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Thoughts Controlled by Cock for Sunkit by Draconicon

Strike had been with the Crystal King for so long that he had forgotten much of his past. The time when he had been a human seemed as far off as a dream, and a dream would have been clearer than the few memories he had. What had it been like? What had he done as a human? What was life like without a master?

Horrible, surely. What would he have done without someone else to think for him? The blackened collar around his horn was all he needed to see to know that he couldn't think for himself. A dumb breeding boi like him should be happy to have a master that thought for him, not be wondering what other days had been like.

The pony shifted position on the floor, his cock slowly sliding out of its sheath as he wondered when the King would come and breed him again. The curiosity sparked more lust, and he smiled as he felt his cock slowly edging out of his sheath, sliding forward until it forced him to stand up. The length wasn't as large as that of Royalty - then again, few things were - but it was a good size to him.

Flexing it a few times, making it smack against his belly in bursts of pleasure, the pony walked around his cell. He looked out the window, his thoughts fading as he saw King Sombra on one of the nearby balconies. The black band around his horn seemed to burn, and his thoughts burned with it.

Sombra is king. Sombra is master. Sombra is king. Sombra is master.

It was all he could think about. All that he could think at all. Sombra was his lord, Sombra was his master. He would do anything he was told.

And he masturbated his cock to the thought of it, twitching it, flexing it against his stomach to the thought of his King coming in and breeding him again. His hole twitched and he began to drip at the thought. He glanced out at the balcony again -

"What are you doing, slave?"

Strike backed up from the window quickly, seeing the Crystal King floating there in his gaseous form. The King slipped through the bars before reforming, looking down at the pony with blazing eyes.

"Stop moving your shaft."

He immediately obeyed, looking down and away. Master should not be ignored. He had to -

"Mmmph!"

His body betrayed him, flexing and bobbing his cock again. A bit of pre slipped out, dripping onto the floor. He lowered himself in apology, but the King shook his head.

"You cannot control yourself, it seems. Not even through the magic I placed on your horn. It seems I will have to use more...physical methods."

Less than an hour later, Strike was on his back in the King's dungeons, one of the blacksmith ponies summoned and striking metal at a nearby forge. The King turned to him, snorting.

"I assumed I could control your body if I controlled your mind, just as I believed that your mind might be mightier than your body. But as the opposite seems to be true, I will just take your body, and let your mind follow along."

Strike had no idea what he meant, but he was more than a little worried about the growing construction that was being made just across the room. With his legs pulled out to the sides and his sheath and balls completely in view, he knew that the King could do whatever he wanted.

Worse, now that he was tied down, the black band was off. Which meant he could think. Which meant that his thoughts were racing a mile a minute to make up for lost time.

What am I doing here?! I should be getting away, not being tied down and getting something put on me.

He squirmed, blushing as he felt his cock continue to jostle and throb against his chest. It was so much bigger than anything he'd ever seen as a human, yet still smaller than what the King had. What his master -

He's not the master!

It shouldn't have been in his thoughts like that, but the big horse was still someone that his body considered master. Just looking at him sent a submissive thrill down the pony's back, and he groaned as his shaft throbbed harder and harder, oozing a powerful jet of pre against his belly every so often.

Soon, the blacksmith turned around, and Strike gasped at what he saw.

"No. No, you can't!"

"I will, to control you properly."

In the magic of the blacksmith floated a cage, a metal cage that was precisely the shape of Strike's soft cock and sheath. He shook his head, flailing back and forth in his bonds, but all he did was throw his cock back and forth, spraying pre everywhere. The King interrupted him, putting a hoof on his shaft.

"You will obey. And you will be caged until you obey willingly."

The King's hoof slid up and down the pony's cock, the pressure keeping it pinned to Strike's belly. The pony arched his back, whimpering and biting his lip to not think about what was happening to him, but it was so hard. He was so hard, and the slow stroking was driving him out of his mind.

It didn't help that he'd been teasing himself in the room, or that he'd been hard ever since they'd gotten down here. The very presence of his King - master - KING made him horny, and he needed to get relief. He knew that as soon as he went soft, he'd be caged, and he held back as much as he could, but he could already feel -

"AAAH!"

