The Second Rate was a dive bar that knew exactly what it was and what it could expect to pull through the doors. The interior was all rough stone for flooring and chipped plaster for walls, the color was a sickly white shade best described as 'bloodless pale.' The tables, chairs and stools showed plenty of age, with nicks and cracks joining the wear and rust. The long, J-shaped bar was made of stone, pitted and worn from all the years of spilled drinks and other fluids. The clientele was also similarly worn and tired, drink-nursing nobodies or hard-drinking hotheads of all species were scattered around the dimly-lit room.
Sitting at the bar and slopping up glasses of cheap whiskey and water was Gilda the griffin, having at least the presence of mind to pace herself. She was inebriated but not completely wasted, the intake less than her usual. She wasn't as argumentative as usual, either. She was almost pleasant, meaning she was not actively battering those around her.
“Set up another one, whatever's in the well. And don't drown it,” Gilda growled to the bartender, a non-descript unicorn pony who rather efficiently put down a shot glass and poured in a slug of whiskey, hitting it with a splash of seltzer. She slapped down some money and took down her drink with a loud gulp.
As Gilda slammed down her glass there was a larger and even more imposing thump beside her. The stool next to her at the bar was suddenly and dramatically occupied by a gargantuan slab of cobalt beef, creaking muscles bulging as he placed his hands on the bar. “Ouzo, a full-sized glass. And it had better be damn cold.”
“You're new,” Gilda said with a slight glance up and down the minotaur's form. “Never seen anybody order that before.”
“I know what I like and how I like it. If you know what you like, then you strike!” Iron Will bellowed, slamming a meaty fist on the bar. The bartender only set down a large flagon-like glass container filled with the clear liquor. “And I need it. I had a bad deal in some little place called Ponyville.” He took a long, loud swallow.
Gilda scoffed and pointed at the shot glass, prompting a repeat of what she'd had before. “Guh. Ponyville. That place reeks of geeks. Full of dorks, dweebs and losers.”
“I don't know, I just got stiffed on my usual fee. But that really hurts, I take pride in my methods,” Iron Will said, thumping his broad chest. He finished the glass of ouzo with a gulp and a huge sigh. “I just need an evening to myself.”
Gilda blew at her bang feathers, sucking back her drink slowly. “For a beefy bull you're too soft on them. You were there. It sucks big time. I can't believe you're being such a wuss.”
“Come on, it's a good place to shop and those ponies sure are nice,” Iron Will noted, getting himself set up with another drink.
“Whatever, dude, you're the pansy-ass bitch saying that, not me,” Gilda said, sliding her upturned glass across the bar. “Just like those fucking ponies...”
“Damn... my pride still hurts and I take that seriously but you're just vomiting up the hate. What happened in that town that fucked your head so bad?” Iron Will asked.
“Screw you, I don't have to tell you anything!” Gilda snapped, taking the shot that had been refilled during her angry pause and hammering it down.
“Shit. What, did they kill your parents and set fire to your dog?” Iron Will queried.
“I probably woulda liked that,” Gilda muttered, clutching her empty glass so hard she nearly broke it. “They ran me outta town, just for being too real, too raw, way the fuck too awesome for them. All of them. Dash too...”
“'Dash'?” Iron Will asked.
“I fucking loved that stupid bitch!” Gilda shrieked, holding the glass out for more and getting it. “We could slut it up like like pros but we always scissored the fuck out of each other and we loved it. Then she went off and got that job and moved to Ponyville and made all those dorky new friends...” Gilda slugged back the sot and pushed the glass far away. “And she ran me out of town, when she used to be just like me.”
“Sucks to be you,” Iron Will said, gulping down his frigid drink without a change to his expression.
“Fuck that, It sucks to be them. They can't handle this, that's their malfunction. Fucking Dash. I'm not gonna let that get me down. I'm gonna show them. Maybe I'll come back, grab Dash and do her until she comes crawling back,” Gilda stated, thumping her talon down on the bar.
“You've got balls, griffin. I like that,” Iron Will said with a laugh, looking Gilda over with an appreciative eye. “I'm Iron Will, motivational speaker and bodybuilder. And you look like you could take me. Wanna try?”
Gilda scoffed loudly and turned a jaundiced eye on Iron Will. She gave him a few looks before she finally looked more appreciative. “I'm Gilda, and you're never gonna impress me. But I'll let you stick your dick in me anyhow because I'm drunk and you're probably strong enough to make me feel it.”
Half an hour later Iron Will and Gilda were back at Iron Will's place. It was a pretty cheap motel but it had a bed front and center and didn't smell like puke, which elevated it to at least three stars as far as Gilda was concerned. The big bull had attempted to be hands-on on the way there but Gilda had snapped at him enough times to let him know it was not going to happen.
