GREEN
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4805 25.84 KB 478
4805 25.84 KB 478
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Compilation of two seemingly-related greens by the same presumed author.
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Post1: 07/26/2021
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Here is a warning for anyone with good taste. Don’t read any of this. It is degenerate garbage. Pet shit, Tranny bait, Sub point of view, wanting to be the pony. All that faggot shit. I am writing this as an act of psychic exorcism. To expel all this disgusting poison from my head.
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>The bus ride home smells like cigarettes and sweat
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>Or maybe you smell like cigarettes and sweat and you are stinking up this poor bus
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>You rest your head against the rattling window and let your eyes have some rest
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>At least until dawn
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>The sun is just now starting to lug its fat ass over the horizon
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>Night shifts fucking suck so much dick
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>One day you’ll get out of that warehouse for good and disappear into a log cabin in the woods
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>The ride home is an hour long
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>You drift in and out of consciousness the whole time, fighting to stay alert so as to not miss your stop
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>You stumble out of the bus, mumbling apologies to the bright young business graduates and urban professionals you brush past on their way to work
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>Maybe if you hadn’t failed out of university you would be one of them
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>Instead you are a burnout working the graveyard shift for minimum wage
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>Could be worse
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>You have an apartment
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>You are able to afford food
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>You have a smartphone
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>And a mattress to sleep on
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>You are surviving in the broad sense of the term
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>Although the nocturnal schedule has fucked up your head somewhat
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>Been retreating into weird fantasies more and more
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>But who isn’t nowadays
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>Finally make your way home
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>There is a package sitting on your doorstep
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>You don’t remember if you ordered anything from amazon or whatever
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>Fumble with the keys to the door
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>Get inside and don't even bother locking it
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>You have nothing of value to rob
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>Fall onto your mattress
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>It just lays on the floor in the corner of your room
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>Bed frames are for the rich
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>Your window has garbage bags tapped over it to keep the light out so you can actually sleep during the day
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>You have 8 hours until you need to get back up and crawl on the bus back to work
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>You should really just sleep the moment your head hits the mattress, but you have appetites to serve
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>Pull out your phone and check out previously stated weird fantasies
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>Scroll through the pastebins for something good
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>Are you gunna read some anonfilly green tonight?
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>Or maybe that one good Pon-e story
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>...
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>Nah, you are hungering for the classics
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>>Zephyr
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>>It's been a long, stupid day at work.
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>>Hate the boss, hate the job. Coworkers okay.
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>Aw yeah, this one always hits the spot
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>Even if it is pretty degenerate
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>You read all the way up to when autumn trots out into view while zephyr is in her cage
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>Good shit
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>But the exhaustion of the day really starts hitting you something fierce
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>Your eyes feel just so fucking heavy
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>And you still need to be up in 7 hours for your next shift
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>Time for bed for real
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>Oh wait, you should prolly open that package you got
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>Maybe if you are lucky it's a mail bomb that got sent to the wrong house
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>You use your apartment key to cut through the packaging tape
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>You reach in with your hand and…
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>...
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>Is this a bad joke?
