A Zebra's Pen

Chapters

I - A walk in the woods
II - The Hounds of the Everfree
III - An Unfair Trial
IV - The Pit

I - A walk in the woods

The room was enveloped in an eerie blue glow as a liquid boiled away in a small cauldron placed at the center of the room.

A figure was leaning over it with both hooves on a spoon. She was stirring the cauldron, tracing the shape in large looping motions and chanting away in a strange but hypnotic language. Reaching down to pick up two phials from a short table near her, the zebra carefully scooped out some of the deep blue liquid and placed it into one of the empty phials. She did this with the second one, but unlike before inside this phial was the head of a beautiful white flower, it’s large open petals glittering with golden pollen. When the flower touched the potion it dissolved, turning the deep blue liquid clear and colourless. Swirling it around revealed that the golden pollen had remained, and was swimming through the liquid like hundreds of tiny stars.

The zebra stood up and balanced the two phials on her back before moving over to her guests, picking a third phial of orange liquid up in her teeth along the way. She stopped in front of the red stallion first, and dropped the orange phial in front of him.

“This will stop you sounding hoarse. Drink a little every day, for a successful course.” She then placed the other two phials in front of the yellow pegasus. Pointing her hoof at the blue liquid she said, “Taking this will change your voice to that Of Flutterguy. The deep sound will let you sing, so long as you still want to try.” She then moved her hoof onto the next phial. “Bathing in this one will bring you back to normal health, and will return you to your old self.”

Zecora then took a step back and addressed all of her guests, “Is that all that you require or is there something else that you desire?”

A white unicorn replied with a shake of her head. “No that’s quite all right dear. You’ve done more than we could have asked for by giving Big Mac a cure for his throat and giving Fluttershy a way of performing.”

Zecora smiled, nodded and watched in silence as the trio got ready to leave. The three guests all said their goodbyes before hurrying out of the door and rushing back towards Ponyville. The zebra sighed in relief as she had no need to rhyme, something she believed was an honour to her guests no matter how confusing it may be. “That should be all the visitors I get today, now I can spend the rest doing as I please.”

Trotting back to her workstation Zecora collected her ingredients and took them into the store. As the zebra walked down the stairs into the underground floor, she started listing the ingredients she had used and making sure she placed the leftovers back in the appropriate places.

“So that was; one head from the silversun flower, five stems from the poison joke, two mint leaves and three cloves of garlic...” She paused as she walked past an empty container. “That’s odd. I could have sworn that I still had some rocknuts left.” She sighed, “Looks like I need to make a trip into the Everfree. I should really start growing some of these things; it’s not as if I don’t have enough space down here.” She continued to look through the shelves and containers, noting anything that she was beginning to run out of.

After a few more minutes Zecora left the store room and walked back up the stairs. Taking a quick detour into her bedroom, she picked up her empty saddlebags, hanging them over her rump and fastening them tight against her fur. Placing the list into one of her bags, she trotted out of her house and continued down the main path, her hooves kicking up light clouds of dust behind her.

“Now where are those bitter Redstems…? Ah!” The zebra stopped when she came across a small group of flowers with bright red stems and glistening black petals. She picked a few of them, slowly easing each one out of the ground trying to keep the roots intact. She then placed them in her bags making sure to mark the flower off the list.

Zecora then delved deeper into the forest, moving off of the main path choosing to follow one of the smaller tracks of trampled ground, made by hundreds of hooves travelling through the same place. She slowed herself to a walk, listening to the sounds of the forest. The wind flowed through her mane, and rustled the trees, knocking a few leaves from their stems and carrying them away on its gentle breeze.

A sharp crack came from the brush behind her and all sound died.

Silence enveloped her as the wildlife chose to be silent and flee as quickly as possible. Slowly turning around, Zecora peered into the dark undergrowth trying to locate the source of the sound.

“Who goes there?” she called, hoping that whatever was behind the green wall of plants was friendly.

A growl broke her focus. Her eyes shrunk to pinpricks and she pawed at the ground, beginning to step away from the bush she was facing. The growl came again, slightly louder this time and Zecora whipped her head around the dark path trying to locate the source of the sound.

A red bolt of colour flew out of the undergrowth, landing on the path before her blood dripping from a carcass in its maw. She whimpered and jumped back hitting up against a tree. A drop of sweat ran down her muzzle as she pushed against the rough bark.

