The Mane-iac's Triumph

Matter-horn drew in a long, slow breath through her mouth and released it through her nostrils, concentrating on her counting and her heartbeat. She was a professional superheroine. This was just another captivity situation to be resolved. It wasn't very worrisome... though it was quite thorough. She would have to give her grudging compliments to Mane-iac after trouncing her.

Her legs were attached to the ground, inside constricting metal tubes that reached to just above her hoof proper and were made with internal rings of flexible metal which custom adjusted to a size that was constricting but not harmful. Her artificial wings had been incapacitated by power draining and secure clamping, while her famously powerful horn was capped with a very clever phlebonium alloy that harmlessly nullified every energy type she tried to surge into it.

She was otherwise not restrained, though she felt very exposed, thanks to the careless, or simply perverse, henchstallions ripping the back off of her uniform. Not that much had happened on that front. She had been waiting there for a while, alone, attempting to work at her bonds and internally plotting how she could extricate herself from the situation after getting at least one hoof free.

Her concentration was broken, however, by the sound of the cylinder opening and the regular clopping of hooves entering. She turned her head to see what was going on and got a bit of a surprise. General contact tended to reveal that the minions of Mane-iac were white stallions with varied mane colors. This seemed to be a new crop of stallions. There were eight of them, one of each basic rainbow color, plus a black one, all of them earth stallions. She wasn't sure what their manes were like because all of them were wearing simple hoods in the colors of their coats.

The stallions came to stand in a semi-circle around Matter-horn, arranged in proper order from left to right, by her perspective, with the black stallion inside the ring and facing her. They were all very inscrutable, given their masked and silent nature. They were also quite disciplined, standing straight and still.

Matter-horn decided to break the ice and get to the proper monologing point. “Where's your boss? I don't deal with mere minions of Mane-iac, I want to- mmmmmmph!” Her speech was cut off with a kiss. The black stallion had rushed forward and pressed his lips to hers, through a small hole cut in the front of his hood.

Matter-horn twisted and writhed but could not escape him once he got a leg hooked around her neck. His natural earth pony strength was enhanced by the fact that he was very well-defined. 'Cut' was the term that she had heard Zapp say, when sexually responding to celebrities and suitors. The glossiness of his black coat made the streaming light play off of the various ridges and swells of his musculature.

The strength was even obvious in his kiss. He captured her lips with his own, pressing firmly enough to get a reaction but not enough to hurt. Further, his tongue wedged between Matter-horn's resisting lips and forced into her mouth. He shamelessly wormed his slippery, slimy muscle around against her clenched teeth, sliding around to reach side of her mouth. Her cheeks bulged as the substantial, squirming thing licked and probed around.

He traded saliva with her, much to her chagrin. She couldn't swallow it, not without looking weak, or feeling rather unsettled. She was forced to let it pool in her mouth and run from between their mashing lips. It ran down her chin, once he had angled her head up, and slid in a viscous cascade down her throat, do finally drip thickly off of her decorative necklace's lower point and spatter on the ground.

He wanted the whole thing, he could tell. He wanted her to open her mouth. She was unwilling to do it, but the strength of his tongue and a sudden jolt of energy against her horn's base made her jaw unclench just a bit. It was enough. The thick tongue darted into the space and forced her mouth open. She was very disinclined to clamp down again. She wasn't interested in tasting blood, or provoking a violent counter-reaction. She fought his tongue with hers, forcing against it, wrestling it, pushing it to try and shove it back into his mouth.

His tongue licked around the rear of her teeth and down against her throat with impunity. It flicked at her uvula and ground hard against her dainty, resisting tongue. In matters magical she was tops, which made her a great superheroine. In matters mental she was almost unmatched. In matters physical... she was still the skinny dweeb that the athletic mares called 'Twiggy' and the strong stallions ignored. Even with meat on her bones thanks to adult development and an exercise regimen she was still not a physical mare.

