The HAS Group Invades Equestria

“Those fucking jerks…”

A biped pulled itself up from the snowy ground from where he had crashed down, the human brushing the snow off of his red Starfleet uniform. His hand went to his phasor, the tactical officer holding it out in front of him warily. The others may have wanted to bang ponies, his refusal the reason for his violent ejection from the ship, but not him.

Redshirt had eyes only for one, a human.

“Patlestia, guide me,” he mumbled, beginning to stumble through the snow. He had to find shelter, the harsh winter winds whipping his neatly combed brown hair into a mess unfit for the service of Starfleet.

On and on he trudged, black boot meeting winter snow, Redshirt never pausing for a break. Soon a snow storm began to develop, snowflakes falling like a Klingon bombardment.

His persistence paid off, a small town appearing in the distance. It was covered with a shimmering dome, the area inside appearing to be sunny and warm.

“Ponies,” Redshirt muttered under his breath. However, the town was his only option, Redshirt manning up and continuing his journey. The memory of Patlestia’s gigantic boobs drove him forwards, the will to survive growing stronger and stronger.

Just as icicles were beginning to form on the end of his noise, Redshirt stumbled through the barrier and onto a grassy field. Thanking sweet Spock that he hadn’t been eaten by a snow gribbly, he knelt down and kissed the grass, his bones already warming in the sunlight. Forgetting where he was, Redshirt lay down and relaxed. His legs ached from the walk, and the mix of exhaustion and warmth made him incredibly sleepy.

Before he knew it, he was out like a light. In his slumber, he missed the four-legged figures walk out of their crystalline homes and approach him.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know, but whatever it is it’s male.”

“How can you tell, sure it looks masculine, but it is an unknown creature.”

“Look at it’s crotch, those tight pants don’t hide much.”

Redshirt, having slowly started to wake up at the female voices, jolted awake when something prodded his ‘Fun Phaser’.

“What in the name of the Federation!” he cried, sitting upright to come face-to-face with ten ponies. All of them appeared to be female, and seemed to have shiny coats and manes. One of them, possessing a diamond coat, ruby mane and sapphire eyes, drew her hoof back from his groin and gazed in wonder.

“It can talk!” she exclaimed with wonder, another mare with a bronze coat giving a thoughtful hum while she examined Redshirt.

“It can,” she mused. “Does that mean we can fuck it?”

“...What?” Redshirt uttered, slowly getting to his feet and reaching for his phasor while the mares all debated whether he was suitable for their needs. He cursed under his breath when he realised that his phasor was not in it’s holder. ‘It must have fallen out in the snow!’

“Look girls, he’s tall!” Redshirt turned his attention back to the ponies, the females oohing and aahing at his height. Raising his hands, Redshirt began to back away carefully towards the edge of the dome.

“Okay, ponies, before you get the wrong idea, i’m not like those other humans you may have heard about. I already sort of have a girlfriend-”

“Tough luck,” the lead mare interrupted, a hungry look in her shining blue eyes. “I don’t know what the Princess was thinking when she ordered ten, young mares to live in a small village to test a new crystal heart, but what I do know is that i’ve gone for too long without a nice stallion. Unlike Equestria, we can’t all be into other girls.”

Redshirt started to panic when the ponies began to circle him, their eyes all locked on him with lust firmly on their minds.

“I get dibs first on his dick,” the Diamond coated one claimed.

“I get his mouth,” the bronze mare bagged, brushing her onyx mane out of her brown eyes.

“His claw… things!” two others called out, both seeming to be twins with pink coats, azure manes and golden eyes.

Redshirt did what any self-respecting Starfleet Ensign did when they had been sent out to die. He stood tall, proud, facing his tormentors to enact his primary goal.

He screamed, like a bitch.

“Ohmyfuckinggod, no!” he cried, turning tailing and bolting for the snowy wasteland. “Death is preferable to pony smex!”

Redshirt ran for his life and virginity, his arms and legs pumping like the fastest black athlete in the sprints. He blazed through the snow, desperate to find somewhere to hide. He was in luck, a snowy hill to his left.

Panting, he dived behind it and looked backwards, seeing no mares in pusuit.

“Jeez that was close,” he huffed, reaching a hand to his communicator. “This is Redshirt to the *sigh*, H.A.S Shagwag. Come in ClassyGeneral, I am in need of assistance.”

“This is ClassyGeneral, what is the-” a loud ruckus and squelching sound cut off the General.

“Oh my God, what the fuck is Happy doing to Big Mac!?” a panicked, southern voice cried out.

“Shamefur dispray! Not on my Command Bridge!”

“Hey Comrades, what is with all of the nois- Ohhh! I didn’t know that you could fit a chair leg in there!”

“Dropbear! Rectify this problem, immediately!” Classy ordered, a snigger coming from the ordered… thing.

“Talking about rectums-”

“No jokes! Redshirt, call back later!”

With a click the comms channel shut off, not even the cries of Big Mac remaining to keep him company.

