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Halloween Story: Birth of a Captain

Part 1: Snow Moon (November)

Age Warning:

If there is a country out there where anyone under 18 would be allowed to read a story like this legally, and you unfortunately are both under 18 and live in such a country, please close the browser window and back away slowly, then go beg your family to move to a civilized country J

Seriously, if you are under 18 don't read. It is probably illegal for you to be doing so.

Trigger Warning!:

Non-con, forced sex, kidnapping, slavery, torture, vore, blood, cutting/self-harm... it's all in here along with even creepier things. Here thar be squickies!

Warning:

This is the origin story of my character/fursona Captain Xeno, and as he is a dark and conflicted being, it is a dark and nightmarish story. If you are the squickable sort, please just don't read it. Please understand that as a writer, what I would IMAGINE as the type of scenario that would create a Black Unicorn versus what I would ever actually DO or condone doing in real life are 100% different!

Disclaimer:

Reality is a place where other people have rights & feelings that are just as valid as your own. In reality, no matter what a person does, they never "deserve" to be hurt or controlled by others!

Fantasy is a place where characters who are not real people often act in ways that (hopefully) no real person ever would or should!

If you ever have a difference telling these two things apart (Hint: if you ever have caught yourself thinking things like "she deserved it" or "women have to say no, but secretly they mean yes.") then PLEASE close your browser window and go make an appointment with a therapist or counselor. This story is just not right for you.

I know that 99% of you already know all this and can handle a story like mature adults, but it needs to be said - and if you like the disclaimers, feel free to use them for your own stuff.

***

OK - if anyone is still with me after all that....

Synopsis - (scroll past this part if you just read Ch 1)

Ch. 1 Snow Moon:

The noble unicorn mare Jada had just had her 15th birthday a few short weeks ago, when one chilly November morning her shire mare lady's maid Jeanne noticed the first signs of heat.

Jeanne and Jada had grown up together, with Jeanne being 3 years older. They'd once been like sisters despite the difference in social class between unicorns and "lesser" furs but as Jada aged and became more aware of her social status they'd grown distant as she began to treat Jeanne more and more like the maidservant she is.

When Jeanne, a bisexual with lesbian leanings, noticed Jada's first signs of heat while assisting her to dress one morning, she couldn't resist some sexual play and teasing under the pretense of "checking how far along your heat has come." At first Jada was startled, then willing, but when she slightly tore her hymen by participating too enthusiastically, the haughty young unicorn mare became enraged and used her martial training to punch Jeanne hard enough to knock her down & leave a bruise.

When Jeanne questioned her reaction, Jada explained that she was upset partly because of the sex and her resulting confusion, but also because her first heat was forcing her to grow up too fast & marry the stallion her Lord Father would choose for her - and also explained how upset she was that she didn't even know who he would be. Jada was unable to scry for the answer because she is unable to scry for other magical anthros/animals.

Jeanne "comforts" Jada by telling her of a place in the woods called the Dreaming Tree - a place of wild magic once used for fertility rituals by the old Feral anthros that predate Jada's civilization. If you bathe nude there and then sleep at the roots of the tree, you will dream of your first time with your first lover - since Jada's first lover is supposed to be her arranged marriage, this hopefully solves her dilemma.

After the maid Jeanne leaves the room, it is revealed through conversation with a fellow maid, a Hare named Sasha who is Jeanne's friend, that the Dreaming Tree has a darker side as well - it is also called the Nightmare Tree. This is because the more innocent the fur who sleeps and dreams beneath it, the darker and more violent the dream will be. It will still be a true dream in the sense of accurately revealing your first lover and some general details about the situation of your first mating, but love will become violence and consent will become force as the dream twists the facts. Jeanne reveals that she knows this, but this is her revenge on Jada both for hitting her and for allowing herself to drift away from her lifelong friend.

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Sit down and listen well, everyfur, for I have a chilling All Hallows Night tale to continue.... And the story only gets darker yet

***

1 - Oak Moon (December)

Jeanne wrapped her cloak tighter around her as she shivered her way down the upstairs hall. Curse that little brat for sending her out on such a cold night for more potions from the herb-witch. Why couldn't she just tough it out through her first heat like any normal female fur? Oh no, she had to drug herself silly to not even feel it. What a prude she'd become.

The shire girl's heavy hooves rang on the stairs as she climbed to the upper hall that held the noble family's sleeping chambers. House Einhorn had always been good to Jeanne... until the last few years, when Jada had begun to realize that her place as a magical creature, as a Unicorn, meant that she was expected to maintain her station above the "lesser" furs. Jeanne had always known that Jada would be a Lady of a great House, but she'd hoped that at least their friendship might survive in some form. She snorted and shook the snow from her mane, shivering the skin of her withers to shake the rest of it loose. Apparently it was just not meant to be - why, the other day the silly little unicorn mare had actually *hit* her. She'd fallen down as much as from surprise as from the blow.

Jeanne stopped outside her mistress's door, leaning one long black fuzzy ear against the heavy oak planks to see if Jada was still awake. The only sound was the low crackle of the fire and the keen of wind among the tower roofs. She pulled out a glass bottle and a small glass jar from her satchel and put her hoofpaw to the door handle, then paused for a moment, a strange smile passing across her heavyset shire muzzle.

