Clop, Clop

Chapters

Changing Minds
Delicious Love
The Raiding Party
In the hall of the Diamond Dogs
Jelly and Cream
Post-coital Bliss

Changing Minds

“Come on. Time for the usual.” The dungeons of Canterlot were ill-used and more for show in the more peaceful days of the modern Principality, especially in the renewed Diarchy. Even so, there were occasional occupants. In the wake of the Changeling invasion, that included a captive member of the swarm. The worker had not been blown out of Canterlot and been easily captured. Now she languished in the dungeon, seldom seen, save by the white Pegasus that stood guard day and night. At first it had been a quiet tedium. Until he figured out certain advantages. “Come over here.”

The black, insect-like creature erupted in green fire, taking on the form of Sapphire Shores. “Seeeeeeeensational!” The green-eyed doppelganger smiled lewdly and licked her lips with a wink.

Thunder Crash tapped on the bars and shook his head. “None of that. That’s just disrespectful to everypony you imitate. I’ll not have you sullying the name of Sapphire Shores.”

“But you want her…” The Changeling teased, before flashing back into her normal shape, fluttering her hole filled wings and trotting slowly over to the bars.

“Never mind that. Come on, hoof through the bars.” Thunder was back from the bars, his dark-brown organ dropped and lightly slapping on his white belly. He slowly firmed, as he watched the changeling move around in her cell.

“Dirty, filthy pony.” The Changeling’s normal voice buzzed slightly, with a feminine undertone. She slowly leaned down and began to lick around one of the holes in her left foreleg. Her saliva-analogue fluid glistened invitingly in the low light of the dungeon. The hole looked to be one that went all the way through, with no broken edges, and was very wide. “You let yourself be touched by a disgusting monster.” She stuck the leg out through the bars, reaching almost to Thunder’s location.

“I live in a hole beneath Canterlot.” Thunder sat heavily on the ground, penis bobbing down to tap on the semi-rigid chitin of the Changeling’s leg. “I sleep here, eat here… everything here.” The warm, butter-smooth cocoa-brown skin slid along the waxy cuticle, sliding towards the glistening opening. “I guard one prisoner every second of the day. I think I might be insane.” His hooves grabbed the Changeling’s leg and brought it down, a loud, straining groan drawn from his mouth as the bulging crown of his organ slipped past top and bottom entrances with a wet pop, impaling his lightly-throbbing rod on the leg. “I don’t much care what the hay they think!”

The Changeling gasped with a buzzing squeak. Every inch of her cuticle was sensitive, like normal pony flesh. Even the inside of her holes was made of the waxy chitin and filled with the sensitive nerves. It was nothing like an actual sexual encounter. But it felt like a warm, gentle massage. She moved her leg slowly, up and down in synch with the gentle flexes of Thunder’s flanks, pushing his pole up and pulling it back down, sliding through the gap on a cushion of slick liquid. “I may be crazy too. I’m letting a pony touch me.”

Thunder was unhurried, setting the pace the nameless Changeling followed. He knew the schedules backwards and forwards. Nopony liked going down into the dungeon, especially into that particular section. He was relieved for taking care of hygienic tasks with some regularity, and ponies occasionally came in to feed himself and the Changeling. None were expected for a long while. That was why he felt free to do it. That was where his rational mind ended. He only wanted to savor the strange feeling of the waxy, slimy chitin around his organ. It almost felt like an addiction. But he didn’t stop because he was hooked. He did it because… it actually felt right. “Does this… feed you?”

“I need love to feed my powers and to grow stronger. Your pony food keeps me alive. But it would be like a unicorn being completely exhausted with no magic power left. You’d have to love me for me to get anything from it.” The Changeling was very even when talking about it. She performed her task with mechanical precision. She pumped her leg up and down, the sensation starting to fade away from pleasure. She was getting… used to the physical contact. No Changeling was normally used to such contact. Not in their natural form. It was normally under the thick blanket of disguise. Nopony was supposed to ever want to touch her chitinous flesh. Now this guard craved it.

“O-open! Open! Open!” A signal. His thrusting grew more erratic, despite how carefully he had been holding himself back. He just couldn’t get enough. But that just made him peak faster. His pole pulsed and spit thin strings of precum, lubricating the passage all the more. The leg pulled up and off with a slightly-struggled pop, and just in time. His crown flared as he gave a might cry, unleashing thick gushes of milky semen. The cry had been enough warning, the Changeling’s face right against the bars, mouth open wide. And as ever, his aim was true. Right into her mouth. And her jaw. And some on her face. It was a sloppy geyser. But it mostly got into her mouth.

As ever, she quickly scuttled off to tend to herself. She brought her head down between her own rear legs, showing remarkable flexibility, and buried her muzzle in against her own quasi-insectine sex, sloppily licking and grinding her face against it.

Thunder huffed softly, watching with his usual fascination. But on that day, a niggling thought tickled at the back of his head. He rolled onto his hooves and got up beside the bars. “Let me.”

All motion ceased, and the Changeling pulled her head up slowly from tending to herself. “What did you say?”

“Let me. You always do this but… I’ve got some time before they send somepony down here. Just let me.”

There was silence for a long while. Then she slowly trotted across the cell, wings buzzing in uncertainty. “Is this an elaborate trick?”

“To do what? I just want to finish you off, not steal your soul or something.” He winced a bit. “N-no, I mean…”

She was beside the bars at last, black flanks in his face. “I know. Prove you mean it.” She showed off her own external sex organs, which he had never really looked at. They seemed properly pony-like, though with odd fourfold symmetry, rather than simple bilateral symmetry. The peak of each fold held an engorged and exposed clitoris, and the whole was a pale, whitish color, with a very slight flush of green, probably the only visible sign of a Changeling blush. The whole thing was glistening with a kind of greenish-gold fluid that smelled vaguely of honey and roses. He leaned in with a slight tremble. The scent was inviting and the shape was… enough to draw his tongue in for a slow lick, dipping directly into the central meeting of the star-like folds. As somewhat expected, like honey and rosewater, cut with a subtle bitterness. “Wow. It tastes… good…”

The wings buzzed again, and the Changeling trembled. “Changeling honey… Workers convert some love into it and store it for the hive.” Her wings buzzed again, louder and more energetic as the tongue dipped into her depths. “It’s why we can eat! We can feed on honeyed love.” She pressed her rear end against the bars, wedging her rear between them as best she could manage, at the absolute limit of her freedom of motion.

Thunder pressed his face on against the slightly-cool legs, dipping his tongue deeply into the four-slit divot. There was warmth in there. In fact, it was warmer than the average pony. Changelings must run hot, to create a warmth within like that. His tongue trembled, stretched as far as possible, probing deep within what he presumed to be nothing more than a honey channel. Surely lesser Changelings weren’t allowed to do anything. “Mmmm, are you sure this feels like anything? Isn’t this just a place to produce honey?”

“No!” The Changeling smashed her legs against the bars, reaching back for that tongue. “Nnngh! Workers make honey out of their arousal! It channels desire away from what is forbidden! Only the queen can mate with the drones. If a worker mates with a drone they are killed. No worker may have children. They will not become a queen. But their children would not be loyal to the queen.” The engorged star pulsed with need, oozing more and more of the greenish-gold honey, demanding attention.

No tongue returned to the desperate passage, despite the obvious hunger of the owner. There was the clang of strong hooves slamming into the bars, vibrating the body of the Changeling that was so desperately mashed against them. Then something else jabbed into her, hard and fast, down to the medial ring. He was pressed flat against the bars, keeping as much distance as he could while still being able to thrust. “This is what you’ve wanted, isn’t it!? Who did you think you were fooling? I tasted something in you that couldn’t have been anything but… well, you know what it was. You’ve been trying to get yourself pregnant! Tell me why!”

There was a tremendous, echoing shriek from the Changeling as her alien-esque genitals were penetrated, for the first time in her life, by an actual sex organ. The honey-dripping folds pressed in around the cocoa flesh and drew upon it like a milking mouth; the external structures worked with muscular contractions and motions to caress the medial ring and stroke against the awkwardly pumping flesh. “I am free! Free from the swarm! I can have eggs if I want them.” Her front lowered, lifting her hindquarters just slightly. It was a foreign position. This was not how Changelings mated. This was how ponies mated. She was giving herself to a completely alien species.

Stallion brains were designed to work in only mode at a time. There was no room in there for any deep contemplation of how wrong it was for a pony to be offering his sperm to a love-eating, land-invading insect. A succubus in the real world. He could only note how great it felt. It beat an awkward, fumbling possibly-incorrect-insertion in a haystack on Nightmare Night with a mare he barely remembered. It beat everything, including the quick strokes that had first released tension, then kept the prisoner happy. Perhaps she had always been building to what was happening. The long game. The conclusion of the plan came as he flexed his hindquarters and let out a resounding whinny, head thown grandly to the side and making his helmet fall to the floor, his wings spreading out grandly in the traditional Pegasus display of complete pleasure.

It was… indescribable. For a worker, forever condemned to tend her own needs and to never mate on pain of death, to feel what mating was had seemed like a dream. Yet it was no dream, she was mating. With a pony. It was wrong; terribly wrong. But he… he was a drone to his queen, a guardian like the finest, strongest drones. He was a drone. He was mating her and it was right. And as the first gush of thick liquid surged into her, to mix with her honey, it came to her.

She would not die.