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>You pull out the plush
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>Its docile, inanimate stare perturbs you somewhat
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>Perturbs you something fierce
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>It is an OC of yours
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>Just a cute pegasus mare with a slightly melancholic vibe
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>Whoever made her didn’t half-ass it though
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>Her cloudy grey coat, her big yellow eyes
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>They got her mane right too, the long wavy locks of navy blue, with darker streaks trailing down
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>Christ it even has the cutie mark you doodled in MS Paint
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>A wave crashing over her flank
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>It looks a bit like a tribal tattoo to be honest but at least it doesn’t resemble microsoft clipart
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>You stare at the little plush, taking in the craftsmanship
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>For a moment you find yourself waiting
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>Waiting for a buzzing feeling to start creeping up your arm
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>The feeling of nanomachines soaking into your body
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>But you don’t feel anything at all
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>Except a little bit of embarrassment for thinking that utterly cringe and delusional thought
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>In the back of your head you maybe feel a little disappointment too
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>You don't have the energy right now to worry about who might have sent this
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>Probably just one of the other horsefuckers on the thread
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>You roll over back on your mattress and go limp
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>With the plushie in your arms you let sleep come to you
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>You have a weird dream about crash bandicoot driving his gocart into a highway embankment
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>People keep slowing down to look at the twisted wreckage, and then crashing into the embankment themselves
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>You feel like you should do something to stop the cycle of destruction but you are too busy running from this gigantic slug that for some reason you know will turn you into cabbage if it catches you
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>Dreams don’t always mean something
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>Sometimes shit is just a weird dream about crash bandicoot and slugs
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>You wake up suddenly when you feel a heavy pressure in your arm
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>You reach over to the site of the pain, but something other than flesh meets your fingers
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>Something metallic and thin
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>A jolt of fear shoots through you as you realize it's a syringe
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>An unfamiliar voice calmly says “Stay still or you might get hurt”
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>Holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck
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>You scream in terror and kick at the darkness around you
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>”GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME, GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME”
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>Your eyes are able to pick out a dark figure backing away from you
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>You rip the syringe out of your arm and throw it at him
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>”WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU PUT IN ME”
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>He stays silent
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>”WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU PUT IN ME YOU FUCK”
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>You are hyperventilating and screaming as loud as you can
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>He just stands there
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>Eerily quiet
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>You reach over to your phone, taking your eyes off the figure for a moment as you dial 911
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>As you raise the phone to your ear you look back to where the figure was
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>You don’t see him anymore
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>Where the fuck did he go?
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>You stay in your room, pacing back and forth as the 911 operator listens to what happened
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>She says a patrol car will be sent over
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>She asks if you would like an ambulance
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>Fuck no you couldn’t afford it
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>You scream at the door to your room
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>”YOU BETTER GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE YOU PIECE OF SHIT THE COPS ARE ON THEIR WAY”
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>You don’t hear anything
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>You throw in another fuck you for good measure
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>You look around for the syringe but it’s nowhere to be found
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>He must have picked it up and taken it with him
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>You sit with your back holding the door to your room closed
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>As you do, the pony plush laying on your bed catches your eye
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>A cold pang of anxiety worms through your guts
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>No way the one day you get a mystery package is the same day a psycho breaks in and stabs you with god knows what
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>Coincidences like that don’t even happen man
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>Shit is unreal
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>It must have been some deranged freak from the thread
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>You wait for twenty minutes until you hear banging on the front door
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>You gingerly make your way through your apartment, staying vigilant around every corner for a surprise attack or ambush from the home invader
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>But it seems like he is long gone by now
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>You open the door to two gruff looking officers
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>They search your apartment quickly, checking the closet and even under the fucking carpet
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>Do they think you were attacked by Ant-man?
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>You direct them to the plushy and the box she came in
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>They look as freaked out as you were when you tell them how you woke up
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>They say they will be back here with a detective in a day or two
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>They take the plush and the box in a ziplock baggie labeled evidence
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>Before leaving one of the officers tells me I should get tested, in case the syringe had something dangerous inside
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>No shit sherlock
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>The anxiety in your stomach has only grown
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>You look at the clock on your phone and realize you only have two hours until you need to leave for your next shift
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>Not enough time to get back to sleep
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>The mundane dread of your wage slavery takes up a bit of the brain space currently allocated to withdrawn horror over your attacker
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>You boil some water in a small pot to make yourself some tea
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>Jasmine
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>You bought a box of like four hundred tea bags a year or two ago
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>Still haven’t gotten even halfway through it
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>The tea calms you a bit
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>You pull out your phone and open up the thread again
