(COMPLETE) To Create an Army

>You are Nightmare Moon.
>Empress of the Equestrian Empire.
>…
>You raise your glass of wine, and swirl the cool liquid, allowing the full pallet of scents to entire your nose.
>Casually, you take a sip, before returning the glass to the small table beside you.
>While you would very much enjoy the chance into indulge your taste, you have a much more pressing matter to deal with.
>Standing up, you open your wings into the traditional Royal Pose, before slowly walking across the dimly lit room.
>Before you in the Captain of the WonderBolts.
>Equestria’s /former/ elite flight unit.
>As you approach, you can’t help but smile.
>She will make such a wonderful broodmare.
>Even when resting in her bondage, her muscular frame is clearly visible.
>Her foals will certainly make wonderful candidates for service in your military.
>While is slightly more… aged… than you would have liked, you have no doubt that she would produce at least a dozen foals before needing to be retired.
>As you approach, you take a look at her belly’s firm, tight skin.
>In a few years it will be worn and loose, stretched by the weight of her broods.
>Her marehood will surely suffer an even worse fate.
>While you have no doubt that almost any stallion would pay to rut her as she is presented today, in a few years, she will be little more than a worn out whorse.
>Not that it particularly bothers you.
>Her womb will produce any many foals as you see fit.
>It is a merciful penance, given her years spent fighting you.
---------------
>Using your mane, you gently rub it against her back, up toward her neck.
>Instantly her body tenses, alerted to your presence.
>You chuckle.
“So this is the “Spitfire” that my prisoners have spent so much time talking about…”
>With practiced poise, she controls her emotions, and replies in a calm, yet resistant tone.
>”My name is Spitfire; Captain of the Equestrian Wonderbolts, Loyal to Princess Celestia.”
>You chuckle again, and remove your mane before standing in front of her, and turning to face the pony.
”Truly? Are all of you ponies the same?”
>Likely assuming that you are going to ask questions, she repeats herself.
>”My name is Spitfire; Captain of the Equestrian Wonderbolts, Loyal to Princess Celes-“
“Do not waste your time my little filly.”
>You lower your neck slightly, and make eye contact.
>Surprisingly, unlike other ponies,she doesn’t shy away.
>While she’s eyes show a clear hint of fear, you can tell she is determined to resist.
“If we wanted your secrets, we could simply use our magic to forcibly loosen your tongue.”
“You may have undergone whatever petty resistance training Equestria has to offer, but we can assure you, your willpower is nothing to the might of Alicorn magic.”
>You smile slightly, allowing the tips of your teeth to slip out into the open.
>For an instant she falters, and her eyes look fearfully at your teeth, before she blinks forcefully, and shakes her head.
>”I- I don’t care. I’ll try my best. I’m not going to let you hurt my ponies. I'm not going to- to just give into you like that.”
>Using your magic, you swiftly pluck one of her primary feathers, causing her to wince, and suck her teeth.
>You quickly bring it to her rear, and rub it against her marehood.
---------------
>Slowly, you begin to walk behind the mare, making it a point to be deliberately slow in the process.
>Her head is bound looking forward, and blinders are fixed on either side, so she can do little to track your movements.
>With her tail secured onto her back, and her wings and hooves secured, she has no means to resist you.
>As you casually play with her sex, you speak.
”We shall speak about the rebellion at a later time perhaps, but for now, we wish to speak of your future.”
>Spitfire attempts to make eye contact with you again, and while she still tries to maintain composure, you can tell that her sex is distracting her.
”You see little one, in the coming years, we should think that Equestria’s military might be in need of more suitable officers…”
>”I won’t do it.”
>She waits for a reply which doesn’t come.
>Noticing the low in conversation, she continues.
>”I- I won’t fight for you Nightmare. I don’t care what you are willing to offer me…”
>You chuckle.
“Oh? You think we would wish to have you fight for the Crown? After you have done everything in your power to harm us?”
>A soft giggle fills the air.
”No no little one, we have no interest in making you one of our officers.”
>Confusion covers her face.
---------------
>”Then, then I don’t understand. What do you want from me?”
>You giggle, and casually move the feather away from her body.
“Don’t you see my little pony? We are going to /breed/ you.”
>The horror in her voice is instant.
>”Wh-what? You- you can’t do that!”
“Can’t we? You stand before us in bondage, unable to put up even the slightest of resistance. We can do anything we wish to your body Spitfire…”
>You notice Spitfire struggling in her bonds, desperately trying to rotate her head to face you.
>”You can’t do that! It’s illegal! That’s rape you sick- twisted bastard!”
“Illegal? Our word is /law/ Spitfire. It is legal because we make it so.”
>”You- you sick-“
>Having enough of her complaints, you quickly use your magic to seal her mouth shut.
“Enough of your childish protest, you should consider yourself lucky to be alive.