The feeling of Sombra's other hoof jammed up his ass and the slow stroking pushed him over the edge. Strike came all over his stomach, spurting his load so far up as his face before he slowed. He panted, smelling his own musk everywhere as King Sombra stepped away, shaking his hoof from side to side to dislodge some cum. The King turned to the blacksmith.

"Make sure the locks are extra tight. He will not be doing that again for months."

"Yes, sire."

Strike bit his lip as his cock shrank towards his sheath, trying to get it to grow hard again, but finding nothing that would do it. The cool metal went down his cock, attached to several interlocking bits that surrounded his balls in steel and circled the base of his cock with a powerful ring. As soon as it was locked down, the constriction around his sheath and cock made him start growing again, but he whimpered as his cock came in contact with the steel cage, unable to get past half of its full length, half its hardness. The blacksmith pony loomed over him, shaking his head.

"Get used to it, boy. You'll be in that until the King takes it off you."

Master...why?

The denial of the cage was a cruel, cruel thing. It wasn't just that it stung when he got hard, though it was the most obvious effect. He felt it squeeze at him at all times of day, and when it got hot, or cold, the steel cup around his balls burned or froze them at turns. He couldn't touch himself, not get himself off, though he could pee without issue.

The insidious thing about it was that it kept him from cumming, and as a result, his mind started to change. Without the regular relief of being emptied, even when the King fucked him, Strike slowly felt his outlook on life change as a result of his need.

It wasn't much, at first. He would use more of his toys than he used to, taking the things that the King had molded for him of the guards and ramming them up him. It didn't do much, but it scratched some of the perpetual itch, and he told himself that he was just doing what he needed to do in order to keep in practice.

Then he started offering himself to the chubbier, shorter cocked guards. He'd never done that before, and it wasn't as though he lacked other suitors. But he needed more. He needed something new, and the blush of humiliation on his face as the bigger, more loser ponies that couldn't get a proper tail used him made the cage all the tighter.

It took him weeks to understand what was happening, to realize that he was changing. The need to get the cage off had become something else. A need to submit. Strike groaned on the day he realized it, right in the middle of being fucked by the large-bellied stallion who'd been transferred from another part of the kingdom, but couldn't stop himself. It kept going, and he moaned louder than ever.

By the time two months had passed, he barely recognized himself. The pony that had happily offered himself to only the best of the guard and Sombra himself had become the easiest slut in the palace. The pony that had twitched his cock and cum as he pleased spent all his spare time training himself on bigger and bigger dildos, scratching the itch that never entirely went away. The pony that had been Sombra's breeding bitch had become everyone's cum dump hole, and begged for more.

He was losing his mind, and he barely cared.

Exactly sixty one days after the cage had been put on, the door opened to his chambers, and the master stepped in. Strike lifted himself from his toy, panting as he looked upon the royal stallion, and immediately turned around and offered himself. His cock, having been leaking pre perpetually for the last two weeks, drizzled onto the ground.

"Please master, please master, let me be you bitch again. Let me have your cock again! Please! Please! I need it!"

The slow hoofbeats marching to the door would have made him whimper if it were any other pony. But this was the master, and it left him hopeful. Please, he thought. Please let this be the day that he forgives me.

A hoof pressed against the steel cage around his balls, and Strike shuddered as the cool metal pressed against his sac, nearly making them pull away at the touch. Or they would have done, were they not swollen beyond belief. The metal pressed against them almost constantly as they had grown, and a bigger size would be needed before long.

"Have you learned your lesson?"

The master's voice was quiet, but Strike nodded his head eagerly to every word.

"Yes, yes, Master, I've learned! Please, let me please you again."

"You will."

Thank you...

"You will please me in your cage, and if you maintain this behavior, I'll let you out in two more weeks."

Two more weeks of hellish bliss. The pony couldn't take it, his mind scrambling as the master mounted him, panting in pleasure but his mind gone, broken apart to obedience from the thought of longer in the cage.

And he loved it.

The End