Canterlot Royal Guard Corps Inquest Report Summary, Casefile: 893F8A-C

Party in question: Miles Scutum Thunder Crash, Internal Palace Security, Celestian Corps, Dungeon Guard
Adjunct/Abettor: Changeling Prisoner (Reported alias during inquiry: Marianne)
Incident report: Prisoner found to be pregnant after several weeks of sole guardianship under the watch of the above-named party. Both the party in question and adjunct/abettor interviewed separately. Both refused to assign blame to either side or even to explain the circumstances of the situation.
Judgment: Above-named party formally Dishonorably Discharged
Addendum: By the grace and mercy of Her Majesty Princess Celestia the above-named party had their judgment commuted to Honorable Discharge and retention of pension on the condition of marriage to above-named adjunct/abettor.
Conclusion: Above-named party wedded to above-named adjunct/abettor; no criminal charges filed, by the grace and mercy of Her Majesty Princess Celestia. Both now under observation of the Noble Society’s department of Bio-Thaumaturgy to assess the outcome of crossbreeding with Changelings.
Case: Concluded

Delicious Love

Nighttime in Canterlot. The nightlife, on all terraces, was famous throughout all of Equestria, and the world, representing the trendiness and ideal of every strata of society. Even in the palace of the Royal Alicorn Sisters there were, now and then, some very interesting nighttime rituals, when there was the proper company.

Bad Apple stood nude in the bedchamber of Princess Luna, as he often did. His mane was perfect, and his body glistening with a sweetly scented oil that the princess had earlier lovingly rubbed into his coat.
“Know you mine adoration, but know you I am a jealous mare.” The oil, redolent of aromatic resins Bad Apple could scarcely identify, poured out of what could only be a genuine Hipposian amphora, flowing slowly over his bared chest. The most distant parts of the world, not merely Equestria, had probably contributed the fragrant ingredients that were, at that moment, tickling the stallion’s nose with their harmonious unity and teasing foreignness.

“You? Jealous? You have no reason to be. I am devoted to you. Completely.” He sprawled out on the sheet that lay on the floor, giving a small, soft shiver as Luna’s bare hooves pressed in against his exposed body. The tender press of her noblemare-soft frogs made the delicious press and rub all the more pleasurable. With careful turns and subtle pressure the oil was worked into the fur of the stallion, sliding down against his skin. It was worked in deep and well, no mere surface coating easily wiped away.

“Aye, so you are. Yet do I feel a flush of anger should any other mare touch your form.” More oil poured out, making a drizzling trail down Bad Apple’s tight belly and steadily-plumping maleness. Luna’s hooves were deft and precise, working the oil into his belly and sheath, but never going past the lip of the protective covering. The velvet-soft tube shone in the brazier’s low light. “This be mine. I alone may contact this precious spire. Let the mares of the palace health baths pine and whine that they may not be thus in contact. Shall you only ever be massaged by me.” Bad Apple bit at his lower lip and groaned loudly at the almost impossibly-teasing and torturous grinding against the flesh resting within the sheath, which completely ignored every single centimeter that had emerged.

“N-no objection here! I promise you, no mare will ever touch me. I am only yours, forever.” The massage moved away, but the tease remained, his organ raging in anticipation. The oil slid over him with a ticklish touch, only to be gingerly massaged into the warm body. It almost faded into nothing, as all he could think of was the desire, raised and pulsing and needing further attention. He looked up suddenly, seeing Luna walking away.

“Await me, my love. I reward your devotion anon…”

He felt like a luxurious, pampered baked potato minus the foil. But that was his lover. It DID make him look good, the caramel coat glistening like an actual sauce. Not that he had never been covered in caramel sauce before but…

“Behold. Your sup this night.” Princess Luna did not tread the ground of her chamber. She hovered, with slow, elegant flaps of her wings. She was clothed in a beautiful reproduction of her usual archaic attire: a red dress open at the front to show a black bodice and green petticoat, all cinched loosely at the middle with a red corset. Both legs were sensuously hugged with red stockings ending in clear, heeled shoes. On her head rested a clear tiara inset with colorful gems. It was all beautiful, and not a stitch of it cloth. All the material was pureed, pressed, extruded and sealed fruit and vegetable matter: The dress pepper and tomato, the corset as well, bodice licorice, petticoat spinach and green pepper, stockings made of strawberry and raspberry fruit leather. The shoes and tiara made of rock candy carved and polished to perfection, the gems set in the tiara flavored and colored sugar.

“Oh… my… you…” The conman-quick tongue failed. Bad Apple’s eyes grew wide and appropriately hungry at the sight of Luna’s attire. He had heard of edible clothing before, and sometimes thought of broaching the subject for a laugh. Leave it to his lover to do it first and completely overboard. “How did you make that?”

“The kitchen pensionaries were salaried well, first for work and again for silence; I did design the clothing and craft it. Likewise did I sculpt sugar crystals. Each seal and carving be my love made real. Do I entice you? A meal you may savor…”

“You have always known how to make my mouth water. I’m lucky I don’t drool when I see you just in the halls. But this… oh my dear that delicious attire. It almost seems a shame to destroy it.” The stallion licked his lips and devoured the vision of perfection with starving eyes.

Luna slowly waved her lashes in a luscious, lascivious motion, tongue slowly crossing over her lips. “Devour me…” The voice was commanding, inflexible. No doubt or uncertainty about it at all. While it was a stern demand, her face was soft and adoring. “Devour me, corpus and clothing. Let not a candied stitch of sweetened raiment scape your gorging maw. And when you are finished, shall I devour you…”

“Supper is served.” Bad Apple approached with a measured eagerness, limbs trembling in his desire to run like an idiot over to the presented feast.

“Halt.” The whisper was infused with the power behind the Royal Canterlot Voice, a firm edge ringing through the mild statement. One hoof slowly lifted and then pointed to him. “Down.” She approached, walking on air as he obeyed, sitting on his haunches, letting his unashamed erection bob and slap almost comically on his oiled belly. Her sugar-shod hoof dipped down to slide along the tri-colored flesh, from dark brown at the base, pink in the midsection, and the often-mentioned angry aubergine of the top, especially the crown. The shoe had been polished and buffed to silky perfection, the teasing trace sufficient to make the stallion moan. “You shall serve as your sup is served. Consume sufficient that my tire falls. Fear not destruction or ruination. It be mere dross beside the milk and honey beneath.”

Bad Apple did not respond with words, but the dip of his head. His tongue stretched out slowly, tapping down on the shoe. Sweet. And clean. Not a single fraction had touched anything but Luna’s hooves. Her hooves, in fact, still faintly smelled of the sweet resins from the oil, adding an exotic spice to the bare sugar. He dragged his tongue along the surface, over the top and beneath, even over the long, broad-bottomed heel. He sucked gently on the heel, like a lollipop, lips pulling on it. Suddenly his teeth came to bear, taking a grip on the heel and pulling, deftly yanking the shoe off and tossing it away with a flick of his neck. As it shattered against the floor he gave a cheeky smile while his head remained obediently down turned.

“My servant be most obstreperous, even in silence. You make a great noise with just a single shoe. I, too, may make a great noise, greater than you.” Luna’s horn flared suddenly and her three other shoes shattered with an amplified tinkling, the shards of sugar bouncing off of a dark purple shield that had sprung up around Bad Apple. “Presume not to be grander than me.” The smile was matched, perfectly, by Luna, all cheek and winking, spoken by the twinkling in her eyes.

Bad Apple opened his mouth and brought those teeth back down in a sudden, firm bite. They clacked onto Luna’s rigid, keratinized hoof and started to slowly scrape over it. Her enchanted hoof was completely unscathed, but the fruit leather was pulled along, with the assistance of his lips. It not only smelled of the scented oil, he could tastes the barest hint of it. It had spread onto the fruit leather, adding a subtly-bitter bite to the sweetened dried puree. The dried fruit slid smoothly down her leg and into the hungry maw of the caramel stallion. He masticated noisily and with just a touch of drool reaching his lips. Once the entire edible stocking had been consumed he slowly licked over the hoof before him and then gave it a kiss. Redolent of perfume and the last, lingering traces of strawberry and raspberry. “Delicious. Shall I eat another?”

Princess Luna hmphed and looked piqued. “Shall you eat another? Shall an insolent stocking satiate your hunger and fan your lust? Nay! Let no bit of fruit be the stoker of your aubergine!” Luna’s horn flared again, the other three stockings tearing to shreds and falling to the floor.

Both of his hooves came up to take Luna’s, in a gentle and loving grip. His lips met the rigid top of the hood, holding for a long moment. He parted from it with the soft sound of a kiss ending, a sound that seemed to transcend the traditional description of ‘smack’ with the tenderness inherent in it. His further kisses trailed down, over the lip of the hoof and to the underside. He planted sweet kisses on her frog, still oily and fragrant from the earlier anointing. The olive oil flavor was overpowered by the bitter taste of the herbs and resin. It was for smelling, not tasting. And yet, with the love he felt, it was nothing but palatable.

Bad Apple kissed his way back to the top and licked up the hoof and leg, kissing now and then as he moved towards her chest. “Mmm, such jealousy. Such passion. Well… you did say you are a jealous lover. I like it. It’s good for my ego.” With all his dexterous capabilities he slid himself beneath Luna and bit down hard on the consumable strings of the corset, as well as the material beneath. He bit down as hard as he could and tore away, leaving a gaping hole in the attire and exposing Luna’s purple body. The combined flavor… so strange, yet so delightful. The pepper and tomato corset mingling strangely with the licorice bodice. In any other context, a monstrous mismatch. But down on the floor, by his lover’s gentle command, stripping her bare with his eating… it was a gourmet treat that could in no wise be surpassed, so far as he thought in that moment. He smiled as the corset, unstrung, opened up with an appropriately-dramatic flutter. “Well now… that was a good one. Not just the corset, I got the bodice too. I always wanted to be in one of those Harlequine bodice-rippers.”

