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Sister, Lover, Servant, Slave

There were more and more children in the Utopia nowadays. Indeed, the Equus Enclave housed a steadily-growing number of foals, thanks to their gender-balance being somewhat rectified by the steady influx of Eclipse's former soldiers that had started after the end of the civil war that originally drove the _rest_of the refugees to leave the Herdlands. Between these former soldiers - tired and battle-scarred but still formidable in appearance - and the young colts who had been mere foals when their parents carried them along on their desperate flight into the unknown, gradually coming of age and growing out of their gawky adolescence - more and more of the Equus mares who'd otherwise likely have sought to get their needs sated by taking on a position as a 'servant' in the Castle were instead settling down with a male of their own kind, and producing the next generation - Equus foals who had never seen the Herdlands, never known a life away from the protection of the awe-inspiring dragons.

Meanwhile, not too far away, the Rakshasa Enclave was, if anything, blossoming even more - it was still growing and expanding, with a dozen buildings constantly under construction as the Rakshasa sought to rebuild their shattered culture and recall their long-lost architectural mores. The jungle, all by itself, seemed like home to them - and their structures, be they wood, stone, or some combination thereof, were built around or in some cases in the trees, making the enclave's expansion rather easier than it otherwise might have been. This growth, of course, was necessitated by the_population's_ growth.

The Rakshasa knew well that they had been granted a reprieve from extinction in the 11th hour, and they were wasting no time taking advantage of it - a complex network of arranged marriages had been planned out to mix the blood of the surviving clans as thoroughly as possible, and the newlyweds were encouraged to reproduce swiftly and abundantly. Fertility-potions and aphrodisiacs were much in demand among the young Rakshasa couples, and combined with the race's long-ingrained instinct to try and 'fit into' the society that had adopted them, this had led to the collapse of most sexual taboos. As long as you were producing lots of healthy cubs, nobody would gainsay you on any other point. In the long term, that would likely have many interesting consequences, though in the short term, it mostly meant that a number of exceedingly depraved relationships could not only flourish, but also do so with relatively little need for secrecy.

But that was the enclaves. In the Castle, which had once been the entirety of the Dragon Utopia, things were a bit different. The dragons were breeding, of course - eagerly and passionately - but their inherent fertility was vanishingly low, and their hatchlings took a long time to grow up. Nor were they much like what the other races would consider 'children', being mostly instinct-driven beasts for the first couple of decades and then advancing rapidly towards a greater-than-human intellect after that point. Blacks were an exception there, but somewhat ironically - considering that the Utopia was about the only place where a newly-hatched Black would be welcomed rather than immediately ejected - no Blacks had been born there since the very first one that originally turned the Valley of Dragons into the Dragon Utopia.

And as for the various 'visitors' living in the Castle, be it short- or long-term, well... most of them had been invited there due to their mastery of some craft or scholastic discipline. A mastery that, by and large, had been achieved through an unerring focus - they had spent their lives studying, training, practicing, and finally honing their one area of expertise to a fine edge, leaving little time for romance or the pursuit of family. The Free Lovers had been founded as a result of this - along with the minor detail that the vast, vast majority of them were male - and they had proven an invaluable addition to the Utopia, keeping all the unattached men of the Castle content and focused, as well as very dedicated to proving their continued value to the Utopia as a whole. But the Free Lovers took precautions against unwanted pregnancies, of course.

Thus, there were only two children actually living in the Castle, and they therefore had no-one to play with but each other. Fortunately, they got along quite well...

When she was young, she'd genuinely believed that Jet was her brother, and she was pretty sure he'd been of a like mind for a while. They'd played together, bathed together, occasionally had screaming fights with each other, then made up and became best of friends again - all in all, they had been as close as siblings can be. Indeed, neither of them could remember a time when it hadn't been that way. They'd both cried through the night when they were moved out of the crib they once shared and been given separate beds. Then she'd gotten her sobbing under control, and laid there in the darkness for a bit, listening to the pillow-muffled crying from his bed. Finally, she'd quietly rolled out of bed and shuffled over there, slipping under the covers and embracing him. He'd stopped crying, and soon, they were both asleep.

It was years ago now, but she still remembered it vividly - along with the next morning. Her mommy had been angry, of course. She'd known that would be the case when she slipped out of her bed. But Jet had stepped in between them just as her mom has lifted her finger to begin lecturing her. "I wuz cryin', tha's why she did it!" He declared, sticking out his trembling lower lip to glare up at the mare that he, at that point, called 'mommy' just as readily as he did auntie Anitra. "So's my fault!" Even back then, she'd been half a head taller than him, but that didn't stop him from stepping up to protect her - he was a boy, after all, and she was a_girl_.

Auntie Anitra had stepped in then, putting a hand on her mommy's shoulder. "Guess they just aren't quite ready to sleep apart yet..." she'd said soothingly. "We'll give it some more time and try it again later." That later had yet to come. The bed they shared was bigger, now, but they still shared it. Parting them had been attempted a couple of more times, and while there'd been less crying, it still hadn't been successful - Jet had just gotten stubborn, and stomped his foot. "I don't wanna sleep without Mel!" he declared. "I don't sleep well that way. Why can't we just keep sleeping together?" And that had been it.

Mel smiled at the memories as she darted through the cavernous corridors of the castle, her hooves swift and sure, familiar with both he surface and the path she was taking. It had been an odd way to grow up, she admitted - lots of initial misconception. It had taken a while for them to realize that siblings normally weren't of two entirely different races, and that one also generally didn't grow significantly faster than the other. Even once they were old enough to understand that, though, they'd just figured that they were_half_-siblings. That made perfect sense for a long time. After all, Jet's parents were auntie Anitra and Lord Blake, and Lord Blake also spent a lot of time having sex with her mommy, so... right?

Well, no. In truth, there was no blood between them - something that had been a rather bitter realization for both children. But her mommy had calmed her concerns somewhat, at the time. "The Master gave you to me, merely in a slightly different way than a stallion might normally give a foal to a mare. Do not concern yourself with who might have contributed the seed of your being, for in truth, in a way, it was Lord Blake. So by all means, give to him the respect your father would be due." She still didn't quite understand what mommy meant by that - certainly she knew that she couldn't have the same playful relationship with Lord Blake that Jet did, at least partially because her mommy insisted that she_always_ refer to him as Lord Blake, even in her own mind. She was pretty sure she'd called him 'daddy' when she was young, but... well, they'd both believed a lot of silly things when they were young. Why, for a while, Jet was convinced that he'd grow up to be a mighty, black-scaled dragon just like his father! But, such silly notions had to be discarded when one grew up. She wasn't a baby anymore, and neither was he - why, they were both seven by now!

Puffing her chest out a bit at her own obvious maturity, she slowed her pace and looked around. A green dragon was disappearing around a corner a ways ahead. Behind her, a blue was emerging from his room, but he turned off in the other direction. Nobody was watching. And nobody had yet moved the stack of boards that leaned so casually against the old barrel in the corner over there. Well, who would? For the dragons, such small items were almost literally beneath notice, and few others ever came here - and the enchantments that kept the hallways free of dust and cobwebs naturally ignored such objects, unable to distinguish between useful objects and piles of waste-wood. With a quick run-up, she dashed up the boards, jumped, and grabbed the bottom of the ventilation-slit right above it. Slits like that could be found all over the castle - they circulated pleasantly temperate air through the whole thing, and glowed with a constant, ambient light. Most people who passed beneath them didn't spare them a second thought or a first glance.

But Mel and Jet had, when they'd been exploring the castle, a couple of years ago. She'd had to boost him up, and then he'd reached down to help her the last bit of the way up as she jumped, but they'd made it even so. It was easier now, of course - they weren't little kids anymore! Which, unfortunately, also meant that sliding sideways through the slit was a bit more challenging, at least for her - her chest had started to get a bit wider near the top, showing the beginning of breasts that might one day, many years from now, equal her mommy's impressive set. For now, though, they merely made her tunic scrape unpleasantly along the rough stonework as she disappeared deeper into the slit.

Fortunately, it wasn't very deep - after just a couple of yards, it widened into a spherical room, in the center of which a ball of incandescent light hung silently. She shielded her eyes from it with a practiced motion as she made her way around the periphery of the room, feeling the breeze ruffle her coat as she did. On the other side of the ball of light, a wall of strange, unnatural shadow waited. It had taken quite a few dares in both directions before Jet, eager as ever to show that he was the boy, had finally stuck his hand into it... and found that it did nothing at all.

By now, she didn't even flinch as she stepped through it. On the other side, the Secret Base waited. A wide nook in the castle's rampart, with its walls slanting inwards, designed to catch the breeze and send it through the slit into the corridors beyond. An overhanging roof right above shaded it from the sun, and the strange veil of shadows shaded it from the light of the glowing ball behind it. Why that veil had been put there, neither of them could hazard a guess, but it certainly make their secret base much more pleasant than it otherwise might have been!

He was there already, of course, as she'd expected. Sitting on the edge, dangling his feet, watching the incredible diorama laid out before them. The sapphire-blue crater-lake spreading out like a mirror, the rising rim of the crater-edge, dotted with vegetation, white sand beaches and dragon-dens. To the left, the main bridge could be seen - heavily trafficked at this hour, as various Equus workers and servants headed home towards their enclave, along with a fair number of donkey-trains returning to the Caravansary beneath the crater.

"Hey Jet!" She called cheerfully as she sat down behind him, on the old mattress they'd smuggled in there a while back. He waved over his shoulder but didn't say anything. "...you shouldn't sit on the edge like that, y'know..." she ventured next, worrying that he might be angry with her for being a bit late today. He'd been a bit moody for a while now. "Why not?" he asked, with a definite note of surliness in his voice. His unkempt birds-nest of jet-black hair ruffled in the breeze. "Well, what'll I tell auntie Anitra or Lord Blake if you fall out?" She didn't see any reason to mention just how far down it was from here. They were both well aware of that.

Sighing, Jet scooted back from the edge, and sat down on the edge of the mattress instead... still seemingly trying to keep his back turned. Well, she was familiar with Jet's moods by now. Rolling up to her knees, she leaned forwards and embraced him from behind, resting her head next to his. She was just about to mumble and apology for her tardiness, when he preempted her. "I wish you could call him 'daddy' like I do..." he said, sounding dejected. She sighed. "Yeah, I kinda' do too. It's a bit unfair, I think. First mommy tells me that Lord Blake might as well be my father, but then_she tells me that I need to be 'more aware' of the 'difference in status'... actually, she's been telling me that I need to start getting used to the idea of calling _you 'Young Lord Jet' too. That's why I was late - she was lecturing me."

She'd been hoping to at least draw a laugh from him at the absurdity of that idea, but instead he just seemed to shrink into her embrace a bit more. She was a solid head taller than him by now, so there was a fair bit of embrace to shrink into, at least. "What's wrong?" She finally ventured. He didn't reply for a few seconds, instead just scowling out at the marvelous view. Finally, he grunted. "I overheard mom and auntie Melora talking. They wanna try getting us to sleep in separate beds again soon. They said it was getting 'silly', us sleeping together at this age."

She sighed, while his hand rose from his lap to grip her arm fiercely enough to make her wince a bit. Even though she was a head taller than him, he was actually stronger than her, and still had a somewhat shaky grasp on how to control the draconic strength he'd inherited from his father. Not that the occasional breakages that resulted from this seemed to do anything but amuse and delight said father, of course. Ignoring the vise-like grip, she pondered his words for a moment. "Guess it's been almost a year since last time, huh?" She finally said, noncommittally. "We shouldn't be surprised they'd try again by now, I suppose." Honestly, she wouldn't mind having her own bed by now. Sleeping close together with Jet, listening to his breathing and feeling him twitch in his sleep, was very calming... but she couldn't deny that their mothers had a point about how silly it was getting. Even Jet had stopped sleeping with that old stuffed toy horse a while back.

But it was pretty clear that he felt otherwise, and she was pretty sure that he wouldn't respond well if she voiced any kind of_agreement_ with their mothers in this matter. "But I don't_wanna_ sleep without you!" He exclaimed, confirming her assumption as he shook his head fiercely, tickling her chin with his hair. "Well... they gave up all the other times. Maybe they will again?" She ventured, but Jet just grimaced. "Last time I cried all night. It was really tiring. I don't wanna have to do that again. Besides, I'm a big boy now, so I shouldn't cry." This gave her some pause. She well remembered last time - he had, indeed, been sobbing clear through the night. She hadn't slept either, but she also hadn't joined him that time. Her mommy had been_very_ clear that she was not to do so. Still, seeing both of them fatigued and listless the next morning, bags under her eyes and red rims to Jet's, they'd both capitulated and declared "Not yet, I suppose..." with a shared sigh. Now, however, she found herself wondering if Jet - who was usually so fearless when it came to squeezing through narrow passages and climbing around on high ledges when they explored the castle - had truly been so inconsolable that night, or if he had in fact _deliberately_cried for hours just to win another reprieve.

Still, how could she put it... she didn't want to lie to him, after all. "I love sleeping with you too, Jet..." she finally said, after a minute's careful thought. "And I'd be sad if we couldn't do it anymore. But... why is it that important to you? I mean, we spend most of the day together anyway..." She braced herself, just in case she had messed it up and he was about to push her away with tears in his eyes and an accusation on his lips. Instead, however, he just drew in a shuddering breath and relaxed his iron grip on her arm. "I love sleeping with you too, Mel... 'm glad you like it too. And I just... don't want us to get any further apart."

There wasn't much she could say to that. She wanted to say "We won't, I promise!" - it wasn't as if she didn't understand where he was coming from, after all. Indeed, thinking back, his occasional moodiness and temper had started when he finally figured out that they weren't really siblings. She'd caught on a while sooner, but hadn't said anything to him. Hadn't really wanted to think about it herself, even. It seemed like he'd never really gotten over it, though. Perhaps he felt that this revelation had created a distance between them that hadn't been there before, and feared it growing.

And the damned thing was, he was right. That's why she couldn't give him the reassurance he craved - she'd be lying. She understood now, after all. Her mommy had explained it. Just today, even, she'd made it clear. "You may have grown up as siblings, Mel, but there is a key difference between you and Young Master Jet..." her mother had reminded her as they rested after their daily regimen of physical training. "He is of the noblest blood imaginable - that of Lady Anitra and the Master himself, Lord Blake! A power you cannot even imagine flows through his veins, and he has a grand destiny before him. You, however, are my_daughter - the daughter of a servant. A trusted and... perhaps even_loved servant, but a servant still. One day, if you can win the Master's approval, you will step into my hoofprints and serve him as I do. If Young Master Jet is still here at that point, you'll likely serve him as well. That is your destiny. I know there is a strong bond between the two of you, but it cannot remain a bond of siblings forever - it will have to become the bond between master and servant. Best get used to the thought, my girl..."

"So I'll... serve them the way you serve Lord Blake?" She'd queried, curious as always about the apparently quite clear plan her mother had for her future. Melora had nodded firmly. "Including the, uhh, sex stuff?" She'd then asked tentatively. It seemed an obvious question, seeing as that did seem to be what her mother did for Lord Blake most of the time. Sure, there was a bunch of cleaning and running errands and whatnot too, but... mostly it was sex, both the kind where Lord Blake penetrated her in various ways, and the kind where he tortured her in various ways. Both, apparently, were 'sex', just rather different variants of it, which had confused her for a long time.

Sex was a strange topic, both she and Jet agreed. It was all around them - auntie Anitra, auntie Direza, Lord Blake and her mommy were always doing sex-things to each other in various configurations, and sometimes there were visitors and they'd either be told to go play in their room or to head out into the Castle to explore. Sometimes, though, they'd watched through a crack in the door, be it the one to their room or the one to the chambers themselves, and had confirmed that - just as they'd suspected - the visitors were there to do sex-things with one or more members of the family.

But as to the nature of this apparently highly varied activity, the adults were annoyingly dismissive. "Don't worry about it, you'll understand when you're older..." they just said. "It'll all make sense to you then." Which made sense, sort of - adults DID do a lot of incomprehensible things that presumably only adults understood, after all. But it wasn't a very satisfying explanation, especially considering how large a role it seemed to play for all of them. Not just their parents and other relatives, either - their frequent explorations of the castle had led the kids to run across a great many dragons mating in various out-of-the-way spots, as well as occasionally running into a strange dragoness covered in something inky-black, who always seemed to either be in the middle of sex-things or fresh out of them.

This time, however, had been little different. Her mother had just chuckled and replied "Yes, including the sex-things, but you shouldn't concern yourself with that yet. You're still a bit too young to start practicing for that! So for now, focus on getting into shape and learning how to take care of the other duties of the calling." She had thought, however, that there was a slight edge to her mother's chuckle, a sort of veiled annoyance that didn't seem to be directed at her. But, either way, the topic had once again been dodged.

And so, all she could say in reply to Jet's fears was, "Neither do I." Which was true - she didn't want them to grow apart, she was just starting to grasp the fact that they'd have to do so anyway. She felt Jet suddenly stiffen in her arms, and winced. He was no fool - sometimes, she could slip lies of omission past him, but this time, he seemed to have caught on to what she _wasn't_saying. She opened her mouth, but couldn't think of anything to say. Then, suddenly she felt her arms be pulled apart as Jet jumped to his feet and spun around.

Before she could react, he pounced on her, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her back, down on the mattress. There were tears in his eyes, she could now see as she rolled back with the grapple. Her arms twitched with surprise, but she quickly suppressed the instinct to fight back - strong as he was, his smaller size meant that she could probably push him off if she tried, but that'd send him tumbling back towards the edge. This wasn't a place for roughhousing - they'd both agreed on that when they made it their secret base. Besides, if they wanted to wrestle, there were places for that, like the dojo where they'd both been getting combat-training for the past couple of years.

So she just lay there, looking up at his tear-stained face - still soft with youth, but already showing signs of growing into the visage of 'a real handsome lad', as his mother tended to lovingly put it. She could feel his weight on top of her, on her chest and belly - it didn't feel uncomfortable, in fact it was kind of nice. His hands were tight around her shoulders, gripping them firmly, but not so strongly that it was painful. "Jet..." she tried to say, though she really didn't know how to continue.

"Do you think your mom would ever leave my dad?" Jet instead asked, with remarkable intensity for being such a silly question. She blinked in confusion for a moment, before answering. "Of course not. I can't even imagine what she'd do if she wasn't serving Lord Blake. I don't think she can either." Jet nodded, his eyes narrowing as his face set itself into an expression of determination that looked incredibly adorable on his youthful face. "Then, I'll make sure you never leave me either!" He dramatically declared as he pushed himself up so that he was sitting astride her waist.

"I won't, Jet! Um... what do you mean?" She asked, still feeling rather off-balance. Of course she wasn't going to leave him... she just might eventually wind up as more of a servant than a sister to him. Which was another of those things that she knew better than to say out loud. Jet, meanwhile, looked entirely undeterred by her statement as he pulled off the simple tunic he wore, and then started fumbling with his simple, rope-belted trousers. He had fancy clothes, like auntie Anitra's or auntie Direza's, and he sometimes wore them for special occasions or visits, but for castle exploration, simple, easily-cleaned clothes were preferred.

_ Now shirtless, Jet threw open his arms. "I'll wrestle you into submission!" He declared. "Then you can't leave me!" After rolling safely away from the sheer drop, they thus proceeded to have a drag-out, no-holds-barred wrestling-match, where Jet's superhuman strength proved more than a match for Mel's larger body and reach, ultimately catching her in a textbook submission-hold and forcing her to cry uncle. _

In the nearby hallway, a passing dragon paused in confusion, hearing what sounded like a drawn-out scream of _ surrender _. Looking around, his eyes fell on the source - one of the glowing ventilation-slits. "Just the wind, huh? Gotta get my mind out of the gutter..." he chuckled to himself as he continued on his path.

