With my basic training, evaluation and imprinting completed in preparation for the second phase of my training, I have resumed my reeducation under the tutelage of Hrathr, the Caribou beast master. He is a tall, older bull, as evidenced by his balding head and wrinkles around his eyes. His look is distinctive amongst his kind - his lifetime of experience in the taming of animals is evident from his broken antler and many scars, which appear to be bite and claw marks. Most prominent is a scar running across his left eye, an injury which has left him blinded. It is clear that this disability has not prevented him from performing his role within the Caribou hierarchy however. By his hand the ferocious war beasts were successfully incorporated into their ranks, resulting in a great increase in military strength. Likewise, I have seen strange, lumbering creatures serve as pack animals, and smaller dog-like creatures being used for their guarding instinct; who knows what other beasts and…things this monster of a bull has managed to domesticate. His skills aren’t limited to just creatures either, as I have had the misfortune to experience. Cows and mares alike have fallen victim to his foul training methods, which focus on bestializing a slave, modifying behavior and submitting her to harsh training, twisting her until she acts like and sees herself as a tamed animal.
It is to this horrid treatment that I have been subjected in recent days. When Dainn called me an animal and his “pet”, I initially assumed it was a figure of speech, a demeaning epithet. I thought being made to crawl and eat from the ground was just a perverted custom to humiliate a vanquished leader. Perhaps it was naiveté, but now I realize how literally the king meant his words, and how far the Caribou would take their training. Instead of forcing me to perform some ritual play, my training aims to permanently turn me into an animal in every conceivable way. To become Dainn’s tamed sex pet, my perception of myself and my place in the world, my behavior and the way I interact with others, even my likes and preferences are to be twisted into that of the most submissive, base animal imaginable. How the Caribou can treat mares this way, and how they ever developed such a depraved culture I cannot comprehend.
Every day in preparation for my training, I am forced into a perverse “outfit” of sorts to better immerse me in my new station in life. A tight-fitting, black latex hood is pulled over my head, leaving only my eyes and muzzle exposed; next I am made to wear strange, arm-length gloves. They are fingerless, making my fingers curl up inside into a dog’s “paw”; my legs are given similar treatment and fitted with thigh-high leather boots. My tail is then wrapped at the dock to prevent me from covering my dignity, and two toys are subsequently inserted into my crotch and rear. To hold these in place I am strapped into a micro slingshot bikini, with straps so narrow they barely cover my nipples and effectively leave my pussy exposed. Although I am in a way glad to finally be allowed to some form of clothing after all these months, the scandalous garment’s purpose is clearly to sexualize my body and make me look like a common harlot.
To complete the “look”, a dog leash is then clipped to my collar, and I am led into a specially fitted room to start my training under Hrathr’s watchful eye. What had originally been one of our wine cellars had now been expanded and converted into a pet exercise area, outfitted with the various equipment one would expect to find at dog shows: chutes, jump bars, raised walks and ladders, funnels and the like. Chains and leashes hung from the walls along with a variety of whips, crops and paddles; on the shelves I saw several indecently-shaped dog toys besides a selection of dildos and vibrators that seem ubiquitous in the Caribou training methods. Bags of kibble were stacked up in a corner alongside various cages, dog beds and bowls - I counted eight, presumably meaning there are other mares sharing my abysmal fate. The center of the room is an open space ideal for teaching “behavioral adjustments”; as untrained pet, most of my time is spent in this area.
Every morning I am let out of my cage and required to deeply bow before Hrathr, lowering my head to the ground and raising my rear and tail while I salute him as “master”. He then asks me to recite my name and position, to which I am to reply:
“My name is Sun Slut, Master Hrathr. I am Master Dainn’s personal sex slave, a worthless cunt to be trained into his obedient fuck pet.”
This admission is more than I can stomach, and I resist uttering it until I can take no more of that infernal rod torturing my wings. It seems impossible to outlast Hrathr’s patience - no matter how long it takes, he promptly and consistently applies punishment until he coerces me into reciting the answer he wants. My position has been made crystal clear - I am now to be considered to be a mere beast, by others and myself, and as such I am below even other slaves. The savage delights in driving this point home, referring to me as a “bitch” rather than a mare, amongst other demeaning names. As an animal there are strict rules for me to follow, specifically designed strip me of any form of dignity and civilized behavior.
I am explicitly forbidden to walk upright at all times; instead Hrathr obliges me to crawl on my hands and knees while he drags me around by my leash. To enforce this fundamental behavior my boots were infused with rune magic, and cause severe discomfort anytime I try to stand up. Speaking is now strictly controlled, and only allowed when I am spoken to. Instead, I am mostly confined to body language, being required to catch my trainer’s attention by rubbing by body up against his leg, wagging my tail to show “delight” and spreading my legs in various shameful positions to “beg” for sex.
The slightest attempt at resistance or refusal to perform a task demanded of me is met with a horrible electric shock from my collar. How the Caribou’s infernal rune magic works I do not completely understand, but Hrathr’s broken antler seemingly doesn’t prevent him from using it to the fullest effect. Compliance is met with the sound of a clicker, a training device usually used to teach dogs that they have satisfactorily completed a task - a fact which Hrathr made me all too aware of. This is coupled with the immediate activation of my vibrators, forcing me to climax repeatedly. Every orgasm is promptly met with a approving pat on my head, along the words:
“Good girl.”
It is a simple principle, a teaching method based on stimulus, response and reward usually reserved for working with animals. Being trained as such is intensely humiliating, and to my horror, also incredibly effective. Despite my best efforts to resist the effects, Hrathr has within a short period of time managed to condition me to associate the sound of the clicker with pleasure. The click, being called a good girl, the buzzing sound of my toys administering my reward for being an obedient pet…I’m finding my body is almost anticipating the impending climax. I’m doing everything I can to not give the savage the pleasure of seeing his fiendish methods take their desired effect, but my ragged breathing, copious squirting and winking cannot have gone unnoticed.