The deep, all-consuming tongue kiss came to an end with a loud, wet slurp, the stallion's head pulled back just enough to let his tongue be visible sliding from Matter-horn's mouth and back into his own. He released her head and stepped back into the midst of the other stallions. “You like working with multiple types of things, don't you? You've fired a whole lot of colors of beams at us during your attacks. It seems fair we get you back...”

“What do you mean by that?” Matter-horn asked, turning her head to watch the lead stallion trot around behind her. When no answer seemed forthcoming she turned back around and looked at the others. They had all stepped closer, making their physical menace even more tangible. What became even clearer was that all seven of them were, like their leader, well-constructed examples of pony masculinity. The red stallion on the farthest left was a slim, toned but no less muscular sprinter type, while the others grew increasingly large until she set eyes on the violet one on the right, who looked like a walking wall of flexing, nearly creaking, muscles.

Matter-horn trembled a little bit, casting her eyes at the intimidating collection of muscles. “H-ha! You don't worry me! When will you ever learn that crime doesn't pay? I'm only a moment away from finding away to extricate myself!”

“You'd have to get loose first,” One of the walking walls of meat said, in a voice that sounded like it was fighting to escape from a box of rocks. And right now only one part of your body that should be worried about getting loose.”

A moment of silence followed before a different, but similarly dopey, voice said, “We mean your pussy.”

“I'm not an idiot!” Matter-horn shouted. “I grasp the concept of innuendo. And no, leave off that bad joke. I hear it often enough when Zapp gets drunk.”

The rainbow of stallions stepped forward again, not hiding the fact that their shafts had dropped from their sheaths and were waving around in semi-firmness. They posed a bit, playing up the flex and shape of their muscles like the oiled-up models in the magazines Zapp hid under her bunk at HQ. Their coats were as glossy and soft-looking as their leader's had been, allowing the light to cast just the right kind of shadows to really emphasize their figures.

The red stallion approached ahead of the others, and silently reared up, hooking his hooves around a bar placed over Matter-horn's head, and getting his dropped cock in front of her face. A flex of his ass and abdominal muscles sent his hips forward and his pole up, tapping the tip on her nose and creating a surge of stiffness that brought the thing to full erection.

Matter-horn gasped loudly at the rude intrusion. The forced kiss had been dancing on the line of supervillain etiquette and propriety, but the very direct bop of a broad pony cockhead against her nose was no mere lapse in manners. “H-hey! You can't do that! There are just so many things wrong with this whole scenario!” She cried.

“She won't bite. Just use the feedback button on the cap to get her mouth open,” the black stallion said from behind Matter-horn. He had his head near her exposed sex, eyes peering at it. His hoof slowly came up to give it a soft rub, including a very firm grinding against her still-hooded clit. He was rewarded with a squeak of surprise and a repressed groan of frustrated pleasure.

“G-get away... stop...” Matter-horn began. She was not focused on what was before her, which resulted in her open mouth being speared by the bright red erection that had been looming before her. The thick crown settled past her teeth, and one of the stallion's hooves came around to hold her head in place. She was caught, mouth forced open just wide enough to permit the pole in, and the strong hoof on her head stopping her from pulling back or turning away.

The red stallion pressed his advantage and tested his leader's assurance, jerking his hips forward and shoving the fat tip of his throbbing length against the back of Matter-horn's throat. He ground the surface against the opening, working himself against it as though he intended to actually penetrate her throat. He didn't push on, but he did make sure that a few jets of precum splashed directly into the tunnel.

Matter-horn spluttered around the girthy invader as she tried to cough up the fluid that oozed unpleasantly down her throat. She gurgled loudly and shook her body, swaying side-to-side as she fought against the oral violation. Her tongue shoved against the red interloper, slipping and sliding over the warm, gently pulsing surface, her attempts to get it out little more than a means of directly stimulating the rod.

While Matter-horn was getting her mouth hammered the lead stallion was demonstrating his oral skills again, bringing his strong lips and agile tongue to bear against the helpless mare's sex. He lipped at the outer folds, pulling them open, flicking at them, brushing up and down along the edges. His tongue came in for extra force and stimulation, peeling the petals back further, dipping into the passage, and swirling a quick circuit of her honey pot.

