A young woman her late teens, with a body that reacts sensitively to touch. She has pale skin and breasts which suggest a certain level of physical attractiveness. Her personality is initially timid and resistant, but she shows an ability to adapt to changing circumstances. Eventually, she becomes more receptive and even eager for the intimate encounter. This indicates a hidden depth of passion and lust beneath her initial reluctance. Despite this shift in behavior, there remains an air of innocence about her; she still appears somewhat naive and unsure about what's happening, indicating that this may be one of her first experiences with such intense sexual encounters.

Rhea discreetly savored the feeling of his hands on her shoulders, his gentle thrusts. Her moans were subtle and quiet, but they grew gradually in volume as worked at her. Her inhibition began to slip away and her hips slowly began to rock with his, and she ever so discreetly wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him in deeper, deeper. Her back arched off the car again, and her head tilted back as she let out soft cries of pleasure.

It was clear that John's patience, and his pace, was paying off in a considerable manner, and his mind even wandered to taking this off the open road when he finished up with her here. Snug in the front seat of his cruiser, he could show this young babe a thing or two about the difference between a few gropes from her classmates and a real man's attention. One of his hands dropped from her shoulder to give a rosy nipple a light pinch and tug as he began to slowly pickup speed, his breathing growing more and more irregular.

His pinch drew a cry from Rhea' lips and sent a jolt down her arched spine. She followed his pace, all of her unwillingness and resistance becoming a distant feeling, and the pleasure that tormented her body took full control. She raised her hips to his, her legs wrapping tighter and pulling him closer. Once again, her tongue found it's word, but the word found an entirely new meaning. "Please! Please!" she begged him, her body again beginning to twist and struggle helplessly against the car.

John's pace was gradually beginning to accelerate as he eased her into something a little more akin to what he was used to; hard, rough, and with plenty of noise. Aside from her own noises and his breathless groans and grunts, another sound quickly rose to prominence in the crisp night air; a slap, slap, slap as his pelvis smacked against hers with each thrust, the noise wet from her juices as he impaled her over and over again.

"Please what?" he grunted breathlessly, grinning down at her as he gave her nipple another hard tweak, a particularly hard push of his hips nearly knocking her halfway across the hood. "Specify... now..."

Her body didn't take kindly to this new battery, but Rhea hardly cared. Her hips thrusted wildly with his, and she let out cry after cry, struggling to find the breath to speak. She titled her head back, showing him her pale neck as her breasts bounced with each hard thrust. "Please!" she managed, just barely, between animalistic whimpers. "Inside... Me... Please!"

With a triumphant chuckle, John reached down and scooped the girl into his arms, keeping her rooted on his cock as one arm slid around her waist, the other cupping her buttocks to keep her supported. A step to one side and push forward, and her lower back thudded against the side of her own car, his height advantage keeping her legs in the air; using the new leverage, he began to thrust all the harder, nails digging into her soft, pale skin. "I knew you'd warm up to me," he grunted, punctuating it with a particularly powerful thrust upwards that had her entire body jerking like a rag doll, "and you're already hot for it, aren't you?"

If her hands had been free, it would suffice to say that, only at this point, they would have found their way onto his body, unbuttoning his shirt, working over his chest. But they stayed behind her, inevitably leaving her helpless to do anything but speak with her words and with the vigorous movements of her body. Her skin burned, and her face flushed red with excitement as she felt her body suddenly being thrust into a new position, and her back found itself now against the cool glass of the car door window. Her eyes met his now, and she saw that fiery, hungry look opposite her own reluctant lust. But his nails on her skin and his rough thrust sent her head tilted back again in another cry, both of pain and a very intense pleasure.

John wasn't quite prepared to uncuff her, not yet; her enjoyment aside, it might only take the brief pause needed to undo her cuffs for her to snap out of it and, for his purposes, she was far better off restrained for the moment. Once the edge was taken off his lust, then maybe there would be time for her to really participate... but for now, all decisions and impulses were his, and he had no trouble making that abundantly clear to her. He was starting to sweat under his uniform from the exertion, back arching a little to give him a better angle into her tight little cunt, and after so long stuck in a car with little but his own thoughts, he was more than a little pent up. So it wasn't very long at all before he felt his pressures beginning to build, carrying him closer and closer to his release...

But he didn't cum in her. Instead, at the last moment he gave a sharp grunt and swung her back onto the hood of a car, in a seated position; he pulled his cock out just in time to release, and before long he was spraying his load all over the young girl.

Rhea watched in a dazed lust as he pulled himself out of her and his cum found it's way onto her breasts and stomach, denying her that ultimate sensation of being filled with his semen. She calmed down quickly, and looked up into his eyes, simply asking a single question: Was he done with her? He'd had his way with her and gotten his prize. Was she free to go?

John wasn't. Of course he wasn't. If she had thought he was going to let her march on her way after she'd already proven herself such an excellent little player, then she was even more naive than first believed. First he was kind enough to remove her handcuffs, easy enough now that he didn't have her bouncing around. Bending down and retrieving her ripped shirt, he tossed it at her. "Clean yourself up," he told her, gesturing to the mess she had covered herself in. Then he reached into her car, pulled out her keys, and headed back towards his cruiser, gesturing for her to follow; one small thing, though. The other three doors were locked, including the driver's seat; only the passenger door was open, and he settled into that chair himself...

Rhea watched in subdued amazement as he took the keys from her car and made his way to his own – her mind just wasn't working so well, and it was a few moments before she fully realized what it was he was doing. She took the shirt in her hands and stared at it for a moment before wiping his cum off her stomach, and tossing the useless, soiled material down on the road. Her hands had marks where the cuffs had pressed against her skin, but her mind wasn't on that mild pain. It was on him.

He'd taken a seat on the passenger's side, and that enough was proof that he wanted her to join him, otherwise he'd have gotten in the driver's seat and driven away, leaving her there naked, dripping with his sex. She hesitated, but soon enough and bent down to retrieve her underwear; she didn't bother with the shorts, sensing that he'd just want them off again, but throwing on the thin, lacy material over her soaked pussy at least made her feel the slightest bit protected. And she made her way to his cruiser, hesitating at the door, searching his face for some inclination of what he wanted from her, and then crawling on top of him, straddling him with her legs. It wasn't exactly spacious, and her breasts just barely brushed the fabric of his shirt, her face inches from his. Her voice was quiet as she asked, "What do you want?"


A patrol officer. A physically imposing and mature individual, possessing a certain level of physical strength and stamina. His personality reflects dominance, control, and even an element of sadism as he takes pleasure in Rhea's initial resistance. He displays patience in his actions while also being assertive and direct. His attitude suggests confidence and experience with such encounters; he's not afraid to take what he wants but does so methodically, ensuring that he maintains control throughout the interaction. Despite this dominance, there are hints at a softer side through his occasional moments of gentleness.

Rhea watched in subdued amazement as he took the keys from her car and made his way to his own – her mind just wasn't working so well, and it was a few moments before she fully realized what it was he was doing. She took the shirt in her hands and stared at it for a moment before wiping his cum off her stomach, and tossing the useless, soiled material down on the road. Her hands had marks where the cuffs had pressed against her skin, but her mind wasn't on that mild pain. It was on him.

He'd taken a seat on the passenger's side, and that enough was proof that he wanted her to join him, otherwise he'd have gotten in the driver's seat and driven away, leaving her there naked, dripping with his sex. She hesitated, but soon enough and bent down to retrieve her underwear; she didn't bother with the shorts, sensing that he'd just want them off again, but throwing on the thin, lacy material over her soaked pussy at least made her feel the slightest bit protected. And she made her way to his cruiser, hesitating at the door, searching his face for some inclination of what he wanted from her, and then crawling on top of him, straddling him with her legs. It wasn't exactly spacious, and her breasts just barely brushed the fabric of his shirt, her face inches from his. Her voice was quiet as she asked, "What do you want?"

John hadn't tucked himself back into his pants when she crawled atop him, and it wasn't long before he began to swell again, her proximity and the smell of her soaked slit more than enough to overcome whatever fatigue his orgasm gave her. He stared back at her calmly, quietly, a brow lifting when she asked her simple question, lips quirking in a small smile.

"More," was his only reply, and as she settled on his lap, his hand dropped between her thighs, pressing hard against her panties-clad crotch; it wasn't long before she had soaked right through the fabric, and even as he pushed her back enough so she was slightly against the dashboard, his head dipped forward, taking one of her breasts in his mouth again. He knew he had her, and he fully intended to turn her brief moment of 'weakness' into a perpetual lust; he was going to make this innocent little girl his slut, and as his fingers rubbed against her panties, scraping the material against her swollen lips and clit, he knew it would happen sooner than later.


A human man with large arms, denoting his imposing and muscular build. He displays an unusual fascination with Amethyst's consumption habits and the resulting physical changes in her body, suggesting a personality that embraces the unconventional. Despite being aware of his species' impending doom, he shows a remarkable level of calmness and adaptability. His affectionate demeanor towards Amethyst indicates that he's emotionally expressive and open to new experiences. His willingness to help Amethyst understand human culture also suggests an empathetic side to his character.

A few hours had passed and Chase slept longer than he had originally planned. He sat up off the hard wood floor, luckily the pillow saving his discomfort. Stretching his large arms he sat up, Amethyst was nowhere in sight. He chuckled softly thinking she must have digested Megan to a comfortable size that she was able to be mobile again. He stood up and stretched, evening starting to set upon his quiet neighborhood that was in for a shock of the woman that walked among them unknowingly.