_ After being beaten, Mel promised to stay with Jet, and they both decided to keep practicing their wrestling-moves. "We have to keep it secret, though - our parents would probably say that we're too young for the more advanced pins!" Jet reminded her. _

With that, though, the flood-gates had been opened. Neither one of them were inclined to forget that evening, when they sat _ half- naked together on the ledge of their Secret Base, looking out across the sapphire lake with suddenly more mature eyes, letting the warm breeze dry their sweaty skin. They both knew that they'd ventured into a dangerously grown-up territory - and _enjoyed it. It didn't even need to be said - they both knew that they'd want to do it again. Suddenly, the constant _ wrestling _ of the grown-ups they lived with - previously largely ignored as just 'weird grown-up stuff' - took on a new meaning. As did the times when they were politely but firmly asked to remove themselves from the spacious Champion's Quarters, to 'go play' in their room or outside.

It wasn't as if they hadn't known, for quite some time, what usually went on at those times. Either some grown-up guest was visiting and they would _ wrestle _ with the visitor, OR it would just be the usual four grown-ups doing some_extra_-_ dramatic _ _ wrestling _ that they apparently didn't want an audience for. Jet and Mel had peeped at the door for a bit once or twice in the past, but then quickly lost interest when they realized it was just 'more grown-up stuff' and moved on to their own amusements.

Now, though, they were both paying a lot more attention to those events, as well as the daily array of _ wrestling _ that their family was always getting involved in. They picked up ideas and inspiration, while carefully trying not to_appear_ too interested - and along the way, updated their vocabulary to something suitably 'grown-up'. _ After all, adults knew how to use words like 'jobber' and 'babyface' or even 'kayfabe'. _Using those words, awkward though they felt in their mouths at first, made their regular forays into the world of _ wrestling _feel a lot more proper and mature, they both agreed.

And such forays soon became frequent. They both had lessons nearly every day, but the grown-ups always made sure they had the late afternoons free to run and play - but their past diversions, of exploring, climbing, ball-games and people-watching, no longer held the same appeal they once had. So instead, every day, they'd sneak off somewhere and _ wrestle _, to use the proper, adult word for it. The Secret Base was a favorite place, of course, but far from the only one - during years of exploring, they'd found plenty of hidden nooks and crannies in the vast castle where the two of them could conceal themselves in reasonable privacy as they tried out their latest batch of 'ideas' culled from the grown-ups' constant activities.

Jet was the one who took the lead every time, of course - who chose how much time they'd spend trying out new stuff (some of which was bound to be a dud, or at least too confusing to be really fun), and how much they would be spend on the reliable old _ wrestling-moves _that they could both enjoy over and over. Mel simply went along with whatever he said, both recognizing that this was what she was 'supposed' to do - based on her mom and auntie Direza's example - and finding that things tended to be more pleasurable that way.

She was a bit worried, honestly, that Jet thought he had to keep doing it, _ wrestling with _ her every day just like his dad _ wrestled with _ her mom every day, in order to make sure that she wouldn't 'leave' him. But on the other hand, he _was_clearly enjoying it just as much as she was - and even though she felt a touch guilty about just letting him do all the hard work of deciding what to do, he also seemed to take to it quite well, growing steadily more assertive.

Indeed, when - around a week after their first time together - auntie Anitra and her mom got them together and told them it was time they started sleeping in their own beds, for real this time, he hadn't just moped and complained like in the past. Instead, he'd put his foot down - quite literally, and crossed his arms in stubborn determination. "Mebbe I can sleep without Mel, but I don' wanna!_And why should I? Dad still sleeps with you _and auntie Melora all the time, after all!" He'd declared, scowling at his mother. She seemed somewhat taken aback by this clear protestation, while behind her, Lord Blake laughed uproariously, clutching his head with one taloned claw. "He's got you there, love... good luck explaining the difference to him..." Lord Blake had said, between laughs. And just like that, with a resigned sigh, the issue had been dropped again... for now.

Emboldened by this victory, they found the next step both obvious and inevitable... after all, there were limits to what the two of them could do without more tools. The grown-ups, meanwhile, had a whole wall of 'grown-up toys' that they frequently drew upon for their various _ wrestling-matches , and while nabbing anything from _there would be entirely too noticeable, there was also a line of cupboards underneath it - stuffed with all manner of _ steel chairs, spandex outfits and props _ that wouldn't fit on the wall or just didn't look suitably stylish there. It wasn't too hard to find a time where grown-ups were all out and the two of them had the run of the chambers all by themselves - and then raid those cupboards for everything they needed.

With those purloined _ props _ stashed in their Secret Base, their range of possible activities expanded enormously, and Mel soon found herself with many more opportunities to explore her understanding of how unpleasant things could, under the right circumstances, become pleasurable. Jet was, initially, a bit hesitant to really explore those possibilities - but as the more tentative experiments met positive results, his courage grew... and with it, Mel's comprehension of how her mom could return from a session of _ garbage-wrestling _ at Lord Blake's claws with a dreamy, satisfied look on her face.

Only a couple of months after she'd lost her _ first match , she had her first ' dirty finish _'. _ Even though Jet won using a foreign object, tangling her in a chain while the referee was out cold, she still had to acknowledge his victory. _

It wasn't long after that event that Mel started to piece together a pattern - the best _ wrestling-matches _ were always the ones where she was tied up, chained up, or otherwise restrained... and preferably gagged as well. She wasn't really sure why, at first, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. She was not, by nature, a passive sort of person - if anything, she had what auntie Anitra sometimes called 'an abundance of exuberance', and her her mom tiredly called 'WAY too much energy..." Whenever Jet was floundering or hesitating during their _ wrestling-matches , she wanted to _help him, guide him, encourage him. She knew she shouldn't though, just from observing her mom and aunts, and the few times she accidentally went and did it anyway, it instantly soured the atmosphere. She understood why, too - any attempt to help just underscored how inexperienced Jet still was. It wasn't as if his formidable father ever needed help or encouragement, after all!

The bonds, however, removed that temptation - and because of that, they let her relax fully. With no need to maintain her self-restraint, she could just surrender to the tight grip of the ropes, cuffs, manacles and gag, safe in the knowledge that there was nothing she could do regardless. As a bonus, the bondage also removed the lingering guilt she felt at her own passive participation - letting Jet do all the hard work of _ throwing her to the mat and pinning her , and that on top of having to decide what they'd actually be _doing!_All while she could just lie back and let it happen, enjoying _ the boos of the crowd _ and other, less definable pleasures in the bargain. Well, when she was tied up properly, there was nothing she_could do anyway, and thus no guilt at her own inaction...

Still, she wasn't sure that alone could explain how being tied up could make just about anything arousing to her. Even when Jet wanted to experiment with the kind of weird stuff his mom got up to with auntie Direza all the time, which really wasn't her cup of tea, she'd still find herself enjoying it as long as she was properly restrained for the duration. _ Even getting chokeslammed or being on the receiving end of a peanut-butter sandwich could be good fun if she'd gotten tangled in a foreign object first. _ Without those bonds, it was just... kind of gross.

Well, it wasn't as if she couldn't enjoy herself quite a bit even without_ropes or chains being involved. Which was fortunate indeed, considering that they still shared a bed, thanks to Jet's intransigence - and while they _did have their own room, there was no way they could risk their purloined _ props in there. Nor could they do anything too exotic or complicated there - never mind anything _loud. But they could still _ practice basic holds _ with a side-order of pillow-biting. So they did - every night, before they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

Neither of them ever really brought up the question of why they were keeping their newly matured relationship secret. After all, the grown-ups did it all the time, so there was nothing really wrong with it, was there? And yet, despite Jet's frequent claims that he indeed_was_ a 'big boy' now - usually after he'd _ pinned her a few times in a row - both of them had a pretty clear sense that they really weren't _supposed to have reached this step quite yet. If their parents caught on, they'd probably Get In Trouble... again. They might even get shouted at! And they _desperately_didn't want that.

For over six months, they managed to maintain secrecy, despite daily experimentation. During that time, two more daring heists saw yet more _ props _ and tools added to their hidden stash - with their loot carefully picked from _ various foreign objects _they hadn't seen anyone use in ages, and the remainder artfully rearranged to conceal the fact that anything was missing at all. Many of these toys were _ blunt instruments _, suitably sized for auntie Direza - with those meant for her own mom still being simply too large and unwieldy to be stealthily transported.

These_ blunt instruments _ were, universally, larger than Jet's_ fists . Many of them had extra features, too. Still, if Jet was worried that she'd grow to prefer them to him, he never showed it - probably because his dad never _had been shy about using various _ large, heavy objects _ on her mom. Mind, even having sampled those _ props _, she still preferred his _ basic throws _ to all of them - _ it was more fun to get thrown and pinned with his raw strength alone. _

They_did_ still have their uses, however, she thought vaguely as one fine evening, _ she was tangled up in the ropes and a steel chain while a variety of props were used to beat her down. Despite her best techniques, it was an unfamiliar spot, and she wasn't managing to move her head just right for all the blows. _

It was becoming increasingly hard to focus - visually or mentally._ Blood was trickling down her forehead, and some of it wasn't fake _. She couldn't even really mount any surprise or fear when, peering numbly around Jet's waist, she saw her mom and auntie Anitra step onto the ledge. Oh, and there was Lord Blake too, or at least his head! Why was it that was a bad thing, again? She wasn't sure. But, oh, now they were shouting, and her mom was grabbing and shaking her... was she going to undo the restraints? The pain would become a lot less fun if she did that...

The restraints were, indeed, undone - though not until the _ various foreign objects _ had been removed. Apparently, she fell unconscious at some point during this process, and only woke up a short while later, in the care of her auntie Direza. Said auntie's magic proved able to fix the damage to her _ head _ just as easily as it had fixed the various skinned knees and bruises she'd occasionally staggered home with in the past, after a spot of exploration went ever-so-slightly wrong. As for the rest, the diagnosis was 'mental exhaustion and sensory overload', and nothing more than rest and something hot to drink was needed.

Once she'd started to recover, the first thing she thought to ask about wasn't "Are we in trouble?" - she was fairly confident that they were, and that her mom was just waiting for her to recuperate so that said trouble could be suitably realized. Rather, she asked "How did they find us?", prompting Direza to chuckle. She hadn't gone with them to the no-longer-secret base, but she had of course been well aware of what led up to it. "You kids aren't nearly as subtle as you think you are, you know..." she said with a bemused smile. "Persistent _ rumpled sheets from nighttime wrestling , _ props _ disappearing from the cupboards, a sudden increase in interest in what we grown-ups do together, and a distinct _lack of exploration-mishaps over the past several months... it was pretty clear that the two of you had found a new 'game' to busy yourself with."

The final piece of the puzzle, however, had arrived via Lord Blake, when he had - with some amusement - passed on a recent rumor to his wife. Apparently, one specific corner of the castle was considered to be haunted, after several dragons passing through there had claimed to hear moans, shrieks, and even screams from some undefinable place nearby. The general verdict was that it was just one of the ventilation-ducts producing the noise, but why would that_one particular_ duct do that? From there, it was just a matter of auntie Anitra and her mom jumping on Lord Blake's back and flying around the castle to the outside of the relevant spot, where Lord Blake had been able to cling to the wall long enough to his two passengers to dismount and catch their kids in the act.

This all left Mel feeling more than a little silly... but unfortunately, feeling stupid apparently didn't count as an exacerbating symptom of her condition, unless - as auntie Direza put it with a grin - the condition in question was 'being an adolescent'. Thus, she was soon shepherded shame-facedly into the main room of the chambers, where a rather red-eyed Jet was waiting, along with the entire rest of the family. The fact that her mom and auntie Anitra were dressed, presumably for their recent flight, added to the atmosphere of seriousness. Of course, auntie Anitra's gleaming, black-scaled armor always did make her look a lot more magnificent, making it much easier to remember her mom's suggestion that she start to think of her as Lady Anitra - though at least, her own mommy was just wearing the simple, casual dress she tended to throw on for marketplace errands and trips down to the Equus Enclave.

Either way, the Trouble could now, at last, ensue. She was somewhat surprised to discover that most of it was falling on Jet_shoulders, however - in the past, when the two of them had gotten into scrapes, she'd often been told that as the biggest and,_theoretically, more mature of the two of them, she should also be more responsible and thus know when to stop even if Jet didn't. Things started to make a bit more sense when she realized that what the grown-ups were most angry about wasn't that they'd started doing _ advanced wrestling-moves _ even though they still weren't really old enough for it, but rather that they'd stolen - or borrowed, as Jet still staunchly insisted, despite his rather thick voice - their parent's _ props , and then used them thoughtlessly and carelessly. "I know you were just imitating things you've seen me or your dad do, Jet..." his mother firmly said, one finger lifted. "...but you did so with no real idea of _how to do any of it. We can do these kinds of things safely because we're grown-ups, and have learned how. You haven't. Considering some of the things you borrowed, you could have seriously hurt Mel - even your auntie Direza's healing-powers have their limits!"

Jet didn't have an answer to any of it - other than his insistence that he hadn't stolen the _ props _ - and instead just sat there, staring at his feet and occasionally hiccuping while big, wet tears steadily drifted down his cheeks. The feeling of guilt that Mel had struggled with from the start - due to the way she seemed to be enjoying all the benefits of their new games with none of the work - came back tenfold as she realized that, at this rate, Jet would also bear the brunt of their parent's displeasure. So far, all she was really being chastised for was 'aiding and abetting' - that is, helping Jet with the 'borrowing' of the_ props _, and lying to her mother about where they went and what they were doing when they went 'out to play'.

Right now, though, she was neither tied up nor gagged - and as she fully recovered from her brush with unconsciousness, her energetic nature came to the forefront once again. "This isn't fair!" She finally interjected, jumping to her hooves. "In the first place, Jet only started... doing things with me because he was worried about the distance between us. So he figured that we could become closer together in the same way that Lord Blake became close to you,_mommy!" The last bit was thrown directly into her mother's teeth, with tears in her own eyes now, too. But she wasn't about to stop now that she'd built up a good head of steam! "And it worked, too! We may not really be blood-siblings, but... we're wrestling-rivals _! And that's just as good, right?"

Jet looked up, still red-eyed, as she basically threw herself between him and the mountain of parental displeasure that loomed before them. Her mother and both of her aunts looked rather astounded by her loud revelation, and for a moment, an awkward silence hung in the room as she struggled to think of something else to say now that she was standing up. Then, the silence was broken by a chuckling laugh as Lord Blake lifted his head, moving it over his wife's and looking down at her with curious eyes. She could feel herself quailing under the weight of his thoughtful gaze - it seemed like his mere presence had become even more awe-inspiring over the past few months somehow.

"Perhaps it is. It's certainly better than nothing..." Lord Blake finally said, answering the question she'd stated earlier. Then he turned his head back towards the two mothers that still sat underneath his serpentine neck. "I think they've suitably understood that what they did was wrong and also dangerous. It's time to move on to the real question - what do we do now that they've opened that particular door? It's not easy to close again, you know." And just like that, The Trouble was over... though the consequences, Mel realized as she slunk back to her seat with a sense of mixed relief, apparently remained to be determined.

Sitting down close enough to Jet that she could lean against him for a bit of comfort - even if, right at that moment, she didn't dare put her arm around him - she watched curiously as her fate was determined. Her first surprise was the rather sarcastic, raised-eyebrow look her mother was currently directing at auntie Anitra, soon prompting a sigh in response. "Yes, yes, you don't have to say it, Melora... you were right. Your daughter is growing up faster than I'd expected, and so's my son apparently."

Leaning back in her seat, Anitra then shrugged. "I guess that_part is easy to settle, at least. You may safely consider any objections I may have had to your daughter's training-schedule withdrawn." Melora nodded triumphantly, a broadening smile on her equine lips. "_Thank you, my lady... I think there's still plenty enough time to get her trained up though, especially since your son seems to have been putting her through her paces independently over the past few months." Sighing, Anitra set up a bit straighter, and let her eyes fall on Jet again - causing him to flinch slightly, despite his attention seemingly still being solidly focused on his feet. Mel, however, was watching the debate eagerly, and noticed that there was something... different_about her auntie Anitra's expression in that moment. The parental exasperation that had marked it before was giving way to something strangely _hungry.

It was only for a moment, however - then Anitra's face was once again wearing a suitably grave mask. "Jet... look at me, and listen up." She said, more gently than one might have expected. Reluctantly, he complied. She patted her lap and smiled. He swallowed, then got up and - with a slight nudge from Mel - staggered across the floor to sit on his mommy's lap, enfolded in a firm embrace as she explained the lay of the land to him. "I know you already understand that you did something bad, even if you didn't mean to..." she started, prompting another wince from him. "But it's important that you also understand exactly what_you did wrong, and _how, so you can do it right in the future."

She had her lecturing-voice on now, and Mel's ears perked up as she tried to make sure she caught it all despite auntie Anitra's voice being pitched low and gentle for Jet's benefit. She could already see where this was going - finally, they'd be getting a proper lecture on the grown-up world of _ wrestling ! "What you've been doing with Mel... that's called _ 'being the heel' _." Auntie Anitra indeed proceeded to explain. "It's the same thing I do with auntie Direza, and that your dad does with Melora. That's why you did it, right? You were just trying to imitate us. But the thing is, _ 'being the heel' _ comes with a _responsibility. When you _ dirty finish _ someone, they put their life and wellbeing in your hands - and you have to be conscious of that. Even though it may seem like you're just getting your way and can do whatever you like, you actually need to constantly keep their needs, limits and health in mind, no matter what else you're doing..."

The lecture continued for some time, with occasional interjections and clarifications from Melora, explaining to the young lad just what it meant to _ be a heel or a face . It was just as much a revelation for Mel as it was for the lecture's intended target, putting words to a lot of the vague feelings she'd been wrestling with - and confirming that she'd been right about poor Jet getting the short end of the stick, while she was fortunate enough that she could just lean back, relax, and let her body be used while the cheers _ stacked up. "...now, you're going to have to learn how to do things like that safely, both in the specific and the general..." the lecture concluded. "So a new subject just got added to your daily schedule."

This news generated a groan from Jet, while Mel hid a smile. Based on what had passed between her mom and auntie Anitra earlier, she was pretty sure that she now had a new training-regimen waiting for her too. Apparently, they'd both have even less free time from now on. "Now, I'll handle your training myself..." auntie Anitra continued, and once again, there seemed to be a strange edge to her voice which swiftly disappeared again as she carried on. "...and until you've proven your mastery of the topic to my satisfaction, there will be no more of this sneaking-around and playing with dangerous _ props _ in your 'Secret Base', understand?"

Jet reluctantly nodded, his lower lip trembling - then, after a moment's hesitation and a sigh, his mother hugged him again and pushed on. "What that means, young man, is that if you and Mel want to do anything more advanced than the basic stuff you've been doing in bed together so far, you do it right here, in these chambers, under adult supervision! And you won't be allowed to use any _ prop or weapon _ you haven't already proven your ability to use safely." In an instant, Jet's head rose up, and his eyes widened. "So... we can still..?" he asked breathlessly, and his mother flashed him a motherly smile as she poked his nose. "Of course you can, as long as you keep it safe. The two of you are _ rivals _, after all, so trying to force you apart would just be cruel. Besides, that'd just give you a reason to try and do it behind out backs again."

Lord Blake, meanwhile, nodded thoughtfully as his sharp, draconic eyes jumped from his son to Mel, who again found herself writhing a bit under that intense gaze. Then, he suddenly chuckled. "Actually, I have an idea..." he ventured, while his attention moved again. "Melora, my pet... I take it you still intend to train your daughter to be your eventual replacement, even knowing that it will ultimately be her choice whether or not to enter my service?" Mel glanced curiously at her mom. Her choice? She hadn't mentioned anything about that before...

Her mommy, however, nodded firmly. "Of course. Especially now that I'll finally be able to start training her properly!" She declared. It didn't sound like the whole 'choice' thing worried her overly. Chuckling, Lord Blake shrugged and moved his eyes back on_her_. "In that case, I have a suggestion... how about young Mel enter my son's service as his personal _ jobber _? Well, whenever she isn't busy with her schooling, anyway. It will give her a chance to try out that kind of life, and see what she thinks of it. That will also put to bed the issue of sleeping-arrangements - after all, if her _ partner _requires that she shares his bed, she is obliged to do so..."

Blinking in confusion, she tried to keep up. Her, as a '_ jobber ' to Jet... so, same as her mom was to Lord Blake? Which meant wrestling _ with him whenever he felt like it, which she'd pretty much been doing for months now anyway... and also just doing whatever he said, presumably, which might feel kind of funny since she usually took charge when they were exploring or playing other games. Not that they'd been doing much of that lately, she supposed...

