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Punished for Her Pleasure

Part Six

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by anonymous

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Continued from part five...

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Night must have fallen. He assumed so, at least, making up his passage of time as his gut filled a third of the playroom, which had been expanded for their pleasure, even if the height of the room was still the same. It allowed more room for his belly to grow, shoving the tub from earlier out of the way too, though she must have had so very many guests to get him that fat and lumpy with scat, the drinks flowing freely as it went straight through the ponies enjoying the party.

Mistress Shy growled under her breath as she came back down the stairs, grabbing a whip - and a crop too! Something laced her that was not pure anger, but something that could only be unleashed when her pet was in such a state, even though he'd been forced to take every drop of filth into his gut since she had rammed the hose into his throat.

"Mmmph!"

"You're my, pet!" She hissed, fury ringing through her as she beat him, lancing strikes of pain flaring up. "You embarrassed me! Think of how that made me look to my friends and my guests! That little stunt of yours!"

He howled, though he could hardly hear her, not over the pain blistering his body, hot, red lines of welts rising on his flesh. She could not focus on his backside, even as she poured pent-up frustration out on his body, Arctic taking it all, the ropes stinging the most where the rough material was dragged over flesh that was even rawer.

"Fight me again and there will be hell to pay! I'll see you servicing every filthy monster in Tartarus if there is anything like this ever again!"

He believed her. He could not think otherwise, sweating heavily, mixing with the scat on his coat that had been drying steadily, yet could not remain such for so long. His humiliation and abuse was not to be something that would be forgotten too easily, not as she layered his thighs with strikes of the whips, swapping between the crop and the cane for usability. It was easier to hold them like that as he grunted through it, gasping through his nostrils, though it was rendered worse still as more waste poured down his throat than ever.

His throat bulged, stomach gurgling, though he had to do what he could, bearing through it with short, sharp pants of breath even as the pain did its very best to claim him. In a way, he knew he could not give in to it, for that was not the sort of pet that she wanted him to be, even if he was being punished. She didn't need a mindless pony to abuse but one with a mind, one that challenged her.

That was why she was punishing him really. It was to put him back in his place but not to break his mind, not entirely.

His coat darkened with sweat, mixing with dried piss and scat, though she was not concerned about that. No, the red lines on his hide would heal in time even as his body strained to encompass too much stimulus all at once, pain ringing through, though it was funny how that no longer felt like the main thing he could focus on anymore. The pain was constant, but the churning of his belly was not, lumpy and squashy, malleable if a certain pony chose to dig their hooves into it.

The hose slipped from his mouth, though not for long, Mistress Shy only needing to get him back into the cage. It was a good thing she was larger for that moment, having driven the "lesson" into her slave, shoving and heaving him back into his cage, his sweaty hide bringing a rise of disgust to her lips.

"Ergh! You'll pay for getting my coat dirty, pet!"

It was to be expected, but that did not mean that she had to allow it. She had to squash and squeeze him into the cage face-first, facing the back of it, though he still had half a view of the playroom. Arctic whined, but it was not to change as she crammed him in, giving his fat nuts a good shove too, making sure that the cage door would close. The squeeze of his stomach, however, would not make it comfortable for him, his back pressed up closer to the top of the cage, his belly squashing in on itself, squeezing out against the bars of the cage and bulging through.

Where it could be compressed, it was, leaving logs of lumpy scat pushing out, hard and heavy in such a way that he had never felt. He groaned, nose tipping down, though Mistress Shy did not want to let a drop of scat go to waste, her toilet still needing use from the guests who remained, ramming the hose back into his throat to make sure there was no extra mess. Thankfully, that was on the cage side of the playroom, easily able to keep his muzzle occupied while she locked the cage and sealed up the plastic once more.

Lumps of scat flowed down his throat, funnelled by more watery piss, and he groaned, moisture edging his eyes. But he could not do anything about it as she pressed her tail hole back up to the valve, dousing him in yet another blast of smelly smog, the heat of it closing in around him, practically choking him. He couldn't even part his lips for relief, the hose gagging him as leftover waste was funnelled into his churning, bulging gut. How much room would be left in the cage for him while he bloated? How much could his lumpy gut squeeze through the bars, offering him just a little more room to go? A cage that had once been roomy, if humiliating, now closed in on all sides, blocking him in, his cock tweaking with throbs of arousal, lost in a smoggy moment of his mistress' design.