The mare was pulled out of her shock as she felt her stomach rumble. A slight blush creeping along her face, “It looks like I was mistaken.” She looked carefully at the animal that jumped onto the path. Its small body was covered in a soft red fur. Its small beady eyes stared back at the relaxing mare. Zecora laughed and addressing the fox she said, “You’re not the great beast I was expecting.”

As if it had been insulted by Zecora, the fox snapped its head away and strutted off into the Everfree to enjoy its newest meal in peace.

Taking a deep breath, Zecora calmed her nerves and reached into her bag to take out one of the flowers from earlier. Placing the head in her mouth she bit it clean off the stem and began chewing on it. The slightly bitter taste was soon replaced by the sweeter core as the flowers natural properties held back her hunger. Swallowing it she said, “That was more excitement than I wanted to have today.” She put the flower’s stem into her saddlebag and got back to her current task.

As she disappeared around a thick tree, a shadow jumped down from the forests canopy rolling as it hit the floor. Raising a clawed hand to its lips it let out a short but shrill whistle. A moment later a great black wolf leapt out of the trees, coming to a stop at the shadows feet.

The creature held its hand under the wolf's mouth. Looking the beast straight in the eyes it said

“Drop.”

The wolf did so, placing a mangled corpse in his master’s hand. The creature instantly threw it away and watched as the corpses red fur flew into the darkness of the forest.

Placing his clean hand onto the saddle, the creature hoisted himself onto the wolf, and with a snap of the reigns, bounded off into the gloomy plant life.

_*_*_*_*_*_

II - The Hounds of the Everfree

The muted beat of hooves on grass was swallowed by the rich sound of the Everfree. Zecora trotted along with a smile on her face and a bag full of supplies.

The zebra hummed to herself as she glanced along her list. “It would appear that I now only need to collect the rocknuts before I can head back to my hut.” Scanning the forest around her to get her bearings, she said “They aren’t too far away, if I recall correctly”

Following her memory, Zecora traversed the forest with the ease that came with regular travelling. She stopped when she arrived in front of a large boulder wrapped in thick gray vines that had forced their way out of the boulder’s core. The zebra’s goal was the nuts growing on these strange vines, which could thicken and congeal blood and other liquids, making them useful in catering and medical applications. Zecora had yet to discover how to plant the nuts as they seemed to grow from the middle of boulders and rocks. The nut itself was a small pebble like item, placed inside a gray shell with a dimpled surface and a seam running along the circumference.

She picked as many as she could from the vines before putting them into her bloated saddlebags. “That should be enough to last me for a good amount of time.” She tightened the bags to stop them from opening while she returned to her home.

Halfway through turning away from the rock, Zecora froze, her ears swivelling as they followed a distant sound. The rhythmic pounding of paws shaking the ground told her all she needed to know.

Taking off like an arrow, Zecora quickly reached her top speed and the forest began rushing by. The scenery was a blur but still Zecora skilfully avoided most of the undergrowth.

A vicious snarl came from her left and was followed by a booming howl that clawed at the zebra’s mind. A series of drawn howls came back in reply as they chased their target down.

Swerving to the right, Zecora crashed through a series of thorn bushes. Tilting her head down, she pushed through the thorns, wincing as they dug into her skin, leaving countless wounds as they were forcibly ripped out.

The hounds were closer now.

A howl to her left caused Zecora to veer right once more, but when a howl to her right joined it. She had no choice left but to go forward. Pushing herself to the limits of her speed, Zecora broke into a clearing. She tried to push even harder as she heard three more crashes as her pursuers followed her into the clearing.

A quick glance behind her revealed everything she feared was correct.

It was the Goblins, wolf riders to be specific. She had often heard stories of them laying waste to Zebrican villages. She had only ever met a group of goblins once, and it was not an experience she had wanted to repeat. The wolves they rode were huge beasts, bigger and more muscled than a normal wolf, with thick black fur covering its body and eyes that seemed to glow yellow in the dim lighting of the forest.

The goblins themselves were foul creatures; their rough skin tinged a sickly yellow, difficult to see through the thick layer of muck and dust accumulating on their bodies. Their pointed claws had collected a layer of grime under the nail and you could still see remnants of their last kill stuck on their teeth. The only thing they wore was a wolf's pelt fashioned into a loincloth, slick with grease.

The first one to speak was at the center and leading the other two. His ear had been chopped clean off, the wound left to fester and rot. “Looks like we’ve finally found the one boys, let’s grab her and get going.” He lightly flicked his reins, and with ease his great wolf bounded forward, gaining on the Zebra even though she was almost through the clearing.