The filly became suddenly aware that all the adults - and Jet too - were staring expectantly at her, Lord Blake first and foremost. Looming over the other grown-ups, he lowered his head to her level and peered at her with a raised eyebrow. "Well, young Mel? If you are waiting for your mother to decide for you, rest assured, she knows better than to say a word right now. To _ become somebody's jobber _ - be it mine or my son's - is your choice and your choice alone. It must be thus, for in doing so, you would be surrendering your right to choose for the duration, becoming sworn to obey your _ sparring-partner _'s command. As for duration... let's say until you come of age, shall we? At that point, you'll have to choose again..."

Her coming of age... well, for an Equus, that was at age 12, she knew. More than four years from now. That was a really long time... indeed, even as her mind churned, she could hear Lord Blake discuss with auntie Anitra if perhaps her servitude should be set at a shorter interval, since she was really 'too young' to enter into such a long-term arrangement. But she kind of understood why Lord Blake had suggested that kind of time-span. She was supposed to choose_whether to enter _his service once she came of age, wasn't she? And that would define the entire rest of her life. Agreeing to be Jet's _ jobber _ for a month or something, that just wouldn't compare. She needed to know if she really wanted to spend her life in servitude, just like her mom had.

"I'll do it!" she declared, her mind now made up, interrupting the ongoing discussion among the adults - a debate that her mother, noticeably, hadn't interjected in, instead keeping her eyes demurely lowered and her mouth closed. Now, however, they snapped up, and a smile spread across her lips. Lord Blake, too, chuckled, while Jet seemed equal parts confused and elated. "Very well, young Mel... now, get up from your seat, and kneel. Jet, my boy - get off your mother's lap, and go stand before her! She's about to swear herself into your service, so try to look suitably grave!"

Jet did his best, and so did she - despite the fact that kneeling really just barely brought her beneath his eye-level. Auntie Anitra presided over the short but heartfelt ceremony, standing between them with a hand on either shoulder, instructing them in what to say - though, she was the one doing most of the talking. "If you would have me, my Lord..." she intoned, prompted by auntie Anitra's whispers between each line. "...I will enter your service. I swear to _ help you practice your wrestling-moves whenever you need me to, no matter what pins or foreign object attacks you need to try out _."

Despite seeming slightly overwhelmed by this spiel, Jet bravely soldiered on with his own little part of the proceedings. "I will accept your oath, my _ jobber, and in return will make sure we don't go off-script ." Finally, the whole thing was sealed with a pair of clasped fists . It all felt very _adult, especially with the way Lord Blake and her mother were watching it so intently and quietly.

A lot of things changed that day, as her mother was quick to point out that same evening, when they were finally alone together. "I told you a while back that you needed to get used to the idea of using proper terms and titles for your betters..." her mom had said with a stern finger-wag. "Well, I hope you've done so, because from now on, there's no more 'auntie Anitra', and certainly_no more 'just plain Jet'. Though since you seemed to find the idea of calling him 'Young Lord Jet' so amusing, I'm sure you'll be glad to know _that isn't on the table anymore. You just swore to show him, personally, 'deference and respect', so your options now are 'Lord Jet', 'Milord', 'Sir', or just plain 'Master'. As for Lady Anitra, you will have to always keep in mind that she is your master's mother, not merely a close friend of _your_mother - hence, 'Lady Anitra' or 'Milady', not 'auntie'."

Terminology was only the start, though, as became clear when the practical training began the next day. Showing 'deference and respect' involved more than just using the right words, and while she'd started learning about how a servant should act already, those lessons were now accelerated. The combat-training she'd been spending more time on until then was actually rolled back a bit, meanwhile, to make time for more of her new training-regimen - the mastery of sex and submission. "Now, while I wouldn't say so in front of Young Lord Jet, since he definitely acted incautiously and put you in real danger with his attempts to act beyond his years, I was quite pleased to hear that you had, even unprompted, taken on the _ jobber's role _ in your relationship with him. Not that I'm surprised - you are my daughter, after all!" Her mother had explained, underscoring the last part with a warm smile and a tussling of her mane. "The fact that you were ready to pass out by the time we found you, however, makes it clear that you've still got much to learn! Poorly-managed though that scene was, you need to be able to take that level of punishment and more without flinching. To truly be a great submissive, you must be able to push through oceans of pleasure and pain alike in order to obey your Master's commands! Now, why don't you tell me exactly what you two have been getting up to, and which parts you enjoyed the most?"

Giving such a full account took a fair bit of time, and was more than a little mortifying, but she soldiered on - growing increasingly comfortable in her descriptions of the various 'scenes' she had played out with Jet over the past several months as her mom simply nodded calmly through most of them, occasionally asking inquisitive questions about how she'd felt during specific activities. "Very well, I think I know where to start then..." Her mom had declared at the end, nodding sagely. Mel felt a thrill as her mother then pulled out a loop of rope.

Firm hands, both stronger and far more experienced than Jet's, swiftly bent her over and thoroughly tied her up. Naked, on her knees, face to the ground, blindfolded, bit-gag between her teeth, hands behind her back, legs pulled apart, rough ropes criss-crossing her body, hugging her tightly. Just the position, and the sense of helplessness that came with it, excited her. There was no particular urge to giver her mom advice or try and help her, so perhaps those things hadn't been as big a factor as she'd thought, with Jet... no, Lord_Jet, she had to remember! Rather the ropes just seemed to relax her, reminding her that she didn't need to worry about anything - she didn't need to _do anything, and could simply enjoy whatever came next.

What came next, however, proved to be her tail being painfully pulled up and something huge, hard and oily-slick poking insistently against the tiny hole beneath it. Very insistently, very forcefully... and ultimately successfully, as the rope prevented her from flinching away from it in any way, and the force behind it was enormous. It was agonizing - her sphincter felt like it was being torn apart, and her insides felt little better. The intrusion was vastly, immeasurably bigger than Lord Jet's cock, and indeed far bigger than any of the dildos he'd used on her so far... but even through the pain, she was vaguely aware that it was something silky-soft yet rock-hard that pulsated with a warm life of its own.

Her suspicion about its nature was confirmed when her mother bent over her, placing a heavy hand on her upper back and pushing her harder into the mat of their private training-room. "Pleasure and pain in one, my dear..." her mom calmly declared as she began to shift her hips, pushing her agonizingly thick cock deeper and deeper, until she could feel the blunt tip push against something tough and unyielding inside her. "Take them both, and see how long you can last. Your goal is to stay conscious long enough for me to cum, but I would be greatly surprised if you could manage it already."

As her mother began to fuck her tailhole with long, smooth, powerful strokes, hammering each thrust home with a force that seemed to send a shockwave up through the rest of her body, it was initially hard for Mel to find the 'pleasure' in it. Still, as she unconsciously struggled with her unyielding bonds, she couldn't deny that the sense of restraint they brought was indeed turning the pain radiating from her ass - particularly the ring of throbbing agony that was her sphincter - into fodder for the familiar sense of tension in her gut, the foundation of an orgasm.

Gradually, though, as the pounding thrusts continued, the pleasure began to leak in through the cracks. The sense that what was now filling her ass - stretching it to the breaking-point - was a real, living, throbbing, veiny cock, and not just some static dildo. The sensation of being filled to capacity. The feeling of 'intrusion' that she'd noticed the very first time she did anal, and already learned to enjoy. The shockwaves that each thrust sent down through her increasingly wet pussy. And of course, the helplessness - the totality of her restraints. She couldn't move, couldn't see, couldn't fight back, couldn't speak - only moan and cry through the gag. There was no escape from her mother's arm-sized cock smashing its way into her tight ass - so she might as well enjoy it!

So she came, panting around the gag, shuddering in her bond. Then she did it again, a few minutes later. Or maybe it was a few hours? Blindfolded and restrained, caught in a maelstrom of pain and pleasure, torment and ecstasy, she was swiftly losing any sense of time. She was only vaguely aware of her bladder emptying itself around the time of her third orgasm, splashing wet fluid across her thighs in time with the endless, unyielding pounding. She wasn't struggling against the ropes anymore, not even during the climax - she was completely relaxed, her body soft and pliable, her breathing slow and steady, only quickening briefly during each orgasm.

She stopped counting the climaxes, too. Why bother? She would cum as many times as she'd cum. The pain and the pleasure - which was all just one big mish-mash of ecstasy by now - would continue for as long as it continued. If the rest of her life passed like this - bound, blinded, gagged, immobile, used, wracked with pain and drowning in pleasure, she would be perfectly happy with that. Then, after some indeterminable period of time, the darkness inside the blindfold became a little bit darker, and everything faded away...

When she came to, she was lying with her head on her mother's lap, her restraints removed, and a pleasantly cool tingling somewhere between her pert buttocks. "Quite an impressive performance, my dear... a chip off the old block indeed." Her mother reassured her with a gentle smile, making it clear that she was not at all disappointed. "Sorry I had to be so rough with you, filly - I needed to really test your limits, and also give you an important demonstration of why Jet really needs the training he's getting right now."

As it turned out, it hadn't just felt like her tail-hole was tearing - that was, in fact, exactly what had happened when her mother's cock had been forced inside it without any kind of preparation. Melora had expected this, however - and been prepared, with a special salve apparently devised for exactly that purpose, applied as soon as the session had ended. Mel was able to confirm, later, with a mirror, that her sphincter indeed had healed up swiftly and neatly, leaving naught but a slight discoloration at the top of the ring to show that it ever happened. "I did real damage, then - and if I hadn't been specifically prepared to counter it, that damage would have been far more permanent. Despite this, you were enjoying that pain within minutes, cumming repeatedly even as your torn sphincter dripped blood between your legs."

This rather dramatic declaration was underscored by the sight of the folded towel that had been strategically placed between her knees before everything started - now stained yellow and red by her blood and urine. The sight made her wince, despite the fact that the salve had numbed any lingering pain in her rear by now. Patting her on the head, her mother sighed. "It's something you need to keep in mind - your Master hopefully will too, but you also have a duty to keep yourself in a fit shape to serve him, by considering your own limitations."

"You and I are alike in this..." she explained, still stroking her daughter's head. "We find pleasure in pain. But pain, at its roots, is meant as a warning - our bodies' way of telling us that something is wrong, that it is being damaged. Because we enjoy it, that warning all too often falls on deaf ears. You now know, first-hand, that even real and serious damage to your body won't stop you from enjoying that pain - hopefully, that will help you keep in mind your limitations in the future!" The general training-regimen, she was then reassured, wouldn't be _quite_this rough.

Indeed, it wasn't. The next time she found herself impaled on her mother's long, hard shaft, getting steadily pounded into oblivion, it was only after spending more than ten minutes having her ass gradually stretched open, step-by-step, using a gradual escalation of fingers, dildos and plugs to maintain a steady pressure on her sphincter as it loosened. Every training-session included such an exercise, however - as part of her more physical training. It was meant to make her tail-hole more elastic and thus more capable of stretching without tearing in the future, as well as _deepening_the orifice.

"You need to get used to thinking of this as your _primary_orifice..." her mother explained while once again forcefully pounding her ass into oblivion. "It has far more potential than your pussy, especially while you're young. Through regular penetration, your guts will be straightened and rearranged - when I first took you there, I wasn't able to get much more than half my shaft inside. Now, after just a week of regular exercise, I've been able to add another half-inch to that. Eventually, my entire length will fit inside you - until then, we'll continue the daily practice."

Through all of those sessions, though, her mother never came. Once Mel's own endurance had risen suitably, the duration of the anal exercise simply shifted from 'until unconsciousness' to 'a solid hour'. Eventually, she asked her mom about how she could go that long without ever actually reaching an orgasm, and received a chuckling reply and a ruffled mane. "Silly girl... have you forgotten that you and I are like two peas in a pod? Without pain to temper it, the pleasure of a tight hole around my cock seems dull and bland to me. The ring that grants me the tool also keeps it hard regardless, so I have no particular need to enjoy it. The game, I'm afraid, is thus rather badly rigged against you..."

Of course, that 'game' was far from the only point on her newly expanded syllabus. It was the only permanent fixture, but depending on the day, she also found herself practicing oral skills - for males and females alike, rimjobs included; palate-hardening, such as piss-drinking, sweat-licking and ass-to-mouth without the benefit of an enema beforehand; masturbation, with fingers, dildo, or a pain-inducing, spike-lined dildo; kissing-practice; pain-threshold exercises, with and without a task she needed to continue fulfilling even under torture; presentation, specifically showing off her body and actions to an audience...

That last one wound up spilling over into the rest of her days, however. "You need to grow accustomed to being seen as a sex-object, filly... since you are a sex-object now, after all." her mother had explained as she helped her 'get dressed' in her new 'outfit'. It consisted, in its entirety, of: A pair of black fishnet stockings, specifically designed to fit her hooves; A lacy black garter-belt, which kept the stockings in place; Sheer, black, fingerless lace gloves that reached to her elbow; A black satin choker, with a small cameo bearing an engraved image of her Master, Lord Jet, looking rather more noble and composed than he tended to in real life. And, finally, two black bows - one for her ponytail, one for her just plain tail.

Mel was not unaccustomed to running around naked. Indeed, it had taken the grown-ups some doing to convince her of the necessity of wearing a tunic in the first place. This get-up, though, made her blush. It left her far more bare than simply being naked, she felt - with the garter-belt drawing specific attention to her lack of underwear, while the bow on her tail forced it to always be a bit lifted, drawing the eye to what hid underneath it. The gloves and the choker, meanwhile, drew attention to her bare chest, where her still-petite breasts were continuing to steadily grow.

It wasn't just her imagination, either. Her mother had made clear that she was to wear her new 'uniform' at all times, save in bed or if her Master - Jet - specifically ordered her to remove some part of it. Mind, if she visited the parts of the castle where humans and their ilk lived and worked, she was directed to wear a dress of sorts with it - a frilly thing of satin and lace that rather matched the rest, featuring a plunging neckline, fabric thin enough to clearly show her nipples whenever they grew hard, a skirt that didn't even reach her knees, and a slit in the back for her tail that basically left her ass-crack covered solely by said tail. Not only was it rather erotic all by itself, its very existence also drove home the fact that she got undressed every time she returned home, leaving her not merely nude but naked.

Even when she was wearing the dress, at the marketplace or in the corridors around the chambers that had been converted into human-sized habitation-blocks, she could feel the way people looked at her, noticed her. The eyes of nearly every man - and a few of the women - would inevitably trace the edge of her short skirt, the slit in the back, and the neckline that showed off the edge of her steadily-growing breasts. They'd see her not as a sometimes-annoying, sometimes cute 'kid', to be chuckled at, shouted at, or more likely just ignored - but rather, a woman, to be desired and fantasized about.

And back in the chambers she called home, without the dress... well, Jet had been riveted by the outfit from the first time he saw it, and certainly hadn't shown any particular desire to order her out of it. Lady Anitra and even auntie Direza looked at her differently now, more like the way they looked at her mother. Even Lord Blake seemed to notice her in a new way, and every time she felt his large, reptilian eyes rest on her exposed body, she found herself shivering in a way that had nothing to do with feeling cold...

That sensation was redoubled if, rather than simply being there, walking through the large common-room that also served as Lord Blake's bedchamber, she was currently tied up and shuddering in pain and pleasure as her Master tried out his most recent education on her eager body. The rules were clear, after all, that they could only do such things under adult supervision - and the grown-ups watched, all right. Often while doing their own things... if not at first, then inevitably after a short while.

_ Pinned to the mat by Jet's strength, limbs twisted painfully behind her, she could see Blake and Anitra practicing their own wrestling-moves while they watched their son practice his, and listened to the roar of the crowd - this, too, was part of the training, getting used to the audience. _

Jet squirmed in his seat as he waited for his first lesson in 'Being a_ Heel' _ to begin. He wasn't quite sure what to expect, especially considering the location. So far, most of his studying had been done in the large common-room, or in the padded training-rooms nearby when it came to physical exercises. This time, however, he'd been asked to step into a place he normally wasn't allowed - the small, private 'playroom' that his mother normally used for various_ wrestling-matches _ with auntie Direza and sometimes auntie Melora.

_ Soon, however, Anitra arrived and began to give him some solid pointers on both wrestling-moves, use of foreign objects, and the proper way to rile up the crowd, reminding him that it would be his job to draw heat rather than cheers. Soon, both his technique and his in-ring psychology started to improve. _

Between their daily training-regiment and spending most evenings testing their growing skills together in the common-room while the adults watched, it was perhaps no great surprise that by the time they found their way to their shared bed at day's end, neither of them tended to be in the mood for any _ more wrestling _. Instead, they'd mostly just cuddle and whisper about the day's events as they drifted off to sleep in each others arms. Well, unless Jet had neglected to properly empty his bladder before bedtime, in which case he'd _ have to interrupt the cuddling to run to the loo _.

This_ annoyed Mel since he'd invariably have cold feet when he returned to bed. _

Their occasional days off were likewise mostly free of_ wrestling-matches _. There were still corners of the vast Utopia Castle to explore, after all - helped along by the fact that changes and alterations happened constantly, especially in the areas that had been retailored for humanoid habitation. Swimming in the lake below said castle was also always a pleasant way to spend some hours, and indeed had been a popular way for them to waste an afternoon since they first learned how to swim - the swimming-bangles they always wore were loaded with enough enchantments to keep them safe, and the newest ones could even teleport you directly to the Castle infirmary if you were in danger of drowning, so it was perfectly safe. On top of that, there was always a Silver or two lazing about in the water down there who could keep an eye on them, so their parents probably worried less about these outings than any of their old exploration.

A favorite activity, though - at least outside of the rainy season - was to pick up a packed lunch from the castle kitchens, and then cross the great bridge to the crater's rim, before making their way along it to a nice, shady spot where they could watch the ongoing construction-work down below. The site would one day become the Grand Bazaar of the Utopia, they'd been told, but for now it was just a mish-mash of columns, foundation-stones and sweaty, shouty workers laboring away under the hot sun. They'd get to watch casters - both human and dragons - move around vast foundation-stones with levitation-spells or carefully directed teams of golems. Sometimes there were marvelous fights as some of the architects and artisans working on the project disagreed about some detail of it, leading many intriguingly novel words to drift up through the air to their young ears.

Mel had to wear her dress for such outings, of course, which annoyed her a fair bit - though at least Jet had taken to wearing fancy-ish clothes to match, rather than the simple tunic and hose he'd previously favored. "I don' wanna look weird next to ya, you know?" He'd explained the first time he struggled into the tight black trousers and ruffled shirt - clothes suited for a young nobleman. "We should look like a matched pair, right? 'cuz we are!" Well, it probably helped with that decision that she was available to help him into said clothes every time he needed them. Her servitude wasn't purely _ jobbing _, after all - she'd also sworn to _ help him practice _, and while that was more symbolic than anything since they both still lived with their parents, she tried to do what she could - not just with getting him dressed in the morning and tying his neat and shiny black leather shoes, but also carrying his dishes out after dinner and scrubbing his back during their evening baths.

Likewise, when they went on their construction-watching outings, she was always the one who spread out the blanket, unpacked their lunch, poured the drinks, and so on... and inevitably, at some point, her services would be required _ for a quick bout _. Most of the time, it would just be Jet _ practicing a couple of quick pins on her. _

Sometimes, though, Jet would grow inspired and suggest _additional_amusements - like _ grabbing some random junk found nearby and experimenting with their utility as wrestling-props. _

One time, however, it nearly went a fair bit farther than that, driving home what her mom had meant about 'getting used to it' when she provided her daughter with her new outfit. In retrospect, Mel could easily tell that she'd laid the groundwork for it herself, of course. First she'd asked her mom during training, after another _ encounter with Jet's cold feet , if _her Master, Lord Blake, had ever given her any tasks she found unpleasant. Her mother had confessed that yes, it had happened, on a few occasions - and of course, this had roused Mel's curiosity, causing her to ask for specifics.

