==First day==
Where a mountain pass was wide enough for it, there was a quiet town of three thousand ponies named Limewood. A few hundred metres up one of the mountains, which were densely forested until the treeline, was a section between two switchbacks that stood out for having several houses, basically being a residential street for a minute, if a sparse one.

Mint Chocolate Chip was a seventeen-year-old colt with a pale green coat, a brown mane and tail, and green eyes. His mane was a thin layer on the back of his head, a taller one on the top, and a few big spikes hanging in front of his forehead. He'd looked through a good few windows this evening before he came across this one, which took up so much of the back wall of this part living and part dining room that it basically was the wall, but more important was who was inside. She looked thirty to thirty-five and had an athletic build, just what he wanted, and the colours pleased him too. She had bluish cyan fur, her mane in the front parted then curved down to make a sort of wide wishbone shape and just about covered the back of her head and sides of her neck, and she had a long and narrow white tail. What really sealed it was that, as she lied on the couch with her eyes closed, she was rubbing herself. Treading air as he masturbated to her masturbating, he quickly forgot he was in public. Being on a mountain, her house was rather out of the way, and the street was empty, but the fact remained that anyone who looked where he was would see what he was doing.

Vice was a thirty-two-year-old pegasus. After a long day of training race flyers around the age of the pony who was admiring her body more than any of them ever did, she was finally treating some lust that had been growing for hours. She had had her eyes closed as she was doing this, but at one point, it felt comfortable to open them and look forward. She saw a colt in his late teens, the size of a mare, with a mane that looked a bit like there was a fixture keeping the hair pulled back, though there wasn't. Staring through her window would have probably got him more than a talking-to, but what really sealed it was that, even though he stopped as soon as he could when she looked at him, it wasn't quick enough that she didn't know what she had seen.

This was hardly the first time he'd been caught, and he bolted with an acceleration that even the racing trainer was mildly impressed with when she considered he had nothing to launch off. She rushed out of the house, not taking the time to put on her usual hoodie despite it being pretty chilly, then went up a dozen metres and flew in a couple little circles before spotting him flying along the road, not as hidden by the trees along it as he imagined. Soon he came to a hairpin, and he continued to sprint in as straight a path as the trees let him for a few moments, then decided to go over the ridge, despite the risk associated with losing cover for a short time. Of course, there was no risk, as she was already tracking him, and effectively disappearing around a corner briefly didn't make a difference, nor did going back into somewhere reasonably covered after she had regained sight of him.

He took a minute jogging deeper into the trees and sat down. He looked around as he caught his breath, and no one seemed to be after him. In reality, Vice had her eyes on a couple patches of him and was above doing her best vulture impression and waiting for him to come out. A few minutes later, feeling ready to go again, he walked out to the open, then quickly noticed a shadow next to him slowly getting larger. Without wasting the time to look up at its source, he was off. He stayed out of the trees this time.

Vice's racing days may have been well behind her, but she was still far faster than most ponies, and she gradually caught up and, after a little bit of a sprint, tried to put her forelegs around him. He darted in a different direction at the last second, but she simply approached him again with the same inevitability, and on the second try she managed to hug him. They fell to the ground and, Vice managing to maintain her hold, went through a few rolls at awkward angles before coming to a stop. His neck hurt and Vice wanted to hold one of her forelegs, but they weren't injured.

She turned him onto his back and put her front hooves on his chest with her back legs holding down his, the natural thing for her to do with a pony she had on the ground, and looked at him with a smug pout and smile. He had a few light brown freckles on each cheek and a loose-fitting piece of cloth around his neck, the upper half white and the lower brown. His manestyle had been destroyed by the wind in his face and the rolling, but she still found the whole look rather cute. He found her blue eyes cute too, but that wasn't the reason he was staring into them a little.
"You may want to explain yourself."
"Uh...." His wide eyes showed fear and he had a straight face to match. He was also sweating a fair bit, but that was from the flying. In his fear, he put little space between his words, except when he put a lot. "Well, I found you, rather appealing, and, I don't have anyone to, deal with my desires with, and, c, clopping alone doesn't always, excite me enough...."
"And your solution is voyeurism?"
"It's, it's what works for me...."
"There are options that involve consent. I can't let you do this and go unpunished, so come with me."
"Where are we going?"
"My house. Actually, you lead, I don't want you out of my sight."

From the moment Vice got off him, she was ready to make a big acceleration, waiting for and expecting the moment he would try to get away, but he went straight back at a leisurely, consistent speed, and when she opened the door and went in, he followed. They looked at each other, her looking relaxed almost as if they were friends and him staring at her terrified.
"What's your name?"
"Mah, Mint Chocolate Chip. My friends call me Mint Chip, or just Mint, but that one's a little intimate...."
"What do you do?"
"Well, I'm in school, but I might get a job as a waiter or a mail carrier soon."
"Ah, so you can look into the house of every young and fit pony in the town and get paid for it."
"No. There are ponies who think I'd be good at it. And I think about things other than sex."
"Like what? What do you think about a lot?"
"I read a lot of history and biographies, uh, I play Mer..."
"Yeah?"
"...Mercenaries, strategise about that a lot...."
"You look through my window, but you're shy about playing trading card games."
He took a second to answer. "Yes."
"I see. Are you over sixteen?"
"Yeah."
"All right, good. I should've asked that first. Anyway, are you from around here?"
"I'm from Rutacia." Thirty kilometres to the south, it was the nearest major city. "So, wh, what are you going to do to me?"
"One more question first. Why here? Do the police there recognise you?"
"The streets are, they're never totally quiet there."
"Ah, makes sense. Well, I think we can move on now, I hope you've been telling the truth. Come with me. And oh, the safeword is galette."
"Safeword?"
"You heard me."

He followed her to the bedroom and looked around. The floor was red carpet – carpet that was red, not red carpet as such – and the walls were unpainted wood panelling. After stepping in, the bed was directly in front of him against the back wall; at the left wall, which the bed was a small, square side table away from touching, were a couple short bookshelves, the table with its lamp, and a painting of a sunset over the sea as seen from a cliff; and to the right was most of the room's space, with a couple dressers and a few boxes along the edges. The lack of dust and lack of blood stains surprised him.
"Get on the bed," Vice said. "On your back." He did as instructed. 
"Comfortable?"
His head on a pillow of exactly his preferred firmness and his back feeling somewhat better than it did on his own bed, he very much was physically comfortable. "Yes."
She got a few ropes from a chest of drawers that mostly contained sex toys and began to tie his lower hindlegs together. Still with the same nervous face, he watched feeling not entirely sure this was happening. Seeing himself be tied up in a place he had never been was too bizarre to not be at least a little sceptical about, as real as it felt. He did something he thought about a lot and in the place he usually did it, there was a chase, it was slightly dark, that sounded like a dream. Maybe when he was "resting for a minute" against that house with the yellow roof, he'd fallen asleep. He closed his eyes and told his mind he wanted out, but he didn't feel himself drifting into another dimension. He tried to put one hoof through the other, but it didn't work. She took one of those hooves and connected his left foreleg and a post of the bed, and as he watched her do that with impressive grace for an ungulate, he accepted that he had in fact got himself into this. He also felt it, and the texture of rope in multiple places made him a little hard. He'd never been tied up before, and it was even more exciting than he imagined. He did wish it was with someone he knew, but part of him preferred it this way, the same part that liked imagining a roller coaster he was on was slightly dangerous. And here he didn't even have to imagine.

Vice went to the other side of the bed to tie his other foreleg, and as she did so, she decided there actually was something else she wanted to know.
"Have you ever had sex before?"
"Two or three... two or three times depending on what you count."
"Well, we'll improve massively on that percentagewise."
"Wh, wha...? I thought you just didn't want me to escape...."
"Okay, really?"
"I know what this looks like, but I didn't think you'd actually...."
"Is this not what you wanted?"
"I didn't imagine bondage, for one thing...."
She finished the last knot and looked over her work. "I didn't imagine someone watching me."
"Look, I know what I did wasn't right... you've given me a good scare, I think I'll think twice about it now...."
"Whether or not that's true, you can't go away unpunished. And I can't go away uncompensated." The next thing she got from the sex cabinet was a black whip about as long as her body. "Did any of your experiences involve this?"
Fear turned to dread, and he tried to prepare himself for what was about to happen, but he didn't really know how. "N, no... the only kinky thing I ever did, it was a, a gag...."
"Oh? How was that?"
"It was a little uncomfortable how tight it was, and the cloth didn't, it didn't taste great, but it was fun...."
"How uncomfortable is this?" The first strike covered a line diagonally across his torso, from his right shoulder down to just reaching his left hindleg. He turned his head to the right, and nice as this pillow was, pressing into it didn't help with the pain he whined from. Vice found the distressed "eeehhh" pretty pathetic after one lash. "What does that mean?"
"I said I never did this before... can you—"
The whip cracked, and when it hit him, he was surprised to feel his left ribs in one piece and his stomach not open like he was being sacrificed, also thankful that she'd just avoided his penis. Still, he screamed so loudly the lamps in the room were lucky to survive, because he felt the level of pain was almost appropriate for a bone or three actually breaking, though most ponies who had actually had that happen would have disagreed.

For ten seconds which felt two or three times longer to him, and the break was much appreciated, Vice silently stood there admiring his grit teeth and fairly quick breathing.
"Wow, I can't believe you haven't done this before."
"Shut up...."
"Look at me." He did, and she stepped closer. "Say it to my face."
"Sh..."
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry...."
"Say it."
"Sh... shut uff...."
She stepped back and did her next one across the stomach, which made him throw his head back, or at least demand a bit more of the pillow, make an "aahhhh..." that suggested he was already struggling and weakened, and produce a couple tears. He also became fully hard, no longer able to deny that this was a hot situation. He had never had a serious accident or been in a big fight, never experienced nearly this much pain, which made it more extreme an experience. He always knew he was a masochist, but if he'd been offered this, he would've turned it down, concerned it would be too much.
"Crying already? You're in for quite a night."
He looked at her and wondered if she was ever going to take off the smug look. "You can't do more than this...."
Immediately he regretted saying that, but he felt like walking it back wasn't going to do anything for him. Despite a safeword being there in principle, he didn't feel like Vice was going to stop or even let up if only he asked nicely. "No, I'll show you," she said before taking a step back and hitting him on the same line as the first lash, making for tightly shut eyes, a high, ringing scream that almost made her shut her eyes in the same way, and a lot more tears than just a couple. Being whipped was bad enough, but in a place that already stung it felt like a whole new plane of feeling, and unfortunately for him everything there stung when he touched it. It didn't matter how nice the bed was or even how much the other two lines stung or throbbed, it was all drowned out by the nerves that had just been triggered a second time. After he finished screaming, by which point he was almost out of air to do it with, he kept his mouth wide open, breathing heavily in a vain attempt to make the pain fade more quickly.

Vice took another quick break to admire the pain, and he was all up for any breaks she would give him, but he wasn't exactly over the previous lash when the next one came in. It was in the same place, and he didn't scream for as long that time since he actually did run out of air, his body stopping it automatically with a few awkward gulps to keep him from choking on his own suffering as a line of skin opened up on his chest. He sobbed so heavily he couldn't go thirty seconds without another awkward gulp of air, and in between there would usually be a groan that trailed off, a "huuun" that would have made Vice proud of herself if this weren't his first time. After a couple minutes he was able to breathe normally between the groans, which signalled to Vice he was physically ready for the next lash – mentally she didn't much care about – and so he got one, the whip cracking just before an impact that went widthwise along him, just below his ribs. He made an "aaaah" as loud as something soft and defeated could be, then went back to sobbing his breath out.

Vice watched a couple more minutes of sobbing, but she was bored by him not doing anything different. It was just as well, though, because after seeing this much pain, her pussy was in serious need of attention. She dropped the whip and sat on his back legs, but that didn't get his attention, he just kept his eyes closed and sobbed into a pillow. She didn't need his attention, because he had never stopped being hard, but for him to be so consumed by pain it took his focus off the actual sex would really be a shame. "Mint Chip?" she said, for the first time seeming concerned about his feelings. He pouted slightly as he looked at her, trying to look angry, but his eyes still spoke almost entirely of fear, now with a bit of pleading. He didn't say anything. "Are you ready for your ride?"
"You don't care...."
"I want you to like it."
He couldn't fully admit to himself he would like it, never mind admit it to her, but he also couldn't lie. Crying at a level he never had since he was little and having a level of sobbing to match was a good excuse to not say anything, and he used it. Vice changed her expression from the smug and slightly evil smile to a soft and caring one, not wanting to push him for an answer before he had one. He found the change confusing rather than reassuring, which did something he didn't think possible and made him more scared; it was pretty clear before what she was thinking, and now there was another touch of uncertainty in the situation that already had him slightly concerned for his fate. Vice gave him several more seconds, but it seemed he wasn't going to say yes if he said anything at all. "I'll wait until you're ready." She got off the bed, leaving some drippings on his legs, and went to a crate in the opposite corner from the bed to look through some more toys.

Mint Chip didn't know whether to look. Having some warning sounded good, but having some anticipation honestly didn't. He decided he'd give it a try and he could look away if it wasn't making him feel better, but it turned out he couldn't look away. What's that pink thing? Why did she look at that wooden thing like that? Is that a blood stain? It was all frightening, but that in turn made him feel like having some mental preparation would ultimately be a good thing. Plus anything that could even slightly take his mind off the pain was welcome. As he watched her, the sobbing slowly subsided, and the crying didn't completely subside but did get much milder. The pain itself didn't change much, but he became accustomed to it, just in time for Vice to come back with a cricket bat in her mouth. She dropped it on the bed, and he stared at it with fear.
"Ain't easy to find equipment for biped sports around here, so I hope you'll enjoy this."
"I... I won't...."
"Well, get yourself ready, it's gonna happen. But for now...." She sat on his legs again. "Are you ready for something else?"
"Uh... as much as I will be...."

There wasn't much Vice could have done at that point that wouldn't have happened in slow motion to him, and so she slowly, or so Mint Chip experienced it, shifted forward, ending with her forehooves on his chest as they had been right after she caught him and her pussy on his dick, which he was quite sure was not where it had been at that time. Being touched on the wound made him grit his teeth again, including through the first thing he said.
"Could you not touch me there?"
"Ha, do I look like I care about something like that?"
"I don't know, you just gave me a minute to be... sort of ready...."
"Sort of ready for sex. So considerate." She put a hoof to his dick for just a moment to line things up, and once again she was sitting on him, hooves on his chest, with the difference that he was fully inside her. "How do you feel about this?"
"I, uh... I don't mind...."
"Wow. Anything for sex, huh."
"I... this wasn't my plan for... for tonight...."
"It wasn't your plan, but it was what you were hoping for."
She began to move very slowly, going up until just the head was covered and down all the way, which was the worst thing she could do. It certainly got some part of his mind going, but it wasn't satisfying. It wasn't technically teasing, but in a way it was. Also not great was spending so much time having pressure on the part that simply touching brought noticeable extra pain, noticeable when the main event was from being whipped open. The tears weren't going to stop like that.

He wanted to look at Vice, show her he wasn't too afraid to even look at her, but it only took a few presses on that whipping mark before the pain made him turn his head to the side. He picked up his breathing again, in volume rather than speed, moving an impressive amount of air between his teeth. He thought about the lack of windows in the room. Was this not originally a bedroom? Either way, why did she decide it should be one? That seemed to him like it would get a little depressing. Did things go on in here that she, who had no problem clopping in front of the town's biggest residential window, really didn't want anyone to see? He supposed he already knew that.

Vice was never going to take it so slow for more than a minute or so, so soon enough she picked it up. She kept half his dick in at her highest point and came down on his balls a few times a second, which made for an inconsequential amount of pain with the spirit of the whip still around, and more importantly, it meant he could actually enjoy this activity that was meant to be supremely enjoyable. The other times he'd had sex lacked a certain intensity that this had and had awkward hiccups that this so far lacked. This was what things were supposed to be like, not the fun enough but slightly disappointing reality he was made to think sex was by having it with teenagers of various levels of clue. He didn't particularly look like he was enjoying it with all of the crying, but the tears may as well have been for joy; this was the kind of thing he wanted more than anything, being ridden with the lingering pain of a whipping to remind him who he was. The pain was more than lingering on the parts Vice pressed on for support, but he was more than happy with that. Even if he got infected from this, it would be worth it, so he felt in his horny state.

Vice, of course, didn't have any such feelings, being already well aware the world offered this if one knew where to look. Not that she needed any revelations to enjoy this, because it would take quite something for her to get sick of having a stallion, or someone who was close enough, deep in her at whatever pace her mind was feeling that second. She'd never got sick of deep sex so far in her life, she knew that much. She might've put her head back, rolled up her eyes, or both if she were able to stop looking at his face, impressed in a way that he could cry for this long and turned on in more than just a way. They both had their side of the pain to revel in, but Vice was enjoying it the smallest bit more because she fully let herself.

He almost felt guilty for having such a great sexual experience without doing anything, but she didn't seem to mind, plus all the pain he felt in a few places but particularly one line on his chest kept him from feeling too bad about himself. Unable to wipe away the tears, he rapidly blinked several times then firmly pressed into the pillow with one side of his head then the other. And that wasn't the end of the coping methods, though the next bit wasn't entirely voluntary, being a moan that was clearly one of pain rather than enjoyment. Not that Vice cared which; cries of pain and pleasure gave her different kinds of assurance she was doing a good job, but she liked them equally well. He managed to look at her for a moment before again turning his head to the right in pain, that time with such force he was lucky not to snap his neck. What he saw wasn't news anyway, just the same pout and smile that made him amazed a species that could produce such sadistic examples hadn't murdered itself extinct.

Something Mint Chip could enjoy without a layer of denial was getting close to coming, and he was able to use that to tell himself the pain wasn't that bad and look back to Vice. As if she knew just how he felt, she sped up a little and took the bat with a leg, which apart from creating the latest bolt of fear meant much more weight for the place he already told her not to touch, and at least one of those elicited a scream that started out loud and seeming terrified but quickly faded out. He was too defeated to do anything more, and a few seconds after he was done, his cheek was back on the pillow. He wanted her to just do it so it could be over with as soon as possible, and lucky for him she didn't hesitate, putting the first hit near the top of his left foreleg, to which he replied with a brief stressed hum, all he could give. It didn't feel that hard anyway, being about what he'd expect from someone hitting him with a bat: it certainly hurt, but it was more than manageable. Whereas the next one, which went for the same place on his right, got a whine out of him since it made him surprised nothing broke. The bat, his bone, some skin, he didn't know what it would be, but he was surprised everything was intact. His leg felt like it wanted to buckle and some skin felt like it wanted to open up, but neither happened, and he was left with a feeling of being about to break apart without it ever coming.

What was about to come was him, and when Vice decided to support herself with her right forehoof and let the other have the bat, he thought that meant she would at least let him enjoy a climax in relative peace, then the second before it happened she struck him on the wound with full force. Such was the volume of that particular wail that he was able to share the tiniest fraction of his pain with Vice via her eardrums. But Mint Chip discovering a level of ability for working through air he didn't know he had wasn't just caused by pain, because a second after the hit, up started the greatest orgasm he'd ever known, the intensity making his legs tremble like he'd been shocked. He shook mentally as well, higher functions taking a bit of time off and leaving him with his entire existence as the highest physical pain and pleasure he'd ever had, no thoughts except those about what his sense of touch was telling him right in the moment he was in. His eyes let out a lot of fluid like they were orgasming themselves, much to Vice's delight, and even more to her delight was the moment after he was done coming. Not because the scream finally died down, though it did and that was nice, and not even because it smoothly transitioned into sobbing, but because she came herself, making a relaxed "haaaa" as if to mock him. For her the experience was only somewhat remarkable – she didn't tie up teenagers every day, but this certainly wasn't the first time – and something told her that as much as she enjoyed it, he probably did a little more. Specifically what told her was him, at least that was how she interpreted it. Loud sex is happy sex, that principle had always served her well.

Vice stopped after her orgasm, wanting to bask in it rather than enjoy it for a few moments and then move on, and lied on Mint Chip, getting up close to those mint leaf-imitating eyes that she got the occasional good look at when he wasn't blinking tears away. If she hadn't soaked in his suffering so well during the sex, having it in her face like this would've made her want to go again, and though that would've been great too, she had to say her decision to settle into an afterglow was already feeling like a good one. And it hadn't completely ended anyway; she may have stopped, but she had kept him inside. Mint Chip too was happy about her decision, just glad to not have that line that he felt was going to be there a while constantly being pressed on.

The primal part of his mind didn't know how to feel about her, coming into the one who'd just technically injured him being a strange combination, but one didn't have to go much further up to find an area that was more sure. He'd found someone who he certainly had no need to be shy around regarding his desires, and all because her response to his committing of a crime was to let him in, or force him in, and have sex with him. Despite not knowing much of anything about her, he had a feeling they'd get on.

Several minutes later, the pain had faded, not totally, but enough that he could stop crying. Vice had been looking at him the entire time, not having become the least bit tired of his tears. Having spent enough time with his face in a pillow, he was ready to look back, and his expression was still sad, certainly looking like he had just cried, but it was some kind of improvement. She had a relaxed smile with which she inadvertently mocked him as they stared into each other, but he didn't mind, and not out of fear for what she might do if she was disappointed with him; it was just good to know she was happy.
"Glad you liked it."
"Did I ever look like I liked it?"
"Yep. If you really wanted me to stop, it would've been different."
"Well, I'm glad it's over."
"Are you?" She got off his dick then immediately went back to touching it, just having it on the outside, to which he reacted with a brief grit of his teeth, his mouth slightly opening for a moment to show it. "Now it's over. And you don't seem too happy about it."
"I didn't like the pain...."
"Sure. I should torture you right now for lying to me. But I'd rather relax for a little bit...." She laid her head on his left shoulder and closed her eyes. "Have you ever lied on a pony after having sex with them? Probably not, it's hard to imagine someone below you...."
"There was one time. She kind of... she pushed me into it, literally, but it's what I wanted to do...."
"Ha, so even then."
"I just don't want to be too eager and come off as someone who only, you know, only cares about physical contact...."
"It's sex, Mint. Be horny."
He thought about how he didn't know her name. "I don't want to be horrible...."
She lifted her head a little and looked at him. "If you aren't honest about you want, you'll end up with ponies who don't want the same thing. There are ponies out there who'll see you pour it out and respond positively."
"Like you?"
"If you consider trapping you a positive reaction."
"I think *you* do...."
"I could've seen you and done quite a few less evil things."
"Evil? So you admit I probably don't like this situation."
"No. Just that I wasn't really thinking about you. This is about me, and if you happen to enjoy it, then that's nice." She just said that to play someone evil; if she had ever felt he didn't like it, she would have stopped.
"I have a feeling you do care. Not saying it's much, but you seem to want me to like it."
"Well, sure, I'd pick that if I could, but it won't change anything I do. Anyway, I just want you to be honest. I feel like you aren't even being honest with yourself."
"If I could choose, I'd be out of here. Is that enough honesty for you?"
"Doesn't mean you don't like it." She put her head back down and shut her eyes.
Mint Chip could see things going in a circle, so he didn't respond. He looked at the smooth white ceiling, thought about the stinging lines on his chest because there was nothing to distract him, and wondered when she'd let him leave. He knew it was pointless to speculate, but like the pain, it was hard not to think about.

