My already dreadful treatment has just worsened. In keeping with the Caribou’s revolting treatment of mares and the violation of our rights, my cutie mark has been defaced. After another one of Anvari’s appalling training sessions I had the displeasure of meeting another one of Dainn’s deplorable ilk; an enormous brute of a bull called Durnir. He is an older male as evidenced by his greying hair, wrinkled face and rotund stomach, but is powerfully built with very muscular arms as a result of his position as the Caribou’s head iron smith. To my dismay and despite my protests, I was dragged out of the castle and forced into a cage, after which I was carted off into the city.
What I saw filled me with grief, for my loyal subjects and what Canterlot was becoming - a seedy hub of perverted activity no better than a common brothel. Stallions, now seemingly all converted to the Caribou cause, were wantonly abusing mares in the streets without a care for public decency. Shops that once sold beautiful artisan crafts had been converted into sex shops, their female owners undoubtedly enslaved and serving as some male’s personal toy. Statues celebrating Equestrian prosperity and liberty had been despoiled and knocked off their steles, making way for obscene sculptures extolling the so-called virtues of male domination. And where the banners representing a free, wonderful Equestria once hung I saw the flags of the new regime - my Sun and Luna’s Moon, in chains.
As we approached the central square the crowds thickened. The Caribou had clearly been preparing this event for some time, and the populace had been made aware. The rambunctious crowd was mostly composed of converted stallions eagerly anticipating my first public appearance in months, as well as mares that were forced to watch the proceedings. The horrified looks on some of their faces were gut-wrenching - clearly, I was being made an example of to lower their morale, for the purpose of pushing them closer to submission. How I wish I could have soothed their worries and fears, and encouraged them to be proud and defiant in the face of the enemy! Not being able to help my ponies in these dark times is perhaps my greatest regret, and something I hope to be able to make up to them in the near future.
Once we arrived at a raised wooden framework Durnir roughly grabbed me by the collar, forced a large rubber bit into my mouth and dragged me onto the podium. I was made to face the piercing gaze of the crowd as he held my arms firmly locked behind my back, spouting his crude rhetoric to make sure everyone knew the current state of affairs. I was stripped of my title of princess in a farcical ceremony, and my status was publicly affirmed as that of a sex slave, a mere beast to be turned into Dainn’s personal cock sleeve. To add insult to injury, the Caribou also stripped me of my name. Instead of Celestia, I am now addressed as “Sun Slut”, a denigrating pet name apparently of the king’s choosing.
Hearing my formerly loyal subjects jeering me and happily chanting my new “name”…cut deeply. But my heart sank even further when I heard Durnir’s gruff voice announcing that, as the king’s property, I was to be branded with his mark. I shrieked, panicking as I saw a guard carrying two branding irons onto the stage and placing them into a fire. But no matter how hard I kicked and struggled, I could not break Durnir’s hold on me. Within moments, I felt the sharp edge of his hoof driving itself into the back of my knee. As I fell forwards the bull shoved me face first into the wooden boards of the scaffold. I screamed and protested as a spreader bar was affixed to my ankles, preventing me from protecting my dignity; my arms were then forced below my body and shackled at the wrists, contorting my body into an uncomfortable and humiliating position.
I struggled against my bonds, fueled by panic, anger and fear. My eyes flitted from the fire to the crowd, imploring them for help, but I was met only by the sneering faces of those eager to see the spectacle play out. Durnir roughly grabbed my tail, lifting and tying it up with rope to expose my most sacred parts to the populace before giving my rear a couple of hard slaps, to the delight of the populace. Moments later I felt the all too familiar sensation of my enchanted toy being forced inside me. I was soon dripping with heat, something the stallions in the front rows were keen to point out - and left to await my fate.