With her chance of escape in sight, Zecora put every ounce of her strength into her legs. Her body’s endurance was beginning to leave her, having pushed herself for too long. The only thing keeping her going was the adrenaline coursing through her system.

Still Zecora managed to keep ahead of the earless goblin, and made it safely across the clearing. She was about to leap into the tree line, when an earthshaking snarl rumbled its way towards her, before a huge black shadow launched out of the forest, landing in front of the stunned Zebra.

Zecora tried to turn away from the new threat only to run into a wolf rider. She spun around and realised too late that she had been trapped, the four wolves slowly circling her. The goblins eyes never left her as they slowly stopped their mounts.

The earless goblin spoke up again, “Well you definitely made that more entertaining for us. Wouldn’t you agree, lads?”

The other two goblins chuckled but said nothing, their hands flexing over their scabbards.

“What is it you want from me?” Zecora said, her legs trembling and chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.

Earless spoke again, his words hitting Zecora like a whip, “That is not for you to know. You will be brought with us as a prisoner and there is nothing you can do to change this. You have struggled enough already, anything else and we may have to get more... forceful.” He motioned to the other two goblins with his hand and they sprung into action.

They dug their heels into their mounts and the wolves leapt forward, pinning the zebra underneath their combined weight. Zecora struggled like a fish after it had fallen out of a fisherman’s net onto the deck of his boat, while the two goblins worked on tying her up with a coarse old rope.

One of them struck her across the temple when she stopped him from tying her feet. This worked, and she stopped squirming. By the time they were finished the only thing Zecora could move were her eyes. They had even wrapped the rope around her muzzle to stop her talking. She was then lifted onto the back of the rider less wolf and fastened there.

“Let’s go meet the boss then shall we?” Earless cried as he rode off, the three other wolves on his trail.

_*_*_*_*_*_

III - An Unfair Trial

As Dawn sat upon her golden throne, she illuminated a group of four great wolves and their burdens. The wolves were loping along the field, each stride bringing them closer to the walled camp that stood before them.

Arriving at the goblin settlement bruised, battered and sore Zecora stared up at the huge gate before her. The group had travelled through the night and dark circles had formed under the goblins eyes. With a wave of his hand Earless spoke up, “Open the gates!”

The shadow of a sentry rose over the wall. Peering down at the group he said, “State your purpose Rider”

“We’re a hunting party sent out a few weeks ago to capture the Zebra who had crossed the border.”

“Wait there.” The sentry said, as he disappeared behind the wall. Moments later the gates opened, creaking as they swung out. “Take the Zebra straight to The White. He has been kept waiting long enough.”

With a wave of acknowledgement Earless led his group into the settlement and down the main street. The land behind the gate was an open area of grassland with a building placed either side of it. In the distance there were other groups of wolf riders leading charges against one another and taking part in mock battles.

Earless was riding with his eyes closed and arms stretched out. “It’s so damn good to be back” he said to the other two, who grunted their agreement. Earless looked back at them and chuckled before turning his eyes onto Zecora. “You know, I think the only downside to these two is that they never seem to speak.” The Zebra looked up at him, confusion evident on her face. “You want to know why they don’t speak?” A wicked grin split his cheek. “It’s because they angered The White”

As Earless said this, his two silent companions growled, their wolves responding in kind. Zecora shivered, and a cold sweat covered her body.

“Quiet!” Earless snapped at them, “You are the ones at fault and not him.”

They followed his orders almost immediately making no other noise but failing to remove their scowls. Calming their wolves by gently patting their necks, they continued on, closing in on the town ahead.

As the Wolves strolled in through the town’s edge, all traffic on the street moved aside, and each and every goblin bowed. The only exception being other riders who simply nodded their heads in greeting. Zecora stared wide eyed as each of the goblins showed their respects to the wolves and their masters. The only time she had ever seen such devotion was in her own village when the royal guard would march through the streets with the high priestess atop her carriage.

After the riders had moved past each of the pedestrians they rose back up and continued on with their previous tasks. Despite the settlement’s streets being crowded, there would always be a route for the riders to head down unimpeded.

They reached their destination before the sun had fully risen over the walls. Dismounting Earless and his muted followers led their wolves to the side of the building and hitched their reigns onto a hooked post. They then lifted Zecora from her mount and dumped her onto the floor before untying her legs. Grabbing the rope Earless dragged Zecora into the large building.

The door opened into a huge hall complete with a fire pit and a two semi-circular tables placed around it. At the far end of the hall on a granite throne sat The White, his huge white wolf sitting by his side as he looked at his visitors. “Welcome,” he said. His soft voice bouncing off the walls and easily reaching them. “Bring the Zebra to me.”

