(COMPLETE) Midnight Berries

>You are Nightmare Moon.
>Empress of the Equestrian Empire.
>And you are reading papers.

>Royal expense reports to be precise.
>You sit comfortably on your cushion, with a cup of tea steaming beside you.
>You casually turn the pages, reviewing the various accounts used to fund the Royal Ground’s upkeep.
>It’s no short list.
>Normally, you don’t personally review such trivial paperwork at all; you have staff for that.
>This time however, you aren’t reviewing them for the normal reasons.
>…
>…
"There you are."
>You look down at the particular line of expenses you’ve seen searching for.
>The expenditures of the Royal Infirmary.
>Various herbs, elixirs, and other remedies populate the page.
>The list is over three pages long, and contains nearly every ingredient known to have a beneficial effect on the equine form.
>You scan through the materials, and look that their corresponding cost and purchase amounts.
>Leisurely, you look at the other document you have with you.
>The infirmary records.
>This document contains a definite report on every single medical event that occurs in the Royal Infirmary.
>More importantly, it records every time that an ingredient is used, and in what quantity.
>You scan over the document, and quickly find all the evidence you need.
>Or rather, the evidence that he needs.
>You already knew the truth; this evidence is simply so that he can’t deny his wrongdoings.
---------------
>You take hold of a nearby piece of parchment and quill, and quickly write a brief note requesting a guard, before teleporting it to the guard post inside the castle.
>Within a few moments, a lone guard pony enters your chambers.
>Dropping into a deep bow, he speaks in a calculated manner.
>”You summoned a guard Empress?”
“You may rise my little pony.”
>Slowly, he returns to his hooves.
“We are in need of the Royal Doctor. We fear that we may be coming down with a cold.”
>Without hesitation, the stallion quickly replies.
>”Yes your Highness. May I be of any further assistance?”
>You take a sip of your tea.
“I’m afraid not. Please hurry though.”
>He nods and bows yet again, before turning toward the door, and leaving.
>Just before the door closes, you make a final request.
>”Please do make sure that he has all of his supplies with him. We wish to be well as soon as possible.”
>The guard looks over his shoulder and nods yet again, before leaving, the door closing behind him.
---------------
>A few minutes pass in calm.
>Than two loud knocks echo from your chamber’s doors, before the doctor enters your room.
>”The guard said that you were ill your highness, so I came here as quickly as I could…”
>You sit for a few moments sipping your tea, and simply observe the stallion infront of you.
“I’m afraid you are mistaken my little pony, I’m in perfectly good health.
>He raises his eyebrow skeptically.
>”But the guard said-“
“The guard said that we were ill.”
>”Yes…”
“We are afraid that we misinformed him. We have summoned you here for another reason.”
>You gesture with your head toward the cushion directly across from you.
“Please, take a seat. We have much to discuss.”
>Slowly, and perhaps cautiously, he makes his way toward the cushion before sitting down.
>Silence overtakes the room, and the clearly uncomfortable pony sits in silence.
>You decide to start the conversation.
“So my little pony, what is your name?”
>You continue to look down at your papers, as if disinterested in him.
>”My name? My name is- um- Dr. Healing Touch your highness.”
>You continue to turn through the papers, appearing to be busy.
“Very well Dr. Touch, do you know why I summoned you here today?”
>He shakes his head softly.
>”No- no. I’m afraid not your highness.”
Casually, you pull two pieces of paper from the stack beside you, and place them in front of him.
“Would you care to explain these, Dr. Touch?”
---------------
>He takes a few moments to look at them.
>But when he realizes what they are, you notice his entire body language shift.
>”I- um. I don’t understand what these are for your Highness.”
“Come now my little pony. Let’s not play games shall we?”
>You pull the papers back, and look at them yourself.
“It appears that you have been stealing some very expensive ingredients from the Royal Pharmacy.”
>Immediately he tries to deny it.
>”That’s- that’s ridiculous! I wouldn’t steal from the pharmacy!”
>His cracking voice makes his lies easy to detect.
“Don’t try to deceive us Touch. We are your Empress, and you would do well to remember that we know the affairs of all of our subjects.”
>Surprisingly, he continues to deny.
>”Your highness, please. I did not steal anything! I swear it!”