Iron Will groped at Gilda again as he opened the door to his room, noting with some pleasure that she scoffed but did not push him away. As soon as the door opened she was the one to initiate, leaping up to attack his lips with a painfully hard, closed-mouth kiss. Her talons stroked and scratched along his muscular back, not a trace of real damage seen on the solid flesh save for tiny, red furrows.
He attempted to add tongue to the kiss, and got a decent bit of the fat, slimy muscle down her throat before she gave a light gag and slapped him solidly across the face. She pulled away with a loud slurp and spat out a glob of mingled saliva, striking one of his hooves with it. “Alright, alright, cool it, dude. I didn't order any cow tongue for dinner so don't try feeding it to me.”
Iron Will laughed again and shook his head. “Fine. You said you could take it, let me see, show me that chicken ass.”
“I'm an eagle up here,” Gilda screeched, pointing to her face. She then pointed to her ass, and gave it a slap with one of her talons. “And I'm a fucking lioness down here, beefsteak. Don't forget it. My fucking ass could eat you, never mind my beak.”
Iron Will ignored the boastful threat and gave a hearty laugh, coming up behind Gilda and slapping one meaty, hard-palmed hand down upon Gilda's equally-solid, muscle-tight hindquarters. “Heh heh heh... very nice... back home we call you a koulu, a cow with a nice, big, fat, juicy ass.”
Gilda screeched again and turned a glare on Iron Will, tail lashing about in agitation. “You stupid bull! That ass is one hundred percent all muscle! You're an idiot if you can't tell that. No wonder you were so soft on Ponyville, you're just as much of a dweeby dork as the rest of them.”
Another smack rang as the huge hands came down on the firm ass once more, fingers digging in and groping solidly. Both were strong, but Iron Will was just that much stronger. “You've got quite a beak on you, bird. But like I tell my students, if someone tries to block, show them that you rock!”
Gilda suddenly turned on Iron Will and hit him, chest-to-chest, using all of her mighty griffonic strength to shove at the bulky minotaur, attempting to force him over and onto the bed. “I'll show you some rocking, bull-boy. I'm an alpha bitch and you're gonna scream my name when I'm done with you. I might even let you cum on me or something but you are definitely waiting your turn, you little shit!”
Iron Will met the impact without fear or hesitation, shoving out his thick pecs and scraping his hooves on the cheap carpet of the motel room. Gilda's balled talons smacked heavily into his chest and abdomen as she grew increasingly intent on getting him down so she could mount him. He finally grabbed at her wrists and squeezed down hard, pulling them to the side with only a bit of struggle. “Not happening, bird! You engage with me I rage at you!” He tossed her back and reached under the bed.
“Stupid fucking...” Gilda screeched and attacked again, blind to anything except going after Iron Will. She didn't see him come out with the heavy cloth and pleather cuffs that were connected by metal rings. He had her wrists connected and incapacitated under her body before she even knew. As a final insult he shoved her roughly to the ground and planted a split hoof on her back. “Hey! What is this?!”
“What's the matter? Can't you take it?” Iron Will asked mockingly, grinning down at her.
“I can take it, bull-boy! But I'm supposed to be on top of you. I'm the top here, not you!” Gilda screeched in response.
Iron Will contemptuously hocked a big wad of saliva right across Gilda's asscheeks, catching both of them with that single expectoration. His hand followed quickly after, laying a heavy spank across the wet, sticky globes. He let the other slap across them as well. He slapped again, right and left, following by backhanding the chiseled cheeks, right and left. “Koulu,” he said with a mocking tone.
Gilda ground her beak and squeezed her eyes shut tight. She was not used to being with a man stronger than her. She was used to easily-dominated ponies or weak members of her own species. Her ass was not meant for a spanking, especially not for the kind of muscle-backed pounding it was taking. In truth, even with all the muscle it was quite sensitive. “I-is that all you've got? You're n-nothing!”
“Oh yea? Maybe I can give you more!” Iron Will said with a laugh, one hand grabbing Gilda's tail and yanking it up sharply. His other laid down a double-cheek-slapping barrage, which slowly migrated until it was slapping over one twitching thigh, then over the other. “How's that?”
“Not... impressed,” Gilda hissed through her beak. Her ass and thighs were burning and tingling from the furious, powerful punishment her rear end was getting. Never had anyone dared to treat her like that! And... she was liking it, the subtle pain, the rich smack of impact, the fading tingle from each slap. “Stupid... stupid bull!”
“Well, let's try this...” Another hock and spit, the thick glob of saliva splattering directly over Gilda's exposed and vulnerable sphincter. Iron Will's fingers immediately came in, rubbing and grinding the spit firmly against the twitching passage. He passed on commentary about the glistening he could see on her sex. His focus was very different.