“I’m all alone,” he muttered to himself, the gravity of the situation sinking in. He slumped back against the snowy hill, covering his head with his hands. “Alone…”

“Think again, handsome.” Redshirt whirled around, the voice of the diamond mare calling out. Slowly, ever so slowly, he looked up to find a set of blue eyes leering into his very soul. “Ahhh, I do love a good run before a rut.”

“Nope.” Redshirt tried to get up and run, but just as he got to his feet a stampede of hooves rounded the corner of the hill. The rest of the mares dived on him, tackling him to the ground despite his attempts to break free.

“Take him back to the base,” the leader ordered, Redshirt sticking a hand up into the air as ponies pulled and tugged.

“No! I’m not Kirk! Stop!”

His pleas went unheeded, his arm being pulled down under the mass of mares before they moved as a single mass, dragging him to the dome.

“Legego! Legego!” Redshirt tried to talk, but it was muffled by the jade hoof in his mouth. The mare smiled at him, the ponies dropping him onto the grassy field once again.

“Ladies,” leader mare spoke up. “The sooner we disrobe him, the sooner we can scratch our carnal itch-”

“Carn!?” Redshirt managed to spit out the hoof for a second. “KHAN!”

“No talking!” the jade mare ordered, before she stuck her hoof back in and made sure it wasn’t coming out.

“Indeed, less talk, more sex,” the ringleader demanded. “Remove his pants.”

Redshirt’s eyes bugged out, the pony twins tugging at his black uniform pants. His boots were quickly removed, followed by his Scotty socks. Next came the pants, leaving him in only his plain white y-fronts.

“Two pants?” The twins both asked incredulously, rollling there eyes at him. “Are you trying to make this difficult?”

“Yerrg, I yam!” he tried to speak, but the hoof stayed in firm.

“Oh for the sake of the Heart,” the leader of the pack huffed, clasping the edge of the undies in her mouth before yanking them off. Despite the warm sunlight, Redshirt shivered when his privates were exposed to the air. “See, it wasn’t that difficult?” she continued, spitting the broken undies out to the side.

“Is… is it broken?”

All of the mares crowded around, staring at the limp photon torpedo that Redshirt was packing. The jade mare leaned forward and prodded it with her nose, Redshirt trying to hold back a grunt while his ensignhood twitched.

“Do it again, everyone!” the leader ordered. The ponies moved forward as one, bumping their snouts against his junk. It slowly started to harden, after all, he may had been a redshirt and they ponies….

But he was a man, goddamn it!

The mares giggled, a few sticking out their tongues to lap at the rapidly hardening phallus. Redshirt shut his eyes and tried to think of happy thoughts, a warm mouth covering the tip of his dick while the licking continued.

With a plop, the hoof blocking his mouth came free, allowing him to yell for assistance.

“Help! Rap-”

His cries were cut off by a wet slit being pushed down upon his mouth, the jade mare cooing as she lay down on his chest and squirmed.

“Oh yeah,” she panted out, grinding her mound against him. “Go on, lick me like a snowcone.” Redshirt, unable to speak or move, stayed defiant and did nothing. The mare grunted with frustration, the leader raising her eyes up to stare at the situation. A wet plop sounded when she took her mouth off of Redshirt’s now hard tool, her hooves grabbing his balls and keading them.

“Lick her, or I squeeze them til they pop,” the leader threatened, starting to exert pressure upon the sack.

Not wanting his testicals to be annhilated into the Klingon sectors, Redshirt squeezed his eyes shut and licked. A shudder ran down both him and the jade mare, the pony he was servicing letting out a throaty moan of pleasure at his tongue.

‘Why the Hell does it taste like lime?’ he thought, trying to focus on anything to take his mind off the fact that he was being raped by ponies. He kept licking, the threat of squashed balls a great motivation.

“Now, where was I?” the leader mumbled with a grin, using her hoof to push away the other mares. The display of the jade mare moaning with bliss as she was eaten out caused all of the females present to fidget, the leader’s puffy pink pussy winking with anticipation. Grinning, the leader mounted Redshirt, propping her forelegs on the withers of the jade mare so that her sopping wet love tunnel was over Redshirt’s commander’s log.

Taking the time to properly line up, the leader lowered her hips down and sank halfway.

“The advantages of getting first dibs,” she groaned out, Redshirt completely freezing as she sank lower and lower. Her tight passage squeezed him all the way down until she hilted, the rest of the mares taking up other positions.

The jade mare, disappointed that the tongue had stopped, grunted and sat up, shoving her slit against his mouth again. The tongue began to move again, if only so he could continue breathing. The leader, her head back in bliss from the penetration, moved her forehooves to Redshirt’s chest before she began to bounce. She rode him, starting slow but gradually getting faster and faster.

Redshirt’s mind was so clouded with forced pleasure that he barely noticed the two twins sit themselves down on his hands, filling themselves with his fingers. Other mares rubbed themselves against his bar legs and arms, all eager for their turn.