She pushed back her cloak, rummaging in the satchel at her side, and removed a small square jar of the heating liniment she'd been using on a pulled muscle in her fetlock, and a flask of firewine she'd planned to share with her wolf KingsGuard boyfriend over the winterfest holiday. Huffing in frustration at her blunt workmanlike hoofnails, she carefully peeled the labels off of the bottle and jar that the herb witch had sold her, and stuck them onto the bottle of firewine and the jar of liniment. Satisfied that the labels were on securely, the mare opened her mistress's chamber door, tiptoed to the end table beside the bed and left her faux potions there, beside her sleeping mistress's form.

Late into the night, Jada opened one pale violet eye and peeked out from beneath the covers. The room was dark and quiet, the multi-paned windows of her chamber fogged over with cold, the fire burned to dim coals in the wide brick hearth. The silvery light of the first full moon of December, the Oak Moon, slanted down into the room, making all the shadows inky black and stark. She closed her eyes again and tried to sleep. The soft cotton of her nightgown felt like burlap against her swollen, erect lavender-colored nipples. The cloth tugged against her fur. Every fine underhair of her long, white-plumed tail pressed and rubbed against the hot wet puffy swell of her sex, arousing and irritating her.

"Ohhhh I HATE being in heat. I hope it isn't going to be like this every time." She groaned, and pulled the feather-filled satin duvet back just far enough to reach one slender hoofpaw out and grab the bottle of heat-relief potion that Illyria the Herb Witch had made for her. At least Jeanne had made the extra trip to fetch another batch. She pried the cork out with her teeth in a most unladylike way and poured the liquid down her throat in a few swallows.

"Oooooh! Whoa!" she gasped, panting for air. The new potion seemed much stronger than the last batch; it tasted of cinnamon and honey with a strange burny aftertaste. It sent a wave of warmth through her body that seemed to radiate from her stomach. She felt her tense muscles instantly melting into relaxation. Jada made a mental note to thank Jeanne, perhaps even give her a tip.

Annoyingly, the potion wasn't doing much to ease the hot swollen throb of her loins and breasts or the constant tingle of her horn. Thankfully, the herb witch had also provided a cooling creamy ointment she could rub on to numb the area and dull the worst of the tingling. Jada found the process of rubbing lotion into her most private parts deeply embarrassing but she did appreciate the temporary relief it gave.

Sighing, she reached for the jar of ointment and unscrewed the lid. She dipped the first two fingers of her hoofpaw into it. The scent was enticing, spicy with ginger, sharp mint and eucalyptus, with a delicious peppery undertone. Apparently this was also an improved blend. She shrugged, ducked under the blankets, and pulled her nightdress up to her shoulders with the other paw. Jada dabbed a few dots of lotion on her left nipple, hissing a snorted breath through flared nostrils as the tender, sensitive nub sent a jolt of sensation too sharp to be called pleasure stabbing down towards her sex. She rubbed the ointment into the fur of her breast with a few quick, timid strokes, then repeated the process with the other nipple, the pert violet peak of her small breast pale in the darkness under the blanket. Scooping up another pawful of numbing cream, she shyly eased her legs apart. Even though the witch had assured her this was a simple first aid procedure, perfectly natural, that many female furs did during every heat, it still felt shameful and humiliating to Jada.

As she slid her hoofpaw down over her plump pubic mound, the dark violet lips of her mare's sex winked open to expose her pale lavender inner labia and the hard, erect nub of her clit, slick and glistening with thick fluids already. With a muffled "mmmph!" of sensation, Jada plunged her hoof fingers into her folds and gently rubbed a thick smear of ointment up and down the splayed mouth of her sex. She slathered an extra dose over her clit, hoping to numb the constant flutter of her heartbeat pulsing in the oversensitive bundle of nerves.

She put the lid back on the jar, set it back on the night table, and lay back. She felt so relaxed, the new potion blend burning like a warm comforting hearthfire in her middle. As a matter of fact she felt much too warm, her white soft fur beginning to dampen with sweat on her chest and inner thighs. With a quick shrug, she yanked her nightdress off over her head, wincing as it caught on her horn, and tossed it on the floor. Why hadn't she thought of this before? The satin sheets felt sooooo good against her fur - rubbing softly against her achy nipples and tender swollen breasts, sleek and cool against her thighs and buttocks.

The warmth from the potion seemed to spread and spread, heating on her nipples and the furless skin of her labia until it felt as if she were standing naked in front of a campfire. Sweat soaked through her fur, darkening the white fur of her cleavage to dark rose as her blush showed through. This wasn't helping at all - the new formula was great at relaxing her but now she was burning up! Tossing and turning, the young unicorn mare tossed the blankets off of herself and lay nude, spread eagle on the blue satin sheet, trying to get more cool air on her burning skin.

She was a lithe and slender white form in the moonlight, writhing on the sheets, her tasseled tail lashing in frustration, her chest heaving, making her small firm breasts jiggle as she took long breaths to cool herself. She swayed the slim curves of her hips side to side, her sex winking open and closed once a second involuntarily as she sought frantically to get some cool air onto the searing, stinging, burning feeling that was tormenting her tender loins.