Stained with piss and scat, every inch of him reeked of what he was. No waste escaped from his muzzle as it was pumped into him, though Arctic whimpered, hardly able to sleep, to rest, to breathe easily, tears streaming down his cheeks. Those tears were not from upset, however, too many things pressing in around him all at once, the smog of her backside filtering into every last corner of his body.

He grunted, heaving, guts gurgling. He should not have been able to sleep with the hose in his throat, a little more scat filtering into him before the ponies above went to sleep, his body trying to process it... No, instead, he drifted into a state between wakefulness and sleep, murmuring mutely to himself, his hide ringing through with pain and the memory of it. Sometimes, Arctic did not know which was worse.

It couldn't get worse...right?

*

But that was not for him to say. He'd deliberately given up control of every bit of his life to Mistress Shy for a reason and did not know what time of day or night it was when the red light of the playroom flicked back on, illuminating his horror. He blinked blearily, dimly aware of the pain in his gut, the feel of too much scat filling him, though the roof of the cage... It seemed to have been lifted? In his half-slumber, the bars had extended up into the wasted space above the cage, where his mistress had sat before on top of the plastic box to pour her smog into the cage, gagging and choking him.

It allowed him more space, though his hooves dangled, helpless, resting entirely on his belly. His front end was tipped up a little more than his back, but that was just how his stomach had settled, his coat dryer and stained, marked with piss, the yellow and green stains driven deeply into his coat. Yet the pony that walked down the stairs was not alone, Mistress Shy joined by Nurse Redheart, who went by Red in private, and Tempest too, the other ponies smirking as if they were in on a joke that Arctic would not understand the background of.

They were as large as Mistress Shy too, Tempest's mane styled up in slashing shades of daredevil pink, Red relaxing in her off-time, though she was not so much of a healer when she was down with Fluttershy and Arctic.

"Hello, Arctic."

Tempest smirked, lips quirking, her tail lifted to show him her marehood, though it was blurred through the plastic screen.

"I thought I'd let you see what you're missing out on... Your mistress says you have a cock that can please big mares. A shame that you'll never get to use it with us, not like that."

She showed off her marehood to him, winking and flexing lightly, though it was no use. Arctic knew that he was only there to be used, outmatched and outclassed in every way. Red turned his heart over as his gut gurgled, though not even he could have imagined just what the both of them brought for him.

They were huge, terrifying, dominating, all three of them grinding their rumps back against the plastic, showing off, letting him see the round holes of their tail-stars, tails pushed up out of the way. They could have turned him on and they did - but all of that came with a dose of fear that he could not have anticipated, all for the divinity of his final punishment.

It was a pleasure, to serve, yet they were there to make it not so, magic infusing him, though the hose in his mouth was dragged out, leaving him free to whimper and gasp and hack and cough, if only for a moment. It was for a reason as they all took a valve each, making sure that he didn't want to take any drop of air into his lungs as he heaved for breath, all releasing the gas of their bowels with rippling, blasting farts.

The breaking of their wind blasted into the box, his skin tingling, though there was nowhere for him to go. He had to heave and hack and gag, snorting and bellowing, trying to cry out for mercy that simply was not coming for him.

"Envelop him!"

"Make him take everything!"

He didn't know why his guts gurgled so much, waste striving to work its way through his system, but he could not take everything in, not all at once, his belly straining to relieve itself of what had been so viciously forced into him. Arctic panted and would have staggered if he'd been at all mobile, his belly squashing out, helplessly waving his hooves as the air that he was forced to breathe was the least fresh that it had ever been, assaulting his nostrils.

What he did not know was that there was a spell on him - two, in fact. Tempest wrapped him up in magic to make him produce more and more waste, something that, under normal circumstances, could have been used as a rather mean prank. Red, however... She had one she could carry around with her, a little potion that infused the air inside the box with him when she emptied it into the valve. That potion was a laxative, used for medicine most often, but one that could be put to devious means.

However, the mares had excellent control over their spells and Red's knowledge of how the laxative worked. In using their wicked ploys on themselves too, they set their bodies rumbling, producing more and more scat, even if there was a little discomfort there. Where the laxative would ensure that everything that was produced flowed freely and easily from them, maybe even with a little more mess at play, Tempest's spell would ensure that they would never run out. Mistress Shy's toilet slave hadn't known the meaning of the term before, his body rumbling with tentative, churning desire despite the humiliation and debasement of it all.

Both spells infused Arctic, working away at him even as he heaved, panting and thrusting, moaning, whimpering, trying to come to a moment that he could hold onto even then. He squirmed and wriggled to the limits of his movement, though it was not as easy as that, belly lumpy with scat, taking in sordid breath after breath, infused through and through with waste and filth.

