King and I - 3

 

You’re tired. You managed to get only a few hours of shut eye, your nerves preventing you from sleeping for any substantial period of time. You slap your lips together, scowling at the taste of morning breath, which was only worsened by your new equine body.

 

Do ponies use toothbrushes? Only one way to find out.

 

You crawl out of the warm bed and into the frigid air and head over to a smaller wooden door. You push it open to find a paltry on suite bathroom. Most of the room is taken up by a large bath tub on the far wall that has easily enough space for at least five ponies.

 

The tiling on the walls is incredible, with intricate patterns that ebb and flows like the ocean. A vivid palette of red and white reaches across the length of the room. You can only imagine how long it must have taken to design such a piece of art.

 

There’s a peculiar looking sink that is much lower than any of the ones you saw at home. Evidently designed with the smaller stature of a pony in mind. Above it hangs a large decorative mirror, lined with elegant swirling gold patterns and flowers, red roses in full bloom; you wonder how they can be alive while hanging from the mirror like that. Magic?

 

You haven’t had much time to take a good look at yourself since you came here.

 

You walk over to the sink and look at the sunken eyes that stare back. What was originally a bright red a day ago now looks dull and dirty. They must be reflecting how you feel right now, dull, tired and worried.

 

Your horn, the one you can’t use, sits upon your skull. If you could learn how to use magic maybe you have a chance of kicking Sombra’s flank? You sigh, no, that’s a bad idea. This is the pony that has an entire empire under his iron hoof, there’s no way you can beat him directly.

 

You can’t help but wonder why Sombra’s horn looks so different. Does dark magic affect the appearance of a pony too? Maybe he had a horn like yours once, graceful curves and shallow grooves.

 

Your once pristine white coat has become matted with sweat, sticking up in places and clumping together in others. Ugh. Even your cutie mark looks slightly off colour, which is strange. It looks like a tattoo, but has the texture of short fur.

 

What does the mark even represent anyway? A thorned rose is pretty ambiguous; it could mean nothing at all. You certainly didn’t earn it and all it does is remind you of the painful transformation Sombra forced upon you.

 

You turn to the huge bathtub. It sinks into the ground leaving it at foot level. A set of small steps lead down into it. The shining white porcelain is in pristine condition and makes you feel even dirtier. Maybe it’s time for you to take a bath.

 

You reach over to the brass taps, twisting them both into a position that you assume will provide you with nice, warm water. It quickly gushes out and begins to slowly fill the tub. You set yourself down near to the taps so you can turn them off later.

 

Steam slowly rises from the hot water, filling the room at a surprising rate. Soon the entire room looked like a sauna. You turn the taps off and sigh as your tense muscles unwind. You lay back and close your eyes, almost catching up on the sleep you lost last night.

 

You reach over and grab one of the assorted bottles that line the rim of the tub. “Rose Musk” is spelt out in fanciful cursive writing. You squirt some onto your hoof and struggle to keep it there, the lack of fingers making it near impossible to actually lift the stuff onto your mane.

 

Scrubbing it in is another question entirely, as you wince at the feeling of a solid hoof meeting your sensitive flesh. Slowly but surely you carefully massage the cream into your scalp, making sure to reach every area, you even take the time to rub some onto your coat.

 

You feel much better afterwards, it’s amazing how much a simple cleaning can do on a bad day. With a small spring in your step you pull the plug and get out, a pile of towels are conveniently placed nearby. You clutch one in between your clumsy hooves and give yourself a rub down; your new body doesn’t make this an easy task much to your frustration.

 

You huff and stomp a hoof in indignation. This sucks! How on Earth are you supposed to do this? Looks like you’ll be drip drying today. You carelessly toss the towel onto the floor and storm off to the sink.

 

A small cup holds what appears to a rather large toothbrush. It’s pretty big, even having a small brown strap to hold it with. The bristles look like they belong on a comb. You slip your hoof into it and pull it upwards.

 

Next step, toothpaste. It appears that ponies don’t use traditional tubes, thankfully, and instead utilize wash bottles. This makes it incredibly easy to slap a hoof down and get a good glob of the stuff.

 

Despite the brush nearly slipping away a couple of times, you manage to successfully clean your teeth. You place the brush back and look at yourself in the mirror again. You look much better, for the first time since you arrived you smile.

 

Now that you look again, you assume that you must be very attractive by pony standards in comparison to the guide from earlier. Your features are soft but well formed, your muzzle being long and slender giving your face an exotic flair.

 

Sombra must have made you with his ideal mare in mind, the hunger in his eyes from your first meeting suddenly becoming all the more terrifying. Either way, he doesn’t seem like the type to do anything sinister without notice or reason.

 

Maybe you can last and find a way back home. Nothing malicious seems to be in the works, not yet at least. If you can find the spell that he used, and a powerful unicorn, you’ll be home free.

