Chapter 1: Knocking Up a Musician Because Reasons

Canterlot was an awe inspiring city, pristine and elegant even under occupation. For all that some might speak of the barbaric nature of our new Caribou rulers they have not turned this magnificent city into rubble. Yes, their takeover may not have been peaceful, but it certainly did less damage than, say, the Changeling’s attempted invasion not so long ago.

I admired the shining Canterlot skyline from the balcony just outside the study on the top floor of my manor, watching the sun rise, entirely without the need of the guidance of Equestrians former ‘Princess’ Celestia. I wondered briefly what the well endowed ex-monarch was doing at this moment. Likely the same thing most of Equestria’s female population had been doing since the Caribou had taken over. I felt a small stab of jealousy over whomever was enjoying the land’s previous monarch this morning. Even before the invasion of the Caribou I’d had certain fantasies about Celestia. Then again, what stallion hadn’t?

Well, I had other means of satisfying myself. Ah, allow me briefly to introduce myself. My name is Gilded Cage. I am a… collector and preserver. Whether it be art or antiques, talents or curiosities, I find pleasure in the beautiful and unusual and have make it my life’s work to ensure such things are not lost to the world. I fund museums, act as a patron for artists and athletes alike, and commission expeditions from archeology to anthropology. There is nothing I find more distressing than the loss of something unique.

I suppose to some degree that means the loss of Equestrian culture should bother me. I’ve often questioned why it hasn’t, but perhaps that is because I find the Caribou a… fascinating people in their own right. Their culture differed so greatly from Equestrias it was intriguing to me as much as it was shocking. I adapted, as most at this point have, and while there are still aspects of the new regime that irk me I don’t hold a grudge over the Caribou’s way of doing things. It was simple bad luck on our part that the Caribou simply happened to be better equipped, trained, and were more aggressive than Equestrian was prepared to fight. That and apparently our ‘allies’ in the Crystal Empire fell without a fight before the ‘war’ even began. Were I a more curious sort I might question just how that happened, but no point crying over spilt milk, as they say.

I certainly am not complaining. The Caribou’s unique look on females and their role in society has afforded me some entertaining times and a greater amount of freedom to pursue new avenues to preserve certain things I otherwise could not.

It was in fact this very new venture that had me awake so early as to see the sunrise. My newest acquisition was arriving and I wanted to be fully awake and energetic to tackle the business at hand.

A soft, hesitant knock at the door to my study turned my head from the sight of the rising sun and I smiled, walking to my desk and sitting down in the plush, black leather chair before saying, “Come in.”

She was a mare of the earth pony tribe, her coat a rich, dark gray that was akin to wood smoke. Her shapely body was entirely unclad, leaving nothing to my imagination, and I took in the sight of her with a quickening pulse, already anticipating the work to come. Full hips were what I noticed first. Perfect for my intentions. Her breasts were thick and rounded, bouncing ever so slightly as she walked inside with a lowered head, pink nipples pointed due to the chill air blowing in from the balcony. She had a rich, dark mane, hanging well past her shoulders, well groomed and gleaming silkily in the morning light. I could imagine how smooth that mane would feel between my fingers.

She wore a black collar, and though I could not get a clear look at her face the way she had her head lowered, I could tell there were faint streaks of tears that had recently dried. I expected this, however. I’d researched this mare before I purchased her from her previous owner for a… well, a tidy sum, to say the least.

She stopped when she reached my desk, silent and keeping her head lowered. Good. Black collar or not, she knew proper etiquette and would not speak until spoken to. I did not consider myself as harsh a master as other men, but I still insisted upon certain protocols being followed. The law was the law, after all. I let her stand there for a moment, admiring her. Long, smooth legs, a tail as well groomed and full as her mane, a firm, rounded rear end… one and all Octavia Philharmonica was a beautiful creature who rivaled the sunrise outside. Of course she could not longer go by that name. Females were allowed no names aside those given to them by their masters, but I knew this mare from before the Fall. I admired her for more than just her physical beauty, and that was part of the reason she was here, part of why I’d gone through such trouble and paid so high a price to acquire her.