>Becoming annoyed with his antics, you offer him one last chance to beg for mercy.
“Admit your guilt and we shall be… lenient… with our punishment.”
>...
>Lenient.
>The word stings as it leaves your tongue.
>...
>Yet, as expected, the foolish stallion continues his denial.
>”We didn’t steal anything your highness! Please! You must believe us!”
>You don’t immediately respond, allowing him to marinate in his lies.
>As time slowly moves by, you watch as his eyes begin to move side to side, in an apparent attempt to avoid meeting your gaze.
---------------
"Very well my little pony."
>You return the papers to a box laying beside you.
“We see that you have lost your respect for your Empress.”
>His eyes immediately grow wide, and he frantically shakes his head.
>”Empress Plea-!!!”
>You silence his cries with your magic, forcing his fountain of lies shut.
>Then slowly, you open yet another box to your left, and remove a glass bottle.
“We offered you a chance to earn our mercy, and you have declined it.”
>You gently place the bottle on the ground between you and the stallion; gently, they click as they touch the marble floors.
“We have proof of your theft.”
>You smile gently as you see his eyes beginning to water.
“Did you honestly believe that we would simply summon you here upon suspicion?”
>You lift the bottle, and spill on contents onto the floor between you.
>A small number of black berries spill onto the ground, rolling a few inches before coming to a rest.
“These are Midnight Berries correct?
>Closing his eyes, he nods gently.
“Now, the inventory suggest that we have 35 of these currently in our possession; yet I only see 20 here.”
>You use your magic, and remove his saddlebags, placing them on the ground beside the berries.
>Swiftly, you remove another small glass bottle from his saddle bag, and pour it’s contents on the ground.
“And there are only five more berries in your medical kit my little Touch.”
“So where are the ten missing berries?”
>You release your magic on his mouth, allowing him to speak.
---------------
>Immediately, he speaks.
>”Please! Please I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to steal these from you- I mean- I-“
>Humored by his antics, you question him.
“You didn’t mean to steal them? Come now my little colt. You don’t /accidentally/ steal 1500 bits worth of ingredients from the Royal Infirmary.”
>Completely lost for words, he stumbles in his attempt to reply.
>”I- um I didn’t mean that I accidentally stole them. I- I just wanted to um… to experiment with them at home…”
>Not mislead by his pathetic lies, you take your turn to speak.
“Come now colt. We both know why you stole these berries, don’t we?”
>You lift one up to your eye level, and look at it closely.
>It’s not dissimilar to a blueberry upon first glance.
>Yet, as you turn it, you come across it’s signature white dot at the bottom.
“Midnight Berries. Tell me, what are they used for Touch?”
>Given a moment to think, he manages to construct an accurate response.
>”Midnight Berries? They are- um… They are used as a sleeping aid to help ponies with insomnia.”
>You smile.
“They can also be used to incapacitate a mare, can’t they?”
>You make eye contact.
>He’s eyes grow wide, as he realizes your suggestion.
>”NO! I didn’t do that! I didn’t use them to- to rape ponies! I’m a doc-”
>You again, force his mouth shut.
"You’re filth, nothing more."
>He shakes his head, desperately trying to deny the truth.
>You easily pick him up, and levitate his body in the air in front of you, turning him, so that you have a profile view of his pathetic form.
---------------
"We don’t blame you. Look at this pathetic excuse for a stallion.”
“Your barely more than a glorified colt, and a plump one at that.”
>You use magic to brush his mane.
>He tries to turn his head, hiding his embracement.
“We aren’t surprised that the only way you could get a mare is by drugging them, and using their bodies.”
>By now, tears are streaming down his face as they escape his closed eyes.
>His ears lay completely flat against his head.
“Truly, no mare could ever find you attractive.”
>You rip out a small portion of his mane, forcing him to squeal like a mare in pain.
“I can barely stand to look at you myself, so low is your breeding.”
>You turn your attention back to his medical bag, and retrieve a few more ingredients, as well as a mortar and pestal.
>You place hold a Midnight Berry above the mortar, and gently, squeeze out exactly two drops, which fall into the mortar.
>Releasing your magic holding his mouth closed, you ask him a question.
“Tell me little colt, how many mares have you molested?”