Tempest groaned, her guts already rumbling with the effects of her spell, though Arctic was not to know what was in store for him there, desire coursing through. Red was no better, a wicked grin on her lips. Oh, it was so little that she got to cut loose, using a toilet slave like Arctic was better than any spa day for relaxing! The laxative worked away inside her, her body responding, though while she would be able to duly relieve herself, it would be humiliating for Arctic, trapped and abused, punished as Mistress Shy had asked him to be.

It was funny how the same effect could be applied to such different purposes...

"Make an example of him."

Mistress Shy loomed.

"He'll never disobey me ever again."

He could not remember disobeying her, could not remember everything, broken in subservience, moaning and grunting, helpless to her whims. Everything had to be borne through, even as the cage door unlocked, Mistress Shy grabbing his dangling leash, dragging him out of the cage without ceremony, even though he reeked through and through. He had to try to drag himself along, on his back legs to push his rolling mass of a stomach out, expanding more comfortably once he was not resting on it and out of the cage. It had not gotten smaller, not at all, but his body, out there, was for them to play with.

He was forced onto his back, but they did not need to bind him, not when his stomach ensured that the limits of any movement would render him bound in place by his own body, a beautifully filthy manner of restraint. It was as it was supposed to be, even if he had no say in it, his guts gurgling, trying to force out the waste inside him even if the large plug under his tail ensured that it had nowhere to go.

But a rump shoved into his face removed the need for a hose at all, a tail hole crammed into his mouth as Tempest released her bowels messily.

"Ohhh... Yes."

She had to have needed that, even though it was not for him to say as watery scat flooded his mouth. He swallowed, a broken slut, taking it down, panting and grunting, heaving for a clean breath of air. There was none to come, however, not for a filthy slut of a pony, his stomach gurgling, bulging, scat moving above inside where his body could not even hope to digest what had already been partially digested.

What was he supposed to do? Oh, there was no point in even considering that, not when there was so much at stake, whimpering, whining, his nostrils fluttering as he took in the reek of her tail hole. Tempest pulled back only to release a blast of putrid air right in his face, dousing his muzzle and mane in it, showing him just why even she was the bigger and better mare, the dominant that Mistress Shy had chosen to bring in, all to debase him even further.

The ring around his cock was loosened, allowing it to be tightened again at a moment's notice, allowing something to enter his cock even if they would not allow him to ejaculate. The overstimulated Arctic was not even sure that it would be possible for him to release any cum in his nuts, for that was not the matter of his punishment. Why allow a slut like him any kind of release when he could be filled and filled?

Red took her place at his cock, larger than him, grinding back onto it in a tease at anal play, though not of any kind that he was going to be found enjoying, not by a long shot. He didn't have to experience pleasure for them to have their way with him, Red releasing her bowels into his cock, scat worming its way down, squeezing its way into the urethra. It was coming, whether he liked it or not, squeezing straight down into his nuts, inflating them quickly and easily.

They must have had more in them, like Mistress Shy, because they were larger, but that was not a thought that he could cling to for very long at all. Not with so many sensations clouding in on one another, pressing in from all sides, scat pushing down his cock in a lumpy bulge, showing its passage. Whether it was logs or round droppings or something else entirely could not be felt in detail in a moment like that, Arctic merely trying to bear through as his cock and his mouth were both filled with so much scat that it was hard to think of anything else.

Toilet pony.

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Bathroom slut.

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Piss whore.

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He was all of that and so much more, words that had been said, time after time again, resounding around his head, seeming to bounce off the inside of his skull. It was something that he wanted to follow the lines of but could not, his throat bulging, gulping, swallowing, doing it all automatically. That did not mean that he could slip away from the taste of it around his tongue, clinging to the insides of his mouth, not even able to lick it away, as there was another load and another log to take the place of all that had gone before the moment it went down his throat.

Red moved away and he wanted to think that he recognised the feel of his mistress' tail hole around his cock, how his length teased halfway into her, though she grunted at the strain. It was easier for her to take him, after so much time together, though it was still not easy - and she was larger, making it a good fit, even if not one that would stretch her by any means to her limits. She released into him, scat pushing forth, lump after lump, grinding down his cock, swelling it wide as his belly bloated out and out and out. He was huge, so huge, yet his nuts had a way to go yet, scat filling the space that his seed did not take as he groaned deep in the back of his throat.