"Well, a few times in the past," her mother had reluctantly explained, "when the Master was out on a journey with Lady Anitra, he left me with orders to pleasure a number of his fellow dragons, on a daily basis, for the duration of his absence. It was rather exhausting, and while initially pleasurable on a purely visceral level, the combination of mounting fatigue and wear-and-tear on my orifices soon turned it into a tiresome chore indeed - and it was only towards the end that it grew painful enough to be satisfying in _that_regard. Still, I pushed through, eager to prove myself to my Master, and ultimately received praise for my performance upon his return - along with being rewarded with his personal attention! Well worth it, needless to say."

She'd then _ mentioned to _ Jet during the next pillow-talk session, when the topic turned to what they'd learned that day, _ that her mom had sometimes wrestled entire groups at once on Blake's prompting _ - albeit leaving out the reason why she'd asked her mom about that specific subject. In hindsight, it was obvious what would happen next - after all, Jet idolized his father, and the very spur of their current relationship had been his desire to emulate the relationship Lord Blake had to her mom, between the two of them. When a golden opportunity offered itself on their next day off, it was thus no real surprise that he leaped at it...

They'd finished eating their meal at their usual spot, in the shade of a small grove of hardy jungle-trees growing on the crater's rim, watching the ongoing construction, and Jet had already _ indulged in some after-dinner exercise by practicing several holds, pins and throws on her. _

As she relaxed in the shade, enjoying the _ post-exercise sweat evaporating from her coat, _ they both became aware that the ongoing construction-project was getting a lot closer to their hideout than before. A group of Equus laborers were clearing away rocks and chopping down trees nearby, making way for the side-road that would eventually lead to some kind of new, magical way to get down from the crater-rim to the Bazaar below. They were all grown Equus stallions with a few younger colts mixed in, all sweating as they carried out the heavy labor, dressed in little other than loin-cloths.

When Jet saw them he got a curious look in his eyes, leaning around the grove of trees that still hid them from the laborers, then pulling back with a widening grin. "I just got a fun idea, Mel!" He whispered to her, not that he likely needed to bother keeping his voice low considering the din that the workers were raising. "I want you to run over to those grown-ups, and _ challenge them all to a wrestling-match! _ If they chase you away, just run and hide in the trees and then sneak back here - it'll be a laugh!"

Freezing up, Mel eyed the workmen. There was at least a dozen of them, mostly full-grown, all heavily muscled. "Um... Sir... what if they_don't_ chase me away, then?" She asked, heart already pounding faster. Jet just shrugged. "Then you _ fight them , I guess? I doubt they're that much bigger than your mom, and you wrestle _ with her nearly every day anyway..." She hesitated for only a moment longer, then bowed her head and obediently rose from the blanket they'd been sitting on, brushing off her fancy black dress. In her mind she ran back through the chain of events that, in retrospect, had led here, cursing herself for not keeping her big mouth shut about her mother's past experiences with being ordered to _ fight _ others - but there was little else to do. She'd received her orders, and she'd sworn in front of_everybody_ to obey Jet's orders at all times.

Trying her best to muster some fraction of her usual energy-levels, she stepped out of the concealing foliage and walked up to the workers, trying all the way to convince herself that what she was about to do wasn't really weird and embarrassing. One of the Equus soon spotted her, wrinkled his equine brow, and poked the others - causing their work to falter as they paused to get a better look at her. The dress - almost as much as its more frequent absence- did tend to draw looks wherever she went, but here, now, in this situation, the scrutiny she attracted was far more intense.

"Hey... uh... guys?" She said, struggling to find the right words even as she gripped the hem of her dress tightly. "You... wanna have some fun with me?" Then, in accordance with her orders, she lifted her already rather short skirt, giving the suddenly wide-eyed stallions a good look at her tight young pussy. She could tell just from the way the breeze caressed it that it was dripping wet, visibly so - it'd gotten nice and juicy just a few minutes ago when Jet used it, and since she hadn't actually gotten off, the lubrication had continued to flow in idle expectation of an imminent resumption of sexytimes.

"Uhh... aren't you a bit too young to be making those kinds of propositions?" One of the stallions questioned, sounding a bit choked up. Before Mel could reply, however, one of the others interjected. "No way - look at that dress! Only the dragon-servants wear stuff like that - she must just be short." The first stallion - presumably the foreman of the work-crew, based on the way the rest seemed to look to him for guidance on this suddenly-developing situation - rubbed his chin. "Huh. That right, filly? You a servant up at the castle?" Blinking, Mel answered - automatically and truthfully. "Uh... yes? Yes I am - I serve Master Jet."

"Huh. Guess that's why I don't remember seein' such a short mare 'round the village... livin' up at the fancy castle with your 'Master', are ya?" A third stallion growled dismissively, only to get a scowl from one of the younger colts - notably the shortest of the work-gang. "You can't blame her for that if every Equus she meets makes a crack about her height or mistakes her for a foal..." he chided sharply, earning a few chuckles from the other nearby males. "I get it, I get it..." another stallion called, before that particular disagreement could escalate. "You've had your fill of dragon-dick, so now you're lookin' to get back to your roots with some good ol' horse-cock, ehh?"

A sudden hope sprang up in the mortified Mel as she slowly lowered her skirt again. This was going better than she'd feared. Maybe they_wouldn't_ chase her away, laughing at her for acting like a grown mare - or worse yet, shout at her for acting strange! At least some of them actually seemed... interested, and that last one had given her a perfect opening. They just needed one more nudge in the right direction... but how? Seduction wasn't among the skills she'd been tutored in so far.

Then, in a flash, she remembered her first time - how natural and right_it had felt when she got _ pinned by _ Jet. The way it had appealed to her instincts. Spinning around on the spot, she glanced coquettishly over her shoulder as she bent at the waist, sticking out her rump - and lifted her tail, causing her skirt to basically split open in the back, now showing both her pussy, her butt-cheeks,_and the, by now, well-practiced sphincter between them. "That's right, colts..." she bravely lied. "Now, how much longer are you gonna keep a mare waiting?"

Not very much longer at all, as it turned out. Their last misgivings melting in a fog of spiking lust, the stallions surged towards her while her heart began to beat faster and fresh lubrication dripped from between her slightly-spread legs. Then the advancing Equus stumbled to a halt, fresh surprise on their faces, while Mel herself nearly fell over in shock. Moving way faster than his still rather short legs should've been able to carry him, Jet had suddenly darted from his hiding-place and placed himself between Mel's inviting rear and the work-party's front-runner - the tall, muscular stallion who seemed to be the team's foreman.

"Don't touch my sister!" He shouted, arms stretched out to the side in a blocking pose. The stallion - who'd already built up a fair bit of inertia - skidded to a halt right in front of him, hooves creasing the loam underfoot and arms wheeling as he struggled to keep his balance instead of literally falling on top of this suddenly-appeared child. Once he'd finally regained his balance, he glared down at Jet in more confusion than anger. "Don't _do_that kid, you could've..." he started as he reached down to grab the young lad, a child of obviously no more than 8 years by the shoulder and shake him for being so reckless.

He'd intended to finish the sentence with "...gotten hurt", but he didn't get the chance. Just as his hand was about to touch the boy's shoulder, the tiny lad seemed to blur. Jet had spent a lot of time recently learning the sexual arts... but that didn't mean he'd slacked off on his combat-training. Half-panicked at seeing his 'great joke' develop in such an unexpected direction, feeling threatened by the scowling Equus stallion looming above him, three times his height and probably ten times his mass, he reacted instinctively to the perceived attack that was the attempted shoulder-grab.

First, a quick step forwards, ensuring that all of his mass - however little there was of it - was behind his shoulder when he swung his fist, delivering a solid punch to the Equus' solar plexus, automatically doing all the things he'd been taught about throwing a punch, using all the lessons about how to hold his wrist, elbow and fingers and dig in his toes. The results were spectacular, actually pushing the massive Equus a couple of inches back while he doubled over, eyes bugging out - while Jet's fancy shoes dug straight through the thin layer of volcanic soil that covered the crater-rim to grip the solid rock beneath.

He wasn't done, though. As the stallion's head came down, Jet reached up, grabbed him by the skull, and jumped while simultaneously pulling himself upwards in the ingrained follow-up - a devastating rising knee with all his inhuman strength behind it. His knee hit the Equus' muzzle with a crunching sound, fragmenting the delicate bones there while sending a shockwave up through the entire skull to bounce the brain within off the hard bone on both sides. The Equus foreman was unconscious well before he hit the ground, his eyes rolled back in his skull to show the whites while crimson blood spurted freely from his shattered nose.

The sheer speed and violence of the attack, especially from such an unlikely assailant, caused the entire team of bulky Equus workmen to recoil, hands raised in instinctive defense, eyes wide and pulse pounding with shock and disbelief. In the frozen moment that followed, Jet landed from his jumping attack, spun around, grabbed Mel's hand, and dashed past the paralyzed stallions - almost literally dragging her behind him, seeing as she was just as shocked as they were.

Their flight only ended when the reached the grand bridge that connected the castle to the crater's rim. Right where it met the crater, a small triangular gap could be found beneath it, formed by the bridge, the naked basalt beneath, and the closest of its thick, smooth, stone legs. It was one of several minor 'hideouts' that Mel and Jet had discovered and claimed during their various explorations of the castle and its immediate surroundings, and it was perhaps due to the memory of hiding there and giggling while listening to the people passing obliviously above their heads that Jet automatically gravitated towards that spot, pulling Mel along with him inside, and only then stopping, letting go of her rather sore arm, and plopping down on the bare ground to pant in exhaustion.

Having been forced to keep up with the mad dash, Mel was almost as tired and quickly followed suit - but between her equine stamina and having been pulled the whole way, she recovered her breath a bit before Jet did. "We're gonna be in so much trouble..." she used it to groan, hiding her face in her hands. "We left the blanket and everything back at our spot, too!" Still breathing deeply, Jet didn't answer - he just looked away, glancing out from underneath the bridge... then freezing as he watched a green dragon swoop down from the sky to land on the crater-rim right by the spot they'd just escaped.

Following his eyes, Mel shrank away at the thought of what the dragon would be hearing from the Equus workers there. "So much trouble..." she whimpered. Grunting, Jet leaned back against the bridge-support, stubbornly looking straight ahead into the enchanted stonework of the bridge itself. "Dunno why you're getting so worked up..." he moped. "We aren't gonna get in trouble. I'm gonna get in trouble. Remember? Mom and dad were real clear 'bout that when they suggested that whole _ jobber _-deal. I get to order you around, but I also hafta take responsibility for it... and all you did was follow my orders, right?"

Reminded of this, Mel felt herself calm down and breathe a lot easier. Indeed, that had been made clear, it just hadn't really come up since. Not that the amount of trouble that was about to fall on _Jet's_head as a consequence was anything to laugh about. "Why'd you do it? ...sir?" She asked after a short pause. "I would've been fine, just like you said." Jet grunted, and once again looked away from her - only to flinch a bit as he saw a sleek silver-dragon leap out of the crater-lake to join the green at the site of the incident. "I changed my mind, 's all." He finally replied, rather sullenly.

"...you didn't think they'd actually go for it, did you?" She asked suspiciously. Still looking away, Jet rubbed his face angrily. "Not really. Figured they'd just laugh at you and tell you to go away. Or maybe start arguing with each other." She couldn't help but scowl at that, despite the fact that she'd assumed the same. "That's pretty mean... sir." She said, a bit waspishly. Wincing, Jet finally looked at her for a moment - his expression guilt-ridden. "I know... it just seemed like a funny joke at the time..." he reluctantly replied.

Then he sighed and pushed himself to his feet, brushing the dirt from the seat of his fancy trousers. "Let's hurry home..." he declared, with all the enthusiasm of a man announcing his own trip to the gallows. "Mom'n'dad are gonna find out no matter what, but if we hurry, I can confess first, and that's usually worth a few points." Nodding, she followed suit, brushing off her own, equally-nice but noticeably skimpier dress and following him around the edge of the bridge, back onto the main road - and then across.

There was trouble, indeed, though not as much as either had expected. Lord Blake seemed more amused than anything as he heard the whole story, chuckling as he hid his face in his claws. "Oh, to have _seen_the look on those worker's faces when their foreman got knocked out cold..." he sighed wistfully. Lady Anitra was _somewhat_less amused, and delivered a rather strict lecture about how Jet needed to be 'conscious' of the strength he possessed and not wield it lightly. Then she left to 'clean up his mess' as she rather pointedly put it - returning an hour later with good news.

"There was no lasting damage, in the end... a helpful silver turned up pretty quick and was able to heal up the foreman's face. All of the workers were also very understanding when I explained that it was just a prank that went wrong, and the foreman even wanted to extend his apologies for trying to grab you, Jet - he seemed rather perturbed when he heard that you weren't just some visitor to the Utopia, but the son of the Champion." Jet brightened up significantly at that - only to grimace as his mom then grabbed him by the ear and dragged him towards the small, private play-room that had effectively turned into their school-room as well. "Now I think it's time to refresh a few lessons, young man..." she said ominously.

Still, both of them seemed in fairly high spirits when they emerged a few hours later, and Mel found herself wondering how Jet had managed to get off so lightly. While it was true that Lord Blake always had_doted on his son and been amused rather than angered by his occasional misadventures - only ever raising his voice if the lad did something seriously dangerous - Lady Anitra had _used to show her boy a fairly firm hand, scolding him and dispensing non-corporeal punishment for various misdeeds. Being sent to bed without supper, getting no dessert, having free-time withdrawn and replaced with extra lessons, and being outright grounded for as much as a week had all been applied for far smaller events than this. It seemed like somewhere around the point when she and Jet had first been caught together, Lady Anitra had developed more of a soft spot towards her son, somehow...

That night in bed, they lay silently together for quite some time before Jet finally spoke up, albeit softly. " 'm sorry, Mel. I know I don't hafta apologize to you, 'cuz you're supposed to be my servant and you didn't get in trouble anyway, but I still wanna. I thought it'd be funny even if the horse-men actually went for it, but then they started actually doin' it and it wasn't funny at all. Just made me feel all tight and cold inside. Mebbe it's okay for dad to do that kind of thing with your mom, but I dun' wanna... I dun' wanna see you_ wrestling _ with anyone else but me, okay?"

Here, together in bed, they could be more like the brother and sister they'd once believed themselves to be, and less like the _ Heel and Face _ they'd so recently become - and so, she smiled at him, patted his head and held him close to her chest as she whispered "It's okay, Jet... I'm glad you care about me so much." Soon, they were both drifting off to sleep... but for Mel, that sleep wasn't as restful as it could've been. Even though it WAS nice to know that he cared so much, the fact remained that she'd been _excited_when those Equus stallions started rushing towards her, loin-cloths bulging and hunger in their eyes. That excitement had found no release for the rest of that day, either - and so, she dreamed...

In her dream, she wasn't wearing the dress - just the rest of the outfit, the stockings and the gloves and the choker and the bows - and there was no Jet to jump in either. There was just the dozen sweaty, muscular stallions, each towering over her as they pulled off their loin-cloths to reveal rapidly-rising and hardening cocks already emerging from their sheaths. Even the smallest was on par with her mother's fat shaft, with the rest being more like her _wrist_in thickness - and the biggest sporting girth like a closed fist.

They were all around her, their grips as firm as iron manacles, holding her tight as they plunged into all three of her available orifices. Lips, labia and sphincter were straining, stretching, _hurting_so deliciously as they went deeper and deeper, filling her up with their cocks. All the way to the root they went, leaving her trapped between three sweaty groins, feeling like her whole body had become nothing more than a repository for cock - like their dickheads were meeting somewhere in the middle.

Then they began to pound her, harshly and mercilessly, using all the strength in their well-toned grown-up bodies - just like the first time with her mom, sending shockwaves through her with every thrust, only three times more severe. Her throat was being used just as roughly as the rest of her, her nose repeatedly mashed against his sweat-soaked pubic hair - but she wasn't choking or gagging, just running her tongue around the base of his cock as she readily let him fuck her mouth as deeply as he liked, for as long as he liked... not that she had a real choice, trapped as she was, unable to make any sound save gurgling.

In reality, she was still struggling with throat-fucking - choking and nearly throwing up every time she practiced it with her mom. She'd been promised that once she'd mastered that variant, and proven that she'd learned how to fully suppress her gag-reflex, she'd be given the same alchemical potion that her mother had used to take _her_oral skills to the next level, enabling her to breathe through her nose even while her throat was full. Her _dream-_self, though, was clearly unburdened by such limitations, however.

Thick stallion-cum filled her as the three Equus surrounding her shot their loads - flooding her stomach and womb with that familiar sensation of slimy warmth. As they pulled out, however, they were each instantly replaced by another - another muscular stallion, another thick, hard cock ready to stretch and torment her insides. Powerful hands were holding her wrists and ankles at all time, giving her no chance to escape or fight back as she was penetrated over and over. Dimly, between the cracks of her rapists' bodies, she could see that there were no longer just a dozen - rather, she was surrounded by an uncountable sea of tall, muscular, well-hung bodies, ready to violate her all day, or week, or year...

Over and over she climaxed, even as the cocks grew bigger and bigger, straining and stretching her to an impossible degree, blending pain and pleasure into a strange dish that was tastier than either alone. On and on it went - until suddenly, a cock left her pussy and was instead replaced with a tongue. It felt smaller than she'd expect of a grown Equus, but it moved with incredible skill, darting around and exploring all the folds and creases, teasing and stimulating while intermittently jumping back to her clit to dance around that sensitive nub for just long enough that it started to turn unendurable - then away again, for a few seconds at least. Somehow, that sensation seemed a lot sharper, a lot more full-bodied, than that caused by the arm-thick horse-cocks still rampaging in and out of her throat and tail-hole.

And when she came again, it was far more real than all the orgasms that had gone before, causing the horse-cocks and the surrounding horde of Equus to fade away into nothingness as she leaped back to reality, waking up with an orgasmic scream... to find Jet busy down between her legs, lifting his rather wet face with a wide grin as she goggled down at him. "W...when did you learn to do that?" she gasped, her mind still reeling with the whiplash of resurfacing from such an intense dream. Jet just shrugged and climbed out of bed. "Mom taught me a while back. I just noticed you were really wet and kinda' moaning in your sleep, so I thought I'd give you a treat after yesterday. Now get up, and help me get dressed! I'm famished, and I can smell breakfast cooking already!"

Pleasant though that awakening had been, though, that whole incident was what first made Mel start to notice the cracks in her and Jet's relationship - the discordant notes in their harmony that Jet himself seemed blissfully unaware of. He enjoyed _ being a heel , to be sure - and she enjoyed _ being the face to his heel _... but somehow, the connection was just a little bit _off. In broad strokes, their tastes and interests were perfectly compatible - but the devil was in the details.

Part of it was simply the fact that Jet so clearly intended for them to be together forever - and she wasn't so sure. She was growing increasingly aware of the effective age-gap between them - and realizing that by the time Jet had genuinely 'grown up', she'd be a middle-aged mare in her early twenties. And of course, her mother clearly intended a different path for her - one she could see the appeal of as well.

There were a number of incidents that made her notice the growing divide between them - in fact, an early one occurred shortly after the incident with the Equus workers on the crater-rim, and possibly as a reaction to it. Indeed, it was the first case of their parents directly inviting them to participate in some of their_ wrestling-matches _, as something other than just attentive _ audience _ - possibly deciding that this was a safer way to satisfy any latent _ curiosity _ in either one of them for partners other than each other.

This first such case had clearly been incited by Lord Blake - and as such, it was his rumbling voice that called _ her _ into the common-room for a 'special training-session with Melora', _ while Jet was elsewhere, doing regular solo exercises _. Mel's eyes widened as she entered to find her mother suspended in the air, dangling from her wrists with her legs pulled to the sides in a near-split. She was clearly wearing her Ring of Priap, and was thus sporting a rock-hard erection - which was currently bound by a trio of tight steel bands, the topmost of which was linked to her nipple-piercings by two taut chains, keeping her shaft upright and stretching her nipples in the process as her iron-bound cock's weight rested on them.

