Fashion Horse Abuse Writing 3

>Ponyville doesn't have a red light destrict, as such. But the area past the train station is definitely the seedier low-rent part of town.

>As such, the drunken stallion stumbling home from his favorite dive bar isn't too surprised when he hears a whisper from a nearby alley.

>"Hey, hey buddy. Looking for a mare?" He thinks about it a bit. It has been a while since he did anything but slap his belly.

>He stumbles closer to the alleryway. He still can't spot the pimp. "How much?" he asks, trying not to sound too eager. They dicker.

>Price agreed, he enters the red door inside the alley to find a knockout of a unicorn, sleek, good skin, decent sized horn.

>Her flank's covered with a whorish dress and her face with its garish makeup is barely visible in the light. That's not what he's here for anyways.

>She raises her tail, looking away from him. His horsemeat slides out of his sheath, and he covers her, his body bearing down on hers.

>No small talk, no affection, just thrusting in her well lubed cunt. He uses her like a mobile sex toy, and when he comes in her that's it.

>The stallion leaves the whore behind without a glance, although he looks around the alley when he exits. "Just drop the bits," the pimp's voice orders him.

>He shrugs, does so, and leaves, details about the pony he just fucked already fading. He doesn't even hear the red door shut as Anon enters, money in hand.

>Inside the dimly lit room, Rarity is wiping between her legs with a tissue. A nearby trash can overflows with them, crusty and rank.

>She knows Anon is watching, and she can only wonder what she'll do wrong today. She always makes mistakes.

>Anon clears his throat. "Go take a bath - you reek," he mutters, and then he turns to dispose of the waste.

>Rarity sighs. He seems in a better mood than usual, and it's with a light heart that she starts filling the tub.

>When it's half-full, she jumps in, and the grime and muck from the stallions Anon brought to use her starts washing away.

>Anon comes in and watches her, silently. Perhaps he did well at bargaining today. Maybe her debt to him is almost paid.

>She can't wait for the day when she doesn't have to do this any more, doesn't have to sell herself to random strange.

>And Anon promised her when she paid it off, he wouldn't make her do this. It'll be just her and Anon. She's so happy she hums a few bars.

>Anon's hand closes around her shoulder, and she starts trembling before she stops, willing her body to behave. Anon doesn't like that.

>"My dear Anon, w-what's wrong?" She wants to apologize for having her voice crack. He doesn't like that either. But silence is best now.

>"Why am are you humming, Rarity?" He squeezes tighter, almost painfully. "Does being a whore make you happy?"

>Rarity has to think now. She doesn't want to say 'No', and imply Anon's plan for her is wrong.

>But she doesn't want to say 'Yes', and let her very special someone think she actually enjoys the soreness, the stink of drunken stallions pawing at her with their dirty hooves.

>And she doesn't want to take took long and make Anon think she's ignoring him.

>"Anon, I was just think-" He slaps her across the face, once, twice. Oh, Rarity, you did it again, she thinks.

>"I asked you a question. Yes or no. And we both know what happens when you 'think', Rarity."

>Anon backhands her, and Rarity's tossed against the edge of the tub. A red drop drips from her nose into the water.

>Anon takes the large mirror from the wall and throws it past her, shattering it, glass shards everywhere.

>Rarity pinches her nose with her hooves and tilts her head back, as she's learned to do.

>Anon's ranting and raving about her and her betrayal, and it breaks her heart that she did this to him.

>When he comes at her, both hands grasping for her neck, she doesn't try to escape.

>When she shoves her under the water, she doesn't try to fight back.

>She just stares up at him, holding her breath, wishing she could take back that night, that it never happened.

>Even as her lungs burn, she knows that if she's generous enough to him, that the old Anon she loved so much will come back. He'll forgive her for cheating on him with Applejack.

>And he shows it when he hauls her back up, and then rubs her back as she lies draped over the tub's lid, coughing.

>"Rarity, I'm sorry, it's just you get me so mad sometimes, you know." She murmurs out an apology for upsetting him.

>"Well, that mirror's going on your debt." She nods weakly. It's the least she can do. She just has to be patient.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Request

Could you write anon forcing rarity to prostitute? Because you know, he thinks she's a whore and if she's going to whore herself out, she might at least make some money while doing it.

 

Bonus points if anon bring her customers himself and then beats her up for her infidelity.