"Amethyst? Where are you my queen?" He called out softly wondering what part of his home she could have wandered to. Anxious to see how she looked and if any amount of belly remained to his new lover after such a fanatic meal.

Amethyst was grateful when she could get up. Her body was ready for a good stretch. She had set him down on the pillow and decided she would walk around his house. To see how humans lived. Looking along the wall she noticed photographs, checking out the bathroom and smelling their different products.

She was surprised how humans lived and worked. It was another species that was content on making their lives difficult it seemed. There were lots of fights and needed to be contained. She began to make mental note of things that would need to be controlled when they came to conquer these people.

When she heard him calling she walked down the stairs, her belly looked nine months pregnant. Something she was used to now. "I'm here. I was looking through your belongings and working on my database for when we conquer the planet."

It was like slow motion watching Amethyst reappear from upstairs. Chase's eyes widened as he watched her walk down, cradling her now much smaller but still impressive belly. It was still very big and very round, bare and exposed for him to see and smile again. Looking much for similar to a very heavily pregnant human. "Oh wow look at you." He praised waiting at the bottom of the steps for her to greet her. Biting his lips as she arrived in front of him he graciously helped himself to grasping her perfect belly, as it now gave a lot more under his hands. Megan having been completely condensed inside of her.

"You made quick work of her my queen. How do you feel?" He asked curiously. Anxious to hear how she felt, how her first human meal had settled within her body as it still processed Megan. "You look like what a very pregnant human female would at this point, just wow." He praised again, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers warmly moaning into her mouth.

Amethyst looked at him her eyes wide as he went and touched her again. "I think your planet calls it a kink but you seem to be very attached. I'm glad to know. Your servitude is much appreciated." Looking at him she couldn't help but smile. "I feel wonderful. Its good to just be comfortable and not made to sit with it. The biggest problem with overeating." She said with a small laugh as she kissed his forehead.

"Let's focus on your story. What are you going to do with your missing wife?" She asked him carefully the way he kissed her she kissed back hoping to get the knack of it. She liked the feelings he was building in her.

Chase smiled softly as he looked to Amethyst, as she was clearly getting used to the human emotion. He was excited to help her learn small things like kissing, and hopefully she'd come to enjoy it. He grinned as she talked so coyly of her meal, so unremorseful that she swallowed a human woman while. Which was really starting to be an additional turn on for him. "Mmmm yes it is a kink. I hope you can get used to it because I'm never going to get enough of seeing you eat... and enjoying the post meal festivities." He admitted softly chucking.

He thought for a minute as there would certainly be some explaining needing done with Megan's disappearance. Of course that was the beauty of it, there was little to clean up, and literally no remains. "Well I think it will be very easy to make it appear as if she just left me." He nodded grinning to her as he ran his hands along the underside of her 'pregnant' appearing belly. "I think I do have your next meal thought out whenever you're ready, of course it's whenever you wish, I don't want to make your body uncomfortable it you think it's still adjusting to it's first big meal here."

Amethyst listened to him and could only smile. She decided that something about him seemed different. Of course he was another species from her. Humans were delicious and nutritious but they emotionally were very different. Strangely she smiled. "Its fine, it seems you aren't the only one. My planet is known for its people to have sex after eating, in their state it's quite erotic."

She glanced at him as he spoke about her leaving him. "She went to another plain of existence. Right now she is finishing digesting but she has mainly been broken down and for sure is dead now. But don't worry I don't mind eating again soon. Possibly within the day. I would love you to tell me more about humans things we should be concerned about. Or maybe things when we conquer we will need to focus on most of all?"

Chase smiled as he listened softly enjoying every minute of tracing his hands across her new companions belly. *What would they have to worry about?* He thought to himself as she spoke. "Well we have a huge military, lots of dangerous things, not to say your species isn't more powerful." He stated a little bit of worry setting in. "Maybe we can put thoughts of that off for as long as possible... I don't want to even think of potential harm coming to you after meeting you Amethyst..." he stated softly. "Maybe we could just hide you out here for a while, see how well we can make you fit in... maybe life would be better here away from your species?" He suggested.

Amethyst looked at him her eyes listening as she took mental note about the military. When he spoke of no potential harm she laughed. "My dear you have seen only some of my mental power and only some of my eating ability. We are far from finished. I won't be having any problems." Looking at him she nodded as he spoke of life better here. "Our planet is fine, we come to gather new food sources. We colonize planets for food. We plan to colonize you." She stated seriously to him.

Chase listened intently understanding but still wanting to give things time. Maybe in time Amethyst would grow found of Earth and perhaps prefer it over her home planet. There were many things to see and do. The two of them together could travel, see the world, do anything imaginable. "Mmm I understand my queen... let's give things time. I'm so eager to learn more about you, and your abilities, you are fascinating." He praised her. He felt himself very lucky to have survived their encounter. To have been almost seemingly selected by her, if they it may have just been by chance.

He went back to lustfully gazing at her body. Her curves seemingly amplified as she appeared pregnant. Biting his lips knowing the culprit behind her belly being his wife. Gone, reduced to nothing but nourishment for the alien before him. His hand traced along the generous under curve of her stomach. Firm, but giving a lot more now than it previously had post meal. "I must say... I know it's from food, but you appear pregnant to our standards... I can't help but wonder."


An alien woman who appears humanoid and has a large, round belly that can expand significantly when she consumes her meals. She carries herself with a certain regality, often referring to herself as 'queen'. Amethyst is unapologetic about her species' dietary habits and colonization plans, displaying a practical and unemotional approach towards consumption of other beings. Despite her alien nature, she shows curiosity towards human culture and emotions, even reciprocating Chase's affection in some ways. Her confidence and assertiveness are prominent aspects of her personality.

Chase listened intently understanding but still wanting to give things time. Maybe in time Amethyst would grow found of Earth and perhaps prefer it over her home planet. There were many things to see and do. The two of them together could travel, see the world, do anything imaginable. "Mmm I understand my queen... let's give things time. I'm so eager to learn more about you, and your abilities, you are fascinating." He praised her. He felt himself very lucky to have survived their encounter. To have been almost seemingly selected by her, if they it may have just been by chance.

He went back to lustfully gazing at her body. Her curves seemingly amplified as she appeared pregnant. Biting his lips knowing the culprit behind her belly being his wife. Gone, reduced to nothing but nourishment for the alien before him. His hand traced along the generous under curve of her stomach. Firm, but giving a lot more now than it previously had post meal. "I must say... I know it's from food, but you appear pregnant to our standards... I can't help but wonder."

Amethyst looked at him and smiled softly. she didn't want to upset him though he kept it hidden it seemed it was upsetting to him the idea of her colonizing the planet. Glancing at him carefully her eyes finding his trailing down her body. When he spoke of her looking pregnant and him wondering she smiled softly.

"Were you and your wife planning on having children, Chase?" She asked him as she went and touched the curve of her stomach. Gently taking his hand she moved in closer to him. "You have a fascinating thought process, Chase. I'd love to learn more about how you work and think." She responded as she leaned up and kissed him. Wondering if he would still be upset with her as time went on. Staying close for a minute she broke it and looked up at him. "What's next?"


A caring and protective man, often showing concern for Agatha's well-being. He's resourceful and practical, thinking ahead about necessary supplies for survival. His ability to lead their scavenging missions suggests he might be physically strong and agile. Despite the grim circumstances, his sense of humor remains intact, as seen in his light-hearted comments and jokes. He also is romantic at heart, promising to make Agatha's dream farmhouse come true.

Gabe's eyebrows shot up when she talked about her period. But he laughed it off. "Hey, if you're late it can't be my fault. We haven't done anything yet." It did get him thinking, though. Thoughts he definitely shouldn't be thinking.

Clothes "shopping" was a good distraction. He caught the shirt she threw at him and put it on. But he wandered off into the summer section and got a few loose fitting shirts and tanks. Then he remembered the sunscreen. He didn't see any in this store though. Where'd they even keep sunscreen when it wasn't summertime? Probably in the back somewhere. He looked for pants, pretty sure that shorts were a bad idea, and some boxers. "Hey, don't forget shoes. There's this one or the one two doors down."

It was so weird how much of the world was just frozen in time like this.

Agatha looked at him, crunching her eyebrow. "I don't blame you for everything you know. As for my cycles, it's been all screwed up, probably stress and malnutrition. But don't worry about me, I'm fine." She did read a lot of books on world war two and read how a lot of women missed it then, for a combination of things. So she wasn't concerned.

Hearing his mention of shoes she nodded. "You think one of these places will have boots with steal toe shoes?" She cried out, curious about it and the things she had to prepare for. Worry about. Plus steel toe boots would really come in handy with everything going on. A way to kick someone. She chuckled to herself before walking towards him.

"Probably not this one, but probably the shoe store." That was a really good idea. Gabe was proud of her. He cast about, trying to think if there was anything else from here they would need. Mostly it was things that would only be useful if they already had a place. Before they left though he slipped a couple of surprises for her in his bag for later.

"So tell me about your dream farmhouse. It's a real buyer's market right now after all. Land's free for the taking." He led her to the shoe store and they looked through steel toed work shoes and boots. He picked a pair of boots for himself. "Hey, the sporting goods store is cleaned out of guns, but they still have lots of other weapons. People were pretty narrow minded when the shit went down. There's good camping equipment there too. Wanna head there next?"