"W...what was in that ointment?!" she whimpered, reaching down to press her paws to her open folds, trying to still the pain. But pressure only made it worse. And worst of all, her heat-addled sex was willing to accept a certain amount of pain as pleasure. Her nipples stood up firm and hard at the tips of her breasts, every breath making them throb and burn, and her passage clenched and released in convulsive rhythms. She whinnied in distress, tears leaking from her eyes. It felt like... like she'd rubbed the juice of hot peppers into her sex and onto her nipples. Nothing helped, not even grabbing a corner of the sheet and scrubbing it across her breasts and loins. It only made her hips buck and thrust out of her control with the pain and need.

Unable to lie still any longer, Jada leapt off the bed, her body blushing rosy under her sweat-soaked fur. She paced the length of the room, whimpering in quiet equine squeals and grunts, trying to keep her tail lifted and her thighs apart. Even so, the normal rubbing motion of her labia past each other with each stride was unbearable, the burn spiking with each step. Her clit felt like a hot coal tucked deep between her labia. And to make it worse, the room seemed to keep spinning and tilting around her, her hooves stumbling over the flagstones.

Squealing in pain, she stumbled to the tall double windows and flung them open, letting in a blast of wind and a swirl of snow. The cold winter air made her silver white fur stand on end, softening her lithe curves. She sucked in a huge gasp and bent double as the cold hit her, folding her arms over her breasts and shuddering.

Without thinking about what she was doing she leaned on the windowsill and scraped up a pawful of snow, and pressed it to her throbbing sex. "Ahhhh!" she screamed, dancing in place with a clatter of cloven hooves on stone. "ah...huh...huhhhhhh" she panted and groaned as the shock of the cold sank into her spread and burning pussy. She grabbed another pawful and pressed it to one painful nipple and then the other, tears leaking from under her closed lids, her mouth contorted in a silent moan of shock. The cold hurt as bad as the ointment at first, then numbed the sensitive areas, then soaked in and made her nipples and clit hurt in a dull ache in time with her pulse. She knelt on the floor by the windowsill, shivering in the cold, but still pressing pawfuls of snow to her teats and between her legs.

Slowly, she adapted to the icy wind whirling snowflakes around her bedchamber, a comfortable warmth still radiating from her middle. The dull ache of her chilled sex and nipples started to feel almost good again. That terrible hungry wanting was back, though, making her fidgety and restless.

She rested her muzzle on the stone ledge of the windowsill and tongued up a mouthful of snow, letting it melt and trickle down her throat. It felt soooo good but now she realized how thirsty she was and wanted more. Leaning out further, she stretched up, using her tail to balance, and snapped off a thick icicle from the eaves. Her narrow Arabian-style muzzle opened wide to take the girth of it.

"Mmmmph" she moaned as she sucked and licked, letting a slow trickle of chilly meltwater slide down her parched throat. Her tongue and mouth went numb quickly, and she slid the icicle back and forth, enjoying the way the ice felt sliding across her open lips. Curious, she pushed the shaft of ice deeper into her throat and discovered that she could flex her throat muscles as if she were swallowing and let almost the whole length slip into her mouth. It felt lovely and cool, a sensual contrast to the feverish heat of her body. The icicle was melting quickly, and soon it was only the size of her own horn, long and slender.

The numb and swollen outer lips of her sex, wet and shiny with melted snow, were already beginning to sting again from the ginger liniment, and she glanced down at herself thoughtfully. Kneeling up to lean against the wall below the windowsill, she eased her thighs wider and slowly lowered the icicle to touch her plump wet folds. "Oooh!" she said. It was much, much colder and harder than the pawful of snow she had used, and it slid smoothly back and forth between the channel of her labia to nudge and drag at her clit. Her tail flagged upward arched to the side, driven by instinct without her conscious control. Jada looked thoughtfully at the icicle. After so much of it had melted, it was much more slender than Jeanne's finger.

Jada let the blunt tip of the icicle slip down, guided by her folds, to nudge at the tight hole between her legs. There was still that deep empty burn up inside her, something wanting to be stretched and filled. Carefully, she nudged the tip of it between her inner labia, nestling it into the opening of her passage. She winced, her velvety nose wrinkling in a grimace of pain, as the icicle touched the tiny quarter inch long rip in her virgin membrane that hadn't completely healed yet. Frowning, she kept pressing inwards, stretching the taut hymen that partly covered her opening, pushing it slowly aside with the long narrow shaft of ice, until with a sudden jolt the first few inches slipped inside her. Goddess bless it felt good and awful and scary and wonderful! It was harder than Jeanne's finger had been, and the cold chilled the tight plush muscle walls of her passage.