“Sit.” I said, a simple command.

Octavia started, hesitating a second as if my voice breaking the silence had been a slap, but to my pleasure she obeyed after only a hint of a defiant stiffening of her shoulders. She started to sit down in one of the chairs opposite my desk but I spoke sharply, “On the floor.”

Again that defiant second of stiff hesitance, but she still obeyed, sitting down on bent knees on the floor. A gorgeously meek sight, though I knew it in part to be false. That black collar was earned. Caribou law was simple in marking its females. Red collars were for females who wholeheartedly accepted their role and purpose in society, willingly and eagerly serving the sexual desires of their masters. Purple collars were… well an unfortunate side effect of the training many females endured from more zealous masters; their minds broken. I found the notion distasteful, but some of my “peers” enjoyed the childish babble and mental disability of the purple collars. Then there were the black collars, mares who, while still submitting the law, remained in some manner defiant of their role.

I had a taste for black collars, though that was neither here nor there. I had not purchased Octavia for the color of her collar, but for an entirely different reason.

“Have you been fed yet?” I asked casually, resting my hands on my chin as I leaned my elbows on my desk.

“No, I have not,” she replied, in a rich, cultured tone that made me smile. A part of me had feared that her experiences after the Fall may have broken her of that heart rending sexy tone of culture that had so enraptured me in the past. I was so taken by hearing that nostalgic voice I almost missed her error.

“No, I have not, what?” I asked in a firm tone.

Octavia’s lips pressed tightly together, her head still lowered, and I saw her inner battle as she shook, dragging the words from her throat as she said, “No, I have not… master.”

“Well, that won’t do,” I said, standing an reaching over to a bowl of fruit and vegetables that I had sitting on the left side of my desk, having anticipated this moment, and having carefully calculated my response, “If you are to perform as I desire you will need your strength. Here. Eat.”

I held the bowl out for her and she looked up at me finally, unbidden, but I let that slide. Her eyes were the same remarkably vivid shade of violet as I remembered, eyes I could spend all day staring at and not tire of them. Eyes that looked confused a she gazed at the bowl of fruit. Understandable. Mares were usually fed a bland, horrid gruel these days, high in nutrients, but low on taste. This may have been Octavia’s first chance at something akin to tasteful food since the Fall.

“Go on,” I said, voice still firm, “Eat as you will. Your master commands it.”

Hesitant Octavia took the bowl and stared at it for a moment before setting it on her lap and began to eat. I couldn’t help but let my smile widen at the sight. Even despite how starving she probably was and despite having not had a chance to eat real fruit and vegetables in some time Octavia acted with utmost composure as she ate. She daintily took one apple and carefully took a bite, clearly savoring the taste. I said nothing as I watched her for several minutes as she ate her fill. When she was done she carefully set the bowl aside and looked at me, not in the eye of course, but rather at my chest, quietly waiting.

I laughed, which seemed to surprise her. I shook my head, “You’re quite obedient, I’m amazed your collar remains black, honestly.”

A defiant flash entered her eyes, “I was given a black collar because I do not accept my so-called ‘role’. I never will. I am not an object. I do not care what is done to me. Write ‘slut’ and… and ‘cum dump’ on my body all you want. Whip me. R…rape me. I don’t care. I am not an object.”

I laughed again, “Yet you still know how to make things easier on yourself by behaving. No matter. I find defiance to be a delightful seasoning. You understand why I have purchased you, Octavia?”

She blinked, a moment of shock crossing her features. She clearly had not expected to be called by name. She took a moment to compose herself before saying, “I would assume to make me a toy, like all males seem to want these days.”

“That is part of it,” I admitted openly, and crossed around the desk towards her. I saw her tense up. I wondered if it was to simply endure what she imagined I was about to do to her, or to fight back or attempt escape. In many ways one would think I was being careless here. After all I was a weak bodied unicorn, a short stallion with a plain brown coat and neatly cut blond mane. I was not physically impressive. Whereas Octavia was an earth pony, and while a mere mare, she was in the peak of physical condition. She could potentially overpower me and make a run for it, or even try to kill me.