>At this point, he is clearly too scared to think straight, or even effectively answer your question.
>”Please… don’t kill me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please don’t hurt me. Please…”
>Ignoring his pleas, you speak.
“Your Empress asked you a question did she not? Answer it, or death will be a mercy, not a punishment.”
>”Please… oh please Empress…. I- seven! Seven mares! I swear that’s all! Please!”
>…
>Seven mares.
>His tally takes you by surprise.
>You look over his pathetic form again with renewed interest.
>Seven mares?
>Surely this… supposedly educated pony would see that he is undesirable.
>More importantly, surely he should know that his lineage need not continue.
>Yet he tired to breed seven times?
>Not a single drop of his seed took, yet he attempted to breed seven mares?
---------------
“Open your eyes colt.”
>He hesitates, he sniffles softly.
>”Please… I’m sorry…”
>You reach into his saddle bag yet again, and remove a short, slender blade form it’s sealed case.
>If your recent reading is correct, you believe the medical field refers to them as “scalpels.”
>Regardless, you gently place it against his neck, allowing the cold hard metal to touch his tender neck.
“Open your eyes, or we shall open your neck.”
>Immediately his eyes open, but before he has the opportunity to speak, you interrupt.
“Good.”
>You remove the blade from his neck, and hold it at the end of his snout.
>Almost instantly, his eyes fix upon it.
“Tell us colt. You attempted to breed with seven of our subjects did you not?”
>”W-what? I didn’t try to get anyone pregnant… I just…”
“Don’t lie to us foal. We both know exactly how successful that was last time.”
>He takes a few, long moments to gather himself.
>You can hear him crying, struggling to control his breathing.
>”Please Empress… I didn’t try to… have... foals…”
>…
>That sounded different than before.
>After countless ponies begging for mercy from you, you’ve begun to recognize the sound of a truly hopeless, honest pony.
>And that was it.
>But if he wasn’t trying to breed, what was he trying to do?
>Judging by the records, he is the last of his lineage.
>No brothers, sisters, or even close cousins to speak of.
>Intrigued, you decide to question him further.
“So than colt, if you didn’t seek a foal, what were your intentions?”
---------------
>His reply is surprisingly quick.
>Perhaps he thinks his cooperation will help.
>So optimistic these ponies are, even when faced with their Empress.
“I- I just wanted to have sex! Honest! Please. That’s all…”
>You forcibly turn his head away from you, causing him to again sequel with a hint of pain.
>This is… confusing.
>He simply wanted to have sex?
>Yet he had to drug mares to do it?
>You’ve seen the reports from your guards.
>Canterlot has no shortage of whorses.
>You’ve even employed some yourself to infiltrate rebel groups.
>Why didn’t he just use them?
>Why didn’t he just use his hoof?
>You release his head.
“You wanted... pleasure?”
>He nods slowly.
>”Ye-yeah…”
“So than why not seek the comfort of a whorse? Are the stables too expensive for your Royal Commission to afford?”
>He shakes his head.
>”No… that’s not it. I just…”
“‘I just’ what? Tell us colt.”
>He takes pause, tears now falling from his snout onto the floor.
>”You- I- I don’t know…”
>Unconvinced by his protest, you continue your question.
“You do know colt. Tell us.”
>”Don’t make me say it… please…”
>You smile gently.
“We will not force you to say anything colt. You simply have the option of telling us…”
>You raise the blade to his eye level again.
“Or death…”
---------------
>Finally, he speaks.
>”Ok… just… We… We wanted attractive mares…”
>Lies.
“Attractive? We can assure you that Canterlot’s whorses satisfy many stallions’ well enough.”
>He shakes his head.
>”That’s not it. Stable whorses  aren’t… innocent. They’re too experienced.”
>”We like… innocent mares. The “good mares…”
>”It makes us feel… important…”
>…
>In some surprising way, it makes sense.
>He wants to feel power.
>Dominance.
>…
“So what you are saying, my little colt, is that you like… mares of… noble bloodlines.”
>He slightly raises his brow, as if unsure of what you said.
>”Um… I think…”
>Pathetic.
>Even with his comfortable place in society, he still tried to cheat his way into the ranks of lesser nobility.
>Why don’t these ponies know there place?
