Title:           Springtime 2
Author:          daydreams-writefag
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/vHbFfqsA
First Edit:      Saturday 12th of April 2014 04:11:54 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Saturday 12th of April 2014 04:11:54 PM CDT

Day four.
 
Day four of mad, burning need. Day four of being completely ruled by your lust.
 
You wake up with your fur matted, heavy with sweat. You can smell yourself on the bed below you, on the air around you, on yourself. To your owner, you must smell like sex.
 
You must have been dreaming, because it takes you a moment to reorient yourself. You’re on your back, twisted tightly into your blanket. Your back hooves are splayed up into the corners of your cage, as if you were trying to rub yourself up against the wire bars.
 
You spend some moments trying to chase down your dreams, to escape back into a fantasy where you were free and surrounded by stallions and mares all eager to satisfy you. The images flit away from you, filling your consciousness for a while, but eventually wakefulness wins. You already slept as much of yesterday away as possible, and now your body is awake. Wide awake, and just as needy as it was earlier.
 
You carefully extricate your legs and wings from the blanket. You must have been thrashing around, give how tangled up in it you are. After a bit, you stand free - free to pace the confines of your cage.
 
It’s a pegasus and a bit long, and a bit less than a pegasus wide, and about one pegasus high. You know this, because you’ve been twisting around trying to get comfortable (you can’t.) You can freely circle - which you do, several times - and you can stretch your legs and your wings. Just not at once. Still, having to go through the motions of stretching distracts you for all of twenty seconds. You’re halfway through your back right leg when you catch yourself running your eyes down your muscles greedily.
 
Your mind is so twisted and desperate for sex you’re willing to check yourself out.
 
You shake your head, sending your ragged mane everywhere.
 
You lie down against one of the walls of your cage, trying to enjoy the coolness of the metal.
 
You try to wait.
 
You can’t.
 
You force yourself to hold still until it physically hurts, and then your willpower is exhausted.
 
It’s been an entire day, you need sex, and no freaking petco brand dog crate is going to keep you from hot sex.
 
You think you scream. You throw yourself at the door, and you feel the metal bow outwards. The latches strain, but hold you in. You gnaw on the bars, strike your head against the door, and then turn around. Bracing yourself, you kick backwards as hard as possible.
 
Your hooves clang against the bars, over and over. It hurts, but it feels so good - the pain, the energy, the exertion. If you weren’t so cooped up you’d fly a million miles and fuck a million stallions. The only thing standing in your way is a few thin pieces of metal.
 
You kick again and again, feeling the metal withstand your abuse. You don’t even care anymore, you’re just enjoying the feeling of struggling. (You’d love to struggle in the relentless embrace of some hot stallion so much right now) This cage was built for vicious dogs, a little flighty pegasus would never manage to get out…
 
But then, you get lucky. Something gives, something scrapes, and one of the pieces that holds the top together is bent just enough that maybe…
 
You kick away in double time, firing away, panting in joyful exertion. Eventually, the top latch bends enough that you can force it free from the loop of wire that holds it in place. You press against the top, and with enough leverage…
 
Flimsy petco dog crates aren’t smart enough to hold a pegasus.
 
You lost a few feathers squeezing through the gap you made, but it doesn’t matter. You’re free! You take a celebratory lap around the garage where you were kept before gathering your bearings.
 
It looks like early morning. You stand on your hind legs and fumble with the door knob until it lets you in. Nothing is going to keep you from your desires now. Your owner sleeps upstairs and you make a beeline for him.
 
He’s still out. Luckily, your struggles were far away in the house to not wake him. You stalk onto his bed and carefully eye his only article of clothing - a pair of boxers. You nuzzle up one of the legs, looking for his precious manhood, before deciding the clothes need to go.
 
Giving up on all subtlety, you grab the waistband with your teeth and pull it down. He wakes with a shout, but you’re on top of him, your eyes staring into his hungrily. You’re already grinding against him, and his body betrays him - you can feel him stiffening beneath you.
 