The danger inherent in that simply added to my excitement, but I was prepared for the possibility. I had had her escorted to my door by my manor’s guards, and she knew they waited outside. She might escape, or take my life, but she knew help was but a moment’s call away. More than that, she was in the center of Canterlot, one of the most heavily guarded city’s in Caribou controlled Equestria. What point would there be in attacking me, if only for a brief moment of transitory freedom?

No, I was betting on Octavia being an intelligent enough mare to know that escape was ultimately pointless.

She did not attack me or try to run as I walked up to her and knelt down. One hand stroked her cheek, rubbing down to her firm chin, cupping it. I turned her head towards me and I leaned forward. She didn’t resist as I kissed her, tasting her full lips, forcing my tongue into her mouth and exploring the warmth inside. She let out a choked, cute squeak, and I broke off the kiss before it became dull.

“Part of it, but not all. I will, of course, take my pleasure from your body. That is the way of things, now, Octavia,” my continuous use of her name was intentional, and I could see the impact it was having on her, making her flinch more than my kiss had, “However I can gain that pleasure from literally any other number of mares. I do not lack for money, and were it my desire I could fuck a dozen mares a day and have be a different dozen for each day of the week. I do not overly value sex, Octavia. Oh I enjoy the pleasure and entertainment, to be sure, but I have a grander design in mind for you and others like you.”

Octavia was now looking at me warily, as if expecting some horrible plot to be revealed. I couldn’t blame her. I’d seen many of the numerous forms of entertainment that had become common in Equestria since the Caribou had come into power. Sexual games and shows with toys and devices to defy imagination. I’d seen ten mares strung along a gigantic wheel like a sexual roulette, different stallions fucking them with each spin of the wheel. While such entertainments had a certain novelty, and I’d even participated in a few such shows for the fun of it, I had other plans for this mare. However her fears were understandable. I was a rich noble, in a world where restraint was unheard of and no boundaries were beyond the means of a determined male. I could only guess at what horrors she thought I was going to subject her to.

“W-what…what are you going to do to me?” she asked, trying to sound strong, but the tremble in her cultured tone was there.

“Octavia, I am a man who desires one thing; to preserve that which is beautiful and rare. In some cases that means keeping a valuable relic in a museum. But in the case of, say, talent, how can I preserve that?”

“Preserve talent?” she cocked her head, ears flicking. Such an adorable gesture I nearly lost control then and there. Her breasts were tantalizing close and despite myself I cupped one of them, causing her to flinch. I ran my hand over the breast’s smooth perfection, tweaking the nipple for a second, causing Octavia to softly grunt.

“Your musical skills and talent are incredible. Before the Fall I witnessed many of your performances. While the Caribou believe females serve no purpose other than to fulfill the sexual needs of males, I cannot entirely agree with that sentiment. Your music is a gift to the world, and one I would not have vanish simply because you must now accept a subservient role in society.”

Octavia now looked at me with wide eyes, her mouth gaping. Her voice became a gentle whisper, “I… are you saying I could… play again? You’d allow that?”

“If you please me. If you obey. If you do all that I ask, then, yes, Octavia Philharmonica, you will play your beautiful music again. However, there is more I require of you than merely using your talent.”

She looked at me with an ambivalent mix of fear, apprehension, and hope. I could tell the carrot I was dangling before her; the chance to be a musician again, was almost causing her physical pain with how much she desired it. Good. She was also terrified I was playing a cruel trick, or that the other horseshoe was about to drop. In a way it was, because I needed far more from her than merely her to play the cello once more.

“What I need from you, my dear Octavia, is to pass on your talent to the next generation.”

I saw confusion in her eyes as she pieced out the meaning of my words, and when she did her eyes widened and I saw her pulse quicken in her neck and her hands clenched in her lap.

“What do you mean by that?” she asked, and I didn’t feel the need to correct her into saying ‘master’. There would be plenty of time for that kind of training later. She probably knew what I intended but clearly needed it spelled out. So I did, placing a hand on her belly and giving it a playful rub.

“Simple, I need for you to bear a foal.”