“Knew you were a freak. Ass-fucker... I'm not a dude, dude, I'm all chick, are you fucking blind?” she screeched. The fading tingle and warm 'glow' radiating from her ass was mixing with the hard, dominating rub of saliva over her tight ass. She blushed deeply as she grew damper, making her look so much weaker.
Iron Will's index finger did not stop at mere rubbing. He kept the pressure, fighting against Gilda's refusal. He pushed the issue again, forcing his digit into her ass, laughing at the slight screech that accompanied the penetration. “Little too much? Need me to dial it back?”
“Is that it? One finger? Who do you think you're dealing with?” Gilda cried, turning her head back as much as she could to glare contemptuously at her bovine butt-plugger. Her rear wriggled and twisted about as she strove to remove the finger from her. She wasn't used to getting it other than on her terms.
“Two fingers?” Iron Will offered, slightly hooking his index finger so he could firmly pull on the tight anal flesh, giving him just enough space to work a second finger in, again ignoring resistance. “Better?” He asked, twisting the fingers around like he was trying to work a key in a stubborn lock.
“Hey! Watch it!” Gilda screeched, pulling forward with all her might, or at least what she could manage using only her rear legs and a tugging motion that amounted to throwing her upper body forward. It did little good. Her ass clamped down around the probing, twisting fingers, squeezing hard as possible to try and force them out. “Get those things out of me now!”
“You asked...” Iron Will said, yanking his fingers out of Gilda's ass and giving her a hard slap. Her rear was not allowed to be vacant for very long, however, as he dipped his head down and shoved the tip of one horn against the slightly-open rear passage. Fortunately for Gilda the horn had been blunted and rounded, leaving the smooth and polished surface of the obscenely thick thing to slide in without as much risk of harm. “How's that?”
Gilda released a shriek, in proper eagle fashion, which was tinged with a leonine roar. Both aspects of her body reacted to the humiliating indignity of the situation. The thick horn was not painful in and of itself but there was an element of danger to it, even blunted, forcing her body to be still. She inwardly seethed; he had finally found a way to keep her still. “Th-this is such a skeezy thing to do! I told you you were a fucking freak! Get your fucking horn out of my ass!”
“What if I don't want to? It fits and it got you to stay still,” Iron Will said with a gruff laugh. He moved his head back and forth, slowly, seeing how far he could get in before he had to stop, and watching his thick, tapered horn opening her butt up a good amount.
“Nnnngh! C-cut it out! Pull it out! Now! Do it!” Gilda's tense body trembled, her desire to shake and shiver being held in check by her rational mind. She couldn't risk such a movement. Her breath huffed out, carrying growls and snarls and her captured talons made every effort to reach out and scratch at the pleather holding them in check.
“What do I replace it with?” Iron Will asked, one hand softly playing between Gilda's shivering thighs, his strong fingers spreading the lips of her sex, one pressing between them, another manipulating her clit with firm pressure and little motions, like he was working her joy-button like a joystick. “Gotta keep a stick up your ass somehow; you seem to like it.”
“I-I don't care! Just get that horn out of me before you stab my guts, you sick freak!” She should have been more diplomatic, given her state. However, she was not that sort, no matter what duress she was under. She hadn't held herself off from any kind of bitchiness before. She would not let the big bull steal her strengths.
The horn slid back, slowly, agonizingly slowly. It almost felt like Iron Will waited for the twitching ring of flesh to clench back down to proper tightness before the next bit of horn came out. Whatever the reason for it, he finally got the horn out, and spat on her rear star once more, a more copious amount than before. He also got a glob of spit onto his hand. “You keep asking for bad stuff, griffin. I'm starting to think you're not really the top...”
“Let me out of these and I'll show you topping you brainless steroid steer! I'll-!” The threat, which had been accompanied by thrashing and more attempts at getting away cut off sharply when she heard the wet slap of a spit-slickened hand landing on a large surface. Then there was the uncomfortably long time that it took to move that hand over the surface.
“All-natural beef. I never needed any of that stuff. So I never had to be afraid of... shrinkage,” Iron Will said, with a deep chuckle. He nudged something against her ass, putting on a solid bit of pressure. It was like a fist, but a fist that was slightly rounded, and oozing heavily with hot fluid. The hot gushes of precum splattered thickly over the tingling warmth of her spanked backside, which made it flush anew, sharpening the soreness for a moment.
Gilda's head slowly turned, eyes wide. She knew what she would see. But she had to see it, just to know how fucked she was about to be. The pole of dark cobalt blue was throbbing, veins standing out on the surface, giving it an almost angry appearance. She had sure given the owner cause to be angry... she couldn't see the head but the shaft was almost as long as his upper leg, and was almost as thick as a pony's leg. One of the bigger draft pony's legs. She could see something sway between his legs but it couldn't be real, that couldn't be his sac... “No way...”
