A cloaked figure rushed across the Everfree’s damp, misty forest floor, gliding through the trees and further into the underbrush.
Thick black leather boots smashed small, sickly green plants underneath, soft, rapid footfalls the only noise in the forest, save for the bugs and the occasional loud howl of a timberwolf. It was late, nearing sundown, not that time mattered to the Everfree– it was always a dark place, shadows on top of shadows, shades of murky black the only illumination.
The figure’s eyes glowed from underneath her heavy hood, her entire face obscured in the lack of the light. she was faceless, hurrying through the forest with only the movement of the undergrowth to announce its presence. Swish, swish, swish, swish...
The figure broke free from the underbrush in a small puff of leaves and pine needles, sprinting into the smallest of small clearings, the massive trees of the forest creating almost a ceiling above the front lawn of some sort of small hut. An ominous, lime glow bloomed from the interior, whispers and hums emanating from the foreboding abode, a pair of sinister-looking masks flanking the simple door. A greenish smoke puffed from the chimney, filling the leafy ceiling and choking the leaves, the dead amongst them constantly falling in a morbid rain. Swish, swish, swish, swish...
As she had cut through the forest, the figure now cut through the modestly-trimmed front lawn of the hut. A crunch came from underhoof as the choked leaves found themselves returned to earth. The figure was quick, excited. Swish-crunch, swish-crunch, piff piff piff.
The figure stopped, panting breaths rising from underneath her hood.She raised her gloved hands, and swung the garment down. A yellow face now poked above the cloak, a red mane cascading down and framing a still-cherubic face. Her ears were adorned with hoops of bronze that jingled with every movement. Orange eyes regarded the hut with a certain sense of awe, a thing leftover from years past, when a younger filly saw it from those same orbs. Apple Bloom stood in front of the hut, seemingly exhausted by her run through the forest, although underneath she was bubbling with excitement.
That day, she would become a Shaman.
Apple Bloom swallowed down her excitement for what must have been the twentieth time that evening, hands on her knees as she tried desperately to catch her breath. There was much she had learned over the last few years. Herbal remedies, healing rituals, chants and incantations for almost everything. Soon it would be all worth the long nights of study, the longer days of herb gathering, the yet longer weekends of standing over the stove and brewing through several days.
Apple Bloom reached towards the door, almost shivering in anticipation, and knocked three times. Thunk, thunk, thunk.
The humming stopped, though the whispers continued unabated, in a language that Apple Bloom couldn’t understand, a language guttural, throaty. When another cloaked figure answered the door, the voices went quiet, allowing the Shaman and her initiate space. Apple Bloom shot up, trying to stand tall, although her mouth still hung open, sucking in air, trying to calm her aching lungs and sooth her rapidly beating heart.
Zecora was even taller and more imposing than Apple Bloom. Like her apprentice, Zecora’s figure was obscured by a massive cloak. Her face, however, was beautiful, a pair of emerald eyes set in soft, loving features, meeting the fiery orange gaze of her protege, a mysterious half-smile sneaking its way out from her lips.Apple Bloom was going to be a protege for only a little while longer.
“Youngest Apple, come within; There’s much to do, we must begin.”
Her voice was deep and melodic, yet feminine. It was darkly compelling, the black of voices, peaceful, full. Apple Bloom had been hypnotised by that voice for all those many years of training. It was a voice that one could never find a reason to say no to.She didn’t respond verbally, lest her pent-up excitement gush out, but instead nodded and entered the hut.
Zecora closed the door behind them. The cauldron toiled, troubled and bubbled in the center of the small, one-room place. Mists boiled from various fizzing tubes and urns, filling the place with a steamy atmosphere. The single room was dimly lit, the only light coming weakly from crystals in the walls and the myriad glows of myriad brews. It was like a haunted house, almost, but more genuine.
Letting out a sigh, Apple Bloom looked over the cauldron, her nose wrinkling at the smell. It kept changing. Freshly turned earth, zap apple jam, love and friendship and how they often mixed...
Zecora pulled Apple Bloom away from the cauldron, swinging a hand over it, dismissing the vapors. It continued to bubble, the smells changing every few seconds, the mists making the air heavy, humid, arid. “Be not concerned with bubbling brews, it’s only to use for what we shall do.”
