Welp. “Master” has to do something about the willfulness of his newest… “acquisition.” Obviously, this is going to entail magically-induced fuckings. Because reasons.
 
 
“Well, now, lil’ miss mare, you~~” The stallion~~ “Master,” as he insisted on being called- was cut short.
 
“I’m not a ‘miss,’ asshole! What the hell do you think you’re doing to me?!” Lavender Moon wriggled against incandescent rings of magic holding her aloft. Dull red light flickered against her struggles.
 
She- HE couldn’t quite see where he was being taken to like this, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. If his very first introduction to this world, and this creature, involved his gender, species, and name being stolen away, then certainly little else would be any better.
 
“ahem. As I was saaayiiinng, you put me in quite the pickle.” Part of the wall fell away along the hall at their approach, and he guided the mare through.
 
A room adorned with various oddities greeted them on the other side, making puzzles of each and every corner. Concern crawled across Lavender’s face as he was parked over a large stone circle at one of the room’s corners. The stallion left her there and walked to a nearby window, whisking it open. Cold light cut across the room and carved shadows into the deeper corners, making the “oddities” seem slightly more ominous. Books, skulls, baskets and boxes, dried plants, a table cluttered with stones and crystals of various sorts. That many of the skulls, stones, and crystals had some kind of script carved into them concerned Lavender. It looked like the same language on the stone dias he was now parked over. The stallion walked over to the table with the stones and crystals.
 
“You see, I spent a lot of time, money, and energy setting up to acquire a being from a realm without magic. Shoulda’ made making a new servant easy! ‘No magic, and thus no magic resistance,’ was the thinking. But it seems that was not entirely accurate, now was it?” The stallion drawled this out while poking around the table, his hooves searching one end while magic lifted and shuffled contents on the other. Everything became animate as he sorted through and arranged a few objects across the table, while discarding others.
 
“But nope. Apparently, having no magic actually seems to make you more resistant to magic. Barely even a fraction of the spell managed to hold on you; the rest slid right off…” a grin eased across his face as the table returned to being a collection of lifeless objects. He had found everything he was looking for. “I guess that’s a bit o’ blessing in disguise, though. Means anything I am able to pound into you will be that much more difficult to undo.”
 
His magic wrapped around five little objects he had collected from the table. Three crystals and two stones flew across the room and arranged themselves in various corners. Energy hummed its way across the stonework below Lavender, bright red light tracing out a specific pattern across its many etchings.
 
“So, I’m going to have ta’ put each of those things into ya’ one at a time, the good ‘ol fashion way. And first order of business is… well, what’s a master to a slave that doesn’t do what she’s told?”
 
Lavender’s face twisted with panic. His eyes flitted across the room, looking for something, ANYTHING he could use! But there was nothing he could reach, suspended in the air. Despair started to fill him as the magic holding him in place brightened.
 
“No! You can’t do this! I’m not from here, I don’t belong here! You don’t own me! You can’t just destroy someone’s will like that!” His eyes settled on the stallion, pressing every ounce of raw rage and fear he had to the forefront. The stallion clicked his tongue.
 
“Don’t you worry too much. I don’t think I’d ever really be able to take that will of yours away. ‘Sides, what’d be the fun in that?” The stallion’s smile widened as he strode forward. It dropped from his face on the next sentence, though: “But I can’t have you running off, killing me in my sleep, or otherwise not doing what I tell you to.” He glanced at the magical tracings upon the stone one last time, then waved his hoof at the bindings. Lavender found herself twirled into a new position at the flick of a command.
 
“Now, with magic resistance like yours, the deeper I dive, the stronger it gets. Your will is probably untouchable, but your body? And other things along the edges, like yer name? Some memories, parcticularly the declarative type? That’s free game, hun!” The smile returned to pollute his face. Its return was followed by that same large, flaring cock sliding out from below his body. Lavender stared at it in disgust.
 
