Zephyr Part 7

 

The songs and laughter are almost overpowering. You're tempted to join this merry band, when the circle breaks and the innumerable herd all take off in one direction. With no time wasted you find yourself running after them, but they get further and further away as you try in vain to catch up.

 

Soon you're alone, lost in seemingly infinite darkness. You call out in the hopes of finding someone, when a terrible fear begins to creep up your spine.

 

Something is coming.

 

You find yourself running in the direction the other p0nies went, but without seeing or hearing anything you know you're being chased. Suddenly the world falls out from under you as a hand clenches down hard on one of your rear legs. You struggle in blind panic, but the unseen hand lifts you effortlessly, and soon you have no traction as you dangle in complete darkness. A look up reveals a hand extending from, and seemingly made from the darkness that surrounds you.

 

Before you have time to react you see more movement in the darkness that surrounds you. Dozens of hands emerge, taking hold of your legs and wings with large fingers, touching you all over. He's everywhere. His many grips begin to twist and pull, and you begin to scream.

 

"Zephyr!"

 

You're being rocked back and forth, and someone is crying. Autumn pulls you into a tight foreleg hug once it's clear you're awake. In this moment, as your heart rate begins to settle down, you numbly put forth "Was I dreaming?". Somewhere behind you Master claims you were screaming, and Autumn settles for repeatedly telling you " it's okay."

 

Autumn continues to hold you, and you allow yourself to go limp in her embrace. This is all fucked up. You never wanted any of this. This afternoon you were helpless in the face of a madman, and now it's fucked you up in the head. All because of this stupid pony you've become. If you weren't like this he wouldn't want to hurt you. If you weren't beautiful, if your wings weren't amazing.

 

Autumn's hug gets tighter, and you feel teardrops land on your shoulder as you realize the depth of her concern for you. Autumn really, truly is your friend, even if it's only because you're one of Master's fellow playthings. Your hooves shakily rise to return her embrace. The rest of you feels just as violated and inherently wrong as the day you woke up downstairs, but Autumn's warmth is some small solace. Master's voice breaks the silence, causing you to jump a bit. You had nearly forgotten he was there.

 

"You can tell me about it when you're ready. In the meantime, I'm going to run a bath for you. Even getting that little bit of blood out of your fur is going to be a challenge. Does that sound like it would help?"

 

An affirmative nod is all you can muster, and Master moves to the stairs quickly. You recognize what he's doing: He's not sure what to do, but he's going to try his best at doing something. You turn your head towards the chair he'd been sitting in before your rude awakening, and notice a small glass and a bottle of what looks to be whiskey. He'd been sitting in a dark room with a drink while you slept. He kept his promise. And even if it was misguided, you understood the bottle had it's own significance. What happened to you really, really did bother him.

 

Autumn ends your embrace, and wordlessly stares at you for a few seconds. Sadness is etched onto her face, and it only seems to compound your own. All you can manage to say is "Thank you."

 

"You don't need to thank me. We're friends, aren't we?"

 

"Well.. yeah. We are friends."

 

"Well what kind of friend would I be if I weren't worried about you now?"

 

But she's not the only one worried. So is Master. He did this to you, though. All the responsibility for what's become of your life these past weeks rests squarely on him. If his mindfuck had worked, you might have already been sold...

 

He calls from upstairs, and you slowly work your way up the stairs. Rounding the corner into the bathroom, you find him waiting for you, kneeling next to a steaming bathtub. Neither of you say anything as you approach, but the silence is palpable.

 

Neither of you commits to breaking it, though, and he gently strokes your mane a few times before gently picking you up and slowly depositing you in the water.

 

The water is almost too warm, but as soon as you're submerged to the neck it begins to work its magic. You can feel your muscles slowly relaxing and various aching joints begin to protest, but it feels very nice. Master has sat down on the floor next to the tub, apparently content to let you relax for a few minutes. You worry about submerging your wings, but if Master hasn't said anything about it then you're probably okay, right?

 

With deep inhale you let yourself slide below the water, enjoying the muffled sounds of the world above. Your ear stings a bit where you were hurt earlier, but you endure for a moment longer before gradually exhaling and bringing your head back above water.

 

This time Master is paying attention, and the two of you lock eyes before he elects to speak.

 

"Alright, let me have a look at that ear."

 

You lean your head towards him, and he takes hold and begins to examine the left side of your head. You feel a harsh sting and recoil, but he's seen what he needs to and lets go.

 

"He must've swung pretty hard. You're probably going to have this little notch on the base of the ear for the rest of your life."

 

Even if it was something minor, being permanently disfigured by someone is an icy feeling in your gut. You're exhausted and miserable, and the bad news keeps coming. You let yourself sigh out an exasperated response.

 

"Great, now I'm defective and damaged goods."

 

"Hey now, I think it'll give you character."

 

"I'm already a character!"

 

He fails to suppress a snort of laughter, and you honestly let a small giggle go. You're laughing about your near-miss with rape. Yeah, the both of you have clearly gone off the deep end this time. Master takes the time to scrub the small blood stain out of your fur, and then begins to shampoo your mane.

 

Master shampooing your fur and mane is just heavenly. Strong fingers slowly massaged the stuff onto your scalp and all over your body. There are still moments when his hand rubs the wrong way or he digs too deep and the primal fear sitting deep in the back of your mind worms it's way up front, but you're able to stay in control of yourself. If it were anyone else, that probably wouldn't be possible.

 

But why do you trust him like this? All of your problems are his doing. Even if you get the sense that his conscience is starting to get the better of him, he said it best when he wondered if he might have unknowingly sold another pony to someone like your would-be owner! Even if he somehow means well, that's too horrific to be forgivable. The idea of some other poor lost soul in the hands of some pain freak is something you have to shut out of your mind. You can't deal with that right now. You can't. Can you even talk about this with him? The worst case scenario is some time downstairs or perhaps a quick sale to someone who hopefully isn't a monster. Before you can begin, though, he speaks, seemingly having read your mind.

 

"I know there's a lot you want to talk about right now with me. Can I ask you to wait a couple of days? I promise we'll have this conversation, I just need some time to think about it."

 

You grudgingly agree, and soon he's using a warm towel to dry you off, a process which proves that your new body is a little more sensitive than you might have wanted it to be, based on the uncontrollable laughter the tickling of the towel induces. Master then sits behind you, slowly brushing your mane. You'd never had long hair prior to being ponified, and suddenly it all makes sense. You'd also love to get pampered like this all the time, but something tells you Master is doing this for you as a special occasion. Or at least as group therapy.

 

It takes some time for you to dry all the way off, and by the time you do you honestly feel a bit better. Master carries you into the bedroom, where he tucks you in alongside Autumn and then rolls onto the other side of the bed, leaving the two of you to cuddle alone. Something's definitely eating at him, and you hope for your sake he'll reconsider what he's been doing with his life. The question plaguing you is not whether he'll be sorry enough to turn you back, but rather if your constantly battling feelings will resolve themselves if he turns his life around.

 

Soon Autumn's sleepily cuddled her way over to you the way one might with a pillow or stuffed animal, but that's just fine by you. Maybe with her here, you'll be able to skip the nightmares, and get some real sleep.