The humiliation of being treated like some feral beast is unbearable. The first days were seemingly endless sessions involving strict discipline, meant to ingrain the basics of my behavioral adjustments. The training was rigorous, and I spent hours at a time just crawling, obeying commands and debasing myself. The pain and fear of punishment soon caused my vigorous resistance to make way for begrudging compliance, if only to avoid the excruciating shocks; it wasn’t long before I found myself crawling behind my trainer, desperately trying to keep up with him as I was made to cum as a reward. The grueling pace was only interrupted by feeding time, which the Caribou have managed to turn into another appalling ritual.
Three times a day, I am fed my disgusting mare kibble, which is unceremoniously dumped into my dog bowl. At no point am I allowed any sort of dignity, and am forced to eat without the use of my hands like an animal. Needless to say I greatly preferred it when these villains just threw my food on the floor. To wash it down I am given water, but am forced to suck it out of obscene, cock-shaped water dispensers. Despite my revolting treatment, I am not going hungry or thirsty. Physically at least I am kept in good condition, if only to better serve my oppressors sexually.
Every night I am stripped of my garments, and forced into a full body, rubber suit. Only my nostrils, mouth and genitals are left open; a hood fully covers my head, taking away my vision and dulling my hearing. Before I am finally allowed some rest, three dildos are inserted into my holes. They aren’t ordinary sex toys however - instead, they are life-like replicas of Dainn’s cock. To my dismay, I can tell. Every vein, bump and ridge is present, the tip has just the right amount of flare, and somehow they had managed to infuse it with his taste and scent. The full effect of my imprinting has become clear to me. All the powerful emotions and sensations I had felt are immediately brought to the fore, and when the first toy is slipped down my throat I find myself greedily taking it in, suckling on this…glorious cock like it was that of a long yearned-for lover.
With the dildo in my mouth secured, Hrathr’s attention then turns to the remaining openings in my suit. Two more toys, identical to the first, are inserted into my pussy and rear. Feeling Dainn’s member enter me, rubbing along my clitoris…by the Sun there isn’t a more pleasurable sensation I know of. Even though I know I should be loving none of this, I am powerless stop it. It is an instinctive, primal reaction. Dainn, this degenerate monster, is twisting me, perverting me…and I am loath to admit, slowly succeeding. With every day the craving for his cock intensifies, and I have to repress my urge to offer my mouth and sex for their insertion. Once all of my holes are filled, my arms are restrained behind my back and my ankles shackled to my wrists; in this totally helpless position I am caged, forced to await the continuation of my training.
This cycle continued for days, and after about a week of basic training I was exhausted. I was tired, irritated and humiliated - but each outburst, each time I lashed out at the Caribou beast master in frustration I was summarily punished, and pushed even harder. Once I had learned to crawl, feed and obey to Hrathr’s satisfaction my training progressed to the next phase; I now had the displeasure of being taught my first tricks.
Sitting is similar to the hateful submissive pose, except that I am required to set my legs further apart and place my “paws” in between my knees. Learning how to lay down was the next step, involving laying my body prone on the floor like a dog. Rolling from side to side was next, along with being taught the “spread” command - laying on my back while spreading my legs and bending my knees towards my shoulders, all the while keeping my paws curled as if I were a dog. Under the threat of punishment I was made to perform these tricks over and over again, day after day. I smelled like some feral beast, filthy and languishing in her cage at night, fearful of what the next day might bring.
—————
To my surprise, my hood was removed by Iron Lance this morning. Waking up to seeing his warm, caring eyes instead of Hrathr’s condescending glare was a welcome relief. He gave me a quick scratch behind the ear before removing the dildo embedded in my mouth, telling me how proud he was of the progress I had made since my enslavement. Swallowing my pride, I thanked him as he stripped me of my latex prison, offering my body to him by rubbing my breasts sensually up his body. Not being able to resist he fondled my chest, before reaching down to finger my pussy as I let out the sluttiest moan I could muster - but he soon withdrew, telling me it was time for some cleaning and grooming.
After not being washed for what seemed like an eternity, the notion of a bath was heavenly. But as Iron Lance led me into the castle gardens it became clear that my relatively pleasant fountain baths were a thing of the past. Various prominent Canterlot stallions were seated in a semi-circle, their hapless slaves sitting at their hooves. I clearly wasn’t the only one being turned into an animal - these unlucky mares shared my wretched fate, and were in the midst of their undoubtedly extensive training to become slave pets or serve as cattle. I recognized many of them - Upper Crust and Hashwhinny were designated bitches, being forced to sit in the dog-like pose all too familiar to me. The former pop stars Sapphire Shores and Coloratura now sported enormous racks rivaling my own; their ear tags, brands, tattooed registration numbers and nose rings signaling their station in life as dairy cattle.
Fleetfoot and Spoiled Rich shared an equally miserable fate, being strapped in front of a cart and used as beasts of burden. Both wore heavy leather horse tack, sporting bits, bridles, eye blinders, harnesses and thigh-high boots; their arms were contorted behind their backs, forcing them to proudly display out their prominent chests. There were many others, some unicorn mares that had once attended my academy, pegasi who had aspired to become Wonderbolts, and earth ponies who once enjoyed Canterlot’s high life. These were formerly prominent members of Equestrian society, ponies my sister and I once entertained at audiences and galas. Now fallen from grace, they were nothing but lowly slaves, livestock to be worked as their masters see fit.