“Aye, aye, sir sauce!” Luna reared up grandly, wings spread, back arched to allow her corset and the open-fronted dress to slide off and fall to the ground with a soft thump, leaving only the petticoat and mostly-laced bodice. “Take not overmuch pleasure in that bite. You have still more that you must consume. Gobble well.”

“I think… that’s not quite true…” He dropped lower, taking the bottom of the petticoat in his mouth and nibbling upwards, eating a trail through the attire like a hungry termite through a log. Spinach, prepared in the right way, was a treat anypony would eagerly consume. Healthful and excellent for encouraging the vigor of the body. Combined with green pepper, which moderated both color and flavor, it was beyond wonderful. Or perhaps it was the form and place. Up her legs, towards the pinnacle of her limbs, the promised place of musky honey beneath her teats.

Right as he arrived at the juncture of her rear legs he rushed under the eaten skirt and pressed his face up against her bare sex, lips working the plump folds. “All the covering in Equestria doesn’t hide the fact that I knew you’d leave this off. Looks like I found the main course.” The fall of the petticoat had left its mark thanks to the working of biology. She had been fantasizing and anticipating, making herself sticky with her arousal, which had served to dissolve some of the petticoat that had fallen against the folds. The flavor did not last long under the almost warlike lapping, but its mere presence, something new in something so familiar and loved, made that licking and slurping all the more eager and uncontrolled.

“Ah! Wicked, wicked cad! To so basely and nakedly attack the tackle of an innocent maid! And all sans bait!” Luna squirmed lightly on her rear hooves. She had been expecting it, in the abstract, but hardly so quickly. Her plumped folds squished ever so slightly against his mouth, while the slight motion of her body pressed her rounded teats against his face. She would be a fine feeder of pedigrees, as she had often said. According to the bawdy magazines, she was in a rarified atmosphere, of mares with naturally large and heavy teats. They had never been a point of pride; merely a curiosity. With a lover who could adore them, they were a point of ego.

“Thank… you that I don’t wear glasses…” Bad Apple mumbled his comment into the warm, pouting lips, pressing his face in harder, grinding the swollen bulbs of the teats against his eyes, the nipples actually poking a little bit. The change in position left him not so much eating the juicy folds but more lipping at the bottom and stretching his tongue out to lick and tickle between the spread-out lips.

“NGH! Ah! I-insolent… insu-sufferable… goatish-blooded FIRKER!” Luna’s bare hooves came down and held tightly to Bad Apple’s head, dragging him physically up and down, to grind his face against her teats and his mouth against the warm, exposed pearl of her clitoral bulge. “Be nourished of me. Guzzle you mine honeydew and work your eely member with all the quickness your mountebank skill has trained that I may give you, my servant, your earned desert!”

Bad Apple’s tongue was demonstrating its true flexibility in that moment. Even as he was dragged up and down to add extra stimulation to Luna’s fully engorged nipples and very well-sized teats, he still managed to hold his tongue flat and solid against the moaning alicorn’s button while the furthest part was angled back inward, dipping into the place that produced her musky nectar. “Nourish me, my love…” His tongue dipped down, to focus hard, wet flicks on the nub of her pleasure. “Your not-at-all-humble servant is famished.”

The trembling night goddess suddenly stood tall on her hind legs, kicking her forelegs in pleasure and flaring her wings out grandly. She unleashed a shriek amplified by the auspices of the Royal Canterlot Voice, which rang around the magically-muffled room. Not a soul outside could hear the princess strike the climax of her pleasure, but within her servitor was quite capable of hearing the cry of which he was the author.

Bad Apple was no fool, and no lazy lout. He scooted and twisted between Luna’s spread legs, clapping his mouth around her thick, warm sex, tongue driving in as deep and hard as he could manage, to work and coax her through her orgasm, and to catch as much of the delicious dew he could get out of the clutching, trembling, milking passage. It would probably feel like heaven to be in there. But, he was a wise stallion. He had all night.

The Royal Canterlot orgasmic scream slowly faded down into a low, pleasured groan, that finally faded down into a soft, gentle panting. Her horn glowed lightly and the rest of her attire tore slowly off of her body, falling to the floor with a gentle thud. “Ah, my servant. ‘Twas a most meet treatment. As ever, you have served to the fullness of your inches, and given great credit to the strength of your back.” Luna dropped down onto her hooves, which wobbled just a touch from the lingering effects of climax and the small shocks of pleasure coming from Bad Apple’s tongue continuing to writhe within her.

The probing and twisting muscle flicked and poked about within Luna’s warm passage, to get up the last of her flowing juice. Once the supply was largely exhausted his lips pulled away with a soft pop and his tongue slowly snaked out with as much twisting and slithering as possible. “My love, you know me. I back you just as much as possible. I know you love the strength of my back, but yours is firm as anything. It bears up well.” Bad Apple’s eyes were shining with tremendous mirth, expressing all the gleeful bawdiness that his broad smile could not fully display.

Luna let out a laugh, loud, long and unashamed. She had taught her lover well, in all the arts of proper bawdiness and lewd behavior of her own time. He was a dangerous one, how fast he learned. Such a pleasure to find. “I do wonder how your face remains when it seems be naught but cheek. Cheek, tongue, back and aubergine be the sum total of you, and you are ever greater than the sum of all you are.”

With a last lick of his lips, Bad Apple was clean and presentable once more, a soft rumble going through his throat, his eyes closed as he savored the last, lingering taste of Luna’s musk on his tongue. “Ahh, yes… That will serve me for a good while. Hopefully not too long. I don’t want to test how long I can savor the memory of your taste. Oh don’t get me wrong, I can remember you for a good, long time and it’s just as strong every time. But you know I love it fresh, flowing and flooding down my throat, and you always give it freely and-”

All of a sudden he was flat on his back, a soft grunt emerging from his mouth before he was smothered by a deep, hard, all-consuming kiss, a tongue dancing around freely in his mouth, tickling almost to the back of his throat. The kiss ended with a wet smack, the tongue drawn out into Luna’s grinning maw. Without a word she slid down her stallion’s reclined body, ending up facing down the slightly-pulsing and precum-glistening organ, her horn summoning up… a bowl of caramel sauce, a bowl of dried fruits and a quantity of stiff whipped cream. “I have been your food and you my servant. Now shall you be my food, and I your servant…”

Bad Apple looked down at the stiff tower of his maleness and Luna smiling lovingly behind it. His eyes closed and a moan shuddered from his lips as the sticky sauce flowed down over his organ, and small pieces of dried fruit were gently placed on the sticky flesh, to decoratively stud it. It would be a slow, ridiculously-beautiful experience of being decorated ostentatiously and then cleaned up with eager savor. The smile on his face grew bigger, becoming a giant, stupid grin, the look of a stallion given everything in the world, then getting one little thing more. And he had all night to enjoy it.

The Raiding Party

Hooves thundered powerfully across the dry expanse of the Equestrian Mild West. A party of buffalo stampeding across the land, six in number, almost seeming to glisten just slightly, their powerful bodies fresh from the river that ran nearby to the fair-sized homestead which was visible in the not-considerable distance. Their target. The jewel for their raiding party.

They stampeded through the open gate and under the arch that proclaimed the name of the spread. They thundered to the large front doors and halted before them, snorting and panting heavily, giving one another looks, to confirm that the time had come. The lead buffalo looked down at the door, threw his head and hooves back, and then… gingerly knocked at the door, with just enough volume to be heard within the home.

It took a little time, but eventually a pony answered the door. She was an earth pony mare, her coat a bright, sunshine yellow with a paler yellow mane. She looked on the half dozen buffalo and smiled. “Ahhh, just in time. You ARE very kind.”

The lead buffalo, Pounding Hooves, smiled brightly and he nodded his head. “Sunny, you know we’re very punctual about raiding parties. So, are you ready for this? We can give you a little more time if you need to get ready.”

The mare, Sunny Shine, waved off the concern with a smile. “Oh you! Not at all. Oh! I hope you don’t mind, but we have a visitor. Whiplash invited a friend from Fillydelphia because she thought that she might enjoy a raiding party. Not three each. Two each today. Would that be… acceptable or should she sit it out?”

“The more the merrier, my little mare. Would we ever turn down any friend of yours or Whiplash’s? That would just be rude. Go ahead and get them. We’ll be right here waiting so we can make introductions.” Pounding smiled and gave a small bow.
“ Back in a flash! Oh, listen to me, suddenly I’m Whiplash.” Sunny giggled softly to herself and trotted back into the house. Not too much longer she was back at the door, joined by a Pegasus and a unicorn. The Pegasus was a white-bodied and red-maned one named Whiplash Rush, Sunny’s roommate and part-owner of the land and house. The unicorn was a most elegant lady, with a shimmering sable pelt and a surprisingly bright pink mane.

“Hey guys. This here’s my old buddy, Onyx Glow.” Whiplash softly pushed Onyx forward a bit with a wide grin.

“O-oh! My word, yes. It is a great p-pleasure to meet you, gentlebulls. Onyx Glow, Fillydelphia socialite. You can well imagine how excited I was to receive this invitation from Whiplash.” Onyx bowed, a blush coloring her black cheeks.