“Ya mean the Shaman initiation?” Apple Bloom blurted, before immediately covering her mouth with a hand, her eyes wide in embarrassment. The zebra chuckled, pulling the smaller pony close with an arm draped over her shoulder.
“Patience, eager youngest one; There’s preparations that must be done,” Zecora murmured, giving Apple Bloom’s shoulder an encouraging pat. “For now, bring me my salts from the ocean; It’s something I need to complete this potion.”
Apple Bloom nodded again, breaking free of Zecora’s comforting embrace and trotting over to the shelf on the other side of the room. She pulled a hefty jar of of a grainy mineral from the third shelf up, opening the top of the jar and handing it to the Shaman. Zecora took a handful of the salts in her hand, and gently poured it into the cauldron. In response, the mixture inside fizzed and bubbled, filling the air with the ever-changing scent, the heat from the cauldron enough to make the two of them take a few steps back.
As Zecora sifted through various potions and herbs, scouring the rounded walls and shelves for things she would need for what was to come, Apple Bloom became very aware of how oppressively hot the hut was. With the windows closed, and only a small chimney to offer any way for the heat to escape, the hut became a sort of ritualistic steam room. Apple Bloom found herself covered in a sheen of sweat in a matter of minutes. Apple Bloom let out a breath, which only served to make the air seem hotter.She wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her cloak, and the sleeve came away soaked in her sweat.
Zecora held onto her odd half-smile and began to disrobe.
Apple Bloom returned the smile and followed suit.
The first time, of course, it had been awkward, but Zecora soon taught her that there was nothing to fear from the naked body. The only reason clothing had been instituted was for some odd idea of modesty, and some understandable need for comfort in certain areas and cultures. For many centuries before that, ponies rarely bothered wearing clothes at all. In both a figurative and a literal way, Apple Bloom was freeing herself when the cloth belt holding the cloak was undone, and the entire hooded garment fell from her form. Just for good measure, she removed her boots and gloves and stood by the door, completely stripped and without a hint of a blush on her face. If it was anypony else that had given such an unspoken command, Apple Bloom would have been quite embarrassed, but Zecora...
Zecora, she could trust with her life.
The elder mentor shot Apple Bloom the small smile again. “Now that you’re naked, as procedure demands, may we proceed with the evening’s plans?”
Apple Bloom nodded towards her master. A chuckle escaped from the older zebra’s throat. Zecora was older, perhaps, but still beautiful, exotic. Apple Bloom couldn't help but admire her body as she walked around the shelves of the hut, pulling down mixtures and compounds and salts and pouring them into the cauldron. The way Zecora was toned, perfectly, with sinewy, powerful muscles strengthened by long years of travel and hardship. It was shapely, as if an hourglass, coming into a pair of perfect dips in her sides before expanding out. Her breasts, Apple Bloom noted, weren't of unusual or mind-boggling size, but instead complemented the rest of her form. It was a perfect example of a functional body– things like a massive rump or an ample bosom would be intrusive.
Yet, Zecora was still beautiful. Apple Bloom let a small, self-conscious thought enter her mind– she might have been toned by her years of Shaman’s training as well, but her form was more... cosmetic, perhaps?
“Apple Bloom, are you prepared? You seem to me a little... scared.”
Apple Bloom shook her head, her mouth feeling somewhat dry, and her chest following the movement of her head. Despite her youth, nature had decided that Apple Bloom would bear more bountiful breasts, rounder, larger, bouncier. Her rear, too, had been given such a “blessing”, smooth and plump. She was thankful that it was Zecora here, naked with her, since even her fellow former Crusaders would bring attention to the Shaman-in-training’s figure. Zecora didn’t judge her or ogle he. She merely watched Apple Bloom’s face as she poured unnameable liquids into the cauldron, stirring lazily.
Apple Bloom rubbed the back of her neck nervously. “It’s nuthin’, Zecora. Just... thinkin’, is all...”
“Is it what we often discussed?” Zecora said, before yet another smile cracked across her face. “How others admire your rear and bust?”
Nothing had to be said. The stares of many a colt had followed her assets on either side of her body.The attention bothered Apple Bloom a bit, to the point that she had taken to wearing her cloak most of the time, since the thing managed to hide her form in heaving cloth. Apple Bloom’s face glowed red hot, working against the greenish hues of the rest of the hut. Zecora chuckled underneath her breath, walking to her protege and grasping her shoulders, looking into her eyes. Emerald met garnet, the latter calming the former, the blush fading away and allowing Apple Bloom’s yellow coat to return to it’s normal hue.