More eye-catching was the ballsack, which dangled beneath her now - more than thrice its normal size, covered in distended veins and pulsating slowly. It was probably due to that spell, Mel guessed - she'd seen it applied to various other body-parts during other games, usually nipples or pussies, and once or twice on an exposed sphincter. Made whatever it affected swell significantly and grow both sore and extra sensitive - Lady Anitra had a wand for it that she sometimes used on auntie Direza, though it was likely that Lord Blake had simply cast it himself in this case. She'd never seen it applied to a nutsack before... judging by the familiar look in her mother's eyes, the results were fairly painful all by themselves.

"Now, as you can see, I've prepared a lovely sandbag for _ you alone _to practice on..." Blake said with a smirk, from where he hovered nearby, watching closely. "Melora will give you your instructions - and don't worry, if she falters in her lessons, we'll just start over. _ Step up, Mel, it's not like there's anybody else here to go first." Obediently, she went through a quick boxing-routine, dishing out significant damage and ultimately causing her mother to ejaculate. _

Melora was left hanging from her bonds, panting and shuddering slightly, while auntie Direza cleaned up after her - licking the sprayed cum-stains off the floor, as well as her sweat-darkened coat. Mel watched the battered nutsack with fascination as it continued to dangle beneath her forcibly spread legs in the meantime - throbbing more noticeably than ever, and by now seemingly one big bruise. Every part of its surface had been reddened by the violent assault, and several areas were already going dark purple, including the bottom. It was dawning on her that there had to be more magic at play here than just the spell that caused the swelling - something had to be strengthening her mother's skin somehow, or else the swollen sack would surely have ruptured by now.

After the cleaning was complete, _ she was back _ in front of the 'sandbag', watching her mother struggle to focus her eyes and keep her voice even as she received her instructions - _ it was time to put aside the boxing, and move on to her main forte. S _he hadn't been trained in the same style of fist-focused brawling as Jet, after all, but instead a type of kick-boxing well suited for her long, powerful, equine legs. She didn't possess the kind of supernatural, draconic strength Jet did, but she'd worked hard on her training - and considering how incredibly sore and battered her mother's pain-wracked sack had to be already, it was thus no surprise that every impact from her daughter's rock-hard hooves caused the gasped-out instructions to be interrupted by sharp shrieks and occasional sobs.

As she danced her way through one of her favorite katas - a series of spinning high-kicks that had her hand touching the ground for stability at the apex of every rotation - the rapid-fire succession of powerful blows to the exact same region of the bouncing sack finally reduced her mother to outright tears, dangling limply from her bonds and sobbing for several long seconds as Mel stood awkwardly at the end of the combo, unsure of what to do next. She was acutely aware of Lord Blake's thoughtful eyes, resting on his favored servant, while his mouth remained notably closed.

Mel remembered, after all, what he'd said at the start - that if her mother ever 'faltered' in her instructions, she'd have to start the lesson over again from the top, prolonging her torment even further. And yet, despite Melora's current state undeniably being a textbook example of 'faltering', her Master was making no move to apply the promised punishment. Instead, he simply waited patiently until Melora had managed to master herself, pulled in a shuddering breath, and continued the lesson. "N... next... try the jumping... double... snap-kick... and mind your landing, dear... you tend to stumble on that..." she stuttered out, and Mel obediently carried it out, straining to put her best hoof forwards - but still being forced to repeat the attack three times before she managed to nail the landing.

By the time she finished her routine, her mother was as much of a mess as she'd ever seen her - her coat and mane soaked with sweat, her face stained with tears, her breathing ragged, her eyes and voice equally vague and unfocused. Notable lines of blood marred her frequently-jostled cock, courtesy of the spikes that lined the inside of the iron bands, and the sack that dangled beneath it looked oddly_deflated_ despite clearly being more heavily swollen than ever. Despite the insulation offered by the liquid that had filled it, it seemed nigh-certain that its contents had, by then, been thoroughly pulverized.

As soon as Mel stepped back and bowed, her display complete, Blake moved forwards. "A fine display indeed, young Mel... it is good to know that you aren't slacking off on either facet of your training." He rumbled towards her, but despite getting a warm, fuzzy feeling in her chest from his compliment, she could tell that his attention wasn't really on her. It was entirely focused on her mother, as it had been throughout the session. "Now that we're done, I suppose there's no more need for this..." he then idly declared, reaching out a single claw while scrunching up his brow in concentration. A faint, purple glow appeared around the ornate silver ring that encircled one of Melora's slack fingers as the simple telekinesis-spell took effect - smoothly pulling it off the digit in question.

The moment it left her finger, her cock - and everything associated with it - disappeared in a flash. The three iron bands now dangled emptily from the chains that connected them to each other and her nipples, even the blood that would normally have stained the spikes now absent. More importantly, the swollen, battered, agony-infused scrotum was also gone, and almost instantly, Melora breathed more easily, while the continued shivers that had been rhythmically shaking her body swiftly faded away.

"You_do_ look a dish, strung up like that, though..." Lord Blake thoughtfully continued, stalking around her trussed up form to pause behind her. Already, her eyes were focusing again, her slack muscles tightening. "Perhaps I'll let you hang around for a bit while I have some fun..." he whispered, head right next to hers, sending a shiver through her that clearly had nothing to do with lingering pains. Her pussy, so recently reemerged, was growing visibly wetter by the second. Looking up for a moment, he grinned at Mel _ since there was nobody else there _. "Well, your special training's over - run along and play. Or stay and watch, if you like..."

Normally, there'd be a better than even chance that _ she _ indeed_would_ decide to hang around and watch for a bit, especially with such a novel position being on display - for it did, indeed, seem as if Lord Blake intended to fuck Melora while she hung there, in a rather more vertical fashion than was usually the case. His cock, monumental by humanoid standards, was already unsheathed and being moved into position as he shuffled his haunches forwards, underneath the dangling Equus. _ But then she remembered that Jet would soon be done with his wrestling-practice, and headed off to meet him at their old secret base. _

_ They had agreed to meet there when they were done with their respective practice. _ They rarely came there anymore, for various reasons, but Jet still enjoyed the view from there - it seemed to calm him when he was angry or upset. His growing athleticism also made it quite easy for him to get through the narrow ventilation-slit that led there - while conversely, her own growing 'assets' made the traversal increasingly constricting and painful for her, as both her bum and her tits scraped against the stone. Both naked, too, since they were still in the draconic part of the castle, meaning no dress.

She didn't actually mind - the mild pain and the claustrophobic sense of being trapped between two stone surfaces only aroused her, and if their goal had been some light _ wrestling _ while watching the sun sink over the jungle, she'd have been delighted to return to their old haunt. But she had a pretty keep idea that wasn't what Jet had in mind this time. Soon enough, they were sitting on the edge of the ledge together, looking out across the beautiful vista - while she waited for him to say something.

_ After a bit, Jet started to complain about how his dad was taking the Heel-act too far with Melora, pushing her too far, and that he'd heard he even involved Mel in a worked shoot, which he really didn't like. "He just takes those shoots too far..." Jet moped. _

Mel bit her lip. Too much? How could he be so blind? It had been so carefully and exquisitely just enough. She still felt warm inside at the thought of it, how carefully Lord Blake had monitored the whole thing, gauging her mother's state and reactions all the way through, giving her an extra nudge here, and a slackening of the leash there, all just to ensure that she'd be pushed_right_ to the limit - but no further. That was why she hadn't minded helping with the torture in the least - just from the look in Lord Blake's eyes, she'd known all the way that her actions would only serve to benefit her mother. Jet, however, clearly hadn't_ heard _ that, as his next line made clear.

"Well, you don't need to worry, Mel..." he proudly declared, reaching out to touch her shoulder possessively. "I won't do anything like that. I'll make sure you _ get pinned safely , but I won't be _that mean to you, ever." There wasn't much she could say to that except "Thank you, Master." His words niggled at her for a long time afterward, however, even as they retreated from the edge so that Jet could lie down and rest his head on her lap, her fingers lovingly playing with his curly black hair. It was just youthful folly, she told herself. He'd grow wiser when he got a bit older, and gain a better understanding of the relationship between Master and Servant. She tried not to think about the fact that, by the time he was fully grown, _she_would be a middle-aged mare.

Following this incident, a suspicion began to grow steadily in Mel - one she put to the test by starting to downplay her interest in _ dirty finishes _ to Jet, instead focusing on her very real love of_ foreign object interference . And sure enough, after a few weeks of casually voicing her interest, eagerness or ambivalence towards various _ match-types _, the nature of Jet's daily demands shifted noticeably. She knew that he was still learning to master all manners of _ foreign objects _, both _ real and fake _, with his mother - but he no longer seemed at all interested in using them on _her. Instead, various restraints were put to good use, ensuring that she could be effectively rendered helpless as soon as he decided it was time to _ practice his pins _.

She_did_ enjoy it - of course she did! _ Getting immobilized by the ropes, chains or submission-holds was always good fun . But still... something was definitely missing. The intensity that she'd felt when they were experimenting with all manners of nasty props _ in the early days of their relationship was just... gone. Jet, though, clearly didn't feel that - he seemed to be as eager as ever to share in her company, _ sharpening his basics with lengthy practice-sessions. _

Meanwhile,she was _ hearing fewer boos and cheers during their sessions _ - and found that she was starting to derive more_ entertainment _ from her daily training with her mother than from the time she spent with her ostensible Master. Her mother's cock was big, hard and ever-ready, thanks to the magical Ring of Priap - and she wielded both that and a large variety of vicious torture-tools with utter ruthlessness as she sought to teach her daughter how to tolerate both pain and pleasure in overwhelming amounts.

And yet, somehow, Mel could feel her mother's love in every round of agonizing nipple-torture, every hour-long session of intestinal straightening. Just like Blake with her, Melora was being careful not to put more on her daughter's shoulders than she knew she could carry, and remained ever watchful for signs that she was pushing too hard, too fast. This knowledge gave Mel a deep comfort, enabling her to relax through even the most painful of tortures, and in the process she found herself growing closer to her mother than ever before.

Vaguely, she realized that their sexual relationship was developing into something more than just student and teacher. She was looking forwards to each training-session, not just because she was eager to learn and better herself - though she certainly was - but because she loved the feeling of her mother's thick cock stretching open her ass as she was pinned to the mat by a bigger, stronger, heavier, and yet undeniably loving individual. There was nothing wrong with that, of course - learning how to handle pleasure, how to continue functioning even in the midst of it, even after multiple mind-boggling orgasms, was part of the training, after all. But she had a sneaking feeling that she was going a bit beyond that... that what she enjoyed wasn't just the visceral pleasure of having one of her sensitive orifices violently stimulated, but something deeper and more emotional.

She didn't really know how to put it into words, much less say them out loud and explain it to her mom... but she soon figured out how to convey it anyway. The next time her mother mounted her from the front - after a lengthy pussy-paddling that had turned her labia into a bruised and swollen mess - she reached up, grabbed her mother's face, and kissed her. Not the way she'd kissed her when she was just a filly, but the way she did during kissing-practice, with _passion_and lots of tongue. It clearly caught her mom by surprise - but only for a few moments, before she started to return the favor, pressing Mel's head back down into the mat with the force of it. The sensation served to redouble the delicious mixture of pain and pleasure that was already flowing from her badly-bruised and stretched-open pussy, pushing her towards a wonderful orgasm far quicker than she normally got there.

Afterwards, once the exercise was finished and her mom pulled out and rose off her, she blushed at the intensity of the gaze that was now leveled at her naked and sweaty body. "Grown to enjoy our training-sessions quite a bit, have you?" Her mother asked with mirth in her voice. Mel nodded, silently, trying not to look away. She was vaguely aware that she probably shouldn't feel this way about her mother, _ since Lady Anitra clearly didn't feel anything like it for HER son, but _ it couldn't be all that bad, right?

Chuckling, Melora removed her ring and sat down on a chair outside the mat, next to the small table where she kept the various salves and ointment that helped her daughter recover from the severe training. "I can hardly blame you, I suppose - nor am I blind to what this means..." she said, still smiling. "And worry not, there's no particular reason why our relationship should have to end once your training is complete - unless your Master says otherwise, which I seriously doubt he will. Now, come over here, my dear, and let me soothe your bruises - perhaps we can get in a bit more kissing-practice while we do, hmm?"

They did indeed, and the feeling of sharing a hot make-out session while the pain in her groin was wiped away by skillful, salve-lubricated fingers served to get her well fired up for the next exercise, which proved to be cunnilingus-training - not one of the most frequent entries on her training-menu, but one she threw herself into with undisguised eagerness, savoring the taste of her mother's increasingly moist pussy as well as the low moans she was able to elicit. Even so, however, she wasn't quite sure what her mom had meant by 'knowing what this means'...

It took more than a year from that first incident with the Equus workers before that understanding fully crystallized. During that time, her relationship with her mother continued to deepen and intensify - even taking on an exciting edge as Mel started to occasionally sneak out of Jet's bed once he was snoring blissfully, then quietly slip into the Servant's Room next door, which her mother shared with auntie Direza. Without even the cover of 'training', she'd eagerly climb into her mother's bed - or, for that matter, lean against the wall with her legs spread and her tail invitingly lifted for her mom's thick cock.

Despite some initial reluctance, auntie Direza eventually started to sometimes join in as well, albeit usually in a purely oral sense - she'd loosen and lubricate Mel's tail-hole in preparation for receiving her mother's cock, or help her lick said cock clean in the aftermath. Sometimes she'd just steadily tongue-fuck whichever hole Melora wasn't currently using, amply demonstrating to Mel that she still had a great deal left to learn of cunnilingus. At other times, Mel would practice those skills between her honorary aunt's legs while she was being railed or eaten out from behind.

Jet was still a young boy, and went to bed quite early - early enough, at least, for Mel to amuse herself in her mother's room for an hour or two, then sneak back into her own bed and still get a decent enough sleep by the next morning. All the sneaking around only made it more fun - and it wasn't as if her Master had _actually_given her any orders that would preclude her seeking her mother's bed once he was out like a light.

More to the point, she had certain needs by now, and it was getting hard to have them met during 'days off', when there was no training with her mother to take the edge off - or even days when most of that training was for non-sexual pursuits, be it martial practice or more general education, like reading and writing. Her mother seemed to understand, though - often rewarding her for good performance in those disciplines by bending her over her desk or pushing her to the mat of the martial-arts training-room to give her a good dickin', or even just lift her to an orgasm or two with her tongue and fingers.

A day off meant spending all day waiting on Jet, though - and, well, it wasn't as if it wasn't fun. Going swimming in the lake never got old, and watching the construction of the Bazaar remained good fun, though they'd had to move to a different vantage-point to avoid the ongoing work on the path that would connect to it eventually. Exploring the castle still hadn't lost its shine, either - there remained many odd nooks and crannies left to poke their noses into, and sometimes _ when Jet was off doing something else, she _ made a game of searching out The Slut, the faux-black dragoness who could usually be found paralyzed or napping somewhere, or else currently stuck between a number of 'visitors'.

Watching_her_ for a bit tended to _ get her in the mood for some wrestling , of course - but even if that wasn't on the day's schedule, Jet did always find time to _ pin _ her a few times. Indeed, his _ endurance _ seemed to be growing rapidly as he got older, and she certainly couldn't fault his passion, let alone his inhuman stamina! But in the end... those sessions tended to mostly just involve him _ smacking her into the mat with some basic grapples and then pinning her. Always fun, _but those sessions were just _missing something, and she found herself often exaggerating _ her enjoyment of them _, just to avoid worrying her Young Lord.

To make matters worse, he seemed to have a growing fondness for some of the things they often saw his mother, Lady Anitra, do with auntie Direza. _ Garbage-wrestling, humiliating takedowns and such. She didn't mind, as such , but at the end of the day, it just wasn't her favorite flavor - literally _or figuratively.

And then, when they were both ten years old, came the day when it all became clear to her.

It was an unusual kind of day. A day off, but while they were usually left to their own devices on such days, on this one they were specifically asked to make themselves scarce and not come back 'till supper. This wasn't exactly a new thing - but it was one that had grown much less frequent in recent years. In the past, they'd quickly discovered the reason for those banishments - or rather, the two possible reasons. One was that they were having company - dragon or otherwise - for some _ wrestling _, and said guest apparently didn't feel like having a couple of curious kids watching the fun.

The other was that they were doing something fairly... extreme. Something that was a bit past the usual _ wrestling-bouts of the Champion's Quarters, which they merrily carried on in front of the kids without much concern - indeed, it hadn't been unusual, even before they started their _ wrestling-rival relationship _, for Jet to need to remind his mom that it was almost dinnertime, since she'd gotten caught up in _ pinning _ auntie Direza to the mat . However, as Jet and Mel's experience grew and their training progressed, removing them for _that reason had grown more and more rare - for obvious reasons.

Hence, when they were asked to leave the quarters, they did what they usually did - they hid nearby to wait and watch who'd come to visit. There wasn't really much reason for it - it was something they'd been doing since they were quite young, just out of curiosity, and they'd soon learned to recognize some of the most frequent guests: A blue dragoness, a Rakshasi woman, a halfling that Mel had since gotten to know as 'auntie Gisela', a freckled redhead named Tiffany whom they'd also met at a few parties and been introduced to, a shapely brunette who walked with an exaggerated sway in her hips, and sometimes a scary-looking blood-red horse who was apparently a 'bicorn', and the only one of his kind in the Utopia.

This time, though, nobody showed up... which could only mean that it was the other kind of 'stay out for a bit' situation. Last time that had happened, they'd both been quite intrigued - considering the kind of things they now got to watch their parents do, and sometimes participated in, as with the 'sandbag exercise', what could be going on that they wouldn't want them around for? So they'd peeked, of course, from their usual spot, and been able to conclude that Melora was _ getting beaten _ quite severely - something involving fire, by the smell of it - but they hadn't had the right angle to really see the mainstay of it, only Lady Anitra _ cheering on _ Lord Blake at the same time, and auntie Direza _ throwing additional weapons into the ring _... both rather pedestrian affairs, as far as they were concerned, so they'd eventually gotten tired of trying to guess exactly what was making Mel's mom _ grunt so loudly _, and snuck back out.

This time, though... _ Jet decided to just head to the marketplace to have a browse, while Mel alone _ once again snuck inside, taking advantage of the blind angle provided by the small rooms that adjoined the main door as _ she _ darted across to the small store-room just behind the 'wall-o-toys'. Various things were piled up there, including an impressive suit of gleaming plate-armor on a stand that supposedly belonged to Mel's mom, for all that she'd never seen her wear it, and the saddle that Lord Blake had worn for his and Lady Anitra's past adventures - though these days, she seemed to prefer riding bareback for their short trips around the Utopia's jungle.

More importantly, if _ she _ left the door open just a tad, _ she could peek around the edge to get a decent look at what was going on in front of the wall-o-toys, which was where most of the more complicated sex-games tended to take place - what with all the bondage-furniture standing there and being annoying to move, as well as their vast collection of toys, tools and restraints being readily available. Indeed, that was true this time as well and, better yet, she _ had a decent angle now - where before, Melora had apparently been bound to one of the racks or other restraints near the wall, she was now standing unbound and naked in the middle of the floor, looking mildly nervous, while a lit brazier glowed red beside her.

Lord Blake loomed beside Melora, looking fondly down at her, while a bit further away, Lady Anitra and auntie Direza were watching. Direza was fondling the silvery spider-emblem that hung from her neck nervously, suggesting that she was prepared to jump in with a healing-spell or two if anything went wrong. "Are you ready, my pet?" Lord Blake crooned, making Melora shiver. Swallowing, she nodded jerkily. "Yes, Master." Smiling, Lord Blake lowered his head towards her. "Then assume the position, and hold it. Remember... you chose this. I will not have you restrained for the insertion..."

Her breathing noticeably accelerated, Melora obeyed - clasping her arms together behind her back, and sliding her feet apart so that she was standing with her legs spread. She was even bending her torso a bit backwards, as if thrusting her groin out. Chuckling, Lord Blake stretched out his neck and lowered his head further, reaching it down to the offered pussy and letting his serpentine tongue briefly lash out to caress the top of it, prompting a shiver and a low moan. "Already nice and engorged... excited, are we?" He commented conversationally, eyes clearly on her clit.