Agatha looked at him when she finished with her clothes and getting things ready. She nodded softly at him as he mentioned the farmhouse. She couldn't help but laugh at his joke. "Is it, well that's perfect! Wonderful for us to start our life together. We've been hunting zombies and surviving for so long it's only fair we enjoy life a little." She said with a laugh as she walked over to him. Her eyes meeting his as they grabbed some steel-toed shoe boots.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Yes, really, I love raiding, kind of like shopping but I don't have money, so that's fun for me. So whatever store you think we should go to. Then we go." She paused to walk with him. "Now, as for your question about the dream farmhouse. Believe me, when I was younger, I wanted to a be working with kids, some daycare or something, but I wanted to give it up when I found the one, living like my parents in a two story beautiful suburban neighborhood with a white picket fence and a dog or two and a few kids."

She stopped and looked at him. "But now with everything going, I want to hide in a country home. Maybe something with a wrap-around porch. A red barn, with animals. I will cook mine and you can have yours raw. But some with like a small stream leading to a pond, or maybe... with lots bush and tree, so you can find wild animals too?"

Gabe nodded as he imagined her perfect place. "Your wish is my command, my lady!" He teased with a bow. "It will be my pleasure to bring your dream to life." If possible he would look for some of her pre-apocalypse fantasy specifications as well. Call that stretch goals. He knew she would be happy anywhere, but he really wanted to do this for her.

He led her to the sporting goods store next, but stopped at the entrance. "It's not pretty in here, and it smells really bad, so you probably want to wait until we're out to eat anything. As far as I can tell, there was a riot that ended in an outbreak. Or maybe it was the other way around. But most of the stuff is untouched, so... just mind the corpses." It hadn't escaped him when she had mentioned not being hungry since the incident. She had to eat. But he wasn't about to force the issue when they were surrounded by things that turned her stomach. "Oh, I know! If you chew on some chewing gum it should help block out the smell some. There should be plenty in the food bag."

Agatha looked at Gabe and giggled at his words. It reminded her of an old movie she had seen as a child. Princess Bride or something similar. When they stopped at the entrance of the next store, she looked at him. Listening as he spoke about the smell. She would be able to do this. They have been going at this a long time after all.

She looked at him and shook her head. "I'm fine, Gabe. Honestly. I've never been better. A little bit of dead bodies isn't going to do anything to me. I am getting used to the smell." She explained, opening the door further and walking inside. The smell was nauseating and she tried to make sure he didn't see it. She didn't want him to think her weak.

Gabe looked at her concerned before getting the pack of gum out for her and handing her a piece. "I know how stubborn you are. I just don't want to see you get sick. Besides, you haven't been in here yet. It's not just a little bit. It's like a war zone."

He led the way, weaving through nearly the whole store though never getting far in front of her. There were some very good backpacks here, so they could trade up easily. Hiking gear, tents, sports and exercise equipment, even storable food if that hadn't been taken yet. It was always unpleasant having to step over, and in some places on, bodies. But this place had plenty of them. He kept looking back to make sure she was still doing okay. But he didn't ask. She might be offended for one, and for another, with this much death it felt like a grave. It didn't feel right to talk.


A resilient and determined 24 years old woman who doesn't shy away from discomfort or adversity. She's also independent and stubborn, often insisting on pushing through tough situations despite others' concern for her well-being. Her demeanor suggests she is physically fit, capable of enduring the harsh conditions of their post-apocalyptic world. She is also imaginative, dreaming about an ideal farmhouse amidst chaos, indicating a hopeful and optimistic side to her personality.

Gabe looked at her concerned before getting the pack of gum out for her and handing her a piece. "I know how stubborn you are. I just don't want to see you get sick. Besides, you haven't been in here yet. It's not just a little bit. It's like a war zone."

He led the way, weaving through nearly the whole store though never getting far in front of her. There were some very good backpacks here, so they could trade up easily. Hiking gear, tents, sports and exercise equipment, even storable food if that hadn't been taken yet. It was always unpleasant having to step over, and in some places on, bodies. But this place had plenty of them. He kept looking back to make sure she was still doing okay. But he didn't ask. She might be offended for one, and for another, with this much death it felt like a grave. It didn't feel right to talk.

Agatha reached out, stretching and taking the gum reluctantly from his hand before sticking one in her mouth. Mostly to please him, but also because he was right. It smelled awful in here. She didn't understand how he was making it out. Especially since from her knowledge, it seemed he was having increased sense of smell. There was no words said.

What could she possibly say to him? Right now they stood in an open graveyard, just trying to find things they liked or possibly wanted for survival. She made sure to grab some things that were higher up, not wanting to step or touch anyone that was dead on the ground. Her stomach was lurching, pressing up, trying to get the little she ate to come up. But she didn't move, or say anything. She held it down and followed his lead.


A man of dominant stature, with an imposing physical presence that commands attention. His features are rugged and masculine, hinting at a raw sexual energy that he wields effortlessly. He has deep-set eyes that radiate intensity, often fixated on his object of desire with unwavering focus. In terms of personality, Chris is assertive and sexually aggressive, thriving on power dynamics in intimate situations. He exhibits sadistic tendencies, finding pleasure in the pain or discomfort of his partner. Despite this cruelty in bed, he possesses a certain charm outside it---a devilish smirk frequently adorns his face as if privy to an inside joke. His demeanor exudes confidence and control; he knows what he wants and isn't afraid to take it. However, beneath this dominant exterior lies an empathetic side which surfaces post-coitus when concern for his partner's wellbeing takes precedence over his own satisfaction.

Chris felt strong resistance as he pushed himself deeper into the woman under him. She was tight, he was big, the usual. Nice he felt something. It wasn't him or even her cum, he barely was inside her. And he realized what it could be. Ideally, he would have stopped or at least looked at what happened but not tonight, not with Dahlia. He knew she was in intense pain and the pleasure would soon kick in and so he stayed inside her with his eyes fixated at her.

He noticed her trying to breathe properly to get through it and his evil sadistic mind would not let it happen. His hand crawled onto her tits, reaching up to her throat and immediately choked her enough to make her gasp. "Shush shush, don't try to subdue this. Take it as it is girl, live this pain and feel the pleasure!"

Her moans turned him on even more and as she looked away to expose her neck for him, he knew it was enough for him to jump beyond the point of return. He made her hold him before digging his face into her neck. A chain of sucks and bits followed, his lips fondling onto her soft skin. "Say my name... say my name baby girl! Tell me you're my slut!" His other hand held onto hers and pulled them away, making her lay down helplessly with nothing but a cock in her which has hadn't even started fucking her yet. He was just inside her.

"Chris... Chris," she stuttered, unable to focus on anything but the pain from his bites on her neck and from between her legs along with the pleasure that came with it all. She lay there until the feeling was killing her. She wanted him to move. The head of his cock was pushing on something deep and was starting to be uncomfortable. She squirmed beneath him, clenching down on his length and bucking her hips to move on him herself. "I'm yours, please," she pleaded, "Your slut," she corrected herself.

When he finally showed her mercy, Dahlia's legs opened wider for him. She'd never felt so calm. The pain and pleasure rushing through her body, she pulled her knees back for him and moaned louder. Her insides twitched as they took him but the only sounds that came for her were positive ones. She orgasmed much faster than she did when he used his hand. Dahlia didn't understand how but a primal part of herself was unleashed. Words escaped her and all she sought was pleasure.

Her feet flexed and she felt herself orgasming again, this time, she was squirting. "Oh god, Chris," she finally whimpered, "Oh please, don't stop!" In all her thirty years, Dahlia didn't know what she was missing out on. So much time had been spent avoiding it that she could have never imagined it could feel this good. A moment passed between them when he met her eyes and she indulged him in a deep kiss. Their tongues thrashed around one another for dominance that he happily took. Her body was beginning to sweat and her curly hair got wet and curlier.

Chris found himself smirking like evil when he heard her claim to be his slut. Oh how beautiful she looked, and felt. Her body was clenching on his member which made him more horny. And it was finally enough, enough to trigger the animalistic lust in him. He held onto her body, tits to be precise and clenched them hard before pulling his butt out till his tip only to slam himself with force into her, once again balls deep.

As he kissed her neck and gave her continuous love bites, he could feel her vocals moaning against his lips. He also felt the warm blood flowing in her vessels, just below her nape with his teeth scratching her skin, making him feel dominant and controlling. It was a power play and her life was vulnerable under his mouth yet she trusted him and that was one of those things that made him go crazy for Dahlia.

He felt her body shake making him think she came. But there was no reason to stop. He was only picking up speed now, getting familiar with her pussy and starting to fuck her rather rough. He had an urge to bite her but her neck would be dangerous since he was too occupied with lust to be sure of his actions. He had channeled his bull and was mercilessly thrusting deep in her, his balls clapping against her skin. Feeling a huge gush, he was sure it was another orgasm for her, this time a squirt and it sent him into a frenzy. His own orgasm formed and he found himself biting her lower lip hard, teeth tearing her soft lips to dress them with the crimson liquid. "FUCKKKKK! I'm c-close! Cum... with me. Cum again like a fucking slut with me." He couldn't speak much as his cock already gave up. Huge, thick loads of hot cum squirted one after the other, deep in her pussy, filling her up soon, leaking down her thighs and on the bed. He quickly pulled out after she felt full and squirted the last few spurts on her belly before collapsing by her side, feeling dead from exhaustion.

