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berd-ze-bird · 2 years

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Force and Consequences

Chapter 1, Assault

“Hey, apple-butt! You gonna be around tomorrow?” I call when I’m done beating Silver Strike at darts. The other mare seemingly just casting me a sideways glance. I didn’t seem to care though.

“Might be,” Apple Spector answers from his spot at the bar. “Why?”

“I’m thinking about going for a run. Wanna come?” I haven’t seen him in a few days. He’s been busy doing whatever farm ponies do, and I’ve been helping fight off an Everfree storm that just didn’t want to go away, but I’m decent, so the situation is under control now.

“I might. Come by ‘round lunchtime, and I’ll see where I’m at.”

“Sounds good.” I grin. That’s code for ‘if AS doesn’t have his chores done, then I can take a nap until he’s finished.’ I give him a hoof bump and walk toward the door. It was fun to hang out for a bit and relax, but I hear a cloud calling my name.

I’m not the first one to leave tonight. Moonstone left a while ago. It’s still kind of early though, so I’m kinda thrown off when I get outside and see Flame Whipper leaning against a wall across the empty street. He usually posts up at the bar with a pitcher and stays there until closing time on the rare occasions he decides to come out, but I don’t remember seeing him inside at all. Plus, he doesn’t look like he’s leaving. He looks like he’s waiting for somepony.

Personally, I don’t think of him as bad. He’s cool, but he does give off some weird vibes to someponies. I may or may not be one of them though.

“Evenin’ Dash,” he says. He sounds just like he always does, but something feels weird. Maybe that’s the feeling everypony feels?

“Hey, Flame. You good?” I ask carefully. Letting Flame realize that I’m weirded out over nothing would be the definition of not cool.

“Yyyep. I’m just fine. Can I walk you home?”

Has he seriously been out here waiting to ask me if he can walk me to my cloudhouse?

“Uh, thanks for the offer, but I was just gonna fly,” I answered, spreading my wings and doing a little feather wave at the same time. He gives my wings a look that makes me instantly pin them back to my sides. “Catch you later,” I say awkwardly and turn away. I just want to go around the corner and take off where he can’t see me.

I hear him push off the wall and start to follow me, his heavy hooves thudding in the dirt and quickly closing the distance between us. I turn to glare at him again and ask what the fuck he thinks he’s doing, but the words get stuck in my throat.

His eyes are weird. That expression from before when he was looking at my wings is still kind of there, but it’s worse now. It makes me feel… Dirty, and not in a good way. I mean, my wings are awesome, and lots of ponies like to look at them. I don’t usually have a problem with that, but this is different. Flame never looked at me like that. Flame’s never looked at anypony like that.

“Are you sure you can make it back all that way?” He asks as he steps up beside me, closing the distance between us way too fast.

I can feel the pressure of his side resting on my back because of how tall he is. He’s ridiculously hot like he’s on fire. The places where his coat touches mine instantly feel gritty and gross. He smells like sweat, dirt, and booze. I’m going to have to take a shower when I get home; a cloudbath is not going to be enough to get the stink and grime off me.

“You had a lot to drink,” he continues.

That is total bullshit. I had four, maybe five rounds of cider in the last few hours. Plus, I’m pretty sure I could drink him under the table any day of the week. Leaders aren’t exactly known for being careful with their party habits, and I keep up just fine. With that being said, I’ve done it more than once with them.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I say and take a huge step away from him. “Thanks though.”

Even after my huge step to the side, he's still standing way too close. I can't take off with him basically standing right on top of me- not without hurting him anyway. So, I start walking again, trying to get enough space to really spread my wings without hitting him. I don’t care if he looks anymore. I just want to get away from him and go home.

The featherbrain decides to stick with me! Right next to me. He’s not really leaning on me, just walking close enough that we’re touching and there’s that pressure of him on my back again. It’s weird. He’s never been in my space like this before. Nopony has.

“You wanna go out sometime?” He asks.

It takes me a few seconds to decide that he’s being serious, but there’s no joking or sarcasm in his yellow eyes. He’s the same serious Flame that he always has been. I can’t tell if he’s drunk or not. He smells like a bar, but he’s walking just fine. Either way, he must be out of his mind.