It was nearly the size of a little finger's outer link, poking out from the heavy folds of its hood - an Equus trait, Mel had surmised from the fact that both Lady Anitra and auntie Direza sported far more minute and well-concealed specimens, while her own was growing noticeably as her body put on curves. Now, her eyes widened as one of Lord Blake's razor-sharp claws approached the tiny nub. With exquisitely delicate control, however, it avoided the clit itself - instead cutting through the folds of the hood above, deftly slicing off a layer of relatively thin tissue, leaving the sensitive nub completely exposed.

Blood oozed slowly from the resulting wound as Lord Blake lifted the tiny sliver of flesh to his face, impaled on one talon, and studied it closely. "Such a minute thing..." he marveled. "Well, no sense letting it go to waste." With a flick, he popped it into his mouth and swallowed, while Melora watched with almost feverish fascination. Then he glanced towards auntie Direza. "If you would?" Jumping slightly, Direza indeed rushed forwards with an obedient nod. Whispering something indecipherable, she ran a single finger across the exposed tissue, causing it to instantly scab over and heal. A wet cloth then quickly wiped away the blood, leaving the now-exposed clit standing bare and extremely exposed, there at the top of Melora's drooling slit.

As Direza subsequently retreated back to her Mistress side, Lord Blake straightened up. "Well, then... preparations are complete. It is time. Unless you'd care to call this off in the last possible second, perhaps? You still can. I will not make it... quick, you know." Melora, however, shook her head vigorously, mane flying, and maintained her stance. "Please, Master... I want my body and soul to be yours, to always be yours... I want this more than anything..." she whispered through her rapid breathing. She hadn't flinched when her clitoral hood was cut away, and Mel felt a tingling excitement - what manner of torture could possibly merit this kind of preparation, considering her mother's incredible pain-tolerance?

Looking fondly down on her, his head raised once more, Lord Blake smiled gently. "So be it. Do not move. Not an inch. That is all I ask. For now, my usual request about keeping your voice down is out of effect - scream as loud as you need to." Then his eyes focused, and something rose from the brazier surrounded by a light purple glow. Mel had to restrain a gasp when she saw it. It was a long, thin spike, perhaps as much as six inches long, with a strangely hemispherical head. Having apparently spent some time resting in the brazier, it was also glowing white-hot, making the magical aura of Lord Blake's telekinesis-spell hard to see.

She_ was glad that Jet was not here to see this, being clearly too young and human for such things _ as she watched with rapt attention, not even wanting to blink. The spike moved smoothly through the air, until its pointy end hovered just before Melora's exposed clit - even there, the heat that it gave off had to be painful. "So it begins..." Lord Blake declared quietly, a focused look in his eyes. "This will only take a few minutes, but I expect it will feel like much, much longer. Take the bit between your teeth." Nodding shakily, Melora unfolded her arms from behind her, to reveal that one of her hands had been clinging to one of the equine-style bit-gags she occasionally wore. With practiced moves, she strapped it to her face, giving her teeth something to bite into rather than grinding together during what was to come. Then her arms moved back behind her, clasping tightly - her groin had never moved even a hair, her clit remaining just before the threatening, white-hot spike.

Then, it began. The glowing spike moved inexorably forwards, pushing into the yielding flesh of Melora's exposed clit with an audible hiss and a small string of rising smoke. It moved agonizingly slowly, inching its way forwards like an overly relaxed snail, as it pushed deeper and deeper inside Melora's body. Her eyes were locked to the ceiling above, her muscles bulging everywhere - legs, arms, shoulders, neck - and the bit-gag was clearly getting a real workout. By the time a third of it was inside, she finally started screaming - a tearing sound of pure agony that was all the more shocking for how rarely it was heard.

She continued to scream out her pain, pausing only to breathe, as the needle continued pushing deeper, only red hot by now - but her body remained stubbornly static, her muscles tense like steel cables, holding her in place as effectively as the strongest of manacles. Her groin remained thrust-out, exposed, ready to receive the pain. Mel could barely breathe as she watched, the minutes oozing by with impossible slowness. Surely, by now, that spike would be penetrating her mother's very womb! Was all of it really supposed to go in?

It was indeed, as it turned out. Finally, after what had to have seemed like an eternity to poor Melora, the needle disappeared completely inside her tormented flesh, leaving its hollow, hemispherical head to cover her penetrated clit completely, resting flush against the surrounding tissue with a slight hiss as it finished cooling. The scream faded into a desperate panting. Then Lord Blake tapped the clit-covering metal with one talon. "Activate." he simply said. And then, finally, with a wheezing cry from overexerted lungs, Melora collapsed on the floor, rolling into a ball to protect her groin as her instincts finally overpowered her will.

Sighing, Lord Blake reached down to run one blood-stained talon through Melora's sweat-soaked mane. "You did well to endure so long, my pet. Now let us see if the instrument of your torment cannot salve some of your suffering, hmm?" As he talked, the bunched muscles of the sobbing Equus on the floor began to loosen, and her choppy breathing grew steadier - turning into something more like a pant. Bit by bit, her limbs unfolded as she pushed herself up onto her knees.

Her presence seemed completely different from when she had collapsed. Even kneeling, she was spreading her legs to show the golden glint of the metallic cap that now covered her clit, and her nipples were noticeably erect amidst the rings that encircled them. Her breathing quickened, and her hands rose, seemingly automatically, to cup and squeeze her generous breasts. Her eyes seemed glazed over, unfocused - and _ Melora alone _ continued to watch in astonishment from _ her _ hiding-place, she threw back her head and let out an orgasmic cry that was only slightly distorted by the bit-gag that still bound her head.

Lord Blake laughed delightedly. "Aha! It genuinely works! Now that it's completely entwined with your primary pleasure-organ, I can grant you all-consuming ecstasy or unspeakable pain with naught but a thought... though, I think we'll wait a bit to test the exact limits of those features. For now, enough pleasure to churn the pain you still feel into your favorite melange should suffice, hmm?" Melora's still-vague eyes seemed to focus on him somewhat as he talked, and with the final rising note of his question, she managed to moan out a reply even as renewed shudders of pleasure ran through her body. "Th-thank youuuu Master... p-please, use it... as you see fit..."

Chuckling, Lord Blake shook his head. "Indeed? If it works as advertised, I could use it to overwhelm even you with such sheer agony that it would, at length, stop your heart. Or drown you in such all-consuming, neverending pleasure that after a few days, there'd be nothing left of your mind save the craving for more. But you like_that, don't you?" Even through the rising of a second orgasm, Melora managed to smile broadly as she replied between pants. "Y-yes... Ma-master... my body... _angh! - has always been in your... hah... hah... hand. Now my soul and... oohhhh!...and my mind is too. As it should be... oh yes!"

As she shuddered and moaned her way through another orgasm, Lord Blake reared back on his hindquarters - exposing his fully unsheathed and rock-hard cock. "A lovely sentiment, my pet..." he crooned. "Now come over here and show me your appreciation. Surely, you can manage to use that sweet mouth of yours skillfully even while enjoying the benefits of your new adornment?" Ever obedient, Melora attempted to get to her hooves... only for her legs to shake and collapse under hear again as the next orgasm began to build. Instead, she simply crawled across the floor on all fours to reach and begin lovingly caressing Lord Blake's immense scepter.

Mel would have happily continued to watch the show, to see if any of the cruel clit-spike's other features would be demonstrated - _ but she knew that Jet would soon be coming back, and she didn't want to risk him sneaking in after her . A last lingering glance at least showed her that at least the 'main event' was considered over by the participants - indeed, Lady Anitra and auntie Direza were no longer watching Melora with rapt attention, but had instead started their own little diversion... well, _Lady Anitra was still watching, albeit with somewhat divided attention, since she was sitting atop the upturned face of the kneeling Direza.

It was a testament to how enraptured Mel had been by the display - and how aroused, based on the wetness oozing down her inner thighs - that it wasn't until they were both outside, resting against the wall in the empty corridor, that _ she started thinking about what she should tell Jet when he asked her what she'd seen. Ultimately, she settled on telling him that Blake had been taking Melora down in a Hell-in-the-Cell barbed-wire cage-match, finishing by throwing her off the top of it. _ _ Jet didn't much like the sound of that, and started pacing and mumbling. _

Finally, he stopped his pacing and faced her with a strange look on his face. "Dad just... goes too far sometimes, I guess..." he declared, sounding almost apologetic. "I'm sorry your mum had to go through that. But don't worry - I won't treat you that way, ever, I promise!" Then, with a shrug, he turned away as she gaped at him. "C'mon, let's hit the kitchens. I wanna snack." As she followed after him, her legs moving automatically, her mind began to churn and the pieces came together at last - forming a final, undeniable realization.

Jet just... wasn't into pain, at all. He apparently hadn't inherited the sadistic tendencies of either of his parents. He was _ a heel , oh sure - that much, he'd _learned, whether he was naturally inclined towards it or not. But his style of _ wrestling had become 'soft', more aimed towards _ playing up his opponent _ than _ showing off his own skills _... and if anything, his own interests seemed to run closer to his mother's, drawing pleasure from the _mental side of _ wrestling. _

That didn't make him a bad _ heel , of course. In fact, Mel could imagine a lot of _ faces _ who'd be very happy to spar with _ a man like the one he'd soon grow into. She just... wasn't one of them. She had inherited her mother's masochism, after all, to some degree at the very least. And she longed for the 'hard' domination that Lord Blake exercised - a level of control that Jet seemed incapable of even understanding. Somehow, he just couldn't seem to comprehend the way his father was able to use his absolute confidence and keen perception to push his servants farther than they'd ever dreamed they could go.

She wanted that, though. Oh how she wanted it, now that she'd seen it in all its glory. Already, she knew what her decision would be once she came of age. Her mother would get her wish, and see her walk in her hoofprints. She wanted to feel what it was like to be dominated so utterly, so ruthlessly, and yet so lovingly. Some day, she wanted to be able to take the same kind of pain she'd just seen her mother handle - and, just like her mother, to endure it because she loved the one who was tormenting her so.

Perhaps she was being unfair. Perhaps with age, Jet would achieve a greater understanding, or develop a taste for a sharper, harsher kind of_ wrestling . But she couldn't really afford to wait for that. She understood, by now - Lord Jet, Lady Anitra, auntie Direza, and Lord Blake in particular, they all had an incomprehensible number of years available to them. They could take it easy, go with the flow, wait for their chance. But she was Equus. She had forty, maybe fifty years at most left, and the last ten or so wouldn't be much fun. She had to make the most of them, as her mother had. So when a _true Master - one she knew could satisfy her needs fully - was available from the moment she'd reach a suitable age... well, she just couldn't really afford to gamble on Jet, no matter how much she cared about him.

For all of that, nothing seemed to change on that day. She didn't share her realization, nor her decision, with her current Master. She continued to find as much enjoyment as she could in the _ regular wrestling-practice they did together _, while sneaking off to her mother's chambers on the regular to get the rest of her needs sated. What would be the point of souring their relationship by letting him know, already, that she wouldn't be prolonging it?

She'd sworn to serve him until her 12th birthday, after all - and while it seemed likely that he'd release her from it early if she pleaded with him to do so, dropping out of her current servitude prematurely wasn't likely to impress her future Master, or her mother. Besides, she wouldn't be allowed to enter Lord Blake's service until she turned 12 anyway. So all she could do was bide her time for two more years, and focus on her training in the meantime.

There was plenty of training to focus on, fortunately. Indeed, not long after the voyeuristic incident, she obtained a new teacher - the halfling woman she'd known as 'auntie Gisela' for most of her life. The vivacious halfling could probably have taught any number of subjects - from silversmithing to the finer points of partying - but she was brought in to teach Mel one particular subject: Advanced Cunnilingus. Melora herself readily admitted that her skills just weren't all that brilliant in that field, and while Mel was inclined to argue that point - feeling her mother's wide, powerful tongue twisting around inside her pussy tended to make her cum fast and hard - she certainly didn't mind learning some new tricks, and auntie Gisela did indeed prove to own a remarkably well-educated tongue.

The price she charged for those lessons, meanwhile, only served to make them more... entertaining. The halfling seemingly never tired of being picked up bodily by the muscular Melora and roughly impaled ass-first on her magically-summoned cock - and that, thus, was how every lesson with her ended. Conveniently, that meant that once she'd internalized some new tongue-trick or other oral twist, Mel would have a fine chance to try it out, since her mother usually lifted auntie Gisela by the knees, keeping her pussy empty and exposed while pouring more thick horse-cock into the ass of the diminutive woman than one would really have assumed she could handle.

Sometimes she stuck around after training too, for the 'wind-down' that had gradually become a tradition - a chance for Mel to enjoy some sexual games with her mom without the stress of the training or the limitations of sneaky night-time fun. Nothing too extreme - considering that she'd inevitably still be more than a little sore from the training, it wasn't really necessary, and the warm-and-fuzzy sense of intimacy that these sessions brought with them made it quite an enjoyable time even if she didn't wind up getting a load of earth-shattering orgasms and whatnot.

A particular favorite was to simply lie on her back with her muzzle buried in her mother's pussy, tail-hole, or sweat-scented balls while keeping her legs spread for the steadily-descending flogger - not the kind of full-force blows that she'd be subjected to when training her pain-tolerance, but just a series of light, almost caressing blows that could sometimes bring her off all by itself, and at other times just make her cunt deliciously sore for the fucking or fisting that followed.

When Gisela was around, though, more complicated configurations became possible, including some literally triangular ones - such as having Gisela on her back with Mel sitting on her face, enjoying her skillful tongue while making out with her mother who, at the same time, would be pounding the halfling's otherwise-neglected pussy. It was also during one of these sessions, while enjoying the feeling of her mom pounding her tail-hole while wearing a cock-ring lined with upturned spikes, and working her own tongue up auntie Gisela's asshole, that she got confirmation that the desire she felt for her mother's touch indeed would be considered depraved and taboo in most of the outside world.

"Not so much among us halflings, though... ahh... you're getting good at that, kid..." Gisela sighed while leaning back against her equine face. "Those of us who don't elect to stay out in the wide world - like myself - all live in small farming-villages where everyone's pretty much related anyway." She explained afterwards, when they were just relaxing together, letting the sweat steam off and idly moving their fingers inside one another's holes. "For a young girl growing up there, your choice of partners basically boils down to 'second cousins', 'immediate family', or 'the farm-animals'. It varies which option folks go for - some prefer 'all of the above'! Either way, between that and our cultural love of drinking and partying, stuff tends to happen pretty regularly, between parents and children, or between siblings... you're not supposed to talk 'bout it, though, of course, especially not to outsiders!"

It comforted Mel somewhat to know that there were places, even outside the Utopia, where her feelings wouldn't be considered too aberrant... but ultimately, she just didn't care much anymore. The Dragon Utopia was her home, and she'd already made up her mind to stay there, with Lord Blake, for the rest of her life. Another thing to consider, really - from what she'd learned, Young Lord Jet, being a Dragonchild, would eventually be seized by an unquenchable wanderlust once he grew up, and thus would inevitably leave. If she wanted to stay with him, to stay his, she'd have to leave with him. Leaving behind the Utopia, and her mother...

Another source of comfort was the growing number of 'practical exercises'... as Lord Blake referred to them. Sometimes, when he was amusing himself with her mother, he'd invite her to join in for a bit, for a purely non-penetrative part in the ongoing event - _ something that naturally only happened when Jet was elsewhere. _

She'd be tasked with things such as assisting her mother in pleasuring Lord Blake orally, applying minor torture-instruments such as clamps or needles to various sensitive parts of Melora's anatomy while Lord Blake continued to fuck her, or digging her tongue into her mom's asshole to lubricate and loosen it up for his cock. The last one was a particular treat, despite her not generally being fond of the taste of ass - being so close to Lord Blake's imposing bulk gave her a particular appreciation for why her mom's tail-hole looked the way it did. It made her realize that the thickened, misshapen and distended sphincter that hid under her light-brown tail was a mark of her long-time relationship with her Master, a way her body had been reshaped by him, for his use. In her eyes, that twisted, oft-leaking ring was a thing of beauty, a badge of her Master's appreciation.

Regardless of the role she played, though, she greatly enjoyed these often-short 'exercises' - just being near Lord Blake made her soft in the knees and set her heart beating faster. Something about his presence, perhaps his scent, seemed to just seep right into her mind, making her want to serve him, want to submit to him, want to _please_him more than anything. Still, getting such a close look at the size of his cock also made her appreciate why she needed to wait 'till she was fully grown before she tried to do so. No mere stallion, Equus or four-legged, could have hoped to wield such a magnificent instrument. She'd need a fully-matured body and lots of training if she wanted a chance to accommodate it...

Mature she did, as the months crept by. So did her Lord, for that matter, and he was finally starting to catch up with her in that regard, shooting up like a weed and filling out with well-toned muscle. Still a boy, perhaps, but a tall, fit boy on the very cusp of becoming a man. Mel could not deny that he was growing more attractive by the day, with some of the boyish chubbiness disappearing from his face, showing the start of what would no doubt become the visage of a natural heartbreaker one day. His strengthened _ body also lent itself to more dramatic throws and wrestling-moves, of course. _

Lady Anitra seemed to appreciate his growth more than she did, at least. _ She obviously saw the potential of a great wrestler in him, and it was often when she had dragged him away to do more strength-training of grappling-exercises that Lord Blake took the opportunity to get up to some adult fun with Melora and call in Mel to assist. _

Eventually, her Lord reached his 12th birthday. It was properly celebrated, with a cake big enough that Lord Blake could have a slice too delivered from the castle kitchens. Mel spent most of the day being suitably attentive, waiting on her Master even more obediently than normal - this was a special day, after all - and later in the evening, after the cake had been duly digested, she was part of the night's entertainment. At Lord Blake's request, Lord Jet provided a demonstration of his progress, showing off all that he had learned under his mother's tutelage so far -_ pins, grapples, foreign object use and the best ways to draw heat and earn boos from the crowd. _

Mel, of course, was the subject of the demonstration... but she wasn't alone. Lady Anitra had eagerly volunteered to _ also be part of the match _ Throughout the evening, Mel wondered if Lady Anitra noticed the pattern in whom Jet turned to for each display as keenly as she did, and if so, what she might think of it. Certainly, she appeared to be enjoying herself quite significantly regardless.

_ Mel could not help but notice that it was only Anitra who got smacked with the steel chairs or hurled out of the ring to crush the commentator's table, while she herself was subjected only to the usual rope-tangling, grapples and pins. She was rather annoyed by this, since she felt certain she could handle the rougher spots just as well. _

When the demonstration was over, and both she and Lady Anitra had _ wiped off the sweat from the bout _ - and Lady Anitra seen to by her devoted servant, Direza, of course - Lord Blake loomed over them and nodded pleasantly at his son. "You have certainly grown by leaps and bounds, my lad... your studies have not been in vain. Soon, you will be a man, and a _ Heel _ worthy of the name." To Mel, however, it seemed as if there was a certain uncertainty, a vague lack of conviction, in the fearsome dragon's words - no doubt, he too had noticed his son's selection of targets for his various arts, and considering the insightfulness she'd seen demonstrated when he was tormenting her mother, there was little doubt that he'd realized that his son had chosen poorly.

Even so, if he had misgivings, he hid them well, and Jet himself did not seem to pick up on them at all. Instead, his attention was riveted on the large, elongated object covered in a cloth of purple velvet that was now being carried out of the nearby store-room by Melora, and deposited before him. "And as such, your mother and I have prepared for you a gift worthy of a Man..." Lord Blake continued, gesturing towards Jet's birthday-present. Mel, too, found herself looking at it, intrigued.

Gifts, in the Utopia, were generally largely a symbolic affair. Everything you needed and most of the things you wanted were yours for the asking, after all. A small token, hence, was the standard - just something to show the gift-giver's thoughtfulness - or perhaps just something that the recipient had never realized they wanted. However, even here, there were things that not just anyone could get... but the Utopia's Leading Couple weren't just anyone, either.

The eyes of both Mel and Jet widened as the purple cloth was torn away to reveal an armor-stand bedecked in a glorious suit of scale armor, fit for Jet's size. Dragon-scale armor, to be specific - featuring scales from all the different colors that inhabited the Utopia, with black of course being much in appearance. The gauntlets were lined with dragon-teeth along the knuckles, the helmet shaped like a roaring dragon-head, with ruby eyeballs - just two of the several gemstones that had been inset in various key points to focus and charge the potent enchantments that flowed through the suit's scales and the platinum detailing around the edges.