Pounding nodded and motioned towards the fence surrounding the property. “Pleasure to meet you, miss Glow. Now, you don’t need to remember this your first time but the bulls behind me are Thunderclap, Quaking Ground, Mighty Stone, Proud Stand and Crashing Run.” As he spoke, all nine were on their way to the fence.

“A great pleasure to meet you all.” In her eagerness, Onyx was the first to the fence, going down to her stomach and lifting her head up. “So do… do I select my own mode of sexuality?”

“Yes, of course. What sort of raiders would we be if we just forced you to do whatever we wanted? Consultation is key.” Pounding took up a place by the fence, soon enough joined by the rest.

“I presume you mares have preferred partners. I will take those left to me. All you gentlebulls seem quite wonderful and capable of showing a mare a good time.” Onyx looked over the thick slabs of shaggy muscle with a small quiver and a lustful eye.

“If you want, Onyx. I’m all about Mighty and Proud. No offense to the other guys but… more is fun but two gets the job done.” Whiplash wrapped her wings around the mentioned bulls, pulling them along the fence a short way from the main group.

“Oh Whiplash… nopony would ever know you were born and raised in Cloudsdale. You’re so subtle and understated.” Sunny laughed softly and rubbed her head against Pounding’s neck, reaching out for Thunderclap and pulling them the opposite way down the fence from Whiplash.

“Ah, so… Quaking and… Crashing, yes? Names are a specialty of mine. Makes cocktail parties less awkward.” Onyx released nervous energy with a laugh as the enormous slabs of dark brown plains-bred-beef lumbered up with her with friendly smiles. “If you would please, could you possibly come to either side of my head and… turn around? You see I have heard much of the… testicular enormity of the buffalo. I have some… great adoration for great potency. Please allow me to see as much.”

Quaking and Crashing looked to each other and shrugged. City ponies. The turned around slowly and lifted their hind ends up to expose themselves to Onyx. As she desired, she was shown their hanging testicles, which drew a loud, clearly-impressed gasp from her lips. Both of them were large, all four testes grapefruit-sized but not at all shaped in that way. Even more so than pony testicles the buffalo stones were very ovoid and pulled the loose brown scrota town almost into double points. They were warm, almost able to be felt radiating from the small distance from Onyx’s face, certainly hotter than the ambient temperature.

“M-my word.. My word…” Onyx panted softly, hesitatingly lifting her hooves up, to slowly and timidly caress the huge sacs, a thrill running through her as she made contact with the hot, almost-churning testicles. “They’re… they’re magnificent. Unimaginable. Stunning. Whiplash! Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

“Hey, Onyx, you were the only mare that gave a Cloudsdale nothing a chance in an earth pony town. You deserve it.” Whiplash went in for a quick snog with Mighty, letting his thick, slobbering tongue drive deep into her mouth and twist around with great gusto. Proud, for his part, was down on the ground, his face buried securely under Whiplash’s tail, broad snout grinding against the sensitive flesh while his girthy tongue plunged deep into her wet, sucking sex.

“And don’t be afraid to ask for anything in particular. The very worst they can do is say no. But you will find they are very, VERY accommodating.” Sunny hung her forelegs over a very smoothly-polished section of the fence, which had been sealed with lacquer and carved into convenient divots. This left her on her hind legs, her plump rump practically wiggling behind her as Pounding and Thunderclap came in to softly kiss the cheeks of her rear.

“I-is that so? Well then I… I realize this may strike you gentlebulls as odd, and you may not see the pleasure I derive but I would like you to…” Onyx inhaled deeply and slowly released a breath, gathering up her words. “To rock your bodies, very strongly, forward and back, ensuring each time you rock back, those… DIVINE testes thump soundly against my cheeks.”

“Seriously? Onyx, you really are a little freak. I guess that’s why we’re friends!” Whiplash laughed loudly, the noise folding into a moan as Proud delved deeply into her passage, his tongue actively twisting and swirling around like a mixer. Mighty was on the ground, lips wrapped solidly around one of her teats, his hollow cheeks showing just how powerfully he was drawing on the fleshy nub.

Responding to the very kind and polite request, the two bulls followed through, both of them rocking in odd rhythms and patterns until they caught up to one that suited both and let them swing forward and back like united metronomes. Also moving metronomically were the afore-adored scrota, which until a rhythm had been established had never approached too close. Once something had been decided, force was added to send them back with healthy, meaty thumps against Onyx’s flushed face. As they thumped heavily off her grinning cheeks she noticed that there were small bands securely loosely at the top of them, decorated with colored beads and small strips of colored string. As well, there was a light application of paint in patterns over the surfaces of the ovoid pouches. “Handsome… Ah! Enormous… Oh! And very... Ah! Stylish!”

“Now that’s a new use for those! I wish I had thought of- AH! Oh Celestia! Celestia! My buckling Celestia!” Sunny was in the process of complimenting Onyx when Pounding reared up and mounted her. He was so well experienced with her body that his long, thin organ plunged deep into her sex. His size made him just slightly thinner than the average pony, but he was much longer than any pony. He actually had to stop himself before he hit the mare’s cervix. He very admirably halted before he hit that internal barrier. Knowing his limit and being well-anchored, he began to thrust and pump, almost lifting up the mare’s body with each pump.

“Sunny, Onyx, you know I think you’re awesome.” Whiplash climbed atop Mighty, who was on his back and fully erect. She kissed her way up his thick, strong chest while she crawled her way up his body with her teats dragging over his shaggy fur and solid body. She ground her wide-spread crotch against the slightly-rippling body for a brief moment before she placed herself against the tip of his organ and pushed herself down, spread out smoothly and easily on the narrow but substantial pink pole. The walls of her sex pulled and rolled over the encroaching organ, while she moaned and panted softly, her body gliding down until she had reached her limit. “But you’re such… underachievers!” With that statement, Proud reared up and thrust forward, jabbing his narrowed tip against the juicy, spread lips, spreading them wider still and forcing a deeply-pleasured but near-agonized scream from Whiplash.

Onyx laughed with a soft moan underneath as the heavy stones bopped against her cheeks while she watched Whiplash work. “Pegasi!” She reached out with her magic, slowly wrapping the dropped and erect organs of her tenders in a shimmering magical field. The field squeezed down and hung in the air, turning their back and forth motions into firm, regular strokes over their rods. “For you. For all your glorious and kind sweetness.”

“Don’t think… we’re getting… in…” Quaking groaned out his comment to his fellow bull, his breath huffing out after he had said his piece.

“Not so bad!” Crashing grunted out a response, lowing loudly as he trembled a bit. “I trampling LOVE my eggs getting a touch.”

“You're so good, Onyx. No wonder Whiplash is your friend. Kind mares like you ne-” The rest of her commentary was cut off by a thick, stiff length of buffalo flesh forcing its way into her partially open mouth. The fence was low, so even with her legs up and over the fence Thunderclap could bring himself up and forward, bellowing grandly as his shaft poked into the earth mare’s mouth, spitting salty pre-ejaculate against the back of her throat.

Pounding lived up to his name, yet also proved himself to be remarkably restrained. His hips, made powerful by the thunderous stampeding rituals, jabbed his throbbing, fleshy organ into the mare, hard enough to make her know he could do some genuine damage to her, but with enough restraint to show off an amazing amount of tenderness. He, like his fellow bull, was spitting warm fluid into her, the sneak preview of release making her walls tremble and twitch.

Whiplash screamed out loudly across the empty expanse, her voice lost to the wide and consuming distance. Her screaming was pure pleasure, all small traces of pain or discomfort lost as her pleasure rose and rose into a warm purity. The widely-prised external lips, flushed with arousal, could almost be seen to pulling as though sucking the twin shafts down, while the internal walls rolled and pulled like a small army of slick, grasping clutches.

Onyx was sporting a tremendous, embarrassing blush, not only because of the heavy but gentle bumps from the fleshy pendulums, but because her magic was both wrapped around the two buffalo poles and also working her clitoris and external lips with warm pressure and quick rubbing motions, building her arousal.

Because Sunny was first to be mounted, she was the first to give a muffled cry, gurgling and spluttering slightly around the organ in her mouth as she tried to express her orgasmic bliss. Her marebits expressed it well enough for her, walls trembling and rolling, along the plunging, leaking organ.

Her rolling, orgasmic motions were enough to set off Pounding, who gave a tremendous bellow and thrust forward with a sense of finality, edging forward the last few little centimeters to nudge the tip against her cervix. The following jets of buffalo sperm splattered heavily against the barrier, warming her deliciously.

Next to go, in a glorious triple burst of peaking pleasure that created a melodious cacophony, were Proud, Mighty and Whiplash. The Pegasus was well and truly sandwiched by the burly bulls, barely able to lift her head up to scream out her bliss, losing that cry in the deep, heavy bellows from the enormous males. Her stretched-to-the-limit passage pulled down tight, snug as a vise, and pulled down to draw on the twin organs buried far into her. Both penises unleashed thick, heavy jets of seed that splattered around and hung in hot, sticky streamers.

Sunny gave a wet gurgle as her throat was suddenly filled with Thunderclap’s seed, the bull pulled back quickly and letting his softening length swing and drip. The mare swallowed, to her credit, before coughing an sucking in a loud breath. “Woo! Now that’s what I call a meal. Good and salty, and I didn’t even have to go to town.”

Onyx shook and ground at her sex, biting softly at her bottom lip as the pleasure built within her, like a boiling kettle. Her magical field started to move, jerking the shafts of the generous bulls that had played along with her strange obsession. She pumped and pulled those two rods with different speeds and strengths, one building towards completion faster than the other. Her eyes closed as she felt herself coming to the brink, and knew, through the energy flow, her partners were growing closer and closer. Her eyes snapped open and she gasped out, “Inside! Inside!”