The black collars looked absolutely shattered upon seeing their princess crawl into their midst like a chained animal. I would have condemned the Caribou for our subjugation if not for the presence of Iron Lance. My ruse of appearing like a well-adjusted slave had to be upheld for my escape plan to work. Letting my loyal subjects see me acting like an obedient pet was gut-wrenching and no doubt crushed their hope somewhat - I just hope I will soon be able to make up for my mistakes and wrongs. Many of the red collars however, from their warped point of view, seemed to approve of our treatment; the stallions were particularly excited at seeing the royal pet put in her place for the first time.
Instead of having two attendants washing my body with sponges, I was made to climb a pet grooming table by a stallion named Silver Shears. He was a gruff working class pony, who before the Fall of Canterlot used to be a dog groomer for the rich and famous; once the opportunity arose he seized his chance, taking some of the mares he once served as his slaves. Iron Lance tied my leash to the metal arm of the table, pulling it so short that I was forced to hold my head up high and face the crowd. Silver Shears was clearly used to working with trained pets, rudely commanding:
“Stack, cunt!”
Letting this uncouth oaf order me around, let alone touch me was an unappealing prospect to say the least. Humiliating as it was, I had a part to play; in response I arched my lower back like I had been trained to do, lifting my tail and exposing my shame for all to see. I loathed the stallions’ response, many of which applauded Hrathr’s training and amused that “the whore princess is being turned into a slavish bitch”. Despite the plentiful insults they hurled at me, I felt pity rather than hate for them. It has become clear to me that these stallions were corrupted, their base instincts amplified to twist them into sex-obsessed fiends - something that I myself have the misfortune of experiencing. I wondered if the corruption could somehow be undone, and Equestria cleansed from the Caribou’s blight.
My train of thought was rudely broken by the rough hands of Silver Shears inspecting me. The stallion clearly considered me nothing but a piece of meat, handling my body and checking my folds like I was an object rather than a person.
“She’s filthy, Iron Lance. Covered in sweat, matted mane and tail…hasn’t had her armpits shaved in weeks, not to mention that cunt of hers,” his brutally frank assessment sounded. “Smells like she looks too. Are you sure the king wants a revolting bitch like her as his pet?”
I would have incinerated his cock on the spot if I could. After weeks of exhausting training that last thing I needed was this dullard criticizing my looks, even more so since I no longer had control over my own grooming. My deathly glare was interrupted by Iron Lance’s reply however.
“The king trusts Lord Hrathr’s training methods above anypony else’s, Silver Shears. It is vital for her development to be made to go through this phase, in order to consolidate her new identity,” Iron Lance replied. “Due to her former position and lifestyle she retains certain undesirable notions and behaviors that need correction. Isn’t that right, Sun Slut?”
It took enormous effort to swallow my pride and fury. After a brief teeth-gnashing moment, and to the crowd’s delight, I managed to utter:
“Yes, master. I am a animal in training, and still have much to learn before I am worthy of serving Master Dainn.”
“King Dainn sees great potential in this mare, and believes that in time she will become one of Equestria’s finest submissives,” Iron Lance added, gesturing for Silver Shears to get on with his job.
With a huff the groomer unceremoniously hosed me off with cold water from head to hoof. The temperature was most disagreeable, and I attempted to back away from the water’s icy touch as soon as it hit my skin. Silver Shears took particular delight in giving me a firm slap on the rump whenever I broke my pose, pulling back my tail and watching me squirm as he washed my nethers. He worked in the manner of a crude laborer with little concern for my comfort, working quickly and roughly to thoroughly rinse off my body. My mane and tail were given similar uncaring treatment - the hose, his hands and little else.
When he was finally done the stallion turned off the faucet without as much as drying me off with a towel. He reached into a bag and revealed a razor - the time had come to be shaven, and now the purpose of my training was starting to become clear. Iron Lance untied my leash, commanding me to roll on my back and spread. I had been forced to perform this hateful trick countless of times by Hrathr, and having to display my “progress” in front of a crowd was greatly vexing. Reminding myself to calm down and keep up the ruse, I slowly leaned into my right shoulder, let myself roll over, and spread my legs as ordered. The stallions spectating this farce of a show erupted in applause and appreciation of the beast master’s training skills. The humiliation was soul-shattering - I could do little but attempt to shut out the cacophony of laughter the crowd aimed at their former princess.
“Good girl, hold still now,” sounded Iron Lance’s praise, as Silver Shears lathered shaving cream over my pubic area. In contrast to his previous crude manners he now worked carefully yet efficiently, ensuring to leave my vagina cleanly shaven as per Dainn’s preferences. After working on my underarms the stallion rinsed me off and ordered me off the table, handing my leash over to Iron Lance. I was cold and looked a mess, but at least I no longer smelt like some disgusting animal.
As I shivered at the guard’s hooves, a hush fell over the crowd. From the corner of my eye I spotted Hrathr, that most despicable of bulls, approaching us. In his hands he held two chains, attached to the collars of two mares unlucky enough to have fallen under his sway. He paid little heed to their struggle to keep up with him, striding confidently into our midst. The stallions immediately rose from their seats as a sign of respect, standing at attention; the red collar pets bowed lowly in recognition of the beast master’s authority. Many of the black collar mares, quite rightly so, refused to acknowledge the Caribou lord’s status, only to be forced to the ground by their owners. The bull walked right up to me and Iron Lance, who saluted his lord.
I was mortified when I saw his two pets, who after having finally caught up with their master took up a sitting position at his side. To Hrathr’s left sat Fluttershy, or as she is now known, Sluttershy. Her eyes opened wide in dismay and shock to see me share her fate, before realizing her position and bowing her head, undoubtedly fearing Hrathr’s corrective intervention. It was the first time since the Fall of Canterlot that I had met one of the Elements of Harmony, and seeing her red collar and wing sheaths shook me to the core. Her willing cooperation with the occupying forces was, in a way, bitterly disappointing but not surprising. Fluttershy has always been a kind soul, eager to please and unlikely to put up much of a resistance against the brute force of the Caribou. I suppose it is in her nature to submit to our oppressor’s wishes, rather than face unrelenting punishment. Yet one of my hopes is that Twilight Sparkle, my faithful student, will be able to rally the other free ponies, gather the Elements of Harmony and cleanse the Caribou taint from our lands. Although this hope has not quite been crushed, Fluttershy’s enslavement and her close association with a Caribou Lord does pose a significant obstacle to this plan.
