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01/18/12(Wed)09:49 No.33375417 File1326898189.png-(137 KB, 411x438, SparklerNo.png)
Fuck it, you guys aren't my dad you can't tell me what to do
Entering the coup, Scootaloo was struck with the morbid terror reflecting in the eyes of each hen in there, bloated and dirtied as they were from malnutrition, their faces laced with gashes and black marks. As the shelter of the coup swallowed her whole, the rooster stepped inside behind her, each step like a thundering earthquakes for the hens lined on their neat little rows.
Scootaloo was horrified when she found herself laying down, mouth open and drooling slightly, yet she still hammered at the glass within her own mind. The rooster pranced around her, scrutinizing its new hen. Occasionally, it pecked at her trembling body, the sharp beak stealing a feather, poking flesh or just simply biting her, but she wasn't even capable of flinching.
Satisfied with his new breeder, the rooster stepped fully in front of Scootaloo's vision, staring into her eyes, her soul laid bare before him. In her mind, Scootaloo was screaming. Screaming in horror, desperation and frustration. She wanted to cry, run, yell for help, anything. But her body was no longer hers.
Striding over her, the rooster took its place behind the small pegasus, and with a final humiliation, Scootaloo felt her own tail move out of his way. |