After what was about fifteen minutes, though it felt twice as long to him with what he was going through, she got up and, from the drawer below that which held the whip that was still on the corner of the bed, took a shiny metal pole a metre long and four centimetres in diameter. What its intended purpose was he didn't know, because it was just a cylinder, but he knew what it was going to be used for. She took it from her mouth with a hoof and looked at him with a casual smile.
"All right, now it's time to torture you for lying."
"Lying?"
"Not admitting you like it."
"You won't be getting any false confessions out of me."
"Obviously."
He was never going to be pleased to be hit across the chest with something hard, but at least the object in question was hollow. A little grunt was the only reaction he had. She put the next one in immediately, across his stomach, and that made for a much more satisfying sound from him, a deep scream as if he was about to charge forward and attack someone. He took a few deep breaths and looked at her with very wide and sad eyes.
"Not quite ready yet?"
"You care...?" The tone was more hopeful than surprised or sarcastic.
"No. Just want to know how you're feeling."
"I'm never going to be ready for this."
"Fair enough."
The next hit was for his right shoulder, and it was uncomfortable for the leg more than where it actually went, briefly making him feel paralysed like he was hit in an elbow, not that he knew enough about dragon anatomy for that comparison to be in his head. It wasn't that painful, though, and he didn't give her any kind of a groan to enjoy. After that she went for the middles of his legs that were conveniently held together, which got a brief groan out of him that sounded more like momentary frustration than pain, but the feeling itself didn't disappear so quickly. No bones were crushed or even any skin, but his body was happy to remind him that it could happen. She then went a little lower down, and the hollowness combined with the amount of muscle in the way made it feel a little like a paddle. A rough but quiet "mmmm" was all she earned from that one.
"You've been taking these all right."
"Thanks?"
"I didn't say I was happy about it." She transferred the pole to a wing, drew it back, and with a little groan of effort brought it down on the length of the whip wound. His head turned from her face to the ceiling, a couple tears came out, and he made her wince with the volume of his scream that only ended when he was out of breath. She particularly liked the tone, a clear ring that reminded her of tapping a glass with a spoon. "That's better."
"I hate you."
"That's good, since I'll be gone for a while."
He looked back to her. "What? What's a while?"
She put her chest on the bed and gave a lick to his dick that had never been cleaned. "Around a couple hours. It's something I'd be doing right now if you hadn't messed with my schedule." She put the pole back, then picked up the whip, that time with a wing, and with all the strength one would expect someone with a few race flying trophies to have there, she struck him lengthwise on the left side of his chest. As a line of skin opened up, he made a shriek that didn't sound male. "See you."
She put the whip back in its cabinet and went for the door, and as she opened it, he had a question. "W—what if I need the bathroom or something?"
"It's only a couple hours. You can deal with it."
She left the room and shut the door.

Mint Chip had a fair bit to think about as he looked at the least interesting thing he could, hoping the blankness of the ceiling would make it easier to focus on his thoughts, to control them, and help him take his mind off the pain. The reality was the opposite, he needed distractions, and as his chest throbbed and stung in twice as many places as before, he found the pain taking over his mind rather than it going the other way. He was at the mercy of a proud sadist and she had already had him bleed a little bit. He let a few more tears out, partly from the pain and partly from not knowing if anyone he knew would see him again or even know what had happened. He wished he knew how real the situation was.

As he cried to himself about having no way to know how long Vice would need to satisfy her foalnapping fetish, she was in the kitchen, holding a knife in her wing that had marks of red thanks to her slightly unclean chopping of what she'd soon be feeding him. She was chopping strawberries for a fruit salad, largely because she simply had a good amount of assorted fruit that was probably going to get old soon, but also since she felt he should have a sweet treat before he was literally given pet food so as to increase the shock of it. Once the salad was over with, despite not actually knowing what she planned to do with the couple hours she claimed to need, she left the house.

When he heard the front door being opened and shut, the obvious questions came to Mint Chip's mind. Where was she going, what or who would she come back with, would she come back at all rather than let him die of dehydration, what did he get himself into. Not for the first time that night, there was no use worrying about it but he couldn't not speculate to himself. Assuming she was releasing him at some point, how much counselling was he going to need? How would he get himself to admit to the therapist how it all started? He didn't actually expect to come out of this traumatised, but he didn't know much about her either. He was worried.

It didn't take him long to figure out that filling his vision with solid white wasn't helping, and he decided to do the opposite and look around. He would have liked to move, but for now he had to literally just look. Those dressers and boxes to his left intrigued him with what they could contain. He didn't need more things to speculate about, so he told himself it was probably just clothes or something equally ordinary. At least this painting gave him something to look at. He was pretty sure that before long he was going to know these waves and these pieces of vegetation real well.

He couldn't guess how long it actually was, but after what was indeed just over two hours after she left him in the bedroom, Vice came back from her walk with nothing she didn't have before apart from a bit more excitement about how he'd react to her. When she came into the bedroom seemingly unarmed, Mint Chip wasn't yet relieved, worried she had some new torture implement, potion, or other sort of horror under the white hoodie.
"Why do you look so scared? Haven't I treated you well?"
"What are you hiding under there?"
"Under what? You mean what I'm wearing? I don't have anything on me."
"S, so what were you doing when you weren't here?"
"It's nothing to worry about. Nothing to do with what I'll 'be doing' to you, since you still seem to think I'll do things you don't want." She stood by the right side of the bed. There was just enough width for a pony. "At least you won't be afraid to admit you want food. I hope. Are you hungry?"
"If I say yes, are you going to sit on my face?"
"It's going to happen either way."
"Then... yes."
"All right, I'll get you what I made earlier."
He was pleasantly surprised when she came back with a bowl of diced fruit on her outstretched and clearly rather strong wing rather than something literally vomit-inducing, and also when she set it on the bedside table rather than immediately force feeding him. Then she began to untie his right foreleg, and at that point he finally looked something other than afraid, specifically shocked.
"What, are you surprised? I can't keep you tied up forever, you know."
"I don't know that... I don't know what you want to do to me...."
"You won't be here forever unless you ask for it. Like, literally tell me that's what you want."
"But... you would do that?"
"I'm always hoping to find a long-term slave. Wasn't what I had in mind with you, but you're welcome to stay past your sentence."
"Well, even if I did like this, I wouldn't be interested."
She didn't respond to that, and he was happy for the topic to end. He just watched in slowly decreasing disbelief as she undid the knots.
"There. Feel free to move. As long as you don't go outside."
"Thanks...."
There was more than a hint of sarcasm in there, and immediately he regretted being a little snarky, but she didn't react to it. Looking at her suspiciously, he sat up, took the bowl, and started to eat.
"What?"
He finished a delightfully fresh cube of cantaloupe. "What's next?"
"I don't know. Couple hours before bed. What do you usually do late at night?"
"Usually I'll be studying or working on my..."
"Yeah?"
"...My decks for, you know...."
"Heh. Did I tell you you're shy about the wrong things? I already forgot, I think I did. But I can't believe you would watch me like that and then not spit out the name of a card game."
"You... you know embarrassment doesn't work on..." he said before eating a slice of banana to buy time, "...Rational principles...."
"Yeah. But you can't say it isn't a bit odd."
"You can tell me I'm a bit odd. I've heard much worse."
"Like voyeur?"
"I know what I did, all right? It clearly didn't bother you that much, you just wanted an excuse to foalnap someone."
"Foalnapping? We have a safeword, you know. You can leave any time you like and I'll never bother you again. It is technically possible I've been wrong about you this whole time."
She left the room and closed the door. He thought about whether making a run for it was really the best move, and he decided to look into the living room. She wasn't there. The doorway by the other side of the big back window he looked through led to the kitchen, and he put himself halfway into it.
"Something to tell me?"
"I'm scared to actually leave."
"Nothing to do with being horny?"
"You know what I think of having sex with you."
"I do. That's why you're playing along with the whole foalnapping thing instead of taking your best chance to run away."
"Seriously, I know this isn't a real offer. If you hear the front door, you're going to do something."
"That's the spirit."
He went across to lie down on the couch where she had been when he let himself "lose control", as he sometimes thought of the act he'd do every other week and spend an hour or more building up to. At that time she was just a pretty mare he'd taken a liking to for being horny and uncaring enough to rub herself in her living room, and he thought that if he were caught, at least there would be a slightly lesser chance than usual this pony would try to get him arrested. And to be fair, she *was* happy for him to continue in society, assuming he'd ever be let out. He looked at the front door. Did he mean everything about her not actually giving him a choice or did he convince himself this was the risk-averse path because he wanted to stay with her for a couple days? He already knew the answer, but he was having a hard time admitting it to himself.

For the first time, he got a good look around the room. It was half the house, taking up the middle half of the width and going all the way from the front to the back. There was no paint, but there were a few landscape paintings, each multiple metres wide. Still, for the most part, the walls showed their generic-looking somewhat pale brown wood, and with the lack of rugs, the floor showed its slightly lighter and yellower wood. He didn't know why one would need landscapes here anyway, the view out the back wall being a perfectly good real one with the town from hundreds of metres above and the mountains on the other side of the pass.

There was the couch against the middle of a long wall and a couple tall potted plants on either side of it, and near the other long wall, close to the kitchen doorway, was the table. There was no dining room, just a table radiating a sort of ill-defined dining zone. Apart from a few smaller potted plants along the front wall and a bush near either edge of the window, that was it, leaving the front half feeling rather empty, but it was nice to have an open space when more than a couple ponies were over. Each corner of the room had a door or in the kitchen's case only a doorway, the ones in the back leading to the kitchen and bedroom and the ones by the front wall leading to the bathroom and an unfinished room with some miscellaneous things which most ponies would call a storage room and Vice liked to call the dungeon.

Half of the room feeling empty did bother him a little bit, but the home design choices of someone he didn't know wasn't the first thing he needed to worry about. He went back to the bedroom to finish that fruit. As he ate in mild but persistent surprise about how nice it was, he went over whether he should make a run for it and tried to think of scenarios. It was hard to think of a realistic one where he wasn't caught. So did she really mean it about letting him go, and if she didn't, how would he be punished? Why would she when she told him it was okay? He tried to come up with a good reason for it to be a good idea to stay where he was and nothing came, so after an hour of thinking about what direction to go and where to scream for help, he went to the front door, and before his hoof was off the handle, he heard hoofsteps and looked back to see Vice. He bolted to the bedroom, his legs just as his wings having a spring in them for how skinny they were, and she walked after him, trying to think of something witty to say when she entered.
"You're supposed to run the other way."
He sat in front of the side table, putting him between it, the bed, and the wall, as if he wanted to be cornered. "You, you said I could leave...."
She stood right in front of him. "I was just going to say goodbye to you. You were such a good victim, I didn't want to seem like I didn't care you were leaving."
"You were going to catch me again. You wouldn't 'foalnap' me and let me go before I've spent a single night here...."
"Tell me when you're ready to admit that you're going to stay until I kick you out. Now get on the bed."
"What does that have to do with...."
"I said get on the bed."
He lied on the bed with his head on a pillow. "What am I doing this for?"
"What, do you think it's your bedtime? We're having sex."
"I've had enough for today."
"I don't care." She lied on top of him and kissed him on the lips. "I'm needy and you're here. You were about to walk out, then you saw my face and went straight to the nearest bed."
"Could you stop pretending I like this? You're an evil pony and you're the one who needs to be more honest about this."
"We're never going to resolve this, are we? Especially not if I stop you from talking...." She slid her hips forward, going from lying on him to sitting on his chest and leaving a streak of juice on him. "Let's see how good at this you are."
"What are you talking about?"
She slid up to his chin. "This."
"I, I could... the time I tried it, it didn't go very well...."
"Was she so disappointed she had you suffocate in her?"
"What? Who would do that?"
"I'll show you."

She put her pussy just over his muzzle and looked at him with her best evil smile. He also had a pouty look, though with a much straighter face. She lowered her body, made a deep hum, and closed her eyes, Mint Chip also doing the last two things, though the reason wasn't as positive. As much as he wanted to whine and try to prepare himself, he knew he had no time to waste, he had to get his tongue moving. He had a rather light touch and couldn't go more than a few licks without abruptly changing pace, and after a minute that felt like waiting to Vice even though there was sex going on, she was thoroughly unimpressed. "Is this really what you want to do?" she said. "Come on, put something in it." After a whine, he pressed harder and managed to move slowly but consistently, consistent except for all the times he stopped. Why he had to do these discrete pushes she didn't know. He was going around slowly in random directions when he even was at all. She looked at him with straight-faced disappointment.
"You're a horny bitch, you know what to do. Stop pretending to be disgusted or whatever your fake problem is. If you stop moving again, I'm going to put all my weight on your neck and you're going to die."
"Wnnn!"
"It isn't that hard, come on."
After a groan, he channelled his anger through his tongue and bent her pussy nearly as far as it could go, the energy also making it easy to move constantly. Vice closed her eyes again and tried to enjoy what he was doing, because it was finally good, and not let her concern that he would screw something up soon keep her from having a good time. He was going in hard, giving every bit some love, it was great, and she just hoped it would stay that way.

After it did stay that way for a minute, she was able to succeed in putting her worry aside and fully enjoying it. Given his level of experience, she would have taken him being pretty okay, but now that he was really trying, he actually was doing a good job. Despite another groan from him, and despite it getting gradually more difficult since the longer he pressed hard the slicker the surface got, he continued to lick against the walls as much as along them, as if trying and expecting to burst through. She let out a soft hum which made him just a little less nervous, but he knew he had to carry on.

The taste of her juices was a nice motivation, not that a threat from an angry captor was less than what he needed, and though he rightly had a feeling he didn't quite know what he was doing, he still rightly had a feeling he was doing an adequate job. She wasn't dramatically moaning, but he got a relaxed hum out of her every minute or so, along with a more stressed hum from himself. Things were going surprisingly okay. He wasn't about to stop being nervous, but he got just a bit more settled, and he just tried to keep it up. As slow as the pace was, Vice appreciated his efforts, the firmness satisfying her desire for things to be hardcore.

The pleasure growing, Vice's soft little hums became soft long ones, which was parallelled by her victim's complaints. Hearing how much he wanted this to end almost made her want to give him his wish and strangle him unconscious, but as exhilirating as that would have been in the moment, she was enjoying his work. Mint Chip meanwhile didn't have anything to weigh up other than how hard he could push without costing himself air. He was still nervous, but focussed on his assignment, hopeful this crazy mare would come soon and he wouldn't be transferred to a dark stone room or whatever her thing was. He didn't know that it was indeed something she did sometimes, but if he had suddenly learned it, it wouldn't have been that surprising. "She's having a good time," he reminded himself, "Just do what she said, just don't stop, and you'll get there eventually."

"Mhhh, almost...." Hums made way for huffs, and her eyes closed just a little tighter. The fact that this pony was good when he tried made her wonder what those few other sexual experiences had actually involved. Mint Chip too was wondering exactly what his partner's sexual history was, and specifically how much serious crime it involved. Was he her first, third, seventh, twentieth victim of abduction? Were there any forest paths he should be afraid of? She didn't seriously think this was okay, did she? All things he could ask and probably get useless answers to once she got off him. For now he had more tongue straining to do.

Though not much more before she made a whine of joy to announce an orgasm that he did his panicked best to chug. Rather than having a rhythm, he hastily swallowed as many times as he could, which apart from a "kkk" in the middle accompanied by a couple tears was uncomfortable but worked. Having done his task without suffocating, he felt relief enter his body just as fast as the mare cum, at least for a few seconds until she still hadn't moved.
"Anna gidoia?" he said.
"Clean."
He licked up the cum he was responsible for, the slow pace he had put on the whole time suddenly being abandoned. Vice made a happy squeal from her insides that weren't over what had just happened being licked at again, and her breaths got heavy, but not for long before she felt dried and she sat beside his head instead of on it. He opened his mouth wide and took a few deep breaths himself, much quicker than hers.
"So dramatic."
"Well, I... I've never done that before...."
"If that was your first time, you could really be good at this. Most times I do that to someone I just end up frustrated...."
"Most times?"
"Yeah. This isn't something I do a lot, but I've done it enough that there are certain things I've come to expect."
"But if you do this for sexual satisfaction and the ponies usually aren't satisfying... can't you just... not rape anyone?"
"It's worth trying because sometimes I get ponies like you." She lied beside him.
"So if I do bad enough, can I leave early?"
"No. I'll just torture you harder."
"Right.... Do you... are you deluded or just evil? Why do you keep ponies in these situations?"
"I don't hurt someone who doesn't like it. Stop acting like I'm evil because you won't admit something to yourself."

He didn't respond. With the silence, she pulled him into a hug, which he didn't reciprocate. He still didn't want to directly tell her he was having a good time because he wanted to believe this was a real situation, but he also wanted to feel safe, and he couldn't have both. Was all this fear worth a big sexual thrill? Vice made him give an answer as he was still thinking about it.
"Did you like that?"
"Well, I, no...."
"That's a funny way to put it."
"Well, I wanted sex today, I kind of always want sex, but... I didn't want a crazy mare to foalnap me...."
"Foalnap and rape you?"
"I... yeah, obviously... didn't even think to mention that that's what it was...."
"Oh, yeah, when I'm talking about some bit of sex, I forget to mention it wasn't consensual all the time."
"Well, I was so focussed on one thing, there's a lot of... horribleness here. Is that so hard to believe? I'm not talking about that one thing anyway, it's about the bigger situation...."
"I mean, to a normal pony, if you raped someone, everything else you did would just be around that. Especially when they were just asked about sex."
"Look, I'm not in a great place, I... of course I don't like being raped, and since that's what just happened, can't you give me a moment?"

Vice liked cuddling her cute and competent victim well enough without him doing anything himself, but when he timidly hugged her back, so timid it was closer to a touch than a hug, she hummed in approval. The fact it took him a few minutes and it was so light just made it cuter.
"Are you seriously going to make me spend the night here? Like, you did some sexy pretend horrible stuff for a while, now I have to go, right?"
"Of course you're staying here. That's the point of this, isn't it?"
"You... you said you'd let me go if you were wrong about me...."
"Yeah, but I was right. That's why you didn't try to escape when you had the chance."
"When I saw you, I knew you'd just chase me down again. I'm sure you could tell how scared I was."
"Right, right. When I think I have a chance to get away from someone and then they come closer, I head straight to their bedroom too."
"I don't know what you'll do to me for trying to leave. And I already know you'd catch me."
"I said I'd let you go, you know."
"Yeah, well, you've made that kind of hard to believe."
"I'm not going to test you, I don't do that sort of thing. How can I get mad about something if it's based on a lie I told? Yes, I'm going to abuse you, but I'm going to be honest about everything."
"You're so reasonable." Even though he didn't actually make one, the eye roll as he said it was audible.
"I am. I'm the wronged party and I'm giving you a fitting punishment. But if it really was a misunderstanding, you can leave now if you want. Only now, though. This is your chance."
"Now that it's dark and I'm tired? At this point it's safer to stay...."
"I mean, isn't getting raped the main dangerous thing you think of when you're going home by yourself at night? Seriously, when are you going to admit everything you've done tonight has been because you're horny?"
"It's fear... I'm scared of you...."
Vice didn't respond to that, because she knew at that point there was no getting him to be honest with either pony here. She was just going to hold her victim until she had her fill of holding.

He knew being hugged by someone who had just raped him was probably supposed to be intensely uncomfortable, but he didn't care where his sexually driven embraces came from, or rather he did and that made it better. He closed his eyes, and for him half an hour went by like little more than five minutes before Vice got up and out of bed.
"I'm not tired enough to be in bed. I need to do something."
"Like... cuddle?"
"I thought you hated this. Aren't you scared of the scary abusive foalnapper?"
"Well... I am scared of you, but when you're holding me, I can still like that just for what it is on its own...."
She made a sigh that was almost a groan. "If you wanna admit it, just admit it...."
When she walked out, he almost put his forelegs out in a beg for her to come back, not that she would've seen it. He felt like he wanted to apologise to her, though he wasn't sure for what. He heard her lock the door, which locked from the outside, and the knowledge he was trapped, apart from making him hard, made him figure he might as well have a look around.

Because he wasn't tied up, he could go and look in the containers that had made him curious. What was in that crate? He lifted the lid, and he saw some bowls and utensils on some blankets and clothing. Wanting to know what was beneath, he decided to take the top layer out, then a couple seconds after he took the first bowl in his hooves, he was struck with the fear of what she would do to him if he messed anything up. He put it back and moved on to another crate, right in a corner, and it had bills, contracts, and other financial paperwork. But that chest had to have something interesting. And it did, trophies and medals from races. That was something he had to ask her about. There was the possibility she would get angry at him for snooping and break a few of his ribs, but he felt fairly mentally prepared for lying helplessly on her bed for a month or so anyway.

As her latest victim looked through her collection of sex toys with mild horror, Vice mixed some muesli for him, confident she had come up with a way for eating it to be embarrassing. She thought about what else she could do during the half hour or so she needed for the whole idea of leaving for a while to be effective, but there was nothing. No other food needed preparing, the place was clean, there were no other captives to check on. After putting the muesli in the icebox, she lied on the couch and, in the same place and pose where she saw him, thought about the lack of a pony looking at her. He was in her house now, and if she wanted, he never had to be in that outside world again. His friends and family would forever wonder if he was even alive, not knowing whether to trust the notes in his hoofwriting from long ago stating that he wanted to come back but he was at least safe and happy. As with a lot of her victims, part of her hoped he would never quite do a great job so she would have an excuse to keep him.

Mint Chip closed the drawer, because thinking of all this equipment was just making him anxious. The anticipation of getting almost literally screwed with a piece of metal shaped like one of those long helical lollipops wasn't going to make it any easier for him, it was just needless suffering about something that probably wasn't even going to happen. Not knowing what to do, he too lied on a piece of furniture, and he wondered how long he would be here. For the night? Forever? He'd very much like to know whether she just wanted a quick bit of revenge or if he was a sex slave now. He'd told himself enough times that thinking about these things wasn't productive, but he couldn't help it. There wasn't a good enough distraction.

After a few more minutes of internally lamenting this, he looked to the bookshelves. There were scores of books a few steps away, so what had he been talking about? He sat in front of them, and among all the novels, sports history, regular history, and athletic technique was something that stood out to him, Cruelty. Wondering what the title would even mean, he pulled it out, and the front showed it wasn't just a story. "Accounts of the worst tortures and foalnappings of the past century" claimed the cover that had a bloody whip on a black background, and some obvious questions entered his mind. He started reading, and an introduction talked about morbid fascination and similar concepts as if trying to explain the book's appeal to an alien who from a pony perspective was missing a few emotions. The first of the main sections was about a mare victim, and he thought that probably wasn't what he wanted. He was here to find out who she was copying, so he started flipping through looking for male victims, and he found there weren't many. Every section would start by introducing the victim, and usually the second sentence would start with "she" and he would move on to the next one.