Jet's eyes gleamed almost as much as the helmet's as he inspected his new 'outfit', while above, his father continued to explain. "Drewyn, the same smith who crafted your mother's armor, led an entire team of craftsmen and enchanters to create it... provided some of the raw materials, too! The enchantments on it should make it virtually impenetrable to any kind of harm, along with increasing your strength tenfold. It will even grow with you as you put on muscle - or inches! A rather marvelous piece, I daresay..." Jet seemed inclined to agree, and wasted no time pulling it on - a process that was made far easier by various enchantments than would otherwise have been the case. The pieces came apart and joined together seamlessly without anything needing to be tied or buckled, and the armor itself seemed to be incredibly lightweight for its sheer mass. He cut a dashing figure in it, too, Mel had to admit!

There were other presents for him too, of course, though they all paled in comparison to the grand armor - most of them seemed to largely just be tokens of respect for his parents, anyway, including gifts from all five of his honorary 'aunts and uncles'... the five sets of Black Dragon and Rider that resided in the Utopia by now. Only the oldest of them - Lady Tiriana and her steed, Lord Slate - were really familiar to Mel, since they had been present at a few feasts and parties over the years, but she was well aware that all of them were careful to avoid offering Lord Blake and Lady Anitra any insult. Either way, Jet was suitably showered with attention and gifts, and considered the day a complete success.

Then, a few short days later, it was her 12th birthday - a date she had simultaneously been eagerly anticipating and secretly dreading. It was clear, during those days, that her Master Jet had no idea what decision she had already reached - indeed, he seemed to be naturally assuming that she'd wish to continue as his servant for years to come. And why wouldn't he? They'd been together all their lives, first as siblings, then_ wrestling-rivals , and finally _ as Heel and Face _. Indeed, she still remembered how - in their early years - they'd celebrated their birthdays together. His idea, supposedly, in the sense that he'd apparently thrown a fit during an early party because _she wasn't getting gifts and cakes when he was. Considering the small space of time between the two dates, the grown-ups had just shrugged and combined the two celebrations.

Then they'd turned seven, and gradually realized that they were not, in fact, siblings. Their birthdays had been quietly separated, even while they continued to share a bed... hence, over the last five years, her birthday-celebrations had been relatively quiet, intimate affairs. Cake and gifts, sure, but only from her mom and Jet, and recently a little something from aunt Gisela too. The last couple of years, she'd mostly just enjoyed spending some quality alone-time with her mother... who, on that day, would happily fuck her silly as many times as she asked, in any way that she asked. She'd eventually go to bed pleasantly sore, full of cum and cake...

This time, though, Lord Blake and Lady Anitra were throwing her a proper celebration, since this was her Coming-Of-Age - as an Equus, she was considered a full adult at age 12. She wasn't sure if she really_felt_ all that grown-up yet, but her body had certainly made some headway in that direction. She still didn't exactly have her mother's curves, but her chest and her behind alike had grown noticeably outwards, and she was getting better and better at handling even the thickest intrusions in her holes, vaginal and anal alike.

So there were gifts, including some from people she'd never even heard of before, supposedly shipped here from afar - and a table bedecked with more exotic delicacies than the Utopia's kitchens would generally supply to a simple servant-girl's birthday-celebration. The most significant present was from her mother, of course - a bottle of an alchemical draught that she wasted no time consuming. It burned in her throat, and then it got worse - a tearing sensation that ripped a gurgling groan from her lips, lasting for several long minutes as her neck and esophagus were alchemically rearranged. Then it passed, and she found herself in possession of the same gift her mother had once received from Lord Blake - the ability to continue breathing through her nose even with her mouth and throat blocked.

She desperately wanted to try out her new ability, but doubted she'd have the chance soon - for as the sun began to sink towards the crater-rim outside the large, arched windows of the Champion's Quarters, they arrived at the part she'd been dreading for years now. Heart beating painfully fast in her chest, she stood facing Lord Blake, as Lady Anitra slouched against his scaly flanks. In what was_probably_ an accidental rather than deliberate bit of symbolism, Jet was lingering near the party-table, still decked with delicious food and cold drinks, off on her left - while her mother stood at attention on her right, near the wall-o-toys and the larger bondage-furniture.

"Well, young Mel..." Lord Blake rumbled down at her, his head raised well above hers. "You have served my son for the past five years - and served him well, from what I have been able to see. Would you agree, my boy?" His eyes shifted to his son, who looked up from the slice of cake he'd just maneuvered onto his plate and grinned. "Of course, dad! She's Mel! I love having her by my side all the time..." Mel could only wince at this - a gesture that Lord Blake probably noticed, but also carefully ignored. Instead, he just nodded firmly and returned his attention to her.

"The agreement was that you should serve him until your twelfth birthday - which has now come. Your term thus expired, you are - for the moment - entirely and completely free. Keep that in mind when I tell you that you have three obvious choices at this time! You can, if you so choose, apply to my son to continue _ jobbing for him _ - from the sound of it, he would be eager to accept you for a longer period of time!" Jet confirmed this with a mumbled agreement through a mouthful of cake. "Another option, of course, is to simply walk your own path." Lord Blake continued, his eyes drifting to the opening that led out to the balcony - and by extension, the world beyond the castle. "You are an adult now, and could find work here in the Utopia alongside your fellow Equus, if you are so inclined - or even leave the Utopia altogether and seek your fortune elsewhere, such as back in the Kingdom of Equus that your kin originates from!"

Mel's nose wrinkled. That option seemed quite unattractive to her. Her mother had told her, at least in part, of the many troubles, dangers and challenges she had faced when she sought to make her own way in the outside world - something she had done solely in a bid to find Lord Blake and enter his service for good. Perhaps, for some, the 'freedom' inherent in such a dangerous and risk-fraught path would be appealing - but not for her. Instead, she waited with bated breath for the third option she knew was coming. And indeed, with a short intake of breath and a covert glance towards his inattentive son, Lord Blake continued.

"The third option... well, when you were born, I promised your mother that once you came of age, I would welcome you into my service, though only if that was what you truly desired. I am aware that your mother still sincerely wishes for you to take that path, young Mel - to follow in her hoofprints and eventually replace her as my personal servant. Keep in mind, however, that this choice is not your mother's, but yours." Lord Blake sounded quite grave, and to her credit, Mel was doing her very best to consider the matter seriously and independently. She already knew what her decision was, of course, but as she turned it over in her head, she felt more and more certain that it indeed was her decision. She loved her mother - in ways that would be considered more than a little taboo outside the Utopia - and certainly she wanted to win her approval! But that wasn't the reason she wanted to enter Lord Blake's service. No - she had simply seen how happy her mother was in serving him, and how carefully he created and nurtured that happiness. She also knew that she didn't want to_leave_... and that she couldn't stomach spending the rest of her life serving a young man who, however much they loved one another, couldn't possibly satisfy her true desires.

Lord Blake seemed to sense her thoughtfulness, and waited for a few breaths before he finished his speech. "You need not decide right this very moment, of course. If you wish to take some time to consider your future, you are naturally free to do so. However, I know that you have been aware this day would come for years now - so if you have reached a decision already, then by all means, speak it aloud!" With this, he lowered his previously raised head, resting it on his nest beside Lady Anitra, who reached out to caress his snout with a slight smile. A deliberate attempt not to loom threateningly over her when she decided, perhaps. Or perhaps a secret need for reassurance from his loving wife, Mel wondered - after all, she had long suspected that Lord Blake was well aware what answer she tended towards, and how poorly his son was likely to take it.

She spent a few futile seconds trying to calm herself, but there was no helping it... her heart was galloping, her pulse was pounding, and sweat was darkening her coat. All she could do was take a deep breath, attempt to stop her voice from wavering too much, and speak up. "I have already reached a decision, Lord Blake..." she declared, gripping one arm with the other to stop it from shaking. Her voice was less stable than she would have liked, but at least it hadn't broken. "If you indeed would have me, I would like to serve you... My Lord."

A delighted laugh resounded from her right, and moments later, she felt her mother's strong arms embrace her from behind, hugging her tightly, calming her trembling muscles. From her left, meanwhile, a stunned silence, followed by the shattering, splattering sound of a cake-filled plate hitting the stone floor. A renewed tremor ran through Mel's body as she watched Lord Blake raise his head again, gazing over in the direction she didn't dare to look right now, then back at her. His great head nodded. "Indeed, I will happily take you into my service, Young Mel. Tomorrow night, you will speak your vows. This, after all, is still your day off..."

"Dad! You can't!" Jet shouted, stepping forwards into Mel's field of view, bright icing splattered on his neat shoes. Lord Blake turned his eyes back on his son, his scaly brow wrinkling with uncertainty. "What can't I, and why can I not? Do try to make a complete sentence, son, you should be old enough for that by now..." he replied, sounding somewhat severe. It was rare for him to take such a tone with his dearly beloved son, but all the same, Jet didn't seem to care much. "You can't take Mel! She's mine!" He declared by way of reply, gesturing towards his chest with one hand, and towards her with the other, making her stiffen in her mother's arms.

Sighing, Lord Blake, stretched out his neck, moving his head towards his son, his eyes pained. "Boy... she's not yours. Not today. Nor tomorrow, by the sound of it." He said gravely. "You cannot make somebody yours just by willing it so - even I learned this, eventually, and it should come easier to you, what with your human blood. She was yours, yes, for a while, because she chose_to be. Now, she has chosen differently, and neither you nor I have the right to override that choice." Jet, however, did not seem convinced. "But she didn't _really choose!" He shouted angrily. "Her mom made her! She's always wanted Mel to become your servant just like her - you just said so!"

Mel felt her mother stiffen behind her, felt her desire to object, to contradict, restrained by the awareness of her station. She had always acted respectful towards Jet, always referred to him as 'Young Lord' - he was, after all, the son of her Master, even if he had supped at her teat as an infant, shared a crib with her daughter, and spent his early years thinking of her as a second mother. Even now, she wasn't going to speak up against him.

But Mel was. Feeling her breath and her pulse steadying with sudden determination, she gently pushed her mothers' arms aside and stepped forwards. On this day alone, she was truly free - no longer beholden to Jet, not yet beholden to Lord Blake. She could speak freely and look them both in the eye in a way she hadn't been able to since she was young enough to think that she and Jet were truly siblings. "Please, Jet, just stop it..." she said tiredly, walking towards him. He froze, turning from his father to look at her, a pained expression on his face.

"But Mel..." he said pleadingly, sounding much like the little brother she'd once thought of him as. "Don't you love me?" Stopping in front of him, she flashed him a half-smile. "Of course I do, Jet. And I always will. But I think you made a better brother for me than a _ wrestling-partner _ - let alone a_ heel . I'm sure there are lots of girls out there who'd love to spend their lives with you - you're a strong, bright, handsome lad, after all - you're just not right for _me." Jet scowled at this, pain and anger warring for control over his face. "I thought you were happy with me! I did everything I could to make you happy! Dad will just be cruel to you, like he is to your mom!" He complained.

Sighing, she ran her fingers back through her blond, sweat-matted mane like a comb. "You never really understood what would make me happy, Jet..." she replied frankly. "Just like you don't understand how happy your dad makes my mom - let alone how he does_it._ It's not your fault, really, it's just who you are. Just like I am who I am. Maybe I'm the filly my mom raised me to be, to a point - but in the end, aren't we all just the sum of our influences?" The last part, she asked the empty air as much as Jet, her mind wandering. Sure, it felt like something had pushed - or perhaps pulled - her towards Lord Blake, and her mother had certainly done what she could to nudge her, but did that mean that she didn't have free will? That the choice wasn't really hers?_She _felt like she'd made a choice, at least, and she'd stand by it.

The airily philosophical question certainly seemed to stump him for a moment - then his face grew cloudy again, and his voice sounded thick when he finally replied. "I just wanted you to stay with me... I worked really hard at it, too..." he said, a faint shimmer in his eyes despite the scowl that surrounded them. Mel could only shake her head sadly. "I'm sorry, Jet... I know you thought you had to become my _ wrestling-rival _, my _ heel _, to make me 'stay' with you... but I'll always be your sister. I'm not going to 'leave' you. I'm just... going to follow the path I've chosen."

Nothing else was said that night. Nor was any more cake eaten. Jet left in a hurry, turning his back with a jerk that made her suspect he was hiding his tears. She wondered, as he stalked out of the Champion's Quarters, if he could still squeeze his way into their old 'secret base'. Certainly, she could not follow him there anymore. She could see a deep pain in Lord Blake's reptilian eyes as he looked after his retreating son, and his wings stirred - but Lady Anitra put a calming hand on them. "Let him go, love..." she said quietly. "Pain can be an effective teacher, and this is a lesson he needs to learn."

Jet didn't return to his bed that night. Mel, meanwhile, slept in the Servant's Quarters, in her mother's bed - just sleep, this time. Neither of them were in a mood for anything else after the emotionally wrenching evening. The next morning, somewhat bedraggled, he showed up for breakfast - with a look of stony-faced determination and an announcement to make. "I'm leaving." He declared, causing every set of eyes around the breakfast-table to widen.

"What do you mean, 'leaving'?" His mother asked in disbelief, her body frozen, one hand still holding a spoon dripping with jam. He shrugged. "Well, you always said that as a Dragonchild, I'd probably wind up 'seized by wanderlust' some day, wanting to explore the world..." he said, sounding rather snide. "And I think I'm feeling that wanderlust right now. I've already got my armor, after all, so I'll be fine." His father, brow furrowed, raised his head to take a better look at the stubborn line of his son's jaw. "I arranged that armor for you so that you could grow accustomed to it and learn how to use it well before it was time for you to leave..." Lord Blake rumbled. "You have no weapon yet, for that matter - I had planned to gift you that when you turned fourteen."

Jet just shrugged again, looking away, refusing to meet his father's eyes. "Yeah, well, everyone's gotta choose what path to follow for themselves, right? And I'm choosing to leave now, and not in two or four or six years of whatever. I don't need a weapon, anyway - I can fight just fine with my hands, and if I really need a sword or something, I can probably find one out there." He gestured sharply towards the wide portal that led out to the balcony, and by extension, to the world beyond the Utopia's borders.

Lord Blake opened and closed his great jaws. Then he sighed. "If that truly is the choice you have made... then I have no right to contradict you." He said sadly, shaking his head. Lady Anitra looked up at him in astonishment, then back to her son - before discarding the jam-spoon and jumping up to approach him. "Please, Jet..." she said pleadingly. "You're still so young! Surely, the wanderlust can't be that strong yet! Just stay a few more years - there's so much more for you to learn!" As she approached him, however, he grimaced and took a step back, as if wanting to avoid the embrace that would inevitably happen if she got within arm's reach of him.

His eyes, then strayed to Mel - who shrank away from the pain in them, yet refused to look away - and then jumped to his father again. He shook his head slowly, holding out his hands to continue warding off his mother. "No. I'm going. That's what I've chosen. I can't stay here any longer..." he said heavily. "I'm leaving this afternoon. I just came back to get my armor and grab a few other things." The message was abundantly clear, at least to Mel. He couldn't stomach staying there to watch her serve his father instead of him. Even after everything she'd said, he still couldn't handle it - couldn't handle her 'leaving' him, even if it was just in that one sense.

So Lady Anitra's pleas fell on deaf ears, and Lord Blake refused to say another thing about the matter - he only gestured towards the store-room where Jet's armor had been placed after his birthday earlier that week. "The armor is yours, of course, to use as you wish." He said heavily. "Make sure you grab some gold and gems for traveling-expenses, too - you'll need 'money' in the outside world." Jet just nodded, once again refusing to meet his father's eyes. He'd probably learned all about how 'money' worked outside of the Utopia during his academic lessons, Mel figured -she certainly had, though she was likely to have rather less use for that knowledge than he did.

As he had declared it, so it was. There was no time to arrange some grand send-off, or any other significant gifts. Lord Blake, Lady Anitra, auntie Direza, Mel and her mother simply assembled at the Great Bridge to watch Jet march steadily across it, towards the winding path that descended from the crater's rim to the Caravansary below, where he would likely be able to convince one of the caravaneers to let him ride along to the outside world. His dragonscale armor glimmered in the afternoon sunlight, and a sturdy, well-crafted leather backpack hung on his back - filled with preserved food and basic supplies, all courtesy of the Utopia's fine craftsmen, as well as heavy pouches of gold and platinum coins and small gemstones alike, all useful tender in the outside world.

Their eyes followed him as he walked steadily across the great, arching span of the bridge, passing merchants and Equus laborers stepping aside for him, their eyes wide, recognizing him as someone who _had_to be terribly important, even if they didn't actually knew exactly who he was. Then he reached the end of it, and disappeared beneath the crater-rim, never having looked back. Lord Blake sighed, shaking his head. "I must admire the boy's determination, at the very least..." he rumbled sadly, while Lady Anitra wiped naked tears from her face. "But he's so young... going out there alone is far too foolhardy..." she protested, but Lord Blake just shrugged. "It is in the nature of young people, of whatever race, to be foolhardy. Perhaps there are important lessons that only foolhardiness can teach."

And with that, they returned to the Champion's Quarters, and the day continued to snail past. As the sun approached the horizon, however, Mel's heart began to beat faster. Finally, when it was fully dark, Lady Anitra left, stating that she would go visit some of her 'sisters' - with no word on whether she intended to work up a sweat in a sparring-match, an intense lovemaking-session, or just settle in for a chat with a sympathetic soul. Melora and Direza followed suit shortly afterwards, on the Master's order. "I hear you had to call in your friend, Gisela, to teach your daughter the more complex parts of cunnilingus..." he rumbled at Melora, one eyebrow quirked. "Seems there's an unfortunate gap in your education there. I do not know when I may require you to put your tongue to such use, but I expect you to be ready when it happens! Now, my dear wife has graciously lent me Direza for the night, so why don't you two run off to some suitably private space, and get some real training in, hmm? I expect she can show you a fair few tricks."

Thus, the two servants left, to spend the night in a sapphic and hopefully educational entanglement in one of the Utopia's many secluded corners - leaving Mel alone with Lord Blake in a room that suddenly seemed very big and very empty. When, a few minutes later, he called for her, she stood before him with a shiver in her limbs that she couldn't quite repress - clad in the 'outfit' that her mother had given her years earlier, most of which still fit, though the dresses that went with it mostly didn't. Stockings, gloves, choker, bows... her mane and tail neatly combed and styled, her coat freshly washed. Still, it felt entirely insufficient.

Barely managing to keep herself from hyperventilating as she felt Lord Blake's eyes on her, she struggled to remember the lessons she had learned. The decorations she wore were only half of it - she had to maintain the right poise too! Head demurely bowed, yes... legs slightly spread, hands clasped behind her back, pushing her chest and groin subtly outwards. Show off her still-growing chest, and the well-trained slit between her legs, complete with the thickening bush of blond hair above it. Her mother kept hers carefully trimmed, but Jet had liked it, so she'd kept hers - now, presumably, it would be Lord Blake's choice whether that remained so. Her tail kept raised, though there was no-one behind her to see the curvaceous rear it presented - the fact that it was raised, and the readiness this symbolized, would be visible from the front too.

Lord Blake sighed. "You seem unduly frightened, Young Mel..." he said soothingly. "Surely, after growing up in my home, you do not fear me?" Swallowing, she sharply shook her head, still keeping her eyes suitably downcast, seeing only his lower body as he rested upon his 'nest' - a grand, circular bed sewn together from the striped, spotted and plain furs of many different jungle-beasts, and stuffed with something delightfully soft. "Of course not, Lord Blake..." she declared, though her voice still wavered. He sighed again. "Why, then? Please, talk to me. On this day, on this night, you are no longer in my son's service, nor have you entered mine yet. You are a free mare, and have every right to speak your mind. If you have any misgivings or uncertainties, then voice them."