Octavia sat stock still, starring at me. Then she shook her head, closing her eyes tightly.

“No. I’ll do whatever you wish, but I cannot do that. Don’t ask me.”

I frowned, “It is not a matter of asking.”

“I can’t do that,” said, for the first time raising her voice and losing a bit of her cultured composure, “I can’t bring a helpless life into this corrupt, twisted world! I can endure this wretched fate if need be, but I will not subject an innocent foal to this Equestria! If she were a filly, she’d be nothing but… but livestock, and where he a poor little colt he’d be forced to grow up indoctrinated and twisted into… into a monster like you!”

“A monster, am I?” I asked, sighing and standing, crossing my arms over my chest as I looked down on her, “You do realize that many, many other stallions would by this point be punishing you severely for this level of insolence?”

“I don’t care!” Octavia said, that fiery defiance flashing into her eyes again, making her all the more beautiful as she glared at me, “I will not bear a foal into this world! If you… if you force yourself on me, if you… impregnate me, I will do everything in my power to ensure that foal does not come to term! I swear it!”

I let out a heavy sigh, “A pointless threat. I am more than capable of ensure you bear the foal to term. Well, I suppose this is to be expected. You are a black collar, after all. By the way, how are you feeling?”

“Huh?” Octavia asked, looking bewildered for a moment as she swayed slightly. Her features began to turn red as her breathing quickened and she put a hand to her chest, right over her heart, “W…why am…what…?”

“Ah, allow me to explain,” I said as I leaned down behind her, pressing my back to hers and wrapping my hands around to start massaging her breasts, causing her to start moaning, “That fruit was laced with a few choice alchemic enhancements. One should weaken you, making this whole process easier and safer. The other is a combination aphrodisiac and fertility drug. It creates a quick, artificial heat. At this moment your body is rapidly entering an estrus significantly stronger than one you’d experience naturally.”

“You…bastard,” Octavia said, trying feebly to pull away from me but the drugs were doing their work well, her arms no stronger now than a young filly’s as I licked her neck slowly and continued to rub and press my hands into the subtle, plush tits of the mare.

“Continue to struggle as you see fit,” I said, reaching her left ear and nibbling at it, “I would expect nothing less from a mare of your quality. This is why I prefer black collars, truly. The reds are simply too weak willed for me to enjoy this, and as for purples… such a turn off.”

“Stop it. Stop it-aaaaahhh,” she moaned as one of my hands ceased rubbing her breasts and reached down to her marehood, my fingers rubbing along the lips, then spreading them dexterously as one finger slipped inside the already wet depths. Foreplay was an art lost to most in the modern, Caribou run Equestria, but I never ceased to take pleasure in the simple act of pushing a mare’s buttons, willing or not.

“Come now, my dear, this will not be such an unpleasant thing as you imagine. Our child will not want for anything, and even if it is born a filly I will never allow her to be sold to another. She will belong to me, just as you belong to me, my lovely Octavia.”

With one smooth motion I stood Octavia up, and she struggled against me as I bent her over my desk, pressing her sizable tits against the smooth, cold mahogany. She tried to push away from the desk, but I was still slowly pressing my fingers into her soaking pussy in a steady rhythm, and her cries were as much of pleasure as of protest as I sped up the pace. My other hand reached to her neck, gripping it gently and tilting her head to face me. She looked at me with confused, afraid, and tear filled eyes, her face twisted somewhere between a look of amorous pleasure and indignant anger.

“I…. won’t let you…” she tried to say between breathy, husky moans, and I silenced her with a rough, hard kiss. I shoved my tongue deep into her mouth, and for a second she tried to bite down, but I pushed into harder, and doubled the pace of my fingers sliding in and out of her dripping marehood. She forgot to bite down and screamed in pleasure despite our lips still being locked together and I felt her pussy’s walls clenched around my fingers. She’d just come, fairly hard. I grinned as I pulled away from the kiss, a line of saliva dripping between our tongues.

“Is this so horrible, Octavia? With any other stallion in Equestria you’d be nothing. With me, at least, I want you to enjoy this as much I as will. With me you’ll be a musician, and a mother, and our child will be among my most valued possessions. You will be among my most valued possessions.”

