, she wasn’t half-bad looking - in fact, he’d be lying if he said she wasn’t pretty hot.

Smiling to himself, unable to control his urge to screw with her, he crept up on her from behind. It really wasn’t his fault for wanting to give her a hard time, not after all the shit she’d done to him in the past. Thinking back to one particularly egregious incident, where Fenris had hexed his ex, shattered her mind, and fucked her on his bed, he had perilously few reservations about giving the bastard some shit. Coming up directly behind her, he stepped over her waist, pressed his chest to her back, and rested his chin squarely on her shoulder.

“Come on, Baby,” he purred, softly necking her, “you can be honest with good ‘ol Pixel.”

The sudden sensation of heat and weight bearing upon her was almost as startling as the sensual whisper in her ear, taking Fenris completely off guard. She’d known her roommate was the cheeky sort, often the type to tease or mock her, but this - this crossed a line. His brazenness, paired with her already less than stellar mood, brought a sneer to her lips. If he thought he could get away with something so audacious, he was about to get a very harsh lesson.

“Ligate eum,” she barked, her voice resonating through the home.

While she may not have had any natural ability to evoke the arcane, she’d crafted or procured a number of artifacts to make up the difference. It only took a moment before her call was answered. With a choked gag, the stallion atop her was unceremoniously wrenched back and cast to the floor beneath them.

“Honestly, did you really think that was a good idea?” she tutted, languidly turning to face the then restrained kirin. 

Laying on his back, with her trusty ensorcelled scarf bound around his neck and hooves, his panic-streaked eyes peered up at her. The unassuming accessory was quite possibly her magnum opus, allowing her to use sorcery with all the proficiency of a unicorn - that said, it needed to be within earshot of her arcane commands. Peering down at the supine, squirming stallion, she snickered to herself.

Looking him over, relishing the fear in his eyes, she inspected his groin and sneered. “Listen closely,” she began, stepping closer and pressing her hoof to his sheath, “if you ever bring that pathetic thing anywhere close to me again, I’ll be sure that you never use it again ~ understood?” Nodding slowly, with the tip of his stallionhood peeking from its confines, his eyes never left hers. “Good. Dimittis!”

As quickly as the piece of apparel had attacked, it released the kirin, sailed to her, and loosely coiled around her neck. Maybe attempting to downplay her metamorphic mishap hadn’t been the best idea, though she didn’t regret attempting to act like it was a minor inconvenience. Without saying another word, content that she’d thoroughly hammered the point home, she departed and left the dumbstruck stallion where he lay.

Tempted though she had been to lord her superiority over him, possibly forcing him to apologize or kiss her hoof, making her leave seemed to be the most prudent course of action - not because anything was wrong, but because the odd feeling in her nethers had developed into a dull ache that permeated into her abdomen. With her body apparently acting of its own accord, a circumstance she was not at all used to, she decided that it may be best to thoroughly explore herself in the privacy and security of her chamber.

Tracking her with his eyes, while she traipsed away, Pixel noticed something that overshadowed the impromptu hog-tying he’d just been subjected to. Though he’d only got the barest peek of it, he’d noticed her snatch; in and of itself, the glimpse wouldn’t have been that odd, barring the fact that she’d been a stallion earlier that morning, yet the damp, rosy lips piqued his interest. He’d been around enough mares to know when they were getting excited and, if his eyes hadn’t deceived him, Fenris was just that.

Waiting until he heard the door to her room slam shut, he pushed himself up, went back to the couch, and digested what had just happened. To say having his best friend turn into a chick was weird would be an understatement, but having her get worked up by simple teasing would be downright unprecedented. Fenris is, was, and he assumed always would be a bit of a casanova, never once having displayed an interest in guys, yet that may have changed along with his - no her sex.

Stewing on the subject, he came to a single conclusion - he’d need more data. If his buddy really had been turned on by him - sweet, merciful Celestia, the possibilities for mischief would be endless. While he wasn’t sure how far things could or would go, should his theory prove true, he definitely wouldn’t mind giving his friend a taste of his own medicine - that and he’d always had a soft spot for flirting with cute mares anyways. Calling upon his magic, casting an invisibility spell on himself, he slipped from the couch and sneaked down the hallway.

Foolish and impetuous as it may have been, he hastily concocted a plan that was simply too good to sit on. With Fenris being smaller and almost assuredly weaker than himself, he should be able to overpower his friend with relative ease - the only problem was his buddy’s blasted scarf. The garment wasn’t all that powerful in and of itself, having strength comparable to a pony, but its ability to let the pegawolf utilize magic was its most threatening trait.

Surreptitiously approaching Fenris’ room, seeing the door had been left slightly ajar, he issued a silent thanks to the stars. No matter how things played out, he would need to address the cursed artifact before he could do anything to his roommate. Moving at a snail’s pace, taking care not to make a noise, he lingered outside the chamber and listened for any signs of life.

“Stupid bastard,” Fenris grumbled, crawling onto her bed and rolling to her back.

Having sat her trusty scarf on her dresser by the door, she was determined to figure out what was going on with herself. All her studies and experiences with various females had given her plenty of insight into their anatomy and, to a lesser extent, psychology, yet that paled in comparison to actually experiencing what they did on a day to day basis. Pulling two pillows under her head, positioning herself nearly in the center of her mattress, she spread her legs and gazed at her nethers.

While she couldn’t get the best look at her loins, being without a hoof mirror, what she saw sent a nervous shiver up her spine. Her nipples were fully erect, her marehood was engorged, and a bead of nectar clung to her inner thigh, leaving little room for doubt. The signs and symptoms were all there, affirming her fears; like it or not, she’d somehow gotten a little hot under her nonexistent collar.

Telling herself that a little bit of exploration was necessary, outright dismissing her budding, licentious curiosity, she extended a forehoof between her thighs and delicately caressed her sex. Soft, warm, and exceptionally inviting, her plump mound felt as amazing as it looked - still, that wasn’t what compelled her. The moment her clawed digit graced her clit, a bolt of pleasure coursed through her.

She’d had no intention of making a sound, yet the foreign sensation was so strong that she couldn’t help but stifle a moan. Gently caressing the little bud, evoking more of the staggering bliss, she closed her eyes and fixated on the feeling; it was hard to describe, though it was an order of magnitude more potent than any form of masturbation she’d ever experienced before. Shifting her foreleg lower, bringing two claws to her entrance, she cautiously sank a pair of digits into herself.

While having something in her wasn’t as amazing as having her clit played with, she was undeterred. She’d played with many a mare’s clit before, knowing the tiny erogenous zone was a weak point, but there was another, somewhat more elusive area that she had every intention of finding. Probing her inner walls, angling her somewhat blunted claws up to her pelvis, she gasped when she brushed against her g-spot.

Unable to speak, barely able to think, she rolled her head and stroked the hyper-sensitive area within her snug canal. Though she hadn’t planned on getting herself off, merely hoping to learn more about her altered body, her priorities shifted at the drop of a hat. Like a randy youth who was coming to embrace their own carnality, she spread her hind legs and succumbed to her urges.

Pixel stood motionless, his jaw nearly on the floor, as he watched his friend feverishly getting off. He’d never considered himself a voyeur, most certainly when it came to any of his companion’s private endeavors, but he couldn’t look away from the depraved scene. Situated as her bed was, he had a nearly perfect view of her digits plunging in and out of her dripping, meaty cunt.

“Fuck,” she groaned, bringing his focus to her face.

Yeah, there was no doubt about it, she’d totally forgotten about him and his antics in the kitchen. Glancing around the room, realizing he’d practically been spoon-fed the perfect opportunity to execute his little scheme, his eyes settled on what he’d been looking for. Draped atop the dresser a mere hoofful of paces away, was the key to his victory.

Enacting a silencing aura around himself, while maintaining his invisibility, he gingerly nudged the door open just enough to slip inside. The scarf was a powerful tool, but it was only a tool; without the direction of its owner, or if it was tied to something heavy enough, it would be rendered all but useless. Forcing himself to stay the course, slipping fleeting glimpses to the furiously masturbating pegawolf, he did everything in his power to remain undetected. Nearing the bureau, balancing himself on three legs, he reached up, plucked the lengthy garment from the wooden surface, and remembered to breathe. Though he’d successfully gotten the biggest obstacle out of the way, he was far from finished yet.

It wasn’t until he’d bent over and wrapped the scarf around the heavy furniture’s leg, securing it in place with several knots, that he turned his attention back to the writhing mare on the bed. Despite attempting not to listen to her soft whimpers, heavy breaths, and the occasional expletive of delight, his stallionhood had taken note of the of the lewd noises. As he inched to the bed, with his semi-rigid cock dangling beneath him, he licked his lips.

The next step of his plan, while potentially easy, had left him uncertain. A part of him wanted to pin her down so he could give himself a taste of her new, excessively juicy naughty bits, but another, far more nefarious part of him urged him to do something much more reckless. Asking himself what Fenris would do in such a situation, his answer presented itself in a flash of wicked inspiration.

As soon as he was fully atop the mattress, he struck. Shunting his power from the concealment spells to a quartet of mystical restraints, he wrenched her legs apart and pinned them to the sheets. The look of stunned shock on her face was priceless, though it lasted but a split-second. Looking up at him with wide eyed wonder, her confusion transitioned to one of unfettered rage.

“Occidere eum!” Fenris shouted.

Her eyes flew to the dresser, immediately knowing that something was wrong, and spotted the piece of furniture rocking ever so slightly. Glancing downward, she noticed why her trusty scarf hadn’t obeyed her. Secured to the bureau, made useless by the smug bastard smiling down at her, the tool wouldn’t be doing anything any time soon.

“You’re dead as soon as this is over, I hope you know that…” she seethed, glaring up at his face.

“So grumpy,” he chided, condescendingly leaning in to pinch her cheek. “Maybe you’ll be in a better mood after we’re finished.”

Knowing full well that she was at his mercy, figuratively or possibly literally fucked, she scowled. “After we’re finished with what…?”

“Since I caught you scoping out my goods earlier, I figured, ‘Hey, I should give her a good, close look’,” he proudly remarked, nonchalantly stepping over her.

“I’ll pass -” she hissed, “besides, it’s not like I haven’t seen a stallionhood more times than I can count. I mean, for fuck’s sake, I’ve had one my whole life.”

“True,” Pixel quipped, lazily spinning and facing the opposite direction as her, “but there are two small problems with that. For starters, you had a stallionhood - secondly, you’ve never had a nice look at mine.”

Effectively straddling her head, with his package dangling over her face, he slowly began lowering himself. Resting his junk on her face would serve a dual purpose; not only would it be extremely demeaning for her, and hilarious for him, but it would allow him to thoroughly inspect her marehood. While her altered anatomy appeared to be legit, he wouldn’t know unless he got an up-close examination.

Unable to look away from the slowly descending dick and balls, Fenris swallowed hard. “If those touch me, I…I’ll bite them - Gah?!”

Withdrawing his head from her crotch, having given her snatch a single, solitary lick, Pixel looked over his shoulder. “You might want to remember that biting can go both ways. Instead of complaining, I suggest you put your mouth to better use.”

If the bitch really was dumb enough to bite his junk, he’d return the favor and then some. Shifting in place, peering down at her crotch, he leaned in, extended his tongue, and buried his snout in her goods - sure, it might have been a little weird to be eating out his best friend, but it wasn’t the strangest thing he’d ever done. As he wiggled his hips and dangled his packages inches from her face, his taste buds went alight.

He felt it was fair to say that he’d eaten out a good number of mares before, but the pegawolf’s sex had a distinct flavor and aroma. More tart and spicy than any pony’s he’d ever been with, with a scent that he could only describe as wild, Fenris definitely brought a unique dish to his palate, though that was far from a bad thing. With her threat still ringing in his ears, he brought his lips to her clit and sought to give her a bit of encouragement.

Fenris’ voice hitched in her throat, her heart thundered in her chest, and her thighs trembled, while the kirin feasted on her cunt. She’d thought that rubbing herself had been stimulating, but that notion had been completely crushed by having her muff munched. As enthralling as the act of being eaten out was, a peculiar bouquet wafted to her flared sinuses.

Gazing up at the immaculately presented equipment above her, she reflexively drew a deep breath through her nose. She’d never paid any particular attention to what stallions smelled like, more than likely having ignored it since she’d always been one herself, but the musk drifting from the kirin’s junk was, in a word, infuriatingly ambrosial. Strong, earthy, and with just a hint of sweat, his stallionhood and pendulous balls sang an olfactory song that tickled a part of her mind that she hadn’t held until less than an hour prior.

Her head drifted upward, closer and closer to his groin, until her nose pressed against Pixel’s fleshy sheathe. It was like some preternatural force, something she couldn’t understand, was guiding her, urging her onward. As she railed against the unworldly compulsions filling her, feeling as though she were going mad, the assault on her senses reached a new height.

It took nearly everything Pixel had to keep her restrained, while he lapped at her snatch, but he screwed his eyes shut and shunted more force though his horn. His amber aura surrounded her teats, twisting and pulling the delicate buds as he lipped and suckled her clit. Getting a face full of his equipment and being brought to a climax would probably be the most humiliating thing to ever happen to Fenris, so he gave the endeavor everything he had.

Her resistance waned, her back arched, and her marehood drooled eagerly, as he put everything he had into getting her off. Though he tried not to think about it, focusing on the task at hoof, her exotic flavor, delicate musk, and increasingly whorish groans sent blood surging to his rapidly hardening stallionhood. He honestly couldn’t say if it was a gay experience or not, what with the mare having been a stallion such a short time ago, but he didn’t care - if anything, the absurdity of it all filled him with determination.

With her mind reeling, barely able to form a coherent thought, Fenris’ eyes rolled wildly. She’d had more orgasms than she could count, both by herself and with her innumerable sexual conquests, yet she only realized too late that she was reaching her limit. The heat within her abdomen was a roaring inferno, her limbs refused to obey her, and she was powerless to stop the slatternly, unbecoming noises creeping past her lips.

Just as the bliss reached a fevered pitch, threatening to overwhelm her sanity, it struck; with all the devastating force of a dying star, her climax undid her on some fundamental level. She screamed out, her rapturous howl giving voice to her surrender, as a torrent of nectar gushed from her winking, convulsing depths. Of all the things she’d done, all the trials, tribulations, and triumphs she’d ever been through, the moment of her climax rocked her to the very core of her being.

Pure, unrefined ecstasy coursed through the very fiber of her being, threatening to undo her on a fundamental level. It felt like every nerve in her body went alight, eclipsing the world around her and replacing it with a taste of nirvana itself. Wailing to the heavens, thrashing against her magical bonds, she weathered the storm of raw, unrefined pleasure and prayed she’d survive.

If she’d only known that this was what mares experienced when they came, she may have done things differently, yet the revelation was of little consequence. All the strength fled her, she faded in and out of consciousness, and her eyes stared blankly up at the stallion, apathetically watching him get to his hooves. Save for the steady rise and fall of her chest, hauling the scent-filled air into her burning lungs, she didn’t move - couldn’t move. Only barely registering Pixel’s haughty face staring down at her, she willed herself to grimace.

“Awwwww,” Pixel patronizingly hummed, reaching out and pinching her cheek, “you’re still grumpy after that?”

“F…fu - Cough - fuck you,” she weakly coughed.