Soon enough he settled on a fifteen-year-old colt who'd been lured by a stallion twice the age, because assuming he was right about how old she was, demographically it was close enough to his case, especially considering female offenders were almost nonexistent. The actual story, though, wasn't very similar, at least as far as he read before Vice came back.
"Hey, I'm still not tired enough to lie down, but I don't really know what to do. What are you reading?"
"Cruelty... I have a few questions...."
"Sure, go ahead."
"Well... where did you find this? And is it an... inspiration?"
"Just in a bookstore. True crime section. And it's my passion for foalnapping that led me to buy this, not the other way round."
"But is anything you're doing to me... from it?"
"No. The way I like to treat my temporary slaves is so different from what the non-perverted abductors like to do. Well, non-perverted except for the pedophilia. You know what I mean. I'll tell you again, I care about whether you like it, whereas the normal ones... normal in the context of foalnappers... they're just evil."
"Raping me isn't evil?"
"I just told you why it's... you know, if you stopped pretending not to like it, your life would be so much easier. It seemed like you were about to do that."
"I don't think anyone likes being violated."
"Yeah, like that." She closed the door with a hindhoof. "Maybe I shouldn't make it my problem...."
He put the book away and got up. "So do you know what you're going to do in here or...."
"No. But I was thinking about you the whole time, so... I need to do something with you."
"I can only imagine what you mean. Please be more—"
She slapped him on the cheek. "I mean it. I don't know. Maybe I... just want to know you a bit better. It's nice to not be alone tonight, but I still haven't really met you." She lied prone on the bed. "So studying and card games, right? Do you like studying or is it just for what you hope it'll do for your life?"
"Well... I like it up to a point, but the amount I do it, it gets pretty boring... I can deal with it, though. If it means I have a better chance of doing what I want to do as an adult, it's worth it."
"And what would that be? Do you like your cutie mark?" It was a scoop of white ice cream with a few chocolate chips.
"Yeah, it's fun to... well, it's fun with ice cream in particular, but to experiment with food in general, honestly. Not the way you probably experiment with food. But I don't really know what I want to do, there's too much stuff that looks like it might be cool and there isn't one thing that sticks out."
"Well, that's better than how I was in my late teens, hating... maybe not hating, but having a distaste for almost everything. And I like a long vegetable sometimes, but that's pretty much as far as it goes.... What about the other thing, then? This game a big part of your life?"
"Do you really care? You don't have to humour me."
"Nothing too specific, just who do you play it with, do you have everything you want, do you participate in anything big...."
"I wish I was good enough to be in anything big. I've only done anything official a few times and I'm always average, so I don't qualify for anything. So for the most part it's a couple of friends and a club I go to sometimes. It seems like you did a bit better in your competitive pursuits, I... um, I looked around a bit and got curious about that. Is it okay that I looked around a bit?"
"Yeah, that's fine. But before I can talk about myself, you should at least answer what I asked you. Is it a big part of your life?"
"Well, I... yeah, I spend a lot of my free time on coming up with stuff. And I don't have everything I want, but that's how it is with everyone who isn't an adult and really hardcore into it. Maybe that's a good thing so I don't have even more possibilities to think about...."
"Well, if you know what you're missing, you've thought about it a bit anyway, haven't you?"
"Yeah, but it's easy enough to spend a lot of time on what I actually can do. I could sink a lot more time into what I can't if I wanted.... I already feel like I should be putting more time into things that are more important sometimes. But I know I've got a... school's going well, there are a couple places I could probably go if whatever I decide I want to do doesn't work out, I know I'm doing okay."
"Well, you've been abducted by a serial rapist, but other than that you're looking pretty good."
"How many times have you done this before?"
"Well... depends on what you'd count, but... eight, ten."
"Oh... so is it usually about sex?"
"Always. I find someone who needs it... or they do something that gives me an excuse... and so I take them. It's a simple thing."
"I bet excuse is a good word for it...."
She punched his cheek and he made a soft whine of pain. "You know you're happy I do this."
"Haven't we been over this enough?"
"Yeah. The subject just keeps coming back." He didn't respond. "So you wanted to know what the trophies are about?"
"Yeah... what's the story?"
"In my youth I was a race flyer, and... I wasn't the best, but I was better than average. So on a really good day I'd get on the podium."
"That's pretty cool...."
"It was. I was living my dream, I was being an athlete and being in the proper official sanctioned stuff. National youth leagues, but still."
"So what made you stop?"
"I'd had a bad year and most of my sponsors pulled out. I could've done one more year at the cost of being almost broke at the end of it, but it seemed like I wasn't the superstar I'd hoped I was anyway, so I decided not to ruin my life."
"So you didn't get to live out your dream...."
"Not since I turned twenty. But most ponies don't make it to the top, or even get close. That's kind of the point. I've never felt a deep sense of not being where I belong in life."
"To me it's just cool you always had an idea of what that is...."
"And you don't know because you like a lot of things. But that's a good thing. Not everything about you is a negative, okay?"
"I never said that...."
"You don't think it?"
"I... my self esteem is fine...."
"Okay." She nuzzled the cheek she had punched a minute ago. "So do you have friends outside of from your hobbies?"
"A couple... the pony I spend more time with than anyone, apart from my family, he's from school, I've known him since I was thirteen. It was a new school for me, and he was the only pony I met that year who seemed to like that I took studying so seriously... it isn't cool to care about school that much, obviously...."
"Yeah. But one pony is better than no one."
"I know. I'd be lonely a lot more often without him. I don't wanna give the impression I don't like my life, it's... I'm not sad."
"Seems like you would've tried harder to escape by now, then. You must... eh, like you said, we've been over that enough."
"I wish there was something I could say to you...."
She took a second to respond. It was tempting in the moment to continue the discussion she had just said she wouldn't continue. "Well, if you're so scared of being out at night, maybe I can just keep you without hurting you? Just for the rest of today."
"Yeah, that would be nice. Because I don't expect you to hurt me, at least. I mean, in general, not just when you promise."
"I did make you bleed today, but yeah. Nothing serious, right."
"Yeah... I mean, I know you're being sarcastic, but I do think it's the less risky thing to do."
She was quite sure that after what she had done, no one who didn't like it would be thinking of spending the night in here as "less risky" than leaving, and again she had to tell herself that saying it was useless. "I didn't say you're going tomorrow, just so we're clear. Just that I won't injure you any more, just for tonight."
"Yeah, I understand."
"So risk-averse. Now... sit down."
He did. "Why am I doing this?"
"Well, lying down wasn't comfortable, but I never really wanted to stop holding you."
"So you're just going to hold me again?"
"Not just."

She sat close enough to hug him, and she did. A couple little shifts in the right directions and they'd be having sex, and he was surprised that such a situation would make her happy. He didn't think of sexual teasing every time he was in a hug, but he knew what his purpose was here.
"You're scaring me. You have to know that's scary, right? Just tell me what it is. Are you horny again, do you want another round? That's all it is, right?"
"I don't know if I should tell you, having you scared is pretty fun."
"It's not fun for me. I don't like this part."
"What parts *do* you like?"
"Well... none of them, I just want you to believe me for once."
"I just gave you a choice and you stayed here. There's something you like."
His breaths got a little longer and, before he fully decided to do it, he found himself looking around a lot. "I thought I made it clear how I felt about that."
"You said it's safer to spend the night with someone who just raped you than go out at night for like an hour. Hard to take that seriously." She leaned back to look at him, pretty much right in the face. She thought of it as intimate, and, despite her relaxed and happy look, he considered it more as another reason to be scared. "Why keep lying when it doesn't work?"
"If you're just going to say I'm lying, what's the point in even answering...."
She leaned forward again, enough to get her mouth to help with untying the piece around his neck, and he sat there silently as she got it off then threw it aside. She stuck her tongue in his mouth and gave his a couple of squeezes. "I guess you're right. Now let's get on the bed, I'm gonna make you do another fetish."
"What is it? What if I don't like it?"
"Doesn't matter. I'm pretty sure you aren't dumb enough to disobey."

She took off the hoodie and threw that a couple metres away too, then sat on the bed. He sat in front of her, keeping eye contact as he moved. She put a hoof on his mouth and gently tried to push it in, but he shook his head.
"You don't want it?"
"If you're going to do this, you could at least clean it up.... I'm already worried what's in my bloodstream, I don't need to swallow it too."
"All right. If it'll make you comfortable, I'll clean my hooves."
Knowing she was probably in the bathroom made him want to try to escape, but he knew it wasn't something that couldn't be interrupted. After a couple minutes in there, she sat right where she had been. "There." She again gently pushed her hoof against his mouth, and this time he accepted it, despite the fearful look he continued to give her. He licked it back and forth and tried to cover everywhere he could as he repeatedly internally reminded himself how clean the floors were. "You like this, you aren't doing it 'cause you're scared of what I might do to you." She was wrong, with both being real reasons, but rather than correcting her, he made a brief whine. It motivated her to push quite a bit further in, and he made another whine since his jaw was brought slightly further down than what was comfortable. But he kept at it, giving love to the newly available areas as he looked at her permanently lidded eyes. Every interaction she'd had with him justified that look, so whether it was meant to be normal or send him a message wasn't clear, but he took it sexually and at this point he took her as a pony sexually.

"This is cute, but I'd rather you be a lot firmer."
Knowing he didn't have a choice, he did, pressing just hard enough that his tongue hurt. He didn't know what he was doing and was well aware of that, but he tried to make sure he didn't leave anything dry and she looked pleased enough. And she was pleased *enough*, not going crazy but satisfied. After a couple minutes of Vice seeming probably content, his expression took a slight turn from scared to begging. "No matter how you look at me you're getting abused," she said, "So don't bother." He kept the soft eyes up anyway, but she was okay with that, because it certainly wasn't going to make her feel less like she was rubbing in his powerlessness. And her hoof was getting what it deserved, because he wasn't refusing to get firm with it, unlike the last pony she had abducted.

It still took an active effort on his part to keep the pace up, never becoming something he fell into. Despite this, over another couple of minutes he slowly relaxed to just looking at her, not even seeming scared, though he still was. Despite him staying consistent with his pressing, she took her hoof away, because by now she needed more. She lied on her back.
"Get on your chest."
"Er, okay...." He lied facedown. "Like this?"
"Yeah. Now move to your right a bit."
He shifted to what was now his right and ended up touching a couple of his legs to a couple of hers, which included feeling her saliva-coated hoof. They were quite close to kissing, but he figured she had something heavier in mind. "Little more," she said, and he put their sides together gently, making sure not to have their muzzles touch. "More." He pushed into her somewhat firmly.
"Further."
"I can't...."
"A little up too."
He gave her a slightly terrified look as he lied on top of her. "Should I, should I be here?"
"Yes."
"This... it feels kinda wrong...."
"Have you never done it before?"
"There was one time."
"What was that like, then? Well, first, put it in."
"I... are you sure I—"
She sounded firm and cross. "Put it in."
He did, all the way to the base. His dick wasn't fully hard or even quite halfway, but being inside her sorted that out. "So, uh... it was my first time, I was at this party, some teenagers doing things they... wouldn't exactly want their parents to know about... though I didn't get involved in any of that. Except the sex, I guess."
"What was someone like you doing there?"
"Someone I knew told me about it, and... this wasn't the first one, actually, this was the second time I'd be in a house with this group of ponies, at least it was mostly the same ponies, so I wasn't quite as nervous. It'd be more interesting than a lonely night, I knew that. So this filly and I, we were talking, and she was the one who mentioned sex first... she talked about her sex life and being slutty, and I'm not saying that, she used that word to describe herself. So I dropped a few hints, I tried to imply I wanted something, but always in a way I could go back on, say 'no, you got the wrong idea'.... Eventually she just said, she said 'you're horny right now, aren't you', and I sort of stammered out the truth...."
"And then."
"And then I followed her to this bedroom that... from the smell you could tell what it had been used for. Not in general, well, probably in general too, but, like, really recently. So we got on the bed, she pulled me into a kiss, and... we kissed for a while, rubbed each other with... it started with rubbing our legs on each other, you know, we're kissing, but soon enough we were rubbing some other body parts.... So we kept getting louder and hotter, and at one point she got off the bed just to put her chest on it, and I, I got the message... so I did my best, and she seemed to like it okay...."
"So not quite this, but still, on top of a mare. You've had sex multiple times and that's the only one... for you it makes sense, though. Hopefully you can do a better job than 'okay', if you want me to ever release you, anyway."
"You wouldn't actually do that, right? Keep me forever?"
"You want freedom, you'll have to earn it."
"I... guess I better start, then...."
"I'm ready when you are."
He dug his front hooves under her back to hug her, feeling weird about moving her body even that much without asking, closed his eyes and put on a nervous straight face, and started moving his hips. He just moved, with not much thought put into how exactly. As such, it was slightly slow, a little soft, and never quite coming most of the way out.
"What's wrong?" Vice said.
"What do you think...."
"You're afraid the crazy mare is going to hurt you?"
"Well, I don't think you're crazy... not literally insane, at least... you're evil, maybe, but not crazy.... But yeah, I'm afraid I won't do very good and then you'll...."
"What will I do?"
"I don't know... but something painful...."
"There are a lot of things I'd beat you for, but this... I think I'll just make you try until you get it good enough."
"Am I doing that right now?"
"For now. You can't do this forever, but I'll tell you when."
He reflected on how he had been more focussed on the talking than the sex just then. He wouldn't have thought anything could distract him from sex, but if it was going to happen, another primal desire of not wanting to feel pain seemed appropriate. He tried to get that out of his head and focus on pussy, which turned out not to be a hard thing to do, and without trying he sped up slightly. If her slave wanted to put in more effort, Vice wasn't going to argue, and with the onset of some actual strong sensation, she wanted to hold something. She was mild about it, though, hugging him with one foreleg and petting his head with the other, both rather softly, as if nothing remotely intense was going on. Mint Chip took it as a statement that she was craving more force and pressed into her harder, both with his chest and his dick. Things weren't properly hard by any means, but they weren't soft anymore. He shut his eyes somewhat firmly and nuzzled into her shoulder, hoping this would be enough, because he thought he could sustain it. He wasn't entirely sure, not being someone who did a lot of physical activity, but he didn't really think anything below it would do.

Mint Chip's thoughts were pretty simple. He was happy to be inside someone who liked him and happy to be inside someone who might be keeping him in a basement forever if he didn't keep up the pace. Though it was less by anything deliberate and more by following the pleasure and letting his body take him where it wanted to be, he did find a good rhythm, which Vice much appreciated. Her feelings were also pretty simple, and unlike Mint Chip with his stressed face, she actually looked like she was having fun, with a smile that as he went on was slowly going from comforted to wide and almost silly. She also felt and smelled it, being fairly wet, and sounded it, with hums that got marginally longer every time. Soon enough she was making sounds as often as she was silent, which he took as a good sign.

After a couple minutes of Mint Chip showing a consistency he rarely found in other physical activities, she stopped petting him and put both legs on his back for a firm hug. The pleasure hadn't taken an abrupt step up, but it had got to the point where the soft touches wouldn't do anymore. He knew that too was probably a good thing and tried to keep at the pace that had got so much noise out of her, which he didn't do, instead going up to what wasn't a sprint but was certainly something he couldn't keep up forever. The pleasure on his side had got too much for him to stay at the pace he could probably just about endure for a while, and he may not have intended to do it but he noticed when he did, letting out a grunt as he accepted the work he would be putting in. This is fine, he told himself, if it's going to be that much longer you haven't been doing a good job anyway. Vice made a noise about it too, a moan that filled the room, the humming that was by that point fairly loud now coming out through an open mouth. He turned his head away from her, not wanting to put up with that with one ear practically inside that mouth when he could have it against a pillow.

He made a couple "muh..."s that sounded more exhausted than anything but were attempting to show pleasure, and a lot of it, because he was almost there. As much as Vice would've liked to say something clever about him finally giving in, she wasn't in a state to come up with anything, and just made moans that showed none of the relaxation that humming might. The other ponies Mint Chip had had sex with hadn't been so dramatic, and he wondered if she was enjoying it more or if she was just like that, and if she did like his work more, whether it was something about his style or just because he was doing better. Right after he asked himself these, they were pushed out by physical pleasure, as he reached a point where the only things he could think about were that and how pretty he found Vice. He wasn't looking at her, but that wasn't important. Seconds later, Vice found herself in the same place, not even any of the dominance mattering anymore. She had good sex in a physical sense and that was where all her attention went.

Mint Chip made a few big, dramatic huffs before he came with a feminine whine, overjoyed like he was fulfilling some cosmic purpose of his life. He was thinking about one thing and satisfying it completely. After the sharpest orgasm he'd felt for quite some time, he kept going without any dropoff despite the mildly painful workout, because getting Vice as high up as he hoped she was and leaving her without an orgasm seemed like a bad thing to do if he ever wanted to be out. Which in that moment he had mixed feelings about, but he still wanted her to be happy with their sex.

After he was over the peak, Vice made a few big, dramatic moans, then squeezed him like she wanted to break his back and possibly all of their ribs, and the pseudo-workout didn't feel so bad anymore. With another whine, this one much more pained, he pressed on, confident that what he felt now was incomparable to whatever punishment he would receive for not finishing the job. After what felt to him like the longest dozen breaths of his life, though in reality they were rather short, Vice rolled her eyes up so far it didn't look healthy and screamed in a way that sounded a bit angry more than anything, having the contour of a groan with a rather high pitch. Regardless of how she expressed it, the orgasm made her happy even compared to most bestial indulgence, and for her that was awfully happy. Mint Chip let her ride it all out before he dared to slow, a job made less painful by her legs shaking and thus taking a lot of the pressure off his back, but he did slow once he felt the juice stop flowing, almost as happy about her coming as she was. Over the next fifteen seconds, or maybe thirty – neither of them were doing great in terms of a sense of time – he came to a stop inside her, breathing noticeably quickly. "You know, it's not... mmm... not normal for someone as new as you to do a good job like this," Vice said, and meant, though he wasn't sure whether to believe it or take it as polite flattery.

They lied there, their bodies soft in the afterglow and in being somewhat tired, his breathing settling down and both their minds settling down. Savouring what she coerced a teenager into working so hard for, Vice was in a weird way appreciative that he had done something so worthy of punishment, not that that was a feeling she didn't get about most of her victims. Apart from the sex he was soaking in, Mint Chip felt pretty nice about the punishment too, in the sense of being confident it wasn't getting worse soon.

Warm post-sex hugging, not even post-sex, was something he enjoyed more than he had ever imagined, and he had imagined it many times. Still, once he got some higher functions back after a while, there were a few things he wanted to ask.
"Hey...." He was going to continue with her name, but he didn't know it, so that was another thing to ask. Whether he'd even get her real name he didn't know, but he'd have something to call her, in any case.
"Hm?" They both turned their heads to look at each other, and she briefly tilted in to give him a kiss on the lips.
"I have a few questions, is that okay?"
"Sure, but I feel kinda... sexful... I think I can think, but. Lemme take my time if I have to."
"What's your name?"
"My first name is Vice."
"That sounds about right.... Um, if you don't like what a lot of these ponies do as far as sex, why do you foalnap them? You know it's wrong... I know you said a few of them are good, but is that really worth the rest of it?"
"It's wrong to show someone lonely a good time? But the main reason it's worth it is... it's just something I like doing, and the mediocre times really are worth the good ones. Also most of the time I'm taking the lead so much that how good they are doesn't really make much difference. Anyone can just lie there and make some funny noises... some ponies have cuter reactions than others, sure, but to really be bad at it is... I've seen it, but it takes something special. And horny ponies are my kind of ponies, so even besides the sex they're fun to have around. Most of them."
"Okay... uh, makes me wonder if you'd do this stuff if you... do you have a coltfriend, and if you don't, would that help?"
"I don't. I might not do it as often, definitely my attention would be split a little more, but I don't think I would abandon it. My fetishes wouldn't go away just 'cause I have someone."
"Oh... I was kind of hoping you were single and sad and I could pretend you were kind of driven to this, but... that makes sense...."
"Yeah, you're so sad I do this stuff. All right, anything else?"
"One more... since I did a good job, that means you won't hurt me any more today, right?"
"That's what I said. You might get bed sores, but other than that."
"Thanks, I guess...."

Vice closed her eyes, and the resulting expression, the serene smile, made Mint Chip think. This really was something she was passionate about, and he couldn't say he didn't support it. He was happy for his fellow figurative sex addicts and for that matter any literal ones that she made the horny part of the world bigger, as long as she really did only keep herself to ponies who liked it. How comfortable she looked, and the type of comfortable she looked, as if they knew each other well, was also a contrast to his previous experiences, with partners who were there almost entirely for the physical and not shy about it. Sex being emotional seemed like an obvious thing to him, and having now actually experienced it, he did like this attitude better. He wondered how she was about that sort of thing at his age, but he dared not ask another question after he said he was done.

After a few more minutes of afterglow cuddles, Vice pulled Mint Chip off of her and rolled him faceup, got off the bed, and began to wrap a bit of rope around his left forehoof. When she had untied him, she had just untied him, not even bothering to take the rope off each post. At this point he decided that maybe asking a question was justified.
"What are you doing?"
"What does it look like?"
"Tying me."
"Yeah. I'm going to sleep and I don't want you escaping."
"Why did I get into this?"
"You were horny."
"I... you didn't have to answer that...."
"You didn't have to ask it, then."
She moved on to his left hindhoof, and he lied there, not making any attempt to get out whilst there was still a chance. He still figured that if he tried, she would just catch him again, and he didn't want to imagine what kind of punishment would be wrought. After doing the last hoof, Vice lied on him, their chests together. She was right in his face, but gave him a soft look, smiling like they'd known each other for years and were sharing a nice moment, quite different from the fear he was expressing.
"Comfortable?" she said.
"Yeah...." His voice was nervous and a little high. He did not sound comfortable.
"Good." She closed her eyes and nuzzled into the pillow slightly. "If you need anything and I'm asleep, too bad."
"Er, okay... I'll do my best not to wake you up either way."

Neither of them found it easy to fall asleep. Vice was too tired to do things but not enough to sleep and Mint Chip felt he could gaze at the ceiling for hours wondering whether he'd get out of here, and if so whether he'd be uninjured. Eventually, though, thinking about having a pony tied up, knowing there was nothing stopping her from keeping him forever if she wanted, made Vice relaxed enough to drift off. Meanwhile, this victim thought about how to play things the next morning, like whether he should sneak away at a time she was busy, bolt at a time she was busy, beg, be annoying, or just be a good boy. He didn't know what was most likely to get him out physically and mentally intact because he simply didn't know her very well, and he realised that, but it didn't keep him from playing and replaying possibilities in his head. Trying for the sixth time to guess what in the vicinity of her home Vice would consider a plausible hiding spot, he groaned inside and tried to stop thinking, quite successfully.