“Umm… Thanks for the offer Flame,” I say, stepping away from him again, making sure to do it at an angle, so I keep moving down the street. “But that’s not going to happen.”

“Why not?”

“No offense, but you’re not exactly my type.” I think about telling him that I’d rather go out with his sister than him, but that doesn’t seem like a good idea right now.

“Cuz I’m not a pegasus?”

I stop walking to roll my eyes at him. He’s being an idiot. The fact that I’ve pretty much only ever dated pegasi is a total coincidence, and it doesn’t matter right now anyway. Plus, it’s none of his damn business. “Seriously?,” I snapped at him and started walking away again.

“Then what’s the problem?” he asks.

I wonder if he hit his head at work today or something. Joy practically gave me a parade the day she found out that I’m a bisexual. Everypony knows it. I know that Flame knows it. It’s Ponyville, so I’ve never felt like I had to try and hide it, but Flame is acting like a stallion asking out one of the gayest mares in Equestria just makes sense. However, I do lack interest in stallions, and I’ve mainly dated mares. So I know that he is definitely trying and it’s not working.

I stop walking to look him in the face and give my best ‘are you really drunk off your hooves or are you just being stupid?’ look. He doesn’t notice. He just keeps looking at me with that weird look in his eyes, like I’m supposed to give him some big explanation about why I won’t go out with him; like it’s not enough that I just told him no. I have to give him a reason.

For the first time in a long time, I realized how big Flame is. He’s huge. He’s leaning toward me like a boulder about to go tumbling down a mountain or something. I can hear every breath he’s taking and almost feel every time he breathes out. Plus, his smell is stinging my nose and making me feel even more crowded. That same prickling feeling goes up my spine again. The feeling that I need to get away from him is quickly changing from something fueled by weirdness to something with a little flame of panic underneath it.

We’re in the middle of the deserted marketplace, which is almost the exact opposite direction from my house. I really wasn't paying attention to where I was going before, but it’s no big deal, right? Because I’m fucking Dash, and it will take me like 7 seconds to get across town. I just need this damn thickhead to give me enough space to take off.

“I’m not into stallions, Flame,” I tell him bluntly. I give him a shove, mostly because I just want to get some space. “You’re a cool enough dude and everything, but stallions just aren’t my thing. Sorry.”

“How do you know?” he says, just as serious as ever, and instantly closes the little gap my shove made between us, pressing against me harder this time.

Now I wish I hadn’t touched him at all. The weird just keeps getting weirder, like starting to get scary weird. It’s not like Flame talks that much, but I’ve known him long enough to know that he definitely sounds different. Trying to figure out tone has never been a thing I really cared about. So, even though he sounds different, I really have no clue exactly why or what to say to him about it. It’s like I don’t know this guy at all. I just know that he’s still standing way too close, and talking way too weird, and it’s starting to freak me out.

“What?” I ask, trying not to sound distracted as I start looking around for other ponies or any way to get away from him, but the stalls are all empty. The lights are all out, except for maybe one across the street by Spark’s, but I can’t really tell.

“How do you know you don't like a stallion? Ever give one a shot?”

I went on a really awkward date with a colt back in flight school. That was enough. “Not really,” I answer, “but I know. Ok?”

Before I’m done saying the words, everything changes. He really starts leaning on me and kind of pushing me down a little side street. The shift is so sudden that my mind doesn’t know what to do with it, but every weird feeling I’ve had since I left the bar is suddenly a blaring alarm in my brain telling me to get away. My heart starts racing and I can taste something weird in my mouth. Not adrenaline- I know what that tastes like. This is fear. I’ve been afraid before, but I’ve never been so scared I could taste it.

This doesn’t make any sense. Even as my body freaks out and every physical part of me is working to get away, my mind is trying to figure out what the hell is going on and how to make it stop. This is Flame! He’s just not the kind of guy that goes around doing this kind of stupid stuff. Maybe it’s just a prank or something. My brain wants to believe that, but every other part of me knows it isn’t true.

I can't see his face through the darkness, but I’m sure that strange look is still there. I also can’t really see where I am. Every time I try to move away so I can get my bearings, he closes the distance between us. I try to push him back, but it’s like trying to move a mountain. I feel like I’m caught in a massive current or something, just trying to stay on my hooves until it stops. I try to move faster and get space that way, but there isn’t enough time. Plus, he’s practically knocking me off my hooves with every step he takes, so I can barely stay standing let alone try to get my hooves under me enough to run.