 

You trot back out into the room and sit on one of the many couches that inhabit the lower area. There isn’t much to do in here apart from plot to escape. Guards, no windows and no magic seem to be pretty big detriments. So the escape attempt is on hold for now.

 

Suddenly, there is a knock on the door. You remain still for a moment only for the pony outside to knock again. “Room service!” They call.

 

Room service? This isn’t a hotel. You pull open the door to see a well-dressed, light blue stallion behind a silver cart, which is covered in a white sheet. He ushers himself inside, kicking the door closed with a rear leg.

 

You can’t help but feel like you know him from somewhere, but he’s the first pony you’ve seen apart from Sombra and his servant. His little waistcoat and bow-tie barely cover a rather impressive physique, which is rather out of place for a simple worker. The coat-tails of the jacket only just manage to cover his cutie mark.

 

He whips away the sheet, revealing a large assortment of different foods such as a large salad, different pieces of desert and even a small serving of what appears to be steak. A simple glass of water balances precariously next to them.

 

The silver haired stallion stands there for a moment, before turning to you. He stops for a moment, his eyes widening comically. He shakes it off as you poke and prod at the food, suspicious of its content.

 

“I have to be quick.” He says in a surprisingly juvenile voice. He slicks back his hair and narrows his platinum blue eyes. “You aren’t under his control yet, right?” He whispers. You look at him in shock, somebody else who isn’t a lobotomy victim?

 

You nod feverously. “Yes! H-he kidnapped me and brought me here yesterday.” You quickly divulge.

 

He smirks cockily. “Fantastic! You have no idea how long it took me to infiltrate just the catering staff.” He holds a hoof to his chest. “I’m in a bind right now. But with my position as one of the catering staff I can easily get in here, I’m one of the only ones aloud.”

 

“Do you have a plan to get us out of here?” You ask with excitement.

 

“Yep! I’ve nearly got everything together too. But I’m going to need your help to gather some of the materials.”

 

“O-okay. What do you need?” You ask nervously.

 

“Under the salad, gotta’ go.” With that he quickly turns tail and leaves the room. The door slams shut as his hooves fade into the background. Under the salad? You lift the plate away to reveal a small piece of ruffled paper, with different items listed in shaky handwriting, he was in quite a rush to write this list. The hold it close and attempt to decipher what it says.

 

Some of the writing is smudged and hard to make out, but after a few minutes you believe to have figured out the whole list. Something called a “dark crystal reactor” is circled and underlined repeatedly, signifying its importance. Below it are fairly specific components, “1x storage crystal, 2x mana conductive wires of 15 meter length, a “Mana Spell Catalyst” and finally a phoenix feather. You have no idea where you’re going to get any of this stuff.

 

It sounds like he’s trying to build a freaking magic nuclear reactor of some kind.

 

Can you trust him? What if he’s another of Sombra’s little mind games? It’s strange how this friendly face managed to get himself on room service duty for assumedly the only non-brainwashed pony in the castle, with a specific list of items he needs to achieve an ambiguous goal.

 

It’s him or Sombra. Nuclear reactor it is.

 

First problem, where the hell are you going to get all of this stuff? You don’t know what a “storage crystal” is or what it looks like, never mind all the other stuff. A problem for another day, maybe you’ll get lucky and happen upon this stuff during your stay, if you ever get to leave your room.

 

You take the note and slip it under your pillow for later in case you forget what you need. First order of business however is the cart of delicious food waiting for you. You eagerly scoop up the salad and force it down your gullet, the fruit and greens having a distinct pop that you aren’t quite familiar with.

 

You move over to the meat. You aren’t sure if you can chew and swallow it properly, but it doesn’t stop you from trying. The blunt pony teeth make mashing up the lean meat difficult, and you can’t get the smell of death out of your nose the entire time. Despite this it’s quickly devoured.

 

You continue on, grabbing the pudding and custard desert. You don’t notice just how much food you’ve eaten until you’re licking the plate clean of the sweet yellow substance. You belch loudly and cover your mouth in embarrassment; luckily nobody is around to hear it.

 

The sheer volume of food you just ate would normally give you a nasty stomach pain of some kind, however despite your anticipation of agony it never comes. You aren’t sure whether to be disappointed or pleased. You push the cart out of the way of the door, hoping somebody else will come up to get it later.

 

Second order of business, getting out of your room. You’ve been cooped up in here for far too long.

 

You approach the door and slowly push it open. You peek out of the small gap and spot one of the guards standing at the door. He’s wearing black, crystalline armor. You’re unsure of how practical crystal armor is, but they wouldn’t be using it otherwise.

 

Evidently they didn’t hear your conversation with the mystery stallion as they continue to stare stone faced at the opposite wall. The occasional dull looking servant mopes past the room, ferrying carts around of cleaning the floors as they go.

 

You bite the bullet and push it open. However much to your surprise the guards don’t take notice, they shuffle out of the swinging doors but continue to stare in one direction. You trot forwards and close it again; even then the guards don’t break from their dead expressions.