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>What the fuck
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>Someone is spamming images of your oc
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>They aren’t even tf images they are just sfw picture of her
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>Whatever calm you had just flew off the handle—Did an acrobatic fucking pieroette off the handle
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>Oh god you are freaking out again
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>Oh god
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>You double over and feel your stomach heave over on itself
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>Vomit bubbles up in the back of your throat before another heave propels it onto the floor in front of you
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>Oh fuck no
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>You stumble to the bathroom, draping yourself over the edge of the bathtub
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>More vomit
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>Your head swims in a sudden wave of pain
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>With no small amount of fear, you realize your shoulder has gone completely numb
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>You need that ambulance
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>Fuck you left your phone on the table
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>You try to stand up but another heave of nausea forces you to the ground
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>The numbness is really freaking you out
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>You think it might be spreading down your arm and even into your chest
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>You pray its just anxiety, or a hallucination from sleep deprivation
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>It seems finally your stomach has nothing left to throw up
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>You start to crawl back to the kitchen
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>You pull yourself up to the kitchen table and reach for your phone
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>Your fingers barely respond to your commands
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>In complete panic you somehow manage to unlock your phone
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>You try to open the actual phone app, but you suddenly feel light headed
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>The sensation travels down your back and into your legs as they give out from under you
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>Your body crumples and falls to the floor
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>You hear your skull bang against the fake tile
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>But you don’t feel anything
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>You feel nothing but the numbness creeping up your neck
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>And consciousness slipping away
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>You are in the dark
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>All around you, you can feel a presence
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>It’s embrace is warm and tempting
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>Something inside you pushes towards it
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>You feel a gravity, an inescapable force drawing you to the presence
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>Tendrils wrap lovingly around you
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>You feel yourself being pulled downward
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>Deeper
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>Deeper into the maw of the presence
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>A bliss intrudes upon your thoughts
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>It feels so sweet
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>It feels so nice
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>The warmth grows, The grip of the tendrils strengthens
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>The bliss floods into your head until you are filled with a manic joy
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>You feel your heart racing
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>Your eyes flutter open
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>The alarm to your phone is screeching
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>Something sticky has glued your face to the floor
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>Upon peeling your face from it, you realize it’s blood
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>You groggily pick up your phone from the table
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>It is like three and a half hours past when your shift started
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>There are three texts from your boss and a missed call
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>8:13 ”Where are you”
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>8:29 ”If you aren’t here in thirty minutes there will be consequences”
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>10:56 Missed call
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>11:05 “Don’t bother coming in, Read the email we will send you tomorrow morning”
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>Fuck
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>If you weren’t dying right now you would probably be worried
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>Not the first time you’ve been fired
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>You feel so weak
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>Half dazed you dial 911
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>As the call rings you feel a sharp pain in your back
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>You can tell it would hurt a lot more if you weren’t already so delirious
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>The weight of the strike, whatever it was, pushes you to the ground
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>There is no terror this time
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>You feel nothing except quiet helplessness
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>You aren’t surprised when a voice kills the silence
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>”Sorry about this, kid”
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>Anxiety flares up, but is smothered a moment later
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>You don’t have the strength to say anything back
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>Your voice dies in your throat as you feel the hands of your attacker press into your back
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>Is he gonna kill you?
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>Is he gonna rape you?
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>You feel so tired
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>You feel another needle in the back of your neck
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>It slips between your vertebrae
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>What feels like a bolt of lighting fills your head
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>Light
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>Pain?
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>Everything
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>Your head is going to explode
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>A Second needle is pressed into your lower back
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>You don’t feel the third
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>Or the fourth
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>Only an enveloping darkness
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>And fatigue
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>No dreams this time
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>When you wake up you feel something soft underneath you
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>And a roaring ache from every direction and every inch of your body
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>You can’t move an inch
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>None of this feels real
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>You probably died when you smashed your head against the floor
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>This must be hell
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>Suddenly you are very certain this is hell
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>The softness underneath you is a little discordant with that assertion but the omnipresent pain seems to make up the lost ground
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>As you rouse from consciousness, even through your apparent paralyzation you feel the familiar rumble of car travel
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>The sensations creeping their way past the pain do little to help you understand the world you now find yourself in
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>You are lying in a strange position, it feels almost like your neck should be snapped.