The look on Fleur-de-Lis’ face was altogether different. She sat to Hrathr’s left, and met my stare with devious eyes, seemingly happy to see me suffering under the yoke of the Caribou and put into what she deemed to be my proper place. In her former life she had been a prominent socialite in Canterlot, but after that fateful day quickly emerged as an ardent collaborator with the new regime. Whispers I overheard on the grapevine say she played a crucial role in the assault of the city, somehow enabling the invaders to bypass our defenses, before aiding in the enslavement and subjugation of many of her fellow mares in the chaos that ensued. For her aid and willing submission she received the pet name “Suceur”, undergoing thorough training under some of the Caribou’s most prominent slave masters and becoming a symbol of subservience to red collar mares. Whether or not these rumors are true I do not know - and I did not have the opportunity to find out.
“Has this cunt been behaving herself, guard?” Hrathr asked Iron Lance as he gave me his usual condescending gaze .
“Yes, Lord Hrathr. Sun Slut has been taking to her training, and is rapidly embracing her destiny as an obedient slave. I would say it won’t be long until she rivals Lord Shining Armor’s mare,” Iron Lance replied proudly, giving me a glancing smile.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Hrathr retorted snidely, giving Iron Lance a piercing stare before turning his attention towards me. “It’s time you learnt some proper manners, bitch. I’ve brought you some well-trained examples to teach you how to behave in the presence of other beasts.”
His words filled me with dread. Evidently there was an entire set of rules and mannerisms I would be required to learn when it comes to interacting with other pets - and as the lowest of slaves, my position is that of a submissive bitch. As such I am required to assume a passive demeanor, letting others approach me while presenting myself to them. Despite the deplorable humiliation of having to engage in another show of public indecency, I could only do as told under Iron Lance’s watchful eye. At Hrathr’s command, I bowed my head, turned around and lifted my soaked tail to the side, presenting my rump to the two trained slaves. Both red collars raised their hips off the ground instantly at my cue, standing at attention on all fours.
“I see you are eager to meet another one of your fellow bitches.” Hrathr commented, giving his approval of their exuberance with a scratch behind their ears.
I looked at the girls with apprehension. Fluttershy eyed me up lustfully, wagging her tail in a humiliating show of excitement. Fleur-de-Lis played her part perfectly, pulling on her chain and whining like a dog to be allowed to greet me. Their breathing was ragged with anticipation, and they hung their tongues out of their mouths as they panted like animals. Clear fluids splattering on the ground between their legs showed that they were heavily aroused by acting like they did. Whether they had come to enjoy the humiliation or derive pleasure from being dominated I do not know, but judging by their behavior and how sexually twisted they had become it was quite apparent that Hrathr has had a hand in their training for quite some time now.
“Greet the cunt, my slaves,” Hrathr ordered as he let go of both girls’ chains. “Teach the bitch her place in the pecking order.”
Fleur-de-Lis rushed at me as soon has she could, closely followed by Fluttershy as she tried to keep up. It was disconcerting enough to see two ponies turned into perverted caricatures of what they once were, but most disturbing to me were their animalistic grunts and hoarse breaths, which were more beast-like than pony. Uncertain of what to expect I attempted to shy away from the sex-crazed mares crawling towards me, but Iron Lance anticipated my move. With a prompt tug at my leash he ordered me to hold my pose as the girls started rubbing their bodies against mine, nuzzling and sniffing me all over in a highly choreographed ritual. Although the play superficially resembled the behavior of animals, the farcical “etiquette” was highly sexualized and nothing but a product of a debauched Caribou mind.
From what I could spy from underneath my mane, Fluttershy had been the subject of some significant body modification. Her figure was much more voluptuous than I remember - although she had always been well-endowed her breasts seemed much larger, and her rump much fuller than before. Her nipples were pierced in the manner of slaves, bearing silver studs, and as a willing slave her body was neatly kept and groomed. The yellow pegasus’ body had been defaced by a rune she bore on her pubic mound, a mark that serves as a permanent sign of Hrathr’s ownership and her status as an animal slave, not dissimilar to my own branded cutie mark. I felt pity for her, having suffered similar physical disfigurement at the hands of our oppressors myself. Our eyes met once more when Fluttershy gave my bowed head a gentle nudge with her nose as she came in for a sniff. I looked at her with pleading eyes, hoping to see some of her old personality preserved rather than a mindlessly obedient sex slave slipping down the road of depravity and lust. For a moment she seemed to acknowledge my empathy and distress, briefly looking at me with the kindness that was her wont as one of the Elements of Harmony - before reverting to the act she had been trained to perform.
Fleur on the other hand was a mare completely absorbed in her new station in life. Blessed with a magnificent physique, there were no outward signs of any physical changes she had undergone. Her naturally voluptuous body, ample bosom and full rump had won the admiration of many a stallion even before the Fall of Canterlot. Beyond Hrathr’s rune etched into her skin and a heavy set of rings adorning her nipples and clitoris, her master evidently saw little that needed improving. The Caribou reward compliance and acceptance however, and as such there is little doubt that she received extensive training and pleasure for her submission, in whatever debauched manner she now prefers.