“Of course,” Earless replied as he walked Zecora up to the throne. When she didn’t bow Earless moved his hand above her head, ready to force it onto the floor.

“That won’t be necessary, Grimko.”

When he heard The White’s voice, Grimko froze and pulled his hand away, “I apologise my lord.”

“That is fine.” He directed a sharp look towards Zecora, “We need not force her into bowing to me, she will soon find her place herself”

Grimko chuckled. “Of course My Lord.”

The White continued to stare at Zecora, her striped coat beginning to darken with nervous sweat. He raised his clawed hand and brushed her cheek, which she shrugged off with a shake of her head, snorting her indignation. “Very well,” he said. “I suppose we should get down to business.”

Reaching down, The White pulled a scroll from beside his wolf and unfurled it. Looking at the Zebra he said, “I have reason to believe that your name is Zecora...”

The long pause made the zebra’s eyes shrink and she began to slowly shake. The goblins next word was drenched with venom as he hissed, “Priestess.”

Her breathing had become heavy. The stories she had been told of how goblins treated Zebra’s, while highly embellished, but were still no less terrifying than when she was a child. The tales of their misdeeds only grew when Priestesses were concerned.

How or when he found out didn’t matter. He did know and Zecora could do nothing but pray the tales were false.

“I have a great hate for priestesses. When I learned of your past, you ignited a burning desire within me for a retribution long since overdue.” He stood off his throne and grabbed Zecora’s muzzle, forcing her to look up into his dull eyes. “When you first crossed Our borders to reach your new home in Equestria you came with your brother and using him as a shield you plowed your way through our checkpoints. So many that it looks like you purposefully aimed for them. Each one you visited had every soldier and wolf rider slaughtered in such a speed that it prevented them for calling for help.”

The goblins arms bulged with power as he flung the zebra across the room. She landed headfirst into the center of the fire pit and under a cloud of ash. She collapsed, unconscious. The white sat back onto his Throne.

“It has taken me a great deal of time to find you Priestess. And now that I have I will break you.” He looked towards Grimko who was watching the scene unfold with glee. “Throw her into the swamp and leave her in there as preparation for the pit. I want her ready for the festivities in a week today.”

“Gladly” The earless goblin said as he dragged Zecora out by the long rope, leading her towards her sentence.

_*_*_*_*_

IV - The Pit

The zebra woke as a bucket of sticky, warm liquid was flung at her face, clinging to her once multi coloured coat, now dyed completely white in a pungent crust.

Zecora had no idea how long she had stayed in her new prison. She lay on a small island that lead into what she had heard the goblins call ‘The Swamp’, which from what she had learnt wasn’t too far from the truth.

When she had first been thrown into the swamp, it had been empty. Her captors had looped a strong iron collar round her neck, and attached a heavy chain to the bottom of it. The chain was then pulled through a metal hoop in the center of the room.

The swamp however, had not stayed empty for long. Soon after Grimko had threaded the chain through a hole in the wall the metallic grinding of gears pulled Zecora from her sleep in time to see a wave of white sludge crash into her and drag her under.

In shock she had inhaled some of the liquid, its sickly stench invading her lungs and causing a rush of heat through her body. She emerged from the water coughing and spluttering as the white sludge clung to every part of her body. Blinking it out of her eyes she tried and failed to spit the salty taste out of her mouth. As the liquid continued to pour into the room, Zecora tried to move onto the higher ground near the wall opposite the entrance. Taking a quick step forward she pushed through the sludge only for the chain holding her down to snap tight and pull her under once more.

She flailed her hooves around like a madman as she sought to right herself and push her way to the surface. Her head once again broke free of the sticky water to hear the sound of laughter from above her. Looking up she called out to the mocking voices, “What are you going to do with me? And what is all this liquid?”

The voice of Grimko answered her, “We are preparing you to take the leading role in an important event The White is preparing. This room is to cleanse you and ensure that you play your part correctly. This liquid is a blessing from us goblins and our beasts in hopes that you will finally understand your rightful place.”

He then left saying no more and the chain around Zecora’s neck loosened. The zebra hung her head and sat on her haunches as the pool finally stopped filling an inch below her muzzle. The mechanisms sung once more as the grates closed sealing the room from the outside world.

Two week had been and gone with little changing, She would be allowed onto the dry ground during the night to sleep before being woken and pulled back into the swamp the next morning. A piece of bread would be thrown down from above landing into the pool with a splash. By the time she found it the bread had almost always become a soggy mess. Originally she hadn’t eaten it, but after a week of refusing she had little choice but to eat it.

