May 14th, 2015
- >Be Anonymous in near future.
- >After a tough day of saving the free world by making sure all who hunger get fries with their meal, you just want to relax with your porn folder.
- >You start the computer. It seems to be taking longer than usual.
- >You finally get to the desktop and head for the p0rn.
- >WTF? The folder is almost empty. There's just two files: "instructions.txt" and "accept.exe".
- >Oh well, "instructions" sounds promising. Now what does it say:
- >"Dear Sir or Madam,
- >Your image files have been encrypted courtesy of BitchLocker. If you want them back, jack in, run accept.exe, and prepare your horsepussy.
- >Your New Master, bitch."
- >Great. Damn Horse Fucker Gang has got you. Sure, you could just re-download everything, but that would take weeks and you want to fap _now_.
- >Guess you have no choice, then. You start up the program. An unassuming window pops up with the text "Looking for connection..." and Colgate with an animated cutie mark hourglass. You head for the bed, lie down comfortably, and plug the VR cable in your headjack. The world fades away.
- >Light comes back to find you on all fours. It's surprisingly comfortable, seeing how you now have hooves. And a lime-green coat, it seems. No wings or a horn for you. Out of curiosity, you take a look at your flank. It has a fancy, calligraphed letters "OP" on it. Great, your special talent is being a faggot. You suppose it'll come in handy, seeing how you're about to get screwed by what'll likely be a man.
- >And speaking of the devil, that flash of light means the show is about to get started.
- >"Hello, Anonymous. I'm Anon."
- >The speaker is a nondescript shirtless green-skinned man. He's lean but with well-defined muscles. Despite yourself, you feel your feminine virtual parts getting warm. The simulation is translating sensory stimuli and your responses, just like it lets you walk naturally with two extra legs. Maybe this won't be so bad.
- >Anon slowly circle strafes you. The jerk is actually licking his lips as his eyes devour you. You know you'd get straight to business, so why does he drag this on? Your tail flicks in annoyance.
- >"Patience, patience." Anonymous grins at the show you accidentally gave him. Great, now he'll think you _want_ this. Well, you _were_ going to fap when all this started, and your mare parts are all hot and moist, and he's making you burn up, but still. What kind of mare-male does he take you as?
- >(The kind who took all of two seconds to decide to let a total stranger screw him for porn) Shut up, subconscious.
- "Get on with it already!"
- >You practically spit the words out.
- >He uses the back of his right hand to gently pet your side. Then, kneeling, he rubs your belly with the other one. You feel a wave of warmth go through you. His hand heads south and cups your crotchboob, and a moan escapes your snout.
- >"Just relax and enjoy it, faggot. We both know you do."
- "Me a faggot? I'm not the one blackmailing another man for sex, faggot."
- >"But you like being blackmailed. It lets you live all your weird fantasies and pretend you're a normalfag."
- >(He's got you there) Shut up, subconscious.
- >"Take it from one who knows. No one comes here who isn't a masochist."
- >Anon's finger reaches out to probe your entrance. You're wet as a waterfall. That proves nothing. It's just the simulation translating the stimulation. And making your (not yours! your avatars!) hips grind against his hand.
- >Still, it's a very _good_ simulation. You really feel - no, you rally _are_ a small sapient equine being fingered by a hulking alpha predator. You can't fight. You can't escape. Maybe if you satisfy its hunger the beast will let you go?
- >(You could log out any time, and besides, you're just a head shorter than him, just horizontally oriented and with hard striking surfaces attached to your limbs) Shut UP, subconscious!
- >Anon's right hand moves to your upper back and pushes your front down, while his left gently lifts your hips. Your tail lifts on its own as he moves behind you. You brace yourself as your velvety ears pinpoint the sound of his trousers hitting the ground. Your mare parts wink in invitation. And then he takes it.
- >You feel Anon's dick touch your entrance. Ever so slowly its tip parts your lips, and stalls there. Your rhythmic contractions squeeze his head, and you attempt to push back, but Anon's hands squeeze your flanks and hold you still.