The magical fields dropped away completely, her posture changing completely. She rolled over onto her back and lifted her rear end up, pointing her ass to the sky. Her horn lit up and pulled Quaking over to her with a sudden yank, her face contorted in concentration as she lifted his bulk just slightly, positioned him, and pulled him in, inserting his organ into her. She had left him on the edge, that sudden shock of surrounding heat and yanking wetness causing him to let out a grunt and jerk of his hips, his testes giving up their hot treasure.

Quaking had hardly finished his final shot before he was released and gently pushed aside, to make room for the arrival of Crashing. He, too, was pulled up and down, stroked both by magic and almost hungry-seeming walls of Onyx’s passage. Both gave a cry, his loud and long hers short and soft, as the tightly-pulled ovals released another heavy, longed-for flood of thick bull spunk.

Crashing pulled away when he had finished emptying himself into Onyx, huffing and grunting loudly. It had been a most unique experience. Only Onyx remained simmering at the edge. She squeezed her sex down, flexing the muscles and feeling the warm semen oozing and flowing inside. The warm issue of four gloriously large buffalo testes. The sticky substance clung to the walls and warmly slid down slowly, tickling her nerves. With a small squeal and a jerk she hit a delayed orgasm, a twitch of her muscles sending out a thick squirt of sticky sperm, which described a small arc and splattered lewdly on the ground.

For a long time, no one spoke. There were only the sounds of blowing wind, panting breaths and the occasional lingering groan. Finally, Sunny came down from the fence and stretched out with a soft moan. “Now, gentlebulls, shall we retire to the house? I have some supplies for you. What else is a raiding party for, after all?”

In the hall of the Diamond Dogs

The tunnels of the Diamond Dogs were often dark and dingy places, though with the advent of extra attention from mainstream Equestria they were often more often decorated with modern objects and made with more care and precision. In the mine tunnels electric lights illuminated the many branching passages, providing a steady illumination. The long, straight tunnels were normally sill and silent, when not filled with the sounds of work. But in that particular tunnel, it rang with howls and grunts, and the occasional screams of a female voice.

At the junction of several of the downward tunnels was a huge, well-constructed chamber that bore the marks of active excavation. It was lit well with many electric lights, which illuminated many carts piled with gems, sparkling gloriously. Also in the room were a number of Diamond Dogs, of many different types, including spear-wielding Dig Dogs in full armor. They were civilized Diamond Dogs, meaning they were clean and groomed, by and large, though mildly begrimed by the actions of being so deep in the earth. In the center of the room was a mare, an earth pony. She was a pale pink color, with a golden yellow mane in bouncy curls. Her body was very pudgy, thick and full and matronly. On her flank was a bouquet of white roses. She was also slightly dirty, sprinkled with dust, rolling around on a padded cloth. She was splattered with semen, with a Diamond Dog climbing off of her and shaking his penis at her, flicking fresh ejaculate onto her body.

She rolled slowly onto her belly and rose up on shaky legs, her rear end coming up more quickly than her front, which seemed to act like a beacon. A shriek poured from her mouth as an especially large, joweled type with pale brown fur leaped onto her hind end. One hand slapped her plump rear end, the thick digits making the heavy hind shake about, while the other stroked his unique organ. Unlike the four-legged creatures of Equestria, the Diamond Dogs lacked a tethering sheath, letting their straightly-cylindrical members hang down and sway freely, with some rising as blood engorged them.

He ground and mashed his rounded, blunted head against the mare’s lips, which let out a small running trail of oozing whiteness. He made certain to firmly and thoroughly rub and grind the lightly-pulsing flesh over the mare’s clit, making her groan and shudder all the more, her trembling forelegs losing strength and making her fall forward, rear end up in the air though hind legs still trembling as she was teased and massaged by the laughing dog, who was egged on by his guffawing fellow dogs.

After a long and complete tease of the ball of nerves, he slid the rounded head upwards, mashing the thick lips down, smearing around the evidence of prior partners then pressing right in the center, thrusting his hips forward with a growl and grunt, bringing forth a short cry from the mare beneath him as her lips were forced open and down into the passage that was trying to squeeze back down into original tightness. She wasn’t gaping by any means, but was very obviously well-used.

The huge hound howled out, thick fingers grasping hard at her fat, rounded flank. He used his grip to pull her up towards his hips, spreading her passage out again, undoing all the work she had done recovering from the previous activity. She cried again as the distinctly-alien penis pounded down deep into the warm clutching of her pony passage.

Another of the surrounding dogs came up, lightly panting as he presented his erect pole to her. He was of the shorter breed, jowly as well, and rather wide. The mare didn't even seem to see him. When her eyes were not closed, she seemed to have a glazed, distant look in those green eyes. Taking advantage of her occasional cries and groans he stepped forward, took her head in his hands and pushed himself between her lips. The mare gave a choke and gurgle, but did not seem to fight against it.

The smaller dog rasped a harsh laugh and placed his hands on his hips after he had his organ firmly and securely wedged into her mouth, no longer needing to hold onto her head. He did his best to stand looking proud of himself, despite his diminutive stature. He also tried to maintain his composure, giving small, unconcerned thrusts of his hips into the willing, drooling maw. But that was not at all easy to do, his tongue slipping out to pant as the pony's tongue slipped and squirmed around on the faintly-throbbing pink erection. In addition to that there was the loud, incredibly lewd sucking sound, emerging from the combination of free drooling and constant turning of her head to come at the dog dong from all angles.

In the rear, the taller dog was settled into a heavy, rhythmic thudding of his hips against the pony's big, jiggling ass. His huge hands were settled around her midsection, squeezing at her warm pudge as he used his grip to move her at his pleasure. He pushed her forward, into the body of the other dog, as he drew his hips back, then pulled her towards him as he thrust forward, his hips meeting her backside with a thunderous, meaty slap and light jiggle of her cheeks.

“Mmmm, pony is very tight. Good muscles to still be tight after so many dogs.” The tall dog grunted out his comment, continuing to give powerful thrusts and thugs against the mare. His organ ached and throbbed desperately deep within the squirming, double-taken pony, spitting warm preseed against the clutching, rippling walls of her insides.

The see-sawing spit-roasting continued with wild cheers from the assembled crowd and even barking laughter from the thick-bodied Dig Dogs. The smaller one went off first, yipping loudly and howling out, hands on his trembling his leaping off to grab the mare's head, keeping her in position as he directly splattered gooey dog slime down her throat and right against her tongue. He slipped out with a few last spits of the organ spattering on her face. Her sticky tongue, hanging with the ooze just placed on it, sloppily licked her lips as she heaved a sigh, which gurgled through the semen not yet swallowed.

As his smaller fellow fell with a grunt, the larger held the mare tight and jackahmmered his hips in hard against her fat rear end, adding a merciless spanking to her hard, unrelenting breeding. He did not last, fingers grabbing her hard while his head was thrown back. His howl echoed around the huge cavern, filled with the power of his orgasm. It felt, to him, like he was blasting her with a firehose, gushing wave on creamy wave of canine spunk into a decidedly non-canine receptacle.

The huge dog pulled out with a deep wurf, staggering back slightly and then falling on his rear, to the amusement of the other dogs around them. The mare slumped slightly, over-filled yoni showing a peeking glob of clinging seed, like a pearl. The tightening muscles forced out more and more until the messy creampie flowed out and splattered on the ground. She stood up on her shaky legs, looking around with bedroom eyes. She licked her sticky lips once again and moaned out, “More...”

A look passed between the gathered dogs, and their laughter choked off and died. Concern filled the cavern. By the looks of their crotches ever able-bodied canine had given the pink mare the business at least once, and some were panting hard enough to have appeared to have gone twice. “P-pony is strong...” One of the medium-sized one said, with a note of fear.

“Yes... too strong...” The smaller dog that had just been serviced responded, watching his issue being smeared around, like lip gloss. “What do we do?”

The medium dog wurfed heavily and looked at the two standing Dig Dogs. “Need more help.” He whistled sharply, the thick guards suddenly snapping to attention. “Dig Dogs! Service pretty mare!”

The huge gray-brown goofballs eagerly cast off their helmets and threw aside their spears. They revealed large eyes shining with desire, and heavily-jowled faces, giving them a bulldog look. They also stripped off their armor, the heavy steel plates clanging to the ground, revealing rippling, powerful chests, like slabs of cut rock. The stretched and howled in liberation, flexing revealing almost more muscle than should have been possible. They also thrust their erect organs into the air, well-prepared by watching the previous encounter, seeing the insatiable mare taking on their fellows and remain unsatisfied. They had to restore the honor of the colony.

The huge hands of the two dogs smeared their free-flowing preseed along their erections, highlighting the thick, standing network of faint veins. The engorged organs pulsated with need, hungry for the mare's body. The two drooled freely, slapping their thick tongues around their mouths and flinging saliva all around and onto the mare.

One of the huge dogs crashed heavily into the ground, like a stalactite during a cave in, right beside the mare. He reached out and under her, pulling her up and over atop him. She looked down with lust-fogged eyes, dipping her head down to capture his lips with her own. She had succeeded in completely cleaning her maw of the load from the prior dog. She was good and clean when the two began to sloppily make out. The dog tasted of “freshness”, with a hint of charcoal demonstrating the cause of the taste; the pony mare tasted like mint, the lingering effect of undiminished mouthwash.