 

You briskly turn to the left and head down the corridor. You have no idea where you’re going but anywhere is better than your room. Several of the servants stop and stare as you pass, but simply return to their duties as you leave their sight.

 

The castle is very monotonous, with identical corridors lined with identical doors and identical pairs of guards watching them. Several times you think you’ve gone in a complete circle. You wonder how all the staff manage to navigate this place, must be something that comes with experience.

 

You can’t help but get the feeling you’re being lead somewhere. So far you haven’t seen a single window to the outside world, the only illumination being from the torches hanging on the walls.

 

It turns out that you were correct, coming upon the dual doors of the throne room. They are open. You poke your head around them to see a long line of ponies, queuing towards the throne. Sombra sits there, speaking to a group of scruffy looking farmers.

 

“I’ll consider it.” He says, waving them off with a hoof. You step back as the group passes you.

 

“I can’t believe it! Does he want us to starve?” A crimson pony boiled. “Well his kingdom won’t be any good if all his subjects are dead!”

 

“Calm down dear.” A purple mare said, stroking his back. He continues to rant and rave as him and his family departs under a guard escort.

 

You look back to see a new pony under scrutiny. Who lets out a very un-stallion like screech before turning tail and running away from him. A pair of guards block his path, who grab him by the legs and drag him from the room kicking and screaming.

 

You hesitantly step into the room. The ponies don’t pay attention to their new collared visitor, instead keeping their eyes on the king. King Sombra’s eyes immediately snap to you. He smiles his sinister grin before beckoning you to come forwards with a hoof.

 

You hastily walk to the throne but stop at the steps.

 

Sombra fires up his horn, his eyes releasing the green smoke that he had been missing for so long. The crystals that constructed his dark throne shift, expanding to the left. A jagged set erupts from the new base, which smooth’s out and warps in order to form another throne. A little red pillow poofs into existence from above, and flops down onto the seat.

 

It was much less impressive than his but it was still intimidating in its own right. The black crystals seemingly capture the light from around them and emit it as an ominous purple glow. It gave Sombra a rather demonic bent, another little trick in his arsenal.

 

“Sit.” He ordered. With no room for retaliation you waddle up the steps and slide into the large seat. You match Sombra’s pose, with your front hooves holding you up and you lower body lying down, much like a dog.

 

He leans over to you. “Finally decided to get some fresh air?” He jives. “Good, you get to see how I run things.” You flinch away as he chuckles into your ear. You don’t know why he wants you to sit next to him. His little fantasy about you being his Queen isn’t working the way he’d hoped.

 

He backs up and waves the next pony up. A scrawny looking stallion grovels at the bottom of the black steps, throwing himself into a deep bow.

 

“Your majesty!” He declares, rising to his hooves. “I bring good word from the specters.”

 

“Very well. You may speak.”

 

“They have found the traitors base, to the north, in the caverns of the old mine. However they must act quickly, lest they move again.”

 

Sombra nodded and motioned to two guards. “Take him to the barracks, I want this cell stamped out for good, you know what to do.” The guards move in on either side of the stallion and walk him away. A resistance movement? Your new friend must be working with them. You hope they haven’t caught him already. He’s your only ticket out of here.

 

You don’t pay much attention to the next few discussions, which consist of boring agricultural arguments and something about a dark crystal mine. As you huff and sit there like a decorative statue, a strange feeling begins to well in your lower body. You look down, left and right but fail to notice the subtle glow of Sombra’s horn or the grip it has around your collar.

 

Your body heats up rapidly, breaking into a sweat which causes your body to itch all over. You hold a straight face and fidget slightly, unwilling to flinch or embarrass yourself. A blush blooms along your face as your lower lips begin to moisten.

 

A small dribble running down your fur alerts you. Your black marehood looks puffed up. You flinch as you see a clit poke out before retreating back in. Sombra continues to discuss farming with the subject like nothing is going on, has he even noticed?

 

You cross your hooves in order to cover yourself. Luckily it appears that none of the other ponies have noticed your situation. A perverse thrill infests your mind; you were really horny in front of all these ponies and they didn’t know a thing. Your hoof slowly begins to drift towards the weeping hole.

 

You could just rub one out, right in front of all of them and they couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

 

Yes!

 

“No!” You screech, breaking from the haze. You jump up and run away without looking back. That was him! His magic! He was fucking controlling you! You hear the clanking of armor coming after you but they stop as you cross the threshold of the door.

 

What the hell you were thinking back there? You chide yourself as you bolt past a bewildered servant. You wish you could be along, away from all of these beady eyes. You wish you could just… disappear!

 

With a flash, you find yourself running face first into the bed. You bounce backwards and land on your flanks. You groan as they throb in pain, which only becomes more intense as your needy marehood winks furiously. You bite your lip hard and try to think of something, anything that can calm you down. You come up blank.

 

The bathroom door is still open, you remind yourself. You hesitate for a moment, before stepping in and locking the door with a click.