The hardness felt so good inside her, and she pushed the column of ice deeper, curious. The sliding cold friction felt amazing, making her sex clench down hard on the frozen shaft filling it. Experimenting, she pulled it partway out and pushed it back in. The sensation made her shiver and gasp, her mouth open and panting, eyes shut, her silver mane falling over her forehead in a wanton tumble. She wanted more. With the next thrust, she pushed almost the whole length into her passage, and felt the blunted freezing tip of the icicle nudge up against that *something* inside her that had been screaming to be touched. Without meaning to, she spread her legs more, flagged her tail, hunched her hips down as if squatting to be mounted. She lost her grasp on the last couple inches of ice, and the icicle slipped inside, vanishing behind the taut membrane of her virgin barrier. She felt filled and opened, the hard chilly mass of ice inside her passage pressing up against her cervix, numbing and titillating all at once. Her mouth open in a wide O of shock, she fumbled at her sex with both paws, trying to retrieve the icicle. Her fingers grazed hard across her clit and she whinnied a mare's invitation to a stallion, instinctively begging to be mounted. She rubbed harder and felt all the muscles of her plumply swollen passage caress and clasp against the frozen dildo filling her. A slow, steady drip of melted water was leaking between her sex lips, pattering to the floor. As she circled her clit with curious fingertips, her hips instinctively rolled and bucked as if she were being bred and used by a male. Too soon, the hard, violating press of the ice inside her melted away, replaced by the warmth of her own fluids and body heat.

"Nnnnn..." she groaned in frustration, the almost-orgasm fluttering in her lower belly fading away as the hard, thick pressure melted away from the base of her womb, as the walls of her passage squeezed close, finding nothing to clench on.

Jada tugged and rubbed at her clit a few more times, hopefully. It felt good, yes, but she knew now she needed to be filled and spread. The friction made her need worse without quite filling it. After a few more moments, she sighed and stood up, pulling herself to her hooves using the windowsill to brace on.

"I'm never going to get to sleep." She sighed. The new potion and ointment were worse than useless and she had none of the original batch left.

She carefully rested one haunch on the windowsill and looked out over the moonlit fields and gardens of House Einhorn and the surrounding village. Beyond the village fences were pastures for the feral animals the furs raised, and just beyond that she could see the first trees of Wolfrun Wood. Supposedly, the wood was the location of a spring-fed pool, and a Dreaming Tree full of wild magics that could show you the face of your first lover in your dreams.

Hmm, she thought, a walk and a cold bath. That might be just what the herb witch ordered to take the edge off this gods-bedamned heat. Besides, many of the wild magics were still alive and powerful in the old places of power once used by the Feral anthro furs, Perhaps there really was something to the story...

Acting quickly once her decision was made, Jada bound her silk wrap skirt around her hips and bundled a floor-length fluffy grey sheepskin cloak around her shoulders. She didn't bother to put on a bodice or blouse, as she didn't think her poor raw achy nipples could bear the touch of fabric any more tonight after all the abuse they'd been through.

The rough stone of the windowsill scraped at her bare legs under the skirt as she sat on the windowsill and swung her hind hooves out into the night. Scooting sideways on the sill, she was able to lean around the window frame and catch the huge knotted and gnarled wisteria vine that covered the western wall of the House. Jada knew she could climb it; although not nearly as good a climber as a non-hooved fur, her cloven hooves could still find the gaps between branches as she lowered herself to the frosty ground.

The gardens were deserted, snow fetlock-deep on the ground. Jada was grateful that like Clydesdale and shire species of equine fur, unicorns had thick feathering on their slender legs to help keep them warm. The path behind the main street of the village was also silent and dark, the snow lying smooth and unbroken, muffling the shapes of fence and wall, bush and hillock. She made good time though, her cloven hooves spreading to bear her weight without sinking too deeply into the snow. Once under the shelter of the trees of Wolfrun Wood, there was much less snow on the ground, and though the moonlight was hidden by the heavy branches, the silverblue glow of her own horn cast enough light for her to find her way. It had been a couple years since she'd gone running or hunting in the wood, but she knew which path Jeanne had meant, and her girlhood memories of running free in the woods, playing at being feral, served her well.

Before the last sliver of the full moon had slipped below the horizon, Jada stood at the edge of a wide, shallow spring-fed pool in an open meadow. The ground was thick with last summer's dry grasses under the thin dusting of snow. Most of the clouds had gone, and the clear thin light of the distant stars was enough to see by. The still, black water of the pool steamed with rising tendrils of mist. It seemed eerie but Jada knew that since the water came from an underground aquifer, it would be around 50 degrees year round, and therefore steamed in the icy air. That same spring kept most of the pool's surface clear of ice, and meant that the water would be unpleasantly cold, but not lethally cold.

Jada looked thoughtfully at the large dead oak standing on the tiny island, no more than twenty feet across, in the middle of the pool. It looked as though she could probably wade over to it without having to swim much; the water was clear enough that she could see the gravelly bottom of the pool. As a unicorn, she could also see the green glowing shimmers of wild magic flowing up and down the grain of the Dreaming Tree, and glowing bright as a firefly in the tilted granite slab set among the tree's roots. Although the tree was long dead, none of the wood had rotted, no branches had fallen, and she took that as another clear sign that the wild magic here was still strong.

The walk had done her good, taken the worst edge off her heat, and she hoped that cold water and tiredness would do the rest and perhaps let her at least nap. How did other females stand this?

She shrugged off her sheepskin cloak, shuddering as the cold air hit her and caused every hair of her soft white coat to stand on end. Unwrapping the long loose green silk skirt, she used it to bundle and tie the cloak into a neat oblong package. It felt so naughty and risqué to be naked, here alone out in the wild wood. Normally she would have found it embarrassing but the strange alchemy of snow and starlight, solitude and insomnia, made it all seem surreal, as if nothing she did mattered or was real.