Unlike Fluttershy who seems to show glimpses of her old character, nothing remained of what had once been a glamorous pony, famed for her beauty amongst Canterlot’s rich and famous. Instead I saw a mare who had embraced her enslavement from the start, and had willingly accepted the fate chosen for her by her masters. She had become an animal in mind and soul, acting out Hrathr’s teachings as perfectly as she could and obeying his every whim. Cadance is the only other mare that I know of who has abandoned herself to submission so completely, although to be fair my interactions with red collar slaves has been limited. How popular this sentiment is amongst Equestria’s female populace I do not know, but I suspect that many mares who entered into willing bondage still retain some of their former personalities, at least at this early stage of foreign dominion. But it is clear that Caribou slave training can be incredibly pervasive, and I fear that the longer we take to rid ourselves of the invaders’ yoke, the more difficult it will be to reverse its effects.
Fluttershy is a prime example of this - she seems to exhibit little of her former shyness, openly flaunting her body and acting like a dog in front of other ponies as is becoming of a pet slave. Hrathr’s hand in her behavioral modification is obvious, and she clearly is already aroused by and enjoys her own perversion. Continued reeducation and training will likely result in irreversible changes in personality, which leads to the horrifying prospect that we may be unable to save those ponies without the mental fortitude to resist - and this section of the populace will only increase as time passes.
Sniffing me like an animal, Fleur-de-Lis made various beast-like grunts, taking in the scent of my breath and mane before homing in on my rump. Inspecting my exposed vagina, she inhaled deeply several times before excitedly circling me. Unsure of what to expect of the spectacle unfolding before me, I kept as still as I could; Fleur soon mounted me in a display of canine dominance, placing her paws on my back and barked to catch her master’s attention.
“Roll, Sun Slut,” Hrathr commanded, snapping me to attention. “Spread your legs. A more-important female wants to familiarize herself with the taste and scent of her submissive bitch.”
The purpose of performing my tricks now became clear to me - I was being made to assume the position of a bitch submitting to my fellow pet slaves, cementing my place as the lowest of beasts. At Hrathr’s prompting, I rolled onto my back, holding my “paws” up like a dog while spreading my legs and stretching my knees towards my shoulders, like I had practiced many times before. Fleur almost immediately plunged her muzzle into my sex. I barely managed to stifle an involuntary moan as she wildly started eating me out, vigorously lapping her tongue along my sensitive slit while letting out more savage grunts. Every lick of her tongue along my labia sent waves of electric pleasure surging through my body, gradually breaking down my ability to control my body and suppress my lust. Fleur’s experience with mares was evident from the way she kept a close eye on my physical reactions and moans, adjusting her pressure and rhythm accordingly as she quickly figured out exactly how I liked it. It wasn’t long before I felt myself involuntarily grinding my hips onto the white mare’s face. Fleur immediately picked up on this physical cue, rewarding my moment of indulgence with a teasing flick of her tongue over my clitoris. To my embarrassment, and to the crowd’s amusement, I let out a loud squeal of arousal.
“I knew you were that kind of mare,” Hrathr said with a sneer on his face. “Excellent. It’ll make it all the easier to train you, Sun Slut. I initially doubted you would be much use to us, being a haughty bitch used to a comfortable life, but I can now see the king was right about making you his pet. Your potential as a sex slave is unmatched.”
I was too focused on trying to control my traitorous body to give the brute a retort. As a dignitary I have always been required to maintain a clean public image; as such I have never entered in lesbian relations, nor have I experienced its attraction. Having another mare violate my sanctity felt highly indecent - having to orally pleasure another mare was a greater taboo entirely. Slaves are expected to perform mare-on-mare sex wantonly however, for their owner’s enjoyment if not for their own. Those inexperienced in it are subjected to extensive training to develop the necessary skills, and even the most resistant mare is likely to develop a strong affinity for it. Now my turn had come to learn how to eat out another mare’s pussy, and I wasn’t looking forward to it.
Fluttershy, having initially contented herself by sniffing and licking my face, now approached me from above. Her breathing was ragged, and by the excited squeals and copious fluids flowing down her thighs I could tell she was highly aroused, whether from anticipation or her performance. Straddling my upper body, she carefully positioned her vagina over my muzzle. Fluttershy was kept clean shaven, revealing the dark skin of her puffy labia underneath; she was winking wildly and probably as wet as I’ve ever seen a mare. Strands of her secretions lathered across my face as my mind raced, trying frantically think of ways to escape this perverted act. It was to no avail though; moments later the yellow pegasus lowered her hips onto my face, pressing her genitals onto my muzzle.
My first taste of another mare’s private parts was not a pleasant one, at least initially. Her scent and taste were overwhelming. I could tell she was at the height of estrus - her labia and clitoris were engorged with arousal, each wink of her vagina giving me a waft of pheromones along with frequent squirts of her fluids. It felt filthy. At least she was kept in better shape than I had been; her sex was clean-shaven, and probably as clean as it could be. I detected only a faint taste of cum, undoubtedly from usage earlier in the morning; her slightly sour aftertaste betrayed the fact that she was frequently servicing many different stallions however, something she clearly had been forced to do for some time.
“Lick, Sun Slut. Memorize Sluttershy’s scent and taste. A well-trained animal can tell ponies apart with her nose and tongue alone,” Hrathr’s harsh voice sounded from beyond the globes of the plump rear bearing down on my face. Fluttershy was now grinding her drenched snatch onto my mouth, hoping to induce a response. To her delight I somehow managed to overcome my reservations and give her a few tentative licks with my tongue, realizing that my only way out of this predicament was to make her climax.
It was all highly indecent. Here I was, a princess, stark naked and on all fours like a beast, publicly engaging in a lesbian threesome. The stallions surrounding us jeered, yelling obscenities at us - some had taken to stroking themselves at the utterly depraved scene playing out before them, whereas others had commanded their slaves to pleasure their cocks. Every part of my rational mind screamed at me, telling me this was wrong, how I shouldn’t be enjoying this and that I had to resist the effects of my training. And yet…I found myself grinding my cunt onto Fleur-de-Lis’ face, moaning like a whore at every lap of her tongue. It wasn’t long before I found myself muzzle-deep in Fluttershy’s sex, frantically flicking my tongue over her clit as I lost myself to pleasure.