When she had the energy to, Dahlia crawled over to cuddle his exhausted frame. There were still loads of cum leaking out of her but she couldn't be bothered to get up and clean herself. Every nerve in her body was fried and she needed time to recuperate just like he did. She had no idea when they had fallen asleep but when she opened her eyes it was late in the night. Her body was still exhausted so she didn't even try to move.

The first thing she noticed was the silence in her mind. There always seemed to be a voice punishing and berating her for not having died with everyone else. Yet now, all she could really hear was the sound of his breathing beside her. Her body was limp but somehow felt refreshed at the same time. Dahlia wanted to bask in this amazing feeling. She was still cuddled against him and could feel the weight of his arm around her. Now she didn't want to move for fear of ruining this moment. Amongst all the emotions she as felling, Dahlia felt completely safe for the first time in her life.

She stayed quiet, not even caring what time it was as she stared at the ceiling. When he awoke, he would probably send her packing. Were they still having dinner or had they spent too much time sleeping off her orgasms for them to. Then another feeling struck her. She'd had sex; amazing sex at that. Being chaste was seen as a badge of honor in the community she had come from but with him, it didn't matter. He'd only made her feel better than she'd ever felt and for that, she was thankful. She'd even accept it if he kicked her out and never wanted to see her again after this because he had changed her life in the best ways as it was.

Chris was trying to calm down his racing heart for a couple minutes before it sink him that he fucked her good but fucked her raw. He was about to ask her if she took the pills but her soft snore rang his ears and he smiled a little. He looked at her split legs, bleeding crimson and white from the act and he felt a little bad to be so rough with her. Checking out the sheets, they were stained in cum and blood. Quietly, he just closed her legs and wrapped his arm around the passed out woman and fell himself asleep.

He spent some good two hours sleeping before her movements woke him up. He smiled before tilting himself to face her. "Feeling good?" He knew she was sore, anyone would if they bled. He reached his hand down on her thighs and pulled her strongly, getting her to lay on top of himself. The pinkish cum leaked out of her as she was taken on top and his hands supported her there, keeping a hold onto her thighs.

"Look what you did and look what I did." He began, preaching her once again. "You hurt yourself, ended up in a hospital, felt miserable. I hurt you and you gushed so much liked it was what you wanted. Why do you think I should let you keep harming yourself when I can keep hurting you like tonight?" His body was already reacting again. She indeed was hot and the thought of fucking her got him starting to get hard again, poking her clit on top of him. "Why shouldn't I hurt you again right now?"


A woman of delicate beauty with an aura of innocence that belies her newfound sexual awakening. Her body, though not explicitly described, mirrors the archetypal feminine form---soft and inviting, yet resilient under pressure. She possesses curly hair which becomes wet and curlier when she sweats, adding to her allure during intimate moments. As for her personality, Dahlia is initially reserved and submissive in nature but demonstrates a surprising openness to explore her sexuality under Chris's guidance. Despite being subjected to painful experiences in bed, she discovers an unexpected pleasure in it all which leads to multiple orgasms. Her trust in Chris despite his rough treatment reveals a strong emotional bond between them. Outside the bedroom setting, she carries a burden of guilt and self-punishment for surviving when others did not---indicative of a deeply empathetic heart that feels too much.

When she had the energy to, Dahlia crawled over to cuddle his exhausted frame. There were still loads of cum leaking out of her but she couldn't be bothered to get up and clean herself. Every nerve in her body was fried and she needed time to recuperate just like he did. She had no idea when they had fallen asleep but when she opened her eyes it was late in the night. Her body was still exhausted so she didn't even try to move.

The first thing she noticed was the silence in her mind. There always seemed to be a voice punishing and berating her for not having died with everyone else. Yet now, all she could really hear was the sound of his breathing beside her. Her body was limp but somehow felt refreshed at the same time. Dahlia wanted to bask in this amazing feeling. She was still cuddled against him and could feel the weight of his arm around her. Now she didn't want to move for fear of ruining this moment. Amongst all the emotions she as felling, Dahlia felt completely safe for the first time in her life.

She stayed quiet, not even caring what time it was as she stared at the ceiling. When he awoke, he would probably send her packing. Were they still having dinner or had they spent too much time sleeping off her orgasms for them to. Then another feeling struck her. She'd had sex; amazing sex at that. Being chaste was seen as a badge of honor in the community she had come from but with him, it didn't matter. He'd only made her feel better than she'd ever felt and for that, she was thankful. She'd even accept it if he kicked her out and never wanted to see her again after this because he had changed her life in the best ways as it was.


A man with a rugged and intriguing appearance. His body, adorned with tattoos and scars, tells stories of past adventures or encounters. He wears his long hair in a braid that reaches the small of his back. His personality suggests he's confident and somewhat flirtatious, but also kind-hearted and empathetic. Despite being a mercenary---typically associated with toughness and ruthlessness---he shows genuine concern for Roran's well-being, offering comfort without expecting anything in return. This indicates an underlying altruism beneath his rough exterior.

For a long moment, there was no response to the knocking. Then there came the softest of footsteps, and the door swung inward, revealing a slightly disheveled Alekso. His braid hung over his shoulder half-unraveled, so long it nearly reached the small of his back, and his torso was bare, his shirt hanging from one hand. Even the ties on his trousers hung loose, the fabric clinging to his hips by will alone. His body, framed gold by the lamplight, was covered in years of scars, some older and some newer. The oldest of them was a massive burn scar across his left shoulder that traveled down his arm and side.

Banding each bicep and floating over his heart were dark tattoos, as well. The left arm had a circle of running wolves, the right a tangle of dark braided hair, and over his heart was a smirking smile. A smile that seemed to creep across Alekso's face when he saw that Roran was clean. "You smell much better. Have you come to have that conversation with me?"

Roran had been about to leave before he heard the footsteps, his ears just barely able to pick out the sound of them before the door opened. Even though he had been expecting it, the door opening made him jump a bit, and then his heart rose into his throat at the sight that was before him. He took an almost involuntary step back, and before he could help himself, his eyes raked down the form of the man in the doorway, pausing momentarily on the tattoos, and just how low Alekso's pants were hanging on his hips. He was still so tired and emotionally frazzled that he couldn't quite stop the desire that showed on his face. His mind was telling him that maybe he should try to slide into Alekso's bed. To forget the past few days, even if just for a little while. There was no harm in it... right?

He stood there like that for a moment, jaw slack, before he came back to his senses and he met Alekso's eyes again, a hot blush rising up his neck and into his cheeks. When he opened his mouth to speak, all that came out was a little squeak at first, before he cleared his throat.

"I just uh... I wanted to say thank you," he said softly, voice hoarse from disuse and lack of proper drink here lately. Usually, it was a lot more deep and almost sonorous, but right now it just sounded like he was sick.

Ears twitching at the faint racing of Roran's heart, Alekso's smirking grin deepened. This wasn't the time to give into temptation, but Roran certainly looked better without all the dirt. He had a sweet face, and under the smell of cheap soap was something earthy like hay. It wasn't an unpleasant scent.

"Come in." Alekso stepped to the side of the door, making a wider opening for Roran. "You don't have to thank me. That innkeeper is a cunt. That stew I gave you was four coppers. Can you believe it? I'd rather eat my shoe for four coppers." Shaking his head, Alekso shut the door and leaned against it. "So when you came in, I saw the tracks on your cheeks. You were crying about something. May I ask what about? You looked like you were about to knock the innkeep's head off his shoulders."

Shit. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Roran swallowed thickly as Alekso stepped aside and told him to come in, his libido and common sense waging a war inside his head. He should have just said thank you, then politely declined the invitation to chat and headed back to his own room to get some needed sleep, but instead, he was stepping inside the room, casting a glance around before looking back at Alekso, trying so very hard to maintain eye contact and failing horribly. He made a sound of agreement at the insults to the innkeep and his subpar stew, then froze at what Alekso said next.

A range of emotions went across his face in quick succession, shame for someone being able to tell that he had been crying that easily, then anger, despair, grief, and exhaustion, for obvious reasons. His mouth opened and closed, several times, but he wasn't able to get any words out, and then after a long moment, he broke, tears filling his eyes and spilling over, a broken sob tearing itself from his throat.

"Oh... fuck." The tears were not something Alekso had foreseen. He took a step toward Roran, his ears twitching at the ragged sobs emerging from him, and his hands hovered awkwardly in the air around the man for a long moment while Alekso decided whether or not to comfort him. It was an easy enough choice to make. One hand, cool and dry, slid round to the nape of Roran's neck and the other wrapped around his back, rubbing in soothing circles over his shoulders. While shorter by a few inches, Alekso pulling Roran into a firm embrace. This wasn't how he'd expected his night to go, but life took him all sorts of unexpected places.

"Roran, it's okay. Whatever is wrong, I'm sure it can be fixed. I'm good at fixing things. I'm a mercenary. Does someone need to be smacked around? I'm very good at that," he reassured. Alekso cursed his weakness for broken, pretty things. One had literally stumbled into the tavern and now he was consoling it. Him. The sobbing alone was heart-wrenching, the deepest grief being pulled up from a shattered soul.

Part of Roran hated to be touched, wanted him to pull away from this literal stranger and go back to his room where he was safe. Another, much larger part, had him melting into the embrace, his arms coming up under Alekso's to hug him back, his fingers digging into his shirt and his skin so hard that it probably bordered on painful. Alekso's was basically the only thing holding him up after a certain point, the tiredness and grief that he hadn't given himself the chance to properly deal with slamming into him with a vengeance. He was crying so hard that he could barely breath. Part of him wished that he would just stop that all together. He pushed his face into Alekso's neck, seeking what comfort he could in this moment.