He did not take pleasure from everything they were doing to him, not even if he wanted to serve, to be submissive and subservient to the mares who dominated him. Everyone took turns on him, Red swapping to his muzzle while Tempest took his cock, the largest of them all as his cock throbbed, driving down on it, her guts gurgling.

They doused him in smog too, not holding back in the slightest. They had to use a spell to keep it out of their coats, but Tempest could easily take care of that, her horn glowing and crackling, spitting off sparks. Her strong legs helped her bear back onto that massive cock, neighing stringently through a powerful orgasm, everything more than she could hold in the moment. She didn't have to hold back, not even as she kicked out, filth barrelling from her backside, inflating his nuts, the churning, throbbing orbs so thick and full that they felt as if they were about to burst, the skin strained more than simply taut with scat and waste.

The restraint in his stomach that had been present in the cage overnight no longer was present. With so much scat filling him, it was free to grow out and out, his guts strained and gurgling while his body tried and failed to process it. The plug under his wiggling tail stopped him from excreting a single drop of it, though he could not help the strain, the want to force it out, even then.

A shit sack. That was all he was, bloated and stuffed, heaving and gurgling, his guts churning. He groaned and moaned, though none of it was from any kind of pleasure or arousal, even with his cock hard in a pony's backside. Who was on his cock? He could not tell, not as his balls fattened, his stomach billowing out, growing from wall to wall, spreading out to fill every inch of the room.

They turned him onto his stomach so that they could use him more easily, otherwise, Arctic's mouth and cock may have been lost under his belly if he was left lying on his back. He squealed, balanced on his hind hooves, pressing back towards the cage, though he had to find some space to move into, even in such a state. The most he could do, however, was direct the mass and might of his stomach, heaving and gurgling, waste roiling and twisting within him as thick ropes of it curled into his gut.

How much could they all have inside them? His belly strained, wanting to relieve itself, yet it was coming and coming, even though he could not understand the mass of it, the enormity of what his mistress was having done to him. Arctic's nuts churned with seed and scat, though he wondered, dimly, if anything more would be pumped into him, his cock hard through it all as his mistress loomed into his vision.

"You'll never disobey again, my little pet."

No. No, he would not. At least, that was what he thought, what he wanted. He would never be able to tell just what his mistress had in store for him, everything that she wanted him to do, breaking him down, more and more.

He had no say in that, like he had no say in anything else. Some things, despite his best intentions, would never change.

"Oh, yes..."

That was Red, the nurse in her off-time enjoying the lack of primness and properness. She did not have to care for Arctic as she took her turn emptying her bowels into his mouth, though she made sure her marehood too pressed to his lips to release a gush of urine. She'd been holding that for too long, legs quivering, yet needed it even more, hooves squishing into his belly as she stood on the shapeless mass of pony to get to his mouth. It was his belly that she stood on, but it was so huge and shapeless that it was hard to even consider it as something attached to Arctic, something he could feel, nuts swelling behind while she made his belly gurgle with piss flowing down his chin, into his mouth.

Arctic tried to swallow. Piss was almost a relief after everything, even though it would be over soon, splattering down his muzzle, the gulping motion of his throat seemingly not enough, not even then. He whimpered, though the sound was lost in the gush of urine, swallowing it down even as she shoved her tail-star straight back into his mouth as soon as she was done, all to relieve what remained in her bowels.

The ponies, however, were not bottomless. There were no magical enhancements, not at that stage, for them to take down, nothing more to keep them excreting. Maybe that would come in time, while they indulged in dirty play and punishment, yet they had needs to meet too as his belly bloated, spreading out and out and out.

The room was only too big and the mass of scat inside him, growing while his body strained to relieve itself and could not, had nowhere to go. His belly bloated and gurgled, pushing him up so close to the ceiling, shoving equipment out of the way in the playroom - so high that the mares could no longer even make use of him! That was something that would not do as Tempest's horn glowed and crackled, teleportation magic wrapping itself around Arctic.

He swore he heard her grunt as one moment his body was in the dungeon and the next they were out in a clearing deep in the forest, somewhere where no ponies would find them. Maybe Tempest and Red were a little more private about dirty play than Fluttershy, but that was not something that was going to matter to Arctic. Very little would.

The tub came along with them and Red chuckled throatily as she lifted it, still filled with scat from earlier, dumping it out over his head while he gasped and heaved and retched as if it all was not something that he was used to. Yet no one could become used to such a thing, not even after going through so much of it, the mares using magic and rubber-clad hooves (socks or similar, he didn't have much time to pay much attention to that) to rub it into his coat.