“Oh yes, oh yes!” the leader moaned, her groin slapping against his as her pace increased. “Totally. Worth. The. Wait.” she panted, her face flustered as she felt pressure rise up.

“Nrggh!” the jade mare groaned through clenched teeth, a torrent of mare juices flowing out of her as she orgasumed. While Redshirt tried to spit out the marecum, the jade mare rolled onto her side and panted in her afterglow. Seeing the opening, the bronze mare removed her dripping cunt from his left arm and sat down on his face, grinding her lower lips against his face in order to encourage him to lick. The Jade mare was done for the time being, and lovingly embraced his head while she watched him orally service her friend.

“Cadence’s floppy titties!” the leader screamed out as she came on his dick, riding out her orgasim and drenching his cock with her fluids. Her clenching walls pushed Redshirt over the edge, his eyes closing as he felt his seed about to release.

‘Please, anyone,’ he thought. ‘Save me from this fate. My seed is only for Patlestia.’

Time seemed to slow, all sensations fading while a bright light filled Redshirt’s mind. Slowly, majestically, the manly form of Scotty appeared. Scotty had crumbs on his double chin and his hands raised like Jesus, a fatherly and warm gaze looking down at Redshirt.

“Redshirt, me son,” Scotty began, Redshirt mentally weeping tears of joy while he prepared to receive his wisdom. “I’mma here to save ye sorry arse, now listen closely-”

“Shining Armour’s a whore!”

Scotty’s advice was cut off when the leader mare screamed again, her walls clenching once more.

“It’s nah good!” Scotty began, fading away back into the darkness. “She canna take any more!”

“Fire the photon torpedos!” Redshirt grunted into the quivering pussy covering his mouth, his phaser cannon quivering as it shot spurt after spurt of hot Federation jizz into the awaiting womb of the leader mare. She moaned even louder, clenching her teeth and grinding her groin against his as she steadily filled with spunk.

It was over in seconds, the diamond mare panting with bliss while she rolled off of him. The bronze mare using his mouth shuddered and used her hoof to muffle a moan, her own orgasim happening. Redshirt coughed and spluttered when her body left his, the other mares abandoning his fingers and limbs.

“Is… is it over?” he wearily asked, breathing heavily while he gazed up at the sky. Two warm, wet tongues lapping at his softened cock caused alarms to ring in his head, more tongues joining in as they cleaned his fingers. The jade mare who was cuddling his head leaned over and forced her mouth over his, her tongue forcing its way inside of his mouth and tasting her own juices.

“Oh, it’s not over until we want it to be over,” the leader informed, resting on her side and watching as one of the twins climbed over the now-erect penis. “And let me tell you, we’re all going to want a turn, and i’ll definitely be coming back for seconds.”

Redshirt wailed a desperate cry into the bronze mare’s mouth, just before the first twin enveloped his Enterprise with her welcoming docking bay.

“Just look at them go, eh.”

Patlestia stared at the scene playing out on the viewing screen, the helpless Redshirt covered with a mass of horny pony mares. The sister of battle bit her lower lip, something about the fact that her not-so-secret admirer was currently being raped by a horde of crystal pony mares was just… incredibly hot.

“A soldier, fallen in battle,

His virginity,

Taken by a pony horde”

Classy downed another cup of sake, reaching for the bottle.

“That’s just hilarious, eh,” Patlestia commented, secretly admiring the General’s haiku skills.

“Hey, are we just going to stand here while our comrade is ravaged by those not loyal to El Presidente?” Classy and Patlestia turned, the half-changeling half-tropical dictator that was Dropbear standing behind them with his eyes glued to the screen and a smile on his face.

That same, unchanging smile that haunts the nightmares of Tropican rebels and changeling-haters alike.

“There is nothing we can do for him!” Classy explained, throwing down his sake cup in anger. It clattered against the metal floor, the geishas scrambling to pick it up and replace it.

“My friend, have faith in El Presidente,” Dropbear reassured, the hybrid reaching around behind him.

“For the last time, you are not a island ruler!” Classy yelled, standing up from his command throne and drawing his katana. The angry asian swayed on his feet, having consumed enough sake to intoxicate an entire high school. Dropbears face didn’t change.

It never does.

Shocking the drunk general and the turned-on Sister of Battle, the changeling hybrid pulled out a bright yellow super-soaker from behind his back.

“Rebel scum, get off my island!”

“We… are on a ship, my ship-” Classy began, before a blast of water mixed with lemon juice impacted his face. The katana dropped, Classy rubbing his eyes while they burned. “Trickery! A shamefur dispray!”

“Adieos, I have a Redshirt to save!” Dropbear farewelled, his super-secret changeling-presidente teleporting powers activating. In a flash of yellow, red and green he was gone, the Tropican national anthem playing in his wake.

“Shit just got serious, eh,” Patlestia observed, turning back to the screen to watch while Classy cursed Dropbear with all of his might.