Her eyes managed to lose a bit of the hazy quality they’d gained under the drugs and glared at me, “I’ll still… ahhhh… still be a possession.”

“Yes,” I admitted plainly, giving her another kiss, yet this one the gentlest brush of my lips on hers, “But in this world there are far worse fates, no?”

Her defiance did not go away, but then again I didn’t expect it to. She hadn’t the strength to push me off with the drugs in her system, but she still wriggled about, and shook her head in denial of what was transpiring. However even as she struggled I could tell the drugs artificial estrus was having its intended effect. I felt her hips begin to grind into my plunging fingers and her breathing become easier as she let out another moan. I saw her tail hike up higher, and her back slightly arch.

“If you’re going to do it anyway, just… just get it over with,” she said in a breathless groan, managing to give me a heated glare that only made my own pulse quicken.

There is nothing more beautiful in this world than a defiant, angry mare’s eyes just before I mount her.

I needed no further prompting. The action up until now had certainly made me hard enough for the task. I removed my fingers, all four of them now, from her pussy and slid around behind her. As I unbuttoned my pants and took out my full erect length I admired the incredible sight before me. My straight, hard cock was framed by the gray valleys of Octavia’s perfectly plush, rounded ass, her tail hiked up and swayed to the side so I could clearly see her glistening pink marehood and puckered, round anus. I placed my hands firmly on Octavia’s hips and lined up my tip with her entrance. I felt her tense, and decided to not give her time to brace for this.

I plunged in hard, fast, and with a single thrust. Octavia cried out in the sweetest of voices, a lance of desire bursting from my heart as I heard her rich voice moan as my shaft pushed its way into her quivering, sticky pussy. I nearly knocked the tip against her cervix, a solid wall that tickled the tip of my cock. I licked my lips and enjoyed the sensation of being buried inside this gorgeous gray mare. She was breathing hard, leaning on her elbows. She was loose enough that I knew she’d been fucked no shortage of times before coming to me, but she had a certain muscular tightness that remained to her that told me just how fit Ocatavia was. Truly she was work of art; perfect.

“Are you prepared?” I asked, somewhat haughtily and with a hint of sarcasm.

“As if… you care…” she said between heavy breaths.

I just chuckled and began to thrust. Each bob of my hips brought with it a burst of pleasure that ran along the length of my shaft to the top of my spine. Every inch of Octavia’s pussy was shuddering and coiling around me, her moist depths feeling like I was inside a heated sponge perfectly sized for my cock. With each thrust I pressed deeper, my thighs slapping hard against Octavia’s ass and causing rolls across the pillow-like flesh. Unable to help myself I took one hand and grabbed her the right cheek of her ass, marveling at the softness as I kneaded into the flesh.

“Aaaah! Do…d-do you have to… to grope me like that!?” Octavia asked with a almost comical air of indignant annoyance.

“Of course!” I said with a laugh, “Yours is an ass sculpted for my hand!”

As if to emphasis my point I have her ass cheek a hard slap, loving the sharp sting in my palm and the loud smacking sound it made as it contacted her soft flesh. Octavia screamed, both pain and pleasure mixing together in her voice and she looked back at me with a hard glare. I loved that look. To see such a glare from a mare of such quality as I ploughed her pussy with rapid thrusts, this was bliss. The fact that her face was blushed to beat red and her voice was letting out heated moans only added to the thrill inside me.

“Could you n-noaaaaht…ugh, not say ‘ass’ at least!?” she asked, eyes flashing with anger.

“Not fond of swearing? Such a strange thing to focus on as I…” I leaned close across her back as I kept thrusting, increasing my tempo as I plunged my cock inside her and whispered into her ear, “fuck you pregnant.”

Octavia groaned, one part pure indignation, the other part pleasure as I felt her reaching another orgasm. I saw her bite her lower lip and shake her head as if in denial as she began to thrust backwards to mach my tempo, her marehood driving her to seek more pleasure as she neared her peak once more. I decided to help this by letting one of my hands slid down around her belly, fingers questing downward to find the top of her pussy, gently rubbing the erect nub of her clit.