“Oh, don’t be like that! I’m gonna make sure you enjoy this binding. When it’s done, you won’t have any choice but to follow my orders. An’ maybe chip a bit off that… gender of yers. We can save the other stuff for another time, love.” WIthout warning, the bindings flared brighter, and rammed Lavender down upon the stallion’s waiting cock.
 
“OH FUUUUUUUCCCKKK!” the mare screeched out. It was getting harder to think oneself a “he” at this point, as the sensations of a cunt wrapping itself around a long pole of meat filled “his” mind. A moment later, Lavender was lifted up… and jammed back down again. The cock’s tip went a bit deeper this time.
 
A rythm began to build. Slowly at first. Each thrust downward pushed pleasure inward. The pleasure grew, and spilled over into an orgasm, but the thrusting did not stop. Thoughts of “he” or “her” started to melt out of Lavender’s mind as the bindings worked their magic deeper with each thrust. As the pleasure buzzed its way through her ears and flushed her face and ears with hot blood, the third orgasm ensured she was left panting.
 
“Nff! How are ya’ likin’ it, little miss slut?” The stallion was thrusting upward with each downward drop of the magic. “Heh, huff- tell ya’ what- mm!” he floated up with the magic and began fucking her in earnest “since you’re such a treat, how ‘bout I tell you my name, just in case this doesn’t take hold? Can’t have you callin’ me ‘asshole’ all the time, now can we? It’s Erimus, or ~~ - - “
 
Lavender couldn’t really hear him. Her head was buzzing, the mind within just barely beginning to clear as she tried to force some control over the sensations. She looked down just in time to see him muttering something, the words lost to insensate buzzing, at the same moment he hilted deep inside drooling cunt. Warm seed burried itself deep inside her womb, heralding her final orgasm for the night.
 
Stuffed to the brim, horror creeped across her face as she could feel the malevolent magic seep into to her being. It hummed brightly with a red-orange light, the stallion’s cum seeming to carry the binding directly into her.
 
The panic seemed to clear away the rest of the brain fog. She wait, no… she wasn’t a she. Was she? Her face twisted its way from horror to confusion. “She” being a “she” was a “fact,” but… somehow, that felt wrong. Her mind walked back on itself: being a “she” was written into her memories, but all her actions were that of a “he.” Tastes, actions, body type… it’s like the sex he remembered having was waging a small war with the new one that just pounded its way into “her” mind, while leaving the gender on the sidelines to watch. “She” considered herself as a “he,” but couldn’t call herself a “he,” because being a “she” was a what she was, but….
 
Before her (his?) mind could twist itsef into anymore knots over the contradictions between declarative memory, implicit memory, gender-identity, or any other part of itself, the stallion’s voice cuit in.
 
“Whew! That was fun! Nnnnmmmmf…” he grunted his way out of the mare’s messy cunt. Lavender gasped as the mixed fluids splashed onto now dimming stone dias, the etchings traced out by the magic which flooded it seeming to melt into a background of countless marks and lines across its surface. “Now, to check the results. Who am I?”
 
The mare snorted. “An asshole,” she gasped out between pants “who should burn in hell.”
 
The stallion rolled his eyes. “Well, allow me to rephrase. I am your master. Name’s Erimus. Maybe you didn’t catch that between all your pleasure moans ’n screams” his smirk met her disgusted glare “-but you should call me ‘master,’ anyways. Now, who am I?”
 
Death burning its way through her eyes, she glared at him. “You’re aaassmma~~ maa- Maaaasstttt- errrrAAAAGGHH!” She shook her head and scrunched her face up with the effort. And tried again. “Mmmm… mmmaaAAA…. MmmMMaaasss…” tears filled her eyes. She head turned away as she muttered her response: “You’re… Master.”
 
She looked back up. Hate burned in those tears. “And I fucking hate you.”
 
Erimus trotted up to her and gave a warm, loving lick on the side of her face. “Glad to hear it, sweetie!”