>Had your sister truly corrupted society to this extent?
---------------
>She had.
>It’s clear that you must teach this colt of his true place in society.
>Your gaze returns to the mortar, and the two drops of Midnight Berry it contains.
“Tell us foal, are you a noble?”
>He shakes his head.
>”No. No I’m not.”
>As you speak, you reach into his saddle bags, and remove nine small vials of various ingredients.
>Without him noticing, you remove a small sample from each, place them into the mortar, and begin grinding them together.
“And were your ancestors nobles?”
>He shakes his head yet again.
>”No your highness. My parents were librarians.”
“So then colt, tell us, why do you think yourself worthy of pleasuring a noble?”
>His head drops.
>”I- I know what I did was wrong. I’m sorry, but if you let me, maybe I can fix this…”
“No. You’ve soiled the wombs of seven noble mares. Now they are useless; you cannot simply fix that.”
>”Useless? What do you-“
“And we suppose that if given the opportunity, you would not hesitate to spoil your Empress?”
>His eyes grow wide.
>”No! No! I-I wouldn’t do that! I-“
“Silence foal. We shall teach you the true order of dominance.”
“You shall learn your place at the hooves of your betters.”
---------------
>You look back at the mortar, and see the finely grinned powder that it now contains.
>You reach into the doctor’s bags, and retrieve a vial of water, before pouring it into the mortar.
>With a few quick stirs, the powder mixes into the drink with ease.
>Looking back up to the colt, you notice his fear.
>He is shaking softly, his eyes forced close.
>You raise the potion to his lips, and allow the mortar to touch his chin, causing him to flinch back.
“Open your mouth stallion. Drink.”
>He turns to you in fear.
>”What- what is that? Is it poison?? Please… I’m so sorry… please don’t kill me… plea-“
“DRINK! We have had enough of your insolence!”
>Resigned to his fate, the colt opens his mouth, and places his lips onto the mortar.
>You slowly tilt it toward, releasing its contents into the stallion’s mouth.
>In a few moments, he finishes drinking, and you slowly place the cup onto the ground.
>…
>Now, you watch.
---------------






>The aphrodisiac takes effect almost immediately.
>The stallion begins to shift.
“Do you feel that colt?”
>He lowers his head, as if concentrating on something.
>”What- what was that?”
>You chuckle.
“It was simply water my colt.”
>You watch as his stallionhood begins to slowly extend from his sheath.
>A few, suppressed grunts escape his mouth.
>"That- umm- that wasn’t water…”
“Are you questioning our word colt?”
>He diverts his gaze, a mixture of anger, confusion, and pleasure plastered onto his face.
>Gently, you use your magic to rub his testicles, causing a few more moans to escape.
“Just relax… This feels good, does it not?”
>He nods his head.
>You chuckle.
“Such a simple creature you are. Years of medical education, yet you crumble after the least bit of stimulation…”
>At this point, you aren’t even particularly sure if he can hear you.
>His gaze looks distant; his senses are completely overwhelmed.
>In no particular rush to end his apparent pleasure, you continue to fondle him for a minutes.
>...
>...
>...
>By now, his stallionhood is hanging from his underside fully erect.
>You can practically see the blood pulsing through his veins.
“You see? Even being in the mere presence of Royalty sends you into uncontrollable lust.”
---------------
>”umm…”
“You want us don’t you? You want to rut your Empress like a one of those innocent mares you abused, don’t you?”
>You move your magical grasp from his testis to his girth, and slowly, meticulously, caress it.
>Almost immediately, he tries to thrust himself into your magical grasp, desperate to deposit his seed into a mare that doesn’t exist.
>After generously granting him a few thrust, you hold his hips still, denying him any further pleasure.
>”N-no… please…. more…”
>You audibly laugh.
>Surprisingly, this only causes his ears to perk up.
>…
>At least he’s listening.
>…
>You move his body closer to your own, holding him only a foot or two from you.
“Yes... you desire your Empress don’t you? You crave our touch, our scent…”
>You pull him even closer, positioning his ear next to your mouth.
“Our sex…”
>”Ummm…. please….”
>You can feel him trying to move his hips from your restraints, but you easily deny him.
>You move him back a few feet, bringing his full body into view.