- >"You know what I want to hear. Say it."
- >You lick your lips, the ones on the other end of you, and swallow the last of your pride.
- "Please... fuck me."
- >And he does. Anon pushes in. You gasp as you're filled in one long, slow stroke. He doesn't let up until his hips rest against your ass.
- >And then he fucks you.
- >Anon pulls his dick almost completely out. You push your hips back to take him back in. He obliges, and you moan as you are once again penetrated to your very core.
- >"Enjoying yourself, faggot?"
- >You can basically hear his smug grin. And what's the use denying it? You are his, and love every glorious second as Anon's shaft probes your insides.
- >You drop your head as he picks up speed. Your mane covers your face. You're practically drooling and making small noises every time your pussy is stretched open. You're still winking, too, the varying pressure against his shaft providing you with constant stimulation.
- >Your tail whips wildly from side to side. Do real horses have prehensile tails? Yours is like a fifth limb. A whiplike fifth limb covered with a thick, long, luxurious coat of fur not unlike your mane. Longer than your mane, actually. And that gives you an idea to regain some dignity. As Anon pushes in hard yet again you curl your tail around his hips and smack his ass. You can't get any real force on the strike, but he still makes a satisfying sound.
- >Heh. The bastard had that coming. Of course, you'll probably pay for that, but - any further thoughts are interrupted as Anon pulls out of you.
- >You turn your head to look over your shoulder, only to have your world make a cartwheel. Anon looms over you, his right hand still holding your left back (south east?) leg. Instinctively you curl all your limbs as the angry alpha predator falls on your stomach and penetrates you once again. Only this time every stroke is also rubbing him against your crotchboobs.
- >"That's what naughty mares get for becoming uppity."
- >Anon pulls himself up only to fall on you with his full weight over and over again. You pant and your tail curls up from between your legs to between his, against the same asscheeks it beat just seconds ago. You hug him with your forelimbs as best as you can and try to keep him close as his hips hammer yours.
- >Anon must be getting close. There's a hunger in his eyes that scares you. It makes you hornier than you've ever been before. You're not a pegasus but feel like you were floating on a cloud as his frantic movements push you over the edge. You surrender to him, and the world explodes.
- >When you come back down Anon is laying next to you and gently petting your side. His dick has lost most of its rigidity. A quick look down shows a mess of matted fur on your pubes.
- "Great, just great..."
- >You flick your ear in annoyance as his other hand teases it.
- >"Just log out and it'll all be gone, dummy."
- "Dummy? Aren't I a real bona fida faggot now?"
- >He leans in. You open your mouth to allow Anon to kiss you. You give him tongue and all. Guess you really are a faggot.
- >With that, the world fades out again.
- >When you wake up, the first thing you notice is that your trousers are dry. The next is that whoever wrote the simulation was a true master of their craft for you're feeling no disorientation whatsoever, despite suddenly changing species, gender and orientation, the last in more ways than one. Speaking of which, there's something you need to check.
- >You unplug the cord, get up and drag yourself to the computer. Your human form might not have come, but you're still feeling afterglow. You carefully avoid thinking about Anon for fear of what your reaction to his physique might reveal about you.
- >The program is still running. The window now has an image of a leering Lyra, who's body you can't help but notice bears uncanny resemblance to yours - you mean, to your virtual ponified avatar. There's also some text, let's see now.
- >"Congratulations, faggot, you have pleased the background ponies. Have your porn back. Until your master has use for you again."
- >"PS. Send LeeringLyra.png to some suitable recruit and run BootyCall.exe if you want to see the other side of the action."
- >Well. So this is how the virus spreads. "No one comes here who isn't a masochist." So Anon is both your master and someone else's bitch. And you could be as well.
- >It would be awful to do this horrible thing (Yeah right) Shut up subconscious! that was done to you to some unsuspecting latent masochist faggot. Who knows how far this chain letter of pony fucking now reaches? If it's not stopped, the whole world might end up alternating being the mare and the horsefucker!
- >(Wasn't there this image board full of faggots you frequent?) ...Keep talking, subconscious.
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