The preparations were followed by a slave auction officially celebrating my and my sister’s fall, as well as the “liberation” of Equestria’s stallions from our “deception” at the hands of Dainn. Being restrained as I was I could only catch glimpses of the females they paraded in front of the boisterous masses, but it disheartened me to see mares from all over Equestria, as well as zebras, buffalos and griffons, all stripped naked, collared and in chains, a sign that Caribou power now stretches across the land. The auctioneer quickly whipped the crowd into a frenzy, extolling the exoticness and uniqueness of the selection of slaves now pouring into the capital. All of the females I saw bore marks of brutal abuse; many bore whip marks, piercings, tattoos and brands to indicate their new stations in life. One by one they were forced to face the throng of lusty stallions as they shouted their offers. The event had nothing of a civilized auction - it was a debauched meat market, involving shouting and fighting, with the winning bidder often climbing onto the platform to drag away his unwilling prize.
When the Caribou had finally run out of their supply of fresh slaves, the moment I had been dreading arrived. Durnir, to a huge roar of the crowd, announced that the main event was about to start. I felt my heart race like never before. I struggled wildly against my bonds as the savage took the now glowing-hot branding iron out of the fire. My screams of rage were drowned out by the chanting of the crowd, calling for their fallen goddess to receive their new ruler’s mark. My anger soon turned to fear as I saw the sadistic brute calmly walk by me, seemingly delighting in my helplessness. I felt the heat of the branding iron on my skin as it approached me. It was a horrible moment of sheer panic - I desperately tried to break free, hoping that the adrenalin would somehow give me enough strength to break my chains, but it was to no avail. Moments later I felt the burning touch of branding iron, being pressed against my right cutie mark.
It was horrible. Searing pain instantly radiated from my flank. I screamed in agony, as Durnir held that horrible torture instrument against my skin for what seemed like an eternity. When he finally pulled the iron away it left a black chain mark covering my Sun, a permanent reminder of my enslavement under Caribou rule. What used to be a sign of pride, a show of my special talent, has now been defaced, perverted forever into a symbol of my bondage. It is the most grievous of insults, and one I fear I will have to bear for the rest of my days - a point that Durnir was quick to drive home. I could barely contain my anger, both at treatment and at my own powerlessness to stop it. I only just managed to suppress the tears welling up in my eyes - I was not going to give the barbaric monster the pleasure of seeing me cry.
After a brief inspection of his work he stepped away, heading for the second branding iron that was being prepared for my left flank. The crowd roared at seeing my new cutie mark but I disregarded them, already fearing my second branding. Having experienced this appalling torture once only made the anticipation worse. I wrenched my eyes shut, feeling my pulse racing as Durnir calmly pulled the iron out of the fire, and approached my left side. I bit down hard on my bit, trying to focus on my breathing, anything to try and take my attention away from the imminent pain.
It made little difference. I shrieked as I felt the iron sear my left cutie mark like the first, leaving a perfectly mirrored, chained Sun as Durnir pulled it away. After making sure he carried out his task properly, cold water was dumped over my rear and a healing salve rubbed into my skin, which thankfully eased the burning pain. The Caribou brute meanwhile turned to the onlookers, announcing with a booming voice:
“Behold Canterlot, your “princess”, Sun Slut! Let it be known that this cunt, bearing King Dainn’s mark, is our lord’s personal property! Her fate is to be broken, to submit to our dominion, and to be trained into finest of slaves! Rejoice, for the day will soon come when she will happily satisfy all of your sexual needs in atonement for her sins!”
The males present once again roared with delight. For the first time I actually longed to be in my cell, away from the cheers, insults, and utter humiliation. But as I have come to expect from my captors, no celebration of theirs is complete without debauchery; it wasn’t long before Durnir removed the toy from me in preparation of my continued defilement. The fiendish enchantment had now completely run its course and I was soaked with heat, winking and squirting involuntarily at any sexual stimulus. The bull clearly enjoyed showing me off to the crowd, calling me a common whore and using my forced state arousal as an absurd justification for turning me into their sex slave. A shiver ran down my spine as he turned back to me. I can only describe the look on his face as one of unbridled, animalistic desire, like a wild stag in the height of the rut. He grunted like some savage beast, his nostrils flaring as he tore his loin cloth away, baring his member to me.