I tried to rationalize it, telling myself I was suffering the aftereffects of being forced into heat by my enchanted plug, or how they had slipped an aphrodisiac into my food this morning. But whatever farfetched reason I came up with, I knew I was just trying to deceive myself. I wasn’t wearing my anal plug, nor had I been fed my breakfast when Iron Lance came to my cell. Somehow, deep down…I enjoyed what I was doing. What I was becoming.
Reacting to my wanton, hoarse moans of lust, Fleur focused her attention to my clitoris, pleasuring my love bud with increased intensity and vigor. Drawing her desired response from me, I felt her grab hold of my legs and force herself onto me, intent on pushing me over the edge. The crowd cheered as I let out a squeal of lust, overcome by the sudden increase in intensity. In that moment, I lost what little control I had left. I could probably have broken away from the girls and taken my punishment, denying Hrathr and his traitorous stallions the pleasure of seeing me act like the mare-loving whore. But desire took over my senses, and reaching orgasm was now the only thing on my mind. I felt my body tensing up as the pressure built up inside me, pushing me ever closer to climax. It was filthy sex, taboo. It was so wrong, so unbecoming of a princess. And yet…part of me wanted those men to see me like that. It made me feel dirty, like a debauched slut indulging shamelessly in forbidden pleasures. But it felt…wonderful.
Fleur-de-Lis was now chin-deep inside my muff, lapping passionately at my clit. In the throes of lust I abandoned what little dignity I had left, moaned without restraint and thoroughly enjoyed every flick of Fleur’s tongue. It wasn’t long before my first climax ravaged my body. I felt my body shuddering wildly, twisting involuntarily as raw pleasure coursed through my body - but the girls had me pinned down, and weren’t going to let me go without completing the “formalities”.
Intent on getting her satisfaction, Fluttershy pressed her ample rump onto me, signaling for me to resume my duties. With each lick of her vagina I was getting more and more used to the act, her taste and scent. Soon I was eating her out as passionately as Fleur was pleasuring me. Even without prior experience in cunnilingus I almost instinctively knew what to do, lapping my tongue over her slit and love bud, and adjusting my speed and intensity according to her cues. Her moans and squeals told me she was no longer anything like the shy mare I used to know - it was unrestrained, outright whorish, and she was quite clearly enjoying not just the act but also the covetous gaze of the crowd. It was sloppy, passionate sex, and soon she was grinding herself wildly onto my face. I responded in kind, grabbing hold of her hips and furiously pleasuring her engorged clitoris - and I wasn’t going to stop until she finished.
In the meantime Fleur continued mercilessly working my pussy, rapidly building me up to my next orgasm. Fluttershy came first - her inner thighs squeezed down on me as her body tensed up, squirting her fluids all over me. Under normal circumstances it would have been utterly disgusted by the notion of tasting and smelling another mare’s ejaculate. I was too indulged in lust to think rationally, as Fleur rewarded me for my efforts by making me climax once more. The second orgasm was more powerful than the first - as the violent shakes and shocks of pleasure overtook me I briefly blacked out from sensory overload. The stallion’s cheers and jeers, the humiliation, depravity and indecency of it all - in that moment none of it it mattered. It was…pure bliss.
-------
As I regained my senses, I was left to introspect. Deep, intense shame was the first feeling that struck me, along with confusion. I had let my carnal desires get the better of me, displaying my private side for all to see - above all it must have damaged the morale of the black collar mares observing the scene. Many must still look to us princesses for salvation; we are supposed to be unmovable, strong and dignified, not whores corrupted and manipulated by their master’s will. How could I possibly have enjoyed this? Lesbianism, exhibitionism and pet play most certainly weren’t things I would previously have experimented with, let alone indulged in.
But openly displaying my promiscuous side to the crowd felt strangely liberating, and somehow…empowering? As a princess, I have always had to carry myself with the standing and composure expected of royalty. Lovemaking has always been a strictly private affair, and courting conducted according to the principles dictated by etiquette. Suitors were limited to a relatively small, elite selection of society. This left little room to express the carnal desires a mare feels during heat. Now I find myself in a situation where raw lust and pleasure rule; although the conditions to which mares are subjected are of course abhorrent, ponies are free from the old societal restraints. All the stallions present looked at me with covetous eyes, their looks and actions leaving little doubt of their intentions if they were given free reign with me. Many of these men were handsome, powerful, wealthy and held considerable status even in the old Equestria, and would have been considered desirable partners for any mare under normal circumstances. Satisfaction can now be had more easily than ever before - if a mare chooses to accept it.
All in all it was a deeply confusing sexual experience I most likely would not have had without being enslaved - not that I was going to thank Hrathr for expanding my horizons anytime soon. Undoubtedly the Caribou’s goal is to make me doubt myself and my sexuality, for the purposes of breaking down the mental barriers I have built up. I have become all too familiar with the methods the Caribou use to twist their slaves into utterly depraved sluts; I must be on guard at all times to prevent myself from being corrupted and affected further. If my walls crumble, it is a slippery slope down into a sexual madness I doubt one can fully recover from.
--------
Our ordeal was far from over however; my initial encounter with the girls was followed by further training and discipline as Hrathr gave a clinic, explaining to those present how to raise a recalcitrant mare into properly behaved pet. After what seemed like an eternity, I was famished. I hadn’t had my breakfast in the morning, and my stomach growled with hunger. Fortunately, if it can be called as such, feeding time had arrived.