With the initial stimulation and tease done he slopping slapped his tongue down, using it to slide down Matter-horn's hood, revealing her cit. A hot breath created a shudder and cock-muffled moan, while the strong squeeze of his lips and a quick grind of his tongue caused a squeak and greater struggle to escape. The licks and teases kept coming, however, the stimulation causing the pleasure bulb to grow good and engorged, despite Matter-horn's feelings on the matter.

Up front, the slow and steady stimulation served as contrast to the rapid and uncontrolled mouth-fucking. The red stallion was spitting precum freely, filling her mouth and making her gag all the more as it squirted right into her throat. He pumped his way through to a point where his rod was throbbing and he was starting to snort and nicker, but rather than unleash a load of cream into Matter-horn's mouth he quickly pulled out, broad head creating a loud 'pop.'

Matter-horn spit and gagged loudly, coughing and sucking in breath as she let the accumulated saliva and precum splatter on the floor. “You... you're not... Ah! Stop! Stop that! Th-this isn't right! This isn't how it's done!” She shouted. Her screaming was silenced by the quick insertion of the orange stallion's thick, quivering pole.

Much as with the red stallion there was a stiff thrust to the back of her mouth, almost a taking of possession of the maw. He held tight to the bar above and the back of her head, grinding the underside of his organ on her tongue and squirting his own precum at her uvula like it was a target.

The gagging, choking and angry grumbling did not seem to perturb the black stallion, who was taking his time with Matter-horn's folds. His careful licking and occasional rubbing had opened her sex up, and gotten it good and wet with her juice. He licked up the flows, letting them run down her thighs for a short way so he could savor her shiver. The long, erotic licks were seemingly new to her, as were the rather stiff flicks and lip-nibbles over her full and dark pink clit.

Matter-horn was used to multitasking, but her brain wasn't its usual quick, cool, computer-like machine of order and reason. Pleasure was not something in her usual collection of sensations. Never had been. It was suddenly filling her whole mind, vitiating her ability to focus on her complaints and her fight. The licking and rubbing from behind was so good, no matter how much she fought. And the repeated oral invasions, without climaxes, were actually fascinating.

She crossed her eyes and concentrated on the color of the male currently probing at her throat. He was blue. They had gone down the colors of the rainbow very quickly. Or perhaps her scrambled mind and lost focus only made it seem quick. She could have been there for hours, days, and she never would have known. But all of them, each increasingly girthy, increasingly muscular male, pumped at her mouth but never released inside. That wasn't normal for stallions.

She had seen... movies... when she had been at university. Stallions tended to be very focused on their climax. Yet here there was only a drive to reach the very edge of the peak and then nothing. The reason was mysterious, and mysteries very much intrigued her. Even in the middle of an assault on her mouth, and a forcible stimulation of her folds, she was intellectually interested in the unknown.

She thought hard about it, so hard she barely noticed that she had reached violet. The violet stallion was the beefiest of all, muscles bulging and giving him the appearance of being as wide as her was tall. The definition was almost frightening, and his musculature was quick nearly impossible. Even his neck bulged with power, his pectorals flexed as he pulled at the bad above or at her head. And every little move of his hips was marked by the shift and pull of several full and powerful muscles.

As the last of the of the rainbow stallions mounted, the black stallion changed up his routine. He had pulled away just before the last invasion of Matter-horn's mouth, but came forward again once she was gagged. He reared up and brought his strong figure down solidly on her back. His forelegs grasped her body solidly and he pulled himself forward, ramming his thick cockhead against her wet, readied sex.

The primed pussy was receptive to stimulation and already opened up a bit. Despite the squeezing of her snatch he drove the thick organ right in. She was no mach for the driving muscles of his hips, her intellectual's figure easy enough to mount. He rammed right down to the hilt, slapping her thin backside with his meaty force of his strong and solid thighs. His heavy pouch tapped at the backs of her legs, and did so each time he gave a shallow thrust, remaining as deep as possible in her.