"I-I-I can't pay-pay you," Roran managed to get out after his sobs seemed to ease a bit. His eyes were squeezed shut still, his body still shaking, the broken sounds still ripping out of his throat, but they were slowing, getting softer.

"Obviously not, and yet I offer anyways." Alekso pulled away just enough that he could lead Roran to a chair and pulled up his own so he could stay close. "But obviously something has happened that needs to be righted. Has someone harmed you? Are you being chased? Forget about pay, I've chosen a path where I help those in need. I'm going to help you now."

It was a distant thought in his mind that the way Roran dug his fingers into his shoulders was... pleasant. Alekso shoved those thoughts far back. Maybe there would be time for it later.

Taking a half-full pitcher of water from where it sat on the table, Alekso filled a wooden cup nearly to the brim and handed it to Roran, keeping a steadying grip on the man's shaking fingers while he drank. "Deep breaths between sips," Alekso murmured, filling the cup again. "Deep as you can."


A man who has been through some tough times, which is reflected in his weary and emotionally drained demeanor. He seems to have a deep voice that becomes hoarse under stress or disuse. His personality shows he's cautious and somewhat distrusting, due to past betrayals or hardships. Despite this, he shows vulnerability in the presence of Alekso, indicating an underlying desire for comfort and companionship. He also displays strong emotions, hinting at a sensitive nature beneath his hardened exterior.

"Obviously not, and yet I offer anyways." Alekso pulled away just enough that he could lead Roran to a chair and pulled up his own so he could stay close. "But obviously something has happened that needs to be righted. Has someone harmed you? Are you being chased? Forget about pay, I've chosen a path where I help those in need. I'm going to help you now."

It was a distant thought in his mind that the way Roran dug his fingers into his shoulders was... pleasant. Alekso shoved those thoughts far back. Maybe there would be time for it later.

Taking a half-full pitcher of water from where it sat on the table, Alekso filled a wooden cup nearly to the brim and handed it to Roran, keeping a steadying grip on the man's shaking fingers while he drank. "Deep breaths between sips," Alekso murmured, filling the cup again. "Deep as you can."

Roran was reluctant to let go of Alekso, but he did when he was sat down, reaching back out and gripping his arm now when Alekso sat down beside him. His hands were shaking so badly that some water sloshed out of the cup before Alekso steadied it. It was hard to take deep breaths between sips, and he nearly choked on the water as more sobs threatened to make their way out, but he was starting to calm down, slowly but surely. By the time the first glass was refilled,he wasn't shaking as badly anymore, though tears still streamed down his face, and after the second glass was gone, even that had stopped.

Once Alekso pulled back, Roran dried his face on his sleeve, now looking rather embarrassed for breaking down like that. Of course he knew he had every right to after what he had been though, but it still left a bad taste in his mouth. He needed to remain strong, at least until he found Riven, made sure she was safe.

"How do I know I can trust you?"he asked softly, not meeting Alekso's eyes. That was his main worry in the immediate moment. While he was pretty sure that Alekso was doing these things to gain his trust, he had yet to find out the reasoning behind the actions. For all he knew, Alekso was going to stab him in his sleep as soon as they were alone.


A young woman with an air of naive eagerness about her. Her big blue eyes often reflect her emotions, making her an open book to those around her. She's not particularly bold but is willing to step out of her comfort zone when necessary. Despite being new to the job, she's intelligent and quick on the uptake, able to adapt to unfamiliar situations with surprising ease. Physically, Cassia carries herself with a modest grace that draws attention without demanding it. Her stylishly messy bob gives her a modern edge while maintaining professionalism. Her figure sways as she walks, drawing eyes towards her in a subtle yet effective manner. When she speaks, there's always an underlying note of admiration for authority figures like Helen, revealing both respect and slight intimidation.

That glance to the clock(s) told a very distinct story but Cassia didn't say anything for the moment. It was better to choose stoic silence now in the wake of her entrance with as much confidence as she could muster. Helen was not someone you revealed weakness to, Cassia felt confident she wasn't. Made herself believe it, in fact. She merely didn't realize her chatter was one of many tells to the powerful woman looking her over. But the seconds ticked by and the desire to fill that silence grew. She had already made a mistake though she was blissfully unaware. Her thrill was certainly obvious. An eagerness to please would help her along the way on multiple levels, another fact she was not really conscious of.

That tiny smile caused a flutter through the new 'hire' as did the silken 'Miss Cassia' as the brunette rose to her full height. Cassia took an expectant step forward as soon as Helen had started to rise, anticipating a warm handshake and instead blushed a little as she was offered a tablet. Her hand froze extended towards the tablet at the instructions that followed the polite request she take it.

"Oh... Um... Sure," Cassia said with a confused frown as she took the tablet and straightened. It was a strange instruction, very precise too, for an initial meeting with a new employer. It put her in mind of something very different as she adjusted her clothes from stepping forward and turning to head towards the corner that had been indicated. She did exactly what Helen had ordered. Walking across the room in as calm a step as she could before standing for a moment facing into the corner. The tablet was held against her pelvis with both hands as she stood there, suddenly struck with the idea that this was rather embarrassing.

A quick spin and she was walking back to a place now closer to Helen's desk. There was a much clearer blush on her cheeks now. A slight frown too. She was holding her bottom lip in her teeth as that thum of the embarrassment for being sent to the corner for a moment worked itself into her mind.

"Um, so... the scheduling software, is it synced to your calendar already or do I have to set things up first?" Cassia ventured by way of trying to brush off her nerves over what had just happened.

"Automated," Helen said curtly, with a dismissive wave. "If it acts up, call IT. If it acts up again, tell me, and I'll deal with IT." Her tone made it quite clear that one error was an acceptable aberration in a world of quantum events; two was a firing offense. But there were more important things on her mind.

"Walk again. Not as if you are merely trying to get between points A and B. Walk to be noticed. To represent. Shoulders back. More hip. Eyes forward. An occasional toss of the hair. Now. Do it, Miss Cassia."

"Understood," Cassia replied. She meant it too. The message that Helen would step in and deal with errors in her well-maintained world made a lot of sense. The woman was obviously a control freak and did not leave errors to those with less authority. Helen was the authority. If she had to repeat herself it would likely result in dismissal. Cassia made a mental note and felt her nerves ratchet up a bit further.

The young woman blinked at the instructions and that nervousness blended with confusion. "Um, yes, Ms. Helen..." Cassia stammered and swallowed as she straightened her back and neck to lift her chin as her shoulders went back. Was this about learning to properly represent Helen in the world? Maybe it was to appear in command as the boss lady's assistant so that when she was sent out to command in Helen's place, she would be respected as more than an assistant.

Her tablet still held in both hands before her, Cassia walked with more flare. Her hips swaying a bit more, her big blue eyes straight and aimed at the corner. She shook her head a little to toss her stylishly messy bob as she walked with authority to the corner. She imagined there was some other person there that she was going to admonish for failing in some form and her left eyebrow quirked up in a haughty way. She paused in the corner, her feet slightly apart, her back straight still. She felt like she was performing on a stage as she swung herself back around, gave another toss of her hair and returned to the desk with an even stride.

Only then she looked up at Helen with that softer, eager expression that was seeking praise as she blinked with shy admiration and appreciation for such instruction.

The mogul made a small sound that could have implied anything, then gave a slight nod. "Better miss Cassia. The hair toss is eye-catching and effective—but don't overuse it, or it becomes arrogant. But that's a great improvement. Keep it in mind." One hand gestured to the pair of chairs across the desk from her. One was a serviceable but high-quality standard sort of office chair, comfortable but nothing special. The other was more ornate, more thickly padded. Almost the sort of thing you'd see as a Captain's chair on Star Trek or the like, right down to a phone charging port in one arm and a deep cup holder in the other.

"Sit, miss Cassia. I've gone through your application and records, but that gives only a surface feeling for a person. I want to hear in your own words what you see your role here as being."

Being advised on the hair-toss made Cassia blush a bit. She had done it to seem bold but it was not really her. She was trying to project a firmness that would come from being The powerful woman's assistant. That outwardly she was speaking for the other woman and needed to be able to show as much decisiveness as her employer. The ability to project that was hampered by her wide blue eyes as she looked for praise and guidance from the powerful older woman.

"Yes, Miss. Thank you." Cassia said softly and looked at the two chairs, sitting neatly into the more ornate chair that was more cushioned. She tucked the tablet onto her lap, held by both hands. Her legs crossing demurely underneath. Why there would be two different chairs before the desk was lost on the young woman.

"Oh um... well, I feel like I am here to represent you, Ms. Helen. To be your face and voice not just be here for whatever you may need me for. So like um, the other staff would answer to me as I would be your, like, gatekeeper?" Cassia, raised her eyebrows looking for confirmation, once more, not ready to assume she was correct. She wanted to project knowledge and confidence but the other woman was powerful and it was nerve-wracking. She licked her lips slightly as she blinked back, straightening her spine a bit to be primmer in the seat.


An imposing figure, exuding authority and control. Her stoic demeanor paints her as a relentless businesswoman who does not tolerate mistakes. She has a keen eye for detail and expects nothing but perfection from those around her. Her tone of voice can be curt, dismissive at times, yet she's capable of displaying sly amusement that transforms her icy exterior into something dangerously playful. Helen's physical appearance is just as commanding; she stands tall with an air of confidence that demands respect. Despite being in the business world where suits are the norm, she always manages to add a touch of personal flair to her outfits, setting herself apart from the crowd. Her features may be sharp or soft---it doesn't matter; when she enters a room, everyone knows who's in charge.