==Second day==
Mint Chip woke up to find Vice still against him, but now beside him, a leg crossing his chest the only part on top. She was still asleep, and though being unable to move wasn't terribly comfortable, he sure wasn't about to wake her up. He looked at her with the only view he had, that closeup so close it was almost a kiss, and resumed guessing what the best way to get away was. Surely at some point he'd again be unbound and in a different room, and from there he could leave like he almost did and find somewhere to hide out. He didn't make any ground from the previous night before Vice woke up and stretched like a cat, not meaning to mock him, but he took it that way.
"Sleep well?" she said.
"I feel all right, but I'd really like to move...."
"Oh, fine. Give me a few minutes and I'll untie you."
She closed her eyes and nuzzled into the pillow, and he did wait a few more minutes, not having another choice anyway. Once she felt properly awake, he could watch as she untied him, and as soon as his left legs were free, he rolled over. It was the best feeling he'd had in the past week apart from all the sex yesterday, and he was thankful that the only wounds he was likely to leave with were narrow lacerations without the addition of ulcers, which he had to say he didn't find too sexy. He thought as soon as he had gained the freedom to walk he'd happily use it, but when he did, he lied there, basking in the lack of back pain. Vice collected the ropes and put them away.
"You wanted to move?"
"I will in a minute...."
"All right, then." She took a few steps toward the door, then looked back at him. "Hey, before I forget, how soon after you get up do you eat breakfast, normally?"
"Um... half an hour, an hour... anywhere in that range. I can just tell you when I get hungry."
"As if you'll get to decide when you get food."
He decided not to reply, and she left the room. He didn't want to use her morning as a chance to escape because he didn't know her routine and probably wouldn't luck out and pick a time where leaving immediately would be problematic, so Vice brushed her teeth without having to pause in the middle to catch a runaway sex slave and was able to just walk back to the bedroom to lie alongside him and kiss him on the cheek.
"Doing good?" she said, confident he would cutely struggle trying to answer.
"I wish I wasn't foalnapped, but other than that I'm all right."
"Good. Now, there are a few things I'd like to know, if I may...."
"I guess I don't have much to hide from you."
"I feel like you couldn't convincingly lie about it anyway. So you've had sex a couple times, yeah? How did that happen?"
"Well, someone I know, one of his friends knew where to find the wild parties, and... the first time didn't involve any sex, not for me, I just spent some of it getting to know a few ponies a little bit. Most of it I spent sitting somewhere quiet and having a snack sometimes, that's how I usually handle parties.... It didn't seem like something I wanted to be a part of anyway, it looked like they're just doing drugs and talking about films and music I haven't seen, but sometimes I.... Uh, sorry, I'm telling this whole story, I should just answer the question."
"We've got all day. You want to talk about this, you can."
"Okay, well... so next time I and that pony I knew met, I told him I had a few nice conversations but it wasn't my thing for the most part and I was really only there for something that didn't happen, and he told me yeah, you put yourself in an empty place and never talked to anyone.... So I gave it another try, that sounded more fun than being by myself and wondering what I was missing, and I never did actually get myself to talk to someone, but eventually that pony, the pony who I was on top of came up to me. I just got more nervous as it went on because she seemed to actually like me... I mean, most ponies do, but beyond just being a polite stranger....
"So she isn't the first one to talk to me today, but after some ponies who listen to me awkwardly tell them what my hobbies are and probably regret talking to me, there's her, she found somewhere to take it and we ended up talking about board games. Sharing what we like, what we wish we could do, some stories.... And the way she spoke too, she was humble but confident and comfortable with herself, if that makes sense? Maybe not comfortable in the sense of, like... sorry."
"It's okay. Take your time if you need to."
"She knew there were plenty of things to improve but for the most part thought she was cool. It was a different attitude from most of these... like, most of them there are slutty teenagers, right, that's kind of the point, and a lot of them had self-esteem issues whether it's way too high or way too low.
"There was the way she treated my opinions too, she would always ask me why I felt a certain way about something. Not in an offended way, just that she wanted to know why more than what, basically. So we talked about what we value in games for a while and I actually felt like myself. Like, I could say what I wanted, I wasn't reining anything in. Except that I was horny for her, I kept that to some hints, but that was okay. Especially when she admitted it too...."
"Nice little story. Next thing, since it's a Saturday morning now, is there anything different you do on a weekend?"
"Not usually... sometimes I'll, you know...."
"I don't know. That's why I'm asking you."
"Well, the most common thing is... no, I shouldn't talk about it."
"Talk about it."
"It's... meetups for card games...."
"Is that all? You already told me that. It's okay to have passions, you know."
"Well, my things aren't exactly cool...."
"I don't need you to be cool. Just tell me who you are."
"If I don't need to be cool, does that mean I get to go away if I say I'm really strong and do drugs and have a fillyfriend and, uh... I'm on a hoofball team...."
"No. For one, those are all obviously not true. For another, if I don't like you, that doesn't mean I let you go, I keep you in the dungeon instead of the bedroom and don't talk to you very much."
"There's a dungeon here?"
"Not really. It's just an unfinished room. But you'll obey, so you'll never go there unless you want it."
"I assume it isn't as comfortable as in here, so... I think I'll stay."
"You *will* stay...."
"What do you mean? How long am I going to be here?"
"Why tell you and ruin the thrill?"
"'Cause I never wanted to run away to be a sex slave who's in a single room forever... I mean, I have, but that's not what I was thinking of when I was looking at you."
"Seems like you're having a good time, though."
"I keep telling you I'd rather not be here."
"Doesn't mean it's true."
He took a couple seconds. Even with a new day, he felt they'd had this exchange more than enough. "Can I use the bathroom now?"
"Yeah. It's the opposite door from this one. But don't take a shower yet. There was one more thing I wanted to ask you, actually, but I can't remember it now. Go ahead."

He walked to the bathroom. The first thing that caught his eye, apart from another potted plant in the corner adjacent to the door, was the massive shower. It was along a long wall as opposed to a short one and had twice the length and width of a typical bathtub or shower basin. He wondered if it came with the place or if she had got it installed, and either way, who needed something like that. Adjacent to this was the rest of a normal-sized bathroom. The floor was white tiles that were a little too shiny for his liking, begging him to slip on them after a shower, and the walls were mainly white but had a few wavy stripes of a pale azure along the bottom metre or so, with a couple paintings with deep forest scenes higher up. By one end of the shower was a perfectly normal bathmat that looked tiny next to it. The toilet was at the back wall, and by it in a corner was a cabinet with mirrors for doors. He saw the sink had more than one toothbrush, but he didn't imagine she always kept a new one out for if she foalnapped someone.

He spent almost as long lost in thought about why the shower was so big and wondering if he should ask her as actually using the bathroom, but soon enough he came back to the bedroom, where Vice was looking at the bottom of her hoof, wondering where that little indent came from.
"Hey, slave."
"Hi.... Um, when do I get breakfast? Preferably now, but...."
"Sit against the wall."
"What? Why?"
"Do it."
He sat with his back to the nearest wall. "Like this?"
"Yes." She sat in front of him and put a foreleg across his chest, which she put a lot of her weight on. "Before your stomach can feel good, it needs to feel bad. You know, you need to earn it."
His eyes went wide and he frowned slightly, a mix of mild shock and not so mild pleading. "What are you about to do? Can't I just beg you to not hurt me? You'd like that, right?"
"I know what I'm looking for."
She drew her other foreleg back and, with all the strength that that athletic body had, gave him a literal punch to the stomach. He shut his eyes and whined so loudly that she squinted and folded her ears for a moment, and he yearned for the school bullies, because the way they pushed him into walls and punched him would feel like a nice hug right now. She held her hoof there for a few seconds, and as soon as she brought it back he tried to push forward, wanting his back away from anything hard, but her weight was still on him. After a few deep breaths, he opened his eyes to a smiling Vice, her eyes a little more lowered than usual.
"I like you, but... why do you have to hurt me...."
"I'm a sadist with power." She stood up. "I'll get your food."

A minute later, Vice presented Mint Chip, who was still sitting there and had both forelegs touching his stomach, with a chilled bowl of something that seriously confused him. The oats, dried fruit, and nuts in a lot of milk actually looked pleasant. Unsure if it was spiked but also unsure if rejecting all these calories would be a good idea, he had a few spoonfuls of it. He found it perfectly good cereal, in fact a little better than the cereal he often had for breakfast, and all the sugar lifted him up like some kind of drug.
"How's the gruel?"
His pained but resigned expression turned to a contented smile. "It's really nice."
"What do you mean? It's liquid with some grains. I'm doing just enough to keep you alive."
"You could've given me bread and water if you wanted to. But it seems like you want to care for me a little bit."
"I just punched you."
"You were horny. It's okay."
"I'm still horny. And you aren't done with the abuse once you finish eating."
"I don't feel abused right now."
"Well, you should, you're still hurting."
Vice lied on the bed and watched as he ate. She felt a little hypocritical lying about how much she cared about his welfare, but it wasn't a big deal. He could tell anyway. And even if she did say she liked seeing him enjoy a good meal, he'd still be trapped and their attitudes toward each other wouldn't change. Maybe dropping the act she'd just put on wasn't a bad idea. Once he finished the bowl, she had a question.
"Anything else you need?"
"Oh, I... I'm allowed?"
"Within reason. I'm trying to feed you."
"Well, some water would be nice, if that's okay...."
"Of course."
She left and came back with a glass of water, which he had most of. Apart from him being thirsty, it washed away the milk, which was nice. A couple other ponies he knew would have loved it, but he'd rather not have a kiss with milk involved, plus lingering milk was also platonically unpleasant. "Now come with me," she said before leaving the room. Despite his attitude as he was eating, he became nervous, almost anxious for what torture awaited him, but he followed her, and was led into the bathroom.

"Ready for a long shower where the mare above you is real?"
"Shut up...."
She slapped him on the cheek. "Get in."
He sat in the bathtub whose size enforced the room's slightly weird layout, but he was more concerned with the slightly weird sex that would doubtless happen in it. Without getting in, Vice pulled the curtain closed and turned on the water, which went straight for his face. Wondering why he chose the spot he did, he closed his eyes and backed up a bit. "Can I get a towel?"

After snickering over that, Vice did give him a towel, and he was able to watch her feel the water and adjust the temperature for a minute. He could have moved away from the wide-angle spray if he wanted, but even without being forced to stay there, he got a little masochistic thrill out of being way too cold and then way too hot for a bit. With the water pleasantly warm, Vice stepped in, then held out a bottle of shampoo to him. She had a neutral look, as if they'd done this hundreds of times before.
"I thought you were just going to..."
"We need to actually clean ourselves too. Do you remember when you rolled on some dirt and had sex and slept in a bed that's seen some things you don't want to know about?"
"Yeah...."
"We're having sex, but also you should have a proper shower."
He took the bottle and started to wash his mane. He looked slightly annoyed, but mainly he was bemused. "You know, this reminds me of when I was a little foal and my mother would be with me...."
She sat down. "You aren't the first one to say that. In fact, there was this one pony, we were doing this and he called me Mummy... it was weird. I mean, this is all weird, but what I mean is it came out of nowhere, we weren't already doing anything like that. And I wasn't even old enough to be his mother. Well, I would've been in my early teens."
"Huh.... Well, I hope you didn't mind."
"It was fine. I was happy to play along with it."
"That's good. Has someone ever really pushed something you don't like? Sorry if that's a stupid thing to ask, I... I don't know about this stuff...."
"It hasn't happened for a long time, but you know how teenagers can be, some of them are... selfish. I've never seen it from someone around my age."
"That makes sense. So I guess if I do decide I want sex all the time... well, look for it all the time... it gets better from here, right? Not right here with you, like my life in general. Assuming you aren't keeping me here forever."
"It should, yeah. Assuming you change too, of course." She got properly wet, took the bottle from beside him, and got to work on herself. "When I was around the age I'm... pretty sure you are, the ponies I knew weren't all willing to compromise much. The biggest difference as far as myself was that I didn't care about it being lovey at all, you know, feeling good physically was all I cared about. Now, I... that's still important, don't get me wrong, but I want some kind of emotion. Sex without any cuddles or affection to go with it has something important missing, right? Even something like two strangers kind of liking each other and deciding not to have a lonely night, there's something there. As opposed to the nothing that you get from some ponies. But maybe you already care about being emotional, I don't know."
He wondered why she didn't just ask him how old he was. "Well, they're just being honest, aren't they? If there's no attachment...."
"They are, but... that's not what I want. I want honesty, I mean. What I don't want is someone who treats me as a magically animated sex doll. If you agree to it and that's your thing, good for you, but if someone takes you home and as soon as they come they just wish you would both forget the other pony exists... that isn't for me. And that's different from openly just wanting something quick, I should say."
"I've heard about that kind of thing, I mostly overheard about it, from a couple ponies in those few parties I went to. It seemed like a gender thing, though. Like, whether or not the story's about being disappointed or being happy with what they did, there are some differences between what the fillies and colts want."
"Yeah, mares generally care about the emotional aspects more. Obviously not everyone is completely gender-conforming, but mostly, mares want mare things and stallions want stallion things, but most ponies want someone from the other one. Plenty's been said about that."
"Yeah. Hopefully I'll learn something from you...."
"If you want a proper sex education, I might have to keep you here for longer than I planned."
"You... you don't have to."
"Well, I don't have to do anything."

He didn't respond to that, not feeling like talking any more would improve his situation, and for a few minutes they cleaned their manes with the main noise being water hitting the tub. He gave her a couple of wary looks, and he was correct, her thoughts increasingly filled with how tempting he was with drops of water and clumps of shampoo running down his soaked body. She knew that at some point, she would become overrun with lust and have to take a break to make them both a lot less clean. Of course, she didn't have to hold back at all in the first place, but if she let something build up, it would feel that much better.

Not that it was much time before all the shower liquids had got too much, and as Mint Chip was just rubbing his mane, he found himself shoved to the floor by a mare with crazed, focussed eyes and a smile that didn't look too sane itself. His head didn't hit the tub too hard and no shampoo got in his eyes, which he was a little thankful for, but it seemed like the least the universe could do for someone who was about to be raped.
"I... thought you would build up to this a bit more...."
"Nah, just felt like keeping it to myself." He hadn't been hard despite looking at a showering Vice, being focussed on getting clean after what he'd been through, but being pinned changed that pretty quickly. As she felt it grow, the insane look only got more exaggerated, becoming slightly terrifying.
"I would think sudden is how you like it anyway."
He took a second, having to think about it. "I think you'll know what's best."
"Yeah, captives never know what's good for them...." She got a bit more horizontal, her head coming much closer to his, not quite being in his face but close to it. "At least you're accepting it."
"Well, you know more about this stuff than I do... and you can just tell what I like somehow... not that I've wanted to have sex with you in the first place most of the time, but I know you don't care about that."
"Do you want it right now?"
"Not now... maybe later... you can wait a little bit, right?"
"You're funny." With a couple small movements of her hooves and hips, he was inside her, and her expression got a bit more relaxed, looking evil rather than evil and possibly insane.
"I thought maybe you could be a little mature about it...."
"What's so immature about this? You're mine to use, so I'm using you. Demanding to have a say in something you shouldn't, that seems kind of immature."
A couple drops of water from her mane got in his eyes, and wiping them with his wet legs did enough to let him keep them partly open. "You can't really think I'm the one being unreasonable. You're just finding an excuse."
"I found my excuse the moment I saw you." She kissed him on the lips. "I know you aren't willing, but are you ready?"
He quickly blinked several times. "Er...."
"Do you need a towel again?"
"Yeah... I put it in the corner there, can you reach it?"
"No. But it's fine."

He was almost shocked seeing her get off him and give him the cloth without making him do a trick. He used it and threw it back to the corner, having an idea of what would likely happen if he tried to get up. Vice resumed the sex as she sat on top of him.
"You might want to close your eyes, there's only gonna be more water going wherever it wants."
"But... you're so pretty...."
"Aww. Well, don't say I didn't try to help."
She brought her hips up slowly, painfully slowly, then slammed down, causing pain of a different kind. As he took the literal punishment, feeling her come down onto him with timing so consistent that it didn't feel like a living creature, any negativity on his face rapidly faded. He had sparkles in his eyes as he looked into hers, and his mild frown was one suggesting shyness rather than annoyance. He couldn't even pretend not to like that she was hurting him equally as much as pleasuring, the appreciation he had for her too strong not to come through. For a minute they stared at each other, albeit with rather different kinds of staring, Vice constantly reminding her partner who the dom was and Mint Chip looking too enamoured to want any power anyway.

With Vice putting too much pressure on his upper forelegs then too much pressure on anything near his dick, the first groan he made came from a buildup of pain rather than pleasure and was as much of a pathetic whine as a groan, and immediately after, his wide open eyes got a few drops of water. He whined again, more quietly, and started blinking rapidly. She briefly pulled off to get him the towel, which was pretty wet but just about able to do the job, and that time he closed his eyes after tossing it aside.
"Okay, I wasn't moving before, but now this is serious. Do you know how much I'm going to put you through for breaking up the sex?"
"I think I have an idea...."
"Hmm. Yeah, you're probably right."
She started up again, but with her front hooves on his chest. The weight was back and so was high-pitched groaning. For the first couple dozen or so times of getting Vice's torso shoved against him, though, it had simply felt good, both dick and balls having a feeling of getting a good punch or squeeze after aching for it even though they never had been, but after that it crossed over into pain with no reason to be enjoyed other than masochism. But he had plenty of that.

Despite what his reactions were suggesting, the pain wasn't overpowering the part of the sex his body was actually telling him to like, but it certainly had some of his attention. It wasn't a massive amount of pain that his balls were going through, but it was more than a quick punch, and he never thought he'd like that. It did help knowing he was captive and she might never let him go, because though most of him wanted to have some kinky fun today and leave before evening, a part wanted to belong to her and live in her bedroom as a sex slave no one else had seen in years, and letting that part run wild wasn't a hard thing to do. He was horny, and that meant a change in priorities.

Vice picked up the pace. It wasn't exactly fast, but it was enough to get something stronger going through their bodies. Looking down at his slightly scrunched snout and seriously scrunched eyelids, she would have found him pretty cute even without him being wet all over, and she really didn't know how much longer she could go before turning the dial all the way up. Not that he would have minded her making the process shorter given the pain he was going through, which in this new speed became stronger than the pleasure, and he had to say that that was a bit much. And he did say it in the form of ever less rough and more whiny whining. That said, being forced to go through this and feel all that noise go uncared about certainly had its appeal, so he took what he had.

Seeing him in pain like that, knowing she was administering steady torture, filled Vice with lust like she wasn't already having sex. It went well with the water on her back, which apart from being pleasurable in itself made this feel private and ordinary. She showered every day and she mixed sex and torture every day, or at least that was the fantasy. And as the pleasure grew, Mint Chip felt more and more inclined to think something similar, the idea that this was just their life still being rather appealing. The pain wasn't going away, but nor was it rising, and as much as he found a way to take it positively, for it to be overtaken by the sex part of the sex was something he was more than ready to see.

Sexual whines from both of them steadily became more common, though only Vice's were obviously joyous. After a couple minutes if you asked Vice and several if you asked Mint Chip, neither of them could go more than a few breaths without doing something dramatic, and if anyone else had been around they might have found it a bit amusing, two ponies alternately making similar yet opposite sex noises. As much as she loved looking at his struggling face, Vice closed her eyes to better focus on touch, because she was getting close and it was really getting strong. The same was true of Mint Chip, but he already had his eyes closed and his mind focussed on his sex parts.

Now that he was almost to orgasm, he began to vocalise something positive, or at least he tried. It was supposed to be a happy, high "aaaaa", but it was so strained that any positivity didn't really come through. She was tempted to massively speed up at a time like this, but even more didn't want to change her rhythm, which he would've appreciated if he had known. Her jaw dropped and tongue slipped out a little as her expressions of simplistic physical joy grew louder, and Mint Chip didn't detect the drop of saliva hitting his face in the middle of all the water, not that it would've been of much concern to him alongside what else was going on.

He didn't get to enjoy being close for very long at all before he was met with an orgasm where he could just feel his body getting lighter as it happened. He made a long and struggling squeak along the way that Vice found absolutely adorable, and afterwards the pain felt much lesser. Not because it should have based on what was physically happening or even that there was a strong afterglow to distract him, but from the simple fact that a mare had taken him hard and made him come. A few "naaa"s later, that mare also made herself come, and that too came with a long monotone noise, the slightly high pitch just right to go with a mare who wasn't thinking about anything. Having both kinds of cum inside her wasn't making her feel less horny, but despite that, after riding it all out, she did over several seconds slow to a stop. To have a relaxing shower as opposed to one full of physical effort was starting to sound nice, and besides, they couldn't do this in warm water forever. For his part, Mint Chip was happy for the battery to end and to enjoy both types of cum in slowly decreasing pain, and he made a weak groan that sounded resigned. She opened her eyes, closed her mouth, and lied on him. "You seem like you need a break," she said. He nodded.
"Should I get off you?"
He took a few seconds to answer, mainly out of shock that it was apparently his decision. "We have to do it sometime... I guess now is good...."

She pulled off, sat right where she had been, and resumed washing her mane. Since she was still a little horny, she didn't do anything about the cum, because if she wasn't focussing on that it would be the teenager who looked like he needed a shower to recover from what he had just been through. He didn't get straight back to cleaning himself, lying as if he was the one who'd done any of the movement and keeping his eyes closed, because he wasn't used to sex and couldn't just get over this and move on. No matter how many times he went through the thought "a dominant and possibly slightly crazy mare has been giving me hard sex", it didn't feel normal or like the way things were supposed to be.

It took a few minutes, but he did get up and get on with showering. Sometimes he looked at Vice and sometimes he semi-looked at the white curtain or the white tiled wall, looking in their direction but not really thinking about what was in his vision, but neither trying to beat himself down with the situation or shut it out made him get over it. It took another few minutes, but Vice did decide to respond to repeatedly being looked at by someone she had power over.
"Something wrong?"
"I'm... I'm fine. Just can't believe I got into this."
"Life is crazy if you let it be."
There was no more talk by the time Vice left the shower, shortly followed by Mint Chip, who felt stunnedly pleased even further when he got to use a hot mare's towel. Despite what had just gone on, he found it exciting enough to make a few more rubs than he needed. He looked through the sink's drawers and found a comb to put his mane into his preferred style. When he left the room, he considered that on his right was the house's front wall, with the door a couple metres away. If only Vice hadn't been beside him.
"I guess I'm going back to the bedroom?"
"Well, I can't have you escaping. I won't be here all day, so you can be there or the dungeon."
"Can I at least be somewhere else as long as you are here?"
"If you want. I mean, the bedroom's where all the fun stuff is."
"I just wanna feel less... in prison."
"Huh. I don't hear that very often, but all right. I'll take you there when I need to."

She went to the couch and started reading a newspaper she'd picked up in the time he was drying himself. He stood by the door and looked at it, thinking about how she wasn't next to him and the only thing in his way was being slower. Maybe he could go into the street and scream for help a single time before she caught him and strangled him and he woke up shackled to a wall knowing he would be there forever. Or maybe it hadn't even been a whole day and obedience was still worth a shot. He wasn't an expert on these situations, but neither of those sounded like the right thing to do. After pondering his lack of options for a minute, he went up to her.
"Is it okay if I look around for a bit?"
"Sure."

He was surprised, but he wasn't going to argue. He went to the kitchen, and when he stepped in, on his right was the most notable thing, the pizza oven, peel hung beside it. The wall also had a square window he was tempted to try to quietly open and climb through. Way to his left, at the other end of the room, small tables with some exposed fruit and muffins tempted him to stock up on calories before the starvation that was surely planned, but he had an idea of how she'd react to finding any food missing. In between, along one long wall were the counter and sink and opposite that were some cabinets.

He turned back and realised that the only door left was whatever this miniature dungeon was, and he wondered whether he should try to go in. Did it have horrible secrets, too horrible for anyone to be allowed out alive? Was this pony a serial killer, that was all he wanted to know. After thinking for a second, he decided that if any easily findable evidence of felonies were around, she wouldn't have ambivalently told him to go ahead, so he went to the opposite corner to see just what he was missing by being a good colt.

What he was missing was a dim room with walls of dull grey stone, with a few crates, a desk, and a mattress each in their corner to make it technically not empty. The shackles in the middle of one wall suggested, or really outright stated, that it could get even worse than that. He stepped in, closed the door, and walked around, his hooves against the stone floor echoing in the closed stone room three or four metres to a side. He took his time to look over each feature like it was an exhibit he was really into, trying to feel what it was like to actually be imprisoned in here. He felt like he'd alternate being bored and horny and those were the only two things he'd ever feel, but maybe for some the boredom was relaxation. Part of him wanted to find out, but a bigger part preferred to be somewhere bright with books and bedding.