“All the way!” Iron Will bellowed loudly, hips hunching forward suddenly, applying tremendous pressure to Gilda's anus. She had strength and an intense desire not to get reamed on her side. He had strength, a desire to ream her and weight to throw behind his thrust on his side. The size and resistance kept it from being an easy proposition, but it was one her body could not refuse, however hard it tried. With a shared cry, her a pained shriek, his a triumphant low, Iron Will breached the barrier and popped the head of his monster minotaur meat into Gilda's agonized ass.
She continued to scream as the bovine pile driver plowed into her previously penetrated ass. Her rear passage was packed full with more flesh than she had ever taken in any opening before, right to the limit of her ability to hold it. Iron Will was relentless in his thrusting, holding tight onto her hips and pulling as he thrust, to drive every last inch that he could into the clutching, squirming depths of her colon.
Gilda's talons balled and struggled against the tight binding holding them together helpless. She again tried to reach out and scratch them, or wiggle out, or do anything other that to appear to meekly lay there and accept the forced minotaur sodomy. Every thrust of his cobalt copulation club brought a new screech of discomfort. She was tough enough to take it but she didn't want to be taking anything at all, not when she wasn't in control and telling him where to go.
The full, unbelievable size of his genitals came into full focus for her when an especially deep and violent thrust not only bulged her guts but slapped his nuts against her thighs. It wasn't the last time, either. His monster-sized low-hangers slammed against the back of her thighs so hard and so often she had to wonder why he wasn't screaming in agony. He just seemed to be bellowing in ultimate triumph, his monstrous meat stick mashing her insides and giving her a bulge while he gave her yet another spanking, but one more lewd than the previous.
“Still think you can get out of this? I don't think so!” Iron Will shouted suddenly, strengthening the grip on her hips and pushing his dick up more, aiming for the full insertion. “Try to get away, I'll make you pay!” He punctuated the last words with solid strokes of his hips, the ball-battering thrusts finally getting him down to the bottom, his own crotch slapping against her. He had done it, by sheer will and force. Her belly bulged with his cock's depth and his balls rested securely against her golden legs. He held himself there, making her feel the throb of the whole length of his rod.
The uncomfortably full sensation was bad, and Gilda thought that was the worst of it. Then Iron Will drew his hips back. The sensation of emptiness in her guts was nothing compared to the thrilling fear that struck her: he was going to thrust back in.
He did it without a trace of hesitation or any of the stiff preparatory thrusts he had used before. He rammed his rod back into her once more, bulging her belly and ramming her ass with his huge stones. The feeling persisted for only a moment, before he drew back and let go, setting up a rhythm, letting her ass have it, inside and out.
Gilda screeched and cried out for him to stop, her pride taking as big of a beating as her butt. She was not only dominated but humiliated by the anal drilling. She lost control and got more than she could take shoved in her tightest hole. All her cries for release fell on deaf bovine ears.
Iron Will was grunting and straining, nearly snorting steam as he rudely violated Gilda's back end. She was hot, tight, and fit snug as he wanted as he bulged her belly. It was working for him better than anything else. His precum was pouring out in huge gushes, practically the size of a normal cumshot. But it was still just the preliminary.
“Where's all that attitude now, griffin?" Iron Will cried out mockingly, a body-vibrating groan following soon after.
“F-fuck you! That enough attitude for you, you ass-cramming bastard?” Gilda retorted, screaming as another ram rocked her form and bulged her gut.
A few more thrusts brought another long, hard moan and more blasts of precum. As some form of warning, or perhaps boasting, Iron Will cried out, “I'll prove I'm a stud, here comes the flood!”
He came with a bellow, driving down deep and lifting Gilda up on his organ. Her cries blended with his groans, each one yelling out as his cum blasted into her. Each shot was so heavy it moved her belly in front of his cock's bulge, the belly swelling out more and more as he dumped minotaur cream into her.
Iron Will remained standing proud, half-holding Gilda with his hands, half supporting her with the sheer strength of his rod. He was looking more than proud, his muscles flexing and showing off, extra-defined thanks to a sheen of sweat. “So, what did you think of that? Looks like you sure had a good time.”
“Get... this... out of me you beefy freak!” Gilda shouted. The hot cream was plugged up very well indeed, her agonized ass sealed off like a bottle of champagne. The comparison was very apt given the pressure that was behind the swollen gut. She could feel the flooding ooze more that pooling in her belly. The hot load filled her and went along the path of least resistance. Incredibly, she felt the hot glop crawling up her esophagus until she wound up choking and gagging, just a moment before she spluttered out a few huge blobs of thick bull cream.
“Figured a tight-ass like you would be tight on the other side,” Iron Will said, half-joking. He let Gilda back down and slowly pulled his titanic pole back, sliding the cum-washed piece of meat out little by little, half out of practicality, half just to make Gilda endure it longer. He finally reached the crown and pulled it out with a soft grunt. With a sound like a cork the bull dick pulled out, and a sudden gush of fresh cum poured out, letting Gilda's distended stomach pull back slowly, a few pushes against the surface flattening it out more-or-less properly and getting her into something like her former shape.