“Apple Bloom, please, have no shame. Things are not bad as you may claim; there’s more to love than your dimensions, more that makes you worth of mention. You are a mare of character, hardworking and kind, forgiving and pure! It would take all night to say aloud, the many reasons I am so proud; Of you, my wondrous protege, there’s nothing more that I can say.”
Apple Bloom smiled sweetly. Zecora’s hands were calming. She could forget about anything on her mind here. Zecora was more than a friend to her. Zecora was a teacher, a mentor, an inspiration for her entire existence. To be asked to be her assistant was a gesture of friendship; to be asked to be her apprentice was a gesture of respect; to be asked to join the ranks of the Zebrican Shaman was a gesture of love.
“I... Thanks, Zecora, but it’s more ‘this whole ritual thing that’s got me nervous.”
Zecora’s hands left Apple Bloom’s shoulders, but the feeling lingered. That feeling that everything was going to be okay, that nothing could hurt or would hurt. The zebra mare smiled, a small, airy laugh making it’s way from her lungs.
“I understand, it’s completely all right to be nervous before a fertility rite.”
Apple Bloom chuckled nervously, rubbing up and down one of her arms.
“I... It’s just a bit awkward, y’see, cause Scoots hooked up wit that Cloudsdale kid, and I think Sweetie n’ Dinky Doo are doin’ somethin’ in between the sheets, but I’ve never really...”
Zecora scoffed, sniffing at the cauldron and holding out her hand.
“I had hoped that I had opened your mind; Do you not see that I do not find, an issue with your virginity, as it’s a further sign of your purity?”
Apple Bloom sighed, hopping over across the room to a table and nabbing a small box of matches, handing them to the zebra. “It’s not really ‘cause I’m pure,,” she muttered, “I just don’t get out much...”
Zecora smirked, striking a match and throw it into the acrid mix. It gave a burst of greenish fire, causing the both of them to recoil back, Apple Bloom letting out a shout while Zecora laughed heartily. The both of them turned back to the mixture. Like it’s smell, the color began to change as well, green to red to blue. Zecora nodded towards Apple Bloom, a smile playing across her lips.
“Then let us hope that the spirits don’t mind, a pony becoming one of our kind.”
She took a dipper from a small washing pan on one of the shelves and dunked it into the brew, pulling out a hefty amount of the liquid within, still steaming hot. Blowing on it to cool it, she returned to Apple Bloom, putting the mixture to her lips.
“Smallest Apple, drink it in. Your initiation now begins.”
Apple Bloom’s eyes widened, caught off guard, and she pulled her lips away. “N-Now?!”
Zecora merely nodded, and the youngest of the Apple family bit her lip. She couldn’t say no, but experience had taught Apple Bloom that rushing head-on into something without certainty could result in disaster. Zecora sighed, lowering the dipper, as well as her green eyes, and Apple Bloom felt a twinge of guilt. They had prepared for this, and there was no reason to back out now.
“Apple Bloom, if you’re unsure... I will not ask you to endure.”
“No,” Apple Bloom said, taking Zecora’s hand in hers and raising the bowl of the dipper to her mouth. “No, I’m ready. I wanna do this. I don’t wanna be like my sister and stuck on a farm all my life. Lets do this.”
Zecora paused for a moment, the dipper at Apple Bloom’s lips, looking into her proteges eyes. She saw a determined glint that once, many moons ago, she had worn herself, as her mentor placed this same dipper to her lips and told her to drink.
She nodded to Apple Bloom, and poured the mixture into her waiting mouth.
It tasted like it smelled, which was to say the taste kept changing, from apples to orange juice to chocolate cake to radishes. She could feel it, a waterfall of heat traveling down her throat. Her vision began to blur, and Apple Bloom initially assumed they were tears, but when she tried to blink it away, the blurriness stayed. Apple Bloom nearly jumped in her skin, but Zecora gripped her arms and held her in place, ignoring Apple Bloom’s whimpers of fear and discomfort.
“Youngest Apple, have no fear! Nothing is going to harm you here!”
And then it all went dark.