She held the bundle of her clothing balanced on one shoulder, and waded into the water fast, hurrying to get at least waist deep before the cold hit her. Strangely, perhaps she had acclimated to the cold of the freezing night air already, because the water felt just cooler than skin temperature, soft like rainwater, and it tugged and caressed at her fur like paws stroking her. It seemed to press and ebb between her legs like soft fingers teasing, and as she waded chest deep it flowed across her breasts like the long slide of a silken scarf. She waded dripping onto the shore of the island, and shook herself dry - a rude tomboyish gesture she would never have dared in front of anyfur. She took a deep breath and pushed some of her magic up from her core into her horn, letting a warm silvergold glow drift down over her body, drying her the rest of the way. She walked the few steps to the stone altar, the dry grass of the islet soft and silent under her hooves, and opened her bundle of clothing, spread her cloak on the chill stone. Then she lay back on the angled top of the altar, her head higher than her hooves. The stone was carved with subtle curves and hollows in it that supported a reclining body, encouraging her to lie with her back arched, arms and legs slightly spread. Jada had intended to spread her silk skirt over herself as a cover, but strangely the air under the dreaming tree was still and somewhat warmer than the surrounding forest and she didn't seem to need it. Besides, it felt so good to lay still, with no cloth or blankets tugging at her oversensitive skin and fur, rubbing across raw nipples and swollen breasts. So good to lay, legs apart, and let the night air soothe the wet achy needy heat of her sex...

Jada felt better than she had in days...the wind rustling amongst the bare twigs, the stars wheeling slowly by. Pale lavender lids blinked, blinked longer, drifted shut over violet eyes, and the exhausted adolescent slept, the lean curves of her white body offered to the night, a lush balance of budding marehood and tomboy filly.

At first, she didn't know it was a dream. But as she opened her eyes and looked around, she realized that the snow was gone, the stars were summer constellations, the full moon was bright enough that she could see colors, and the dreaming tree had leaves. Such strange, jagged leaves; like a maple, but narrower, and crimson colored, which made her think it must be autumn in her dream. But the tree was also blooming, blue-black blossoms that looked like apple blooms in shape but smelled like lotus flower and poppies. She wanted nothing more than to lay back on the altar, her heavy head propped up on a bundled fold of the sheepskin blanket, and watch the black flowers shed petals into the wind. She indulged the mood. A light footstep made her sit up halfway. On the bank of the pool stood something so white that it glowed in the night. She rubbed her eyes with her paws and looked closer. A feral unicorn! She'd thought they were extinct. Jada held still so as not to startle him, thinking what a lovely dream this was. He was an impressive specimen, full sixteen hands high, his conformation combining the best of arab and Friesian equine shapes. He was the perfect balance between power and elegance, his long curled mane hanging to his knees, his bannered tail trailing behind him on the forest floor. Suddenly, his large ears flicked, his head turned to look at Jada, and she mouthed a silent "oh" of disappointment, because surely now he would flee...

In the snowy winter forest, the mist of the pool swirled and thickened, darkened and gathered, until it seemed almost as if a shape stood there, a black shape made of shadow and smoke, standing on the water, just above the surface. It blinked suddenly, glowing eyes of dull sooty flame, and turned an axelike head, surmounted with a scything curved bone horn, to stare at the nude young mare sleeping on his altar. Arrogant, yes, but only because it was expected of her. Impulsive and tomboyish under her touchingly thin veneer of ladylike manners. And innocent. So innocent. The Cauchemar had never scented such sweet naïve purity laid on his altar. His nostrils flared as he whuffed at her scent, and he threw up his heavy, brutal head in surprise - a virgin still, but in her first heat! He pawed at the water, throwing up strands of mist, and began stalking slowly, carefully toward his prize. His black lips curled back to show shark-like teeth as the brute smiled.

In her dream, the unicorn feral stallion dipped his head and one foreleg into a bow, and then waded into the water with barely a ripple. He swam like an otter, a smooth V of water peeling back on either side of him, and climbed up onto the islet dripping sparkles of springwater onto the earth. Jada started to get up, but he startled and half reared as if to shy away, and she knew that he still might flee, and the dream might be broken. She wondered when her mate would appear.

The Cauchemar drifted like a cloud of spores and smok e over the water to the islet. His mane and tall were twisting streamers of shadow; his body was a gaunt and muscled twist of night. He stood at the foot of the altar, between his prize's spread legs, and lowered his head to snuff at her sex. In shape he was part battlesteed and part dragon, but then the wind shifted and he seemed part hunting mastiff mixed with lean, gaunt racehorse. He opened his maw of pointed teeth and a snake tongue flicked out across the exposed inner lips of Jada's nether opening.

The dream unicorn stood over her, at the foot of the altar. Cool pure springwater from his wet mane dripped across her thighs, spattered over her belly, ran trickling down her sex. She couldn't stop her body from winking her labia at him in the unmistakable gesture of a mare in heat, and he arched his neck in a stallion's crest and bugled a proud neigh at her in a display of sheer male power. Jada felt her tail trying to flag up and sideways even though she was lying on her back with her tail underneath her. A hot blush flooded her cheeks; she was displayed like this for an animal! A magical animal, thought to be extinct, yes. A magnificent specimen of feral stallionhood, true. But an animal, nonetheless!