“That was insane...” Gilda whispered, shaking her head and tugging at her bindings again. “You're insane! Let me the fuck out of here! Get these off of me right now!”
“No can do. See, I'm not here alone. There's a friend of yours here, needs to have a few words with you,” Iron Will said, grinning broadly.
“What are you talking about? What friend? I haven't got friends anymore!” Gilda cried.
“I'm everyone's friend!” Chirped an unnaturally cheerful voice. With a springy boinging sound, Pinkie Pie bounced her way out of the room's bathroom and gave Gilda a huge, cheerful smile. “Even a meany-mean-mean pants like you! Though you're not wearing pants so a meany-mean-mean naked butt like you.”
Gilda goggled, one eye coming to focus hard on Pinkie, disbelief and disdain filling her features. “Seriously? Pinkie Pie? You? This is just great! How in the fuck did this happen?”
“Oh, simple! You were really, really mean, rude and cruel to folks in town. You were a bad griffin and needed to be punished. So, I asked Iron Will here really, really nicely if he'd help me, after he let Fluttershy keep her money. He's really nice,” Pinkie said, smiling up at Iron Will.
“Thank you,” Iron Will said, a bit demurely, stepping away to an unobtrusive spot.
“'Nice'?!” Gilda shouted. “He fucked me up the ass with a giant dick! He punched my guts from the inside and made me swell up with cum. I can fucking taste it!”
“At least you're feeling swell,” Pinkie said, “Well, he was nice to me. He did this favor and never asked for anything. But that's only part of it. See, I think you need a special bit of Pinkie Punishment. Then you'll stay super nice and never hurt folks like you did.”
“What are you going to do? Party me to death?” Gilda deadpanned, rolling her eyes.
“Nope! I'm gonna make you smile!” Pinkie suddenly turned in front of Gilda's face and reared up. She revealed a sheath on her belly. But not just a sheath, a tremendous one. If the organ contained within remained in proportion to normal pony erections it would rival Iron Will, if not just surpass him. As a way to show that, she also sported a set of testicles that nearly swept the ground as she moved. “I've heard really big penises make folks smile!”
“Wh-what the fuck?! Where did that come from?!” Gilda stared at the huge sheath. And dropped her jaw as Pinkie dropped her flesh, the heavy tube literally thumping the ground before springing partially to hardness. It slapped against her belly and chest, and grew ever thicker and longer. The pole was a truly impressive piece of equine anatomy, with a fleshy medial ring, bump-studded blunt and mushroom-like crown, and a large number of standing veins throbbing all over it. As a final, perversely appropriate touch, a word was inked on the flesh, 'JOKE.'
“I just really, really needed one. So I got one; Twilight owed me a favor and said she could give it to me without messing up the spell. That's usually how these things work,” Pinkie said, nodding sagely. She wasted no time in bouncing behind Gilda, titanic member waving and wobbling beneath her. She reared up and planted the fat tip of her member against the griffiness' cum-covered but unused pussy, mashing the thick equine equipment against the tight lips. She strained and huffed, twisting her body about as she worked to try and forcibly spread the lips and breach the entrance. “Hey! Let me in!”
Gilda had had her beak clenched tight as she concentrated on keeping herself clenched. She was clamped down tight and keeping the pony pole out. But she still managed to seethe out, “Are you kidding me? You can't be serious!”
“Come on! Can't you take a joke?” Pinkie asked, using as bright a tone as her huffing, thick voice could manage. She forced the issue all the harder and finally won the battle, her broad crown finally just forcibly wedging the seldom-used lips wide open and allowing the rest of the meaty monster to shove in through the passage of squeezing, resisting muscles.
If Gilda had thought that Iron Will's anal invasion had been a pain and a stretch this was something else altogether. The huge pony tool reamed her out to a tremendous width, while the steady thrusts and eager, unrelenting shoves passed more and more unbearably girthy inches into her sex, making it feel like the thing was endless, or at least that it was apt to come out the other end.
To add to her humiliation and suffering, Iron Will stepped back into the picture, coming around to Gilda's front. The huge penetration had lifted her ass into the air, and exposed her belly, letting the big bull notice the griffiness' exposed nipples. He knelt before her, grinning perversely and reached around on either side of her midsection, groping about on her belly until his fingers found the pink nubs.
He gave them an immediate, solid pinch, rolling and yanking on them firmly. A screech of shock and dismay came from Gilda, in the middle of a long, low series of moans over the lingering, pulsing ache of her stretch. The big bull yanked on the nipples as if he expected to get himself some fresh milk; given the probable case that minotaur women lactated freely, he likely did.