Apple Bloom cried out-- She was still conscious, then, which was good. Zecora had tightened her grip on her arms, as if expecting Apple Bloom to thrash about– but she remained stable, too stunned by the sudden apparent loss of her vision to attempt to move. Apple Bloom felt her heart rate slowly going down, her limbs untensing. She looked down– this was an odd sort of darkness. Her naked body was still visible, as if the rest of the world had disappeared and cast a single light upon her. Zecora’s voice, deep and lovely, came to her, as if the shaman was in front of her.
“You have nothing at all to fear. Now, tell me what you smell and hear.”
Apple Bloom swallowed. “Yer voice... The bubblin’ of the cauldron... The locusts outside... Wait... The whispers are gettin’ louder...”
Zecora gave a throaty, humming chuckle, and pushed Apple Bloom down gently. She landed on her rear, then laid back, not feeling the floor, but a surface that wasn’t there. The whispers grew, and grew, words and phrases in a language that Apple Bloom had never heard, beautiful and unknown. Huyu ni nani, the voices whispered, again and again, as if they were... They were chanting. Chanting a phrase in an unknown language. Huyu ni nani? Mgeni nzuri... Huyu ni nani, mgeni nzuri...
“To complete your initiation, the spirits and you must become as one.”
Apple Bloom tensed as she felt something brush against her cheek. She raised a hand to it, and pulled it away to see a glowing, greenish substance smeared onto her fingers. She felt Zecora slap her hand from the outside, a small grunt escaping the witch doctor’s throat.
“Youngest Apple, do be still, or you will never be fulfilled!”
The hint came across well enough. As the brush came again, Apple Bloom decided instead to relax, her hands at her sides, her eyes closed. The brushing went across her muzzle, tracing a jagged pattern across it, ending at the tip of one ear, then looping around and going down another. Where it trailed before, the brush left the most peculiar sensation that Apple Bloom had ever encountered. It tingled, vaguely, as if a thousand dulled needles poked her skin at every inch, not hard enough to break it but enough to be felt, and never pressing at the same time. The brush trailed down her other cheek and began lazily looping around her neck, her hair and head seemingly moving out of the way themselves to allow the touch to make its way across her jugular before her head was gently let down again. The tingling, it was amazing. It was affecting every part of Apple Bloom’s body, making her twitch, her limbs growing weak, her thoughts growing soft and increasingly basic.
She let out a quiet moan.The whispers grew stronger, as if responding to her. Mpya mganga, they said. Mpya mganga, si ulioanzishwa bado, lazima ulianzishwa.
The touch came to the top of Apple Bloom’s breast, making the sizable mound jiggle. Another moan was forced from her lips, louder this time.. Apple Bloom opened her eyes, and looked down. The greenish paint seemed to come from thin air, twisting around her sizable left breast, leaving an intricate pattern of glowing and tingling, the thousand needles biting into the flesh. When it reached the nipple, the brush twisted around, never touching the nipple itself, teasing Apple Bloom and forcing her to mewl and twist about as if held by invisible bonds. She groaned as it pulled away, then gasped as the brush seemed to press savagely into the nipple at last, drenching it in the paint, making Apple Bloom cry out in blissful agony as every one of those needles conjoined and pressed into the tit. When the painting began again at her other breast, Apple Bloom could barely register it over the white fuzz caused by the first, and simply rolled her head around, moaning, gasping, whimpering as it repeated again, the teasing, the biting, the nipping...
Lazima ulianzishwa, the whispers said, again and again, with growing power.
Her belly came next. The brush moved slowly, dragging across her flesh with an intimate pace. The tingling spread across her abs and stomach in intricate patterns. Intersecting lines, curves and jagged bolts cut wave after wave of amazing sensation across her, every stroke sending a tidal wave to her spine, the tingling crushing every thought in her body.
The brush came to her legs.
Apple Bloom let out a little eep, shutting them quickly, a blush rising to her cheeks. Her untouched marehood was shamelessly dripping and drooling over the floor that wasn’t there, fluid arousal flowing from her flower, spurred on by the magical paint that was now spiraling down her legs, slowly, the tingling spreading, spreading so far… The tingling coaxed open Apple Bloom’s legs, as she averted her eyes and tried not to think about how wet she was.
Something flicked against Apple Bloom’s nether lips, and she let out a squeak. The brush slid along the soaked outside, turning Apple Bloom into a squealing, helpless mess, greenish, glowing paint soon mixing with her juices. The voices and their chanting growing even stronger, drowning out all else. Lazima ulianzishwa! Lazima ulianzishwa! Lazima ulianzishwa!...