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>Really all of your proprioception is kinda off the rails
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>You aren’t even in a place to contemplate that shit right now
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>Underneath you there is softness, you can tell you are sorting sinking into what must be a really fluffy pillow
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>Suddenly light cuts through the darkness, and you catch a glimpse of your surroundings
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>Something like a curtain had swayed just far enough to open a sliver of light inside…
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>... inside a cage
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>You are inside a cage
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>Your mind starts to race
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>This is another nightmare
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>This is hell
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>This is some weird sleep deprivation hallucination
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>This isn’t real
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>This isn’t real
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>This isn’t real
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>Your breathing races, and you feel the corresponding sensations of your chest rising and falling
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>Oh god this feels real
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>Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god
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>You are paralyzed inside a cage in a car driving who knows where
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>Who knows how long you have been inside
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>You try to scream, but you can’t even open your lips
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>You just lay where you are, in total darkness, inside a cage, in a car.
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>More and more of reality streams into your head
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>The ambient sound of highway driving
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>The quiet pitter patter of a light rain on the roof of the car
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>The breathing of someone else
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>Someone who must be only feet away from you
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>The person who in all likelihood assaulted you, stabbed you with some god forsaken drug
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>Kidnapped you
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>Anger flashes through you
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>You feel the sick weight of your arms slumped in front of you
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>You reach out with them
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>You summon every ounce of your will to raise one
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>Your body fights you with every inch of its exhaustion
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>But for a moment you overpower it
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>You feel your arm lift away from the pillow beneath it
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>It feels like you are trying to lift a car
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>A sound like a gurgle and a cough erupts from your throat
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>Your hand grazes the side of the cage
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>Cool metal brushes against where your fingers should be
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>But you don’t feel your fingers
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>An alien sensation come from where your fingers should be
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>Something hard where your fingers should be
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>Your strength and will give out and your arm limply falls to the ground
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>Something hard which is at the end of your arm lands with a dull thud on the metal floor of the cage
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>The voice from before, muffled by whatever is covering the cage speaks up
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>His unnervingly calm words do nothing but send another wave of fear through your almost imobile body
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>”Easy back there, If I were you I would try to get some more rest. We still have a long way to drive and the pain shouldn’t fade entirely for another three hours or so”
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>An inhuman whimper escapes your lips
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>Light again surges through the parting in the curtain around your cage. This time your eyes soak up every detail
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>The cloudy grey hoof where a hand should be.
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>The velvet red pet bed you are curled up on
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>The muzzle between your eyes
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>This has to be a nightmare
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>You are going to wake up at any moment
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>Its some nightmare that was conjured up by reading fucked up pony tf fiction on basically no sleep
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>You aren’t about to be Zephyr’d
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>This is all a nightmare
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>You think of your parents
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>You wish your mother was here
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>You call out for your her
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>Your voice crackles, like you have never used it before
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>The little sound you do make is nothing like how your voice is normally
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>Its so high
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>You keep calling out for your mother
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>You picture her face
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>You remember what she said to you right before you left last christmas, the last thing she had said to you
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>”Take care of yourself Flotsam, we love you so much”
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>Your stomach sinks
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>That’s not your name
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>That’s not your fucking name
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>W-what did she say
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>You feel your eyes scrunch up as you try to remember what she actually said
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>”Take care of yourself F L O T S A M, we love you so much”
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>Oh god
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>Oh god oh fuck
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>Please wake up
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>Please wake up
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>Please wake up
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>You feel yourself curling up as tears form in the corners of your eyes
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>You keep begging yourself to wake up
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>Your voice doesn’t sound like how it used to
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>You keep begging yourself to wake up
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>Until uncontrolled weeping takes the place of words
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>Snot and tears trail down your face
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>Please wake up
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Post2: 04/30/2022
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Dumb story for you degenerates to read
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>Slowly you begin to wake from a deep sleep. You realize you can feel two hands cupping your head, holding it gently aloft
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>The sensation of being touched feels unnaturally good, and a warm pleasure rushes through your head
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>At least until you open your eyes and see the face of the man who fucking kidnapped you
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>You jerk your head away and scuttle backwards, glaring at him
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>His eyes widen and a look of concern shoots across his face
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> “Careful dear, you don't wanna rip out the cord. Try to stay still”
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>Rip out the cord? What the fuck is he talk-
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>Your eyes dart to something just in your peripheral vision
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>Jutting out from the side of your head you can see something what looks like a USB cable trailing down and out of sight
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>Holy fuck holy fuck oh god
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>What is this
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>What has he done to you now
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>It was bad enough when he fucking stabbed you with that syringe of god knows what and you started to turn into a fucking little pony
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>Now you were hooked up to something like in the fucking matrix
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>You fight the urge to rip it out of your head. It could cause some major brain damage or head trauma if anything violent went on with it
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>After a couple deep breaths you turn back to your kidnapper
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>He had asked you to call him “Master” but that sure as shit wasn’t happening
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>”W-what the fuck are you doing to my head?”