Iron Will's humiliating nipple-abuse was only the topping on the sexual sundae. The giant pony pole that Pinkie brought to bear against her was doing as much as Iron Will's rod had done, just in a greater amount. She was being battered in the guts by the blunt crown, her belly bowing out and showing the final location of the titanic tool. Her hips were even getting the same sort of workout they had before from the bashing of Pinkie's bloated and insanely-sized sac.
All the while the pink piece of meat was pouring with precum, washing Gilda's insides with the hot fluid and making it pour out of her passage to splatter on the floor. It looked like she had been seeded by a whole team of stallions, when it was just a single mare letting her have the preliminaries. Given the mind-boggling size describing its location in her body seemed silly, but it was as if she was not only in Gilda's womb, but moving it around her insides. Appropriately, it was making her hysterical.
“Get it out! Get it out!” She wasn't just pained by the gargantuan penetration, Gilda was thinking about more practical things. She still felt some minotaur cum pooled in her abused backside and running out of her stretched-out anus. It was simply humiliating to have semen clogging her rear end. Having hot wads blown into her womb was a different proposition altogether. “Pull it out now, Pinkie!”
“Nopenopenopenope!” Pinkie chanted, cheerfully, her slim but strong hips smacking noisily over and over on Gilda's backside, as her cock repeatedly and rhythmically bulged out her stomach again and again. “No can do. Part of the Pinkie Punishment Promise! I'm gonna make you smile, no matter what it takes. And really big, gooey climaxes make folks smile. They do it in pornos!”
The forced fuck reached for a climax, indicated by the increasing pitches and degrees of intensity in the screeches of Pinkie and Gilda. Pinkie was having the time of her life cramming the screeching griffiness more than full of fat flesh. Gilda was only responding to how close Pinkie seemed. The precum was more copious, the thrusts more erratic, the throb of the pony cock more powerful. “No! Wait!” She had to save her womb from the coming ooze.
“Pinkie Party Cannon fire!” Pinkie cried out suddenly. That was accompanied by a tremendous thrust that bulged Gilda's belly. It bulged out more at intervals, the geyser-powerful cumshots rounding out her front for a moment before it went back to a more basic bulge. The thick and copious splatters filled every available nook, flooding up both fallopian tubes and rushing down the cock-choked passage to pour out of Gilda's sex and onto the ground, like a glue-thick waterfall.
The slow oozing out, however, was not draining Gilda's body of the potent pony paste. Some was still trapped within, making her distended stomach swell and bulge all the more. Gilda already looked to be in the state that she feared, even if it was just the chick-batter that was bloating her up. “No... this is nuts...”
“Yup! Nuts! Mine!” Pinkie chirped. Her boundless energy lent the perverted comment a certain amount of joyful abandon, as if she was talking about an innocent prank, rather than a largely-forced insemination. Those nuts in question were resting against Gilda's backside, almost seeming to churn with sperm.
“Are we done here?” Gilda demanded, back to her gruff self after the moment of worry had passed. She was a tough bird. She'd manage this. “Can I get out and take a shower? This stuff takes forever to get out of fur. You assholes sprayed it everywhere...”
“I can finish anytime. What about you? Want some more?” Pinkie graciously asked Iron Will.
The big minotaur considered the question and stroked his erect organ in one strong hand. “I could do a round two. Spin her around and we can share.”
“Wheeee! Sharing is caring and that's super important. Alright, we can share her once,” Pinkie said in her usual eager chirp. Using a quick motion that could barely be seen she reared back and spun Gilda on her gargantuan organ, presenting the griffiness' rear end to Iron Will.
As the monster minotaur member plunged back into her previously-fucked hind passage, and her pussy remained stretched around the ridiculously oversized pony pole, Gilda could only shriek in frustration, “Dweebs!”
Author's Note
(Existing somewhere between a suggestion and a request, this story came about largely because after I linked Bronystories to an image I thought he would like he expressed interest in seeing a written treatment of the concept. I didn't say no, which is not the same as saying yes. Then as now my plate was a bit full. But I poked at it over a few weeks and came up with this.
This is... beyond. Even the liberated "audience of one" writing I did on "Bejeweled Love" does not compare. In some sense this is an expression of some kinks I never did before, not even in "Crystals and Diamonds" though I hasten to add I am not a hyper fan. I just know a lot of hyper fans and artists. Yes, Doug Winger included, 100% serious. I was trying to provide something unique and to perhaps pay some decent homage to Bronystories, whose hyper Futashy segment in "Odd Jobs 2" is THE best hyper sexual scene ever written and once more, I say that as 1) Not a fan of anal and 2) someone who hung around with folks who do hyper as a sole or primary fetish.
But when I say beyond I mean... I tried to keep the mood light, because, and I can't emphasize this enough, that's who I am (as illustration notice that even in dire situations Bad Apple keeps some humor and is only maudlin when it is 'safe' such as when he's in Luna's hold) but still... it's a bit more than folks are probably used to from me.)