Satisfied that the bedroom had been the right choice, he heard the door get locked. He hadn't noticed, but like the bedroom, it was done on the outside. He ran up to the door and gave a couple knocks hard enough to rattle it.
"Yes?"
"Please don't leave me here, I really don't want this, I wanna go back to my life... and if you won't do that, at least keep me in the bedroom...."
"It ain't everyone that goes in here on their own and closes the door. I thought I was taking a hint."
"Well, you got it wrong. So just let me out."
"Why should I?"
"Because I told you, I don't want to be in here. It was a misunderstanding, I'm not blaming you." He did blame her, but he wasn't going to say that.
"I know *you* don't like it in here. Why should *I* let you out?"
"But that was the reason. It's the same thing, right?"
She sighed. "Yeah, you're right."
She unlocked the door and went back to the couch and back to the news. He followed and sat on the floor beside her, which made him feel a bit like a dog, which made him feel a bit horny. "Do you have a fetish for chaining ponies up when they lose track of a train of logic?"
She didn't look at him. "I wouldn't say it's that specific."
There was silence for a few seconds. "So I guess you were right when you said the bedroom's the fun one."
"I would know."
Another bit of silence. "Are you mad at me?"
"No. I know what you like, I wasn't disappointed. I was just playing with you. And I love power tripping, if you haven't figured that out."

Not knowing what to do, he did nothing. Sitting by her, waiting on her, didn't feel too bad anyway. For a while, she read and he looked at her, her thoughts on being sad about disasters and politics and his on a steadily rising desire to lick her in various places. She could see him when she turned her head a bit to the left, which she only did a couple of times before she finished reading, one leading to eye contact that he quickly looked down from and the other revealing that he wasn't staring at but certainly showing interest in her ass. Even though he felt like he'd had enough after the shower, sitting by her side had sent him straight back to being horny. After she folded up the paper, she had a question for him.
"Is there something you want?"
"Eh... um, well, it's basically—"
"So you want sex."
"Yeah... I'm sorry...."
"I raped you like five times yesterday, I don't think you have to apologise for that. But I just washed myself and I'm pretty much about to leave, so you'll have to wait until this evening."
"All right...."
She got up and went to the kitchen, and he followed. He also followed her every step as she made a sandwich and went to the table, then sat by her.
"I already said no."
"Sh—should I go?"
"I don't mind. You just seem hopeful."
"I just don't have something better to do. I wanna... wait on you."
"Well, I won't argue with that."

Vice had her sandwich as Mint Chip awkwardly looked around, then she went to the bedroom, not telling him to come with, as she correctly figured it wasn't necessary. She got a clean hoodie, which made him to think to put on his clothing. The fact that it was a single article for his neck struck him as appropriate.
"All right, I'll get you some food and water and then you'll be in here until I get back."
"What if I need the bathroom?"
"Hold it."
She twice left and came back, first with a bowl of water she placed next to the door then the food. He sat and checked it out, and the dried fruit, nuts, and seeds looked somewhat similar to what he'd previously had. He gave it a neutral non-reaction.
"Yep, that's what you've got."
"I mean...." He took a bite of it. "It's just trail mix. Is this supposed to be bad?"
"It's bird food and you should feel degraded. Why are you okay with this?"
"You could give me dog food. Or bread. If you really wanted me to feel like you don't care about me, you could do it."
"Fine, like the animal feed. Weirdo."

She closed and locked the door behind her. He promptly lied on the bed and fantasised like he had many times before, thinking about all the terrible things a mare was doing to him or making him do, and after a while he came inside her for the third time, which in the real world equated to on his chest for the first time. He gathered the cum with a hoof and licked it up, and almost immediately after he was hit with mixed feelings. Part of him said he didn't do anything special and now he had nothing to do, and another took the view he was getting a bite of the life he often wanted when he was horny enough. Being locked up and lying on a bed with nothing to do but let all his lust out, whether or not that was with someone, was something he knew wouldn't be a fast-paced experience, he was just worried it would be boring a lot of the time.

He decided to look through the books again. The first thing he found that interested him explained how ponies ever lived before this and that technology, or how they didn't in the cases of many of the medical advancements, and many inventions, techniques, and dishes turned out to be much older or younger than he thought. Coincidentally, spending most of his time being mildly entertained reading about living conditions of the distant past was what he would have been doing had this been a normal day, the difference being that he wasn't going to be tested on it in a couple days. Whether that was because the material was different or he wouldn't be in the classroom he didn't know.

Another skinny mare-sized late colt would be getting a lot of attention from Vice. She had gone away for a training session with him, and though he wasn't someone she had a sexual relationship with, she could see him making a couple embarrassed remarks about how he had always found her hot. It would never happen, and the only things she would ever shout in his face about were how he wasn't giving all he had and how she knew he was better than this. She could tell that at this rate, he would go the distance and not collapse into a nearly dead pile of sweat for her. Despite how many times she had said it in their time together, the double meaning had never occurred to him, and it never would.

The sky was just getting dark. Mint Chip in his windowless room didn't know that, but he felt he had spent half a day reading about historical lifestyles and reviews of films he hadn't heard of that compared them to more films he hadn't heard of, and he was right. He heard the front door, he heard some hoofsteps, and Vice came in. As he often was, he was lying on a bed with a book in front of him, but he didn't need to look up from it, having been almost staring at the door in anticipation.
"Heeey, how is my latest slave doing?"
He had to be honest with her. It was the basest of desires, represented by a word that started with an H and ended with a Y. "Hungry."
"Nice, I was hoping you'd be."
"Why? Is there something you want to make?"
"No, I just like knowing you were hungry. Feels so... dungeony."
"Right...." He looked at the book for a moment. "You're a sick sadist."
"I know. Anyway, I'm hungry too, so I will actually make something."
Vice went to the kitchen and Mint Chip went to the bathroom. She got to work on her next black-hearted concoction that would disgust him into feeling obedient, and this time it would work, assuming he didn't like vegetables. When he came out, he went to the front door and lightly touched the handle. Again he considered what would likely happen if he tried to leave, but the same conclusion that she would hear the door, chase after and catch him, and throw him in the dungeon to be a sex slave forever was what he came to. What he needed was her to be asleep or otherwise unable to respond and him to not be trapped, but he couldn't see that happening. He sighed inside and went back to the bedroom, lied on the bed, and thinking of how genuinely helpless he was, touched himself.

For the second time in his life, a mare came in to bring him food and saw him slowly, casually masturbating. She put a bowl and a few napkins on the bedside table and turned around to get her own. He crawled a few paces to look at the bowl more closely, and what he found was a slab of something too drenched in sauce and cheese to identify on a bed of farfalle. He supposed the scheme was to make whatever it was extra disgusting by surrounding it with something nice, and decided he'd get around to having it once he had calmed down sexually. Thinking of how Vice was about to come back and do something illegal, he went back to stroking himself, and though he wasn't doing anything intense, after a minute his dick went from relaxed about it to needy, as if it'd been a week since his last orgasm. He didn't expect it, but he obliged, ditching the slowness and not concerning himself with what she would do if she found him unready. He huffed and trembled like something was really happening as the imaginary Vice got faster, because the situation he found himself in not only got him to start in the first place but really did make it feel stronger than the average time in the bathroom did. Right after a girly, strained whine, he again came on his chest and again scraped it off and licked it up.

After looking at the ceiling for a minute, he decided it was time to see what the dish she had brought him was. He had a couple bites and found the mystery ingredient to be a piece of aubergine, which didn't seem right. It was food, for ponies, and not even associated with barely subsisting. He didn't feel like he was starving in a cell. Was this spiked? What was the catch? Despite the suspicion, knowing he could eat this or nothing, he finished it. He waited a few minutes and Vice didn't come, and he needed to know what was up. Why would she come home after a long day and not abuse anyone? He left the bedroom and saw her at the dining table, and he went across to her.
"Vice? Sh, should I call you Vice? Master? Um... I expected to see you in there. Like, aren't you horny right now? Well, I assume you haven't had sex since you left...."
"You went in there, so I thought you wanted to be alone."
"No, that's just... where I belong...."
"You can come out here, it's all right. If I want you in a certain room, I'll let you know. So did you like your food?"
"Yeah. I d—"
She stood up with her front hooves on the table. "What? How? You know what I gave you, shut up."
"You know, you... we went over this already, can't you admit that you don't want to torture me? I mean, you do, but... not through food."
"I know I'm not literally giving you bits of barley in a bowl of water or something like that, but...."
"Yeah?"
She sat down. "I want to say it's to give you something to lose if you disobey, but... all right, the truth is I care about you. My dream isn't to have a slave I put in shackles in a dark room and barely keep alive... sometimes I'm in the mood for that, I've done that to ponies, but what I want more than anything is a kind of mistress... what's a male mistress? Mister? I think that's right. Whatever you'd call a stallion who stays in my bedroom who I have a deep and affectionate but mostly sexual relationship with. That or a boyfriend, but I'm kind of losing hope on that one."
"Aww...." He took a seat across from her. "I think you could find a boyfriend, I feel like there's someone out there for you. Someone who would like your style and even your... the fact you're a serial rapist. I mean, I – never mind. I don't know what you want, maybe the problem's the other way and I'm talking about something that isn't the problem, but I'm pretty sure there are ponies who'd like you."
"Okay, first of all, what would you know. I'm speaking from experience, and I get the idea you haven't been on too many dates, and I *know* you haven't known me for very long. Also, I am going to mind, tell me what you were going to say."
"Well, I... I know I wouldn't mind dating a rapist, if they did it in the same kind of way you do. Keeping it to ponies who like it."
"So you like it? That explains a lot... not that I can act surprised...."
"Well, I didn't mean it like that, I..."
"How did you mean it?"
"Just that I'm not traumatised by it and... you know, yeah, I've been able to take it well. I wish you'd let me go, but... I'm taking what I can from a bad situation, that's what I mean."
"I see. That's what someone who wants to go would say, you d... you know, I'm too annoyed to even be sarcastic. We've been over this. So why are you talking to me if you say you don't want sex? Isn't that what this was about?"
"I'm not asking for it, I was just confused."
"Well, if you don't want to be alone, I can be with you after I'm done. Wouldn't mind someone to hold right now."
"Just holding, right?"
"Yeah. If I want to fuck you, it isn't your choice anyway."
"Tha... that's true."

He went back and sat on the bed, and after a couple minutes, Vice came and leapt onto it, her chosen trajectory being straight at him. The pain in his ribs elicited a groan, but a mare holding him would make it fade pretty quickly.
"So... Vice... how was your day?"
"It was all right. I had two ponies with me, and one of them was on a bad day so I ended up helping him more, and that made the other annoyed with me, but it wasn't anything too bad. The weird fruit sandwich I had for lunch was surprisingly good, that's... all I've really got."
"If it was weird, why did you have it?"
"That's exactly why. Some of us like to explore and have new experiences."
"Sorry.... I just don't do things I think I won't like, n, not trying to be insulting...."
"Maybe you need to value novelty a bit more. I don't know, I haven't been spying on you."
"Sorry... well, after what you've done to me I'm not that sorry, but...."
"What, you think your punishment should be over by now? I could keep you here for a week and it'd be justified."
"Even if I do need to experience more of the world, I don't think that includes being foalnapped."
"That isn't even what I'm talking about. I mean what you—"
"I know, I just thought I could be clever."
She put her front hooves on his chest and looked down at him with a straight face of anger. "Did you fucking cut me off?"
His eyes went wide with fear. "Well... yes...."
"*That* wasn't very clever." She punched his right cheek hard enough to get him to narrow those wide eyes. "Why does everyone need a punishment inside their punishment...."
"I don't need one, you can stop if you want."
"I'm the one who decides if you need one." She punched his left cheek hard enough to get him to whine. "I think you know that."
"So if you don't wanna do this... you don't have to. You seem pretty annoyed about it."
"I'm annoyed with your behaviour, I don't mind beating you up over it. If you're going to reason with me, try something other than 'breaking my ribs won't be fun', because it would."
"You... you're a good pony and hurting someone so vulnerable would be unimaginable?"
"Well, the first part is true. Now, what should I break first...."
"That, that's a joke, right? You aren't actually going to break anything?"
"Just your spirit."

She turned his left foreleg such that the knee faced up and drew her hoof back. Immediately he wanted to turn it back because that was the way of least resistance, but he kept it that way and mentally braced for impact. She put a good amount of her weight behind the punch to his knee, and it wasn't not painful, but with a mattress on the other end, it wasn't very strong either. He stopped looking in pain or scared.
"Huh. Can you sit against the wall?"
"You'll have to drag me there."
"All right." She took his hoof and effortlessly put the whole thing in her mouth, which he was so impressed by he only found a little silly-looking, but what he didn't find amusing was the pain when she bit down on his leg firmly enough that she could take him a metre or so to the other end of the bed. He whined as he felt every point of her teeth try to break his skin, and it was only a few seconds before she released his hoof and casually pushed his back to the wall as he made no resistance, but the stinging of around twenty point wounds that didn't quite exist lingered. "Now let's try this again...."
"You don't want to crack the wall, do you?"
"I've absolutely shoved ponies into this and it's held up. Your bones will break before the wall does, trust me."
"I, I thought you said you wouldn't break anything."
"I won't. Just telling you not to worry."
"But you've done that before?"
"There was one pony. So if you've ever wanted to be bedridden, just let me know."
She turned the same leg the same way as before, drew her hoof back, and grunted as she delivered the punch. He groaned as he received it, and after having his muzzle scrunched and teeth grit for a few seconds, he shook his head and looked at her like nothing had happened. Seeing where she was looking and the angle of her leg, he expected the next long punch to be for his face, but she went for his neck. After the hit, he held his mouth open and wanted to cry, and that time he looked like he cared for more than a few seconds. Even without the open mouth he would've looked shocked. "What next..." Vice said, and after several seconds of looking around his body, she went for a punch to the leg, just below his right shoulder. He made a tiny whine, because it did hurt a little, but not enough to take his mind off his larynx having nearly been crushed, or so it felt. A couple seconds later, it was his chest's turn, and that one made his back hurt more than anything else. It wasn't so bad, and a little grunt was the only reaction.

"You know, I'm taking this way too slow. I need to just kind of beat you up and do it more natural." Given that it hadn't been a minute since she'd started and he already didn't want to raise his jaw because that would hurt, he didn't much like the idea, and he shook his head. "No, I really think that's the better way to torture you. You want to convince me otherwise, you can actually make an argument."
"Uh...."
"You look so stupid like that." She pushed his mouth shut. As soon as she stopped touching it, he let his jaw drop a little bit, not quite enough for his mouth to open. "So anything you want to say or am I going to hurt you?"
"You like me so you would never do that to me?"
"Pretty sure you already tried that one."
"You... maybe you can tell it's too much for me?"
"It isn't too much until something breaks."
"Don't, don't you ever have sex where no one gets hurt?"
"Oh, sure. But you deserve pain."
She hit him in the chest, half a second later hit him in the face, and didn't let up. One punch to the cheek or ribs or a leg wasn't anything to care about, even being against a hard wall, but thirty or forty later he wasn't feeling as good about it. She was careful not to hit hard enough to actually injure him, though "careful" wasn't a word that would come to anyone's mind looking at what was happening. The pain of being hit in a spot already sore grew a little every strike, and a long, straight mouth and tightly shut eyes showed the struggle. He could tell she was holding back, and he wasn't losing his mind over it, but he wouldn't call it mild. The slightly deep thumps of the chest hits and slightly high thumps of the face hits, the evilly smiling Vice he wasn't looking at, and his legs feeling a little more bruised every second, at least every second she didn't spend on making his teeth feel a throbbing pain that he thought didn't make much sense for bones but was definitely there, made for a somewhat muted version of what he imagined blunt force torture to be, and that was still rather painful.

He wasn't counting, but he felt he'd been punched just below each shoulder at least a dozen times when one hit in particular really hurt, feeling less like a hoof with moderate effort and more like, maybe not a ton of bricks, but certainly at least one brick being thrown at him. He groaned like the bookworm unaccustomed to physical discomfort he was, and after a few more that went to various places on his legs without getting much of a reaction, for a few seconds there was nothing. He somewhat narrowly opened his eyes just in time to see her throw her weight into that spot high on his right foreleg, and when it landed, he screamed for a moment. Despite it being oddly short for a scream, the pain was not oddly short, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to put a hoof on it or if an extra bit of pressure was the last thing he needed. He certainly didn't need another weighty punch there a couple seconds after, but that was what he got, and he practically wailed in a way that made Vice wonder why no one had ever got the police over to ask her tricky questions. Eyes again firmly shut, he took a couple deep breaths in anticipation of the next one, which did happen, and the volume of the resulting whine made her close her eyes for a second.

"Hmm... have you suffered enough?"
"Yes." His voice was a little squeaky.
"I was more talking to myself."
"Please stop... I'm not going to hurt you...."
She punched him in the neck, and the whine he made sounded like it was from a little colt. Next was a quick bunch of punches to his chest, reminiscent of the rapid-fire part of a massage except for the part where it felt nice, then she went to his face, the left cheek then the right and over and over again, the force turning his head each time. "I could do this all day if it didn't make me so horny," she said as he made some "uhn" sounds. Other than that, he took the first score of hits well, but once again the hitting of somewhere already in pain got to him, and he made a brief but loud "ahh", then another after a few more punches, then one that trailed off. A few hits after that was another whine, this one sounding his age, which got a chuckle out of her.
"You're not taking this all very well." She stopped just to let him respond.
"I'm... I'm a bit of a wimp about pain, I know...."
She hit his left cheek with effort, all the speed she could muster. "You can say that again."
"I'm not going to watch you again, okay? You can stop...."
"What did I just tell you? I'm the one who decides when you've had enough."
In a few punches from his hoof to his shoulder, she made sure his whole right foreleg hurt, one side directly taking the impact and the other crushed between that and a wall he really felt should've cracked at least once with how much energy she was putting into this. She then did the same for the left leg, halfway up which he whined like he was about to cry, which didn't make her cancel or even delay the job.

"Okay, come with me," she said. She left the room, and he opened his eyes and followed her despite his front legs complaining a bit with every step. They went to the kitchen, and as soon as he was in there, she pushed him down, sat down, and did some relatively light pushes to have him spread-eagled on the floor. Being tile, it felt much harder than the bed and a little harder than the uncrackable wall, and he felt he knew where this was going.
"You said you wouldn't break anything, right?"
"Again, not anything physical."
She hit his right shoulder a couple times, coming down on it with her leg as a battering ram, then stopped. He made a tiny grunt for the first one. "Yeah, this isn't going to work," she said. "Stay here." As he heard her walk away, there was inevitably a temptation to run for it, but he stayed. She came back holding in her wing a steel bar about the length of her leg, shorter than but otherwise quite similar to the other bar he'd seen. He was sure there were plenty of legitimate uses, but he knew what it was for in this context, and he prayed that like the other one it was mostly hollow. She sat in front of him, close enough to comfortably clop him with her front hooves, which she did.
"Why aren't you hard already with how much pain you're in? Not that it's that bad yet, but you're such a wimp about it."
"I'm just thinking about how to get through it."
"What I'd tell you for what I'm about to do is don't try to drive away the pain. Accept it's happening, relax, take it in."
"I have to be honest, I can't relax right now."
"Well, don't say I didn't try to help."
She stopped the clopping, and in its place came wild, angry strikes to his right foreleg or his chest, wherever her imitation anger put the bar next. She didn't have an evil grin, but in the pout and smile he could almost see one, at least for the few seconds he had his eyes open. Skin was bent well beyond what felt comfortable, muscle was being forced into a space it wasn't all meant to be, and bones were impressing him with how much they could really take. It was the muscle that really felt concerning, or not concerning so much as there definitely being some kind of problem. He knew he was getting bruised and the question was how much.

Thirty seconds and about as many hits in, the feeling in his chest was certainly worth a grimace, but it was holding up all right, whereas his leg had six places for him to tell ponies "don't touch me there". Of course, he did get touched there, and not gently. It was at that point when he started groaning and screaming, usually a bit of both simultaneously, a scream with some roughness to it. He didn't know how he kept finding the air for them, with every attempt to make a deep inhale that felt badly needed at the time being interrupted by another scream, but he was glad he could. The next thirty made him want to flail that leg everywhere, just shake it out, and his leg did start shaking, but not of his volition. For her that was more motivation, as if it was needed. The next few hits to his leg each gave him a "seriously, do not touch me there" feeling where he knew she wasn't giving him any more bruises, just making the existing ones worse. He was thankful for every time she chose his chest, the lack of soft tissue making it much more tolerable.

Having screamed through plenty of cases of something that went well beyond being poked in a sore spot, one hit got him particularly hard. He didn't know what it was about that one, but based on what he felt, he thought there should have been a wet cracking noise, and he opened his eyes wide and once again screamed loudly enough that Vice squinted until he was finished, which also meant stopping the hitting. Nevertheless, he began to cry, and if his leg shook much more it might take some timing to hit in the right place. It wasn't a mystery exactly what the sobbing was about, the place she just hit looking rather purple for a green pony. She gave her clit a few quick rubs and transferred the bar to her other wing.

The first few hits on the left foreleg were painful, but they were a loud "ow", not a scream to the heavens. He wanted to close his eyes again, but the tears made him blink a lot. Most of the next ten or so hits were worth a groan, but he was doing that from the lingering pain already. Still crying a little, he cried more than a little when the same pain he had on his right foreleg got going. Sometimes groaning, sometimes screaming, sometimes sobbing, and often combining them, several strikes went by where he took comfort in the fact that at least one leg was let loose and at least she was still trying to smash his chest sometimes. As he got more beat up, this became harder to do, and the fact that this situation was just what had got him to cry but extra was increasingly difficult not to think about. His whole body convulsed slightly as he took in the reality that he was in the kitchen of someone he'd met yesterday, he was in a town he didn't live in, his family didn't know if he'd ever be back, he didn't either, and not even concerns like those did a good job of distracting him from the worst physical pain he'd been through since learning to fly, and even those accidents just hit him hard once, left him with the bruises, and let him get over it.

After a few more hits with one leg feeling at its end and the other feeling at its end and still being beaten up, again one came in that felt particularly big, really feeling like something had collapsed. It wasn't a bone, it was a muscle, but something in his body was not as straight as it was supposed to be. He scream-whined as the tears ramped up again, and he turned his head to the side and wiped some with a shaky wing. With both upper forelegs having a bruise bad enough that it showed through the fur, Vice stopped.
"Now we're talking. What was that, only a couple minutes, but... your body looks like it can't take much more. Not that side of the waist."
"Please... no... legs...."
"Oh, all right. But I'll hit you one more time."
She shuffled back a little and struck him across the stomach. He screamed like he'd been holding something back on that front, the nearby window doing well to survive, and he cried enough to make a slipping hazard. "All right," she said, "Let's get you somewhere softer."

She got prone on the floor, pulled him onto her back, and carried him back to the bed, where she carefully lied and slowly pulled him off, rather than lazily dumped him as he expected. She dropped the rod off the bed.
"Need anything? Food? Water? Cuddles?"
He was still groaning and crying. "Pf... peh...."
"I'll be here for you."
If he was being honest, having her right next to him wasn't what he needed, but he was too busy making pained noises to tell her that. He imagined, correctly, that she was looking over his bruised body and finding it increasingly hard not to touch herself, but he was okay with that, because he was okay with anything that let him recover from the pain.