She could not help but to wince. Throughout the day, she had hoped that she wouldn't have to actually say it aloud, that she'd just be able to tough it out and wait for the feeling to fade. Still, he had asked... and even said 'please', something she felt faintly certain he had never said to her mother. Taking a deep breath, trying to force her mind and body alike to calm itself, if only for a little while, she hesitantly raised her eyes to meet his - letting him see the faint shimmer of unshed tears in the corners of hers. "Lord Blake..." she started, and found that her voice indeed had managed to steady itself. "I am afraid because... it is my fault that your son has left. I know how much you love him. I worry that you are taking me into your service in spite of this, only because of your promise to my mother."

It sounded even worse out loud than it had in the silence of her own mind, and she quickly clamped her teeth back together, lest he see her jaw begin to tremble again. Still... she could see his eyes now, and the look in them wasn't recognition, or resignation, but surprise. Then he chuckled, a strangely warm sound coming from such a great and majestic beast. "It is not your fault that my son has left, Young Mel. The only one at fault for that boy's decision, is the lad himself." He shook his head sadly, and now there was pain in those eyes too - at the very least, she hadn't been wrong about how much he loved his son. "I saw it coming, of course. I could tell that the two of you just didn't... click, even if_he_ didn't. He's young, still - impertinent, intemperate, willful, and perhaps a touch spoiled. I've been all those things in my time too - except, perhaps, spoiled." A slight smile creased his muzzle, now, chasing away some of the lingering pain in his eyes.

"You truly feared I would blame you for what happened, if only silently?" He then asked, sounding somewhat perplexed, though fortunately it did not seem as if he actually expected her to reply. "What else could you have done, really? Swearing yourself into his service for the rest of your life, continuing this charade of the last few years where you pretend to be happy with how he treats you while secretly getting your needs met elsewhere? Pah! Ridiculous. Even HE would have realized it eventually, and the fallout would have been much worse then. Better that he learn the lesson now, even if he must seek a different school for it..."

Raising one claw, Lord Blake stroked his chin thoughtfully - then smiled, somewhat mischievously. "Besides, it's not like he's beyond our reach. He left before he could truly learn of all that his armor has to offer. Among the enchantments woven into it is a potent tracking-spell that will let us easily keep abreast of his movements, wherever he may go. Tomorrow, I'll make arrangements to keep Rakshasa agents shadowing his every move, ready to report to me if he's heading into more danger than he seems likely to be able to handle. He probably doesn't_want_ my help right now, but that just means I'll have to give it... quietly."

Mel felt herself relax as he talked, his deep, rumbling voice strangely soothing - and at the last bit, she couldn't help but smile. It wasn't as if she was all that concerned about Jet, really - she still remembered how he'd taken down a fully-grown stallion with his bare hands, years earlier, and he'd put on a lot of height and muscle since then. But knowing that his parents would continue to watch over him, if only from afar, still made her feel better. There were threats out there that couldn't be solved with a fist to the face, no matter how strong the arm behind it - she knew that much already - and such things might trouble him far more than any hungry beast or opportunistic bandit.

Apparently noticing her improved mood, Lord Blake quirked another, somewhat_different_ smile and returned his full attention to her. "So, I trust that matter is thereby settled... have you any other misgivings you wish to air before we proceed?" He asked, one scaly eyebrow raised. She quickly shook her head. "No, My Lord. I am ready." She was, too - her heart had slowed to a manageable pace, and though she still felt excited, it wasn't to such a degree that she couldn't think straight. Her voice, too, had stabilized, and sounded suitably clean and even.

Lord Blake nodded. "Then by all means, let us proceed to the vows. I trust you understand, however, that this will be a somewhat different_arrangement than what you had with my son. Your servitude will not be for some set number of years, but for _life." Mel's smile widened at that, and she eagerly nodded. "I understand, My Lord. I am ready." She did indeed. She had grown up watching her mother and Lord Blake together, and understood what the vow she was about to make truly meant.

She would be binding herself, not to a contract of servitude, but to a life of slavery. She would become his property, more than just his servant. She would be giving up all freedom of choice, all independence, and all recourse she might have had, in order to bind_her_ life to his. And yet, she also understood that if she ever found herself regretting that decision, and souring on the life it would bring her, she could merely ask for her freedom - and receive it. Not because she had any right to it, not because the vow she was about to make wasn't binding, but simply because Lord Blake had no need for unwilling servants.

That idea, however, was distant from her mind right now - a laughably unrealistic future. Kneeling down on the floor before him, she bowed her head and clasped her hand before her bosom as she recited the words she had learned by heart, just for this occasion. "If you would have me, my Lord, I will enter your service and become your property." She declared, her voice low and steady. "I swear to keep your house and obey your orders, to always act in your interest and never my own. I will show you deference and respect in all things, and make myself ever available to you, that you may use my body as you see fit, in whatever way suits your desires. I will seek no pleasure but that which you grant me, and accept any torment at your whim. My body, soul and mind will be yours to do with as you please, and my only purpose will be to please you."

It was a longer and more thorough vow than that which she had given Jet, years earlier - for a longer and more thorough servitude. Lord Blake's reply, however, was - if anything - even shorter than Jet's had been. "I will accept your oath, my Slave..." he rumbled, his voice as serious as she had ever heard it. "Your devotion will not go to waste." That was all of it - there were no promises here, save that he would put her to good use. A lustful shiver went through her as she continued to kneel before her Master. This was as it should be. He owed her no concessions, no thoughtfulness. When he granted it to her anyway, it should be as a_gift_, one she may or may not be worthy of, and not as her _due._Perhaps that was where Jet had gone wrong, right at the start...

"Now rise, and begin your servitude!" He Master's voice called, and she leaped to her hooves, her muscles vibrating with eagerness to obey. Her heart was beating faster again, but not with fear or nervousness this time - only with anticipation. She could feel a coldness on her inner thighs as they grew wet from the lubricant that oozed steadily from her increasingly puffy pussy. The Master had pushed himself upright on his nest, his mighty legs straightened, giving her a view down between them - to where a long, thick bright-red cock, its cone-shaped head glistening with moisture, had emerged from his sheath.

"I trust your mother has prepared you suitably for what that servitude entails?" He rumbled, one eyebrow quirked, and she nodded hungrily, barely able to meet his gaze as her eyes were so inexorably drawn to what waited between his legs. "I have been fully trained, Master. Every part of my body is ready for your use." She replied, her voice thick with lust as she remembered the vigorous and often painful exercises that had ensured this - her mother's deliciously fat cock, various thick and sturdy toys, ruthless metal tools used to forcibly spread her open, and ultimately a muscular arm with a balled fist at the end, pushing deeper inside her than she had thought possible, punching her body into a shape suitable for serving her new Master.

His smile was lustful, though with a delightfully sadistic curl to his lips, as he nodded down towards the space beneath him. "Then get underneath me, my pet. On your back, legs spread - show me how eager you are to receive me!" She obeyed promptly, of course - leaping onto the nest, scrambling across the soft furs, darting between his front legs, then finally rolling over on her back. Her pussy was positioned just before the tapered tip of his heft cock as she spread her thighs, gripping her knees to hold them apart, presenting her body to him - fully grown now, but still maturing here and there.

The massive body that loomed above her began to shift, she found herself reminded - with stark contrast - of her very first time_ wrestling with Jet . Now, though, it was instead his far more imposingly-equipped father, and her virginity was but a distant memory. More importantly, her Master's _presence was on a completely different level - just the sheer mass of scaly muscle that now loomed above her seemed to count as a form of restraint as far as her lust-soaked mind was concerned, weighing down on her with a delicious sense of being a helpless toy in the hands of a vastly more powerful being.

Those hands were not gentle, either. The cock that now forced its way inside her eagerly engorged, dripping-wet pussy was thick as an arm and hard as steel. Her labia were being stretched to the limit, shrieking in steadily-escalating pain at the cone-shaped head gave way to the full girth of his shaft. Deeper inside the pain only grew, along with the resistance of her overstrained body - despite all the lubrication she was contributing, the sheer size of the intrusion ensured that friction remained a very real factor, and now her back was skidding along the soft furs of her Master's nest, propelled solely by the slow, deliberate thrusting of his loins...

Then the scaly chest above her descended, pinning her to the nest, and she slipped no further. Only her head was still free, and only just barely - her muzzle poking out from underneath the immense, black bulk of her draconic owner, while her vision remained blocked by multicolored furs. A gasp was forced from her lungs, as much from the pressure that now flattened her tits and compacted her chest, as from the sheer surging lust that being so effectively restrained by her Master's body alone prompted in her.

She could feel his hips shifting, forcefully, insistently, irresistibly - pushing his cock inexorably inside her immobilized body, forcing more inches of her pussy to stretch to the very breaking-point. Another thrust, and he bottomed out - she could feel his smooth cockhead rubbing against her cervix, sliding over it as it pushed against the elastic tissues that functioned as the back wall of her young slit. The protesting screams of her overextended muscles, however, sounded just like cries of joy and ecstasy to her increasingly foggy mind... and as her Master began to fuck her for the first time ever, she climaxed for the first time that night. The first, but certainly not the last, on both counts.

The pain in her overstrained pussy receded only slowly and marginally as he continued to pound her - her body was getting used to his girth, but with her labia stretched like a taut elastic-band around his shaft, there was only room for so much 'getting used to'. At the same time, the vicious force of the thrusts was spreading a dull pain deeper inside her, as her internal tissue was battered and bruised. Overall, thus, the level of discomfort she was suffering wasn't decreasing at all - and neither was the masochistic pleasure she derived from it. Trapped as she was underneath her Master's scaly bulk, her legs pushed painfully far apart, the sense of confinement only heightened her ecstasy, ensuring that she barely sensed any real drop from the climactic peaks of her first orgasm - instead floating high on a plateau of visceral pleasure, gasping for air, mind overwhelmed by sensation. Soon, she was climbing towards a second orgasm, hardly able to tell the difference.

A short while later, however, she did notice when Blake reached_his_ orgasm - not just from the sweet sensation of thick, hot cum pumping into her womb, but also from the suddenly-spiking pain as the ejaculation forced her vaginal tissue to stretched just a little_bit further, in order to let it flow back along the shaft and seep out of the thoroughly full orifice. There was nowhere else for it to go, after all - her belly could not expand noticeably outwards with her Master's bulk resting so heavily atop it! Fortunately, the lengthy battering had strained and stretched her pussy enough that it could manage that little bit of extra expansion... but only _just.

Mel's mother had taught her well, fortunately - ever since that first, harsh lesson that had torn open her tailhole. She'd practiced it several times afterwards, too - learning how to tell, even through a haze of pleasure and pain, when her body was just hurting, and when it was being genuinely damaged. Thus, at that point, a small, well-trained part of her mind assessed the sensations radiating out from her agonized groin, and happily reported that there was no actual tearing. It was close, razor-close, but she was enduring. There was no need for her to overcome her natural inclination and call out a plea to her Master, begging him to stop before he worsened the damage - as would have been her duty_otherwise, Melora had drilled into her head. She needed to keep herself healthy and whole so that she could continue to serve her Master for many years to come - and ensure that if he did her serious harm, it was _knowingly and not by accident.

With this important fact ascertained, she could surrender fully to the flow of sensation, wallowing in the surging ecstasy. Not just from the hot mixture of pain and pleasure that was being poured into her, not just from the sense of confinement, but also from the sense of absolute submission that sprung from the realization that _his_orgasmic pleasure was the source of her agony. A more perfect representation of the intersection between sadism and masochism would be hard to find... and the orgasm that now swept through her trembling body dwarfed all others she had experienced in her short life.

By the time she was aware of the world around her again, her pussy gaped empty, cool air flowing inside to caress the cum-soaked inner surfaces while the agonized muscles struggled to pull it back into shape. The Master had lifted himself off of her for now, leaving her able to look down her body at the pool of cum that had grown between her still widely-splayed legs, completely soaking her tail. Already, though, it was shrinking, drained away by the handy cleaning-enchantments layered into the nest's carved basalt foundation.

"A nice appetizer, my pet... but nothing more." She heard her newly-minted Master rumble from above, sounding only marginally winded. "The main course waits beneath your tail. I do hope you're ready - I intend to get my entire shaft wet and warmed tonight. Now roll over on your hands and knees... and lift that tail for me." With a shudder of renewed desire, she complied - glancing down as she did so, to see her Master's cock still waiting hard and hungrily behind her. A glistening wetness showed how deep he'd gone in her pussy - barely two thirds of his full length. Her mother had warned her of this, of course - and that was why her ass had been such a major focus in her training. Hopefully, she had trained hard enough.

Her tail made a slimy splat as she swung it up, hitting her back and sticking there, soaked as it was with thick cum. Her knees sank into the furs, suitably spread, while her hands grasped the edge of the nest. The toned muscle of her arms were the result of years of harsh physical exercise - and while part of the point of that training being able to wield the glaive her mother had gifted her, so that she might protect her Master and the Lady Anitra if it came down to it, it had mostly been for this: Being able to hold her body steady against the Master's powerful thrusts.

She could feel his tapered cockhead nudging against her tailhole now. Like with the first time her mother had taken her ass, there would be no preparation, no gradual loosening as her sphincter was allowed to grow accustomed to the strain. The tiny orifice would simply be forced to stretch to a diameter bigger than her arm over the next few seconds. Even as this stretching began, however - with the very tip of his cock pushing its way inside as she struggled to relax her anal muscles in spite of her excitement - a distraction appeared.

Her Master's handsome, draconic head appeared before her, courtesy of his long, dexterous, snakelike neck. His lustful grin and the hungry look in his eyes made her heart skip a beat - it was a reminder that she had just given herself to someone who would use all she had to offer and then some, pushing her to heights she could never have reached on her own. Then that face tipped sideways and got closer and closer as her eyes widened - and her lips parted, whetted by her eager tongue.

She felt his dry, scaly lips against her own - his long, serpentine tongue dashing inside her mouth, dancing around there, even pushing down the back of her throat. It was an intense, proprietary kiss, meant to remind her that her mouth, like the rest of her body, belonged to him now. Eyes rolling back in her head, she returned the sentiment with passion, letting her broad, equine tongue rub along his fangs, cleaning them of the remnants of his last meal, demonstrating her eagerness to serve him in every possible way.

Focused as she was on their entangled tongues, she hardly noticed the steadily-increasing pain in her rear or the trembling of her arms as she continued to hold herself steady against the insistent push of his cock. In truth, Blake was as gentle as the circumstances would allow - which, all said, might actually be the thing he sought to distract her from with the kiss. Rather than use quick, powerful thrusts to instantly force apart her buttocks and stretch her innards, he applied a steady pressure, letting his cone-shaped cockhead work her tail-hole open - stretching out the moment of penetration for more than a minute, and possibly preventing a fresh tearing of her sphincter.

Once his cockhead was fully inside, however - her asshole stretched tautly around it, vise-tight but still intact - he was all done holding back. With repeated forwards jerks of his hips, he swiftly pushed deeper inside her warm body - fighting against intense friction, his progress lubricated only by the remnants of her pussy-juice and a fresh influx of blood. There were no major tears, sure, but his sheer size ensured that many of the tiny capillaries lining her large intestine burst under the stress, helping the thick invader along in the process...

Mel's head was swimming with the sensation - the delicious pain of her ass being stretched to the very limit, the heat radiating off her Master's huge cock, the feeling of more and more of her body being filled with him. She'd undergone harsh training for this moment - had her intestines straightened and her inner tissue hardened through hours of ruthless pounding, just so she'd be able to do this. Her mother had confessed to her that the first time she had met her - now their- Master, she'd been unable to fully accommodate him - even with her ass torn and bloodied, strained to the limit and beyond, she'd been a couple of inches shy of taking his full length. She was determined that her daughter would do better.

And indeed, she did. A final jerky thrust, and he was inside her to the very root, his scaly hips grinding against her buttocks. She could feel his cockhead pushing against her skin, creating a bump on her right flank, right beneath her tits as the curvature of her intestines forced him sideways. She couldn't have taken even half an inch more - she was stretched to the very limit, lengthwise as well as in terms of girth, her whole body seemingly no more than a limbed vessel for his cock now.

It was difficult to breathe as he rested, then, fully impaling her but not yet moving. The burning agony that had spread so deeply inside her body as her intestines were stretched to the very limit, surrounding tissue and organs compacted or pushed aside, was a part of that - as was the fact that her abdominal muscles had been partially deformed on the right, making it hard for one of her lungs to function properly. One additional factor, however, disappeared as Blake finally broke the lengthy kiss, pulling his muzzle away to let her pant freely as he chuckled.

"Very impressive, my pet..." he whispered at her. "Now let us get you suitably fastened for the ride..." A bridle-gag hovered into view, surrounded by a vague, purple glow, and as she obediently leaned into it, it strapped itself to her face in an impressive display of telekinetic precision. It had a large, hard ball at its center instead of a bit, filling and blocking her mouth - albeit with a hole drilled through the center to let her breath whistle through - and with the leather strap around her muzzle keeping it closed and the one behind her neck keeping it on tightly, she had been well and truly silenced.

It was only the beginning. Her face was resting on the nest now, her arms no longer supporting her but instead bound behind her back as steel manacles floated into place and locked themselves around her wrist. A spreader-bar attached itself to her knees, keeping them where they were, and chains stretched out from it to connect to her nipples by way of a pair of cruel clamps, effectively forcing her to keep her still-impaled ass raised. Additional restraints locked into place around her ankles, seemingly attaching directly to the fuzzy surface of the nest, and finally a steel collar closed around her neck and did the same, keeping her solidly stationary. A sigh blew through the hole in her gag as she felt herself relax into the bonds despite the continued, agonizing throbbing of her overfilled anus. She no longer needed to worry about keeping herself upright and supporting herself with her arms, nor did she need to maintain enough consciousness to tell her Master if she was sustaining severe damage. She was completely helpless now, entirely in his hands, and all she could do - all she_needed_ to do - was to enjoy the brutal torment that was about to begin.

And brutal it was, as, at long last, the real fucking began - the gigantic cock that had filled her body to capacity moving in long, smooth, powerful strokes, pouring two solid feet of steel-hard, arm-thick meat inside her with every thrust. Each one was slammed all the way home, right to the root, sending a shockwave through her trussed-up body along with a wave of renewed pain. No toy-fucking, no rough fisting from her mother, had fully prepared her for what it would feel like to have her body invaded by such a massive member - how much it would just plain hurt and continue to hurt _more_as her insides were continuously battered and strained.

But that pain, to her, was nothing but ecstasy. Within a dozen strokes, she was cumming - her pussy, completely deformed by her vastly expanded asshole but still gaping a bit after its earlier use, spraying hot juices onto the fur-covered nest. More climaxes soon followed, and she merrily let them carry her away, buoyed by the sure knowledge that she had chosen the right path. This was the life she wanted, the future she desired - she could think of no better place to spend the scant few decades of life that an Equus like her was granted than right here, helplessly bound beneath her awe-inspiring Master's powerful body as he pleasured himself with her battered and agonized flesh.

It would only be later, when she was recovering from the ordeal of her first night with her Master, that she'd realize that he hadn't really_gone all out on her. That he had, in fact, held back, rather than pounding her with his full strength - sensing, clearly, that she'd been pushed to the very limit by his size alone, and not wanting to hurt her. This realization would only galvanize her determination, however - giving her further proof of her Master's kindness, and a goal to work towards. She wanted to feel his _full strength shake her bones, the same way he shook her mother's - she wanted to_prove_ to him that she could handle everything he could do to her.

All that was for later, though. In that moment, there was only the bottomless pleasure, the endless orgasms, and the waves of continuous pain as her tail-hole was methodically destroyed by a cock far larger than her body had really been built for - ultimately reducing it to a gaping crater, slowly oozing blood-tinted cum from two separate draconic orgasms, when Blake finally pulled out. Her eyes struggled to focus as his face once again appeared before her, and his deep, rumbling voice sounded strangely distant. "Most pleasurable, my pet... but I've got a bit more left in me still. So let's get that bridle off of you for now - I think I'd enjoy testing out that young throat of yours, what with your mother's thoughtful gift yesterday."

The first words out of her mouth, once the gag had been pulled away, were spoken with a tone of wonderment - as if she still couldn't quite believe that she could get away with saying it. "Yes... Master..."

THE END