“Maybe next time, if you’re a good little mare,” he snickered. “You want a sports drink from the kitchen? I mean, you did just squirt like a geyser - figure you might be a little dehydrated.”

Through sheer willpower alone, Fenris lunged for her friend. The pitiable attempt, driven by contempt, failed spectacularly. As the kirin leaned to the side, easily evading her, she landed chest down, ass up on the mattress. Without her scarf, weakened and exhausted as she was, she was helpless to stop him - nevertheless, she took some solace in the fact that she’d tried to throttle the bastard.

“Ooooooh, I see how you want it,” Pixel murmured, gazing at her immaculately presented ass.

Truth be told, the sight of her so vulnerable, especially after he’d made her cum, was hotter than he cared to admit. Licking her juices from his lips, eyeing her meaty entrance, he shook his head and leaped from the bed. Mare or not, Fenris was his oldest and closest friend, and he’d never do anything to her unwillingly. Stopping dead in his tracks, peeking over his shoulder at her, an insidious notion came to the fore.

While he wouldn’t mistreat her too egregiously, it would be a different story if she wanted him to use and abuse her. Shifting his attention to her face, seeing one wolf-like eye staring dead at him, his smile softened. There was a trick he always kept up his sleeve, something that was almost an assured way to piss his buddy off, and the circumstances practically demanded he pull it out.

“Who’s a good girl?” he enthusiastically asked. “Are you a good girl, Fenris?”

Sure as shit, in spite of her angry expression, her furry tail lazily wagged back and forth. Ever since Fenris had imbued herself with timberwolf traits, she’d been unable to fully control the seemingly independent limb. Apparently the fluffy appendage acted with a mind of its own, often betraying its master’s true thoughts and intentions, and the pegawolf despised its reflexive nature.

Smirking to himself, continuing to the exit, he asked one final question. “Did you have fun when I was eating -”

“I will kill you for this,” Fenris grunted, staring daggers at her friend.

Pixel dismissively shrugged and trotted out, leaving the cum-soaked, enfeebled mare where she lay. He could have offered a final jab, some parting quip to bully his companion, yet there was no need. Seeing her tail wag slightly faster, having mentioned him eating her out, he learned everything he needed to know; though she may never admit it, she’d actually enjoyed his bullying. Content to leave her be for the time being, he victoriously sauntered through the house and out the front door to get them some takeout - if only to extend the olive branch.

Listening to the kirin parade through their home, hearing the front door open and close, Fenris closed her eyes. She paradoxically felt amazing and awful, fantastic but totally spent, and she wasn’t sure how to process it. Pixel would pay for his transgressions with interest, she had no doubt about that, but that could wait until later - meanwhile, she wanted little more than to shower, change her drenched sheets, and to research how she could undo the hex she’d unleashed upon herself.

As she falteringly pushed herself up and stumbled from the bed, shambling off to her bathroom, she duly considered her options. At worst, she’d be stuck with her body for up to a month, since the spell wasn’t designed to be permanent - at best, she’d be back to her old, ruthless self before nightfall. Reaching into the tub and setting the water to warm, telling herself that everything would be alright, she did her damnedest to ignore the ominous feeling gnawing at her mind…
> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

As she thrust a hoof over to her nightstand, fumbling to silence the angrily jingling alarm clock, a string of obscenities escaped Fenris. Her night, just like the two nights prior, had been restless and well beyond exasperating. Being unable to undo her transformation would have been aggravating enough, but that problem had become overshadowed by another, maddening issue.

Be it from Pixel’s teasing, her female biology fully activating, or some combination of the two, she’d begun entering her first heat. It had started with what she assumed was a low grade fever, followed by an ache in her lower belly, prompting her to do a bit of research on the topic. While going to a doctor would have been the most prudent solution to her question, she couldn’t bring herself the shame of explaining her situation to a physician - as such, she’d simply diagnosed herself.

The physical signs and symptoms of her estrus were bearable, in and of themselves, yet her condition seemed to worsen by the hour - not because of how she felt, but because her mind was beset by unwanted, wholly inappropriate thoughts about stallions. While she would have loved to place the blame solely on her friend, she knew that would be both unfair and untrue. She’d unwittingly turned herself into a mare and, unfortunately for her, now she was going to deal with the repercussions.

Throwing the sheets off herself, feeling a cool, damp patch of cloth at her groin, she facehoofed. For two nights in a row she’d had wet dreams, waking up in a pool of her own lecherous juices, and there seemed to be no end to her licentious, contemptible subconscious. Rolling off the bed and to her hooves, cursing softly to herself, she gathered up the linens and stormed out of her room.

“Well well well,” the seated stallion began, smiling over at the irate mare, “if it ain’t my favorite-”

“Silentium -” Fenris snapped.

Pixel stiffened, preparing himself for the assault. Sure enough, a heartbeat later, the long, crimson scarf came sailing right at his head. Grappling with the length of fabric, using both his physical strength and magic to wrestle with the cursed item, he smirked. She’d been particularly irritable since she’d come into season, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from continuing to give her a hard time.

“You know - Fuck - I could help scratch that itch of yours,” he grumbled, fighting with the ensorcled garment.

“Not if you were the last stallion in this universe, Pixel,” she shot back, traipsing through the kitchen and into the washroom.

“Or we could ask the neighbors to borrow their orthos,” the kirin quipped.

Sneering, she loaded the blanket and bed sheet into the machine. “Keep talking, please,” she shouted, “your little suggestions can and will be used against you eventually…”

By all the stars in the night sky, she swore she would reap her vengeance upon him, but first she’d have to deal with her own issues. As cathartic as it would be to dole some payback to her friend, she was at a disadvantage of strength, mental fortitude, and arcane power. Having spent the last few days studying in seclusion, staving off the impulse to masturbate, she’d come to several conclusions - regrettably, none of them were particularly useful. 

The spell she’d cast on herself could be undone, although the procedure was both dangerous and would require components that weren’t readily available; to make matters worse, aside from being smaller and less physically powerful, her use of sorcery had suffered a toll. Two fundamental pillars of sorcery were willpower and concentration, and she’d had perilously little of either lately. Having set the laundry to start, she marched back to the living room.

“Reditus,” she commanded. As the scarf wriggled from the kirin’s grasp and coiled around her neck, she piqued a brow at her companion. “I’m going out to run some errands. Do you - Ugh - need anything?”

Shaking his head, Pixel waved a hoof. “Nah, I’m good,” he responded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry about giving you a hard time, it’s just, well, I didn’t expect you to be so cute as a mare.”

While his admission was truthful, there was a poignant reason as to why he’d made the comment. Bashfully smiling, he lifted his head and looked over at her. Standing motionless by the exit, staring blankly over at him, the barest tinge of a blush crept into her cheeks. He hadn’t been sure how a simple bit of flirting would affect her, but her reaction was more than he’d ever hoped for.

“Actually,” he hastily added, “could you pick up the newest issue of Power Ponies for me?”

“If I find myself by the comic shop, maybe…” she grunted, stomping out and slamming the door behind herself.

Grinning like an absolute fool, he glanced up at the clock to check the time. There’d been something he’d wanted to do to screw with her, but she offered him the opportunity to pull it off. Biding his time, promising himself that he’d wait a solid ten minutes until he enacted his harmless scheme, he plucked a magazine from the coffee table and begrudgingly forced himself to be patient.

As she trotted through town, disregarding the few ponies she passed, Fenris moved like a mare on a mission - mostly because she was on a mission. The libidinous cravings she endured were both infuriating and horribly distracting, and they’d led her to a single conclusion. If her body insisted on being stimulated, she’d do just that - she’d go out and buy something to scratch her carnal itch.

It took her less than half an hour to reach her destination, yet her arrival dealt a blow to her confidence. She wouldn’t have thought that entering an adult novelty shop would give her a moment for pause, yet the indignity of it did just that; for fuck’s sake, she’d never needed any sort of sex toy, not with her ability to woo mares off their hooves! Setting her brow and pursing her lips, she strolled into the unassuming shop.

Rows upon rows of pornographic material lined the stores interior, with posters and promotional material adorning the walls, but those weren’t what she was after - no, not in the slightest. If she’d wanted to merely look at something smutty, she could have picked up a magazine from the corner shop, instead of going out on a trek through town. As she scanned the interior, the sound of a clearing throat caught her ear.

“Can I help you, Ma’am?” the cashier, a somewhat portly, albeit friendly-looking unicorn asked.

Her lip reflexively curled, as she pressed onward and away from the stallion. “No…”

Be damned if she’d casually announce what she was there for, not to a total stranger, so she’d just help herself. Winding through the aisles, casually browsing the various media, accessories, and lewd garments they had available, she finally found what she’d been looking for. Drawing to a halt, she turned to fully face what she could only describe as a monument of depravity.

Dildos - so many dildos of varying shapes, sizes, colors and textures that she was genuinely startled with the sheer variety. With more than fifty of the damn things available, modeled after a number of Equestria’s sapient and non-sapient species, she really wasn’t sure where to start. As she looked them over, mutely wondering which one would best suit her needs, her eyes settled upon a relatively modest canine-themed dong.

Nearly half the length of her bygone stallionhood, with an appreciably fat knot at the base, the sex-toy called to her id; it was by no means the largest dildo they had available, nor was it the smallest, yet she hadn’t come intending to test, metaphorically or not, her limits. Nodding to herself, snatching the clam-shell package from its wall peg, she wheeled around and proceeded back to the checkout.

Mercifully for her, the clerk either ignored or failed to notice the rosiness in her cheeks and beads of sweat on her brow - merely ringing her up, bagging her purchase, and bidding her a good day. She couldn’t explain why the endeavor was as trying as it had been, considering her various sexual exploits in the past, but she felt almost vulnerable buying something so intimate; maybe it was her female brain overpowering her personality, or perhaps it was the shame of the stallion knowing what she was going to do with the toy - in any case, she swiftly departed without saying a word.

Stepping outside and into the cool, crisp autumn air, she glanced in the opposite direction of her home. Pixel had mentioned wanting her to pick up a comic, and it wasn’t like his request was particularly egregious, so she felt compelled to oblige him. Altering her course, stashing her purchase within the folds of her scarf, she trotted to her secondary destination.

...

Sitting atop Fenris’ bed, Pixel ground her pillow over his crotch. He’d intentionally abstained from showering for the last day or so, and even taken a brief jog the evening prior, purely to work up a bit of a funk. As his musky package glided over the cushion, driving his scent into the fabric, he smirked.

Since his little bout with her in her room, making her cream herself, he’d developed a small theory. Despite not forcing her to do anything to his equipment, she’d spontaneously pushed her nose to his junk and, if he hadn’t been so vehement with the oral, he could have sworn she would’ve done more than that to his package. If his hypothesis was right, that she actually had developed some lustful interest in stallions - heaven help him, he might have to see how far she’d let him go with her.

Only after he’d imparted his stallionly aroma into her other pillows and her freshly washed bed sheets did he return to the sofa. The entire process took less than an hour, with his original plan being much less complicated - still, seeing as how her load of laundry got finished in time, he figured why not. Mere minutes after making himself comfortable, the front door swung open to reveal his dearest roommate.

“Welcome back,” he casually greeted, moments before the comic he’d asked for sailed to his side. “By the way, I made your bed for you.”

“Thanks, but you still owe me four bits,” she grunted, cantering to her chamber. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some much needed research to get to.”

Following her with his eyes, something peculiar caught his attention. Her pace was quickened, her tail was partially flagged, and he felt certain that he’d caught a glimpse of her dampened marehood, yet those weren’t what held his interest. Buried under her scarf, pinned beneath one wing, was an oddly shaped something - something she’d tried and failed to conceal from him.

Fighting the urge to ask her about it, feigning ignorance, he picked up his comic and started reading. She hadn’t mentioned what she was going out for, but whatever she’d gone out to do had ended up getting her a little worked up. He’d have to give her a solid twenty minutes or so, enough time to drop her guard and do whatever research she’d mentioned, until he could do a bit of snooping. Flipping the cover of the latest issue of Power Ponies, glancing up at the clock, he snuggled into the corner of the couch and waited.

“Alright,” Fenris muttered, opening the package and resting the toy on her bed.

Having had zero experience masturbating as a mare, save for the singular instance of rubbing herself, she found herself at a bothersome impasse. It was one thing to watch a chick get herself off, but doing it herself would be a totally different affair. As she clambered up and onto her mattress, musing on how best to diddle herself, she knit her brow.

She would have ridden the darn thing, if she’d had something hard and stable to affix it to, but that wasn’t an option. The way she saw it, she had two reasonable courses of action - she could either lay on her back and screw herself or do herself doggy style while using her wings to hold the dildo. Ultimately settling on the latter choice, she spread her hind legs, lowered her chest, and pressed her face to the pillow.

As she grabbed the toy and brought it behind her, nudging her entrance with the spear-like tip of the dong, her heart skipped a beat. Her self-contempt died the instant the toy graced her overly sensitive flesh, causing her marehood to reflexively wink in anticipation. Reining herself in, she cautiously pressed the toy into herself.

Though the sensation of cold, unfeeling silicone was strange, the feeling of the dildo slowly filling her was astounding. The nerves in her canal went alight, as the meticulously crafted veins along the semi-pliable shaft caressed her inner walls. Resting her head on the pillow, she closed her eyes and reluctantly started enjoying herself - after all, if getting off as a stallion was acceptable, she couldn’t fathom why doing so as a mare was any different.

Touching herself was interesting, having Pixel eat her out had been transcendent, but actually having something inside herself was something entirely different. Having spent the entirety of her life as a stallion, there was nothing she could equate the experience to. Curiously pleasant, in an indescribable sort of way, she steadily plunged the dong deeper and deeper still, only stopping once it’s bulbous root bumped against her clit.

As she fruitlessly turned her head, attempting to peer back at herself, she knit her brow. As self-indulgent as it sounded, she would have liked to see what was going on - nevertheless, there was no way she was going to stop. Easing her head down, drawing a deep breath, her pulse quickened. For whatever reason, imagined or not, she was reminded of the kirin’s heady musk.

Chocking the olfactory input up to her imagination, likely some subconscious sensual process, she withdrew the dildo and began languidly screwing herself in earnest; it was a bit tricky to get used to, since the motions were totally alien, but it took her next to no time to fall into a steady rhythm. Slowly warmed by her body heat, the cool toy reached a more agreeable temperature, making the process all the more gratifying.

Inhaling through her nose, sighing and lightly moaning through her parted lips, she bucked her hips back against the dildo. Though she’d only just started, she could already tell that her purchase was well worth the small investment. As she buried her head in the pillow, breathing in more of the uncannily intoxicating fragrance, a trail of feminine juices dripped down her inner thigh and to her fetlock. She wasn’t sure about actually cramming the knot into herself, but the shaft alone was definitely doing something for her…

“Oh fuck,” Pixel silently exclaimed, his eyes widening at the sight of his once-masculine roommate fucking herself.

Seated just outside her room, voyeuristically watching her, his forehoof crept to his groin and his turgid stallionhood. He’d initially planned to burst in and disrupt whatever she’d been doing, falsely assuming she was going to attempt to undo the transformative curse, yet the sight of her shamelessly getting off was way, way hotter than it had any right to be. Altering his grand designs to something all the more self-serving, stroking his cock all the while, his eyes never left her juicy loins.

“Mmmmm - Aaaaaahn,” she softly whimpered, arching her back.

