Human Mare Transformation Procedure
"Ughoo♡ Ooooooh♡♡♡ Ooooooooh♡♡♡♡"
After three straight days of relentless orgasm torture—disguised as "training" by the maids—I trembled on the chair, my ass quivering uncontrollably, bound tight in place. The seat was soaked with my piss and pussy juices, and the maid who entered my room pinched her nose in disgust.
"What a revolting stench. I don't remember mine being this bad."
Three days had passed. Excluding the times I blacked out completely—no matter how much water they poured or shocks they zapped me with—I'd endured nonstop torment and brainwashing. Things like repeating "I've cum" a hundred times mid-orgasm, or squealing like a pig in perfect rhythm a hundred times, or pledging undying loyalty to the ducal house. Or holding back orgasms, or stifling moans. Or both at once. Utterly unreasonable, impossible drills. In the end, I became the duke's most pathetic bitch ever—the record-holder for cumming and breaking rules. Word must have reached the duke himself by now.
The maids had whispered that punishment awaited me, but I didn't even have the energy to wonder what it might be. I gulped down the water the maid offered. I didn't want to drink, but they forced it anyway—and it tasted good, so refusing wasn't an option.
Ever since arriving here, I hadn't laid eyes on the duke. Of course, he wouldn't step into a room reeking like this. Still, couldn't he grace me with a glance, just once? While I was cumming my brains out like this?
A maid who looked like a messenger rapped sharply on the door to the underground torture chamber. Several maids filed in, murmuring among themselves, then hoisted me onto a stretcher. My limbs stayed bound, of course—no chance of escape. My pussy clenched and throbbed as I squeezed my eyes shut. These rare moments of being carried were my only breaks. God knows what even worse horrors lay ahead.
The underground held more rooms than just this torture chamber, and women's screams often echoed from them. A truly nightmarish place. Just hearing those cries triggered instant PTSD. Not the raw agony of pure torture—these were sounds wrapped in forced ecstasy and pain from endless orgasms.
"Here she is. Take her away."
The maids lowered me onto what looked like a surgical chair. Wary of resistance, they secured each limb slowly, without a single gap in their vigilance. Not that I had the strength or will to flee. These weren't ordinary virgins. They'd graduated the same hellish training I had—and started as exceptional women. Adventurers, maybe. Mages. Strong, glamorous types, for sure.
They blindfolded me and shoved a gag into my mouth. A maid spoke in a cold voice.
"Our master heard your story and found it quite intriguing. Be grateful."
I wanted to thank her, but with my mouth stuffed, no words came out.
"Thus, instead of the standard punishment for lowly bitches, he's decreed a 'special punishment.' Considering your superior physical abilities, he's decided to remake you as the ducal house's human mare."
"...........?"
"The semi-permanent procedure begins now."
No sooner had her words ended than a heavy thud echoed nearby, like something massive hitting the floor. More torture? I fought my pounding heart, straining to focus. Heavy iron clanks, pneumatic hisses—tools more than enough to shatter a human body.
"First, we'll ensure your arms and legs can never extend again. No amputations, so rest easy. Master prefers to preserve his property intact."
Never extend my arms and legs? I flashed back to the women crawling in the courtyard three days ago, limbs folded tight against their bodies as they dragged themselves across the dirt.
"Left arm first. Prep it."
Thud! Clang! Whiiiir! Clank! Clank! Eerie mechanical groans filled the air. Terror seized me; I thrashed wildly, but the mana-forged steel restraints didn't budge. Maids swarmed, forcing my arm to fold inward with crushing weight. Agony exploded as my forearm buckled against itself. Then something soft, like supple leather, wrapped around it.
"A restraint made from dragon hide—the same as the garden bitches wear. But for you, we've added special measures."
Clank! Clank! Next, a heavy metal brace clamped onto my elbow and locked tight.
"Commencing weld."
"Mmmph?!?!"
Welding? On a person?
Ziiiiing!!! Whiiiiiirrrrr!!! A ear-splitting screech tore through me, followed by searing heat radiating from my arm. Sparks flying? The brace's pressure intensified, crushing my folded arm like it might implode. I screamed in torment.
"Mmmphhh!!!!!! Mooooohhh!!! Ahhhhaaa!! Stoooop!!!"
Whether I screamed or not, the restraint tightened mercilessly. My arm shortened by half; the forearm and wrist could barely twitch now.
"Next, right leg. Expect strong resistance, so we'll sever the tendons first, heal them later."
"Mmmphhh!!!!"
Blazing pain erupted, and my leg went limp. The surgical bed tilted upright; from lying down, I hung suspended. Maids grabbed my calf, forcibly folding it back. My long leg snapped behind me in seconds, sole kissing my ass. Then the leather restraint, the metal brace assembled slow, and welding began. Amid the ripping torch whine, a maid narrated calmly.
"These restraints were made to bind non-humans. Everything but the weld is hellsteel—resistant to extreme heat, pressure, impacts, piercings. Even a master smith couldn't dismantle it casually. You're permanently locked now."
Her death-sentence words unleashed inner screams of masochistic ecstasy. Thrilling lines for a maso bitch like me. But terror loomed too. Already so uncomfortable. Better if they'd just amputated—out of sight, out of mind. This left them dangling, taunting.
She kept explaining through the third and fourth assemblies.
"Restraint's not the end. You're a 'mare' now. But you look like a pig still. Time to fit both hind legs."
My fully locked legs flailed like a pig's stubs on the bed. More additions? Maids pressed something to my bound elbows and knees. Welding sounds again. No resistance left in me now. Maso heaven words: never, absolutely, eternally. Locked in that reality, pussy juice leaked from sheer arousal. At least torment my pussy and clit while you're at it.
"What we just installed are mare-form legs. To stretch your stubby pig limbs a bit longer."
Surgery done? They removed the blindfold. I stared at my limbs. Perfectly folded, welded at ninety-plus degrees—zero extension possible. And at the ends—elbows and knees—long steel horse ankles and hooves were fused on.
"Finally."
The maid beckoned; another hauled over something massive from behind.
"An anal plug custom for maso trash mares like you. Like it?"
"..........Mmph!"
A pumpkin-sized string of anal beads loomed. Shove that in, and my sphincter would shred—piss and shit leaking forever.
"You don't even get leaking rights. This mare plug is special—reacts to mana. Grows, shrinks, heats, cools, vibrates on command. No peace, even in sleep."
The colossal beaded monster neared my asshole. My new limbs shuddered violently.
"Don't resist. Recommended."
The beads forced entry. Bigger than any goblin toy. Crunch. Cruuuunch. Ominous tears as my sphincter ruptured. No more, no moooore♡♡♡♡ Legs and body convulsed madly. Eyes rolled back, I savored the agony. Lightning pain surged through every nerve to my brain, toes curling in electric bliss. Teeth grinding the gag to splinters, I shook. Maids pinned me firm—like calming a wild mare. Pathetic, I leaked more pussy juice.
"Next: chastity belt and aphrodisiac injection. Then, mare training begins. Rejoice. This won't be child's play like before."