Tongues dueled in both mouths, pressing against cheeks and trading saliva, the liquid running from between their joined lips as they slid and pressed against one another. One thick hand wrapped around her back, pushing her chest down against his own broad, flat pectorals. His other hand reached behind her, grasping his thick pole and pulling it up, pressing it firmly against her used passage.

The thick glans parted the lips with a soft squish, and worked to spread the passage, the re-tightening muscles fighting against the swollen rod. And the stiff length was winning without even trying. He pushed forward with a kind of inexorable destiny, burying himself with short thrusts and gentle shoves of her rear end, to force her hind end down a bit at a time.
He made it down to the hilt, fitting into her like a glove. His whole, pulsating girth reached right to her furthest depth. He then pulled her up a little bit and gave himself the space needed to thrust into her, giving light pumps of his hips. He then gave her hips a soft slap, striking over her Cutie Mark, and reached back around behind her with both hands, spreading out her rump to expose everything between the cheeks.

The Dig Dog standing behind her spit rather loudly, a very thick and slippery blob of saliva splattering directly against her puckered anus. His fingers came in and gently massaged the slippery liquid against the tight opening. The thick digits were a bit too thick to really slip in and spread it around, but he still tried, spitting more to get plenty of fluid down there to provide a good pool for lubrication.

He nudged the tip of his rounded, thick penis against the puckered passage, pushing hard against the muscular ring. He threw the power of his hips behind it and the weight of his thick body to the task of forcing the rear passage wide open. As the matter was pushed to the fore, the mare broke her kiss with a slightly-muffled cry, the noise interrupted by the tongue still stuck in her mouth, which slowly slipped out with a sloppy slurp.

She continued to cry out, head thrown back and body shuddering wildly as the girthy pole plunged deeper and deeper into her hind end, the dog below her adding to her pleasure by firmly thrusting into her body, rocking her with each stiff pump into her warmly-massaging sex. As she adjusted to the feeling of the double penetration, her cries slowly tapered off, falling into a whimpering little moan.

The exhausted dogs surrounding the scene started to nod to one another and exchange relieved smiles. But as the two Dig Dogs set to work, thrusting in and pulling out, going good and deep each time they moved, the mare threw her head back and shouted something to make the dog's faces fall. “MORE!”

In another tunnel, just off from the large cavern containing the great mare-pleasuring, there was a great flurry of activity. There was a stallion on the floor, on his back, casually straddled by a female Diamond Dog, one of the taller types, though lacking jowls. Behind her was another stallion taking up her backdoor, while a third was in front, filling her short muzzle. Lastly, two other stallions shuddered hard as her hands squeezed and stroked their trembling, leaking shafts.

It wasn't long at all before all the stallions gave loud, shuddering whinnies, the stroked males rearing up and all the others giving bounces of their bodies as they unleashed stallion spunk inside of the mare, and all over her face, the squirting lengths aimed carefully at her face, mouth open and pulled back a little from her partner's squirting erection.

Back in the cavern with the large collection of dogs, the canines whooped and clapped encouragingly at the Dig Dogs desperately and firmly riding the needy earth mare. Their heads turned at the sound of echoing clops from a side-tunnel. Out of that opening emerged the five stallions, looking winded but incredibly happy, and the Diamond Dog female, still slightly sticky with semen. The stallions calmly and willingly walked over to the carts, letting themselves be hooked up, and then trotting off with casual whistles and happy hums.

The female looked at the stallions trotting off with a fond smile. Then she turned to her male counterparts and gave a typical Diamond Dog grating laugh and a shake of her head. “Ha! Silly dogs. Stallions easy to please. And so many at once! Should try that.” She winked at them and then sauntered off down the passage the stallions had used.

The medium-sized dog and the smaller one who had spoken before looked down at the mare, who was calling more more between sloppily kissing the Dig Dog constantly burying himself in her warm and massaging passage. The smaller dog spoke aside to the larger, sotto voce. “Why we not use stallions? Easier, like she say. Plenty of females like ponies.”

The medium dog waved a hand dismissively, shaking his head a bit. “Not need to. Many mares. Easy to find. Like nice words and have free time. Mares just as strong. But that not important part.”

The smaller dog looked curiously at his boss. “What is more important?”

The boss dog watched the needy, greedy mare sucking on the Dig Dog's tongue, her trembling body looking alight with great pleasure, a smile showing on her snout, her face a mask of delight. The dog placed a hand on his smaller companion's shoulder and indicated the mare. “We make mares happy. Very happy. That most important part.”

Jelly and Cream

“You intended zis doughnut to have delicious jelly filling. But it will be my special eclair cream zat gets to it.” Gustave LeGrand waved the ridge above his golden eyes, twirling his finely-waxed mustache. His pastry bag stabbed deeply into an empty jelly doughnut, a grin on his beak. In defiance of culinary propriety, he was without both toque and apron, revealing the light gray of his head and the darker blue-gray of his coat, looking more like his body was of a chartreux rather than a lion.

“Oh yea? Well you see this eclair? It's not getting your precious frou-frou cream. This is good ol' pony-made jelly. And grape jelly too! None of that smooth lemon stuff!” Doughnut Joe pushed his pastry bag deep down into the eclair, the nozzle tip nearly at the bottom. As with his cooking counterpart, Joe was without toque and apron, and not even wearing his usual paper hat. His orange mane was free and untamed, and light amber body bared to the eyes of the griffin across the kitchen from him.

Gustave narrowed his eyes, talons giving the bag a slightly-tighter squeeze. “You would not DARE.”

Joe licked his lips, magical field pressing in just as much. “Try me.”

After a moment more of the standoff Gustave fired first. His talons squeezed his pastry bag, swiftly overfilling the fresh doughnut with the sweet cream. Not a second later, the magical aura squeezed the bag of jelly, pulling back slowly as the eclair was flooded with jelly.

“Monster! That was supposed to be a jelly filled! How could you?” Joe glared hotly at Gustave.

“Et vous! Zat was supposed to be filled with zee cream! Tres gauche to fill it with zat pedestrian jelly!” Gustave glared at Joe right back.

The two bakers looked at each other from across the kitchen, neither one moving a muscle. Then they set towards one another at the same moment, meeting in the middle with a solid impact, portly pony form to girthy griffin body. Gustave's arms wrapped around Joe's shoulders, while Joe's own forelegs came in under his arms to squeeze at his midsection. Their mouths met, lips locking, tongues dancing within each other's maws, deep, soft moans and grunts emerging from the pair.

The two parted with a soft pant and a fond lick at each one's tongues. “Oh you are one naughty griffin, aintcha Gussy?” Joe ruffled Gustave's head-feathers and leaned in against his lover.

“I wish you would not use such a name for me.” Gustave put on a mock-injured pout. “It is so... feminine. What if I were to call you Josephine? I am not a hen. Do you really want a hen, Joe?”

“Awww, no, no! Come on, Gustave. It's just...”

“Je comprendes, Joe. I was playing zee little trick. I do love when you call me, 'Gussy.' You really love me...” Gustave winked and placed a soft kiss on Joe's lips, stroking a talon down his cheek and neck.

Joe shivered lightly and gave a lopsided grin. “You're a hard griffin to figure out, Gussy. I think that's why I fell for you in the first place.” Joe ground his portly frame up against Gustave's body, hooves groping clumsily at his lover's thick body.

A hearty chuckle poured from Gustave's lips, his talon's lewdly reaching under Joe to caress his thick sheath, not minding the clumsy gropes from his earnest sweetheart. “Oui. We Black-Verreaux griffins are tres mystérieux. And very passionate. We are just like zee ponies you call zee “Percheron.” Mm, but you do not want a pony, do you, ma bon chef de pâtisserie..?”

“Yea...” Joe let out a deep, husky groan, his amber-colored organ dropping form his sheath under the griffin's ministrations. He reached out with his magical field, gripping and kneading Gustave's partially-emerged penis. “And you ain't lookin' for another griffin, are ya? Nah, ya just want a some fatty of a Manehattan stallion. Ya wanted a pony so bad ya changed yer own name. Pony name and all...”

“Mmm, oui.” Gustave licked up the side of Joe's face, until he got to his ear, nibbling it with his break, mustache tickling the inside just slightly. “Zere is no more Gustave mac Jean O'Black-Verreaux. Zere is only Gustave LeGrand, citizen of Equestria.” He stroked up and down Joe's floppy rod, causing the other baker to stiffen up almost immediately, a testament to the pony's great love.

“And I'm glad I've got you.” Joe's ear twitched and his body shuddered, from the warm pleasure of his erection being stroked, the tickly brush of the mustache in his ears, to the tingle running through his horn from the sensation of him using his magic tendrils to grip and stroke the leonine penis. Or leonine to some extent. It was thick, like a pony's, but somewhat pointed, and lacked the barbs he had heard were on feline poles. “All for me.”

Gustave gave a breathy laugh and tickled that ear a bit more, rubbing his thumb gently along the blunted crown of Joe's length, the smooth bumps of his scaled talons massaging and tickling the heated, throbbing flesh, teasing out the first few small dribbles of slick precum. “And zis... zis belongs to moi.” The griffin tickled his tongue slowly around the cup of Joe's ear, trailing kisses as he went along.

“Yea... yea you roll that piping bag, Gussy. Squeeze it. Got lots and lots of glaze, and it's all yours.” The overheated stallion panted hotly and let out a long, drawn-out groan as his penis openly leaked, adding slickness to the warm stroking of his engorged pole. His horn flared more, his magic adding more “surface area” to the stroking. It was no longer like a gripping hand. It was more like a warm, tingly blanket, rolling up and down the pointed shaft, squeezing in firmly for a moment.