She had no way to know she was putting on a show, and she had no reason for the theatrics, leading him to believe that her actions weren’t any sort of an act. If she was that desperate for some attention, especially being as good looking as she was, she could easily go out and score a one-night stand with somepony. Shaking his head in amusement, he fell motionless.

There was somepony who could give her what she wanted, somepony who’d earned her trust ages ago. While they may play tricks on one another, or occasionally give each other shit, their friendship had been tried and tested time and again - long story short, if there was anypony she’d feel comfortable enough to bed, it would be him. Jumping to his hooves, feeling like a horny genius, he kicked open the door and leaped into the room.

The jarring sound caused Fenris to start, yet things only got worse from there. Glancing to the doorway, seeing her roommate proudly smiling over at her, her blood ran cold. In her haste to sate her marish needs, she’d neglected to properly shut or lock her door. Being caught with her hoof on her crotch had been bad, but having him walk in while a dildo was lodged in her cunt was easily the most mortifying thing to ever happen to her.

“G…get out!” she hollered, her panic-streaked voice reverberating throughout the small chamber.

“Wait!” he rebuked, holding up a cloven hoof. “Listen, I have a proposal. Fenris, we’ve known each other for - what, over fifteen years? You’re a hot mare, I’d like to think I’m a decently attractive stallion, so why don’t we do each other a favor here.”

“Get,” she seethed, glaring at him, “out…”

Ignoring her demand, he trotted over to the bed, jumped onto the mattress, turned sidelong, and cocked his hind leg at her. The sight of his endowment landed a ruinous blow to her higher functions, all but erasing her vitriol. They say that proof is in the pudding, and if his bobbing erection was anything to go off of, he’d been sincere when he mentioned that she was a hot mare.

“Instead of a shitty dildo, how about I let you experience the real thing,” he murmured. “No tricks, no harassment - just two ponies scratching an itch for one another.”

Keeping her lips sealed, knowing full well that she was drooling from both ends, she swallowed hard. Despite his unwanted intrusion, he’d made a good point. They were both adults, they both had a healthy libido, and she felt confident that an actual cock would feel significantly better than a mere toy. Grappling with her monstrous id, with her consciousness all but screaming at her not to relent to his advances, she licked her lips.

“I mean, come on, you’re Fenris,” he chuckled, inching up beside her. Stepping over her lowered head, he dropped his hips and dragged his coin purse over her snout. “When’s the last time you ever half-assed anything…”

The heat and fragrance of his package struck her like a gong, wearing away at her sanity. Shivering from head to hoof, clenching around the submerged length of silicone, she withdrew her wings and allowed the dong to slide from her depths. As her marehood angrily winked at nothing, practically begging her to be filled, her composure broke.

“F…fine,” she stammered, her cheeks darkening as she shoved him away, “but under two conditions.”

Backing away to the very edge of the mattress, his expression softened. “Name them.”

“Number one, you stop if I tell you to stop,” she hissed, locking eyes with him. “Number two, if you ever, ever breathe a word of this to anypony, they’ll never find your body.”

Waving away her concerns, retaining his amiable tone and expression, Pixel moved around behind her. “Done and done. And don’t worry, I’ll go nice and slow ~ alright?”

“Hmmmph,” she harrumphed, looking away from him. “Whatever…”

He could hardly believe she’d actually agreed to letting him plow her. He’d half expected her to sic her scarf on him, choking him out or dragging him out of the room, yet she actually seemed interested in doing the deed - well, as interested as Fenris was with doing anything she didn’t have absolute control in. Rearing to his hind legs, having kicked the discarded toy off the bed, he locked his forelegs over her hips and shuffled forward.

Relying on his experience to guide him, leaning on his muscle memory, he flexed his pelvis and brought the blunt head of his cock to her entrance. He never would have thought he’d wind up mounting his best buddy, but fate must have had a sense of humor. Too worked up to give it much thought, having gone months without a lay, he slowly sank his length into her.

Like molten velvet, her interior embraced his stallionhood. It took more restraint than he cared to admit to keep himself from instantly going balls deep, but he was able to manage - if only just. Aside from giving her a chance to adjust to the intrusion, he wanted her to savor how good an actual dick was compared to a paltry marital aid. Savoring her warmth, keeping his eyes shut, he failed to notice how much she was enjoying the experience.

Biting down on her hoof, Fenris reeled at the sensations accosting her. In the blink of an eye, her friend’s words were proven true; his stallionhood was leagues better than the toy she’d been using. Markedly larger and hotter, his endowment steadily stretched her confines. She’d never thought he was particularly large for his size, only being slightly above average for a kirin, but he felt positively massive.

As his thick medial ring forced its way past her meaty lower lips, grinding against her g-spot, she rolled her hips back and groaned. She hadn’t wanted to do something so impulsive, yet her body acted of its own lustful accord. Summoning the courage to turn her head and peek up at him, she gulped. His shit-eating grin and heavily lidded eyes told her everything she needed to know - he realized she was into it.

“Not a word,” she grumbled, preemptively silencing him - alas, there was no stopping him.

Balancing himself on one foreleg, Pixel reached out and stroked her blushing cheek. “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying yourself - actually, I’d say it’s perfectly natural,” he endearingly remarked, softly scratching her chin. “Just relax and let me do all the work; can you be a good girl and do that for me?”

Though he couldn’t see it, he felt her tail wagging against his belly. Though he was tempting to berate her or give her a hard time, that could wait - at least for the time being; for now, he needed to get the hooks in a little deeper. If he could successfully win her over, showing her how convenient it was to have him available to tend to her amorous needs, he’d basically have access to pussy whenever he wanted.

Bracing his legs and securing his grip, he withdrew a portion of his length and gave her her first real thrust - nothing too hard, but enough to get the ball rolling. Her vice-like snatch clenched upon him, as he bumped against her womb. Sweetly smiling down at her, seeing her eyelids flutter, his ambitions soared. Whether she knew it or not, he was about to rock her world.

She’d been about to say something - anything to shut him up, but the bliss of each plunge was too much to bear. Her ire was drowned out, beneath the inexorable tide of pleasure. Reflexively bucking against him, meeting his thrusts, she stifled herself - even then, it wasn’t enough. Moaning around her hoof, it felt as though some part of her was fading away.

His weight against her back, his steady, almost loving pace, and the abject sense of fullness he afforded, she came to a startling realization. Being fucked didn’t just feel good - it felt right. It was hard to wrap her head around, but some part of her clearly embraced her newfound role. She wasn’t supposed to be in charge, she wasn’t built to be a dominant creature - no, she was made to be used by a strong, virile stallion. With every buck of his hips, every gentle slap of his nuts against her clit, her defiance withered.

Before she even realized it, she was moving in tune with him. Swinging her ass back, synchronizing her movements to his, she rhythmically relaxed and constricted her marehood. It was a terrifying revelation, to think that she inherently knew what to do, but it hammered the point home; in spite of the indignity of it, this is what she needed. Abandoning her hesitation, she succumbed to the sins of her treacherous flesh.

Increasing his pace, he draped himself over her and pecked her cheek. “Such a good girl - there you go, just like that…”

“Just shut u - Mmmmph,” she mewled.

Her spontaneous protest, born purely of spite, had a striking and wholly untended effect. Having only just begun, the kirin ground to an abrupt halt. Her feeble attempts to fuck herself on him drew to a close, as she peered up at him. Much to her horror, in place of the kindly expression he’d bore moments before, he stared deadpan at her.

Without saying a word, Pixel dismounted and hauled his length from her depths. He could tell from the look in her eyes that she hadn’t truly wanted him to stop, but he wasn’t one to let an opportunity slip through his hooves. If she really wished for him to continue, he was going to take the chance to teach her a lesson in marish etiquette.

Jumping from the bed, hoping his hubris hadn’t just screwed him out of a good nut, he made for the door and made one final gamble. “You said stop…” he announced, addressing her unasked question.

Seeing him moving to leave, Fenris’ thoughts raced. Though they’d been goin at it for a very short time, she’d already felt the telltale signs of her release growing stronger and stronger. If he’d kept it up, she likely would have cum in a hoofful of minutes or less. Snarling to herself, biting back her rancor, she cleared her throat.

“I didn’t say stop,” she whispered.

Peeking over his shoulder with an incredulous look, he stopped dead in his tracks. “What was that?”

“I…” she faltered, “I didn’t want you to stop.”

“Then why’d you tell me to shut up?” he countered, lazily wheeling around to face her.

Keenly aware that he was looking at her slavering marehood, she averted her gaze. “I just - Ugh,” she groused, hating herself for what she was about to say. “You can keep going.”

“I mean,” he continued, backing towards the exit, “I’m really not sure. The last thing I want to do is make you -”

“Will you get over here and fuck me already?” she bellowed. “It’s bad enough that you talked me into this, so you’re going to finish what you started.”

“Or what?” he scoffed. “It’s not like you can make me do anything. How about you swallow your pride and politely ask.”

It was a huge risk to demand anything of Fenris, but Pixel had never seen her in such a sorry state. The haughty stallion he’d known was all but gone, replaced by a cute little mare who was desperate for some satisfaction. Shifting ever so slightly, ensuring she got a nice view of his slickened, throbbing stallionhood, he mutely awaited her reply.

Fenris had done many things over the years, from subjugating mares to brazenly cucking lesser stallions, yet she’d never stooped so low as to beg anypony for a damn thing - that was, until that moment. Scrunching her snout, she reached back with her wings and prized her buns apart. Embarrassing couldn’t begin to describe the debased display, yet it was better than openly beseeching him to continue. For a fleeting moment, seeing him move closer, she assumed her gambit had worked - sadly, that wasn’t the case.

“Let’s try this again,” he sighed, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his snout. “If you don’t nicely ask me to keep going, I’ll leave.”

“I…I want…” she sputtered, while her traitorous tail listlessly flipped from side to side, “I want you to screw me…please…”

Her plea was the sweetest symphony Pixel had ever heard, immediately bringing a smile to his face. Sluggishly stepping onto the bed, he trotted up behind her. In less than a week, he’d gotten her to reveal a side of herself that, to his knowledge, had either been buried or not existed before her transformation. As he mounted and smoothly sank his length into her clinging depths, hearing her whimper, he fell back into a steady rhythm.

“There’s a good girl,” he mused, sweetly necking her. “Doesn’t it feel good when you’re honest with yourself?”

Fixating on the heavenly feeling of his cock, she numbly nodded. She was still less than pleased that she’d had to degrade herself in such an unbecoming way, but it couldn’t be helped - not after she’d had a taste of the wonders he could deliver. Experimentally milking his length, utilizing muscles she’d only recently gained, she lurched forward with each thrust.

All of her concerns and annoyance were washed away, while his length pistoned in and out of her. The sheer sensitivity of her sex was staggering, being able to sense every vein and contour of his shaft, to the point where the entirety of the world was washed away by her mounting rapture. If all females were so susceptible to such treatment, it was no wonder that she’d conquered so many in the past.

“You gonna cum for me ~” he cooed in her ear, sending a shiver up her spine, “squirt like you did the other night?”

The mere reminder of the ruinous climax was enough to push her closer to her limit, but he wasn’t done with her yet - not by a long shot. With a soft glow and hum of magic, without any warning whatsoever, her nipples were ruthlessly pulled and twisted. The influx of pleasure loosened her tongue, filling the room with her blissful howl, as he fucked her harder and faster than before.

Though it was the first time Pixel had done anything even remotely sexual with Fenris, he could tell when a mare was reaching her limit, and his friend made fuck-buddy was very much at hers. Angling his plunges to better accost her g-spot, continuing to tweak and toy with her teats, he gently nibbled on her ear. He may not have shown it, putting on a grand act of arrogance, but he wasn’t going to be able to last much longer himself.

Between the damn good pussy, the excitement of doling out some long-needed retribution for all the chicks Fenris had figuratively or literally fucked over, and the chance to assert himself over a mare, his endurance was tried and found lacking - still, he was far from upset with himself. He’d managed to nearly break one of the most conceited ponies he’d ever met, merely by pushing her buttons and teasing her a bit. Securing his grip on her, simultaneously pulling her back while bucking into her, he took what little control she thought she had.

Dialing up the intensity of his thrusts, broadening his stance, he plowed her like a fertile field in spring. She’d made her intentions for him known, going so far as to degrade herself for her carnal wants, so she was going to get everything he had to offer. Breathing hotly in her ear, feeling a tremble creep into her thighs, he knew he had her right where he wanted her.

It was all Fenris could do to endure his heavenly onslaught, all but giving up any attempt to sate herself on him. Pitiable mewls crept past her lips, her hind legs threatened to buckle, and her snatch involuntarily winked, yet she was past the point of caring about her ego. Her pride, much like her stallionhood, was gone - replaced by an insatiable lust like she’d never known.

On and on he went, rutting her like a machine. She had no earthly way of knowing how long they’d been going at it, with the flow of time seeming to dilate, but it felt like a small eternity. As she teetered on the brink, both fearful and elated for her inevitable release, he sank the final catastrophic nail in her coffin.

“Howl for me, Bitch,” he growled, dipping his head and biting her collar.

The touch of pain mingled with her pleasure, elevating the moment to unfathomable heights. As her body tensed, drawing in a deep lungful of air, she gave him what he asked for. Braying to the heavens, while a torrent of syrupy essence lewdly squirted from her stuffed cunt, she was flung over the edge and into a maelstrom of ecstasy.

Her orgasm from the oral was overshadowed in an instant, by cumming on his dick; simply put, the experience was an epoch. Her depths spasmed, tightly squeezing his cock, while her eyes rolled wildly. In that moment, lost to the inexorable, otherworldly bliss of being rutted, her mind went blank.

All but convulsing, ignorant to his rapidly flaring length, she collapsed and unceremoniously unsheathed herself from his pulsing length. Only dimly aware of the ropes of seed being blown over her back, coating her face and mane, her consciousness faded in and out of existence. As she gasped for air, laying in an obscene, jizz slathered heap on her bed, she stared blankly at the wall and attempted to comprehend what had happened.

With his jaw set, hellbent on giving her the most intense climax of her life, Pixel hadn’t expected her to cum as hard as she had - that said, he wasn’t going to complain. Shifting his magic from her bosoms to his stallionhood, coaxing every drop of his seed onto her limp, shivering form, a wolfish smirk split his muzzle. He’d always had a soft spot for painting his mates, and this was quite possibly the perfect time to do so.

Taking care to fling a strand of spunk onto her face and over her eye, he stepped over her leg and to her side. “Gotta say, I’m kind of disappointed. After all that big talk, I’d expected your performance to be a little better,” he tutted, squatting down to smack her face with his semi-rigid dick. “Maybe if you improve, I’ll let you…”

He trailed off, as she craned her neck, shakily moved her muzzle to his package, and extended her tongue. He’d realized she’d had it bad, but he would never have guessed she’d try and get more. Nonchalantly getting to his hooves, snickering to himself, he jumped off the bed and practically skipped to the door. There’d be time to push her boundaries later, to see how far down the rabbit hole she was willing to go.

As he approached the door, seeing her trusty scarf resting on her dresser, he slowed. It was a wonder that she hadn’t used the hexed garment, although the sight of it gave him an extraordinarily wicked idea. Compelled by his insolence, with his higher reason clouded by post-coitus euphoria, he snatched up the article and brazenly wrapped it around his neck. 