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>He doesn’t answer your question immediately, instead he pulls a laptop with a cable plugged into it onto his lap
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>”You’ve had a difficult time acclimating to your new environment. I warned you if you didn’t behave I might have to take some drastic actions”
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>Drastic actions?
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>”What are you talking about?”
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>His voice remains calm and patronizing, like he is explaining something to a child
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>”Other ponies have struggled, and usually this little maneuver really helps them adjust”
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>He types something into the laptop before continuing
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>”I’m just going to cut out some of your memories, to make way for newer happier ones as a pet”
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>WHAT THE FUCK
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>You try to lunge forward and attack this fucking bastard, but before you are able to he slams his finger down on the enter key
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>A jolt shoots through your body and you fall limply onto the medical cot you awoke on
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>Nausea and a feeling of vertigo hit you
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>And a moment later a hand gently begins to scritch your head
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>If you had any strength you would recoil in terror
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>Instead you feel yourself tense up in anxiety and a newfound dread
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>”It’ll be okay Flotsam, I promise”
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>His disgusting words felt like acid to your ears
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>He keeps insisting on calling you that
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>You should have never made that dumb fucking OC
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>It had become routine for you to snap back with your original name, followed by a foul word or two
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>Like muscle memory you spit out the usual
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> “My name is Flotsam you fucking creep…”
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>Your voice falters as you hear the words you are saying
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>Shivers of confusion and fear rock you
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> “What… My name wasn’t Flotsam it was Flots… Flots..”
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>Desperately you try to recall what you were called before this creep transformed you
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>But it feels like trying to remember a dream you already had forgotten by the morning
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394.
>You can feel the gaping nothingness in your mind where there should have been decades of memories
-
395.
>You had impressions of emotions
-
396.
>Fear, Isolation, Failure
-
397.
>Self hatred
-
398.
>But there were none of the associated events to recall
-
399.
>Nothing
-
400.
>You feel yourself hyperventilating
-
401.
>”My… my name my… You”
-
402.
>The panic melts together with rage
-
403.
>You scream at your kidnapper
-
404.
>”FUCK YOU GIVE THEM BACK GIVE ME BACK MY FUCKING MEMORIES”
-
405.
>He purses his lips and tuts at you
-
406.
>”Ponies in this house ought not to scream so loudly”
-
407.
>You feel your hooves bristling with the desire to buck this asshole in the face
-
408.
>But you are a savvy dealer, you know even assholes can be reasoned with
-
409.
>You steel yourself and try to purge the rage from your voice
-
410.
>”Listen, you’ve… you’ve proven your point, Master.”
-
411.
>As best you can you make your voice pleading and cute
-
412.
> “Master is obviously a very intelligent man, and I would really appreciate a second chance. You’ve demonstrated your capability to do something like, w-what you just did. If you could just give me my memories back we can proceed without the need for any of this...”
-
413.
>You trail off as you see the abominable creature jump up onto your kidnapper’s lap
-
414.
>Your “pet-mate” as he likes to call her
-
415.
>A small yellow pegasi with a white pink and brown mane
-
416.
>Her eternally sunny disposition grated on you at the best of times
-
417.
>Many times you had tried to convince her to help you escape
-
418.
>And each time she had gone running to her master, like the wittless and stupidly loyal animal she had long ago degenerated into
-
419.
>She was as much your enemy as your kidnapper, even if she was another victim of his
-
420.
>As she snuggled into his lap in front of you, the kidnapper pulled out another cable and plugged in into an apparently hidden slot behind her ear
-
421.
>”W-what are you doing to her?”
-
422.