The spiral returned to her leg, teasing the insides of her thighs, making her jump and squeak and moan. It continued down to her shivering hoof, some invisible force holding the appendage in place as the trail of hundreds of thousands of little nails pushed into her skin. It pulled away, and began from the bottom of her other limb. Everything was shivering, the tingling was so wonderful, so fulfilling, and yet left Apple Bloom hungering for more. Her nethers went unattended to– she couldn’t find the control to bring a hand down to her soaking slit and finger herself, though she wanted to, desperately. The voices worked with the tingling to drown out all else. As the brush made it’s final stroke against her flank, Apple Bloom felt totally lost, drowned in a sea of torturous bliss.
Then it stopped.
Everything. The tingling, the whispers, even the sounds and smells and sensations from the real world, all of it gone, though her nethers still tingled with need. Apple Bloom’s eyes, which had been screwed shut in pleasure, now opened slightly, looking down with half-lidded eyes, while her mouth suppressed a frustrated groan. The paint glowed, phasing in and out of brightness, as if Apple Bloom’s body was now some sort of beacon. Her eyes shifted. She noticed something else glowing, slowly phasing into view.
It was faint, at first, but the visage seemed to grow slowly, glowing with the paint. He was a zebra, physically massive– not even Big Macintosh could have compared to his sheer size, and his entire body seemed comprised of chiseled, powerful muscle. He approached Apple Bloom, a glint in his eyes that made her tremble again. A pang of self-consciousness shot through Apple Bloom, and she shut her legs and eyes, unworthiness creeping through her.
Lazima ulianzishwa, lazima ulianzishwa, lazima ulianzishwa...
He spoke with a voice that was surprisingly soft, gentle, forgiving. Apple Bloom opened an eye, and took notice of his member. Like the rest of his form, it was massive, impressively long and thick. Apple Bloom had seen occasional glimpses of her brother every now and then, and even erect, he paled in comparison. The mere sight of it was enough to make her shiver, and the fact that it’s owner was kneeling beside her, staring into her eyes, smiling... Apple Bloom’s already shamelessly soaked slit was now positively drenched, a small puddle of her juices on the ground that wasn’t truly ground.
Apple Bloom sobbed, pushing her thighs together, the flesh spilling over itself on either end.
“I… I don’t… I...”
The visage’s smile grew. He reached out, and gently caressed one of Apple Bloom’s thighs with a glowing, ghostly hand. She shuddered at his touch, partially in surprise that he actually could touch her. His hand was warm, comforting in an oddly familiar way, tracing up and down her thigh.
Msiwe na woga, he murmured to her. Msiwe na woga, kwa wewe ni mzuri…
Apple Bloom’s eyes closed again, and her heart slowed. She took note of everything-- the nervous sweat on her coat, the gently phasing paint, the heated wetness of her nethers and the desperate need for release she had. The feeling of unworthiness left, her legs opening, ever so slowly. She felt the warrior’s hands on the insides of her thighs, gently pulling them apart as he moved over her, his arms slipping underneath her shoulder blades, holding her as if they were a pair of long-lost lovers. Apple Bloom opened her eyes, and was greeted by the warrior’s smiling face looking down upon her own blushing one. He kissed the top of her head, and she melted into his embrace. What did she have to fear from him?
Hakuna kupigwa, he said, a gentle smile on his lips, a light chuckle around his voice. Hakuna jambo. Karibu, mpya mganga.
Gently, the head of his massive length slipped into Apple Bloom’s snatch, and she could take no more.
She exploded over his glowing form, but the figure barely noticed, humming gently as he pressed further into her, the tingling returning. Her entire body was on fire, and she screamed in ecstasy, thousands of imaginary needles pressed into her from within her tunnel. He sheathed himself inside her with a satisfied grunt, his tip pressing against her cervix. Apple Bloom was, admittedly, a virgin, and the thought crossed her mind with a flash that this was supposed to hurt, but it felt so good, thousands of needles pressing against the tender, sensitive flesh. He pumped slowly in and out of her. Apple Bloom felt him press his thumb against her engorged, girlcum-covered clit, multiplying her previous orgasm and bringing her closer to her next, so deep, powerful, mercilessly slow and pleasurable thrusts pushing in and out of her puffy pussy lips, out, in, out, then in again.