Several Months Later...
Gilda grumbled as she waddled her way around her home. She had to waddle as a matter of practicality. The taut and swollen curve of her belly was hardly conducive to regular walking. She was miserable, for so many, many reasons.
Pregnancy had never been on her list of potentials. She was usually really good at avoiding it. Having a kid meant that her hard-partying days were over. She was too cool for kids, and way too active and tough to be caught up having one. The identity of the father... mother... sperm-producer for her child was also bugging her. The circumstances of the event were moot, she had been topped fair and square. It was a fairly brilliant plan, more than she had ever expected out of air-between-the-ears Pinkie Pie.
Besides the social aspects, the pure physical aspects of pregnancy bothered her. The aching joints, the tired back, the nausea, the headaches, the inability to go for more than an hour without hitting the bathroom, the swollen ankles, all four of them. She had even lost the ability to fly with her usual speed and power. She lumbered around in the air like a bumblebee, as graceless as she was on the ground. In all, it was pretty miserable.
That annoying tool, Pinkie, didn't care. She was as chipper as ever, practically crowing about the 'success' of her Pinkie Punishment. She had also said babies made folks smile. It was all smile, smile, smile, from the dick, to the semen to the pregnancy. Gilda didn't feel much like smiling, least of all because the only reason she knew how Pinkie was acting was that the annoying pink mare was over to bother her all the time.
“Where's Pinkie Pie? Here she is!” Pinkie popped out of nowhere, as she usually did, and threw some confetti at Gilda's rounded belly.
“As usual. Are you at least going to help me do some dishes or some shit? You did this to me, you've gotta take care of this because I'm waddling like a princesses-damned penguin,” Gilda snarled, scowling at Pinkie.
Pinkie scowled right back, an odd look for the normally cheerful mare. “Well that's not very cheerful! This was supposed to be a way to make you smile. I did everything right! Ridiculously giant penis, really, really big load of pony goo, and even a baby! Did pornos and romantic comedies lie to me about what makes folks happy?” Pinkie considered the question then dismissed the idea with a wave. “Nah! Couldn't be. I just need to try harder.”
“How about trying vacuuming? This place is a sty-hole... kinda on purpose...” Gilda groused, waddling her way towards the kitchen.
“I already do your laundry, shop for food, cook the food, eat the food, make the beds, unmake the beds and mop up giant puddles of cream! I do everything around here!” Pinkie cried, exasperated.
“Damn right you do!” Gilda snapped, digging around in the refrigerator for something to satisfy her weird food cravings.
“Why are you so upset? This pregnancy is so good for you! Your backside used to be tiny and tight and hard like a rock. But now with all that weird craving for food and me practically pushing cookies and cakes in your mouth, it's all soft!” Pinkie cried.
“Yeah, thanks a heap for turning me into the kind of fatass I used to make fun of,” Gilda snarked. “Now I'm gonna get the same thing. 'Hey! Hen-hips! Put down the chocolate next time!' Fuck, karma's a bitch...”
“But this is great. Now your bottom is all big and spank-y like Iron Will said! He can see the future!” Pinkie pulled out a rather large wooden paddle with the word 'koulu' painted on it. She smacked it repeatedly against Gilda's backside, nodding approvingly each time her pregnancy-fattened asscheeks wobbled under the blows.
“Ow! Hey! Cut it out! That stopped being cool the fifth time. I can still take it but now I'm getting sick of having to,” Gilda grumped, pulling out a big bowl of pickle-filled yogurt. To highlight that she was the punchline to the universe's perverse jokes, it was Greek yogurt. There was a note attached to the container which set Gilda to scowling even more.
'Dear Koulu Griffin,
Thought you might like this. It's my favorite brand of yogurt. It's the one I endorse! Got my face on the label and everything. You really should appreciate it, it's imported. Kinda gotta get endorsements out of the country. But it still counts because I'm getting paid!
Thanks again for letting me completely annihilate your ass. Pinkie Pie tells me your butt actually has expanded just right. Wish I could see that but I've got a speaking tour. Maybe I'll see it later.
Glad I didn't pass on destroying that ass,
Iron Will'
Pinkie must have slipped the carton in there, note included in a perverted attempt to be 'cheerful and kind.' Despite the origin of the yogurt, she was still hungry. Before she could bury her beaked face into the mingled pickles and yogurt, however, she dropped the bowl with a screech and grabbed at her belly. “O-oh shit...”
“What? What is it? Did you eat some bad pickles? I never should have put those kumquats in the pickle barrel,” Pinkie looked on Gilda with concern, reaching out to help her up as the griffiness went down.
“It's not that... it's time. This thing wants out of me now!” Gilda shouted.