“We shall do what we wish with our property, and we wish to have you inseminated.”
>She continues to struggle, now pitifully attempting to kick her legs free.
>You move the feather back to her body, and place on top of her hips.
“You have the true body of a broodmare Spitfire, to waste such a womb would be… wasteful…”
>You giggle slightly at your lack of wordplay.
“Such bountiful hips…”
“Such erect teats…”
“Even at this age, your body could bring us a dozen foals if used to it’s fullest potential…”
>You gently drag the feather down the side of her body, to her nipples, and then her belly.
“And we /do/ intend to use it to it’s fullest potential…”
---------------
>The doors to the room swing open, and a large, muscular pegasus stallion walks into the room, shutting the door behind him.
>Spitfire’s ears instantly perk up and the noise, and she tries to turn around.
>"mhhh! nhhhhh!”
>You can’t help but giggle in excitement.
>She must know what is coming.
>The poor little thing.
“I’m sure you know who that was little one. That was the stallion who is going to sire your very first foal…”
>You can feel her trying to open her mouth against your magic.
>”MHHH! MHH MMMM MMMM!!”
>It’s futile of course, but a good effort none the less.
>After acknowledging his bow, you gesture to the stallion to take his place, so that the process may begin.
>Deciding to enjoy the coming show, you move your sitting pillow closer, and lift your cup of wine, before taking a seat a few feet away from the mare’s side, so that you have a full view of the process.
>With yet another burst of magic, you place the mare into season, causing her body to produce the pheromones of a whorse in heat.
>Hers eyes tell you all you need to know, as she becomes increasingly scared, and her attempts to break free become all the more frantic.
>Deciding to help calm the mare, you speak.
”Relax Spitfire, this should be a wonderful moment for you.”
“A pegasus mare like yourself undoubtedly thinks about the company of a suitable warrior stallion, such as the one I've selected for you…”
---------------
>You take a casual sip of the wine, before looking toward your stallion.
>A Wing Leader in your Shadow Bolts, he is truly a specimen to behold.
>Wing that are long and muscular, yet nimble and quick.
>A trunk with the clear outlines of his physique on full display.
>As you look underneath his body, you notice his two, well swollen testes.
>As expected, he has been saving himself for this moment for a number of years.
>The wanton pheromones of Spitfire are clearly effecting him as well, as his nostrils wildly flare; hoping to enjoy the full scent of her lust.
>He’s stallionhood has already begun to unsheathe itself, and prepare for it’s natural duty.
>”Mhhh! Phh NM MMHHH PHHH!”
>You look again at Spitfire, and remove the blinder from one side, so that you may see her eye.
>She is crying now, overcome with emotion.
>Deciding to let her speak, you release your grip on her jaw.
“You have something to say little one?”
>She chokes over her words, trying not to let her crying interrupt this brief opportunity to speak.
>You can’t help but smile.
>Only moments ago, she stood before you, defiant and aggressive.
>Now?
>Now she is a common broodmare, unwilling to accept the duty you have generously provided her.
>”Please! Please Nightmare! EMPRESS! Empress! Moon!”
>”I’ll- I’ll tell you anything! Please! Please don’t do this! You don’t have to do this!”
>You take a sip of your wine.
”You have been of breeding age for a number of years Spitfire, yet you have not damed a single foal…”
”With a body and womb like yours, we’re surprised that you even finished schooling without producing a brood; let alone serving in the Wonderbolts…”
>You raise an eyebrow.
”Did the stallions that you served with honestly take no interest in you?”
>She shakes her head.
>”No! No! That’s not it! I- we used protection!”
---------------
>You become furious.
“Protection? You denied nature its proper course?”
>Again, the damn whorse shakes her head.
>”I had a career! I couldn’t have a foal then! I- I couldn’t quit the Wonderbolts!”
>It takes everything in you not to shatter your wine glass, and launch it’s remains at the mare.
“You wasted years of your wombs productivity to flap your little wings?”
>”We travelled! I couldn’t risk getting pregnant…”
“Yet you still had sex! You still rutted like a common mud pony! For what? For pleasure?”
>She chokes over her tears.
“You stupid, selfish whorse! Wanting the seed of a stallion, but not giving it the land to grow!”
>”Please… I’m sorry… just… just don’t do this…”
>”I… I don’t want to be raped… I don’t want a foal… please… I’ll tell you anything. ”
>You look at her marehood, which is openly winking, desperately hoping to attract a mate.
>Turning, you look at the stallion behind her, who has clearly gotten the message.
>He’s eyes are locked on her sex; his stallionhood now fully erect.
>You can see the veins protruding from its massive length, and its girth swelling with every pulse.
>”Please… I- I don’t know why I feel like this… I don’t want this… please….”
>Turning back to the stupid mare, you speak.