>His hind muscles are visibly straining, but to no avail.
>Looking into his eyes, you can’t help but giggle.
“You truly thought we would pleasure with our body didn’t you?”
>He groans some inaudible phrase.
>You pull his mane.
“Didn’t you?”
>Realizing you expect an answer, he tries to reply.
>”We…n-mmmm- ye- nooo! we-mmmm didn’t…”
---------------
>You truly can’t help but find the sight in front of you humorous.
>So lost in his lust, he can barely form a coherent sentence.
“We know you are thinking about us right now, there is no need tUo deny that truth."
>You gently stroke his length again, and again, he tries to thrust.
“Tell us, what part of your Empress are you fantasizing about?"
“Is it our mane?”
>He groans.
“Do you imagine nuzzling it as you mount us? Or having it fall onto your shoulders as we impale ourself on top of your firm, muscular body?”
>You continue to stroke him.
“Is it our flanks? How they would provide support for your weight, and a firm anchor for your conquest of our body?"
>By now, he is letting out soft, almost feminine squeals.
"Is it our voice? How you would make us scream your name, echoing it off of the walls of our chambers?”
“Or perhaps it is our coat. Soaking it in your sweat before painting it with your pure, white seed.”
>You change your stroking, and touch only the tip of his length.
>”yes…”
>You smile.
>You didn’t actually think he would admit to his primal lust.
“Is it our mouth? Having our tongue gently massage your pride, and hungrily drowning your precious gift?”
>You change your grasp to accurately match your words.
“Or is it our sex, and having the body of your Empress desperately trying to claim your essence?”
>You stop stroking his length by the tip, and in one smooth motion, envelope his entire length.
>His grunts and groans seemingly peak.
“You would be our consort, our object of lust…”
“You would sire the Royal Heir.”
“And we would be your humble, obedient, broodmare…"
---------------
>You release his hips, and watch as he desperately thrust into your grip.
>Louder than ever before, his increasingly stressed, primal grunts fill the air.
>Like livestock.
>Then one minute passes.
>Then two.
>Then three.
>Then five.
>You can see the sweat beginning to drip from his shoulders, and his eyes squinting harder than before.
>The veins on his length look as if they are about to burst.
>...
>You sip your tea.
>…
>Then, finally, he speaks.
>”Why… ummm… why can’t I….”
>Like answering a foal, you reply.
“Why can’t you have release?”
>He nods with almost impossible vigor.
>You chuckle.
“We told you before colt, you aren’t /worthy/ of pleasuring a noble.”
“And you most certainly aren’t worthy of pleasuring your Empress.”
>In denial, he continues thrusting.
>”No… please… we need…mmm.. need this….”
>Deciding to play with him more, you quickly mix another dose of the potion, before lifting the mortar to his mouth yet again.
>Without a moment of hesitation he quickly drinks the elixir, even licking the empty cup, desperate for even a single drop more of the liquid pleasure.
---------------
“Tell us colt, how badly do you want release?”
>His frustration peaking, he continues his maddening thrust.
>”Anything!…. errr... um… please….”
>You realize your magical grip on him, causing him to drop to the floor with a thump.
>You watch as his eyes realize that he is no longer being stimulated, before, just as quickly, his hoof races to his groin.
>He strokes himself furiously, desperately trying get the release you know he will not find.
“And want could you possibly offer your Empress in exchange?”
>Panic is added to the mixture of emotions on his face.
>He doesn’t have anything to offer you.
>You know it.
>He knows it.
>”I… please…. I need this…”
“So you have nothing to offer us, do you?"
>In lustful defeat, he nods.
>To get his attention, you remove restrain his hoof from his length, leaving it unattended.
>He begins to pant.
“You see colt, you have nothing to offer those above you.”
>You lift his chin, making him face you.
“Yet you broke the social order for your own selfish, foolish wants and desires.”
>Tears are streaming down his eyes.
>All you can hear is him muttering the word “please.”
>Casually, you reach into his saddle bag, and retrieve another set of ingredients.
>You mix them together in the mortar, and add another vial of water, creating another potion.
---------------
>You place the mortar down in front of him, and beside your left fore hoof.
>As soon as he sees it, he tries to crawl forward.
>You stop him, and force eye contact yet again.