And then he lowered his muzzle to nudge at her sex and all thought left her head as his soft nose nudged her open, as his strong lips nibbled at her soaking wet folds, as his thick tongue swiped across her inner labia and swirled across her clit. She moaned and writhed and threw her legs wide to give him better access, arching her back to get more of her cunny in contact with his soft, strong tongue.

It's a dream... Jada managed to pull her thoughts together enough to realize. Maybe... maybe its all symbolic... my mate will embody the qualities of the primal unicorn, or he will be of a House bloodline thought to be extinguished... Her eyes widened in fear as the stud let down his cock from the sheath. The shaft alone was thicker and longer than her arm, and the head was wider than the fingers of her spread hand.

In the winter forest, the Cauchemar slurped and licked at Jada's groin, slithering his snaky tongue between her nether lips and forcing it up into her virgin passage. He swirled his tongue around inside her and gathered her body's aroused juices from her swollen inner folds, then pulled out and splashed the wet mouthful all over her sex until her labia dripped and glistened, soaking the sheepskin between her legs. He would have preferred to take her dry, make it hurt and bleed, but the prize must not wake before he took her innocence. If he could take her virginity, he could have her womb as well... Yessss he hissed. Mine. His huge barbed shaft, as much tentacle as cock, unfurled from his massive sheath and began swelling, rising up against his concave belly. He lunged forward, biting sharply once at her breast, then again at her bare shoulder, making sure to get his narcotic venom into her blood. Then he dragged her into position, pawing at her hips with a forehoof as she moaned in her restless sleep. Standing over her unconscious limp form, he seated the tip of his cock, pointed like a dog's but flared like a horse's, in the tight opening of her passage.

Jada tossed her slender head side to side. In her sleep, she mumbled "Do it... oh... do it to me."

Gripping tighter with his teeth, feeling her sweet blood flow over his lips, he rammed forward in one brutal thrust, tearing her virginity away in a splatter of blood droplets. He was too big, gave her body no time to accommodate him, so he tore her there as well, the swollen purple lips of her sex splitting like a punched lower lip in a few small tears where the girth of his cockhead stretched her too far. He roared a terrible neigh of triumph and ripped his cock out of her, dripping with her juices and her maiden blood, merely for the pleasure of ramming it into her overtight passage again. And again. With each thrust he pulled all the way out and then plunged back in, her drugged body dragged back and forth limply across the sheepskin with the force of his rape.

In her dream, the unicorn's mane brushed sensually across her belly and breasts as he shifted a couple steps forward to stand over Jada's prone body. With a distant sense of concern, she saw that the altar was high and narrow enough, and the stallion simply large enough, that he could stand over the entire altar, trapping her in the foot or so of space beneath his chest and belly. But he radiated such a sense of peace and kindness that she found it hard to muster the reasonable fear.

Something thumped against the sheepskin between her wide spread thighs and Jada realized that the stallion was fully erect now, his cock easily as big as those she'd seen the feral Clydesdale carthorses display as they stood in the village fields. He arched his neck again, this time to nuzzle and nip lightly at her breasts. She whimpered and then squealed like a common feral mare as he bit one fat violet nipple. Oh, but it felt good at least as much as it hurt. It is just a dream, she reminded herself. Even if it is a shameful and filthy one. It might feel painful, but it's all in my head. And there is magic here, wild magic.

She could feel the magic thick in the air like the scent of lightning after a close strike. The unicorn closed his teeth gently on the side of her neck and shoulder, holding her, and then the hot, spongy-hard head of his shaft nudged her between her legs. It pressed her folds open wide, flattened out against his thickness. He arched his hips forward a little in a tiny thrust that shoved her back and forth on the sheepskin. The pressure on her clit drove her wild, making her spread her legs, then wrap them around his belly to hold on. Of course no anthro mare could ever take a member like this in real life, but this was a dream and she could do anything, dare anything.

The massive shaft drew back then nudged at her harder and Jada felt that wonderful-terrible stretching sensation as the pointed tip of his cockhead forced her body to open to him. This time he didn't pull back, but shuffled his hind feet forward in short prancing steps, his gorgeous tail lashing side to side, as he pushed the head halfway into her virgin opening. His breath was hot on her neck as his teeth held her carefully pinned down to the altar underneath. Jada wrapped her arms around the crest of his arched neck, burying her paws in his mass of snow white curling mane and hanging on.

"Do it, do it, please do it oh please." She begged in a delirious, hoarse litany. The fat cockhead splitting her pulled back just a little then the stud bore down with all his weight and she felt her pussy lips stretched and widened, thinned out to gape obscenely around the monstrous dick she was being forced to take. She was split so wide that her inner labia pulled at her clit hood and made her moan and wriggle in pleasure that outmatched her pain.

Her maidenhood stretched also at first, a burning band of fire and ice across her virgin opening, then with a wet tear she felt him force through it. The pain was a hot sting like being jabbed once with a red-hot poker in that most delicate of places, and it made her jerk her hips, bucking and writhing her hips side to side in any effort to get the huge invading THING out of her poor hurt sex.