“I’m just gonna borrow this for a bit,” he announced, leaving her where she lay. “If you want it back, I’ll let you suck your nectar off my dick…”

Unmoving, Fenris listened to the sound of his retreating hooffalls. She wanted to stop him, to leap from the bed and beat the smugness out of the bastard, yet it was impossible. On the verge of blacking out, feeling their juices seeping into and cooling in her fur, she shudderingly breathed. Vengeance could wait until after she’d recuperated, cleaned herself, and done yet another load of laundry.

Willing herself to move, she rolled over and ingloriously fell to the floor. She needed to shower before doing anything, regardless of how wondrously terrible she felt. Her motions were sluggish and labored, eyes unfocused and vision blurred, and it was nearly impossible to form a coherent thought, while she unsteadily trudged to the bathroom. 

Fuck if she knew why Pixel had taken her scarf, likely just to mock her later, but she wasn’t too terribly concerned; so long as he hadn’t kept years of studying the dark arts from her, she had nothing to worry about. Stepping into the basin, letting the cold water wash over her, she reached for the shampoo and started lathering herself. Being cummed on was yet another of the growing list of items she’d never intended on experiencing, although it had happened all the same.

Closing her eyes and lathering her face with a forehoof, feeling the sticky remnants of the kirin’s seed, her mind wandered. The heat of his load had been stunning, to the point where she’d noticed it in the throes of her passion, making her wonder what it would have been like had he cum inside her. Thinking about his essence filling her, coating her interior, evoked an climactic aftershock that rivaled the orgasms she was used to.

Nearly falling in the tub, softly whimpering to herself, her forehoof drifted to her groin. She tried to tell herself that she was in control, that she was furiously kneading her snatch so she could regain composure, but a part of her knew that was a lie. Somewhere along the line, after having become a mare, she’d lost a part of who she was, and she feared there’d be no way to reclaim her former self…
> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Nnnf Nnnf Nnnf - Fuck,” Fenris panted, hammering her ass on her dildo.

In a clever bit of ingenuity, inspired by something she’d seen in a porno once, she’d purchased a second, albeit smaller standing mirror for herself - one which currently rested on the floor beneath her. Not only was the smooth, reflective surface perfect to affix the suction-cupped dong to, but she was able to watch herself while she was playing with her toys. She’d procured an additional two marital aids since Pixel had nearly plowed her into a coma, but that was another issue in and of itself.

Being fucked by her roommate had been a blessing and a curse. On one hoof, being mounted had possibly been the most mindbogglingly rapturous experience she’d ever had, though she was loath to admit it - on the other, ever since that fateful day, Pixel hadn’t so much as touched her. While she had enjoyed herself immeasurably, cumming harder than she ever had in her life, she couldn’t bring herself to ask him to do anything raunchy with her - for fuck’s sake, she’d never hear the end of it.

Another frustrating issue was that, for whatever reason, he’d taken to regularly wearing her beloved, ensorceled scarf - sure, she didn’t actually use it all that often, especially since she’d been transformed into a mare, but that wasn’t the point. If she took the article back, he may get upset - if he got upset, the chances of her fooling around with him would almost assuredly become nonexistent. Though she desperately wanted to have another roll with him, preferably with him screwing her into her mattress, there was no way in Tartarus she’d ever tell him that.

Setting her jaw, growing increasingly frustrated with her glaring lack of attention, she slammed her hips down, knotted the useless toy, reached between her slightly chubby thighs, and furiously rubbed her clit. She didn’t need the kirin to get off, but there was no denying that using a dildo simply wasn’t the same. So far as she could tell, regardless of a dong’s size or form, nothing could compare to skin on skin.

Arching her back and supporting herself on one foreleg, she directly accosted her g-spot with the thick root of the dong. The change in positioning sent her creeping closer to release, yet she wasn’t nearly finished yet. As she continued angrily massaging her stuffed cunt, focusing on the welling pleasure in her lower abdomen, she was finally given what she so desperately needed. 

“Fuck,” she growled, overcome with a wave of bliss.

Her depths convulsed, her legs trembled, and saliva crept down her cheek - still, it was a hollow victory. Panting out, she laboriously rocked forward, placed her forehooves to either side of the mirror and pushed herself up. With a grunt and all but audible pop, the dildo sprang from her winking, slightly gaped marehood.

“Getting pretty good at that,” an all too familiar voice noted.

Her hackles raised, her lips curled into a sneer, and she wheeled around to her door. Sure enough, standing just outside, was the abhorrently annoying, yet handsome kirin. If the bastard had been standing there the whole time, watching her wantonly screw herself, why the fuck didn’t he see himself in and have his way with her. Coolly wheeling around, she bared her teeth at the useless voyeur.

“Fuck off,” she snarled.

Snapping her a crisp salute and shooting her a wink, Pixel nonchalantly trotted away. “You got it, Toots!”

Flipping the scarf over his shoulder, he cheerfully hummed to himself and proceeded to his bedroom. In the time since he’d bent her over and done her raw, the most he’d done to her was compliment her looks or, on occasion, give her a catcall. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t mind having another tryst with her, but treating her respectfully and exerting a bit of self-control was all part of his plan - a plan that was already paying dividends.

She was still very much in heat, had gone out and purchased a number of new toys to sate her carnal urges with, and he’d caught her eyeing his package a hoofful of times. Her adorable little tough mare act was so pathetic that it was almost sad, and he knew she wouldn’t be able to hold out for much longer. All she needed was a final little push, something to push her to the breaking point, then he’d really be able to have some fun with her.

Strutting into his chamber, taking care to leave the door wide open, he hopped onto his bed, flopped onto his back, and wriggled up the mattress and to the headboard. Seeing her feverishly getting herself off had been wildly inspirational, so he saw no harm in blowing off a bit of steam himself. With his head resting on the pillows, leaving his hind legs splayed, he casually reached for his semi-rigid length and began stroking himself.

It wouldn’t be his fault if she decided to poke her head in and see what he was doing, seeing as how he’d done the same thing to her some minutes before - in fact, he hoped she’d find him masturbating. His room was one door down from hers, meaning she’d have to pass by if she wanted to go to the living room or the main areas of the house. It really wasn’t a matter of if she’d find him getting off, it was a matter of when.

Closing his eyes, he flexed his pelvis and sent blood surging into his rapidly hardening stallionhood. Debaucherous machinations aside, the last few days had been great - no, better than great. It may have had something to do with having a fertile female around, but he’d felt absolutely fantastic. The shift in dynamic between himself and friend was invigorating, doing wonders for his confidence - to the point where he’d found himself increasingly pleased with the new arrangement between them.

Unlike the friend he’d grown up with, Fenris had become a totally different pony. Gone was the arrogant stallion he’d known, replaced by an almost timid, sharp-tongued, and deliciously alluring mare. Having some eye candy around was nice, although not dealing with the conceited stud was probably the best thing of all. With a contented sigh, he bucked into his forehoof and wondered if there was any way to make his companion’s condition a bit more permanent.

Quietly cursing to herself, having rinsed off her toy and slid the mirror under her bed, Fenris strolled out of her room and into the hallway. Her climax had barely been worth the effort, doing nothing more than temporarily dealing with the symptoms of her estrus. Given her hormonally charged state, if the past couple of days had been any indication, it wouldn’t be long until her thoughts were clouded by lustful, wholly unwanted thoughts.

She trotted straight by the kirin’s chamber without a second thought, but movement from within caught her eye. Ordinarily speaking, she wouldn’t have given a shit about what he was up to, although it almost looked like he was doing something on his bed. With her curiosity piqued, she quietly turned around, inched to his doorway, and peered inside. In spite of having just cum, the sight which awaited her instantly set her loins ablaze.

Laying on his bed, her roommate lightly pumped his hips and jacked off. As enticing as the show was, a righteous anger blossomed within her. The gall of him masturbating was, in a word, infuriating. Had he come in and taken advantage of her, she wouldn’t have been able to stop him. Given her current state, even if she’d tried to fend off his advances, there would be nothing she could do - a fact that was as arousing as it was horrifying.

Eyeing his meaty shaft, recalling just how astounding it felt plunging in and out of her depths, she gnawed her lip. She tried to console herself, swearing that her lecherous wants were a byproduct of her infernal female biology, yet that felt more like a hollow excuse with each day that passed. As she ground her thighs together, inadvertently smearing the nectar into her coat, the sound of a deep chuckle caused her to start.

“No need to feel shy, Fenris,” the kirin cooed, bringing her attention to his grinning face and heavily lidded eyes. “Trust me, I won’t bite - that is, unless you’re into that kind of thing…”

She could and more than likely should have made her leave, fleeing from his sensual invitation, yet her urges were too much to bear. So long as he didn’t make a big deal out of it, mistreating her or condescending too heavily, she’d be just fine - at least that’s what she told herself. The last thing in the world she needed was to give him more ammunition to use against her, lording over her lack of discipline or her insatiable desires.

“There’s a good girl,” he purred, as she sheepishly slunk into his room and towards the foot of the bed.

She would have issued a scathing rebuke or immediately scampered off, had it not been for her treacherous tail. Having no control over the perfidious limb, she felt the flagged appendage lazily wagging above her backside. Hauling herself onto the bed, praying the dimly lit chamber would conceal the blush in her cheeks, she cautiously approached his groin.


She could leave whenever she wanted, she was in control, and as long as he knew that, she’d be just fine - nevertheless, the thought of his placid demeanor taking a domineering turn was almost painfully arousing. Eyes locked on his groin, while he continued to stroke his then turgid cock, she made her first blunder - she drew a deep breath through her nose.

As his ambrosial musk flooded her sinuses, her mind went alight. Be it from her marish anatomy, her heat, her corrupted subconscious, or some combination of the three, the smell brought an ache to her nethers. Quite literally following her nose, only vaguely aware of what she was doing, she dipped her head, stepped forward, and pressed her snout to the thick folds of flesh between his towering stallionhood and plump, cum-filled balls.

“There ya go,” Pixel sighed, extending his foreleg to affectionately tousle her shaggy mane, “breath it in just like that…”

Staring down his chest at her, seeing her practically bury her muzzle in his crotch, he grinned. He’d half expected her to give him some biting comment, possibly berating his attempt to entice her, but he’d gotten the exact opposite. Somehow, be it from sheer luck or his determination, he’d managed to weaken her defenses enough to have her take the bait - all that was left was to sink the hooks in and reel her in.

“You really are a beautiful mare ~ you know that?” he smoothly remarked, drawing her baleful gaze up to his face. “If you’d always been like this, I would’ve done everything I could to make you my marefriend.”

Briefly glowering up at him, she testily grunted and turned her attention back to his package. She may not have noticed, but he’d taken to only bathing every other day or so - filling his room and the rest of the house with his natural fragrance. He honestly wasn’t sure how much his aroma had affected her, but he was willing to use every tool he had in his arsenal to torment her and her usually stubborn nature.

Shifting in place, he moved his forehoof from her head to his dick. Having her huffing his equipment was all well and good, a suitable opening act, but he had grander aspirations for her. If she really, truly wanted to do anything more than venerate his goods, she’d have to pay a price. Biding his time, he let her entertain herself.

Fenris’ body acted of its own accord, as her tongue crept past her lips and pressed against the bare, wrinkled hide of his sheath. Caving to her perverse longing, her self-restraint waned. The salty, bitter flavors dancing over her taste buds, the strong, masculine bouquet filling her lungs, feeling his heat against her lips and tongue - they were too much for anypony, particularly a weak, defenseless mare to endure.

As she lowered herself to the bed, resting one foreleg atop his thigh, she stifled a groan. It had been less than a month, yet she’d come to a startling realization - mares lived in a waking nightmare. The amount of restraint they exercised to keep themselves from spreading their legs for stallions, suffering through their natural compulsions, was unfathomable. Dismissing the baffling notion of how females lived their miserable lives, fully intent on relishing her all too accommodating roommate, she slipped a foreleg under herself and reached for her crotch - that was, until the kirin’s hoof abruptly hooked under her chin and lifted her head.

“Ah ah ah,” he tutted, “none of that.”

Her rage and irritation roared back to the fore, eclipsing her lust in the blink of an eye. How dare he stop her from rubbing herself?! It was his fault that she was in his room to begin with, so why in the world had he commanded her to stop - moreover, why the fuck did she immediately do as he asked?! Summoning every ounce of courage she had, only barely stopping herself from scolding him, she scrunched her snout.

“Why not?” she huffed, her muzzle a scant few inches from his lightly pulsing length.

Snickering, he pushed himself up and leaned closer to her. “Because we both know that’s not what you really want.”

“I…” she faltered, only then comprehending that she didn’t have a rebuttal.

It was true, rubbing one out wasn’t where her intentions lie. If she was being completely honest with herself, she would much rather climb atop him and sheath his stallionhood in her winking, almost painfully sensitive depths - unfortunately for her, her hesitation cost her dearly. As he gently shoved her back, he wriggled away, rolled over, and got to his hooves.

“If you want this,” Pixel began, stepping over her and draping his nuts on her muzzle, “you’re going to do exactly what I say. No buts, no complaints - just follow your heart and be a good little mare.”

Though there was a bit of risk involved, being fully aware that his little scheme may backfire in spectacular fashion, he followed his intuition; the iron was hot and it was time to strike. The irony was that, if she stayed and played nice, she would be undone by her hubris; if one bedding had left her in such a pathetic state, a second would almost assuredly undo her outright. Thrusting into her face, he smeared her hair with his pre-cum slickened shaft.

Lowering his head, he smirked down at her sumptuous ass. Her wagging tail and very moist snatch said more than her words ever could; she wasn’t just putting up with him, she was actually enjoying the humiliating treatment. Continuing onward, moving to and off of the end of the bed, he jumped to the floor.

“Alright,” he announced, turning to face her, “come down here for a minute.”

Looking both reluctant and a bit upset, possibly saddened that she was no longer graced by his junk, she clambered off the mattress. If looks could kill, he would have died several times over - fortunately for him, that wasn’t the case. As she came to a halt several feet before him, he lifted a hoof and smiled.

“Roll over for me,” he murmured, his voice as faint as a whisper on the wind.

Rearing back askance, her temper flared. “What?!”

“Lay down and roll over,” he tranquilly repeated, waving his raised hoof. “You can do that ~ can’t you?”

“And if I don’t?” she countered, seething.

He shrugged and angled himself to the door, showing off his erection. “Then you can leave - honestly, it’s your choice…”

Left with the ultimatum, Fenris found herself at a crossroads; she could either storm out, ruining her chances of finally getting some actual dick, or she could humiliate herself for his amusement and hopefully get some genuine satisfaction. Scowling at him, looking him dead in the eye, she eased herself down and rolled onto her back.

“See,” he mused, trotting over to her, “that wasn’t too hard.”

With the world upside down, she shifted her attention from his face to his undercarriage. Though she knew it was impossible, possibly an illusion brought on by being so close to the floor, his stallionhood looked even bigger and more imposing than ever. Calmly stepping over her, bringing his groin directly over her face, he stopped in his tracks and started lowering himself.

“Final chance to change your mind,” he hummed, his balls hanging just above her snout.

She dare not say anything either way, lest she somehow make her situation worse. If she defied him, there was an all too real chance he’d deny her any sort of release - if she openly confessed her yearnings, she risked exacerbating his bullying; in short, her best and only option was to keep her mouth shut. Sure enough, after a tense moment passed, he continued his gradual descent.