They never threw her water, when she had first asked for it; Grimko had laughed at her and simply said, ‘If you want a drink then drink, we’re not going to stop you.’ And so Zecora had been forced to drink the foul substance she had been soaking in for the past two weeks.

She laid there, the warm white liquid dripping onto her feet and oozing down her back. The door opened casting a square beam of light across the room as the earless goblin walked in, a key in his hand. He looked at Zecora and motioned towards him, “Come here.”

Zecora obeyed, shivering as she had to step into the sticky swamp. When she reached Grimko he leant over the Zebra’s head and pushed the key into the lock. With a twist of the key, the collar fell into the goblins hand and he placed it onto the floor. He then lifted a coil of rope off his shoulder, wrapping it round Zecora’s head and muzzle.

With a sharp tug of the rope he said, “Let’s get you hosed off and to the celebration Priestess.” His twisted take on her past title had little effect on the zebra as the mare was taken from the pool and led out of the stuffy building.

Zecora took a deep breath and exhaled, glad to leave the muggy stench of the swamp behind her. She continued to be led around the building to a small stable where three other goblins were waiting, buckets of water and sponges in hand. Grimko spoke to the other, “She needs to be prepared within the next half an hour. The White has decided to use her to start today’s festival. So, for your own sake, do not be late.” After he finished speaking he waited until each of them had nodded a confirmation and bowed to him as he left.

One of the goblins placed his bucket onto the floor and took hold of Zecora’s leash, pulling her into the stable before tying it to a corner post. Each one then grabbed their sponges and dunked them into the bucket. Squeezing out the excess water the goblins then proceeded to wash off the crusty grim that had turned her coat a yellowish white.

Zecora began breathing heavily through her bindings as the wet sponges caressed her body. The goblin’s swift but firm strokes rubbed away the remnants of the white swamp. The warm water was worked into her fur, softening it and giving the two colours a glossy finish that she would never normally have.

She felt a strong hand grip her hair keeping her still as another set of hand lifted her tail up. Zecora whinnied and shook her head, wincing as pain ran through her scalp. The zebra heard the ring of sharpening metal echo from behind her and she twitched as her tail was cut a few inches short of the base. The goblins then sponged down her nethers, which clenched as the water flowed along the black folds.

Zecora whimpered and what was left of her tail twitched. A heavy blush crept along her face and she closed her eyes in shame.

Her marehood, left a slippery mess, was winking as it expelled the water from within. The goblins continued, oblivious to the condition of the poor mare they were attacking, their sponges launching a ferocious assault on her parted lips. Grinding her hooves into the Ground, Zecora shook her head, determined to endure the injustices they were committing.

Five minutes later, they had finished, and Zecora was the cleanest she had ever been in her life. The goblins had worked their now filthy sponges into every crevice they could find, leaving no valley or cave unexplored by their plundering hands. Grimko who had returned a few minutes ago once again took Zecora’s leash and pulled her along to their next destination. As they progressed down the street, it slowly became increasingly crowded as more and more Goblins leered at the immaculate zebra walking past them.

Grimko lead her up a platform where the White sat on the ceremonial throne, made from the bones of the wolves that died long ago in the service of the previous White. The crowd roared to life as he stood up. With a slow wave of his hand he waited for silence, “Welcome one and all. Today, I have planned a celebration in honour of our recent conquests over the Zebra to the south.” The ground shook as the crowd once again roared in triumph, when he had quiet he continued, “In honour of our Great Wolf Riders, who form the backbone of our army, I have decided to sacrifice this Priestess to them to do with as they please, a reward for our nation’s valiant steeds.” The White smiled as he looked at Zecora who had frozen in place, eyes wide. He placed a hand on her cheek, slowly tracing his claw along her jaw, “there, there my dear. There is no need to be scared, they won’t kill you.” He looked at Grimko and nodded.

The earless goblin then grabbed Zecora and slung her over his shoulder, slowly descending into the pit, a deep but well lit hole located behind The Whites throne. As he walked towards the middle he was joined by other Goblins who were also carrying zebra in various ways. Zecora was still a slave to her shock, unable to drag herself out of the trance even when she was locked into the central stockade, only one of many.