“Dirty, dirty stallion.” Gustave's comment was little more than a hot breath, barely audible above the thumping of their hearts and grind of their bodies. “Oui... Use zat magic. I may be no hen but I have two BIG eggs pour vous. All heavy and ready to be drained.” He dropped a wink and kissed the stallion's snout. “Do you like to drink zee egg creams?”

“Heh, I’ve never turned down an egg cream.” A pang of worry crossed the stallion's features and he gave his body a shake, making his not-insubstantial gut wobble. “Never really turned down much of anything... But hey! I'm a pastry cook. That's how I like it.” His body shuddered lightly as the stroking of his erection also grew to include the cupping and squeezing of his testicles. “Oh, and that's how I like it too.”

“J-joe!” Gustave shivered a bit, arching his back to shove the proud length of pink flesh into the engulfing magic field, swinging his testicles freely for a moment before the magic came in to grasp and massage over them as well. The warm magical feeling flowed across the heavy spheroids and up the faintly-spitting tube of griffin meat. “Are you so eager for a snack?”

“Hey, honey-buns...” Joe shook his belly again, this time with less self-loathing, but with almost a flush of pride. While he did that his hips pumped a bit faster, though with some jerkiness; clearly he was not used to much in the way of physical activity, though this was something he had some skill with. His amber-colored maleness slid smoothly through Gustave's grip, pleasured and massaged by the smooth bumps of the griffin's hand, gliding along on a slick layer of his precum. “I always want a snack. Gimme!”

Gustave did not respond with words. He only hungrily clamped his mouth onto Joe's mouth, tongue dueling with the pony's, sucking on him with great eagerness. He was matching his lover's motions, though they were pleasuring each other in completely different ways. The magical field massaging his genitals was everywhere. It touched every inch of his rod, and all around, and likewise cupped his dangling testes, rubbing, squeezing, rolling along, smearing the slippery liquid spitting from the tip all around.

The two groped around at their lover's bodies, eyes closed tightly as they made out. As their orgasms drew closer to arrival, they started groping around the counters around them. Joe's trembling magical grip squeezed down on an empty eclair, giving it an unintentional massage; Gustave's free talon grabbed a dry jelly doughnut, claws digging into the side and tearing it mostly open.

The two responded to each other almost instantaneously, modifying speed, strength and location of strokes and pulls, the two items of pasty brought down before the twitching, pleasure-soaked erections. The two broke their kiss to let out loud, husky groans.

Joe was the first one to go; he usually was. He tossed his head back and delivered a heavy nicker and let himself go, blunted head flaring lightly beneath Gustave's fingers, which directed it towards the magically-held eclair, the fill hole being opened good and wide by the magic holding it. The heavy stallion nuts delivered heavy gouts of sticky cream, which splattered straight into the opening, with some of it coating the outside.

Gustave hardly left his lover any time to recover, Joe forced to focus on keeping his rolling magical grip steady and firm, pointing the pointed tip of the griffin's meat at the opened doughnut, working the base of it with more stroking pressure and giving the leonine testicles an encouraging squeeze. Almost as if he was squeezing out the contents of a piping bag, with a more gentle touch. With a sound like a melded screech and roar he threw back his head and shuddered his hips, releasing his personal cream all over the opened doughnut, his talon doing well to try and hold it steady and catch all the shots of gooey semen.

The magical field faltered and fell away from Gustave's softening maleness, letting it flop and slowly soften back into his sheath, testes swaying as the cupping force dropped. Joe's length flopped and swayed comically, as any other stallion's tool. The two pressed in for a warm, comforting kiss, tongues briefly twining together before they separated with a soft pop.

The eclair slowly levitated up, placed before Gustave's beak. It oozed with pony semen, looking a trifle soggy and slightly worse for wear for having been flattened inside with quick bursts of magic to provide enough space. “Hey Gussy... an eclair. Just like you love it.”

“Mon amour...” Gustave's eyes shone as he took the eclair, and passed the closed doughnut into the stallion's magical field. The ragged tearing and quick presses of fingers just barely made enough room to hold in the whitish griffin issue; it wasn't sealed up like a proper jelly doughnut, and looked ready to flop open at a moment's notice. “Pour vous, mon coeur.”

Joe unashamedly took a big bite of the sopping pastry, tongue flicking around and making sure to lap up any stray bits of seed that tried to escape from his maw. His tongue ran slowly along the bitten edge, a pleasured smile and pleased rumble showing his delight. “Ahhh, Gussy. Ya got talent. This is a dee-liscious griffin cream doughnut.”

Gustave was slightly more restrained, taking an almost-disdainful sniff at the sloppily-made eclair. He then opened his mouth and took a bite at the open end. His tongue teased at the escaping liquid, then slid back into his beak as he gave a slow, contemplative chew. He swallowed it with a sigh and smiled to Joe. “Delicious. You made a wonderful pony jelly eclair.”

The two males leaned against one other, casually eating their pastry while clearly showing how much they enjoyed the taste. Joe was the first so speak, licking his lips and leaning his head against Gustave. “Ya know, Gussy... I'm glad I met you.”

Gustave leaned over to kiss his stallion, an arm sliding around him to draw him into a warm, tight snuggle. “Je t'aime, mon petit étalon...”

Joe just gave a confused look to the griffin, rubbing his head with his hoof. “Uhhh, yea.. jet... am... you too.”

Gustave nestled his beak under Joe's chin, rubbing against his throat. “I have never heard it said better.”

Post-coital Bliss

“Darling, are you ready to go?” A clinical room, transformed into something far less cold and impersonal.

“Just a moment, I'm getting ready.” The bare, white walls were covered in pictures in beautiful frames. Wedding photos, portraits, candid shots. A Changeling and a pegasus. The bare white vinyl floor was strewn with colorful throw rugs, as much of the floor as possible covered. The door in the room led out to more white rooms, a complex of redecorated whiteness and clinical cleanliness. It was like suburban Equestria was trying to take over the place.

“You don't need to fuss like that. I married you for who you are, not for what you can turn into.” Discharged Canterlot guard Thunder Crash smiled lightly and looked in on his wife, leaning against the door frame.

“I know. It's okay if I walk around in my own chitin and show myself off. But I want to look my best. You deserve a good-looking 'ling beside you. It's the least I can do for getting you discharged.” There was no traditional glass mirror in the room. Only a highly-polished piece of metal that worked just as well. And in that mirror was the face of a Changeling, the Changeling Marianne. She had renounced her loyalty to the swarm, affirmed her citizenship as an Equestrian and married the guard that had made her what she always wished to be.

“We both got me discharged. I gave in to you. And I haven't regretted it. Not one little bit.” He came up behind his wife and snuggled against her side. “You're so beautiful. And you're always going to be beautiful to me.”

She buzzed her wings and gave a soft, sheepish squeak. Her huge, blue eyes turned from her image in the mirror to take in her husband. All white, with cocoa brown eyes and mane. “And you are so handsome. So noble. You didn't let me be alone. You came to me. And I can't thank you enough.” She pursed her lips and came forward, cute little fangs shining.

Thunder kissed Mari with undiminished passion. After the interrogations, the trial, the uncertainty that led to being handed a gift... her majesty's personal clemency. Celestia herself, handing him an honorable discharge, his Miles' pension, and all in exchange for the one thing he would have done. His foals were inside her. His ponylings. And his end of the bargain was to be with them, for the rest of his life. Every good father's dream. “They're waiting...”

“I know, I know. But it takes a lot of work to look this good.” Before the shiny metal was a plain industrial-style table, holding a large tub, plain and bland, bearing a stamp from the Noble Society's Department of Bio-Thaumaturgy. A special cream of quinones, for conditioning her cuticle, with fragrances and other lotion components, the only beauty product a Changeling would need. She rubbed the cream into her face and onto the rest of her body, humming pleasantly.

“You don't need to do all that work. You're perfect how you are.”

“Awww, you flatterer. Okay, I'm ready.” Mari stepped away from the metal mirror, fluttering her wings again and pressing herself against her husband.

The two left the bedroom, through their windowless home, past more photographs, over more throw rugs, into a nicely-appointed living room that contained a fine collection of sharp, modern electronics and a comfortable couch, which broke the mold of the clinical place. They went to the sturdy white door, Thunder knocking heavily on it. “Ready to go, guys. And thanks for watching the little ones.”

“Not a problem. They're no trouble at all.” Behind the heavy door stood two Celestian unicorn guards, standing on either side of a frilly pram, black in color with white lace. The one who had spoken, Miles Gladius Sparking Burst, nodded and smiled to the two. “How are you holding up, Thunder? I can't imagine it's all that nice.”

“You'd be surprised. Free food, and good food at that, free utilities, all the hot water we could need, the nicest electronics. There's even a hot tub in the bathroom. Her majesty knows how to take care of a lab rat.” Thunder laughed lightly and stepped up to the pram.

“You're very kind.” Mari nodded to Sparking and smiled at him, trying to use as little of her fangs as possible. “I should have been ready earlier. I'm sorry I just left them with Thunder and then you.”

“It's my job, ma'am. And Thunder and I were Scutaria together. He chose to be a Scutum and I chose to be a Gladius but we kept in touch. I was sorry to see him be discharged but, hay, he's happier than I remember seeing him. You've been good for him.” Sparking gave Mari a slight bow.