“You’ve proven yourself incapable of thinking for youself.”
“You have been disrespectful to the natural order; making stallions spill seed without purpose…”
"We own your body now, and we shall breed it as well see fit.”
>You turn to the stallion.
“Mount her.”
---------------
>Within seconds, the stallion climbs onto the mare.
>She struggles under his weight, but her restraints prevent her from falling.
>The stallion frantically struggles to find the his target; his stallionhood wildly jabs and pokes her legs, before setting into place.
>Spitfire speaks one last time.
>”PLEASE!!! I'LL DO ANYTHING! PL-“
>With a touch of magic, you close her mouth, and still her tongue.
>Tears now stream down her face, as the stallion prepares for his purpose.
>After a few moments he finds her entrance, and with one, all powerful thrust, he enters her body.
>His massive stallionhood entirely disappears into the delicate mare.
>Her neck arches back in shock, and a loud squeal fills the fair, before it falls low to the floor.
>Without a moment’s pause, the stallion continues his thrusting; his loud grunts filling the air.
>The noise of his testes slapping against her hips is loud enough to hear, and indicates the strength of his desires.
>Like a proper, submissive broodmare, Spitfire’s ears soon fall flat, and lay against her head.
>Her cries begin to hiccup, as each thrust from the stallion causes her lungs to contract.
>Raising your glass, you take a gentle sip of your wine.
>This is… almost relaxing to observe.
>Like fine art.
>A rebellious pony learns her place, and after years of whorsish behavior, fulfills a noble purpose.
>A stallion’s years of patience are finally rewarded with a fertile, mature womb for him to claim.
>The smells of sex and lust from two ponies fills the air, a clear sign of their desires.
>Were you some simple, average pony, you’d dare say this might be enough to  send you into heat yourself.
---------------
>You giggle at the idea of your maid hoof maid watching this display
>She’d probably try to secretly satisfy her mud pony urges without your knowledge.
>Perhaps she might try to find this stallion in his quarters later in the night, and beg for his attention.
>Perhaps she would beg you for the opportunity to simply clean his stallionhood.
>Such an animalistic creature she is.
>Such a long way for her to go.
>The sound of a particularly loud grunt snaps you back into the present.
>While the stallion isn’t yet complete, you can tell he is nearing his limit.
>His thrusting is becoming more erratic, and irregular.
>He uses his forehooves to pull himself deeper and deeper with every thrust.
>By now, his wings have fully extended, and his back muscles visibly flex in sync with his movements.
>You can also notice how Spitfire’s wings are pinned against their restraints.
>You giggle at the sight.
>It must be humiliating for her.
>Being bred by a total stranger.
>Having her body being put on display for him.
>While she is doing all she can to suppress her moans, you can still fainting her her squeals between thrust.
>She doesn’t want to let either of you know how much she is enjoying this.
>The puddle on the ground is testimony enough.
>Again, a loud moan fills the air.
>This time, the stallion is finishing.
>With two, deep thrust, he pulls Spitfire close, and holds her still.
>Her head sinks lower than ever before, and her eyes open wide.
They both stay still for a few, long moments, before the stallion gently thrust a few more times, ensuring his seed reaches its destination, before pulling out.
>His now limp stallionhood flops in the air, and drips from Spitfire’s juices.
>He looks to you briefly for commands.
>You nod, and he quickly leaves the room.
>Only you and Spitfire remain.
---------------
>A few moments pass.
>Eventually, you take a sip of wine, before standing.
>As you approach the once proud Captain of the Wonderbolts, all you can see is a sad, defeated mare.
>More importantly, a mare that has been inseminated.
>You remove your magic from her mouth.
>She doesn’t speak.
>Instead, she cries softly.
>You gently pet her mane.
”There there little filly, you’ve done good today…”
>She chokes over her words.
>”Please… please let me out of this…. I want to lay down… that’s all…. please…”
>You chuckle.
“We’re sorry little one, but you we're afraid you must stay like this for a few minutes, so that we can be sure his seed reaches your womb…”
>She shakes her head.
>”Please… please don’t… you can stop this… you have magic… you’re an Alicorn…”
>You lift her chin, and force her to make eye contact.
“You are right Spitfire, we could very well stop your inevitable pregnancy…”
>Her eyes open ever so slightly, and her ears twitch.
”We're sure that if we did, you would be a good, faithful pony, and respect my Crown…”
>She nods frantically.
>”Yes… please…”
“We're sure you would tell us everything you know about the rebellion, and it’s leaders, and your friends…”
>She nods…
“We're sure you would tell us about Soarin…”
>She recoils slightly, and looks away.
>Clearly, she didn’t think you knew.
>Yet, after a moment, she nods.
>You release her chin, and her head falls slightly.
>You smile.
“Then we see no reason why you couldn’t tell us this while with foal...”