The second his taint pressed against her lips, her composure slipped. With the sight and smell of his loins overwhelming her, she extended her forelegs, grabbed his hips, and began lavishing his nuts with her tongue. Ignoring his conceited laugh, casting aside her pride, she worshiped his package and spread her hind legs.

“Isn’t that better?” he haughtily crooned, rubbing her stomach with a forehoof.

Popping one of his balls into her maw, tenderly suckling the orb, she softly moaned. He hadn’t even done anything to her, aside from seating himself on her face, yet her arousal had reached a maddening level. Blinded by lust, feeling his cloven hoof drifting to her crotch, she lightly humped at the open air.

“Just look at you,” he added, stopping just short of touching her marehood, “I bet you’d cum if I just breathed on that juicy little pussy of yours…”

Bracing her hind legs, she arched her back and thrust her hips upward. The teasing, knowing full well of the carnal rapture he could deliver, fractured her composure - not simply because of how badly she wanted his cock inside her, but because he was absolutely right. By all the creeping horrors of the abyss, she’d do practically anything to get what she needed.

Suddenly his hoof shifted course, moving from her groin to her lower abdomen. “And such cute little tits too! Not too big, not too small - the perfect sporty hoofful to play with, although I do wonder how big they’d get if you got knocked up.”

She would never have thought that such a novel notion would impact her in such a profound way, but the mention of her being bred, impregnated with a foal, wrought a cataclysm on what remained of her stallionly self. The thought of her trotting around while positively gravid triggered some latent portion of her subconscious, casting her mind into a chaotic, licentious maelstrom. Acting purely on impulse, she threw her head back and filled her lungs.

“Please,” she whimpered, desperation ringing in her cracking voice.

Pixel paused, taken off guard by her reaction. He’d just been playing with her, saying the first thing that came to mind, yet he’d inadvertently stricken gold. While he’d had every intention of staying where he was, taking great amusement from her adoration, her outburst practically forced him to change tactics - that and it brought up an interesting question. Taking several careful steps backward, he dipped his head and brought his smirking face to hers.

“What would happen to you if that happened?” he asked, quirking a brow.

Tearing her eyes off his cock, barely able to form a coherent thought, she looked up at his face. “If w…what happened?”

Pecking her nose, he cocked his head to the side. “If I bred you, Silly - I mean, I know you said the spell would only last a month, but if you wound up carrying my foal…”

Letting the notion hang, he flexed his pelvis and slapped his stallionhood against his belly. He really wasn’t sure what would happen if he blew a load in her, but he was more than interested to find out. If her reproductive system was like the rest of her, being fully functional and fertile, he had to assume she could become a mother - that being said, he had no idea how that would impact the hex which had changed her, if it would have any effect whatsoever.

“I…I…I’m not sure,” she stammered.

His grin broadened, as he locked eyes with her. “Want to find out…?”

While he’d never given much thought to becoming a father, it was no secret that he had a particular fondness for MILFs. Not only did motherhood do wonders for the body, oftentimes adding just the right amount of pudge to one’s thighs and ass, but he could swear that having a foal increased a mare’s libido. If siring an offspring with his roommate meant he’d end up with some live-in pussy, raising a little filly or colt was a small price to pay.

Her jaw flapped uselessly, her heart hammered in her chest, and the depths of her marehood quivered in anticipation. As far as she knew, the spell had fully changed her into a female, both inside and out, so she more than likely could become inseminated by somepony. The prospect of becoming a mother couldn’t be more alien, yet the fact that she inherently found it as provocative as she did lent weight to her sneaking suspicion that she’d lost a part of herself - the stallion she once was.

Flipping onto her stomach and pushing herself up, with her flat, furry chest pressed to the floor, she shuffled her hind legs apart. Fuck it - if he did give her a creampie, there was no guarantee that any eggs in her foal-factory would wind up fertilized. On the slim chance that their fooling around did result in a pregnancy, it wasn’t like it would be the end of the world. For all she knew, if birthing a foal was to be her fate, there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Over the years, she’d seen things - done things that defied forgiveness, from dominating and breaking mares’ spirits to forging pacts with malign, otherworldly forces, so maybe - just maybe this was her penance. With her better judgment compromised, thoughtlessly following her biological impulses, she arched her back and raised her waist. Her ultimate destiny notwithstanding, she presented herself like the wanton whore she’d become.

Trotting forward and drawing a hoof up her hind leg, Pixel stopped dead. While mounting her and claiming her from behind would have been a perfectly reasonable way to screw her senseless, there was another position that may help cement his dominance. Stepping away, he playfully smacked her tush to draw her attention.

“Get on the bed and lay on your back,” he ordered.

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, she straightened up and scampered onto the mattress. Her obedience was gratifying to a fault, a firm reminder that his scheme was paying dividends, but he still had a long way to go before he was truly happy with her. As he unhurriedly joined her on the bed, he ignited his horn and levitated a pair of pillows to her.

“Here,” he calmly intoned, dropping the cushions just beside her, “prop your fat little ass up on these.”

Nodding eagerly, having long since forsaken her vitriolic defiance, she planted her hind hooves on the sheets, raised her behind, and awkwardly shuffled to the side. With her winking, slavering pussy on full display, staring down her chest at him, she shamelessly spread her legs. He couldn’t recall ever seeing a mare so desperate to be fucked, but that was by no means bad thing. She’d learn soon enough that obedience would be met with a reward.

Stepping over her thighs, placing his forehooves to either side of her chest, he nodded. “Hey, up here…”

Fenris tore her eyes off the magnificent stallionhood dangling before her snatch, looking up to his face. She’d never been so turned before, as a stallion or otherwise, so she couldn’t afford to question him or disobey. Longing felt like a woeful word to use for her need to get fucked, so great were her primal desires. Reduced to little more than an animal, she stared into his eyes.

“That’s right,” he whispered, nudging her entrance with the tip of his cock, “I want you to look at me when I claim you.”

As she opened her mouth to speak, yet not knowing what she was going to say, he deliberately sank into her confines. Her eyes rolled back, and an unseemly moan crept past her lips, while she reflexively clenched around his thick, vascular length. Compared to one of her many dildos, the sensation of a real cock was indescribable.

The warmth of his body, his hot breath washing over her face, the sound of his arrogant hum, the fullness his endowment afforded, and the heavenly, masculine scent wafting to her nostrils were the epitome of sensuality, nearly causing her to climax on the spot, yet he’d hadn’t truly started. It wasn’t until he’d nearly hilted himself, with the fat head of his dick bearing against her womb, that he stopped moving. Knowing what was to come, the vestigial remnants of her vanity were sundered.

“Fuck me,” she mewled, “please.”

Maintaining eye contact, he brought his muzzle to within a hair’s breadth of her lips. “Since you asked nicely…”

And with those final words, her wish was fulfilled. In one swift motion, he withdrew a portion of his shaft, steadied himself, and started plowing her with reckless abandon. There was no gradual buildup, no tenderness or affection - he simply treated her like the worthless, pathetic beast that she was. Her voice reverberated off the walls and sailed back to her ears, before she even realized that she was howling in bliss.

“This is all you are,” he grunted, mercilessly pounding into her, “just a useless, good for nothing slut.”

“Yes,” she thoughtlessly wailed, locking her hind legs around his pistoning hips.

His proclamation rang true, casting a light on something she’d denied for what felt like a lifetime. She wasn’t a stallion - by the void, she wasn’t even a pony anymore; she was an object, a mere outlet for others’ sexual desires, and that’s all she deserved to be. Like the lost piece of a puzzle sliding into place, the completion she felt from the admission, from accepting what she truly was, brought with it a cathartic release that surpassed mortal comprehension.

In less than a minute, he’d pushed her to the brink - over the span of a week, he’d destroyed who she thought she was, yet his cruel tutelage was far from finished. The world fell away, overshadowed by the taste of nirvana he afforded, as she skyrocketed to release - sadly, it wasn’t meant to be. Seconds after he began, as abruptly as he’d begun, he halted. In that instant, teetering on the razor’s edge of oblivion itself, she felt something that chilled her to the marrow - she felt fear.

“Say it…” he breathed, drawing a forehoof up her hip. “Say you’re a needy little bitch, then I’ll give you what you want.”

Looking away, unable to meet his steely gaze, she gulped. “I…I’m a needy bitch...”

“Louder,” he softly snarled.

“I’m a needy little bitch,” she repeated, her voice dripping with conviction and desperation.

Flashing his teeth at her, he hauled nearly his entire length free. “Good girl…”

With that final declaration, he slammed back into her. Her mouth hung open in a noiseless scream, her eyes went wide, and it felt as though her soul left her body, as the entirety of her being was consumed by pleasure. In a way, it was a liberating moment - then again, it spelled her demise. Fenris was gone, nothing more than a name, and all that was left was a needy tramp who wanted little more than to be used.

The joy of having broken her, of having all but erased who and what his friend was was as or more enjoyable than the physical act of fucking his new plaything. Though there was no guarantee that he’d permanently broken her, his intuition and experience assured him that his age-old companion would now be more than willing to serve him as his personal cum-dumpster. Angling his thrusts, crushing her g-spot and pummeling her vulnerable womb, he unleashed his full potential on her.

Her velvety depths were an angel’s caress, yet he didn’t slow to savor it. He was going to mold her, undo her, and shape her into a servant - no, a slave. She would live to please him, an object for his amusement, and he wasn’t going to stop until her devotion was seared into the very fabric of her being. Driving her body forward with every plunge, he dipped his head and savagely bit down on her neck.

Her wail raised an octave, her marehood clenched around him like a vice, and her hind legs shivered, as she came a second time. Having her enjoy the experience served no purpose other than to reforge her mind to suit his needs, although it was entertaining to witness her crumble before his carnal might. A salty, metallic tang graced his palate, as he sought to ruin her.

Fenris couldn’t say how many orgasms she’d had, having lost count after her fifth, before her cognizance ceased to be. The room faded in and out, the line between pleasure and pain faded, and the snarls and grunts above her sounded muffled, while her ecstasy grew to unimaginable heights. There were moments when she wondered if she was dying, moving on to some higher plain, yet her fear was gone.

Moaning with each unstoppable thrust, her limbs went slack. Regardless of whether she was going to heaven or hell, so long as her rapture never came to an end, she couldn’t care less. Hours, days, seconds, millennia - the bliss never seemed like it would end - that was, until things reached a head. Though barely aware of the added pressure from his flaring stallionhood, as well as his pitched, almost frenzied rhythm, a bestial part of her mind told her that it was her time.

“B…bre…me,” she slurred, her baser functions wrestling control of her body. “Breed me, please!”

Pushed past the threshold, unable to stop himself even if he’d tried, Pixel gave one final titanic plunge, drove his stallionhood into her womb, and roared. His shaft pulsed wildly, his balls pulled up to his groin, and thick, rich seed rushed through his shaft, as he bathed her interior in his essence. It was the apogee of his performance, possibly the greatest he’d ever had, and it was all for her.

The heat and pressure of his foal-batter gushing into her, gracing her in a way that none ever had, shattered her. The climax she suffered through was an order of magnitude stronger than anything she could imagine, yet not a sound escaped her. Her eyes rolled back, her legs flopped to the mattress, and the sweet embrace of darkness took her, as her consciousness finally lost the fight.

Stepping back and wrenching his throbbing cock from her snatch, Pixel painted her chest and abdomen with the final, dwindling ropes of his spunk. Though she’d passed out from the rutting, his triumphant moment stood unmarred. Briefly considering waking her, surveying her sweat-streaked, jizz covered form, he stepped clear and flopped down beside her. The cum seeping into her fur could dry for all he cared - for the time being, he just wanted to catch his breath and bask in his victory.

While he hadn’t planned on taking a nap, the one-two punch of physical exertion and mental satisfaction had led to just that. By the time he awoke, with the sun having long since set, his room was veiled in shadow. He could and more than likely would have slept through the night, had it not been for a peculiar sensation that roused him from his slumber.

Wearily pushing himself up, feeling something warm and wet against his package, he groggily peered down at his waist. Resting against his thigh, having acted purely of her own volition, lay Fenris. Humming quietly to herself, she licked and suckled his mingled seed and her juices from his package. The sight was beyond exhilarating, and it affirmed his suspicions - his friend was gone, traded in for an eager whore.

“Having fun?” he muttered, reaching out to stroke her mane.

Fenris didn’t answer - not vocally, at least, yet she gave a subtle nod. She’d woken up some time ago, finding herself in a disheveled, deplorable state. Her coat was a mess, she smelled like the back room of a brothel, and her battered cunt was sore to the touch - still, the moment she’d spotted the kirin’s sheath, her mouth began to water. Considering everything she’d been through, and that she couldn’t get much filthier, she did what any reasonable mare would do - she followed her instincts.

Her friend had shown her an entire new realm of possibilities, and she felt genuinely foolish for ever having lamented her magical mishap. Her transformation hadn’t been a curse at all, it had been a blessing. Though she didn’t know what she’d done to deserve it, she knew she had to give thanks to the stallion who’d been gracious and wise enough to have her see the light. As she dug her tongue into his sheath, feeling his endowment stir and gradually harden, her pulse quickened.

“You know,” he sighed, enjoying the show, “if you’re gonna be like this for a while, I might need to pick you up a few things from town.”

Her ear twitched and her concentration faltered, as she lifted her head and gave him her full attention. “Like…?”

There were a thousand and one things Pixel could purchase for her, ranging from garments to depraved contraptions, but he’d need time to think, time to plan, and he wasn’t about to ruin any of the potential surprises he had in store for her. If she was the good little bitch he assumed she was, she’d find out what sinful pleasures lie down the rabbit hole. Waving his forehoof to the side, mutely commanding her to halt, he pushed himself up and unsteadily hopped from the bed.

“Come on,” he huffed, moving towards the bathroom, “I can’t let my pretty little mare sleep in such filth.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, causing him to stop dead in his tracks.

Facing away from her, with her unable to see his face, a twisted, rictus grin split his features. “Master…”

Fenris blinked, uncertain if she’d heard correctly. “Wha -”

“Master,” he repeated, glaring over his shoulder at her. “You are my mare,” he continued, turning and holding a forehoof to his chest, “and I am your Master, so let’s try that again. “Thank you…”

“Th…thank you,” she mumbled, swallowing hard, “Master.”

Master - for such a simple word, the implications weighed heavily upon her. She’d surrendered to him, effectively sworn fealty to him, and there was no going back. Demurely shuffling closer to him, keeping her eyes on the floor, she tensely waited for his reply. As absurd as it may have been, a portion of her pined to be praised, to be found worthy of his affection.

She had to keep him happy, had to keep him satisfied - if she didn’t, her use would be forfeit and she’d be flung into the limbo of going without real sexual indulgence. There were plenty of stallions in the world, but she couldn’t bring herself to do something so depraved with somepony she didn’t know. Pixel was trustworthy, he’d protect her, and he was more than capable of tending to her marish needs - that much was for certain. Lifting her head and looking him in the eye, she smiled.

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” he merrily hummed, trotting around and draping a foreleg over her shoulders. “Does my little bitch want me to get her a collar tomorrow?” he inquired. Peering to the side, while he led her to the restroom, he watched her tail start to wag. “Good girl…”
> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Within the confines of her room - well what used to be her room, Fenris’ turned to the exit and held her breath. She could have sworn she’d heard the front door open, which meant one of two things - either Pixel had finally come home for the afternoon or somepony was breaking in. Getting to her hooves, she timidly pushed herself up and trotted out.