Once all of the zebra had been locked into place the group of goblins climbed out of the pit, and joined the crowd peering over the edge. The White, who was casually stretched out on his throne, raised his arms and slammed his hands together, in an ear-splitting clap that told the pair of goblins that it was time, Leaning into the wheel, and pushing with all their worth began to turn it. The grating of metal echoed through the pit as a large portcullis was lifted from the ground, revealing the black chamber behind it.

Light breathing could be heard from inside and shortly after a small wolf strolled out and sniffed at the air before heading back inside. Moments later a horde of wolves stepped into the light, each one bigger than an average pony. At the head of the pack was a huge and muscled white wolf, its red eyes instantly targeting Zecora.

With a deep growl, it asserted its dominance and walked in front of the other wolves. The crowd watched in silence as the white wolf strode up to Zecora. She visibly stiffened as the wolf’s hot breath hit the back of her leg, its wet nose inches away from her parted folds. He took a long sniff before diving nose first into her passage, the wolf’s rough tongue tasting her juices as they began to slowly trickle out.

“Please don’t do this!” Zecora cried out, clenching her walls together, trying to force the intruder out. As the wolf pulled his muzzle out, Zecora could have sworn she heard him chuckle. Nothing happened for a few moments, the zebra’s body betraying her as the heat ran to her nethers and a strong musk leaked from her pores.

Suddenly a heavy weight threw itself on to Zecora’s back, knocking her breath away. Two thick white paws gripped her shoulders, pulling its muscled body into the zebra. It missed the mark a few times, poking Zecora’s soft rear with his hot tip, before finally piercing the target. His long throbbing shaft plunging balls deep into the zebra’s wet folds.

Zecora gasped and gritted her teeth; the sound of cheering reached her ears as the crowd above her celebrated. Turning to speak to his fellow goblins The White said, “And with that, let the festivities begin!” He then sat back on his throne a goblet of wine in his hand, watching in amusement as the Priestess was ravaged by his prized wolf, its unusual white fur and red eyes are what had given him the title of White.

Each violent thrust reached deep into Zecora’s tunnel sending shocks through her body. Her soft but toned butt had begun to bruise under the constant assault. What only lasted for five minutes felt like an eternity for the zebra. She felt each thrust as it pierced her tight passage and rammed the doors to her womb. Her face had become a deep crimson and her every breath came in a ragged gasp. Still she gritted her teeth and endured.

An unusually thick pressure was hitting her slit as the wolf began to reach his climax. The frequency of his thrusting was increasing and the strange pressure got larger. Soon the wolf howled in triumph as he forced the full length of his thick shaft into the zebra. The huge canine knot split Zecora’s lips and sealed the hot torrents of sperm that were being released inside her.

Her eyes watered as she tried to catch her breath. She could feel stomach expand as her womb completely overflowed with the wolf’s load.

With a wet pop the wolf pulled out and a river of watery sperm followed. The wolf looked at her sorry state with a glint in his eyes before moving onto his next victim. Immediately after Zecora was straddled by another wolf and he quickly continued from where the alpha left off, ravaging her sore backside. Another wolf bounded up to Zecora’s head and in a swift motion straddled her muzzle, shoving his canine tool into her face, forcing her to open her mouth and accommodate him. He then began to piston his hips into her mouth, his meat forcing its way deep into her throat causing the zebra to gag but being unable to vomit or remove the offending object.

The two wolves continued to skewer the zebra; working together they managed to alternate their thrusts, timing each entrance to follow the exit of the other. She felt the knot sink into her dark slit and the watery sperm flood into her womb once again; the one at her face however was still going strong. Lifting its leg up, the wolf twisted around to face away from Zecora, still joined by the large knot, and he nodded his head to a wolf waiting in line.

It jogged forward and climbed over the other wolf, lining its monstrous shaft up with Zecora’s asshole. Her eyes widened as she felt the tip poke at the tight entrance. Before she had time to prepare, the wolf rammed into her up to the hilt, stretching the zebra’s ring to its limit. Allowing Zecora a little time to adjust to his massive girth, the wolf slowly dragged his shaft out almost to the tip, before slamming it back in again. He repeated this, getting faster with each thrust.

The wolf at her rear and the wolf at her throat reached climax at the same time forcing their knots into her before flooding her stomach with their sperm. Zecora could feel her stomach expand, drawn down by the sheer volume of the liquids being forced into her. The three wolves all pulled out at the same time, and stepped back, looking at their work, lapping at the mixture of semen and Zecora’s juices flowing from her gaping holes, which winked as they tried but failed to close back up.

Her eyelids began to fall and darkness filled her vision, as the weight of another wolf climbed onto her abused form.

_*_*_*_*_*_