He was massive. Larger than any stallion or bull I have ever had. His rapidly engorging rod slid from his sheath, reaching full erection as he strode towards me. I shrieked, redoubling my efforts to break free of my chains - but to no avail. I soon felt Durnir’s enormous girth pushing against my most sacred orifice - and plunging itself inside me. I strained to take his penis, but he disregarded my discomfort completely. The antlered monster forced himself down my well-lubricated vagina, hilting himself with his first thrust. He used me like a mere cock sleeve, powerfully slamming his hips against mine without any care for my well-being or enjoyment. And yet…I was dismayed to find that the feeling of his colossal length thrusting in and out of me felt…intensely pleasurable. Once again, I was unable to control my traitorous body; moans soon started slipping from my lips, and I felt myself tensing up as I neared the edge - a fact that did not escape Durnir’s attention. He goaded me, increasing his rhythm and calling on me to cum before my ponies, to show them the slut I am becoming.
Despite my desperate attempts to contain myself, I am ashamed to report that I lost myself to pleasure…multiple times. Each time I squirted my shameful fluids across the scaffold, the stallions jeered and roared - and yet the beast kept pumping himself inside me. With every climax I lost more and more control; the voices of Durnir and the the crowd dulled as I started focusing more on the incredible feeling of the bull’s member inside my pussy. I eventually caught myself moaning coarsely into my bit with wanton pleasure, and only regained my senses when I finally felt the tip of his penis flaring as he approached orgasm. He groaned loudly to wild cheers of the crowd, injecting his disgusting filth inside me with each forceful thrust of his hips. His excess load spilled from me as he pulled himself from me at long last, leaving me trembling with pleasure in my enhanced state of excitement.
The way I lost myself to lust was greatly disturbing. Although I have become begrudgingly familiar with my magically induced state of heat and been forced to climax many times, never before have I…indulged in it like I did today. It was somehow…deeper than just carnal pleasure. For a brief moment, I realized that I was truly enjoying the domination, the humiliation, being used like a sex toy in front of my former subjects. It cannot be the result of my training. I am a princess of Equestria, dignified and proper; I refuse to believe these cruel tyrants are starting to succeed in twisting me into the harlot and slave they want me to become. I must keep rationalizing my behavior to keep myself sane - I fear that allowing myself to be overcome by my induced feelings of lust will only lead to a slippery slope that only furthers the Caribou’s cause.
Regardless of my state of distress and confusion, my ordeal was not yet over. Addressing the populace once again, Durnir declared my body free for public use until each stallion was sated, as a start of my penance. The guttural roars were deafening. Males started climbing onto the scaffold from all sides like savage beasts blinded by desire, abandoning what little dignity they had left. Those that still wore their trousers struggled to take them off in their rush, many stumbling as they raced forward; those that had been enjoying the proceedings naked had their erections on fully display.
I don’t know how many stallions had their way with me. They were too numerous to count, swarming around me like ravenous timberwolves smelling wounded prey. It was horrifying to see the crazed, lustful look on their faces. These were ponies who just months before had been kind, law-abiding citizens, corrupted into sex-crazed monsters focussed solely on claiming a prize normally far beyond their reach. As soon as a cock throbbed and emptied its load inside me, another immediately took its place. At times impatient stallions could not contain themselves, forcing themselves inside me before the other had finished. Many that had already their blown their loads would return to gleefully stroke themselves at my degradation, covering my body with their thick bodily fluids. The orgy was a blur of stallions, cocks and sperm, and I was brought to climax repeatedly, to the great delight of everypony involved. Thankfully I eventually blacked out after a particularly intense orgasm, but I doubtlessly continued to be violated until the crowd had been sated.
———
I was brought to by a bucket of cold water being dumped over me. I found myself back at the castle, being bathed in the fountain once again. I was filthy, exhausted and sore, but relieved to find myself in the relative safety of the palace walls. However, when I returned to my cell I was dismayed to find out I am now to be kept in a metal cage. With the Caribou deciding I have had enough time to learn basic slave manners, I am now to start my training in earnest. I have been placed in the care, if it can be called that, of Dainn’s master of beasts. His name is Hrathr, and he is apparently experienced in the taming and domestication of the various creatures that roam the Caribou’s former lands. He assessed my physical qualities as a mare and evaluated the progress of my training through some quick commands and taunts, smiling with glee whenever I snapped back at him. The disgusting thug didn’t even bother treating me as a proper pony, instead talking down to me as if I were a mere beast. He made it clear that I will from now on be seen as such, boasting that he had trained many females into willing, obedient pets and warning me that I will not be an exception.