The glowing warrior chuckled. Apple Bloom was so lost in pleasure she couldn’t be bothered to tell anymore. The spirit started to speed up his thrusts, plowing into Apple Bloom with supernatural strength, her breasts bouncing with every slap of flesh against flesh. Pap. pap, pap, pap. His massive cock tore into her again and again, amazing, she was going to cum all over this wonderful tool again, it was inevitable.
Apple Bloom gasped as the head of another spiritual erection pressed against her rear entrance, and found herself on top of another glowing form. His compatriot pulled out, allowing him to slip into Apple Bloom’s soaking, sensitive pussy to coat his length in natural lubricant, forcing yet another breathless squeal from Apple Bloom's mouth. The second form pulled out, and pressed against Apple Bloom’s rosebud, slowly pushing himself inside while his brother did the same to her pussy. Apple Bloom’s ass stretched to accommodate it’s intimidating visitor– Apple Bloom grunted, the pain and pleasure melting together to create a feeling entirely new, the twin cocks filling her in a way she could have never imagined before.
Apple Bloom’s body twitched as the pair of cocks pounded both of her holes, her body now ablaze in green fire. Not even the heat of Celestia’s sun could match the heat that Apple Bloom was feeling, the heat of big, powerful arms draped around her stomach and framing her sides, the warm, fulfilling sensation of massive zebra fuckpoles pushing and pulling in and out of her. Screaming, she was screaming now, it was all impossible to describe, so amazing, incredible.
All she could think about was the pair of cocks that had buried themselves in her snatch and snuffed her holes without a shred of mercy. She gushed again, her body a quaking mess, the warriors still fucking her, such stamina, such stamina they had. Apple Bloom was brought to tears by the second orgasm, ripping through her, her body nearly going limp, her eyes fluttering open and shut as she screamed at the top of her lungs, her brain broken.
When a third warrior appeared and offered his cock to her mouth, Apple Bloom didn’t hesitate to accept his offering– his gift, the wondrous gift of the spirits. It slipped into her throat with ease, as if it belonged there, a bulge leading down into her gut as he, too, fucked her. Apple Bloom’s screams became muffled groans of pure ecstasy, the three warriors fucking her in every way possible.
Another warrior appeared, and, seeing as Apple Bloom was in no position to negotiate, slipped his length between her ample breasts and began thrusting between them, holding them in place by the nipple. Another cock poked at her pussy, brushing up against it’s brother before forced itself along it into her, stretching Apple Bloom as if she was made for it. Her cervix cried out in pained euphoria every time one of the cocks beat up against it, almost forcing themselves into her womb.
Apple Bloom’s eyes rolled into her head. Every thought was on the gang of glowing girl-gaggers shoving themselves into every crevice and orifice they could find and then some. Cocks forced themselves into her pussy, her ass, her mouth, the spirits phasing across one another as they fucked Apple Bloom in ways that no living pony would ever could. Her vision was blurred, her consciousness barely there, only kept by a single focus, fucking, being filled, stuffed, slammed, brutally railed in every hole and orifice, stretched to her limit and still wanting more.
Cocks in her mouth, her brainpower used to suck them with what little strength she could find as she let out little grunts. Cocks brushing in between her breasts and pressing against her nipples. Cocks in her hands as she stroke them absently, and rubbing against her feet. Cocks haphazardly jammed into her pussy, pumping into her with savage speed and strength. Cocks stretching her ass, crammed inside of her. All of them pumping, rubbing, fucking her. Somehow, Apple Bloom had never felt more safe, more secure, more accepted, as these spirits took her and made her one with them. A peaceful feeling pulsed through her broken brain as her ethereal lovers sped up.
Their prods began to twitch, violently, and Apple Bloom moaned through the dicks in her mouth, the thought of being filled and fulfilled by the army of cocks inside of her giving her a thrill. The groaning and moaning of her ghostly warrior lovers grew, their chanting becoming more emphatic, drowning out all else. Lazima ulianzishwa, lazima ulianzishwa, lazima ulianzishwa...
She tried to follow their lead, tried to chant with them, but the only noise that escaped her throat was a faint gurgle.
Her eyes closed, and they finished.