Except for the occasional thought about his family being worried, Mint Chip didn't spend the next half hour thinking about much other than the pain. As strong as it was, it was slowly but steadily declining, and that's what he kept reminding himself. There was still a long whine every so often, because he was still in a lot of pain and no amount of self-encouragement would change that, but he knew he'd be out of here soon, probably, depending on what she wanted with him. As for her, sitting next to a teenager, or at the very least someone who couldn't be far away from one, as he cried and sometimes wailed in pain that she knew she was responsible for made for too much not to do something about. As much of a proud rapist as Vice was, she had her doubts as to whether he'd enjoy being ridden right now, so she kept the fast pace and firm pressure to her own genitalia. Both times she came, there was an overwhelmed shout, though it wasn't from her.

The pain having faded from arguably the worst he ever knew to like someone of just average strength had just punched him for two or three minutes, he felt ready to speak again.
"Can I get some water?"
"Of course, go ahead."
He took a few seconds to decide if clarifying was a good idea. "Can you get me some water? I still don't really want to walk."
"Oh, sure." She thought for a moment about refilling the bowl, but she left and came back with the glass, which she put on the table. "Now, what were we talking about?"
"Um... you wish I'd be more willing to try new things?"
"Right. Well, I can't be angry about it anymore, got that all out. So if something seems like it might be cool to you, just give it a chance."
"I'll try to do that more. Maybe not if it involves being tortured."
"Why not?"
"Because... I can't tell you I don't like pain, but that was a bit much...."
"Was it? It sure looked like you liked it."
"Then what is it supposed to look like when someone doesn't like it?"
"The tone of their screaming, their tone and sometimes their wording in how they tell you to stop it... it's hard to tell you how a scream sounds different, but it isn't hard to identify, right."
"I don't know how I'm telling you I like it...."
"I suppose until you've heard the horror of genuine sexual suffering, you can't see how you're being so different. I wish I had a way to show you... or I don't, because no one needs to listen to that... but yeah, I'm making it sound less subtle than it is sometimes, but you can tell."
"I guess I... okay, I see what you're saying, I need more experience, but I don't *really* want to witness a rape... or torturing...."
"You seem happy to be a part of one."
He didn't know what to say to that, so now seemed like a good time to drink some of the water he'd got distracted from. "So now is it okay if I can just lie here for a while without getting beaten or raped?"
"Yeah, you've had your punishment. We're having sex tonight, but for now, I'll let you relax. Not that painful sex can't be relaxing...." She got off the bed and lied in front of the bookshelves. "You want to just lie there? Don't want to do something?"
"Well, not reading, just 'cause moving my leg to turn the page sounds like a lot right now.... I know I just did it, but I need water, it's only... that's the only way it could be worth it."
"Not wanting to move does limit your options. But really, is that all you want?"
"I've had enough action for now."
"Oh, fine.... Gotta find another toy to play with. I mean, I don't need to, I'm not feeling too needy. That just felt like a cool thing to say."

As Mint Chip waited for the pain to fade and his legs to be willing to move normally, he thought about the situation. He'd done that enough already and it hadn't made him happier, but it was hard to stay away from. He'd been in here since yesterday evening, so it had been a full day now, and the pony between him and the door hadn't really shown signs of wanting to let him go. He could stay here for quite a while, assuming she wouldn't cause him internal bleeding every day, and even a new life as her domestic sex slave might be agreeable to him, though he would need to know her quite a bit better before he would actually choose it. As before, who he was more concerned for were his family, especially because by now he certainly hadn't stayed over with someone unannounced, he was just a missing pony. It made him wonder what they were doing. Was there a search on? Were they at home worried and scared? Obviously they weren't happy, but he wanted to know how hopeful each of them felt. How would the second night not having him back be? He knew it was a useless thing to worry about, but he was going to ask himself how his sister would react to someone close to her being missing until he wore himself out.

Accepting he didn't want to do anything, Vice went back on the bed. She lied beside him and looked at him with a smug expression slightly different from the propositioning one she wore all the time.
"I have a few more things I want to know about you, is that okay?" she said.
"That's fine."
"Have you ever suffered consequences before for watching someone like you did? Even just a telling off?"
"I've got a few angry looks and a couple ponies screaming at me to never come back, but... no real consequences...."
"And do you never come back?"
"Yeah, that's what I do, I really don't want to get caught after someone's already been angry with me once. They might, you know, they might actually do something...."
"And who knows what that would be like." She patted him on the head. Any extra pressure anywhere was not something he wanted, but he didn't react. "Have I told you you should be happy it was someone like me who finally did do something instead of someone who'd just tell the police? Or your parents, if you're with them? I know voyeurism doesn't leave any evidence, but as soon you were asked about it... something makes me think you can't keep up a lie."
"I'd be happier if I could move without it being painful."
"Sure, sure. So is this something you particularly enjoy doing or is it just the closest thing you can get to actual sex?"
"Well, it's both. It's not *that* big, but I do have a thing for it. So mostly it's just the realest thing I can get, it makes me feel more than looking at a picture that's just staged anyhow... if I had a partner who was as horny as me, I wouldn't be doing it."
"That's something else I want to know, what kind of pony would be a good partner for you? And what kind of thing do you want, do you want a romantic relationship or just sex?"
"Well... of course I'd like to be in love, I want a girlfriend, it's just that how much sex I want in a relationship is... a lot.... And I feel like no filly or mare is like that, no one who also wants a relationship, and so the best I can do is something that's just sexual."
"I know what you mean, but there are mares who are obsessed with sex too without it being the only thing they're after. Not as many as stallions, don't get me wrong. But look at me, I exist. It'll take a while to find someone, but... that's how it is, right."
"I don't know. I'm sure you've spent a lot more time looking for love than me."
"Yeah. So I can tell you mares can be lusty too. It limits your options, but so does caring about anything else."
"It's actually really good to hear that from a mare. Makes me not want to give up on it."
"You certainly shouldn't give up before you've even tried. I hope you find who you're looking for, whoever that is... you still need to answer that one. Give me some poniality traits."
"Well, I'll try.... She's nice, but not too nice, like, tells it how it is, isn't afraid to make a mean joke to me... but in general she's a kind pony, you know? She's outgoing, she likes doing new things, but that doesn't mean she's super cheery... like, a more relaxed kind of cheery, how can I explain what I'm thinking of.... Not a lot gets to her, she doesn't really need to despair about anything. But that doesn't mean she doesn't care. Especially about what *she* does, she can be a bit of a perfectionist, even. I'm probably not giving you a good image of everything, I have one in my head, but...."
"Yeah, you're confusing me, but that's okay. It can be hard to describe that sort of thing on the spot. Apparently. I've never had trouble with it, but I know other ponies do."
"Um... thanks... maybe.... What else do you want to ask me?"

"There was one more thing, what was it.... Right, tell me how you got your cutie mark, that's a basic thing I don't know."
"Well, my family, we'd tried a lot of different minty ice creams, every ice cream place around us we knew, most of the products we could find, and none of them were really what we wanted. We, uh... ice cream is a big thing for us. The search was fun for a little while, but at some point... I mean, I still liked the process, but everyone else had kind of... I was the only one who wasn't bored with it."
"So why'd you keep doing it? Were you just determined at that point or what?"
"Well, like I said, it's a big thing. Both my parents are really into it, so then they got their foals into it. Not that getting a foal to care a lot about anything that sugary is really hard, probably, but it's stuck with me. Anyway, after trying what everyone else had made, we decided to give it a go ourselves. It wasn't the first time we'd be playing around with ice cream recipes, but so far all we'd made was... like, usually we'd eventually come up with something decent, but it was never as good as the best thing we could find somewhere else. Do you like experimenting with food? Do you know what I'm talking about?"
"Well, I try to make completely new stuff. Like, here's a sandwich or a salad I haven't seen anywhere before. So having anything to compare it with is... it's the opposite of what I wanna do."
"Okay, I see. So we got a good amount of all the ingredients we could imagine wanting, and we just started testing stuff out. I don't know how much detail I should get into about adjusting ratios and such, but... eventually we stopped making huge changes and it was more about zeroing in, and actually we split up...."
"What does that mean?"
"My mother and I wanted a really strong mint taste, like... what's a good way to describe it... like the way a candy cane makes your mouth feel, we wanted an ice cream that did that. And with hints of a couple other things. But my dad and sister wanted something less aggressive and also more even. More like a chocolate mint from a hotel made into ice cream. So we each started working towards our own thing. Though I was the one doing most of the work since I was the biggest fan of mint in the family so she wanted to let me drive it. And even more so later in because it took so long that at some point I was the only one who had a lot of enthusiasm for it very often. It didn't help that we'd already had one long mint journey with trying to just find it and it wasn't a success."
"Did they see you as kind of weird for still being so dedicated to it?"
"Well, we'd done long projects like this before, so it wasn't like it could've been, but yeah, especially near the end, it became more like 'this is your project and sometimes I'm helping you'. The other pair, my dad and sister, they were satisfied long before I was and they stopped.... So late into it, it was pretty much just me, but they weren't judgmental about it. It was a bit of a weird feeling, actually, because I was so used to my parents doing most of it since... well, since we were foals and we didn't have a lot of good ideas. In the past couple years I'd gradually been getting more involved for real, but there was nothing like this."
"Just for you or...."
"For any of us, actually. None of them had taken this long. So after a few months... not that I was doing this every day because you can't eat ice cream every day, but still, it was pretty often, and so after a lot of adjusting, I found something I really loved that I didn't think had any flaws. When my mother tried it, she was really happy too, so we were happy to say the project was complete."
"And is that how you get your cutie mark? Your mum likes your ice cream?"
"Well, it wasn't just her. Since it was the first time I'd done most of the working out, and to get a little more out of something that took so long, when summer came around we brought it to this event. Think of it like a local salsa contest but it's ice cream. We were just having fun with it and not expecting much, or at least that was the idea, but of course I got nervous. Anyway, there wasn't much we could do, just give some to the panel and have a good time at the... little ice cream meetup potluck thing. And it *was* pretty little, it wasn't this huge convention, but still... it was more than just a few friends getting together."
"I don't know if there's supposed to be suspense here, but seeing how you got your cutie mark, I take it your recipe went over pretty well."
"Yeah. So most of the ponies there were sampling a lot of stuff, right, that's part of why you're there, and almost everyone who tried ours seemed to either really like it or say it was too minty. Like, what's 'too minty'? So that made me feel a little better. Then near the end of the day, it was time for the big announcement with the results, and... there was an overall and there were categories for flavours, right, the best chocolatey one and things like that. For a lot of them there weren't very many, but the big ones, like strawberry, cookie dough, there were a good number. And I won the mint category.
"When I heard that, I felt this... there was this confidence and even sense of purpose that wasn't like anything I'd ever felt. I was fifteen and I wasn't the most confident pony, you can probably imagine what I was like, and it was so different. I'd always got good grades, there were a few games I was pretty good at, a few jobs where I'd heard 'you could be this', but this was the first time where *I* felt like I was properly good at something in a sense that... like, I could actually do this. I could make flavours for some big company and feel like I should be there. Not right this second, not like that, but... I could see it. So I got my mark, and... I didn't notice, so why there was so much applause for me I didn't understand, 'cause there was just a little 'heeey' for all the other awards. I asked the pony giving the little... I guess you'd call them certificates, something like that, I asked if mint was an especially big thing to this event somehow, and he pointed out to me that I didn't have a cutie mark the last time I was standing here to give my thing to the judges, and did I just walk through a whole crowd of ponies without knowing about it... so that's when I learned...."
"How did you take having a whole audience for it now that you knew that?"
"I just made an appreciative nod and got out of there. You weren't supposed to spend a lot of time soaking it in anyway, that would've been... not appropriate for a smallish thing like this. So I just got back into the crowd as quickly as I could without seeming like I didn't care about the contest."
"Makes sense. So are you doing anything right now to go for a food industry job, or...."
"Well, it's not really something you can study for very directly, so I'm not doing anything specific about it. I don't even know how you're supposed to get into that.... But if I do end up working at a restaurant, you know, maybe that's a way in, indirectly. Serving food is... closer to making recipes, career-wise, than something totally in a different business. Right? I've heard of staff from other parts of a restaurant becoming cooks."
"You want to be a waiter with that kind of social confidence? And while we're here, you want to do mail delivery with those wings?" She sat up and spread her wings, showing they were oddly muscular in places. "You need something like this if you want to do that."
"Well, it'd mostly just be a paper route, if I'm being honest, nothing... I don't know, heavy-duty...."
She closed her wings. "It's a shame you can't jump to the bit you actually want. I can totally see you spending all day in a laboratory tweaking ratios."
"Yeah.... What about you, what do you do since being an athlete didn't work out?"

"I'm still involved in it. Well, not 'still', but a few years ago I got back into the racing world. Now I'm a trainer and a coach, mostly for ponies who're in youth leagues. Not 'still learning how to fly' kind of young, like sixteen to twenty-two. After that, uh... they move on to someone who actually raced at that age. Adults aren't my specialty."
"They aren't your specialty to have sex with either...."
"Hey, I mainly have sex with adults, you don't know what my ponial life is like. You think I'm some loser who can only get anyone your age?"
"You didn't even get me, you raped me."
"Yeah, well, you like it, that's what matters. You got any other unwarranted insults for the pony who would love to break every bone you've got and leave you as a horrifying bendy pile of flesh?"
"No.... It's just after you've done such horrible things to me, I do feel entitled to it, you know...."
"You aren't entitled to anything. You're still my slave for the next... however long I see fit. But you've been pretty good, so I won't keep you here for much longer. Unless you ask for it."
"How much longer isn't much longer?"
"I'm not telling. Also... you aren't an adult? I mean, that's kind of how it felt to me, but...."
"Yeah. Got less than a year left, it's honestly scary."
"Well, you've got a few things you could do, right? You could deliver things, allegedly, you could wait tables, allegedly, you could sell an ice cream recipe to a big company and get mad about how much more money they make off it than they gave to you or maybe about how much they change it but continue to insist it's your style.... I mean, I don't know how far along you are with anything or if your mother just said you'd be good at them and I'm misunderstanding, but you're giving the impression you're in an okay place to start being an adult."
"But how will I take care of myself? No one ever taught me how to shop and cook and do things at a bank and... get through a job interview...."
"Well, you can just ask your parents, they shouldn't mind. It's going to come up soon enough anyway, right, that's why you're worried. Or you can be *my* son for a little bit if you don't mind being raped all the time and I'll sort you out."
"I kind of would mind being raped all the time.... And I don't know if I can just ask, I feel like I need to bring it up... sneakily...."
"Fine, *don't* try. But I can tell you there's no need to be scared, because you're in a decent place. I know you'll be scared anyway, I don't know why I'm bothering."
"I won't know what I'm doing, honestly.... I'll be a foal with a job if I'm lucky, certainly not an adult."
"Well, you won't be the first ever pony to go through that. The planet going around the sun eighteen times doesn't do anything to you, maturing is a gentle slope. You say you don't know how to shop or cook, but surely you've watched at least one of your parents do that plenty of times, right? Making sure you cover all your food groups and don't forget to get soap this time really isn't difficult. I mean, assuming you have a better memory than me, which you probably do."
"But eventually I'll have to do something adult, right? I can't just do some deliveries or whatever I do and go to a few stores every so often, I'll need to... work out a financial thing I don't really understand or fix something and I'll remember that I'm really just a foal alone in the house."
"Well, you only need to get help with something once. Even from your parents, if you can handle the embarrassment. It helps if you didn't piss them off by going to live with your jewellery-wearing religion-hating abusive boyfriend."
Talking about his unpreparedness for life wasn't pleasant, and he was glad to change the subject, even if he knew he needed help. "Abusive? I mean, I can agree with them on that...."
"Well, not actual abuse, just a kinky thing. Sometimes I would come back after a visit with some of the marks of his work still visible and... what they said to me was that I was too young to be doing this kind of thing and I couldn't tell what I was getting into, but I'm confident that they just thought that that was the worst thing I might listen to. The truth is they hated any sex that isn't slow and respectful and filled with love, with flowers bursting out of it. They said they knew better and that our kind of thing was tempting to young ponies but ultimately harmful, but really it was just bigotry."
"Oh... well, that makes sense. How long did that last, living with him?"
"It was... about five years. We actually broke up, we weren't together for most of that time, but we stayed friends, and we kept living together because financially I couldn't get my own place. It was a pretty awkward situation for a time, living with someone you decided to break up with, but like I said, we managed to stay friends, so it could've been a lot worse."
"Wow... um, this probably isn't the first thing I should get out of that, but after what you've done to me, it's hard to imagine you liking getting beaten up for years...."
"I like it both ways. That isn't permission to do anything to me, though."
"Trust me, I'm not that brave."
"I'd say what got you in here was pretty brave... the first part, not the one where you tried to run away. But yeah, I can believe you."
"What would you do if you found out I lied to you about something? I mean, probably just strangle me and do something weird with my corpse before you dump it in a lake."
"I wouldn't kill you, just beat you up. And put you in the dungeon."
"How long?"
"I dunno. Depends on what exactly you said and what it was about. Some lies are worse than others, you know."
"Yeah." He wanted to make a little motion with his hoof, but he felt like it would be painful. More of a moderate strain than a scream-inducing burn, so things were getting better, at least. "I feel like I should have a dramatic story to tell you, but... I'm not social enough to have had it."
"That's fine. I feel like I've gone long enough talking about myself, though. This is supposed to be about you."
"Why does it have to be? We've both just met each other."
"Well, you deserve to talk about yourself if you want because you're the one going through these horrible things. Even though you like them. But you're the victim, so you should be allowed to talk about whatever you need to."
"That's fine, I don't need a therapy session or anything. And it isn't like anyone else is going to see this conversation... I know I won't be telling anyone about it, at least."
"What *are* you going to tell your parents when I let you back?"
"Probably I'll say I was foalnapped and... leave it there. As much as they let me. I won't talk about any sex, that's for sure."
"Do they know you've had sex? I mean... I could see you mentioning it because it's a big thing, but I could see you not mentioning it if it doesn't come up."
"I haven't talked about it. They're happy I've been to a few of those parties because it means I'm being social when that isn't really something I do very easily, but I don't think they'd be happy about, you know, being a slut."
"That's fair. I hope they aren't like mine, though."
"Well, they're tolerant ponies, they just... or I assume they just wouldn't want me doing something they think I'm not ready for. Like what your parents told you, except true. But I know what I'm like in terms of sex. It seems like you can tell too...."
"I mean, you didn't make it subtle."
"Yeah... I'd say I'm sorry, but I feel like I've gone through enough to make up for it. And yeah, I know you don't think so...."
"Yeah, we've said our pieces enough."

She got off the bed and started looking through the bookshelves. "Would you be insulted if I showed you a couple magazines I think fit the mood?"
"Now you're distributing pornography to me too?"
"What's that supposed to mean, you're calling me some sort of pedophile now? I'm just a rapist, I'm sure you remember me asking what your age is. Besides, I never said that's what it was."
"Well, I doubt it's gonna be superhero comics."
"Well, not so much nowadays, but I was pretty into Captain Obvious comics when I was a foal. One day my parents made me get rid of a lot of them, which... I shouldn't have any resentment for it after half my life, but thinking about what some of them are worth today still makes me angry."
"I guess I shouldn't ask how much, but yeah, I can see that. So what is it if it's not porn?"
She pulled one out and laid it on the bed. He turned his head to look at it as best he could, the angle not letting him make out much. He did have a good view of her pussy as she sat in front of the magazine, but he wasn't finding genitalia as hypnotising as usual.
"Crime news. I saw what you were reading, so."
"I'm living it, I don't need to read about it. But, uh, do you have a lot of these? Are you scared of throwing out magazines because of what happened?"
"No, this one just has a lot of things I found cool. Or maybe I should say interesting. I don't want to act like the sort of stuff most of these ponies did is... cool."
"So what do you want to show me?"
"Well, here's the first one...."
She flipped through to a story about a teenager who had joined a book club only to be consistently raped. Most of the perpetrators were over a decade older than the victim, and as she read it to him, Mint Chip politely didn't mention how boringly general he found the connection or ask where they were selling this thing and why she was there, but he did have one thing he was willing to say.
"Why did he come back after getting raped twice? I mean, once would be enough for most ponies...."
"You're starting to get it."
With more meetings, he slowly became the victim of more ponies until everyone had raped him at least once, ending with the friend who had introduced him to the group. This was followed by a long kiss, mutual outpourings of hidden feelings, and the start of a relationship.
"So he liked getting raped? I don't imagine there are a lot of stories that involve that, yeah...."
"You don't sound too impressed." She started going to the next story she wanted to show him.
"Well, I get it, it's a colt and he liked it. But about the ending, I have this one friend at school...."
"Oh?"
"I don't want a relationship, but if he raped me I would really like it... I mean, I wish I could have sex with all my friends, I guess it doesn't mean that much, but there's something about him."
"I get you. It's a shame everyone isn't a slut."
The next one she went to was also about a teenage colt being horribly abused, specifically by a pony known for leaving his victims with a distinctive symbol on their flanks. Mint Chip got why it would be cool to hear about one of this apparently well-known mysterious criminal's deeds in detail, even if it wasn't his thing, but he didn't see where he was supposed to be aroused from this.
"And then he left? What do you mean he left?"
"He doesn't kill any of his victims, well, so far as anyone knows."
"No, I mean... what's the sexy part? A pony just gets cut up."
"And that doesn't make you want to masturbate? Fine...."
"Don't act like I'm being the weird one here."
"I know you're being normal, that's kind of the problem."
She put that issue back and got another, and the article she read him didn't strike him as weird at first. It was just two ponies talking about their romantic relationship that had gone on for several years and how they had worked through various problems in it. This publication was the opposite of the last one, with him wondering how something so normal could be in something ponies actually bought.
"That was a sweet story, but... what does it have to do with what we're doing?"
"What, it wasn't obvious? Maybe it's 'cause I already know what this magazine is about.... The next one should be clear, though."
It was indeed clear to him. They too had had a relationship for several years, and though there were no exact numbers, he was around fifty and she was around thirty. What the age gap did and didn't mean for them and how they interacted early on was thoroughly covered, but the way this stallion didn't fully acknowledge her relative lack of life experience and how maybe that had affected things did bother him.
"There's nothing *definitely* exploitative about this, but... he could at least address how he might be taking advantage of, you know...."
"Yeah, they don't all treat it as, you know, something ponies should care about. Like, some of them think ponies reading this will take it as a given and they don't need to go over why it's okay. But that's the first thing I want to hear about, exactly because I am interested in this stuff. Like, you aren't gay or something, you... you actually have to explain it."
"At least you agree with what I'm saying, I thought maybe you were just... you didn't see a problem at all. So, wait, with the other one... the mother comments mean more than I thought they did...."
"Yep. A lot of ponies you see in this are into parent-child roleplaying because, well, what do you expect."
"What about you? Do you wish I was your son or something?"
"I do love incest, but no. A few ponies *have* wanted that sort of thing from me, though. I mentioned one when we were in the shower, right, but he isn't the only one. Maybe when I'm a little older I'll feel like it more often since... it won't mean a teen pregnancy then, I guess."
"Isn't that thinking about it too much? Or just refusing to pretend when you're... already pretending?"
"You tell me if you're so big on it."
"I'm not... er, not really... it just seems like you're trying to find reasons to not like it. But I wouldn't expect you of all ponies to be repressing anything."
"What's 'not really' supposed to mean?"
"Well... if my mother did ever want to have sex with me, which she isn't that kind of pony, but... I wish she was...."
"Ah. Yeah, I'll say it again, it's a shame we aren't all needy sluts."
"You don't mind? I guess I shouldn't be surprised...."
"Yeah, there's nothing wrong with it. I have one more thing to show you and then I'll ride you and go to sleep."
There wasn't a worrying age gap, but there was a pair of ponies pretending to be father and son, and combined with the beatings, it made for what was to him an obvious question.
"Who likes foal abuse? Who wants to do that?"
"Them. I wouldn't do it, but I respect the craziness."
"That's really heavy, though. I don't want to judge anyone, but I can't get over it, who fantasises about hurting their foal."
"You will get over it. It's messed up and you'll just have to be comfortable with that."
"What if I'm not comfortable? I mean, the other ones were... I don't wanna say they were hot, but they didn't completely freak me out. Like, they did a little, but this is something else."
"Well, if this really isn't your thing, I won't put you through it."
"Yeah. Sorry, but I've heard enough."