Pixel sighed, tossed his keys onto the table by the entryway, adjusted his scarf, and kicked the door closed behind himself. It hadn’t been a particularly difficult day, but he’d been ready to return home - not simply for some much needed rest and relaxation, but because he finally had something to look forward to when getting back to his house. As a subtle jingling noise drew nearer, he smiled; as always, she was just on time.

“There she is,” he hummed, spotting her peeking at him from beyond the living room. “Come on,” he condescendingly encouraged, waving her forward.

Fenris’ cheeks darkened, her marehood reflexively seized, and her heart skipped a beat, yet she obeyed all the same. Time could do many things to a pony, and the past two months had reforged her in both body and mind. Her defiance and recalcitrance had been fashioned into subservience and desperation, remolded by her fleshly sins and her gluttonous need for pleasure, but the changes hadn’t stopped there.

It wasn’t long after her Master had broken her that he’d begun making small requests, leveraging her desires to suit his predilections. Things had started innocently enough, such as with Pixel insisting on being referred to as her Master while also urging her to critique her etiquette, yet things had only gotten increasingly extreme - still, she hadn’t questioned him. If he demanded something from her, rewarding her deference with physical bliss, she complied without question - even when his demands had taken a decidedly obscene turn.

Though the stallion she once was was a bitter memory, she still retained the knowledge she’d accrued over a lifetime of research and study - as such, it hadn’t taken long for her Master to utilize her expertise of the arcane to make several small adjustments. The first and understandably most practical order was that she make her transformation permanent, something she’d done minutes after he’d asked, but his other decrees had taken a bit more work. While she was relatively versed with metamorphic spells, having used several on mares in the past, she’d never employed any of them on herself - that was, until she’d been required to.

Adding a bit more cushion to her backside and hips had been easy enough, although some of her other alterations had taken a bit of study. She’d never really cared about a mare’s virility, but her Master had been quite resolute that she not bear them a foal - that said, he’d also been adamant that she stay in a perpetual state of estrus. After pouring over her grimoires and journals for several sleepless nights, denied his touch until she’d accomplished her task, she’d finally found the proper combination of rituals to give him what he wanted.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, snapping from her stupor. “Was somepony having a nap?”

Shaking her head, she scampered out to greet him. Seeing his smile as she approached - by the abyss, it was nearly enough to make her swoon on the spot. Stopping just short of him, without saying a word, she lowered herself, rolled onto her back, and grinned up at him - her tail enthusiastically wagging all the while. She’d speak if she was required to, although he seemed to prefer she use her mouth for other purposes.

Stepping over her, while his stallionhood slipped from its sheath, Pixel stared down at her groin. She’d come a long, long way as of late, but he intended to push her further - test the boundaries of what she could truly endure. As his eyes settled on her large, wobbling bosoms, an addition he’d taken immeasurable joy from, he balanced himself on one foreleg, reached out, and ran his hoof around her dark, tender nipple.

“Has somepony been a good girl?” he cooed, caressing the sensitive bud and drawing a hushed whimper from her.

“Y…yes, Master,” she softly replied, staring longingly up at his endowment.

Despite having promptly sucked him off earlier that morning, before he’d gone to work, she could still taste the salty, cloying vestiges of his essence against her tongue. He’d promised that he’d give her what she wanted when he got home, if she did her chores and swore not to touch herself in his absence, yet he hadn’t specified when or precisely how he was going to dispense her prize. Biting her bottom lip, stifling herself, she braced her hind legs and raised her hips towards him.

Pixel chuckled, watching her bring her drooling, meaty cunt nearer to his face. He couldn’t have been more happy with the way she’d been shaping up, yet he was far from finished with her. Though she’d enhanced her body to increase her appeal, and practically leapt at the opportunity to serve him, he had the nagging sense that there was some trace of her pride left.

She only ever left the house if he commanded it, apparently content to be his live-in maid and cock-sleeve, but he was going to fix that. As far as he was concerned, everypony should take a good, long look at what she’d become, and that’s exactly what he intended to do. Stepping over and away from her, he fished into his saddle bag.

“We’re going to do something a little different today,” he coolly remarked, producing a pink leash to match her studded collar. “I hope somepony is ready for a walk.”

Her joyous expression instantly faltered, her pupils shrank to pinpricks, and her tail fell still, as a toothy grin split his muzzle. What was the purpose of having an obedient, bombshell of a house-bitch if he couldn’t show her off? Motioning for her to stand, wholly apathetic about what her thoughts were on the matter, he stepped over and clipped the lead to her choker.

“Don’t give me that look,” he tutted, backing away and pulling on the band of leather connecting them. “It’s a beautiful afternoon outside, so I thought we could both enjoy stretching our legs and getting some fresh air.”

Fenris fidgeted nervously in place, her anxiety skyrocketing. What choice did she have but to oblige him? He’d undoubtedly shoot down any excuses she had, he could quite literally force her to comply, and it would be nearly impossible to change back into a stallion - not that she particularly wanted that. Heedless or quite possibly uncaring about her apprehension, the kirin lazily wheeled around and began pulling her to the exit.

Her hooves moved of their own volition, and the collar dug into her neck, while she was all but dragged along behind him. Only a hoofful of ponies had seen her in her current state, with most having been passers by on her forays to the adult stop, and she’d intended to keep it that way. Traipsing about within the private confines of her home was one thing, but being paraded about in public was quite another.

With her heart thundering in her chest, watching him open the door, he paused and looked back at her. Over her time with him, specifically after she’d come to serve him, she’d become aware of when he had something devious in mind; there was a particular look in his eye and an arrogance in his smirk that let her know he was up to no good, and this was one of those times. Swallowing hard, trying and failing to keep her tail clamped over her backside, he stepped closer and drew a hoof under her chin.

“Why so apprehensive?” he asked, his voice practically dripping with cynicism.

“I…it’s just…” she stammered, unable to meet his gaze, “I just don’t want ponies to think less of me…”

“Think less of you?” he mockingly parroted, recoiling ever so slightly. “If that’s what you’re worried about, how about you tell me what you are.”

More of a statement than a question, she was obligated to answer. “I’m your little slut…”

With a soft chuckle, his hoof wandered down her neck and to her fluffy chest. “And shouldn’t everypony know that?”

The question was deceptively commonsensical. She lived to serve him, having effectively become his concubine, and he constantly reminded her of that fact. If they were both comfortable with their arrangement, it was only logical that, sooner or later, somepony would be purview to their relationship. Languidly nodding, with a silly little smirk playing over her snout, she reluctantly looked into his eyes.

“There’s a good girl,” he purred, tussling her mane. “And you know what good girls get ~ don’t you?”

Her tail lifted and flipped back and forth, as her smile broadened. “Good girls get a treat.”

“They do!” he condescendingly responded, leaning in and pecking her nose. “As a matter of fact, I’d planned on bringing you somewhere special this afternoon!”

“Where?” she inquired. Seeing his expression harden, she looked away. “Where, Master?”

“That’s better,” he lightheartedly huffed. “It’s going to be a little surprise - something special for my perfect little bitch.”

She couldn’t help but feel a tinge of excitement, though there was a lingering sense that something was off, hearing his words. The closest thing to a surprise that he’d given her was the occasional face fucking to wake her up - even then she’d been thrilled to know he kept her in his thoughts. Taking a timid step to the exit, she turned and faced the warmly lit outdoors. Whatever he was planning for her, one way or another, she’d face it the same way she always had - head on.

Pixel beamed, as she took the lead and stepped outside - still, as pleased as he was, he couldn’t let her get ahead of herself. Pulling on the leash, he brought her to an abrupt halt. Her place was wherever he wished it, and that place, at that time, was slightly behind him and to the side. Perhaps on another day he’d let her walk ahead of him, but not now - not with what he had in store for her.

Briskly trotting past her, he glanced back and grinned. “I want you right there ~ you can do that for me, right?”

She coyly nodded, her cheeks going an even darker shade of crimson. Though she’d quite literally taken the first step, the hardest part of her little test was yet to come. Moving in front of her, leaving just enough slack in her leash to give her the illusion of choice, he magically closed the door behind them and pressed into the cool air.

As he nonchalantly strolled away from their home and onto the sidewalk, he made a point to wave over at their neighbor. Though he barely knew the stallion, only having spoken to him on rare occasions, the congenial gesture was but the first of many to come. He was going to make a point to greet everypony he came across, strangers or not, if only to impress his dominant role with his pet. The more ponies that saw him leading Fenris along on a lead, the better.

He was far from a psychologist, only having taken one or two courses on the subject, but he’d recently taken a great interest in how to bend somepony to one’s will. While forcing somepony to do something was relatively easy, it often resulted in contempt and condemnation on the subject’s part - in and of itself, this wasn’t a bad thing, but he had grander aspirations for his former friend. Glancing back at her, without breaking stride, he smiled.

Manipulating somepony was a bit of an art, but he’d like to think he’d been doing a fine job of it so far. Reinforcing Fenris’ proper behavior, while admonishing or outright punishing her for acting out of turn, had yielded results beyond his wildest dreams - nevertheless, she wasn’t quite perfect. Until she was all but his mindless slave, she’d still require his time, patience, and perseverance.

“Almost at our first stop,” he cheerfully intoned, flicking his tail from side to side and giving her a view of his package.

Coming to an intersection and hanging a right, he peered over at the nearby strip mall. The shopping center didn’t have anything all that interesting, like many of its kind, although it did have one specific store that would suit his needs perfectly. Trotting off the paved path and to his destination, he staved off the temptation to look back at his plaything. 

Downplaying the event was an instrumental part of his plan, so he’d have to act as casually as he could. His confidence would feed her dependence on him, and so he held his head high, strutted up to the entrance, and pulled the door open for her. Feeling her leash go slack, he turned his full attention back to her.

Fenris stared up at the marquee for just a moment, before lowering her gaze and looking into the shop. She’d never paid the small shopping center any mind, in spite of having trotted by it more times than she could count, so she’d honestly had no idea they had a boutique. Peering through the open door, seeing racks of frilly lingerie and mare’s undergarments, she finally comprehended where the kirin had brought her.

“Go ahead,” he urged, “go and pick out something nice for yourself.”

Both thrilled and terrified, she nodded and did as she was told. Though she’d very much played the part of a particularly amorous mare, she’d never dressed herself as one - sure, it wasn’t like ponies usually wore much of anything while out and about, but the prospect of gussying herself up sent an excited thrill up her spine. As she lazily drifted past displays and racks of articles, trying her best to take it all in, a particular outfit caught her eye.

Resting near the back of the shop, just beside a pair of changing rooms, stood a mannequin adorned in an ensemble that was as stunning as it was revealing. Garters, leggings, a brasserie, and a pair of embroidered, crotchless panties, all a brilliant crimson, contrasted sharply against the snow white dummy’s shell. She’d never really given much thought to gussying herself up, having been content to simply go about her business in the buff like usual - then again she never thought she’d end up hopelessly addicted to cock.

Staring up at the outfit, imagining what she would look like wearing something so provocative, she nearly forgot about her Master and the leash connecting her to him, until it was too late. As he softly pressed his hoof against her hind leg, caressing his way up her inner thigh and to her moistened loins, she gasped and looked back at him. Coming up beside her, having stopped just shy of touching her sex, he dipped his head up at the mannequin.

“I gotta admit, I think you’d look absolutely ravishing in it,” he whispered, leaning over and kissing her cheek.

The complement, paired with the small bit of affection, brought butterflies to her stomach. Increasing her appeal with him would reap nothing but benefits in the future, not to mention having something sexy to wear might be fun. If he really did like the outfit, he may be inclined to fling her onto the bed and make hot, passionate love to her more often than he already did! Giggling like a school filly, forgetting all about the choker around her neck, she excitedly nodded at him.

“Ma’am,” Pixel called, waving to an employee by the register, “could you come and help us for a second?” As the mare came over, a young unicorn with a soft pink coat, he pointed up at the display. “Could my marefriend try this ensemble on?”

The clerk stepped back and looked Fenris over, noticing but saying nothing about the collar and leash, then she pursed her lips. “Miss,” she began, turning to face the blushing, tethered pegasus, “what’s your size?”

“I…” Fenris trailed off, realizing she hadn’t the faintest idea about what sized clothing she wore. “I’m not sure. Master,” she continued, humbly looking over at the kirin, “may I get fitted?”

“You may,” Pixel smoothly replied, trotting over and unclipping the lead from her choker.

“W…well - uh -” the unicorn sputtered, taken aback by their apparent dynamic, “alright then. Come this way, Miss.”

Shooing Fenris off, having seen the hesitation in her eyes, Pixel trotted to the checkout counter. “Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting for you.”

It had been tempting to follow them and watch his pet get fitted and dressed, though that may have been pushing things too far. The last thing he needed was to get kicked out prior to making a purchase, so he’d curtail himself until the deed was done. Lingering by the cash register, picking up and idly flipping through a magazine about mares’ fashion, he silently waited for the pair’s return.

Several minutes passed, with the employee making a trip from the fitting room back to the display to presumably gather the properly sized garments, before he heard an octet of lightly approaching hooves. Lifting his head from the publication, his eyes widened. He’d presumed Fenris would look good while wearing something intimate, but he’d underestimated just how attractive she’d be.

Fenris kept her head lowered, her eyes glued to the floor, as she silently held a forehoof to her chest. She liked the way the garments looked on her, and they felt absolutely amazing, but that would mean nothing if her Master wasn’t pleased. Listening to him step closer, stopping just in front of her, she peeked up at him.

“Even more stunning than I thought,” he murmured, setting her heart alight. As he shifted his focus to the employee, who stood mutely several paces away, he cleared his throat. “I’ll take it.”

The attendant nodded and turned back towards the fitting room, smiling over at the beat-red pegasus. “See, I told you he’d like it. Let me just get this bagged up for you two, then I’ll -”

“She’ll be wearing it out,” Pixel interrupted, causing both the mares to stare at him in disbelief. Without skipping a beat, disregarding their stunned expressions, he reached into his bag and started rummaging around for bits.

“Um - ok,” the cashier intoned, evidently more interested in making a sale than her customer’s lack of modesty. Trotting around to the register, she rang up the purchase and weakly smiled over at the stallion. “That’ll be one-hundred and eighteen bits.”

With her jaw nearly on the floor, Fenris watched the transaction in stunned silence. She wasn’t sure what was more surprising, the fact that he’d been willing to drop that much coin on her or that he fully expected her to wear the scandalous attire out in broad daylight. Unable to move, reeling from the turn of events, she was powerless to stop him from paying for the getup, wheeling around, and seamlessly clipping the lead back to her collar.

“Come along, Dear, let’s go show you off,” he merrily stated, setting off towards the exit.

Numbly following along behind him, she watched the doorway grow nearer and nearer. She’d assumed that the ensemble would be something special for them, something naughty she could wear around the house and only in the house, but she’d been deeply mistaken. As they crossed the threshold and onto the walkway, she frantically scanned the area - sure enough, having only just stepped out of the shop, she’d made a scene.

A nearby family glared at her, a young stallion nearly ran into a newspaper machine while ogling her, and an elderly mare shot her a disgusted look, yet their dismay meant nothing to the kirin holding her leash. The choker dug into her neck, prompting her to move, as she lowered her head and tried not to look at any of the ponies judging her. Though it took less than a minute to trot away from the strip mall and to the nearby street, the ignominy made the experience feel like a small eternity.