“But... but... you're early!” Pinkie cried, leading Gilda along to the living room.
“Why do you think that is? It's an egg, you dorkus! I get to keep it warm for a few months. But first this shelled fucker has to get out of me. And it's not going to be easy...” Gilda flopped onto the couch and spread her legs with a groan, exposing her wet and dilated sex, the inside flesh flushed.
“What are you doing? How can you possibly think about giant-penised sex right now? You're laying an egg!” Pinkie got a look of realization on her face and approached Gilda, tenderly stroking over her bang feathers. “Did you not know it would be occupied? Did no one ever tell you about the birds and the ponies? You see, when a mommy and daddy love each other very, very much, or when a mare with a giant set of stallion parts happy-punishes a slightly drunken griffiness...”
“I know how my fucking cooch works! I'm not begging for you to fuck me, you'd scramble this thing! I'm doing this because there's no way I can make it to a hospital, a clinic or a henhouse. I have to deliver it right here!” Gilda cried out, shuddering and letting out another groan as a contraction jolted through her body.
“Oh! Right, labor,” Pinkie said, leaping away and returning wearing a party hat, a pig snout and a pig tail, a bunch of balloons in one hoof. “Come on out, eggy! I've got a laying day party all worked up for you!”
“My egg doesn't want a party; it's an egg! Just keep out of the way! I'll squat this stupid thing out myself,” Gilda insisted, pushing herself up the back of the couch, planting her talons on the cushion between her wide-spread rear legs, which were tensed as she stood up on her toes. Her tail lashed about behind her in a most annoyed fashion, while her pregnancy-distended belly seemed to quiver with every contraction that moved her egg.
“You at least need some encouragement. That's what the futafather of the baby is for. That and making gender pronouns and descriptions weird,” Pinkie said, vanishing for a moment and returning in leg warmers, a miniskirt and a tank top, with pompoms attached to the ends of her hooves. “Go, Gilda, go! Go, Gilda, go! Push him out, shove him out, way out!”
“You're way out...” Gilda mumbled before a loud cry made her throw her head back. She threw her forelegs out and grabbed the back of the couch with her talons, leaving her, as she had said, squatting. It was a proper posture, according to her mother. Just squat and let gravity, nature and the screaming, agonized muscles of your vagina take care of things. Her mother had been very bitter about having nine children.
“Oooh! Oooh! I can see it! I can see it!” Pinkie cried, halting her cheerleading activities and dropping down, her face practically mashed against Gilda's crotch. Indeed, a small bit of white was just visible within the spread walls of muscle, which were twitching rather freely.
“And I can feel it! This should be you! If you're so into shoving out brats then you do it,” Gilda hissed, going through a rhythmic series of seethes and huffs. Her talons lacerated the back of the couch each time she pushed, while her whole body slumped during periods of preparing for the next push.
“Well how would that work? Sure, I still have the fun place but how would it look for me to get pregnant with this big sheath and these huge balls?! I'd end up accidentally teabagging our baby as it left the womb and that's just rude. Try to think things through,” Pinkie scolded, before she pulled a throw pillow from the other side of the couch and stuck it directly under Gilda's widening sex.
The white of the egg was showing through more clearly, its true size coming through. For a moment, Pinkie hoped she was delivering the wide end first because it wasn't a very small egg by any estimation. The wide, calcified expanse spread the passage wider and wider, pushing out to Gilda's labia and forcing them to stretch even more than they had the night the egg had been conceived, which was really saying something.
Gilda ground her beak in frustration. It was really happening. She was laying an egg. A mare-sired egg. Her life had just gone completely off the rails. She let out a shriek as the widest point of the egg passed her outer lips. That made the end of the process much faster. Her desperately-squeezing muscles shoved on the smooth, tapering upper portion of the egg, practically spitting it out onto the pillow below her.
As soon as the egg hit the pillow, Gilda hit the couch, collapsing to the side and just slightly curling up. She brought the warmth of her body against the smooth, moist shell, groaning loudly. Her ordeal was over. The thing was laid. She'd need to keep it warm, of course, take it around, keep it safe. And then, all the mom duties. What a pain.
In spite of all the negative thoughts, one talon slowly reached out to stroke along the surface of the egg. It was still warm from being in her, and she could practically feel the chick within. It would be a pain. It had already been a pain, conception, pregnancy and laying, but this was still her egg. “Awesome...” she said, with the tiniest smile pulling the corners of her beak.
Pinkie's lips pressed lightly against Gilda's forehead, and her hoof stroked softly over the griffiness' head. “Now that was a doozy. I told you I could make you smile. You should always trust your Auntie Pinkie Pie.”
“More like daddy Pinkie Pie. Believe me, you're paying support. I'm gonna own your bank account,” Gilda said, quietly, smiling much more broadly. "But yea, this egg... this egg is worth smiling about.”