But the stallion was having none of it. He pulled back, the head of his cock jerking out of the tight ring of vaginal opening with a wet pop, then he thrust forward in one rough motion, ramming his way into her now-open passage, forcing the taut O of her pussy lips to stretch wider, wider, until the whole flared head slipped inside and filled her. She had never imagined, never, that anything could feel so large. The head of it alone felt like she was being split in half, like she could look down and see it bulging her belly outwards. Jada screamed out a loud neigh that echoed in the woods as the stallion kept shoving, kept pushing his cock up into the too-small muscled walls of her marehood, until the head pressed against the base of her womb, rubbing her cervix in the ultimate invasion.

Again, the stud held still for a moment, as no mere animal would, letting her get used to her new position, letting her feel what it was to be filled, stuffed, mounted, impaled, and certainly no more a virgin. There was no chance he could hilt himself in her and he didn't try, but she felt the soft ridge of his medial ring pressed up against the stretched O of her spread labia, and rubbing against her aching sore clit. After a few seconds of this position, as the first shock and the worst of the pain faded, Jada found herself clenching and squeezing his cock with the walls of her passage, rolling her hips in tiny circular motions to rub the medial ring of his shaft against her clit. The feverish hunger of her heat was telling her instinctively that this was what she needed, to have her passage stuffed from lips to womb with hard stallion cock. No. She needed more. She needed to be used, taken... she didn't know the words.

It was as if the feral unicorn read her mind, though, because he pulled back until she could feel the lips of her sex puffed outwards from the pressure of his cockhead tugging at the inside of the tight muscle ring at the opening of her passage. Then he rammed forward again and thrust that same cockhead hard against the end of her passage. Jada screamed another sharp neigh. It hurt! It hurt with a deep, dull ache buried inside her - and yet it was good. Yes. This was what she needed. And he gave it to her, again and again, in long, rough thrusts that made her sore with the stretched friction of cock plundering the tight walls of her marehood, that ached so sweetly as the flared head battered at the base of her womb. His medial ring slapped against her clit at the end of each thrust. She was squealing, thrusting her hips up at him, shoving down onto his member trying to take more, desperate to hilt him, her sex clenching and releasing in the white hot fire of her first orgasm, her pent up juices squirting sloppily around his cock like a bitten peach as she came...

And then something strange was happening inside her. He pinned her down harder as she climaxed, used all his weight to stretch her passage longer, and in an agony of pain and pleasure and need she felt his medial ring pop inside her, the head of his cock wedged hard against the softened, bruised opening of her cervix. That felt so right.... So good...

But then the medial ring did something awful. It began to swell, engorging wider and wider with every heartbeat, and as it swelled it began erecting short hard bone spines. They weren't all that sharp, but they didn't need to be; it felt like a porcupine had curled up just inside her violated opening. The spiny knot swelled so thick that she felt a few last tatters of her hymen tear a little more, and she knew that her nether lips must be puffed out and swollen with that mass plugging her hole.

Jada whinnied in terror and batted at his chest with her paws, but she had no leverage from this angle. And then he began thrusting again, short sharp jabs at her cervix that hurt because she was already stretched longer and deeper than should be possible. "No. It hurts, stop it." She sobbed, still beating at his chest and face. And then she felt him stiffen, felt his massive thighs clench as he pressed still deeper into her. The hot rush of seed into her passage made her want to die. She had been bred by an animal, she was filthy with his seed inside her. The fat plug of his knot sealed her, keeping every drop inside. Jada felt spurt after spurt splashing against the base of her womb. She just lay there weeping, hoofpaws clenched into fists at her side, as his searing hot seed poured into her violated passage, as he kept her stretched and impaled on his still-hard cock, sealed with his knot. It went on until she felt her belly swell a bit, a full feeling as if she had to urinate, until she felt hot sticky strings of it leaking out and running down her bruised nether lips.

Surely, she thought, he would be done with her then. But he wasn't. He began thrusting yet again, slow, almost gentle thrusts that didn't hurt except for the stabbing pinchy feeling of the spines of his knot jabbing into her just inside her opening. He fucked her with an odd, slightly circular motion of his hips, as if her passage was a mixing bowl and his shaft was stirring the contents. It rubbed her clit against her own stretched labia, sending unwanted jolts of pleasure shooting through her, as did the feel of the huge flared head of his cock massaging around and around all the inner walls of her canal. And it seemed to help that full feeling.

She shuddered in horror as she realized that the sense of fullness, of being stuffed with his cock and his cum, was going away because he was using his cock as the piston of a pump inside her, using the flared head to push his seed up into her womb.

It shouldn't matter, she told herself, if you'll let an animal put his cock in you, then why does it matter if he gets his seed in you. He can't breed you. It's just another body fluid. And anyway, it's a dream. Not even a true dream, I guess the wild magic doesn't work right for unicorns in this place. Yes, I'd better wake up.

She closed her eyes, tried to ignore the fucking she was getting, tried to concentrate and gather her magic to wake up, but the stud wanted one more climax out of her and the slow thrusts went on and on, using her sore cunny until the need of her heat overcame her and he wrung one more shuddering, groaning orgasm out of her used sex. Splatters of his cum and her fluids squeezed out around his knot and soaked her inner thighs as she jerked and writhed under him and finally fell limp and panting to lie still, spread eagle in surrender to her fate as the horsecock jammed into her slowly softened, at last allowing her overstretched sex some mercy.