He pushes me until, with a loud thud, I’m crushed up against the rough wood plank wall of one of the empty stands.

“Flame! What gives?” I demand, turning to face him head-on.

“I’m hopin’ you do,” he answers with a dangerous little smile. He rears, hooking one foreleg under my chin, and slams me with all his earth pony might back against the wall.

I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready for him to be so damn fast. I’m one of the fastest, most agile ponies in Equestria, but somehow I let him get me pinned. It took less than a second and now I can barely breathe. The only way I’m getting out of this is if he backs off or the wall behind me breaks into pieces. I can hear the wood creaking and straining, trying to splinter under the sudden impact and weight. I hope it breaks because I’m pretty damn sure now that Flame isn’t going to stop.

“Stop it, Flame!” I try to yell but he’s still choking me with his foreleg, so, all that comes out is a pathetic, raspy little gasp.

He shuts me up by shoving his tongue down my throat, so I bite him hard. I feel my teeth break the skin and taste his salty blood in my mouth, which instantly makes me want to spit and I let go. He yelps but he doesn’t go anywhere. His breath is like smoke on my face. It’s too hot and it reeks.

His massive body is everywhere. One of his forehooves is planted to the side of my head bracing him against the wall. The other foreleg is still pressed across my neck so I can barely breathe. I can barely move my head at all. It makes it hard to keep my mouth away from his because he apparently didn’t get the message from my bite. He’s still trying to kiss me again.

I feel something creeping against my stomach. It’s his cock. It’s staring up at me and growing bigger by the second. He’s freaking huge. As panicked as I am, and as much as I want to get away, I can’t stop myself from taking half a second to just be grossed out. Dicks are disgusting. I’ve always hated it in the summer when things are just hot, and the stallions are all hanging out. It’s not their fault. It’s not like there’s anything they can do about it. It’s just fucking gross.

I’ve helped out at Sweet Apple Acres enough times that this definitely isn’t the first time I’ve seen Flame’s penis, but it’s the first time I’ve seen him hard. It makes me want to vomit. It also makes me realize exactly how much more panicked I should be. I know this because Flame is a relative of AS that comes by his place sometimes to work. This isn’t just Flame being drunk and weird. This is way worse. That soft but firm creeping sensation moving up the underside of me triggers a whole new kind of fight response. I have got to get out of this.

“This isn’t funny, Flame,” I manage to say and put as much hate into the words as I can manage. I really don’t want him to know that I’m scared, but my voice shakes and kind of cracks anyway. “Let me go.”

Then he nips me. He nips me on my damn neck like we’re some cute couple on a date. The instinct to take off is screaming in my brain. If I can just get in the air, I’ll be ok. But the nanosecond my wings unfurl he pins them against the wall. I hear a terrible crunch and pain shoots from my wingtips to my spine and back. Dark bubbles dance around the edges of my eyes until it’s almost completely black. There's no way he didn't just break something. My back arches and I try to twist away in response to the pain. My body is trying to pull my wings out from under his huge, heavy hooves but all that happens is a whole bunch of feathers gets ripped and torn from my wings.

Then he laughs. It’s more of a stupid, country boy giggle. “I heard that you pegasi like having your wings kissed,” he says. Then he does it. He puts his disgusting mouth on my wing! He nibbles his way along my leading edge and licks it. The slick, slurping sound of his tongue on my feathers triggers my gag reflex, but with his leg across my throat I can’t even throw up.

I want to rear up and kick him right in that massive shaft of his, but I can't move. I want to headbutt him, but he has my wings pinned too tight. If I try something like that it’ll probably kill me, and I'm not in the mood to die. Plus, he’s still managing to choke me somehow.

“Did you like that?” He asks softly into my ear. I think he's trying to use some husky, sexy voice crap on me. He nibbles on the sensitive edge of my ear.

“No. Now let me go.” I try to say through the chokehold. I try to push him off with my forehooves, but he’s massive. There’s just no way. I’m strong for a pegasus, but he’s a huge earth pony and it makes all the training I’ve done feel like a sick joke. He just leans into me harder. What little space I had to move is gone. Now all there is is his gross, disgusting, hard dick stuck between us and his hot, panting breath in my ear.