Octavia issued forth a growing moan that turned almost into a growl as her pussy clenched and quivered around my cock and I felt a warm splash of wetness on my groin as she squirted, marecum flowing from her shaking pussy.

The extra lubricant only made it easier for me to start thrusting even harder, adjusting the angle of my thrusts to touch different parts of her inner walls with the tip of my cock. Octavia’s breaths were now ragged, mixed with her moans, and she was thrusting back into me still, her ass slapping hard against me legs and her tail flicking back and forth. I saw her eyes glaze over and her mouth was perpetually open now as she drew in breaths only to let out more moans and sharp screams of pleasure.

My those were some effective drugs. I made a mental note to send a 'thank you' fruit basket or something to the apothecary who provided them.

My thrusts were becoming somewhat haphazard as I felt the beginnings of my own climax building inside me. I was enjoying myself too much to bring this to an early end so I slowed my thrusting somewhat, letting my hands rove over Octavia's sweat slicked body. I was eager, yes, to shoot my load deep inside her waiting womb, but I wanted to take my time with this first rutting. Octavia was too delicious a subject not to explore fully. The drugs would last hours, so there was hardly any rush.

Slowly my hands felt around the soft curves of her back, and I felt her fine, lean muscles underneath her soft, pliant flesh. Every inch of her was remarkably in shape, firm yet supple. Her heaving, jiggling breasts were perfectly sized and utterly squeezable. Roving one hand on her back, still marveling at her toned form, I couldn't help my other hand wanting to go and grip one of her breasts, giving the tit a sold squeeze.

"Truly incredible. You're body could not be more suited to me if an artist had sculpted it to my specifications. How are you in such good shape?"

"Uggh...ahhh...I'm a...musician, mmm, I have to be... in shape! Gah will you stop that!? My nipples are not a faucet!"

She was referring to the way I was pinching and tweaking her nipple, one after another, left then right, between my thumb and forefinger. They were painfully erect and the tips were larger than I expected, "Not yet, perhaps, but in a few months they will be producing such fine milk. I'll have to taste test your milk thoroughly, I think, to make sure it's suitable for our foal."

Octavia growled and moaned at the same time, "You're... aah, perverse..."

"I'll take that as a compliment," I said as I reached my hands back to the curve of her ass once more, this time working my fingers across the soft slapping flesh until one of them was positioned just above her anus. Octavia let out a startled yelp as my thumb traced along the ridge of her other hole."

"W-what do you think you're doing!?" she shouted, looking back at me with wide, wild eyes.

"What?" I asked with a devilish smile, "I'm going to explore all of your body. Do you not think that includes this part?"

She frowned, breathing heavily, unable to raise herself high enough to push away from me with the drugs weakening her, "You can't impregnate me with that, so why bother!?"

"Because your mine. Every inch of you," I said and jammed my thumb into her anus an inch or two. Octavia screamed and shuddered, shaking her head in denial. I was thrusting slower now, to stave off my orgasm, but I sped up a bit now, taking my thumb out of her ass just long enough to run it over the dripping rivulets of Octavia's juices that were running down her thighs, lubing it up before raising it back to her ass. This time I wriggled my thumb in more slowly, feeling the tight, hot confines of this hole and the subtle differences between it and her pussy. Octavia's groans became ragged as I worked my thumb in and out in time with the thrusting of my cock inside her marehood. I could feel my cock through the thin wall of flesh separating anus and vagina, and I worked both cock and thumb in rapid circular motions.

Oh how Octavia shrieked, pain and pleasure, indignity and desire all mixing together in one long musical note from her throat.

That sound drove me over the edge. I felt a tickle at the base of my balls that indicated my own climax was soon to arrive, unstoppable now, and with a satisfied smile I cupped Octavia’s chin and turned her hazy eyes towards me.

“Octavia, it is time.”

“W-what?” she wasn’t incoherent, and her eyes regained their focus as she locked her gaze with mine. My smile must have said it all because her face went from merely blushing to glowing utterly red, “Oh.”