I was locked in my cage for the night, where for the first time after all this time, I curled up and silently wept. The months of brutal rape and training I could bear, but being branded like cattle in front of my ponies, renamed with an obscene slave name, treated like an animal and kept in a small cage…the utter wretchedness of my situation was overbearing. No help has been forthcoming, nor have I had any indication that the Caribou are being pushed back by rebellions and active resistance; with no sign of relief it is becoming clear that my ponies will suffer under our oppressors’ yoke for a long time to come.
When I heard Iron Lance approaching my cell I collected myself, and awaited his entry by bowing as submissively as I could. He quickly noticed my sullen demeanor and surprisingly tried to console me - perhaps his old personality is still in there somehow. He opened my cage and hugged me tightly, petting my mane and comforting me in an attempt to lift me from my stupor. It was tempting to rebuke him when he told me it was part of my training, that the anger would soon make way for acceptance, and that it would make me a better slave. But I gritted my teeth and managed to keep up the ploy, responding that I understood and playing it off as the frustrations of a fresh cunt not yet understanding her place.
It sickened me to speak those words, but my act seems to have earned me his favor. To cheer me up, Iron Lance revealed he had smuggled in a slice of cake hidden underneath one of the plate covers. Although in keeping with my new life as an animal, he made me eat it without the use of my hands, he at least presented it on a plate rather than making me eat it off the floor. I was...grateful for his gift. To finally taste something other than that terrible, bland mare kibble was heavenly. I savored every last crumb of it, shamelessly licking my plate and lips until I finished all of it.
Iron Lance delighted in this, commending me for what he saw as me starting to embrace my fate. Whether he just attempted to lift my spirits from his warped point of view I do not know, but I did understand he would be expecting to be thanked for his effort. Due to my recent ordeal I was sore to say the least, but fortunately he seemed to be satisfied with me pleasuring him orally.
I will admit I am not the most skilled with my tongue, having often shied away from this more...inappropriate way of making love in the past. I had to force myself to overcome my revulsion and took the initiative, crawling over to him and rubbing my cheek across his loins to make my intentions known.
I barely needed to beg to be allowed to thank him for my treat. I could feel his pants bulge, and as soon as I pulled them down was greeted by his sweaty, pheromone-laden musk. The last thing I wanted after being thoroughly abused all day was to stick my nose in another stallion’s crotch, and I just barely managed to hide my disgust.
I tentatively licked his testicles and stroked his stiffening rod based on what little experience I have. Perhaps it was his excitement at having a princess sucking his cock, but it wasn’t long before he reached full mast. He moaned loudly as I took his member into my mouth, bobbing my head up and down rather awkwardly while using my hands in the hope of compensating for my perceived lack of skill.
Luckily Iron Lance doesn’t seem to have the greatest stamina, and it wasn’t too long before I felt his tip starting to flare. He groaned loudly with pleasure, pulling himself from my mouth before furiously stroking himself to climax while grabbing hold of my mane. I obediently knelt before him, keeping my mouth open as he unleashed load after load onto my face. After he finally finished ejaculating I swallowed what semen I could lick up with my tongue. I barely managed to keep it down, hiding my gag reflex by bowing deeply before the stallion, and thanking him for using me.
For a moment I thought Iron Lance would admonish me for my poor performance, but fortunately he seems to be buying into my ploy. He encouraged me to continue my training, calling me one of the most promising sex slaves he had seen, before coaxing me back into my cage. He then retired for the night...forgetting to lock the cage door. Unfortunately my cell door was secured as usual, but I was grateful not to have to spend the night caged like some feral beast.
My encounter with Iron Lance gave me renewed hope after a truly miserable day. The plan is working. If I can somehow entice Iron Lance to stay the night, surely the opportunity will arise to steal his keys and escape from this prison. My ponies are resisting, I am sure of it. If I can meet up with them, surely we will be able to wrest back Equestria from these savages and cleanse the land of their foul corruption. I will free my sister and restore our rightful rule. Then those vile barbarians will face justice for what they did to me and every mare they ever enslaved.
- Princess Celestia