“Have you learned your lesson colt?”
>He nods weakly.
“And what was that lesson?"
>He a moment to focus his thoughts before speaking.
>”That we… we aren’t worthy of nobility… worthy of you…"
>You smile.
“Very good colt. Then we shall forgive your offenses, and allow you release.”
>He closes his eyes, and swipers “thank you,” over and over.
“Kiss our hoof.”
>He looks up, confusion in his eye.
>”Wha-“
“Kiss our hoof. Show us that you know your place colt.”
>His mind realizes you are in no mood to negotiate, and his groin tells him he still hasn’t climaxed.
>So slowly, he crawls forward.
>It’s almost dramatically slow.
>Like you are witnessing him learn his place.
>It takes a small eternity before he nears your hoof.
>And then, his lips make silent contact.
>You watch as his body shutters; his muscle contracting uncontrollably in ecstasy.
>…
>You sip your tea.
>…
>By the time you return the cup to it’s saucer, his lips have slipped from your hoof guard, and his body lies limp on the ground.
---------------
>You let a few minutes pass, as the pony gathers himself.
>You lift the mortar from beside your hoof, and place it at his lips.
”Drink.”
>Absentmindedly, he places his hooves onto the mortar, and tilts it back, drinking the contents.
>You smile.
>”Thank you Empress.”
>You smile.
“You see my little pony, even the simple touch of your Empress is enough to send you into euphoria.”
>He doesn’t respond.
“It’s of no matter though, with your newly found impotence, you won’t be able to soil any mares ever again.”
>His eyes shoot open.
>”W-what….”
>You chuckle.
“Oh… didn’t you know? What did you think that last drink was? Water?”
“No my little colt, it prevents you from ever finding pleasure, and prevents your filthy stallionhood from unsheathing.
>His voice reeks of disbelief.
>”But… but why…"
“Because you can’t be trusted my little colt. Just because we forgave you, doesn't mean we trust you.”
---------------
>”You... Gelded me..."
>You shake your head.
"No colt, we did not. You will still have all of your normal urges and desires; simply no release."
>His voice beings to sound stressed.
>But if I can't become erect, how am I supposed to... you know..."
>You smile.
"You are a Doctor; we are sure that you are aware of... alternative methods of pleasure..."
>"You- you don't mean-"
"We made no suggestions colt. You may deal with your situation however you like."
>He sits silently for a few seconds.
>"I... I think I might geld myself.
>You raise an eyebrow, faking suprise.
"Oh? And why would you do that? "There is an antidote after all..."
>His ears perk up.
>"An antidote?!"
"Yes my colt, and antidote; and we shall provide it to you if you prove yourself worthy."
>"Worthy? What do you mean worthy?"
"You've displayed clear disrespect to your betters, and we feel this may help...  end that habit."
>You glance at the clock.
“We are done here, you may leave now, we have a meeting to attend.”
>”Bu-“
“‘But’ what colt? Do you want to add more time to your sentence of impotence?”
>He looks at you in confusion, before realizing your implication.
>”No! No your Highness, we are sorry we just..."
>His voice lowers.
>"Please, let us gather our things, and we will be gone.”
>You watch, as he gathers his supplies, and tosses them into his saddle bag, before placing the bag onto his back.
>”Is there anything else you need Empress?”
>You shake your head.
“We are afraid not Dr. Touch,  but we shall bill you 3000 for the stolen goods.”
>He drops into a deep bow, and kisses your hoof guard yet again.
>”Very well your Highness, thank you.”
>You smile as he leaves.
>Just as the door closes, you interrupt his exit.
"Oh, and Dr. Touch?"
>He turns around.
>"Yes Empress?"
"We shall be arranging your permenant residence in the barracks until your current problem is resolved."
>His face drains.
>"The- the barracks? But I'm not a guard!"
>You lower your tone.
"Is there a problem Dr. Touch? Are you questioning your Empress' decision?"
>His head lowers.
>"N-no Empress... we understand, and are.. thankful..."
"very well, you may leave then"
>The door clicks closed behind him.
>…
>You sip your tea.
>…
>Perhaps he will earn his stallionhood back.
>Perhaps not.
>Either way, he will be a good sport about it.
>He has no other option.