Without looking upward, knowing exactly how to get home, she turned to her right, took several steps forward, and was nearly pulled off balance by the lead affixed to her. Her thoughts raced, panic clawed at her mind, and yet her marehood practically ached, when a harsh realization settled over her. His little exhibition of her wasn’t quite done yet.

“What?” he innocently asked, halting to look back at her. “You don’t want to go to the park?”

She had to do something - anything to stop him. Trotting around like his pet was bad enough, but doing so in something so revealing was an order of magnitude more shameful. Biting back her fear of displeasing him, she petulantly scrunched her snout, rose to her full height, and locked eyes with him. So long as she had a shred of dignity left, she couldn’t continue letting him do as he pleased.

“I d…don’t think…we…” she fell silent, as he trotted over to her, brought his muzzle to the side of her face, and breathed hotly in her ear.

“Don’t think we should what,” he whispered, tightening the leash in his grip. “Don’t think that everypony should see how sexy you are? Don’t think that all the other mares should be jealous that you’re proud to embrace your sexuality? Who cares what anypony thinks about you,” he faintly snickered, igniting his horn and surrounding her teats with his magical aura. “You already know you’re a slut, so nothing anypony says or does will ever change that…”

“N…Aahn,” she lewdly whined, instinctively arching her back and flagging her tail.

With but the slightest encouragement and honeyed words, he’d demolished her pitiful attempt to save face. A part of her felt embarrassed that she’d folded so easily, yet the knowledge of what he could do to her, of dispensing bliss on an unimaginable scale, could not be denied. Shivering beneath his touch, feeling her winking, needy snatch graced by the cool air, she moaned.

Pulling away, issuing an arcane, parting twist to her nipples, he met her desperate gaze. “So what were you saying?”

“Y…you wanted to go to the park?” she stuttered, only barely composing herself enough to speak.

“Mmmhmm,” he responded, spinning around and reassuming his position ahead of her. “There’s a nice little one right down the road. I figured you’d want to play with the other dogs.”

Without another word, as he trotted to their next stop, she nearly stumbled over herself to keep up with him. She could have kicked herself for attempting to overstep her bounds over something so foolish. Having long ago learned that a proper mare’s place was in the service of a stallion, she should have known better than to question his authority. He was her Master - it was as simple as that.

While it was difficult to explain, she was starting to understand the joys of her place. Aside from the unbelievable pleasure she experienced as a mare, there was something deeply gratifying about yielding to his wishes. His approving looks and flattery, while rare, were thrilling beyond belief and served as a constant reminder of who she now was - his bitch.

Trotting off the sidewalk and past a neatly trimmed set of hedges, Pixel strolled into the commons. A number of families lingered by a small playground, sat to one side of the grassy area, and a few ponies had indeed brought their dogs out to enjoy the sunny, autumn afternoon. While many in his position wouldn’t be so foolhardy as to all but drag a slatternly mare through a park, he moved with the utmost confidence.

He wasn’t there to put on some exhibitionistic show - he was there to prove a point. If his toy wouldn’t do as he said, he’d find another - after all, mares were a dime a dozen. Flipping the scarf over his shoulder, he gave a particularly forceful yank on the tether in his grasp and made a beeline to a bench resting beneath a tree. If she thought being shown off like a tramp was unflattering, he couldn’t wait to see her reaction to what he had in store for her.

Sorcerously flicking the lead from her collar, moving beneath the shade of the tree, he hopped onto the bench, stretched his forelegs over his head, and contentedly sighed. “It’s such a beautiful day outside, wouldn’t you say?”

Only barely registering what he’d said, Fenris stared at his groin. Either her new attire, flaunting her around on a leash, or some combination of the two had gotten him a bit excited, because his stallionhood was anything but relaxed. The semi-rigid length steadily rose between his thighs, growing larger and thicker with each beat of his heart, and it noiselessly sung a song to her. Regardless of where she was or what she was doing, the sight of it, knowing how utterly amazing it felt stretching her depths, never failed to get her blood pumping.

“I said it’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” he repeated, lowering his tone.

“Y…yes,” she quickly mumbled, her thoughts on anything but the weather.

Lowering his forelegs, bringing one hoof to his package, he lazily stroked his length and brought himself to full mast. “Though it is a bit chilly outside. Maybe you could warm this up for me…”

Her mouth watered, her marehood seized upon itself, and she shuffled closer to him, only stopping when she heard the joyous squeal of the two foals playing several dozen yards away. “Right here?”

“Do I need to repeat myself?” he countered.

Glancing back at the hoofful of ponies near the playground, seeing that they were being ignored, she ground her thighs together. A little taste of him couldn’t hurt ~ could it? Telling herself that it wasn’t the worst thing two ponies could be caught doing, she stepped between his hind legs, extended one wing, and softly grabbed the root of his shaft. Even if they were happened upon, it’s not like they’d get in too much trouble.

Her eyes drifted closed, her tongue lolled past her parting lips, and she opened her jaws, as she guided him into her muzzle. She’d never given much thought as to why some mares enjoyed sucking cock, prior to her little accident, but it hadn’t taken her long to figure out the appeal of servicing a stallion. The taste of sweat and flesh, the heady aroma of virile musk, and the pleased, heavy breaths of a stud were immeasurably arousing, to the point where she’d gotten off while gagging on a dick.

The world faded away, while she focused on pleasing her Master. Peeking out at him, seeing his soft belly, she wormed her head forward and brought the blunted cock-head to the back of her throat. There’d been a time when she’d struggled to properly blow him, but her perseverance and dedication made her past struggles little more than a memory. Filling her lungs, she continued her descent and forced him down her gullet.

“There we go,” he breathed, gazing down at her. “If I didn’t know better, I could swear that you actually like the taste of my junk.”

Peering up at him, with her focus momentarily broken, she fought the urge to withdraw and respond. It was true, she genuinely did enjoy worshiping him, and there was no denying it. As her eyelids drifted shut, allowing her to concentrate once again, she worked his thick medial ring past her teeth and onto her tongue. A unique aspect to her transformation was that, having been a stallion, she knew exactly how to best stimulate a stud, and that’s exactly what she did.

Bobbing and torquing her head from side to side, mopping his shaft with her pouting lips, she only occasionally withdrew enough to get a sip of air. Feeling him pulse in her esophagus, getting her first taste of his pre-cum, her pace steadily quickened. The quicker she got him nice and riled up, the faster he’d bring her home and rut her like a cheap whore - at least that’s what she’d thought. She couldn’t really say how long she stayed between his thighs, unapologetically choking on his tool, but it ended all too soon.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he grunted, bringing her motions screeching to a halt. “You’ve had enough fun…”

Rearing back and clearing her airway, she resignedly did what he’d asked and gave his cock a final parting kiss. It was almost a shame that their good time had been so brief, yet she could understand why. Looking back at the family having good, innocent fun, she sulked. If there weren’t foals around, maybe her Master would let her…

“Sit on it,” he purred, leaning back and resting his forelegs against the back of the bench.

Her head whipped around, she glanced from his pillar-like dick to his face, and her snatch gave an enthusiastic wink. He couldn’t possibly have said what she thought he’d said! While she was practically dying to get a nice, hard, thorough railing, to the point where she’d do nearly anything to get plowed, she wasn’t insane enough to do something in front of perfect strangers! Remaining motionless, noticing him flex his cock, she shivered.

“I said,” he growled, his horn glowing with arcane power, “sit on it.”

Before she could reply or make a move, he had her in his magical grasp. Being smaller and lighter than she used to be, he used his power to lift her up and seat her directly on his lap. With her knees resting to either side of his hips, feeling the heat of his shaft against her engorged, almost painfully sensitive clit, she bit her bottom lip.

Reaching out and grabbing her neck, Pixel pulled her face to within an inch of his snout. “If you don’t, you’ll never have to worry about getting it again. Either fuck yourself on me, right here and now, or go find somepony else to take care of you.”

The fearful look in her eyes was priceless, though he only had a split-second to appreciate it. Raising her hips and pressing her chest against his face, letting his stallionhood slip between her legs, she got herself into position and brought her entrance to the head of his dick. Even if he had been bluffing, he doubted she would have put up much of a fight - not with his ominous threat on the table.

Reaching a foreleg around her back, as she started impaling herself upon him, he relished the warm, taut depths slowly embracing cock. Her face contorted with barely kept pleasure, a small whimper escaped her, and he could practically feel how badly she wanted it, but he wasn’t going to let her have it that easily. Grabbing her tail, pulling the limb up and out of the way, he ensured that anyone close enough would be able to see her needy cunt being stuffed by his length.

“Bounce on it, bitch,” he giggled, hauling on her dock.

No sooner had he issued the command than she started wantonly screwing herself on him. Clenching on the upstrokes, while relaxing on her descents, she milked his length like the seasoned whore she was destined to be. Her technique had done nothing but improve over the weeks, as had her attitude, yet she still had some learning left to do. Only when the day came that she was an unthinking doll, a literal toy for his amusement, could he stop pushing her limits.

Sending energy into his horn, lending his magic to the endeavor, he moved her harder and faster with each passing second. She felt as amazing as ever, with the exhibitionistic flare adding an entirely new level of pleasure to the experience, but knowing he’d successfully brought her one step closer to her final goal was the sweetest element of all. Bucking into her, scraping his medial ring against her g-spot, he yanked her tail.

“I bet you’d - Ngh - actually like it if somepony was watching your stupid ass like this,” he snarled, overwhelming her with his mystical power. “This is all you are, just a dumb, cock-loving bitch.”

“Uh…Uh-huh,” Fenris mewled, fixating on her mounting rapture.

“If it weren’t for me, I bet you'd spread your - Mmmph - legs for anything with a dick, wouldn’t you?” he added, using his free foreleg to grab her mane and wrench her head back.

The discomfort and pain sent her rocketing to the brink, erasing her better judgment in a heartbeat. “Yes!”

Rocking her hips forward and back, doing everything in her power to earn his cum, she neared her limit. If he ever did leave her, his prophetic assertion would more than likely end up true. She’d crossed a line, passed a point of no return, and there was no going back for her. Having sampled the sinful delights of being a mare was staggering beyond her wildest dreams, she was beyond saving.

Leaning back, resting her forehooves on his knees, she frantically sought relief. A small sliver of her mind told her that the new position would make it even more obvious that they were sharing an intimate moment, but she was past the point of caring. She needed to cum, needed to feel his essence flowing into her, and she’d be damned if anypony was going to stop her.

Losing themselves to the moment, they moved in tune with one another. Pixel bucked upward, slamming his hips and sheathing his length on her descents, while she dutifully milked his stallionhood. Like many times before, and many times undoubtedly yet to be, she committed her body to him. She’d cum sooner or later, but only if she earned it.

One clear advantage of having possessed a cock was that she knew exactly how to make a stud feel good. An equal mix of theatrics and skill, having acclimated to her body, she worked his dick like a seasoned whore. Though she was different both inside and out, having forsaken her old life, she retained enough of herself to take careful note of her Master’s preferences and tastes, allowing her to serve him as best she could.

His shaft pulsed within her, the tip of his length gradually swelling in size, as he reached the brink. The sensation of him starting to flare, knowing she was going to get her wish, drove her absolutely wild with lust. Her higher functions evaporated, as her ecstasy reached its zenith. Teetering on the very cusp of her release, she gave voice to her yearnings.

“Cum inside me,” she blared, willing her depths to constrict around him, “make me your mare!”

Pixel set his jaw, hammering into her from below, as he staved off the inevitable. She felt as fantastic as ever, the perfume she wore perfectly complemented her naturally delicate scent, and her slatternly cries and moans fanned the flames of his passion, but the best thing of all was that he could practically sense her desire. She didn’t just want him - she needed him. Pushed to the brink, he reached out and grabbed her waist.

With a grunt and a snort, violently ramming her body down to fully hilt her, he peaked. Scalding seed surged through his throbbing length and erupted into her, bathing her interior with his thick essence. The influx of his roiling jizz, paired with the knowledge that he’d blessed her with his foal-batter, was a taste of heaven itself. Collapsing atop him, adrift in a euphoric sea, it was all she could do to softly coo and tightly grip his stallionhood.

“Get off me, you dumb - Ack,” Pixel shouted, shoving her to the side and unceremoniously off his softening length. Unseating himself, flinging his scarf over her, he smiled at a stallion who’d stopped to leer at them. “Sorry, the stupid bitch can’t get enough of it.”

He honestly hadn’t thought anypony would stop to watch them, but discovering the voyeur had prompted him to act. Trotting past the gobsmacked pony, leaving Fenris where she lie, he cantered away in the direction of his home. His pet could find her way home easily enough, and it wasn’t like she could live without him, so he wasn’t going to waste his time helping her. It may take her a few minutes to collect herself enough, but she’d be fine.

Leaving her in his dust, he didn’t even bother to look back. She knew where to find him, and he had no doubt that she’d come shambling back to his door before too long. So long as she didn’t actually go off and fuck somepony else, he didn’t care what she did with her afternoon. Breaking into a gallop, musing on how he could up the ante next time, he smiled to himself.

Looking at her fleeing Master, past the disapproving stallion who solemnly shook his head, Fenris clamped her legs together and pushed herself into a seated position. She could hardly believe Pixel would abandon her so abruptly, but she wasn’t terribly surprised; he barely considered her a pony, let alone an equal, so his apathy wasn’t as startling as it should have been.

Doing her best to ignore the onlooker, she took the scarf and unsuccessfully attempted to wipe the spunk from her coat - alas, it did little good. Scowling down at the strip of fabric, she tossed the garment towards a nearby trash can, got to her hooves, and shakily trotted away from the bench. The discarded apparel was hardly of any use to her anymore, now that she had some more fitting attire.

Trying and failing to carry herself with some semblance of pride, adorned in her lingerie and the cum of her Master, she shambled home. Though some sliver of her was less than pleased with the outcome of her outing, she couldn’t be too upset. There’d be plenty of chances to have a better afternoon ahead, regardless of what depravity the kirin wished her to endure. With a small stream of seed creeping down her inner thigh, she wondered if she’d get back before Pixel took a shower.

If he kept bringing her to the gates of Nirvana, she’d continue submitting to his stallonly needs. If any part of Fenris was left, the proud, domineering Fenris of her old life, he was on his deathbed. She was something new, something that was less than a pony, though she couldn’t quite say exactly what. It was only when she felt the tag on her collar jingle, inadvertently glancing down at the little metal badge, did realization dawn on her. She was a bitch, an object to satiate carnal desire, and that understanding brought with it a feeling of acceptance…
> Epilogue (Good Ending)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Though it hadn’t taken her very long at all to return home and peeling off her then filthy lingerie, hoping for nothing more than to wash off with her Master, Fenris discovered she was too late. Not only was Pixel already in the shower, but he seemed none too pleased to see her - specifically because she’d abandoned his scarf. Disregarding her disheveled, sullied state, he’d ordered her back to the park to retrieve the ensorceled garment.

Disheartened and disgraced, she apologized profusely and promptly left. It would have been bad enough to disappoint him, but things had only gotten worse from there. She looked and felt absolutely terrible, with his seed drying in her coat, as she plodded through the house and to the exit - nevertheless, she did as he’d instructed. The last thing she saw before closing the door behind herself was a framed picture of herself, back before she’d become a cock-addicted harlot, with her old friend.