Seeing her chance, Jada closed her eyes and pulled in her power, then pushed it hard into her magical horn, flaring it into a bright white light that summoned her back to the waking world.

But something was wrong. She woke to terrible pain. And the horse cock was still jabbing and tearing at her sore cunny, she was still being raped. The small unicorn mare opened her eyes to see a nightmare stallion of smoke and night and curved white bone horn crouched over her. She was impaled on his cock, lying on a sheepskin soaked in cum, blood, and the sticky fluids of her heat and unwanted arousal. He seemed to be part shire warhorse, but gaunt and starved, and part hunting mastiff, and his terrible eyes were pits of flame that glowed like dull coals.

He stood straddled over the altar, Jada's drugged body spread limp underneath him, as he rammed at her in a slow, deliberate pace with a cruel pause at the end of each thrust. He looked into her eyes as he did so, feeding on her fear and horror. Jada moaned in pain. His teeth in her shoulder felt like a bear trap, and her sex throbbed and burned and hurt as if she'd been fucked with a blade. And yet, through all of it, the animal need of her heat smoldered. The beast above her gave her an awful look of knowing, and changed his angle and pace to press her clit at the end of each thrust. Although her dream stallion could not hilt himself all the way, this monster, this nightmare stallion could, and the leathery ring of his sheath sealed itself in a vile kiss against the stretched ring of her nether lips at the end of each thrust. Jada's hungry sex betrayed her once more despite the rough use and abuse it had been put to. A final time she convulsed and writhed through a forced climax she didn't want, her cunt so sore and used it could barely clench and grasp to squeeze the invading cock. Once more, Jada lay there in a shocked daze as she felt his knot engorge within her - at least the real life version of her rapist had no spines on his knot - and tie her to him as his searing hot seed splattered her insides in sticky ropes. The mare just remained limp, her eyes clenched shut, feeling it fill her, her hips held lifted off the altar by the knot that tied their loins obscenely together.

She licked at her cracked lips with a dry tongue, trying to speak "A...all right" she croaked in a rough broken voice she barely recognized as her own "You... you finished, right? You can let me go now. Please. I'm so sore, you hurt me, I can't take any more. Please. Please." She begged.

The savage bite released her shoulder, and from the hot breath on her cheek she knew that the nightmare unicorn was nose to nose with her "You.... MINE." He hissed in a rasp like gases escaping a corpse. "Each full moon... you...heat. I mate. Breed."

"No. Nooo. NO!" Jada shrieked, punching at his face with both paws. The Cauchemar's only response was a booming laugh. He reared, dragging her, still impaled on his shaft, and wheeled to plunge into the water. Jada refused utterly to cling to her rapist for support so she hung beneath him, knotted, her arms and legs flopping awkwardly as she dangled with her whole weight supported by their joined loins.

Mercifully, the icy water supported her as she floated below him, and numbed her skin instantly. She'd never felt anything so cold. The monster swam down, down into the dark pool and Jada's lungs were burning, her chest was heaving, her sex burned and ached with the poison of the beast's seed. She held on until she couldn't and then was forced to take a breath, freezing water rushing in and filling her lungs and she struggled and kicked as sparks danced in front of her eyes and then only darkness....

Jada woke up curled on icy flagstones under her open window. She sat bolt upright and shrieked. She remembered drinking the wrong potion... and the ointment that didn't work... and the naughty thing she had done with the icicle... but after that, surely the rest was just a terrible nightmare. She pawed at her fur and found it dry, with flakes of snow settled in it and her mane. She staggered to numb hooves and slammed the window closed. Stumbling to the dressing table, she picked her mirror up and examined her breasts, the curve of her slender throat; no bruises, no bites. Oh, but her sex ached, although she imagined that's what one got when playing such naughty games with ice.

Jada stood spread legged, a little shocked at her own daring, and lowered the mirror. She'd never looked at it before; her sex was actually quite pretty, dark violet fat plump lips spread now with the swelling of heat to reveal the wet lavender folds like crumpled wet petals of a rose. The thin hymenal membrane still stretched across the lower half of the dark puckered opening of her passage. Reassured, Jada took another moment to curiously admire this part of her body she'd never paid much attention before.

*Splat* something splashed on the surface of the mirror. Startled, Jada leaned over more to get a better look, and the motion made more fluid trickle out of her to land on the surface of the silver mirror. She could just barely see that it was a thick white fluid, opaque and sticky. She lifted the mirror and touched it, held her paw to her muzzle and sniffed, thinking it would be the fluids of her heat mixed with melted icicle. Instead it smelled of copper, of brine, of seawater, of the stallion-musk of potent male. In the mirror, she saw a flicker of red, like dying coals, a wisp of black, like smoke and shadow. *mine( a dark voice hissed inside her mind.

Jada barely made it the three tottering steps to her bed before she fainted.

***

Read what happens when Jada goes into heat at the next full moon in Chapter 3: Wolf Moon

Let me know if you like it or have critiques. Constructive criticism to make the story better is always welcome.

SPOILER: Yes, Jada will end up being Xeno's birth mother.