The violet stallion, too, thrust deep. Unlike the previous six males, he was not content with just touching the entrance to Matter-horn's throat. He grunted sharply and forced the monster cockhead down into her gullet, creating a spluttering, choked gurgle of protest. She gagged and thrashed but couldn't stop it. The fat monster of meat plunged deep into her throat, bulging out the front of it as it went, giving a visual sign of how deep it was plunging.

Both the violet and black stallions rammed their powerful hips forward and yanked backwards, stuffing Matter-horn hard and deep from both ends. The violet one gave long, smooth strokes, pushing down and immediately pulling up, like the easy and mechanical stroke of a piston. The black stallion was more staggered, holding in for a moment then pulling back only to rapidly slap forward again, delivering that same spanking that he had been previously.

Even with the change in activity, the violet stallion was like his fellows. He did not climax. Once he had reached a point of groaning nearness he thrust all the way down, until matter-horn's face was in his crotch and her chin touched his testes, then he yanked back out again in a single, smooth motion, sending out a spray of saliva and a loud, desperate gasp from Matter-horn.

After coughing and sucking in breath for a moment Matter-horn addressed the stallion behind her. “This is... you can't! Get off of me, this is insanity. You're not even wearing protection...”

“I can make you forget all of that,” the still-thrusting stallion asserted.

“I-impossible... I can't just forget that you're violating every rule of proper heroine/villain interaction!” Matter-horn shouted.

“You care about all the rules and about how things work. The boss knows your real weakness,” The black stallion teased.

“Clearly it's this cap. It seems to... what's that?” Matter-horn asked, looking around on hearing several wet, non-rhythmic thumping sounds. She finally saw that the rainbow of stallions were slapping their lengths on their bellies, keeping erect and near their peak

“No... you want everything by the book. And the books says that when a heroine wears a mask... it never comes off, and never reveals her secret identity,” The stallion said, with a laugh.

As one, the seven stallions crowded in closer, standing in a tight semicircle, flank-to-flank. She were up on their rear legs, each one using a forehoof to stroke their precum-oozing lengths just inches from Matter-horn's face.

“N-no! No! Not my mask, you can't! You can't see-” Matter-horn tossed her head around, finding throbbing organs everywhere she looked. Her breath quickened and her eyes grew wider behind her goggles. Then the hooves came down, all of them. They grabbed the concealing mask and goggles and, showing off the great strength of the collection of jock stallions, ripped it away from the rest of the costume, baring Matter-horn's real face to the open air and to the collection of erections. “My mask! My identity!”

It was more than the rules, the prescribed order in the life of superpowered individuals. It was something deeper for her, more primal and raw. Some of her compatriots like Fili-second and Zapp didn't bother to hide their faces. They were proud of their deeds. She was proud too, but she had a separation. She had a life outside of being Matter-horn, her own secret identity. To have that stolen from her, ripped away by brutish minions with no respect for the rules of order... that was almost the worst part of the whole sordid event! They had taken away the separation between her normal life and her superheroine deeds.

The scream of dismay set off the masturbating, muscular herd, all of them giving staggered grunts or whinnies of pleasure as the rainbow of rods all squirted out thick blasts of pearlescent cum. The heated fluid splattered sloppily all over her exposed face, forcing her eyes closed. She shook her head to avoid the blasts but only succeeded in helping to coat her face more completely.

As promised, she didn't even notice the final stallion, who gave a final thrust and nickered loudly. His hips twitched and his balls drew up against his body, an eighth hot load landing in an entirely different part of Matter-horn's body. He held on tight for a moment, softly panting, before his hips went back to work, thumping against her hips again. She didn't raise a complaint over that. She was still mewling about her secret identity being revealed.

Mane-iac drew Hum Drum along from the scene, caressing his face and stroking her mane tendrils over her puffy, moistened sex, which showed through her tight costume. “Why aren't you more happy, Hum Drum? Frankly, I find this all very stimulating! Maybe I just haven't found your favorite. But I will...”