“Oh come on,” he hums sweetly. His breath sends a fresh bunch of prickles of fear and anger across every inch of me. “Stop actin’ like you don’t like it. You don’t even know. You might really like it if you tried it. I know you like a challenge. Let’s see if you can take it all.”

“Shut the fuck up, Flame. Let me go,” I squeak past the awkward pressure against my throat.

He pulls his barrel back. For just a second I feel a rush of relief and I think I’ve got a chance. I brace to move. Then he slams his barrel forward again. There’s a massive crunching sound that comes from my chest as much as from the cracking wall behind me. I feel things snap inside me, and I gasp desperately for a breath that I can’t catch.

“Ain’t no call for ugly talk like that,” he whispers gently in my ear again.

Then, he shifts his back hooves, widening his stance, so his muzzle lowers to the place where my shoulder meets my neck. His penis slides down and away. Again, for a second my brain races. I let myself hope that it’s all over. He’s going to let me go and this will all just be a weird thing we take a few weeks to get over, then we never talk about again.

Just before his dick flops free, it slides between my lower lips, and the worst feeling of the night washes over me. Nothing he’s done makes me want to vomit as much as realizing suddenly that I’m wet down there.

Instantly, I feel even less able to handle this. What the hell? It must be from trying to fight him off or something because I am definitely not turned on. I like it rough sometimes, but that isn’t what this is. This is just wrong, but my body's betraying me anyway. I never trained for how to respond to this.

I hope that he won’t notice.

He notices. As he slides himself past my slick slit, he hums happily to himself. Then, he starts to push forward again, slipping against me and rubbing my clit. I try not to respond, but it’s impossible. Having him touch me there feels like I’ve been stabbed with a flaming hot branding iron, and I flinch to get away.

“I told you you’d like it,” he says in a louder, way more confident voice. “Now, I promise I’m going to be real gentle-like. I’m going to show you that a stallion can be just as nice as a filly.”

I’m going to throw up. I wish I could make myself throw up. Maybe he’d get grossed out and leave me alone. Shame is racing through me. My mind is churning like a hurricane with thoughts blowing across it, but not in a way I can control. The more I think, the more I realize how fucked I am.

What is wrong with me? Why is my body making it seem like I want this? Why am I such a fucking idiot? Why didn’t I get away? Why is he doing this? What the fuck is happening to me? How am I going to get myself out of this?

I know that I have to get away. I have to keep fighting. I can’t just let this happen. I try to hit and kick and bite, but there’s nothing I can do. My forehooves feel like tiny, weak, little marshmallows as I pound them and push them against his sides and chest. My teeth are useless because I can’t move my head. Plus, I’m trying to suck in what little air my aching chest can handle.

His shoulders tense. Something really bad is about to happen.

“Flame,” I tried to yell at him. “N-” That’s all I managed to get out.

No more talking.

He flips me around like a steer at a rodeo, slams his hooves around my flanks and forces me onto himself. I scream out in breathless pain. Then again in shame at how easy it was for him to plunge his huge cock deep inside me.

I feel like my entire body is full of him, like there isn’t even room for me anymore, like my stomach and guts are going to come forcing their way out of my mouth, because there’s nowhere else for them to go. It’s like he shoved a cannon up my tail end that scraped or broke every part of my insides on the way.

I want him out. I don’t care if it means I have to explode, or disappear, or die to make it happen. I want him out of me. I want him off of me.

I try to twist away, but he shoves his hips forward driving even deeper. My head and chest crash into the splintering wood wall. The planks groan but still don’t give. The force of his thrust presses all of the air out of me. Everything feels way too tight. My lungs are sucked in on themselves. My head is smashed into the wall. The worst part is having him inside me, stretching me so far that I feel like I’m going to rip apart, but I can’t do it. I’d gladly rip myself into a million pieces just to not have him inside me anymore.

I try to scream again, not that there's anypony in this part of town to hear it, but I can’t catch a breath. Still, he wraps one foreleg around my throat and chokes me. The other he snakes around my barrel. My wings are half folded, but he's got them pinched somehow. If he puts even a little more pressure on them, I think they'll just snap off.