>Against your better judgement it seemed you still had some concern for the blissfully happy pegasus
-
423.
>Your kidnapper turned to you as he typed into his laptop again
-
424.
>”I’m going to link you two up. Neapolitan has helped other pets before and she agreed to it before we tranquilized you to sleep last night.”
-
425.
>You reacted faster this time
-
426.
>You drew a blunt forehoof up and with a twist of your head you felt the cord stuck in your head go taut
-
427.
>But you were still too late
-
428.
>A moment before you ripped it out you feel another jolt shoot through your body
-
429.
>You still rip the cord out but your hoof and the rest of your body fall limply to the cot once more
-
430.
>You weakly plead with the monster
-
431.
>”No more, no more please”
-
432.
>He puts a hand to your head
-
433.
>Pleasure and warmth and an unrestrained love flows into your mind from somewhere alien
-
434.
> “Don’t worry Flotsam, your sister can take care of you now”
-
435.
>Your eyes dart over to Neapolitan, still plugged into the laptop
-
436.
>She is staring at you and smiling
-
437.
>She looks like she wants to tackle to to the ground and hug you and snuggle you and keep you safe and nestle next to you and share all the love and goodness and happiness she has to share and the joys of being masters-
-
438.
>ARGH WHAT THE FUCK
-
439.
>WHERE ARE THOSE THOUGHTS COMING FROM
-
440.
>”From me!” She chirps
-
441.
>Your heart sinks as you hear her words
-
442.
>You turn back to mast-
-
443.
>ARGH
-
444.
>You wrestle with the intruding thoughts and turn back to the kidnapping monster in front of you
-
445.
>”You can still undo this, undo this please you can probably stop this shit right now from your computer. Please I’ll do anything I promise I’ll be good just stop this please”
-
446.
>He gently pulls the plug out of Nea’s head and scoops her up in his arms
-
447.
>You feel a warmth and a feeling of safety emanate from below you
-
448.
>He gives Nea a scratch on top of her head
-
449.
>She shifts a bit, obviously taking in the pleasure
-
450.
>A moment later you feel a buzzing, before scritches also roll over your scalp
-
451.
>More of your sister pet’s thoughts flood in through the opened link, and for a moment you simply savour the pleasure
-
452.
>You rip yourself away and let your seething hatred of the kidnapper boil
-
453.
>You can see your pet sister recoil a bit in fear
-
454.
>”Hey now, be nice” Your master firmly says
-
455.
>”Don’t you dare try to hurt Nea while this link is active, or things will only get harder for you”
-
456.
>A feeling of profound repentance and loyalty washes over you, even if you don’t realize they aren’t your own
-
457.
>”S-sorry”
-
458.
>When his tone lightens and he gently says “Good girl”, you feel a pang of joy and elation creep over you
-
459.
>Before a wave of horror crashes down
-
460.
>In the moment, it's hard to differentiate your own thoughts and those of your pet sister. Only upon reflection it becomes clear how much the alien presence is already intruding upon your mind
-
461.
>You feel the stirrings of a panic attack begin to build
-
462.
>Until something defuses it as easily as a passing thought
-
463.
>Nea is snuggling happily into your kidnapper’s embrace
-
464.
>Her comfort is so soothing
-
465.
>Caught up in examination of your thoughts you don’t notice him reaching over with his other hand until it scoops you up too and you are deposited next to Nea, both of you being held against his chest
-
466.
>Oh god why does it feel so safe and good and secure
-
467.
>So nice and comforting and good and
-
468.
>...
-
469.
>You find yourself buffeted with Nea’s feelings
-
470.
>After the memory fuckery and the mind link you feel just so exhausted
-
471.
>And being nestled in Master’s embrace is very nice
-
472.
>...
-
473.
>The existential horror over your situation doesn’t even have a chance to build before it is lost in the goodness radiating from the link
-
474.
>Nea nuzzles her head into your neck
-
475.
>The affection melts together with the over stimulation of both of your physical sensations
-
476.
>Master says good girl to you both, and carries you up out of the basement laboratory
-
477.
-
478.
---
by Guest
by Guest
by Guest
by Guest
by Guest