Eight dicks embedded in Apple Bloom’s pussy, fired off all at once, the spirits groaning as they released a torrent of seed inside her, so tightly forced together within her that not a spurt was allowed to leave. Apple Bloom’s stomach grew rapidly from the sheer amount of the stuff, stretching to accommodate it all. Six dicks in her ass, fissuring fuck fluid into her rear, forcing themselves out and making a glowing, greenish mess of spiritual cum all over her plump ass. Four dicks down her throat, two staying in to give her a taste, another two firing all over her face, covering it completely, spirit semen dribbling down to the floor. Four dicks sandwiched between her breasts. Four at either one of her hooves, and two, the largest ones, in her hands, coating her arms and legs in sticky ghost goo. Her own release was drowned, lost in ghostly fluids, her body going numb with electrified passion.
It smelled wonderful, a musky scent filling the air, the spirits pulling themselves from every one of Apple Bloom’s orifices with surprising gentleness. Her eyes were closed, her breathing rapid, the occasional cough coming out to clear her semen-filled lungs. Her gut slowly drained out as cum flooded from both of her holes, glowing an eerie, supernatural green in a massive puddle on the floor. She faded in and out of consciousness, still humming and moaning, as a baby-batter waterfall flowed out of her every hole, every attempt to speak turning into a gargled mess of coughing. Slosh, slish, splort...
The warriors gazed at the new Shaman, as if appraising their work, nodding in affirmation to one another. Their work here was done. They backed away from her prone, leaking form with another chant upon their lips. Karibu mganga mpya, they said, again and again, more and more quietly as they faded from existence. Soon Apple Bloom was left alone, nothing the rhythm of her own cum-caked chest rising and falling and the utter darkness of the void that surrounded her. The invisible needles that had plucked and stimulated her flesh for so long began a slow retreat, until everything was just a gentle buzz, her brain finally able to process basic tasks.
Slowly, the spirit world fell away, and the real world returned to view, though Apple Bloom’s vision was blurry and indistinct. She could hear a dark, feminine chuckling somewhere to her left. Her head turned towards it, and Apple Bloom squinted as she tried to make out what that dark splotch in her vision was.
As things came into focus, Apple Bloom could see that Zecora was kneeled beside her, a light blush upon her face and a soft smile upon the lips she was licking clean. The youngest Apple had turned the floor into a sticky, shameless mess. Apple Bloom looked down-- her stomach was flat, her lungs were clear, and yet, it didn’t feel that way. Something was different.
“Zuh... Zecora.”
The words could finally come out without choking on warrior wad, Apple Bloom swallowing and speaking very slowly, sentences still difficult to form in the afterglow of her experience.
“Zecora, what just... happened to me?”
Zecora pulled Apple Bloom up to a sitting position.
“Hush, youngest Apple, you have come far; I see how devoted you truly are.”
“Zecora,” Apple Bloom mumbled, barely coherent, “Wha... Was all of that... Real?”
Zecora’s soft smile returned. Taking Apple Bloom’s hands in hers, Zecora gently pulled the yellow mare to her hooves, taking a step back as Apple Bloom’s legs almost gave out underneath her.
“Come, Shaman, you have passed your test, and you will need someplace to rest.”
Apple Bloom nodded, and leaned against Zecora for support as the ever-mysterious zebra led her to a cot. Zecora lowered Apple Bloom down onto the cot, pulling the blanket up to her chin. She knelt on the floor again, stroking the new Shaman’s mane, smiling all the while. Apple Bloom hummed, closing her eyes, her limbs feeling like jelly and her head swimming, still lost in the sensations of a few minutes ago.
“Zecora?”
“Hm?”
Apple Bloom yawned, rolling over in the cot, onto her side.
“Do ya wanna sleep wit’ me?”
Zecora closed her eyes, as if thinking it over, then nodded. Apple Bloom let out a little noise of appreciation as her fellow Shaman slipped underneath the covers. The zebra pulled her close, letting Apple Bloom rest in the crook of her neck. The yellow pony’s eyes fluttered shut, finally allowing rest to come to her powerless form.
Before sleep overtook her, she heard Zecora murmuring something into her ear, something she would remember for all eternity and beyond.
“I never thought that in you I’d discover, not only a friend, but also a lover.”
All Apple Bloom could do in response was sigh, and allow sleep to overcome her.
Kumaliza.
Author's Note
no but seriously why the anthro hate