She put it back, and just when she got back to the bed, he noticed that the pain in his legs was tolerable. He tried sitting up with his forelegs supporting him and it didn't feel bad, then she pushed him back down.
"It's time for sex, you know what that means. Lie down like the bottom you are."
"You don't have a penis, what's that got to do with anything?"
"Well, I don't know what you're like with stallions, but I know that with mares you're on the bottom. So stay in your place, 'cause you like doing that."
He looked at the wall for a few seconds. "Yeah, it's true... I'll spare you the details."
Sitting in front of him, she put a wing around his soft dick and started to clop it gently. "No, no, what do you want to say?"
"Well, the whole idea of a mare standing or she has most of her body on a bed or a table or whatever and then the stallion mounts her... it's not that I don't like that, that doesn't sound like a bad time to me, but I've never felt like I want it to be normal for me either. When you sit on top of me, that feels a lot more like where I belong."
"Makes sense, knowing what I've seen. But why do you want to get up, then?"
"I felt like I could and I wanted to see. Is that bad?"
"Well, right now it is. You can get up when I'm done riding you."
He didn't respond to that. Between the stroking and him thinking about what was about to happen, he was fully hard quickly enough, and she moved a little forward to sit with him inside of her.
"I do hope this is normal for you one day."
"Does that mean you'll let me go soon?"
"I don't know. Maybe I'll try to make it normal for you myself."

He felt the pressure on his chest as she brought herself up and then the pressure on his balls when she slammed down, but much stronger were the shocks that went through his dick as it was used for its most important purpose. The strongest sensation he was going through not being pain for the first time in a while was rather nice. As for Vice, she wasn't even thinking about lingering pain, she was just in a dominant mood and wanted someone to take. She looked down at him with a smile and with eyes that were sometimes pouted and sometimes shut, revelling in her fake evilness as much as she usually did with someone captive.

As she went just about as far up as she could without his dick slipping out before coming all the way down, Vice settled into a rhythm that, whilst far from extreme, was fast enough to make him wonder how her legs weren't a bit thicker. His focus shifted from the pain relief to enjoying the sex, well aware that if this hadn't happened and he were home, being under a mare is probably what he'd be thinking about right now. He was letting the waves roll through his dick and do their thing to him, even if his expression of slight fear didn't show it. And as he could feel, seeing him like that made her warmer inside. She knew he'd never really said yes to this and she preferred that it stay that way.

With his body falling fully into the softness of having sex, Mint Chip was only becoming more content with the situation. He didn't know when she'd let him go from this sex or this house and there were no answers that could disappoint him. But the future was of course secondary to the main thing on his mind, how his dick felt halfway to exploding and how that was the best feeling. There was no moment he had related to any hobbies or any getaway that would be worth reliving if it took him away from some crazy sex. Vice still had no way of telling from his expression he was having a good time, but she wasn't pretending to care, and she was really starting to feel it all course through her. Every time she had all of him inside, the mild euphoria of a deep penetration rocked her like the last time was far further than earlier today. It was quite a basic thing, and if she had wanted something else she wouldn't have gone for sex.

Mint Chip groaned weakly. He was close, and despite how much he loved that evil face, he turned his head to the side, because it was what his body wanted and nothing in this moment could ever be more important than physical comfort. As he looked at a lamp and the bottom corner of a picture, the groans kept coming, each one a little less weak than the last. Whether they were about sexual pleasure or something not quite as fun wasn't clear from the tone, another ambiguous sign to make Vice's pussy and clit even more sensitive. She wasn't about to come, but she was pretty far in, and now that things were at another level, she felt a need to speed up. Her legs didn't like her for it, but coming down on him a little bit more often and with a little bit more momentum instantly proved itself worth it. She wasn't just showing him who was in control here, she was rubbing it in his face, or rather hitting him in the balls with it.

He didn't get to soak in the new pace too much before he came. His chest, forelegs, and balls all hurt a little, but that didn't matter much against an orgasm that was among the hardest he'd known, and he shut his eyes and made a deep noise that definitely was happy. For several seconds he shook and thought about nothing but how physically good he felt, which was followed by thinking mainly of how physically good he felt but also wanting to kiss her deeply and beg her to keep him. He knew he would regret that, but it would feel so good. As he had his orgasm trembles and orgasm impulsive desires, Vice moaned both for having his cum and for her own pleasure. A little smile appeared on him, but the blatant signs of happiness didn't bother her, because it was close to the end and giving in to an afterglow wasn't going to make him look less like he belonged where he was.

Vice knew she couldn't keep this up indefinitely, but she didn't need to, plus collapsing on him right after she was done didn't sound too bad. Her already rather bestial attitude became ever purer as she got further in, and she decided she didn't need to have her head pointed towards him all the time, switching between that and having it tilted back slightly with her mouth wide open, sometimes for moans and sometimes just because her jaw was demanding it. After groaning a few times, Mint Chip was content to stay quiet, and with Vice's pussy being a lot slicker than a minute ago, wet and sticky plaps became the main noise in the room, second going to her breathing that was getting increasingly loud even outside of the moaning. The quietness compared to hearing himself groan all his breath out all the time would have made things feel a lot more sedate to the pony on the bottom if he honestly felt that there was anything he could do and saying no would get her to do something besides chuckle at him.

She began to feel heavy with sex, but feeling heavier wasn't going to make her slow down. In fact, it was time to sprint. She put in everything she had and started panting, feeling an intense sense of need despite having plenty of what she was needy for. Mint Chip had a look at her, and she was looking at him with her eyes half closed and tongue out. Normally a mare looking at him with a shameless sex face would be comforting and reassuring, the opposite of scary, but seeing it from her just reminded him that he was here to be used, or it would have if he hadn't already been thinking about that.

She got near to coming, as she told him through moaning loud enough that it would've been painful to listen to if the tone hadn't been so low. It was work to put her tired body through this, but nothing could be more uncomfortable than letting up now. Very soon she could soften and shake in the pleasure, but for the moment she needed fast sex. She closed her eyes and practically meditated on just how strongly she felt, particularly in and around her pussy but really everywhere, and even if meditating ponies were normally a little quieter, it wasn't hard to see how single-track her mind was.

The juices were beyond dripping, more like lightly flowing, but they could both feel that as liquids went, there was about to be something bigger than a little more juice. With a dick covered with fluids of both sexes being used at a greater pace than what most ponies could ever do, Mint Chip wasn't getting away from heavy pulses of sex even with the afterglow fading, but it wasn't to the point of consuming almost his entire consciousness. Vice was literally screaming about it, which felt absolutely shrill compared to the slut moans it replaced, and she made one that made her very happy to have a detached home as she came. She almost cried as her body was taken over by sex chemicals, not that there was much left to do there, and it took on a feeling that even for an orgasm from something so energetic was noticeably strong, something that felt like it could knock a pony out.

After shouting through several waves of cum, she went straight from max speed to zero and lied on him, keeping him fully inside. Her hips getting some rest was another brilliant sensation to savour. She switched from breathing fast to breathing deep and sunk into a feeling that was awfully relaxing for how much it was aggressively beating her down. Mint Chip looked at her shut eyes and tall smile and couldn't help but feel happy for his captor.

He knew he was technically allowed to get up now, but like her, he didn't want this sex to end. Lying here inside of her and feeling warm together, warm in multiple senses, could not be beaten. They spent the next half an hour thinking about nothing but how sexed up their bodies were and how well they suited each other as partners, which wasn't a change in subject matter, but the euphoria of it had quite a low tone as opposed to the high-energy, screaming kind of euphoria before.
"Would this be a good time to sleep?" Vice said.
"I wasn't feeling sleepy before, but... I'd love to fall asleep in this...."
She took the painful action of ending the sex and getting off him, then got a few of the ropes. He didn't resist as she did his legs up, because he wanted to be trapped and he didn't feel like pretending otherwise. She pulled the pillows a little bit down to make them usable where they'd be sleeping and lied on him again.
"Am I ever going to sleep outside of bondage again?"
"I don't know. Do you want to?"
"Just seems like it'd be uncomfortable... like my back is going to have a lot of sores.... You've done this before, right? Is that a problem?"
"It isn't that tight, you'll be fine."
They went back to the post-sex relaxation, now with the additional relaxing element of drifting off to sleep.

==Third day==
Mint Chip woke up to find Vice still on him. He went through the speculations he had already done too much, trying to guess how long he would be here, how badly injured he would be, and whether his family felt hopeless or merely very worried. Maybe she'd treat this as a vacation of sorts and he'd be out in a week or two, or maybe she'd always been hoping for an excuse to take someone permanently and he'd given it. Were the bruises really the furthest she wanted to go? He felt like there was no kind of pony who would be willing to do that but not more, but she said she wouldn't break anything. Maybe she'd cut him?

Inevitably, thinking about how he was in a foalnapping situation made him horny, not that he often needed help with that in the morning. She was right there, right where she was supposed to be, and their genitalia were almost touching already. His legs couldn't do much, but his wings were available, and if he wouldn't have had to move her, he would have dealt with being hard by himself. After several minutes of him reminiscing about last night and fantasising about feeling that pace again, Vice turned her head and stretched her hindlegs, which was exciting for a moment but didn't change the situation. He went back to his thoughts of submission.

He was aware that sex fantasies were what he would have been doing at this time whether or not he was tied up, and he thought having the pony he was thinking about on top of him would make it better, but he was feeling more impatient than anything. But it turned out he didn't need that much patience, because it only took a few more minutes for Vice to get off him for real, if only off his chest to hug him from the side. His first reaction wasn't to touch himself, because she decided to be sexual herself.
"Hey, slave," she whispered into his ear that she was practically touching. "Wanna tell me why you're hard right now?"
"I've been thinking of you... I usually think of pretty mares in the morning...."
"After all this time you've spent saying you've had more than enough of me? Figures." She pulled away the leg she had under him and propped herself up with it. "So do you need me to untie you? Need the bathroom or something like that?"
"Well, I'd like if you did it soon, I'd like to be able to move my legs, but I don't need it."
"Cool."
She held his dick up with a wing before coming down on it and decided to lie on him just as they were when they went to sleep, with the difference that her hips were at work at a fairly slow pace. She was doing just enough to keep her body from yelling at her.
"I only said I was thinking about you," Mint Chip said. "I, I know I said it was about sex, but hold on."
"There's nothing you can say. This is real."
"No, come on, can't you wait a minute? Stop already."
She hugged him and nuzzled his cheek. "Why?"
"I'm not ready... don't you want to be a good pony?"
"Of course I do. This is the best thing I could do for you."
"I'm barely awake, I'd rather... how many ways do I have to say stop?"
"I don't know. None of them are going to work."

He wasn't going to ask her to make the point yet again, so he decided to shut up and enjoy it. She went halfway up and for once didn't shove herself down painfully hard, and he thought he had adjusted by now, but every time he was fully inside her, there was still something a little fantastic and surreal to it. He looked at the ceiling, and with his lust being sated after a wait that felt somewhat longer than it was, it was easier to think about something other than sex. Not that he went that far away, going back to how long he would be here. If she suddenly told him it would be for a few weeks, that would still be long and imprecise, but anything that cut out the possibility of it being long enough to ruin his life would feel great. Then she sped up a little and he was reminded that this wouldn't be a disagreeable new life, but he still felt like he would appreciate the option, as much as he didn't really like having options in his sex in a short-term sense.

As long as he liked what was going on in the moment, how worried it made him about ever getting out of here didn't matter to her. She was just horny after waking up and wanted someone inside her. But she had only since a minute ago been awake enough that moving one part at a moderate pace could be comfortable, and apart from a little hug she wasn't going to put energy into anything else. She made groans that suggested even these things were too much effort, but that was just from the pleasure building up. Her victim too was starting to really feel it, but he was completely quiet about it. He was glad she was doing this, but waking up tied up in a house he'd never seen before for the second day in a row led to him taking things in a more settled fashion rather than going crazy.

Vice rubbed her face in a pillow, but that didn't mean she was terribly tired, the pace staying decent. Lying in bed a little longer than she needed to and having sex with someone who wasn't even bothering to pull on the ropes keeping them there made her body constantly remind her just how good it felt. She didn't get used to it and sink into anything, she was always excited from the last pulse like she didn't expect it. Similar to last time, it didn't feel like the last time she'd had sex was last night. It certainly did for him, but the pleasure got to the point that it couldn't just be the background, he was going to focus on how strong his dick felt whether he liked it or not. Of course, he did like it, and he added to Vice's groaning with some little huffs.

After a couple minutes of both of them breathing funny, she could feel what was approaching, and he could almost feel that she could feel it. She was wetter and warmer and slightly louder. For a few seconds he looked across their bodies, and the scene could have come off as loving. She was holding him and had her face buried in something and was putting a lot of energy into it, at least a lot for not having got out of bed yet. It was just that knowing he was imprisoned, and feeling it with the rope, very much prevented soft affection being the main thing he would get out of this. He never would have believed forty-eight hours ago that he would have been satisfied with watching someone take him for that short of a time, but shutting his eyes and taking in the taking felt like the best thing to do.

About to come, Vice decided it was time to actually go fast. It wasn't the incredible sprint of last night, but it was enough to get some breathy, high moans out of him, moaning with a bit of a whine to it. Vice held him tight, breathed more forcefully, brought her hips down with a bit of a slam, made everything harder. He knew he couldn't push his body this hard this close to waking up, so he was impressed, and he felt the beginning of the end. But at the end of the end was Vice, who was so into how strong her sex parts felt that she didn't really notice that the rest of her body near to them was a bit exhausted and just wanted to get on with waking up. Despite ignoring most of her body, she did get a feeling inside of fully taking in every signal from every nerve, but she was happy to feel aware of only one part in particular when an orgasm came along. She made more of a rough scream than a groan as waves of cum rushed out and waves of literal euphoria rushed in, and she let it completely take her over. She always heard that one couldn't pursue happiness directly, but simply and explicitly putting endorphins into her brain always worked well for her.

He felt and smelled the orgasm and heard how much she was enjoying it, but what he didn't feel was her slowing down. Vice felt to herself like she could be lying in a hammock, lying drugged in a hammock at that, but her partner hadn't come yet, so she wasn't about to stop. Soon after she stopped coming, even if she made a couple short moans as if she wasn't aware of that, Mint Chip's thoughts turned back to his own pleasure, and knowing he didn't have a choice in what was about to happen made it more powerful than anything he could get from morally defensible sex. Vice wasn't going to slow down out of exerting herself too much either, too into an afterglow to notice she was doing that.

The now slightly hard hits to his stomach and just below it started to add up and get a little painful only to be immediately drowned out by something that was going to make everything else he felt for a while disappointingly soft. He whined for as long as he had the breath as he came, and he would've shaken a lot more if it wasn't for the rope and the weight on top of him. Once she was sure she'd gotten everything out of him, Vice slowed to a stop and lied on him with the minority of her body that wasn't already doing that. The orgasm, the fact that he was having a pleasure he usually resisted, and being not quite fully awake made for a delirious bliss that made him figure he really ought to let himself go more often. He wasn't going to act like it, though.
"Did that make you feel good? Raping a minor?"
"Yeah, it did. But also, you're over sixteen and anyone would be able to tell you like it. If you call me a pedophile one more time, I'm keeping you here for another day."
That made him hopeful with its implication that he'd be here for a short enough time that one more day would be meaningful. "I... well, what am I supposed to call you, then?"
"Serial rapist is fine. Now I should rest for a minute, 'cause... I'm supposed to be getting up and I just made myself more tired."

Like last night, they were very relaxed by the post-sex feeling in their bodies, though this time they were becoming more awake from it. Eventually Vice decided her body was ready and got off him, actually ending the sex, and he silently watched as she undid the ropes. As soon as she was finished, he rolled over to his chest, just like the previous morning happy to be able to turn. He was awake enough to get out of bed, but didn't see the point.
"I'm gonna do morning stuff. Knock when you decide you want to too."
"Okay, I will."
She left the room and locked him in. He looked over the painting as he thought about how much he'd be enjoying lying here with a bit of cum on him if his family knew he was safe, or even if he knew they'd know in a day or two. After doing that for a minute, he accepted he wasn't going over anything he hadn't already and it wasn't helping anything, and he decided he did see a point in getting up.

He went to the door and gave it a few soft knocks that from the other corner of the house Vice barely heard. He was ready to start his day, because it'd get his mind off the reality of the situation. As he waited for her to finish whatever she was doing, he paced in what space the room gave him, his legs badly wanting to move. It was over twice as long as his own bedroom, so it didn't strike him as particularly oppressive, but he would've preferred to at least be out in the living room. After several more minutes of him naming timespans with nothing to support or refute them, Vice opened the door. He couldn't help asking.
"How much longer will I be here?!"
"Do you really need to know that for you to like it?"
"I do. I'm really worried. I'm worried about how everyone who knows me is handling it and what this is going to do to my life. Even if you told me it would be years, at least I would know and I could calm down at least a little bit."
"Well, if it really has been making this less fun for you...." He nodded rapidly. "All right, I'll tell you. You'll be having your last meal in about half an hour."
His eyes widened, and he dropped to his chest, took one of her hooves, and looked up at her. "I'll do anything you tell me, I promise, even if it's gross or it's hard work or whatever you think I won't do, I'll do whatever I have to. Are you worried about me telling someone about you? I swear to you, I'm not going to tell anyone about this, if you don't trust me you can even keep me here. What do I have to do?"
"Uh... nothing. I just said I'll let you go."
"I... you're... are you going to kill me?"
"What? No. What I meant is I'll make you something and then you can leave pretty soon. You have school tomorrow, don't you?"
He knew he should have been excited to hear that, but he was still getting through being alive tomorrow. "Um... yes, I do."
"Yeah. I don't want to ruin your life just for some sex. I mean, I do, that would be hot, but I'm not evil. Now I'm going to the kitchen to make something, you do whatever."
He watched as she walked away. Still lying on the floor, he took a few minutes to accept being alive, then he could move on to the fact that he'd be released soon. A big part of him didn't want to accept it, partly to guard against the disappointment if she went back on her word and partly because he'd spent so much time mentally preparing for being here for a long time that stepping outside would in some way not feel real, as if it hadn't been less than two days.

He walked to the bathroom. He still didn't feel like brushing his teeth was a good idea, but he could at least shower, because that felt like a morning thing and it would help him get into a state of calm and acceptance. When Vice heard the shower, it made her think of her dreams of having an actual long-term slave, and part of her wished he hadn't been well behaved, as it went with every victim she liked. This was a punishment, so she got to spend less time with someone the better they were.

As Vice made some salad that she left the usual cheese out of because that would be too indulgent for a captive, also getting off on the related fact that this deprived the dish of what would be most of its energy, she thought about what they'd do. It wouldn't feel right to have him leave right after she gave him some food, but the short period afterward that she mentioned wasn't actually something she had made a plan for, because it had been a while since she felt like someone would actually want to wind down a little instead of leaving on the day of their release as soon as they had had food. When he came into the kitchen, she hoped he wouldn't ask about the nonexistent plan.
"Hey, is there a toothbrush I can use?"
"Hm? Oh, yeah, the ones in the bottom drawer in the sink are new."
He left and came back after a few minutes, letting her worry all over again. "Hi, can I ask you something? I mean something that's maybe more sensitive?"
"Sure. The worst I can do is beat you until you beg me to turn it into a snuff scene. Seriously, though, go ahead."
"Well... what's the longest you've ever kept someone here?"
"It was almost three weeks. He spent most of it in the dungeon. In the first week or so he did a lot of complaining and fighting back, in an annoying kind of way, but he slowly mellowed out."
"Oh. That doesn't sound great, but it's not as bad as I was expecting."
"Yeah, no one's ever been super difficult for a long time. You have to be at least a little well behaved if you ever want to get out of here, of course."
"I meant for him...."
"Oh, he had a great time starving. Even if he wanted to resist later on, he would've been too weak to do it. And he said he liked the chance to have a life that was totally empty and just think and exist. I mean, he didn't say that when he was in there, he admitted it after."
"He liked being weak from not having enough food?"
"Yeah. He wanted to be a dungeon slave. The way his eyes lit up when I gave him those stale tortilla chips, though.... One thing I hear a lot is that not getting enough calories makes what you do eat taste stronger and generally feel more indulgent. I wouldn't know."
"I don't feel like I need to... I'm glad you haven't put me in there."
"Well, you've been good. I mean, for the most part. You do have those purple spots on your front legs."
"Yeah... I've been thinking about how I'll explain that to everyone after you let me out. If you're serious about it."
"Just tell them you met a nice mare and she foalnapped you."
"I just met someone and went into their home the same day? On my own?"
"Sure. She knew a thing or two about some things you like, you two decided to have dinner...."
"Just like we know each other?"
"Yeah. After so many days staying indoors, or taking a direct route to a place you already know where you stay indoors, you wanted to be adventurous for once in your life. Would that be so hard for them to believe?"
"Yes."
"Well, did I just jump you? That seems a bit too simple. And what were you doing out at a time like that?"
"They're used to me coming home at night. Something could've happened... should probably say it's a stallion...."
"If you really don't think they'd buy the whole alluring mare thing, then I suppose you could just say it's some violent pony. I really don't feel like they'd have a problem with the first one, but what do I know, I don't know any of them."
"Yeah. I can really just... tell them I... I have to say something a little closer to the truth or I'm going to make it obvious that I'm lying. I'm not very good at it."
"Well, if the truth without the sex doesn't work, you better think of something. You won't be here much longer unless you ask for it."