He thrusts his hips again, slamming me into the wall and a shower of splinters falls on my face. I felt a fresh, wet pain. Something jagged scrapes across my forehead. Then he does it again. Over and over again. My head catches on the sharp thing on some thrusts, but not on others.

I’m still trying to fight, but it’s pointless. I’m being rut. Hard. Like a dirty whore. A slut. And there is nothing I can do about it.

Everything hurts. My soul hurts like it’s being ripped from my body. I let myself start to cry and I try to scream. I have to find some way to fight back, but there’s nothing. He’s too big. He’s too strong. He’s too close. I can’t make it stop.

I keep thinking and hoping I’ll pass out from either the pain or the chokehold, but every time I start to see stars he eases up just enough to bring me back.

“It ain’t no fun if you’re sleepin’, sugar,” he says. “You just keep fightin’ me. It’s more fun that way.”

If I ever manage to look AS in the eye again, I’m going to have to tell him to never, ever call me sugar. Part of my brain can’t believe that I’m even thinking about AS right now. Or anypony of the matter. I should be trying to fight back, I should be trying to get away, and I am. I’m trying to kick, and scream, and bite, and wrench but it doesn’t matter. It isn’t helping. Maybe that’s why my brain is trying to go somewhere else, to think about anything except for what’s happening that I can’t stop. It doesn’t work. Having Apple Spector’s face flash through my mind just makes everything so much worse.

It takes forever. Eventually, he decides to clamp down the leg he has wrapped around my barrel and lift me off the ground so that he can stand to his full height. Now there’s even more pressure on my neck and chest making it even harder for me to breathe. Plus, whatever stuff cracked inside me earlier starts screaming even louder at suddenly being used as a pressure point to slide me up and down on his shaft.

“Why won’t you just cum?” His angry voice rips through my silent screams. He slams me down even harder. I feel myself rip wide open. The pain is almost enough to knock me out. Almost. “Ain’t I been nice?” he asks, doing it again.

I start praying to whatever Gods are listening that he’ll just kill me. That he’ll get so frustrated that he doesn’t ease up on my neck fast enough, or that any of the injuries he’s given me will make me bleed enough to just let me die.

“Didn’t I hold you close and kiss you like you wanted?” His grip on my neck gets tighter, and things start to go black again. Every time he asks a question, I get slammed up into the wall again. I’m literally getting pounded at both ends. “Ain’t I waited? Ain’t I been a good stallion and done everythin’ right? Didn’t I get you all excited and give you exactly what you wanted?”

I close my eyes and try to imagine what it will feel like to die. I imagine blue skies and warm breezes. I imagine never feeling stuck or restrained again. I’ve never wanted to die before. Living was way too awesome, but not anymore. Not after this. Death would be freedom. Death would mean I could just forget all of this.

“Well, I don’t want to wait anymore!” He huffs into my shoulder.

He releases the chokehold and I drop to the ground. I catch my breath and let out a weak and raspy scream for help. All thoughts of dying disappear. I have to fight. I know it.

He grabs me again and uses his huge hoof to force my shoulders forward, My front legs buckle and my knees crash into the dirt. The dirt makes it more difficult to breathe than it already was. The leg around my barrel slides back and lifts my hips, so I’m muzzle down and rump up, just the way he wants me.

He slams forward again. Somehow it’s a whole new kind of pain. It feels like he shoved a knife deep inside me and is cutting me open. He just keeps shoving himself deeper and harder than before. I scream while he stabs me again, and again, and again.

I’m sobbing as I try weakly to fight back. It’s useless. I have nothing left to give, but I keep trying. I keep twisting. I keep screaming for him to stop. My wings keep twitching. None of it matters. None of it helps.

“Shut the fuck up and get rut, Dash,” he hisses at me. “Just take it like a good mare is supposed to.” Then he takes a mouthful of my mane and pulls hard, making me scream again. “Almost there,” he says proudly around the mouthful of my mane.

I want to vomit. I want to throw up and then I want to die.

#force and consequences #my ocs #rape #dark #tragic #mlp AU #dash #flame whipper #apple spector #non con #writing #writer #writers on tumblr #new story #original story #story

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