“Hey…?”
 
He could throw you off easily, but he’s dazed and you take full advantage of it. You stare into his eyes with all of your hunger and simply growl. He tries to roll over, but you place your hooves against his chest and press down. It’s not much weight, but it’s enough that he almost surrenders. You force yourself onto him. He’s half erect, now, and your furious grinding against him is working wonders.
 
He twists a bit, and you lower yourself into him. He tries to raise one of his hands, but you put a hoof against his wrist and pin him down with the pure force of need. He opens his mouth to speak, but you lean in close and hiss,
 
“You’re mine right now.”
 
He stops struggling, and you continue until he’s excited enough to take him inside of you. You press up against him, taking him as far inside of you as he can go right now, and feel him swell up against you. You ride him up and down, lost in the sensations rushing up your spine. He’s little more than a toy beneath you as you buck and twist, trying to scratch the itch that burns deep within you.
 
You stop trying to control him and lean back, almost sitting upright, lifting yourself up and down with your haunches. His stiffness reaches a special place inside of you and suddenly you are on fire, blind and numb to everything but pleasure.
 
You speed up, forcing him into your g-spot over and over, letting your brains leak out your nethers as you build up to a climax. Your fur stands on end, starting from your rear, and your tail thrashes around wildly. You’re almost there…
 
Something lifts you off and holds you up in the air. You flail your legs and your wings, trying to push back down only to find yourself completely deprived of leverage. You moan and beg and plead and hump furiously at the air but it’s nothing. You’ve been denied your release, and it hurts so, so much.
 
You try to blink away tears but you can’t. You try to compose yourself, but you can’t. You were so close, and now the only thing that greets your desperate marehood is cool air.
 
Your owner is speaking.
 
“Pet, pet, pet, pet, listen to me…”
 
You struggle against his hands, but they’re wrapped securely around your waist and you can’t get any weight behind you.
 
“Pet, I left you in your cage, didn’t I?”
 
You beg. “Please master, please, please I didn’t mean too, just let me finish…”
 
“No.”
 
You plead and beg as he rights himself, all while continuing to hold you helpless a foot in the air.
 
He doesn’t set you down. He holds you under one arm, pinned to his side, as he walks downstairs to the garage, you crying the entire way down. At first you’re worried he’s going to simply return you to your cage, but after he stops and inspects the damage you’ve done it becomes clear he has bigger plans.
 
Still carrying you under his arm, he pulls a sawhorse out from the corner of the garage and drags it to the center of the room. He pulls a coil of rope off of a hook and sets it on the ground nearby. He then takes you in both hands and rests you down, belly first, on the sawhorse.
 
It’s a little bit taller than you, so your legs hang down, not touching the ground, parallel to the legs of the sawhorse. You’re still suffering from being denied, but it’s hard and metal, all edges in the wrong places, and so you leave yourself dangling for a moment.
 
He loops a few coils of rope around your front left leg, binding it to the leg of the sawhorse. He manages to secure your front right leg as well before you catch on to what he’s doing, but by then it’s too late. You can do little more than kick your back legs uselessly before he grabs them, forces them down, and ties them to the other two legs of the sawhorse.
 
You’re spread and helpless like a piece of furniture. Your body is supported by the body of the sawhorse, but your head sticks out a bit and your tail is free to swish around wildly.
 
“I can’t believe you, pet. You broke your cage, almost hurt yourself, and then took advantage of me.” He stops and looks over you, checking his handiwork. One trussed up pegasus, completely immobilized. “You need to learn your lesson.”
 
He pulls down his boxers, freeing his cock, which stands erect. It looks like you were at least successful in exciting him. You push against your bonds and try to present yourself to him, your tail swishing away seductively.
 
“No, pet. I’m not going to let you come just yet. You need to learn not to be so selfish. You need to please me, first.”
 