Three dog bowls were laid out, which had each of our pet names written on them in large, white letters. It was disturbing to see Fleur and Fluttershy barking and wagging their tails excitedly upon seeing their bowls being filled with mare kibble. They were now corrupted caricatures of their former selves, utterly subservient and perverted to the extent that they thoroughly enjoyed acting like mere animals. Before laying eyes on these two girls I had naively thought it impossible for anypony to truly become a trained pet like Hrathr intended, but here I was presented with two mares that seemingly wanted to be bitches. They saw themselves as dogs. They enjoyed being dogs.
“Sit, cunts,” Hrathr ordered, giving the girls’ chains a firm tug to bring them back in line. Both immediately complied, excitedly looking at their master for permission to approach their food. Upon his cue, both mares rushed forwards, unabashedly chewing down on their feed like starving beasts.
I would, and should have resisted. But hunger drives a mare to do desperate things. Without thinking I followed in Fluttershy’s hoofsteps, only to feel the harsh tug of my leash jerking my collar against my throat.
“Sit, Sun Slut,” Hrathr commanded with a stern tone. “Submissive bitches feed last.”
The message was clear: these girls were receiving preferential treatment for their obedience, submission and acceptance of their new station in life, and as a slave of lower rank I would have to defer to them at all times.
I reluctantly sat down at Hrathr’s hooves, assuming the dog-like position I had been trained to perform. Physically I was exhausted, and the last thing I wanted was being made to go through another of his reeducation sessions on an empty stomach.
“Good girl. Now bark,” Hrathr continued, as he gave me domineering gaze.
Horror and indignation filled me in equal measure upon hearing his words. Being forced to crawl on my hands and knees was one thing, but being made to bark like an actual dog was a whole new level of humiliation altogether.
“Bark like the bitch you are, or you won’t be allowed to feed,” the brute spoke once more upon noticing my refusal to obey his order.
Inside, I was burning with rage. My eyes flitted towards Iron Lance, who bore an eager look of encouragement. His presence prevented any opportunity for me to fight my trainer. For my escape plan to work, I had to show him willingness to accept my place. I had no choice.
“…woof,” I uttered, hanging my head to hide my shame.
“Louder, cunt!” Hrathr snapped at me. “Let the crowd hear what you’ve become!”
After a moment’s hesitation, another half-hearted bark left my throat. The stallions seized this opportunity to goad me, laughing and jeering at my expense.
“Bark, you stupid bitch!” the Caribou yelled, making it clear that he wasn’t going to let me off until I turned in a satisfactory performance.
I fought back tears of utter humiliation, and the complete denigration of everything I once was and represented. A princess of Equestria, stripped naked, violated and now reduced to nothing but a beast to be tamed! The utter wretchedness of my fate and my powerlessness to relieve my situation was vexing beyond words, but I could not refuse.
Each bark was more animalistic, beast-like and louder than the last. As Hrathr coerced me into debasing myself further and further, I noticed the girls looking up from their bowls, keenly watching me. While Fluttershy’s expression was one of knowing compassion, Fleur looked at me with satisfaction, happy to observe my disgrace.

The all-too-familiar sound of the clicker released me from my torment. Whereas I had hated it with a passion just days before, its approving cue was now a relief to my ears. When I looked at Hrathr for permission he gave me a nod, praising me with the words:
“Good girl, Sun Slut. Now feed.”
I lurched forward, crawling to take my place alongside Fleur-de-Lis and Fluttershy and burying my muzzle in my bowl of kibble. I was famished and humiliated; I wanted nothing more than to hide my face from the crowd’s piercing eyes. The food was awful as always, and sometimes I think the Caribou go to great lengths just to make it taste like dirt - but this time I had few qualms about the quality. I ate my food greedily, ignoring the crowd’s taunts regarding my continued degradation.
“Excellent, cunts,” Hrathr spoke while I shamelessly licked my bowl clean. “For your drink, you will be sucking the cocks of every stallion present, until they are satisfied. I do not want to see a single drop spilled, understood?”
“Yes, master!” both girls chimed.
As soon as I lifted my head from my bowl I was greeted with the sight of cock and balls. Eager stallions rushed forward, fighting and shoving to be served first - before I knew it, I had a penis shoved down my throat. The stallion standing in front of me had grabbed my head, and started slamming the full length of his member down my throat. Thank heavens he wasn’t the most well-endowed pony, or else I would have probably have lost my lunch. Still, feeling his rod slip down into the depths of my throat felt most uncomfortable, and it took great effort to stop myself from gagging. Fortunately it wasn’t long before he had his fill. He moaned loudly as he released a torrent of semen into my mouth, which I duly swallowed. It was disgusting, but I was determined to make it through this ordeal. The faster I could make these stallions climax, the sooner they would be sated and the sooner it would be over. I was given precious little relief however, as the next stallion roughly grabbed me by the mane and shoved my face onto his cock.
This went on for what seemed like hours. Even though there weren’t that many stallions present in the crowd, I was presented with an endless stream of cock. It was clear that the ponies present were extremely virile, and perhaps these men were more aroused than usual at the prospect of fucking mares usually well beyond their reach. I suspect the corruption of the Crystal Cock has everything to do with it however. Each of these stallions had at one point been polite, civil and respecting of the fairer sex. But now they were rough, dominating and cruel, with little regard for our comfort as they slammed cock after cock as deeply down our throats as they could. We have become sex objects to them, little more than pleasure toys to enact their perverted desires with.
Those standing in line became impatient, clamoring for their turn; it wasn’t long before I was lifted up by the hips, had my legs forced apart and a cock slipped right up my pussy. I am ashamed to write…that I squealed like a depraved slut as he penetrated me. Having all these stallions fucking my throat, being so close to their scents, their pheromones for so long…it does something to a mare. My hormones ran wild. Heat raged through my body, and I accepted the pleasure and relief without shame, without being manipulated to do so.