“Oh? That is all you can say?” I said with a hearty chuckle, pushing my cock into a faster and faster tempo as I felt the point of no return approaching, Octavia’s slick pussy irresistibly drawing me towards the finish, “You are about to conceive, and all you say is ‘Oh’?”

Octavia shuddered, her whole body, from the tip of her tail to the depths of her marehood. I felt her cervix with each thrust of my cock and it was as if the mare’s womb was opening up to me. I could feel the cervix opening as if to beg my cock for its seed, and the quiver the followed was as if the womb itself was shaking in anticipation. In contrast to this I saw Octavia grit her teeth and apparently summon up the last of her strength to try and pull away from me, “I…I…”

“Yes?” I asked, not relenting, plunging hard into her, the wet gurgling slaps of our flesh echoing through the room. My hands were now clamped firmly on her hips, keeping her from pulling away as I slammed into her, entering the final stretched.

“I… I’m…” Octavia’s voice was a husky, wavering with pleasure, but she still managed to fix me with one more defiant glare, “Never going to be yours!”

She lowered her head after that, and perhaps she cried, or perhaps it was just more shaking gasps of pleasure, I didn’t know, and in that moment didn’t care. I felt my climax arrive like the force of a gale wind, pleasure sweeping through me and rushing into my cock. I gave one last hard thrust, shoving every inch of myself into Octavia’s waiting pussy. The tip of my cock flared, clamping over the mare’s open cervix. Raw pleasure rushed through the shaft to the tip as my seed burst out in a long, thick stream that rushed right past the cervix and began to coat the interior of Octavia’s fertile womb. Wave after wave of pleasure assaulted my senses, and I grunted as I thrust again, and again, each thrust accompanied by another steaming jet of hot cum that splattered into Octavia’s womb.

After a straight minute my climax finally played out, white dripping cum flowing out of the cracks between my cock and the lips of Octavia’s pussy. I was filled with an immense sense of relief and satisfaction as I felt the last ropey bit of seed leave my cock and plant itself firmly inside the mare’s twitching pussy.

Slowly, watching it every inch of the way, I withdrew my cock from Octavia. She nearly collapsed off my desk, barely keeping her hold on its edges a she breathed heavily. Her gaping marehood was already drooling out a puddle of my cum, the thick white seed filling the room with its salty scent. I knelt down and with a satisfied grin said, “Let us take a look at our handiwork, shall we? Do stay still, my dear.”

Octavia remained silent except for a few soft moans as I spread her pussy’s lips and looked inside. Her tunnel was soaked with my cum, ropes of it spreading like sticky spiderwebs between her inner walls as I looked inside. Her gaping cervix was painted white, and beyond it could almost make out the pool of seed settling in her womb. Satisfied, I stood up and leaned over Octavia, wrapping my arms around her.

She was warm and slick with sweat, and I felt her breathing and rapid heartbeat in my chest. Kissing along her back, then up to her neck, I finally reached her lips and kissed her deeply. She didn’t resist. I then pulled away and looked into her eyes, which held a distant look. I slowly stroked her mane and the thick, silky strands felt truly amazing across my fingers, even better than I’d imagined.

“And with this, my beloved Octavia, you truly are mine. We will of course be doing this several more times today, every day until we are certain you have conceived. Fear not, you may be a possession, but you will be a treasured possession.”

“This isn’t…love…” she said, bitterness thick in her tired voice.

“I never claimed it was. But this is the world, now, and this is the best we can make of it. And perhaps in time you can at least learn to enjoy a gilded cage.”

Author's Note

Written purely because I have an impregnation fetish and for reasons beyond my own comprehension find Fall of Equestria to be an oddly fascinating setting despite its massive laundry list of issues. Yes I feel like a horrible person for writing this, but hey, a fetish is a fetish. This may get more chapters as the bizarre whim takes me, probably each one focusing on a new mare. Don't expect much plot. Well, not that kind of plot anyway.While this isn't meant to be canon with Fall, I'm open to any suggestions or ideas actual Fall fans have.