He steps forward and weaves his fingers through your mane. He grabs you, pulling on it, hard. You open your mouth to cry out and he slips his free hand between your teeth, spreading it wide open. He steps forward and pushes himself into your mouth. He pulls you forward by the mane, shoving himself deeper towards your throat.
 
You can taste yourself on him.
 
“And watch those teeth - if you hurt me, I’ll leave you like this for a week.”
 
He thrusts into you, while you lap at him hungrily. Just being this close to him is enough to excite you. You pull against the legs of the sawhorse while you reach for him, trying to please him with your tongue and lips, knowing he’s your only hope for release. Either kind.
 
He takes a moment to just savor your efforts before doubling his grip on your mane and pulling you still closer to him, forcing his tip into your throat. He holds you there as you begin to gag and struggle wildly for air, pulling out just long enough for you to recover your breath before thrusting in again.
 
He leaves you coughing and gasping, slumped against the top of the sawhorse.
 
A few steps bring him behind you. You gather the energy to lift your hindquarters up, asking him to finally satisfy you.
 
“Not yet. You need to be punished, first.”
 
He spanks you once, a sharp crack that leaves you trying to leap away and only moving the sawhorse slightly. He grabs you by the plot, feeling your fur, your muscles, running his fingers along your cutie mark. It’s like he’s feeling you down to your core.
 
You feel his powerful hands grab your rear and spread your cheeks. He takes a deep breath, and then you feel it. His dick, penetrating you in a way you’ve never taken it before.
 
He forces himself inside of you slowly, but it still hurts. You feel yourself stretching to accommodate him as he reaches deeper into you. Your eyes squint shut and you find yourself squeaking in pain, but he continues. You try to squirm forward but just pull against the ropes that hold you in place. He leans forward and grabs your mane, pulling himself forward until his entire length is inside of you.
 
It’s painful, but you don’t mind. It’s like a warm, pleasant ache. It feels impossibly tight - his strong grip on your mane keeps you close. The pain mixes with your painful desperation and you find yourself wanting more. You want to be pushed, to be used and broken, even though you’re gritting your teeth and crying. Even though you’d be resisting him off if you weren’t tied down.
 
He grunts and works against you, his manhood perfectly hard now. You can feel it inside of you, as your body spasms against him. He leans forward, his whole body above yours, and buries his face in your mane. He begins to pull out and you gasp, realizing you had been holding your breath the entire time. Your next breath turns into a pained squeak as he forces himself forward again.
 
His thrusts accelerate, each one shaking you to your core, and you can barely think to do anything more than breathe and cling to the sawhorse. The everything is overwhelming - the pain, the closeness, the feelings of being a toy and a desperate horny animal build up into a whirling climax, and you can feel yourself slipping away into brutal ecstasy. Suddenly, he gives your main one final, powerful pull. You arch your back and buck against him as he forces himself all the way into you. You feel him contract, and a warmth inside you lets you know his seed is inside of you.
 
He stays that way for a moment, breathing heavily.
 
You’re not done though. You need more. You whine and shift your haunches underneath him.
 
“Don’t worry, we’re not done. Stay right there, I have something for you.”
 
He leaves for a moment. You’re left to catch your breath for a moment.
 
When he returns, you don’t see what he’s carrying. He says, “I’m not sure how much it takes to tire out a pony in heat, but I’m going to find out.” and then he’s behind you. You feel something cool and soft nudge up between your cheeks, and you try to relax as he sticks it inside of you. It slides in a bit, and then stops, leaving your body to consider this for a moment. He doesn’t wait, and you feel something poking at your marehood.
 
Something long, hard… and plastic. You don’t care, you eagerly accept it... And then, with a soft chuckle and a little click… they come alive. Both of them.
 
They’re buzzing, and whirring, and shaking. It feels like you’re buzzing and whirring and shaking, all the way up your spine, into your wings, all across your fur and feathers. You jump, but almost instantly you shift back down, trying to reach the new toy deeper inside of yourself. It’s like a massage in all of your most sensitive places, and it’s making your nerves go wild. You barely notice when your owner steps out with a quick instruction to “Have fun.”
 