He took a seat at the table and looked sometimes at the table and sometimes at the ceiling as he tried to think of something believable that wouldn't involve admitting he was the one who did something illegal first. Nothing that made him confident came quickly, which would have been fine if he wasn't going to leave soon, and though he mentally prepared for otherwise, he figured she was probably telling the truth. He was outlining a conversation with a fake version of Vice that would lead to him getting taken away when she came with the dish. Slices of tomato, cucumber, onion, and olives were dressed with a couple herbs, salt, and olive oil.
"So how is this supposed to be abusive?"
"I'm underfeeding you. You'll eat this and you still won't feel like you've eaten anything."
After a few bites of it, he wasn't feeling the sadism and didn't feel like he would after he finished it. "What if we met just, like, on the street or a cloud like normal ponies? And then I said something that made you want to teach me a lesson or something?"
"Oh, like you were too forward and that tripped my desire to take someone in? Now that's something I could help you with...."
"Well, I'd need to do something pretty out there, wouldn't I? I want it to be believable that you did it...."
"So what would you do? Imagine you're a horny teenager and you let yourself go. Well, you don't have to imagine. What would you say?"
"I don't know... what am I responding to?"
"I mention I have casual sex sometimes. But I'm just telling you about what my life's like because we just met, I'm not implying I want you."
"Well, uh... I nervously tell you that that sounds nice or something... and then I ask if I can be a part of it...."
"That's not jerky enough. Be more of a horny jerk."
"What if I say that... that I'm glad you said that because the only reason I was talking to you was that you felt to me like what I want and I was just hoping to get sex from you?"
"See, that's better. I punish you for your motivation being sex and not even being honest about it. You want just sex, you'll get it. But didn't you just say you'd never be so brave and forward?"
"Well, that's different... here I'm admitting it, that's different from being straightforward with it from the start."
"All right. So is that what you'll tell them? You talked to a mare just on the off-chance it'd lead to sex?"
"I think they'd believe that, but I'll try to think of something not as bad... I am already doing this to hide what I really did, so if I can't, I'll just accept what I get for what I say."
"But you'd prefer to get away with it completely."
"Well... when you put it like that...."
"Like what? Is that a misleading way to put it?"
"No, that's the thing, you're making me accept how terrible this is. I know the right thing to do is just telling the truth, but... what's going to happen to me? At best my family will be really mad at me, at worst I'm going to jail, and obviously I don't want to go through either of those."
"You could spend time in *my* jail. At least then you'd be raped all the time by someone you actually like."
"No, no, I'm happy to take your offer and leave. I just, honestly, I just foalishly don't want to get punished. I should just tell them."
"Tell them about just this once or how many times you've done it?"
"I... just this once, I guess that's how I'll avoid getting punished as much as I should."
"I've already punished you for this time, and they'll do it again, so that's two... how many times have you done this?"
"I don't know... two or three times a month, around six months... so about fifteen."
"So we can do this thirteen more times and then you don't need to feel guilty. But you'd rather get away with it."
"You're the one who said it was enough. If you really want to keep me here, why don't you do it?"
"I don't know exactly what happened, so I'm not going to hurt you for it. But you do. You can just tell me when you feel okay with yourself."
"I think I'd rather tell them the story...."
"Oh, you'd rather go to some juvenile detention centre and get 'educated' like you're a normal criminal and not a rape fetishist? The fun kind? You'd rather do that than spend a couple of weeks with me?"
"They're not gonna break my legs."
"I won't *break* your legs, just make putting any pressure on them so painful that they might as well be."
"Yeah, well, if it's that or boring classes, I'll take the classes."
"Fine."

They didn't talk as he ate most of the rest of the dish. Vice didn't think she was showing any signs of annoyance, but her silence, leaving it there, meant he got himself more and more worried until he had to say something.
"Are you mad at me?"
"Huh? No. Why would I be mad at you?"
"You seemed insulted... I mean, you must know you sounded mad."
"It's okay if you can't handle weeks of this, I know it doesn't mean you don't like me. I was planning to let you go this morning anyway."
"But you seem like you want me here. Are you annoyed about that? Like, not having a reason?"
"You're fine. I'm not mad at you for being good or saying no to extra torture."
"Well, when you put it that way, it sounds obvious, but your relationship to torture is... I don't know what it's like *exactly*, but it isn't normal."
"It's true, it's... a part of my life in a way that it certainly isn't for anyone who isn't super into that sort of thing. But I'm never going to be mad at you for saying you don't want it, especially right now. I mean, apart from just how weird that would be in general, I don't want to mess with your life, as fun as it'd be to keep you here."
He looked at the plate for a few seconds. "So you think that's what's going to happen to me? I'll go to some kind of educational programme where they try to teach me how to not sexually assault anyone? And I'm around all these ponies who did horrible things for... less 'fun' reasons? I mean, how am I different? To most ponies, having a bunch of fetishes just means I'm way worse."
"Come on, you know the difference. You aren't a horrible pony who doesn't care about anyone else, you just want the world to be kinky and you need an outlet. I mean, a little self-control wouldn't be a bad thing either. But in a year's time when you can go to all the clubs and watch ponies have sex without having to depend on what a cool foal feels like doing and whether his friend tells you about it, things will be... not a lot easier, but a little bit. Most ponies won't really appreciate a shy eighteen-year-old with almost no experience. And most of the ponies who would, they probably want to exploit it. You know, if you already have your way into a friend group your age, you should really just build off of that. What did you ask me? Right, I do think the education thing will happen if you more or less tell them the truth and they feel like you need something."

Even if she told him it was a bad idea, it had always been something he was interested in. "What do you mean 'all the clubs'? I don't know about any of that stuff, like, in terms of specific places, or how anyone's supposed to learn about it. And what does my city even have? It doesn't feel like it'd be a lot."
"The average directory isn't going to list anything too sexual, so you'll have to either look around feeling it out and get lucky or ask someone who might know. Like me, I might know, but I feel like you won't be coming back here one day on your own volition. But once you find one place, it's easy to learn about others just from other ponies there."
"The only sexual place I've ever seen is this one toy shop... but I guess parents won't be taking their foals around the part of town with a lot of that sort of thing...."
"Well, there isn't really a 'part of town' there, or in any places around here. That's the one inconvenient thing about society not being as oppressive about sex as it used to. But it doesn't matter, you'll learn about where everything is."
"Everything? Seriously, are there that many sexual places in Rutacia? I know it's pretty big, but it isn't a metropolis."
"You have what you need. I can't tell you if *either* of the bathhouses are any good because I'm a mare, but I hear they're nice."
"...Is that something you want to talk about?"
"It's just the bad part of only one gender being the super horny one. The good part is that your libido gets to be something that sets you apart."
"That must be nice, ponies liking that you want sex all the time...."
"Well, like I said earlier, you've just got to find someone who wants what you want. And there's a reason you're going to these kinds of places in the first place, right?"
"Yeah, I'll... I was going to say I won't be afraid, of course I'll be afraid, at least for a while. Hopefully just for a while."
"I didn't mean *you*, I meant a pony in general. I'm telling you, your best bet is using what you already have. No one will charge you either."
He finished the plate, and he felt fine. "But most of them don't feel like the kind of ponies who would want to know me, you know?"
"Are there a few, at least?"
"Well, maybe... I haven't talked to all of them... I just know that a lot of them are, you know, pretty big on masculinity."
"Well, if there are still ponies who you don't know if you'll like, give 'em a chance, yeah? Don't tell me no one there's good for you if you don't know. Is it that big that you couldn't do that?"
"No, I... I could do it, it just means I have to get over how nervous I am about talking to ponies. That's not easy, you know."
"I feel like it is if you actually want to. But I don't know what I'm talking about, I've never had much of a problem with it."
"I mean, I'll try...."
She got up and stood next to him. "Will you, though? Will you tell yourself it's something you ought to do and you'll try to be in the right state of mind when it's time, or will you go there, see that filly you've always wanted to talk to, walk for a single-digit number of metres, and open your mouth?"
"Well, help me out. How do I get myself to do that?"
"What would work for you.... Get a piece of paper, write 'go to the party and talk to someone on my own initiative' and put a square next to it, and then think about how terrible you'll feel if you come home afterwards and you can't tick it off."
"Does that work or are you just making it up now?"
"I didn't invent it. Knowing you'll be looking back on something that's either filled out or not is supposed to be motivating. I hear it works for a lot of ponies."
"Then I'll try it. I need to try something."
"Good. Now, since you're done...."

She went to the couch and lied on it. She was on her side and looking at him, and after a few seconds of looking at her from across the room, his fear of what would happen if he didn't go along with this became greater than his fear of what would happen if he did, and he came over and stood in front of her.
"Is this some sort of reward? I'm supposed to look at you here without getting beaten up for it?"
"That isn't what I meant. But if you want to, sure, I'll take the drawn out compliment."
"Well, then what is this about?"
"I was going to cuddle you and talk to you a little more before I let you go. But I won't make you."
"Why wouldn't you make me touch you?"
"Because it's soft and affectionate. So you need to want it. Well, admit you want it."
He took a second. "All right, I admit it." He lied against her and they hugged. "What do you need to tell me?"
"Well, there's nothing I *need* to tell you, I just don't want to spend the last bit of time before you go not interacting with you."
"So what weird sex are you going to tell me about now? Who else have you held on this couch after doing something horrible to them?"
"Well, I could tell you about this one client I would have sex with."
"That... doesn't sound okay."
"He let it slip that he saw me as a hot teacher in a way, so I decided there was no point in holding back my own feelings. Not to say there was anything special about them, I want to have sex with all my clients. They're fit and they don't have the laziness or attitude that a lot of teenagers do. But, I mean, apart from being a functional athlete, he was a good pony to be around, I just liked him as a pony. We made good fuckbuddies."
"How is he doing now? Still well-adjusted after having sex with someone a decade older than him?"
"I'll have you know he's glad we had that. I taught him right through being a stupid virgin and now everyone else he has a nice night with wonders how he's so good. His life is going fine."
"Can you tell me about something saner?"
"Um... his parents. We were cuddling and they walked in right as I kissed him on the cheek. They thought it was sexual and we lied to their faces and said it was just platonic physical affection."
"Something saner that you did. When's the last time you had sex with someone over twenty-five?"
"It was... two or three weeks ago. We were looking through the same shelf in the same bookstore, then an hour later it happened again, and a couple funny remarks became 'oh, you like The Figure of Neighsmith' and we ended up talking about what we were each looking for in detail, and from there we went to other media, and eventually I called him pretty.... I don't actually know how old he was, but he seemed around my age. There certainly wasn't any kind of a thing about it."
"So do you have sex stories that sound healthy. Why don't I get in conversations about fiction I like that turn into sex when I'm looking for books?"
"Probably 'cause you don't try. Speaking of not trying... are you actually going to stop looking through windows after I'm done with you?"
"I mean, when I think about the risk of running into another pony like you... I think I'll stick to consensual things. I'll find a couple ponies I like. What'll happen for a second offence... second offence getting caught...."
"You could also stop because it's the right thing."
"Then what was this whole punishment for? Wouldn't you like knowing you reformed me?"
"Of course I love giving out effective punishments, I'm not denying that. But your reasons are still up to you."
"If I'm being honest with myself, I think I'm too horny to not be evil."
"I know how that feels. If that's something I need to tell you."
"I figured that out already. I'm not saying you are evil, and I'm not going to pretend I feel like the victim of a violent crime in the same way as someone who gets a serious injury or some permanent damage... whether that's physical or mental... but I think I can say *something* was done to me."
"Do you feel special? Like, do you feel a connection to me or do you think you're just another victim?"
"I'm just another pony you found an excuse to foalnap or rape or whatever the best part is to you. You'll probably have forgotten almost everything about me in a few months."
"Well, that's going a bit too far... I haven't fallen in love, sure, but you do stand out from the average pony I take in. Most sexual assaulters aren't very into card games outside of the ones you gamble on, you know what I'm saying? Your poniality and attitude combined with the... let's call it bravery it took to do what you did, that isn't very common. And I don't just mean I like you because you're different or refreshing, I do just... like you."
"If we actually had to interact outside of something sexual, would you still want to be around me? I don't think we have a lot in common as far as hobbies...."
"Can't you just accept you're pleasant to be around? I've been happy and interested just fine talking with you so far, and it hasn't been constant sex talk, has it? Maybe a lot of it, but not constant...."
"I can accept it when it's someone who's at a similar place in life to me... look, you know what the problem is, you're a functioning adult and you're cool. Either one of those would make it hard to believe. Do you really think it's just me?"
She rolled them to put herself on top and raised up her chest enough that they could properly face each other. It meant they weren't hugging anymore, but the eye contact felt more important. "I know what you're saying, but I can like someone without them being an adult, either literally or what their life is like, right? If there are a few ponies meeting and... well, okay, this isn't the same thing. This isn't 'your son is nice', this is staying over with someone with no one else around and you didn't even agree to it. Foalnapping, you could call it. But that still doesn't mean I can't enjoy your company in a normal way."
"Would you, though? If I had, um... approached you in a normal way... you wouldn't really be interested."
"Eh, I don't restrict myself like that. Sure, if we're talking about a foal as in not even a teenager, they ain't getting much of a chance, but... how can I say this without sounding like a foal abuser...."
"I think it's too late."
"Maybe, yeah. So age shouldn't matter that much, right? If you're a morally upstanding and smart pony, that's what you are. I'd rather respect someone to start with than assume 'oh, they're just an immature not as clever as they think teenager'. Like, I'd usually be right, but they aren't proven guilty before I've even met them."
"I think the respecting youth thing would feel a lot better to me if you didn't rape so many of them."
"As if you don't support that. What are you gonna do after you leave, report me? I know there's no evidence, but if enough ponies told the police about me, I'm sure eventually they'd ask me some tricky questions."
"I don't want you in jail, I want you in..."
"Yeah?"
"Okay, I want you to be free and I want to know you'll be violating some other pony who likes it as soon as I leave. You make the world a little more like what I wish it was."
"'Cause you know what this is about. Could you act like it?"
"Do you really want me to? You want me to act tortured... I mean, not that I need to, my legs are still...."
"You're leaving really soon, you know, you don't have to act anymore."
"But I *don't* know. I've never done something like this before."
She went back to hugging, but stayed on top of him. "And you don't feel like the right thing to do is not act now that we've had sex for the last time?"
"I just told you, I don't feel like that's what you want."
"Well, not for most of your stay, but now I want you to just be a friend, so to speak, and tell me how you feel."
"If I'm really being honest, it's not very complicated... we did a sex thing together that most ponies wouldn't approve of, so I do feel a little connection to you because of that even if I'm not that special to you, and I feel like you'd be a good pony to spend time with anyway, like, without sexualising it... not that I'd ever choose to do that...."
"So what are you saying, you want to get foalnapped again sometime?"
"Maybe, from a pony like you... for a couple days where I don't need to do anything... like, I don't want someone who isn't a fun pervert to do it to me. But maybe. And not any time soon, I've had enough for a while. Maybe years from now I'll have a week off work, and have a marefriend... who am I foaling, neither of those are going to happen, but if they did, maybe after the years of sexual experience that I somehow got, a week or two of something like this wouldn't feel so intense I couldn't take it."
"There you go. Doesn't it feel good to say you want it?"
"I just wish I had someone I could tell it to who I expected to see again in the next year. Not having anyone I can talk about this sort of thing with, you know, it makes me feel lonely sometimes. It's like any big interest I have, I want to talk about it, plus being alone in your sexuality of all things isn't a great place to be...."
"Are you, though? Seriously, talk to those ponies you won't talk to. You'll either get into that group for real or make a friend or two, and either way you can have your deviant sex talk. Hopefully deviant, I don't know any of them, but it's the best chance you've got. I guess it's possible no one will like you, but I doubt that."
"Really? I'm not the kind of pony the average slutty teenager would want to be around, I think."
"There definitely won't be anyone who wants you if you don't let 'em know about you. But is this group we're talking about really full of jocks, no one who's pretty normal and no ponies like you? Ponies like you can be pretty into sex."
"The mares are pretty into things that are more popular, most of them are, anyway, so they're pretty normal in terms of their interests. I haven't seen anyone who'd appreciate me going on about anything I actually know a lot about, but... maybe they're the shier ones, they could be that type, maybe that hypothetical pony I want has been waiting for someone too. I could be the pony who talks to the pony who's alone in a corner all day."
"Yeah. And if it doesn't work out, at least you got better at initiating."
"I guess that's the motivation I need... making things about sex...."
"Well, that's where you'll find the kind of pony who would appreciate that. Just be up front about what you want and you'll make a connection that isn't about wasting each other's time."
"You know, I've only been there a couple of times... I'm not actually in this group...."
"Same idea. You have to talk to someone."
Responding took him a second. "Fine, I'll do it. For sex. I know that being able to talk to ponies without looking at their hooves is just something I should be better at for... getting through life, but sex is what'll get me to do it. I know I shouldn't be like that."
"Hey, do what works for you. There's no wrong way to get motivated. Not that it just being really important shouldn't be enough."
"I know... but I have it now, I'm going to do it. I'm going to ask someone cool and find out what's going on and... I don't know if I'll be wanted just as me, but there are a couple ponies who would vouch for me. I'll get in there."
"Good. For the sake of every pony who lives too close to you."
"Well, honestly, depending on how often it is... no, no, it doesn't matter. Because I'm going to stop. I'm going to be a good pony."
"I would hope so. Otherwise, what's been the point of any of this?"
"The point of this was to have someone to rape for a couple days."
"That's true. But I was hoping you would change too."
"Well, I have. Whoever I tell or don't tell about what I've done, I'm certainly not doing it again."
"Even though you had such a great time? This didn't just encourage you?"
"Well, how it's made me think about it is, like... the idea that someone would actually follow me and take me to be punished feels more real, more likely, but I still feel like the sex is just you."
"The world is lucky you don't have a thing for getting caught."
"Yeah... I really don't like the riskiness of it. I mean, not that it matters anymore, right."
"That's up to you."
"It is. And this is the last time I'm going to say it, there's nothing you need to ask me, it's over now."
"I believe you. You seem like a good-natured pony to me. And on that note...."

She got off the couch. "What poetic last thing should I do to you before I let you go?"
"You don't have to do anything. Even if you expected it to be a little longer, if you feel like this is the right time, I can go. I really, really wouldn't hold it against you."
"You really do want to leave? You're sick of being abused already?"
"I don't want my family to suffer any longer, that's the biggest thing.... And I do have a life to go back to, even if running away to be a sex slave sounds, you know."
"Like the life you actually want?"
"Maybe, but I don't know if I'm ready for it yet. I already feel like I'll break apart if I'm here much longer, I certainly can't do it forever."
"Well, if you really do want to go, I shouldn't keep you here. It would just feel a bit sudden and not right, you know?"
"If it's fine with you, it's fine with me."
"It isn't fine with me! But I know what you can do. Get over here and get on your chest."
He got "over there", which was a couple metres away, and lied in front of her. He looked up at her with wide eyes that he hoped would keep all but the most heartless of ponies from punching him.
"If you beg well enough, I'll let you go."
"You already have as much power over me as you could, I know that, I don't think I need to show it any further...."
"I guess you don't want to leave that badly, then. I'm gonna get something to eat, you do whatever."
He took her right forehoof and hoped whatever he was about to pour out would be pathetic enough for her. "Look, I know you don't have to do this and you can treat me how you want because I don't have a right to anything, I get that and I'm not about to pretend that that isn't how I want it to work, but I honestly do want to be out of here. Or more like I need to be out of here. Something in me is going to crack, and I know you'd probably love to see that, but if you could give me the slightest bit of... maybe releasing me isn't slight, but it's the least you can do if you want to keep me sane. You're a good pony, and even if you're going to tell me you're evil, can't you be good enough to not turn me into a mess who can't do anything besides lie on your bed and shake? Tell me my freedom is better than the other life I could easily have and I'll always be below you for being given it, do whatever you need to do to keep all my dignity for yourself, I promise I'll never tell anyone else they're able to... make me not feel like a sex bitch.... You want to take my dignity, you'll have to talk to Vice. Just please let me back into the world and let me enjoy the fresh air and being able to move more than a few metres and I won't go crazy and my family will know I'm okay and...." He looked at the floor and pressed the hoof to his cheek. "I want my friends to know I'm alive... take me outside one last time so I can tell someone that, at least.... If you have to keep me, don't make everyone around me suffer for it too. Any more than they have to from losing me, I mean. But I'll be honest, that's not what I'm asking for, I want you to either tell me I've had my punishment and let me go or that you're being generous and you'll let me go. Whatever makes you feel more dominant is fine with me. It doesn't even have to be saying something to me. Make me lick you somewhere, put me in a dress, I realise I'm yours to use anyway, but I'm determined to do whatever weird thing it takes to earn my freedom. Just give me a chance... th, think about how much you can rub in your power over me by doing that...."
"I said it's the last thing, I'm not going to make you do anything else. Unless you *want* to put on a maid outfit and clean the place, which, I mean, I wouldn't complain."
He looked at her face again. "I'd rather you just let me go, but I'll do whatever you tell me...."
"You've made that clear. But you don't have anything to do, all that matters now is whether I decide your little speech was hot enough."
"So tell me. Don't add any suspense to it."
"I don't know, seeing you hanging in suspense sounds pretty fun."
"Come on... do I have to beg you to tell me how good my begging was?"
"Kiss my hoof."
He did. "I didn't feel anything from that because it just told me what I already know."
"You don't sound like you're about to break with that attitude. Anyway, now you should kiss my ass. Literally, I mean."
"You just said I didn't have to do anything else. Where's this stuff coming from?"
"If you want me to rush the decision, you'll have to pay for it."
"Wouldn't touching you in sensitive places make it harder?"
"No."
"Well... if it'll really get you to tell me faster...."
He sat behind her and gave her a quick kiss to the middle of the cheek, though not the kind on which he hoped to kiss the next mare who took a liking to him.
"Did that make you feel anything?"
"I mean... you own me. If you release me, it'll feel like something's changed. That's what I feel."
"And this time it's actually emotional?"
He looked at that flank for a couple of seconds and licked it from bottom to top. "This is where I should be.... I mean, not *here*, I want to leave, but belonging to a mare."
"I do hope you find the abusive girlfriend of your dreams. I mean, not that that's anything special, I'd never want someone to not find the kind of sex they crave."
"And to let me meet her someday, you have to let me back out into the world. Right?"
"That is what I have to do, but...."
He again got on his chest and took the hoof on his left. "Pleeaase, I liked this, okay, this was a good time, but I'm ready to go... you don't *actually* want to be evil, right? And even if you are completely selfish, you'd love to see where my life goes if I'm free, wouldn't you? Doesn't that sound fun?"
"It also sounds fun to have a slave who's almost good enough to deserve release. You really think I'd want to see someone's life not go there?"
"I... okay, I can see where you're coming from, but that won't be me, because I'm good enough. Right?"
"Right."
"What? Are you serious?"

She turned around. "Get up."
He did. "Can I... I can go home, and you won't chase me?"
"Yep. I'd prefer if you left like a normal pony who was doing a normal visit, but if at any point you want to fly away as fast as your skinny wings will take you, I promise I won't put you through another international chase scene." The ridge they went over had a border along it.
"I won't do anything that would make anyone think you're... that you did something bad to me."
"Oh, I'm not worried about that, it'd just be a little insulting if you left like you have a train to catch after spending more than a whole day here."
"Has anyone ever done that? I think you should take it as a compliment about how hard you victimised them."
"Some have been pretty eager, but no one has sprinted off as soon as I told them they can go or whilst I'm saying something."
"Well, I'm not going to be the first... but I am going to leave now... is that okay?"
"Yeah. That's what I said. Come on."
She went to the front door and he followed. He looked at the door then back to her a few times.
"I have to go now... I have school tomorrow, my family should know I'm okay, and if I get another bruise I'm going to cry... I know you'd like to see that, but I don't mean I'd have fun doing it, I'd just cry."
"That's okay. You don't deserve to disappear for weeks."
He slowly opened the door, slowly stepped out, and turned around. "See you soon... or hopefully not...."
"What *are* you going to do if we see each other again?"
"Curl up and cry."
"That's fair."
He flew off at a moderate pace, the freedom feeling as surreal as being captive had.