Fluttershy and Fleur fared little better, from what little I could spy through the throng of ponies surrounding us. Fluttershy had been laid across the grooming table, and was now being used as nothing but a cock sleeve - her spread legs invited a steady stream of suitors, and she readily kept her mouth open for those wanting to use her throat. Fleur was on her knees surrounded by stallions, and expertly deep-throating a massive member while using her hands to serve two others. Her expression was only describable as pure bliss - she was a mare in a state of complete submission and total obedience, happily draining the balls of any cock she could get her lips wrapped around.
At some point I lost consciousness, having been brought to climax over and over again. There is little doubt in my mind that our abuse continued long afterwards, however.
-------
When I regained my consciousness I found myself back in my cell, opening my eyes to Iron Lance’s caring gaze. He was holding a dog brush, and gently brushed my mane. I enjoyed this rare moment of warmth and care as much as I could, bowing deeply before the stallion and raising my tail for him when prompted.
“Good girl, Sun Slut,” he said, grabbing hold of my matted tail. “Proper grooming is normally only reserved for red collar slaves, but I’m proud of the way you performed. Lord Hrathr can be harsh on his trainees, and what he asked of you wasn’t easy.”
“Thank you, Master Iron Lance,” I replied. “I still have much to learn before I can be deemed worthy of being the king’s slave.”
“That you do, but I can tell you are a quick learner,” the guard said while brushing my tail. “There are mares that haven’t picked up half of what you have learned despite months of training.”
I was delighted to hear Iron Lance was still convinced of my compliance with the Caribous’ designs, despite my obvious reservations to perform. Perhaps now was the time to lull him deeper into a sense of trust, to convince him that I was well and truly on my way to accepting a red collar.
“Please forgive my insolence, Master Iron Lance,” I spoke at length, aware of the transgression but feigning respect. “But Sun Slut noticed that you did not receive your due pleasure in the gardens. Please allow this worthless cunt to serve her purpose, master.”
As one would expect from a corrupted stallion, he was all too eager to take me. When I unzipped his trousers I was greeted with his already-stiffening rod, which needed little of my stroking to reach full mast. I knew he desired me, and enjoyed seeing me act like a submissive slut. After teasing his family jewels for a few moments, I worked my way up his shaft, and with the most sensual look I could muster plunged his length down my throat.
As I started sucking his cock I spied the keys to my prison hanging from his belt. My goal was so tantalizingly close - but no matter how tempting it was to try and pry them off him, I knew I had to bide my time. It was still day time, and the castle guards would be on full alert. For my escape plan to succeed I have to seduce Iron Lance into staying the night somehow, and make a break for it under the cover of my sister’s night. For the time being I had to act like I had been trained to. The more I can trick Iron Lance into seeming obedient and compliant, the more he will relax and become complacent - that is when my opportunity will arise.
Gauging from his hip jerks, passionate moans and flaring tip, I could tell he was close to cumming. In truth, I was loath to drink another stallion’s vile load, having been made to down what must have been liters of the substance already. So instead I moved off of his cock, immediately prostrating myself before him:
“My deepest apologies master, but this unworthy slave needs more oral training in order to learn how to properly pleasure your magnificent stallionhood,” I groveled, stretching my legs and raising my rump up to him. “Please, for your greater enjoyment, unload your seed down my trained cunt.”
Not too long ago nopony would ever have been able to make me utter these horribly uncouth words. But several months spent under Caribou yoke teaches a mare certain skills, and in a way I was grateful I was able to use my lessons to convincingly deceive Iron Lance. The stallion was none the wiser, commending me on my continued perversion - and eagerly slipped his cock into my pussy. I moaned as coarsely as I could manage, meeting each thrust of his hips with my own as I attempted to coax him into climaxing as soon as possible. He didn’t last long, hilting himself with a roar as he came. With each rough thrust i could feel his member pulse, draining his family jewels into my sex as he gripped down on my hips, groaning and panting loudly as he climaxed. He didn’t hold back, ejaculating every last drop he could muster while enjoying himself to the fullest.
I managed to derive my own pleasure from our encounter. Successfully manipulating an unwitting stallion to serve my plans was gratifying, and although Iron Lance didn’t last long enough for me to reach orgasm, in a way this was some of the most satisfying sex I have had in a long time. “Hngh you’re tight!” the stallion managed to utter in between breaths. “It was a sin to withhold your magnificent cunt from us, Sun Slut!”
His thick, white fluids gushed onto the floor, flowing out of me as he withdrew himself. I was glad Iron Lance didn’t make me lick it off the floor, and followed him on my hands and knees as he led me back to my cage.
“Please stay, master! Train me, make Sun Slut your bitch!” I pleaded with him as he was about to shut the door of my prison.
“Heh, I heard Lord Hrathr was an excellent trainer, and that you would blossom under his tutelage,” Iron Lance said, smirking as he turned the lock. “It is incredible, seeing you turn from one of Equestria’s most regal ponies into a filthy whore so quickly. I wasn’t expecting him to be this good.”
“Yes master,” I pretended to acknowledge. “Master Hrathr is opening my eyes, and teaching me how to become my true self. I have foolishly been denying what I was all along, a mere cunt unworthy of serving her masters’ cocks.”
“Perhaps you always had a slutty side you were hiding from us. Regardless it is as the lords say, you were truly born to become a sex slave,” Iron Lance spoke as he unlocked my cell door. “I look forward to enjoying more of you as you develop and grow.”
And with that, he was gone. I couldn't help but smirk with glee as he made his way from the bowels of the castle, his hoofsteps gradually becoming fainter and fainter. I could tell he was enticed by my suggestion as he left, and even though he would need to break the security protocol, he was definitely considering it. The lure has been cast. Now I just have to be patient and wait for the right moment to strike.
- Princess Celestia