You’ve already gotten so close to climax twice today, it doesn’t take very much to push you over the edge. The vibrations erupt into that wonderful feeling you’ve been craving so much, and you buck against the sawhorse, prolonging your pleasure as it rips across your skin. You can hear yourself screaming, but you don’t care - it just feels so good.
 
But even while the fireworks settle, the new toys are continuing. They don’t stop, and you can’t get off of them, not while you’re tied like this. Your tail thrashes around as they work you up towards another climax. You’re enjoying this, your owner might have finally found something that can keep up with you. You dig your hips down against the sawhorse and let yourself get lost in the warm sensations, as they build up and carry you away.
 
It’s so much you can’t see, you can’t hear your own cries, you can’t even think but for the sensations rushing through you. You’re completely helpless, driven into yet another ragged orgasm.
 
And they do, again, and again. And each time, it’s more of a chaotic rush of noise than music. It hurts. There’s still waves of pleasure through you, but you feel infinitely sensitive and they just feel wrong. For the first time this week, you don’t want anything inside of you. But the vibrator and plug are relentless.
 
You try to pull away, but the vibrator is held in place by the sawhorse, and each time you lift yourself you only manage to succeed in thrusting it in and out of you. You don’t care, the raw numbing pleasure is too much and you need it out of you. You pull against the ropes holding your legs until it’s mostly out of you, but then your tired muscles give way and all you’ve succeed in doing is riding the vibrator more. You try to hold off the coming orgasm, to gain enough control of yourself to call out or even think a coherent thought, but you can’t. For the past week you’ve been completely ruled by your passions, and now you’re a being of pure feelings.
 
You’ve completely lost any grip on  time. You’ve completely lost count of how many tortured orgasms the toys have wrung out of you. Your entire body is ringing with soreness. You’re done struggling. You slump down, your plug and your vibrator buzzing away numbly. You barely feel them anymore - you’re one big, dull ache.
 
And you’re finally satisfied for the first time in a while.
 
It doesn’t take too long before your owner notices your lack of noise, and he lets himself in. You hear him say something, but you can’t make yourself understand it. You simply lie motionless as he turns off the plug and the vibrator, undoes the ropes, and picks you up lightly. He teases you with his fingers, and you flinch away. He seems satisfied with that result.
 
He carries you outside and sets you down in the grass. You slump down, completely exhausted.
 
It’s still morning. The air is crisp and cool. It feels light on your feathers, and you spread your legs to try to let your throbbing marehood cool a little. You’re completely exposing yourself but you simply don’t care.
 
Suddenly your entire world turns into searing ice.
 
It’s water. Its so unbelievably cold against your flushed body it stings. You do a half backflip half roll into a standing position, only to take the next spray to the face. It’s blissfully cool, and your fur is already completely soaked through with sweat.
 
It takes you several more sprays to realize it’s your owner, armed with a garden hose. He aims another blast of water at you, and you lean forward and let it wash over your wings. You’re so sensitive you can feel each drop as it runs across you. All of your built up heat and soreness washes away, and you return to this world. After everything you’ve gone through, your head feels impossibly clear.
 
“Are you cool yet?”
 
You nod, rolling around to let him spray down your underside. You’re surprised you’re not steaming.
 
“Good.”
 
You spend some time splashing in the water, playing with your owner. You probably look like a dog right now, but there’s a slight breeze and it’s just so relaxing to be cold for once. Water gets everywhere as you tackle your owner in a wet, soppy hug.
 
Later, after you’re both thoroughly wet, he drips through the house to retrieve a few towels. You simply shake yourself off, luxuriating in the cool breeze, the sun feeling pleasant on you as you drift away into a pleasant nap.
 
You spend it dreaming about stallions.