The sight of them, smiling and waving at the camera, was as sobering as it was soul rending; in that fleeting moment, seeing who she once was, she was crushed. The breath hitched in her throat, her eyes grew misty, and she galloped away from her home, remembering everything she’d lost. Though she knew exactly how she’d come to be in such a sorry state, having long since realized she was tumbling down a slippery slope, it was too late for her to turn back.

She couldn’t say how long it took her to reach the park, nor how many ponies she’d passed along the way, but she found herself whimpering and softly crying by the bench she’d occupied less than an hour before - regrettably, the scarf, much like her former self, was gone. Panic mingled with her sorrow, thrusting her deeper into despair. If she failed him a second time, she may not have a home to return to.

Scouring the park and checking the trash bins in the area proved meaningless, with the article having seemingly vanished into thin air. She briefly considered asking bystanders about the lost garment, but quickly thought against it; given her slatternly sate, not to mention her quest to find a cum-crusted scarf, would only make her feel worse. Lost, forlorn, and utterly at the end of her rope, she aimlessly wandered away from town and to the countryside.

With the sun setting at her back, not having the foggiest clue as to where she was going, her thoughts raced. If she begged Pixel for forgiveness, he may take leniency on her - she hoped, yet she had a sinking feeling that he would be anything but merciful. While she wasn’t sure what punishment awaited her, she felt certain that whatever it was, while having a roof over her head, was better than becoming some homeless vagabond.

Crossing over a cobblestone bridge, still unsure of how to best deal with her undoubtedly irate Master, a faint string of expletives caught her ear. Given the relatively late hour and the distance from town, she couldn’t fathom who she could have heard. Looking around, looking for the source of the mysterious cursing, she only found her answer when she peered over the bridge and to the babbling brook below.

“Stupid - Ugh - fucking thing,” a unicorn mare grunted, scrubbing at a length of fabric between her forehooves.

The pony looked odd - not simply because of her snow-white mane and tail clashing against her black coat, but because she was none too clean. With dirt caked around her lower legs, leaves in her hair, and a scuff on one cheek, she very much seemed to be a vagrant. As Fenris quirked a brow, silently pondering what the mare was doing, realization dawned on her. The unicorn wasn’t washing just a simple bit of cloth, she was washing a scarf.

“Um - excuse me!” she bleated, cantering off the bridge and down the embankment.

Whipping around to look at her, clutching the abandoned garment to her chest, the mare glowered. “Who the heck are you?”

“I’m - uh - I’m Fenris and t…that,” she stammered, leveling a forehoof at the article, “is my scarf. I’ve been looking for it all afternoon.”

The unicorn glanced from the pegasus to the dampened accessory, scrunching her snout in consternation. “If it’s yours, why’d you leave it in the park covered in jizz?”

“I…” Fenris fell silent, taking a small step back. “Look, it’s a long story. If I could -”

“I’ve got plenty of time to hear it,” the mare interjected, nodding beneath the bridge. “As a matter of fact, I was just about to have some dinner.”

Fenris turned and looked over her shoulder, spotting what appeared to be a makeshift camp of sorts under the arched overpass. Several palates, each plastered with cardboard, had been fashioned into a series of walls, with a tattered blanket hanging over a doorway. Though it was a remarkably crude structure, given its placement, it would certainly serve to protect one from the worst the elements had to offer.

“How about this,” the unicorn grunted, getting to her hooves, “if you can convince me, I might just give you my scarf.”

Hastily considering her options, Fenris sighed. Fighting wasn’t an option, especially in her condition, and neither was trying to grab and run away with her prize. The only reasonable thing she could do was try and justify why she needed the garment and pray the mare took pity on her. Inching closer to the stranger, she weakly smiled.

“If that’s what it’ll take, sure,” she murmured.

Grinning over at her, the unicorn extended a foreleg. “Name’s Leech, by the way. Not sure what’s got you so down in the dumps, but I’d be happy to share some of my supper with you; it ain’t much, just some reasonably fresh bread and some corn chips I pilfered from behind a restaurant in town, but it’s still good.”

Though her smile faltered, Fenris shook the mare’s hoof. “Fenris, and I’ll pass on the food.”

“Heh - suit yourself, that just means there’ll be more for me,” Leech chuckled, trotting up and into her sanctuary. Holding the curtain open for her guest, she waved. “Come on in and make yourself comfortable.”

While she wasn’t exactly comfortable with the bizarre proposition, Fenris didn’t have an alternative. Seeing herself inside, surveying the small yet oddly cozy interior of the improvised domicile, she eased herself down by the door and rested her back against the wall. Whoever Leech was, she definitely seemed remarkably proficient with making due. Watching the mare snatch up a partially consumed boule, as well as an obscenely large sack of nacho chips, she took a deep breath and steeled her nerves.

Having made herself as comfortable as possible, she started talking. She could have recounted the events of the day, abstaining from all the details that led her to that moment, yet that wasn’t the case. For whatever reason, she was compelled to start from the very beginning, back when she’d unintentionally transformed herself into a mare, and so that’s where she began.

Leech listened with rapt attention, happily noshing away at her vittles while only asking the occasional question, as the exterior grew dark. As the tale came to a conclusion, catching the unicorn up on the last two months’ of her guest’s past, she put away her food, lit a hoofful of candles, and dusted her hooves.

“I gotta say, I’ve heard some weird shit before, but that’s one heck of a story,” Leech chuckled, tossing the then dried scarf over.

“Yeah,” Fenris murmured, catching the garment. “I just don’t know what I can do. As much I hate it, a part of me loves the way my Master treats me…”

“If only a part of you loves being used, why don’t you just remove that part?” the unicorn glibly inquired, fluffing a threadbare pillow.

Squinting over at her host, Fenris cocked her head to the side. “What?”

The mare shrugged and flopped onto the dried grass, looking over at the pegasus. “Ya know - just remove the cum-slut part of you. If you can work magic like you say you can, it shouldn’t be that hard to pull off.”

Fenris liked to consider herself as relatively intelligent, but the concept of segregating and removing a portion of herself had never occurred to her. In theory, the process could be done, seeing as how it wasn’t much different than instilling certain lewd notions or affinities into somepony. With her mind ablaze, having been handed a solution to her depraved situation on a silver platter, she rushed out of the shelter and into the night and came to a screeching halt some dozen yards away.

“Leech,” she shouted, peering over her shoulder. 

The quirky little unicorn’s head appeared from behind the curtained doorway, peeking out at her. “Did my place smell that bad?”

Turning in place, Fenris beamed. “You gonna be around these parts for a while?”

“Probably? I don’t fucking know, I just go wherever whenever,” Leech shot back, stepping out of her hovel. “Why?”

“If you stay here for a few days, I’ll come visit,” the pegasus yelled, extending her wings and taking to the sky.

Watching her guest depart, Leech waved. “Only if you bring me dinner!”

Grinning from ear to ear, feeling better than she had in ages, Fenris sailed away from the bridge and back to town. She had a long night ahead of her, there were rituals and incantations to prepare, and that was on top of having to service Pixel in the morning and likely before he went to bed, but she was filled with a righteous determination. It may have been crazy, but the strange little tramp may have solved her life’s biggest problem and potentially provided her with an invaluable asset…
> Epilogue (Bad Ending)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fenris twisted her head, as her ears swiveled to the sound of approaching hooves. She could barely move, nor could she see at all, yet she was without fear or concern - hell, the words barely meant anything to her anymore. Listening to her guests approaching, she splayed her hind legs and opened her drooling muzzle.

Resting with her back atop a padded rest, with her limbs lashed to anchors in the ceiling, she wantonly sniffed the air and waited. She knew the routine all too well, with the same scenario play out every night for what felt like years, yet it still thrilled her to no end. Feeling a pair of hooves slam to either side of her chest, she craned her neck and extended her tongue.

Without any warning or preamble, the stallion bucked his hips and plunged his cock down her awaiting gullet. Her lips wrapped around his instantly pistoning length, a choked groan escaped her, and her pulse began to race. If she’d been able to rub herself, she would have furiously masturbated while getting her throat swabbed - as things were, like the good little bitch she was, she was left to ache and long for relief.

At some point, Pixel had decided to use her particular skills to bolster his income and offset the costs of caring for her - as such, he’d rented a house with a cellar for them. She’d initially thought that having a new home with more space would be a luxury, but her dreams of a brighter future had faded as soon as the renovations for the basement had finished. Though it felt like it had been a lifetime, she couldn’t have held her current living conditions for more than a few months - possibly a year or so at most.

Her life was a simple one, though she’d adapted to it easily enough. Throughout the night, she entertained clients who paid her Master an undisclosed amount of money to use her. More often than not, she was bound on or against a piece of furniture, oftentimes in a compromising position, and she was fucked by creatures who sought relief. She liked to think that they came to her because she was better than their wives or marefriends, but the specifics didn’t matter. She was a living, breathing sex-toy, and that’s all she was.

Saliva crept down her face and beneath the blindfold, smearing against her eyes, as the stallion increased his pace. Judging from pony’s strong scent, lack of endurance, and the particularly heavy hooffalls, she’d guess that he was a bit overweight and more than likely inexperience with sexual matters - in fact, she may very well be his first time with amare. Lashing his length with her tongue, sensing her neck bulge from his flaring cock-head, she eagerly awaited her breakfast.

“F…fuck,” he grunted above her, hilting her muzzle and unloading his essence down her esophagus.

The poor guy really must have been pent up, because it felt like he dumped damn near a pint into her belly. It was a bit of a shame that he hadn’t fucked her properly, but she wasn’t bothered in the slightest - after all, the night was young and she’d undoubtedly have more visitors arriving soon. Mopping his shaft with her lips, ensuring his dick was cleaner than when he’d first arrived, she dutifully swallowed the dregs of his deposit and lifted her head.

“Thank you, Sir,” she murmured, looking in his direction.

He didn’t say a word to acknowledge her, instead turning and trotting across the room and up the stairwell. It wasn’t all that common for clients to speak with her, seeing as how they hadn’t paid for conversation, although she would occasionally get the chatty guest. Regardless of whether she was bound or gagged, she did everything in her power to ensure creatures left her chamber satisfied.

A peculiar click-clack caught her ear, giving her a moment for pause. Unable to see, she held her breath and listened intently. Whoever or whatever was approaching definitely wasn’t a pony, having both an odd gate and lack of hooves, yet it made little difference. Licking her lips and wriggling in place, getting as comfortable as she could, she hoped that her next guest - no, guests wouldn’t leave without plowing her winking, slack marehood.

“Dude, they weren’t kidding,” a voice noted from near the doorway.

The sound of talons on concrete continued, two sets of two, as a second, markedly deep chuckle cut through the air. “Told ya. Go ahead and fuck the shit out of her, it’s my treat.”

“Fuck yeah,” the first joyously whopped, scampering closer and to her lower half.

Attempting to puzzle out what she was dealing with, Fenris shivered when a claw stroked her cheek. She’d serviced all sorts of beasts since Pixel had started his little business with her, entertaining everything from minotaurs and hippogriffs to diamond dogs and abyssinian, but being blinded left her at a clear disadvantage. Opening her mouth and lolling out her tongue, fully expecting the creature before her to make use of her snout, she shivered as the talon crept over her lip.

“You remember me?” the sonorous but mysterious stranger inquired, sending a shiver up her spine.

His tone and claws reminded her of a particularly savage experience she’d had a week or two prior - one involving a ruthless and sadistic griffon. Her injuries from that night had healed, her depths had regained a bit of their tautness, and her voice had eventually returned - still, merely remembering that night was almost enough to make her climax on the spot. While most of her guests treated her like an object, there weren’t many who actively tried to break her.

“Y…yes, Sir,” she whispered, turning her head to suck his digit.

“Good,” he chuckled, running the needle-like tip of his claw over her tongue. “That’s my little brother who’s about to have some fun with you. If you’re smart, you’ll milk his knot like your life depended on it ~ if you don’t, well, let’s just say that last time will feel like a warmup round…”

Before the subtle threat had even been completed, the second, much more exuberant visitor reared back, grabbed Fenris’ suspended fetlocks, and slipped into her awaiting marehood. She trembled, clenching around the spear-like length as he drove into her depths. The sensation of being filled, even if he wasn’t the biggest suitor she’d had, was enough to make her whimper aloud.

“You’re gonna take good care of him, right?” the beast at her head snarled, freeing his hand and wrapping his fingers around her throat.

Squirming in place, she constricted her well-trained snatch as hard as she possibly could. “Y…yesh,” she slurred, barely able to breathe.

Relaxing his grip and stepping away, the griffon menacingly snickered. “Good. Now then, since I’ve made myself painfully clear, put your mouth to use and warm me up. After my brother has had his fill with you, I think I’ll ruin your ass for anyone else tonight.”

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, thrilled and fearful to have her backside knotted by someone so massive, she parted her lips and awaited his not insubstantial endowment. If nothing else, having her face fucked would make milking the brute’s sibling a bit easier - she hoped. As the huge bird-horse draped himself over her, resting his elbows on her bench to twist and cruelly pull her pierced nipples, she kissed the tip of his cock.

In spite of the early hour, with only her second and third visitors making use of her, she was already reaching her limit. Pain and pleasure coalesced into something greater, something that she couldn’t describe, as the brothers pumped their hips and pounded her holes. Like so many nights before and many nights yet to come, she slipped into a lustful haze and put her body to work.

There had been times when she’d woken up to a stallion fucking her, realizing after she’d come to that she’d been subconsciously tending to their needs. She’d read that if somepony did something for long enough, they’d be capable of moving without thought. She honestly wasn’t sure of exactly when she’d attained such a skill, yet the realization that she had brought with it a profound truth.

She was and would forever be a plaything for males, regardless of their species, and that revelation brought with it an inner peace like she’d never known. While she couldn’t speak for every mare in the world, she was content with the niche that had been carved for her, and she’d do everything in her power, for as long as she possibly could, to fulfill her purpose. Between her knowledge of the arcane, the veritable pantheon of potions available in Equestria, and the eldritch horrors that haunted the ether between planes, she’d find or make a way to be of use.

“How is it?” the behemoth rumbled, nonchalantly rutting her snout.

“It’s - Nnnph - it’s fuckin great,” the younger griffon ecstatically replied, fucking away with reckless abandon. “I wish we could bring her home with us.”

Forcing his knot between her straining jaws, while heartlessly wrenching on her teats, the titan ominously snickered. “It, Avis, not her.”

“Well its pussy is amazing,” Avis responded.

The cock cleared Fenris’ muzzle, the griffon dismounted, and a hot breath blew across her nose, before her blindfold was pulled from her face. Though the world appeared upside down, she found herself staring into a pair of heavily lidded, sinister eyes. The beast was just as imposing and threatening as his voice sounded, but she couldn’t help but feel a certain thrill from finally seeing him.

“Well,” he continued, impassively studying her, “maybe the nice kirin upstairs would let us take it home, since we had to get rid of our last one.” Drawing one talon up her throat, pressing the tip into her yielding flesh, he smiled. “Would you like that?”

Fear and excitement surged through her veins, as she nodded. “Yes…Master.”

The corners of his beak turned up, his claw bit into her skin, and a baleful look adored his features, as he locked eyes with her. “Good…”