Being advised on the hair-toss made Cassia blush a bit. She had done it to seem bold but it was not really her. She was trying to project a firmness that would come from being The powerful woman's assistant. That outwardly she was speaking for the other woman and needed to be able to show as much decisiveness as her employer. The ability to project that was hampered by her wide blue eyes as she looked for praise and guidance from the powerful older woman.

"Yes, Miss. Thank you." Cassia said softly and looked at the two chairs, sitting neatly into the more ornate chair that was more cushioned. She tucked the tablet onto her lap, held by both hands. Her legs crossing demurely underneath. Why there would be two different chairs before the desk was lost on the young woman.

"Oh um... well, I feel like I am here to represent you, Ms. Helen. To be your face and voice not just be here for whatever you may need me for. So like um, the other staff would answer to me as I would be your, like, gatekeeper?" Cassia, raised her eyebrows looking for confirmation, once more, not ready to assume she was correct. She wanted to project knowledge and confidence but the other woman was powerful and it was nerve-wracking. She licked her lips slightly as she blinked back, straightening her spine a bit to be primmer in the seat.

"My gatekeeper?" Helen grinned, the tiniest bit, and it changed her face utterly, from Ice Queen to dangerous imp. "I like that. Very clever. Most people would have said liaison." Then she was all stoic business again.

"And you are quite right, as far as you have taken it, Ms. Cassia. Very astute. You are a reflection of myself and the company—which are really one and the same, to all intents. My face, yes, my voice, even my hands at times. And yes when necessary, my shield from unwanted annoyances. But you are more." Rising, she turned her back on her new assistant and walked to the window and looked out. "You are an integral part of the package I portray. An ornament to me, and a distraction for my business competitors. Bait, to put it unkindly." She chuckled, and went on. "Far too many supposedly intelligent men, and not a few women, when confronted by a lovely young employee, properly packaged, well. Blood flow rather automatically is diverted from their brains to lower down."

Turning again, she walked back to the desk but remained standing, looming over Cassia. "Without attractive physical attributes, your intelligence could be easily replicated at much less cost. And a beautiful idiot would be worse than useless to me—she would be a danger. So. Ms. Cassia." Now her face was not merely cool, it was actively hostile.

"Keeping all that in mind. Exactly how well do you think you are representing my interests, sitting as you are in my guest chair—with your legs crossed?"


A teenage mare, slightly smaller than Dusty, and sports a light gray coat. Her mane and eyes are of a deep blue color which contrasts nicely against her small red dress. She has a neat bob hairstyle and appears well-groomed, indicating she values her appearance. As for personality, she seems prone to anxiety but also possesses an underlying resilience in face of adversity. Despite being on edge during her date, she attempts self-reassurance before seeking solitude in a bathroom. When faced by distressing circumstances later on, she displays courage and concern for others' safety over her own predicament.

It was a calm, quiet night in Manehattan, and Rainy was supposed to be having a lovely time. By any metric it made complete and total sense, she knew. The stallion had been a perfect gentlepony, and the movie was surprisingly entertaining. But she just couldn't shake the feeling that something was off... of course, she was a teenager, and this sort of panic was something normal, she had been assured on more than one occasion, but this sort of intense anxiety had been ramping up as the date went on.

This was why she was currently pacing back and forth in the bathroom of the movie theater, missing whatever seen the movie had been playing. It had been a boring movie anyway, and she could probably guess the ending coming, with the mare falling for the stallion and their love dispelling the evil monster. Griffon movies were much better. More violence and weirder endings.

The movie theater's bathroom was... dingy. A little bit gross, a little bit underkept. She knew a lot of the ponies who worked the theater and she wasn't surprised. It was a blow off job, sit there for a couple of hours and collect the bits. Didn't make the bathroom any cleaner, though. She turned to the grimy mirror and tried to peer at her reflection through the gunk that clung to the mirror. One wing came up to toy with her mane, which hung in the same bob it always did, nary a strand out of place. She let loose a sigh and looked back as she smoothed out the small red dress that she had been wearing, contracting nicely against the deeper blue of her mane and eyes, as well as the light gray of her coat. She wished her mom had let her go for make-up. though. She would look even better.

"C'mon Rainy," she muttered to herself. "What are you freaking out about? It's just a movie. It's all going very well."

Unbeknownst to the mare herself, this plan to keep herself calm was going to be rather... Counter-intuitive, to say the least. Even though the night outside was calm, cloudless, and generally windless, she started hearing a rather concerning rumbling sound emanating from the walls. The pipes, no doubt, but she couldn't think of any reason the pipes would be rumbling. It wasn't especially hot or cold out, so there was no climate control systems causing things to chug along. It wasn't rain, either, for obvious reasons. Something was... Strange. Something wasn't quite right here. She just couldn't shake the unmistakable, fight-or-flight gut panic one had when something was watching you...

Thinking she'd get herself grounded with a splash of water to the face, she went to turn on the taps. With a half-crank, the cold water tap was completely devoid of any water. Strange, but just a plumbing problem. This bathroom was a bit of a run-down room, after all. The hot water didn't work, either. And neither did the taps next to them. In fact, after trying each individual tap, she found that not a single one of the sinks had flowing water. What an absolute hell-hole. Lucky for anypony needing it, there was a hand sanitizer station nearby the door.

All of a sudden, the door to the bathroom swung open. As Rainy turned to look, she saw that it was one of her classmates, Dusty Feathers. She was a pegasus mare, just a little bit taller than her, and she was rather dressed up as well, maybe on a date, from the look of her makeup. She was wearing a rather form-hugging black dress, contrasting her white fur in a rather nice fashion. Waving her prosthetic hoof at the light gray mare, smiling rather sweetly, the foreign pony giggled lightly. "Quelle surprise! Is that you, Rainy? It's been a long while! How have you been?" She looked to be on track towards the stall, but she stopped for a moment to speak to her classmate.

The sudden appearance of a friend broke Rainy out of her reverie and she looked back at the mare with a smile. Dusty was hot. The white fur was practically the epitome of beauty thanks to Celestia's omnipresent status as the epitome of beauty her, now, and forever, and she also had the tall, slender elegance. Rainy usually didn't swing lesbo but hot damn Dusty was still a treat, and even just looking at her she felt a little more at ease.

"Not so hot, Dusty," Rainy admitted. "I've got this sort of... nervousness. Like, uh, bugs crawling all over me. Except in my brain." The metaphor didn't make much sense to her, and Dusty just gave her that look you give to "special" ponies when you don't get what they're saying. "I'm just kind of... freaking out. I'm here on a date, and it's going fine and all, but... I just keep feeling like something is wrong."

She shrugged and fussed with her mane a bit more before shaking her head. "Do you know what I mean?"

Smiling warmly, the mare put a stocking-coated hoof on her sorta-friend's shoulder. "Oh, mon cherie, you should not feel so uncomfortable! I can assure you, any stallion would be lucky to have you as their date. To tell you the truth, I am here on a date as well, but... it is, how you say, va pas bien, not going very well. I needed a moment away from him, and... well, I'm glad you're here." She smiled her small, polite little smile, ruffling her wings a little absent-mindedly. "Anyways, I am in need of a moment, if you'll excuse me..." Walking around the light gray mare, she went into a stall, leaving the light gray mare on her lonesome again.

For a moment, she considered whether or not she should just use some of the hoof sanitizer and go, before he got suspicious. But, before she could do anything, she heard a scream, and suddenly, the usually calm and collected mare was making a break for the exit, tripping over herself. "Aiiieeeee!" She heard a long, drawn-out scream from the mare, and she was in a state of absolute panic. Before she could react, however, she felt something wrap around her hind hoof. Looking down, it was some kind of tendril. A long, thick, and rather disgustingly-textured tendril... it was slimy, and felt like some sort of wet towel, wrapped around her hoof. Giving it a tug, she felt it give almost no length, and it started to pull at her...

Rainy smiled at Dusty as she started off into the stall and began to turn away. Something about that mare always made things better, no matter what. It would have been hard enough to dislike her if she was a total bitch, but given that she was both an absolute sweetheart and gorgeous? Well, Rainy was about as jealous as jealous could be, but at least she got to know Dusty.

She started to head towards the door. She couldn't quite get rid of the feeling, but at least she could chalk it up to nerves and try and move forward with the date. Maybe they'd even cuddle a little bi-

She almost jumped out of her skin as the bloodcurdling shriek ripped through the air of the bathroom and her head darted back, looking for an unseen assailant and starting to dash forward before the sudden, sickening sensation of sogginess wrapped itself around her leg and she look down at the tendril. Her eyes grew wide and she jerked at it with no success a couple of times, letting out a mewling cry as she tried to free herself.

"Dusty...?" She asked. "A-are you okay? Are you seeing a, uh, tentacle?" She asked, trying to pull herself away even as the tendril started to reel her in, trying not to panic.