"Filthy slut..."

Those were his mistress' words and they rolled over him as if he was being bathed in them too, magic plastering his coat in filthy, even while he rolled and groaned, so bloated that he could not move. His legs stuck out oddly, as if they were no longer a part of the heaving mass of his belly, scat logs showing through his stomach, the flesh strained thinly over all that he contained. Not even the piss and toilet water that he had swallowed could even out the shape of so much waste bulging out through him, gas straining into any gaps that were present, making sure that every inch of his gut was filled. He didn't know still why his intestines rumbled and grumbled but the need to excrete was near enough overwhelming, confusing his senses further while he knew that it completely and utterly was nowhere near possible.

Not unless his mistress allowed it. And she never would. Not considering that her filthy pegapet had done so wrong by her, thinking that he could take advantage of her. He shuddered, though his body did not move at all. If only he had not gone so far... Even if she had been the one pushing him there, it had been him that had made the move, who had used his size and strength against her, lust driving through him.

Mistress Shy was not bigger than him, not considering his stomach, but she may as well have been, lumps of scat clinging to his mane and tail, doused in piss, his head shoved into the tub so that he was forced to lick out the bottom. He whimpered, knowing it was no use, Tempest laughing as she joined Red in lifting her tail, about to hose him down with piss.

"Wait!"

Fluttershy smirked, finally waiting by his backside, the plug that had been stretching his backside almost forgotten about - besides the fact that not a lump of waste inside him could squeeze out with it in place, that was. She paused for ceremony with her hoof on it, before ripping it loose, deflating it only enough so that it could come out, though that most certainly was not without a twang of pain. It was gone in a moment, however, as Tempest pressed her backside up to his, a little magic sealing the space between their tail holes, stopping him from letting loose with his bowels as she poured what was left inside her into him.

It had to come, for it was the nature and will of the body to relieve itself of waste. And neither was Arctic in any position to stop it, his belly gurgling, swelling, inflating with more and more scat. It splattered wetly into him, great, wet, lumpy droppings, forced in with a jab and a stab of magic, driven up deep into his guts to make sure that there was no inch of him left that could feel "clean" ever again. Every bit of him was as dirty as his mind was, filthy and whorish, a toilet slave who knew his place.

Red backed up, hosing him down with urine, letting her backside grind back to push against him, smearing it into his fur even as it washed off some scat. That left a "cleaner" space for her and Fluttershy to smear him with scat again, rubbing it into his fur directly from their backends, Mistress Shy's point, finally, well and truly made.

He would never again disobey. Tempest filled him from his backside, the exhausted scat stallion heaving and gulping, a gag shoved into his maw, magically called from the playroom. The ball gag made sure nothing could come back out his mouth, stuffing him from his backside, his fur dark in colour where it had, before, been pale. He was no longer the stallion that he knew, not in any way, shape or form, but he didn't need to be, not at all when he had Mistress Shy to paint him into any being that she wanted him to be.

Ultimately, it was all up to her.

Moaning, he let his head hang, ears submissively splayed out to the sides, whimpering softly as his tail still flagged. It was all that he had the energy and strength for, a tiny, final gesture of submission, acceptance of her rule over him, even as ropes of thick scat wormed their way through his intestines. It all came from the wrong direction, but Tempest crushed her backside up to him until she was devoid of every last lumpy clump of filth, caring not for his pleasure but only for the sweet domination she could take from him, enjoying what had, yet again, been offered to her.

The stench of his coat sunk into his nostrils. It would never again come out, reminding him forever of what happened to pony pet's that did not obey as their mistresses willed them to. Urine trickled down him, Fluttershy massaging filth into his mane, ensuring that it went right down to the roots, his engorged belly painted with splashing of yellow piss. He could only imagine what they had been drinking the night before, the acrid reek searing through him, clinging to him and becoming a part of him even then.

"Have I made my point, pet?"

Her tone jested, but there was a darker undertone to it, a tone of challenge. And a challenge was something that Arctic never again wanted to mount to her, not when the punishment rendered him so.

Filthy, overfilled, bloated... No longer looking anything at all like a stallion. That was her will, the welts of her whips lined across his backside and thighs, wherever she had been able to reach while delivering the pain section of his punishment. Although he had not cum - that was not his right - the cock ring had been locked back around his cock, ensuring that no cum or any scat would leak out, though the head was smeared in brown, as sordid as the pony that that very dick belonged to.

Arctic heaved a sigh, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness.

Being punished for her pleasure had never been meant to be for him.