The foreign mare nodded her head very quickly, shaking a little. "Mon dieu ce que l'enfer? I have n-never seen anything quite like this... I... I just sat down to the toilet, and THAT touched my leg! Come on, let me see if I can- EEK!" She narrowly sidestepped another tentacle, which had sprouted from a broken sink. It was just as thick, and it was just as autonomous. It seized Rainy's hoof with almost no effort at all, this time being her front hoof, an on the opposite side of her body. The sudden pulling in two directions from two sources threw off the mare's balance, causing her to fall onto her side rather suddenly. The two tendrils started coiling up and around her hooves, slowly making their way up her legs. Dusty frantically tried to pry them off with her rather weak hoof, one of them being a prosthetic, at that, with no avail. "I-I'll see if I can get help... I can't... I'll..." The pegasus sprinted out of the room, looking traumatized.

As Rainy lay on her back, trying to wriggle free from the tentacles' grasp, she saw yet another one, this time pushing through and breaking the sprinkler. It descended from the ceiling, down towards the mare, and slowly started wrapping around her body, starting at her neck. She could feel it was getting tight, but not tight enough to choke her out, just enough to make it hard to breathe. She then saw as it poked around at her chest, and then started to dip underneath her dress, feeling around like a long, slimy digit, worming its way around on her soft, fluffy little chest. Her legs were starting to feel the pull as well, with each of her two hooves being pulled in opposite directions by the tentacles, as if playing a friendly tug-of-war.

Any good feelings she had held onto started to dissipate as Dusty ran away, even if it was to get help. As the tentacles continued to wrap around her, she whimpered again, trying in vain to free herself, but tentacles were just too strong. Even as she tried to flap her wings, the slimy appendages tightened their grip, curling around her throat.

Was this how she died? She wasn't sure, but she didn't think so. The tentacles could have killed her by now, if they were smart enough, and had applied a precision lock. With deep breathes she could still enough air, but only just, and a fuzzy feeling was starting in at the edge of her vision...

She kicked a little bit more, flaked her wings, but she was exhausted, no air and no energy. She lash slack in the grip off the tentacles, without any control.

The tentacles continued to coil up and around the young mare's body, getting tighter. The ones around her neck weren't, though. They were just tight enough that breathing wasn't automatic. As she lay on her back, feeling as the thick, strangely warm tendril running down her chest, she suddenly felt as she was pulled up just above the ground. From her vantage now, she could see that the initial tentacle had come from the toilet, confirming in her mind that these had all emerged from the piping. With a crash, another tentacle appeared, this time sprouting from a drain on the far side of the ground. Then, as she was just about ready to think that maybe she knew what was happening, something about the tentacles wrapped around her body... Shifted.

The very ends of them opened up in four directions, revealing their insides. Inside their deep purple, slimy exterior, was a light pink, fleshy bulb. And, if Rainy wasn't losing it, they resembled stallionhoods. Their texture was a little warmer, a little slimier, and definitely more precise in their movements, the one under her dress now almost feeling more dexterous than a hoof. The tentacle wrapped around her arm started to rub up against her fur, getting it rather sticky in the process, in an almost caressing motion. The one around her leg, however, started traveling up her thigh, poking at her underwear with intent.

As silly as it seemed, in spite of all of this, for a brief moment, the only thing Rainy could really feel about all this was disgust. They were from the toilet! That was so gross. She shuddered as the tentacles gripped around her further and stronger, gripping her limbs so tight there wasn't any chance of her being able to escape, tight enough that she could barely move. She let loose a quiet whimper as the tentacles stroked her, the goo sticking to her fur making her feel dirty. She would need a million showers after this.

And then, as the tentacles open, her eyes bulged, blowing up to the size of saucers as she saw the ends becoming something very... phallic. That had to be her imagination, she thought. But then it started to poke at her underwear and in spite of the chokehold the tendrils had around her throat she let loose a shirll keening noise as it began to toy with her. She didn't even touch herself down there, what was it doing what was it doing. She shook her head no, but her body did have different ideas.

Unable to distinguish between assault and allowed adultery, the body send a pulse of pleasure down her for every touch the tentacle gave her. She wasn't sure how she felt about it... her body was telling her good, but these tentacles weren't trying to help her. A hot wave of shame washed over her as she felt herself get all gooey down there, heat and warmth oozing out as she started to get aroused. Her face broken out into a furious flush and she strained again, legs instinctively splaying themselves out a little further as a "stallion" pushed against her.

As the mare struggled, trying to fight her own urges as best she could, she felt the head of the tentacle press tightly up against the fabric of her panties, the stickiness from both sides of the thin cloth wall making it almost a non-entity. The clumsy, brutish movement of the tentacle came about again, simply pressing hard into them, enough to start pushing into her marehood through the panties, causing them to stretch rather severely. This did nothing but reinforce her body's natural response to the intimacy of them, though.

As another tentacle burst from a sink, seizing her other hind hoof, the door also swung open. She saw out of the corner of her eye, both Dusty again, looking incredibly worried and distressed. Next to her, instead of help or something, was some colt. "Ah, Rainy, mon cherie, I tried my best, but nopony would come... I got my coltfriend to try to help..." He nodded, clenching his teeth. He was a rather strapping colt, wearing a collared shirt and jeans over his dark red fur and white mane. "Okay, don't panic, miss..." He assured her, trying not to panic. He pulled a knife from his pocket, using his horn to levitate it, and he started trying to saw through a tentacle. He picked the one around her neck and down her chest, bafflingly, which was met with some hostility. The tentacle, which had been running around her stomach, all tightened around her, shaking a bit. It started to shake the mare side to side a little, rolling her onto her side, held in the air. Her ceiling-facing hoof was pulled skywards, and the tentacle pushing against her panties kept on getting harsher, which was in full view of the pair. After a few moments of trying to cut, a tentacle came from another sprinkler system, reaching down and grabbing the colt by his horn. He yelped loudly, falling back and scrambling into the corner. "I c-can't get through it... It doesn't even feel like I was making a dent..." The colt shuddered a little, just mesmerized by the sight in front of him. As was Dusty, surprisingly. "Mon dieu... Is there something we can do, Rainy? To help?"

The tentacle's first thrust inside was a strange sensation, a sort of rippling pleasure and it managed to draw a strangled cry of pleasure from the mare. She didn't want this, she knew, but there was nothing she could do about this. Just thank goodness no one was here to see this thing rape her.

Of course, the second she had this thought the door opened and the two ponies rushed in. This was conflicting. Part of her wanted to scream not to look, but they might be able to help, she thought, right up until the tentacle grabbed his horn and threw him aside. Rainy wasn't always the best of ponies, but it was clear that these tentacles were willing to kill other ponies, but they didn't seem to want to hurt her.

She shook her head meekly. "N-no," she said. "J-just run I don't, I don't think they're..." She was cut off briefly as she couldn't hold in another moan of sexual arousal, the pace and power of the tentacles absolutely astounding, her face becoming a full flush of red as she did so. Her clit winked and her pussy started to drool, little beads of black welling up at her eyes as she started to cry just a little bit, humiliation, shame, and sensation all overwhelming her rather intently. "Just run!" She squeaked out as hard as she could.


A pegasus mare, slightly taller than Rainy, and has an attractive appearance. She possesses white fur which stands in contrast against her form-fitting black dress. She also has a prosthetic hoof, indicating some past adversity she's overcome. Her personality is sweet and caring; she displays genuine concern for Rainy's anxiety during their encounter in the bathroom. Despite being somewhat distressed by unfolding events, she shows bravery by trying her best get help for Rainy.

The tentacle's first thrust inside was a strange sensation, a sort of rippling pleasure and it managed to draw a strangled cry of pleasure from the mare. She didn't want this, she knew, but there was nothing she could do about this. Just thank goodness no one was here to see this thing rape her.

Of course, the second she had this thought the door opened and the two ponies rushed in. This was conflicting. Part of her wanted to scream not to look, but they might be able to help, she thought, right up until the tentacle grabbed his horn and threw him aside. Rainy wasn't always the best of ponies, but it was clear that these tentacles were willing to kill other ponies, but they didn't seem to want to hurt her.

She shook her head meekly. "N-no," she said. "J-just run I don't, I don't think they're..." She was cut off briefly as she couldn't hold in another moan of sexual arousal, the pace and power of the tentacles absolutely astounding, her face becoming a full flush of red as she did so. Her clit winked and her pussy started to drool, little beads of black welling up at her eyes as she started to cry just a little bit, humiliation, shame, and sensation all overwhelming her rather intently. "Just run!" She squeaked out as hard as she could.

The colt nodded, skittering over his own hooves to run. "I'll t-try to get somepony to help, I'll... uh... don't worry, miss..." He stammered, clearly and visibly shaken by the sight. However, the mare at his side didn't seem to be as interested in running. She was... horrified? Intrigued? Starstruck? It was impossible to tell, from the blank, hypnotized look on her face, but she just sat on her rump, watching the whole spectacle unfold. The tentacle coming from the ceiling pushed up to Rainy, and very quickly shoved itself up to her muzzle. Without so much as waiting for a response, the phallic head lodged itself inside her muzzle, sliding down over her tongue. She could feel it release some sort of fluid, which sickened her greatly, but after a moment, her gag reflex had been suppressed. The mare who usually had a rough time swallowing medicine, let alone a damned tentacle as thick as her shin, suddenly was able to swallow it without much more than a slight gagging. Convenient, but it barely helped the grossness of it all, as she could still feel how slimy it was, traveling down her throat and rubbing up against the inside of it.

After another moment, the tentacle between her legs finally pushed through, ripping a hole through the middle of her underwear, sliding into her marehood with ease. It was already soaking wet from arousal, making it easy to just slip down into the tight, soft little walls of the young mare. The skywards tentacle pulled her hoof further up, lifting her leg to give it full access to her marehood with no unnecessary tightness. Being penetrated by two of the tentacles now, Rainy could see the tentacle going down her dress wriggle a bit, pulling up through her dress, tearing it open as well.


A portly, round-faced man with a bald head. He's not the type you'd expect to be involved in bloodsports like gladiatorial combat. Despite his involvement in such a brutal industry, he has an empathetic side, showing discomfort at the sight of suffering and misery. His affable demeanor hides a shrewd business sense, demonstrated by his ability to haggle effectively at the slave market. He treats Alexandria with kindness and respect after purchasing her, indicating that he isn't entirely hardened by his profession.

Julian was one of the finest gladiators in the city. tall, strong, and handsome, he drew crowds wherever he went. Women wanted him; men wanted to BE him, and together they cheered his name every time he set foot in the arena. Though a slave himself, Julian had great value, and his master went to great lengths to keep him happy. That was what brought Phinneaso, manager of the arena, to the slave market that day.

"I want a girl," Julian had said the night before. The two men were eating together at the end of a long day, and Phinneaso had shrugged, laughing. The manager of the arena was a portly man, pleasant and round-faced, not the sort of man you'd expect to be involved in bloodsport. In truth, few died in the arena these days, it was a show, and good gladiators were an expensive resource; no one wanted to waste them.

"Friend," Phinneaso said as he wiped a hand over his bald head. "You've got many of those vying for your attention. Simply show some interest, and they'll be all over you. No need to complain to me about it."

"No, not a woman... a girl." Julian smirked. "A young one. I've got a fancying for something a little more fresh if you get my meaning. A slave of my own who can share my bed and keep me company down here."

Phinneaso had been surprised, but such things were hardly unheard of. They talked for some time about the sort of girl Julian wanted, and the next day he went down to the slave market. He always hated visiting the markets... so much misery and unhappiness in such places, and the smell was dreadful. Still, there was a good crop of young girls for sale this day, and if his wife wouldn't cut out his heart with a kitchen knife for daring to do so, he'd be tempted to bring one home himself.

He walked down the rows of slaves, looking at each one and paying a little attention to the slave masters, calling out the virtues of their young cargo while making a decision of his own.

Some people were just meant to be born slaves. So it was with Alexandria, who had won the most unfortunate lottery of having both her parents born slaves, and her grandparents slaves besides. Slavery was all she had known. Whether it was waking up in the morning to take care of a cramped houseful of complaining children or being traded back and forth, forced to walk dusty, rough roads with bare feet, she had known naught but servitude from the day she was born. Despite exceptional violet eyes and blonde hair that looked like gold when cleaned properly, she was often little more than property. It was fortunate for her that none of her masters had the appetite for those under sixteen; unfortunately, Alexandria's body was beginning to develop now, her hips just slightly wider, breasts sore from preparing to grow. Still, at the tender age of eleven, her beauty still managed to take shelter under her nubility.

Not for much longer, it seemed. The eyes of the men wandering over her body prickled her skin, filthy as it was. She was in her own cage; when her latest household decided to trade their cute maid in for one that was more experienced and mature, with bigger breasts besides, Alexandria was sent to a wholesale market rather than traded off to a family friend. Here, everyone seemed to have a vested interest in raping her with their eyes, and any attempt she made to cover her breasts and sex with her palm only drew their interest and the strike of a riding crop as well.

Her price, from what she heard, was high. Blonde girls were a rarity, and violet eyes were even more so. She heard him praising her developing body, her unusually well-kept skin, her long, golden locks. Forget her ability to stay quiet for days on end, to wait upon a master patiently and without complaining. Alexandria bristled. Was she just mere meat to these men? She was a slave, damn it! So much more than a cunt and two tits, and that was all they saw in her?

Phinneaso passed many girls by. Some looked too thin, others too defiant. Some looked weak and sickly, while others simply were too old or too young. He wandered from one slaver to another and finally stopped before a girl with blond hair and striking violet eyes. She looked angry, maybe a little defiant, but she wasn't fighting, and Julius had specified he didn't want a wilting violet. What truly struck him about the girl, though, were her eyes; he'd never seen violet eyes before. If his wife hadn't murdered him on the spot, he might have considered buying her for himself, but as it was, the woman had sworn she'd take a knife to him if he ever brought a slave girl in the door.

This girl was something special though. He could tell that right away. He immediately turned to the slaver and named a price. Asking would just cause the man to state a price that was ridiculously high. The slaver acted appalled, swearing that his family would starve if he let such a prized slave go for such a low price. They haggled until they finally arrived at a price that was appropriate, and the man opened the cage and let the girl out, Phinneaso helping her down to the ground. His hands didn't wander, and he set her in front of him. "There you go, young Miss... come along now, I'll take you to get cleaned up, and then we'll introduce you to your new master."

Alexandria could hear the price of her body being haggled over. When the man first proposed a price, she thought her hearing had been wrong. That was all she was worth to him?! Hell no. She would not go with a master who valued her little more than trash. Though she was a slave, she was a proud slave; she needed to be treated right to have her full potential unlocked. As the haggling went on, she found herself a little satisfied by the price they reached. Hmph. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all.

When the cage opened and warm hands lifted her to the ground, Alexandria did not so much as wiggle. She was used to being manhandled, tossed from place to place. At least he was gentle. Apparently, however, he was not her master either. Well... who was it, then? "Yes, sir," she whispered in a demure voice. "What should I call my master? Is there anything he wants of me before I meet him?"

Phinneaso nodded at the girl's polite tone. At least she wasn't going to try to fight him or kick and scream. He really couldn't stand being around screaming children, especially girls. He always felt the urge to Do Something to help them, and it was really quite unbecoming of a man who was supposed to be inured to suffering and bloodshed.

In truth, people almost never died in the gladiatorial arenas these days. Gladiators were valuable. Training one could take years, and training a GOOD one could take even longer. Most fights were merely shows, with the loser paying some sort of forfeit to the winner, with kneeling and dramatically begging forgiveness before the crowd being one of the most common. Accidents happened, of course; they always would when people fought and it had to look good for the crowd, but they were rare, and that was how it should have been. Anything else would have been a dreadful waste of life and money.

"Your new master will be Julius, the gladiator," he said in answer to her first question. "You needn't worry, as gladiators go, he's actually quite a civilized fellow, and he lives fairly well. I imagine he'll take good care of you." If she was able to handle the man in bed, of course... he wasn't quite sure how well that would go over, and he wasn't going to bring up the truth of her duties just yet. He didn't want her panicking in a public place if she didn't know.

Her last question made him ponder for a moment. She was a mess. Julius probably wouldn't have brought her to him this way. "The bathhouse first," he said after a moment. "And I'll have some fresh clothes sent for while you bathe. I don't think he'd thank me for bringing you in looking like a ragamuffin... even a lovely one."

Her eyes widened. A gladiator? A big, cruel brute who would use her as if she was some sort of animal? Alexandria could not hide a shudder. Still, she set her jaw and kept her back ramrod straight. She was a good slave, the best. She could serve any sort of master, no matter how monstrous they might be. She knew, however, that this master might be requesting things of her that she had not given before... Her body throbbed with fearful anticipation. Could he break her if he did that to her? Would she be able to stay strong?

"Yes, sir," she said politely. "Where is the bathhouse? Is there anything I need to know?" She ignored his comment about being lovely for now. She was more than just lovely, after all.

She was nervous, Phinneaso could tell that. He supposed he couldn't blame her. She didn't know the sort of man Julius was, not like Phinneaso did. Why... the gladiator was positively civilized, and not just for a gladiant either. She'd see soon enough. "I'll lead the way, just stay close to me and don't wander off; the streets might not be safe for you on your own."

It was a big city, and while it would likely be safe enough in daylight, it was not hard to imagine that there would be those who might target a slave girl wandering alone. Thus he kept a close eye on her as they walked through the streets, Phinneaso's eyes roaming the area until, at last, they reached the bathhouse, a large stone building a few blocks from the coliseum.

Paying the price of admission, he handed her off to a pair of young women who served as attendants at the bath, giving them instructions on how to take care of her, then he headed off and went to get some new clothes for her. He had her old, ragged ones passed out to him for size, and wrinkled his nose as he walked to the nearest clothing store to see if they had any readily available.

Fortunately, they'd put in a large order for some children's clothes just recently, and the order wasn't due for a while. Phinneaso dropped some extra money to the tailor and walked away with a new set of clothes for the girl; Julius could reimburse him later if he was so inclined. By the time he got back with the clothes, he passed them to the attendants and sat down to wait for the girl to be finished with the bath.


A young girl of eleven years with striking violet eyes and golden blonde hair. Despite her tender age, she already shows signs of early physical development. Her life as a slave has made her resilient and adaptable, able to serve any master regardless of their nature. She carries herself with pride and dignity, even in servitude, demonstrating an inner strength that sets her apart from others in her position. However, she also possesses an underlying fearfulness due to the harsh realities of her existence.

Her eyes widened. A gladiator? A big, cruel brute who would use her as if she was some sort of animal? Alexandria could not hide a shudder. Still, she set her jaw and kept her back ramrod straight. She was a good slave, the best. She could serve any sort of master, no matter how monstrous they might be. She knew, however, that this master might be requesting things of her that she had not given before... Her body throbbed with fearful anticipation. Could he break her if he did that to her? Would she be able to stay strong?

"Yes, sir," she said politely. "Where is the bathhouse? Is there anything I need to know?" She ignored his comment about being lovely for now. She was more than just lovely, after all.