Mari buzzed her wings in a sheepish fashion again and strolled up to the pram, gently giving it a push and setting off down the long hallway. Thunder fell into pace behind her while the two guards walked a few paces behind. They moved through the hall and through several doors and out into an open courtyard, with a fountain in the center and beautiful flowers all around the smoothly-paved path. A gate lay not that far away, Canterlot's highest terrace visible through the bars, while opposite was the side of a large hospital-looking facility. “Think we can stroll through the terrace today? I always enjoy it.”

“When have you ever been denied?” Sparking lit his horn and levitated up a pendant, which he moved to the gate and pressed against a large crystal. The gate pulled aside slowly, allowing the small party to leave the courtyard and enter the terrace proper.

There were not that many ponies about at that time, but those few that were in the area all noticed the four-being procession. Those in groups nudged one another or pointed over, all of them surprised by the presence of a Changeling walking around with several ponies. Especially with a carriage. Though Changelings, who had defected from the swarm, were not unheard of in pony regions, they knew this was the first one to defect, and the only one to have bred with a pony. She was almost a living legend, casually walking around with a stroller like any normal mother.

The two guards lit their horns and lowered their heads threateningly as a mare approached. She was a leggy golden unicorn with a copper mane, wearing an expensive, jewel-enhanced saddle. She slower and approach and tried to appear friendly. “P-please, I mean no harm. I just wanted... I wanted to see them.”

Mari nodded lightly and looked back to her guards. “Please, let her come and see. I don't mind.” When the magical auras faded, Mari was free to come around to the side of the covered pram, a small smile on her face. She suspected... “Worker or drone?”

“A drone.” The fancy-looking unicorn was shameless. She offered a warm smile and a small sigh. “I met him in one of the lower terrace clubs while I was out for a night with my friends. He was very... chivalrous. The doctors have advised us to not... until they write up their reports on you. I wanted to see.” She looked hopefully down at the pram. “May I?”

“Of course!” Mari used her horn to pull down the blanket to reveal the contents of the pram. Eggs. Two large, clear-walled, gel-like eggs. Within each, a figure. They were essentially-fully-formed babies, curled up in the normal fetal position. A greenish-gold sac was in each egg, and attached to the bellies of the two babies. One lay very still, only giving small twitches of its rear leg, while the other stretched a bit and gave a small yawn, opening its eyes. The ponylings looked like small foals, with the greenish middle portion, no holes, horns, wings, all composed of purely white chitin. The open eyes showed no pupils, like Changeling eyes, but their color was a warm cocoa brown. “They have their father's coloring, and his eyes. Just a month more, and maybe not even that. Then they'll come out. And we can hold them. We'll get our own home, and be a family. Like I always wanted.”

Princess Luna's chambers were dark, black as a starless night, her braziers extinguished following her fun with her beloved. She did not necessarily require sleep, but she found it pleasant. She was not asleep at that moment. She was holding her lover tightly to her chest, feeling his body move with the rhythm of his breath, and the gentle thump of his heartbeat. The warmth of his body, the weight of him, the subtle sound of his breathing and the shift of his limbs were genuine signs that this was real. He was with her. As she desired. But knew she could not always have.

A soft sigh fell from her lips, and her head dipped lightly. That was enough. His sharp ears knew the sound of his beloved one's sorrow. Even while he was asleep. His body shifted, bringing his head up, his lips pressing lovingly against hers. He held the kiss for a long while, as long as Luna returned the kiss, with a passion and adoration shared by the two. “Did I disappoint you?” The question was purposeless. He knew that wasn't it. And she knew it was just a perfunctory inquiry, to start the conversation.

“No. Nay. Never. Shall you never do thus.” Luna smiled in the darkness, leaning down to rub her snout along Bad Apple's, lipping softly over him. “I do treasure your presence, for every instant you are near.”

“I sense a 'but' in there...” He considered his words and corrects, “That is, I sense a 'however' will confront me soon...”

“You have placed a doom 'pon my glee. In three day's time doth come the sword. You will be provision'd, rested, and salaried. And shall you step forth away from mine embrace. Will my bed be cold and bare, all the more lonesome for having known companionship.” Luna stroked her hooves down Bad Apple's warm body, feeling the slight scars beneath the coat. He was careful to hide them from the world, the unflappable, invincible scoundrel; she knew the place of every single one, the story of each, and which nearly could have been mortal.

Bad Apple was silent, a long, long while. He kissed at Luna's chest, and ran his hooves down her perfect sides. Every inch of her was like a part of himself, every little section known to him, intimately. Dark or bright. “I know. But I must. I have a responsibility. I am needed elsewhere, because I think I may... I may succeed in... in what I...” All the energy seemed to drain out of him, some bit of contemplation making his resolve fail.

“How now, my love? What stops your tongue and cools your passion so?”

“There are so many troubles. So many terrible things. I pursue them all to clean and polish the land. But can I really claim to have done anything at all?” Bad Apple actually shivered against Luna. “I have been pursuing one madmare for so much of my life. Am I doing any real good?”

Luna considered his words, and her words as well, pressing him more tightly to her body. “Have you stoppered the tears of even one foal?”

The stallion nodded slowly. “More than I can remember, sad as that is.”

“Staunched you the wounds and halted you the sighs of the suffering wretches?”

“Towns worth. Towns... worth...”

“And chastened you the shedders of innocent blood?”

Bad Apple as quiet for a bit and kisses Luna on the lips. “Equestria is so big. And I am so small. I sometimes forget that even a small town is a town. I'd like to stay. But I think I have a notion...”

“Aye. Aye. Towns mean much to they within...” Luna stared off into the darkness. She wanted him. Wanted him with her safe and secure. But he had a quest. His own self-imposed quest, but with her support. He was doing such good. Helping her subjects. “And you... must never surrender.”

“Gentlebulls, I must say that this has been a most pleasant day! I cannot possibly thank you enough for the warm issue of your potent stones. I was so very right to come here.” Onyx Glow toasted the buffalo bulls with her teacup, giving a blushing smile to Quaking and Crashing. All nine of the participants in the “raid” were sitting in the living room of the house, properly having fresh-brewed tea and tea cakes. “I do hope you enjoy tea and cakes. It is a Fillydelphia staple.”

“Normally we would relax after a vigorous raiding with a glass of sweet tea, or apple juice or lemonade and a few cookies or perhaps some apple pie. But this is a nice change of pace.” Sunny Shine sipped at her tea and took a bite of cake. “Very tasty.”

“It's not as refreshing. I've never been into this frou-frou tea and cakes stuff. Even in Fillydelphia I was never really good at hanging with the fancy ponies. That's why Appleoosa is for me.” Whiplash Rush guzzled some tea and gasped at the sudden rush of heat.

“Mmm, very unique. It's a new experience. Heh, a lot of that going on today, right guys?” Pounding winked to his fellow bulls and got a resounding laugh from the other five. “Sunny, Whiplash, you have one fine friend there and it was a pleasure to service her. As far as I could tell. I was a little busy being bottomed-out deep inside Sunny.” Another chorus of laughter emerged from the sextet.

“I can tell you, it was a pleasure to be serviced, as you put it. And a grand service it was. So thick and rich. Highest quality I have ever had.” Onyx took a dainty sip from her teacup, as though she had not just made a comment concerning the testicular issue of two total strangers.

There was a moment of polite laughter and then a bit of silence before Sunny spoke up. “Oh! Have you heard the latest news from the town proper?”

“Oooh yea, gossip! Gimme the dirt. It was about Abundant Sheaves, wasn't it? What's the town carriage up to this time?” Whiplash leaned forward with sudden interest.

“Abundant Sheaves? Town carriage? I think I heard about her. Trampling hay, some bulls can't resist the low hanging fruit, rotten as it is.” Pounding shook his head.

“No, no. It's not about that horrible mare. There's been some new rumbling around in town. A new official-looking fellow. He's doing the usual strutting and posturing and things like that. But I've heard an awful new whispering. That he's going to try and completely stop any and all raiding parties.”

A shocked murmur ran through the gathering, everyone turning and looking at one another with expressions ranging from surprise to distress to anger. That was Whiplash. “What the hay!? Stop all the raiding parties? Who does this bucker think he is?”

“I've only heard rumors while I was buying our extra provisions. Apparently he's from Canterlot. You know how they are. Stuffy, officious, dreadfully dull. He's interested in “clean up the landscape” as far as I've heard. He thinks that the raiding parties reflect badly on the buffalo and are terrible insults to their proud and noble ways.” Sunny shook her head and took a sip of tea.

“Oh no, not one of those again. Chief Thunderhooves is getting sick of those types that come in with all kinds of stupidly patronizing babbling. This is just how we do things. How does being a six-bull raiding party stampeding up to a house for supplies and putting the meat to all the mares within makes us buffalo look bad?” Pounding rubbed his head and started in on another tea cake.

“I have not a clue at all.” Onyx reached out to gently pat Pounding on the hoof. “I'm only from Fillydelphia, not Manehattan or Canterlot but I know these big city pony types. They always think they are doing good but they never understand the way things go in places like this. You have quirks and traditions. And that is wonderful! I, for one, have a much greater appreciation for you buffalo now. I daresay I would come back here all the time for raiding parties. There are very compelling reasons, to be sure.”

“Sheriff Silverstar has said he would keep an eye out and severely punish any buffalo he caught going on raids.” Sunny waited a beat and then added, “Silverstar also said he was developing a really bad astigmatism.” The gathered crowd let out a good, hearty laugh.

Down in the tunnels of the Diamond Dogs, a small herd of stallions pulled on their gem cats with some trembling. They were sweating and looking quite out of breath, the five males not at their best at all. Behind them a female Diamond Dog, shaking her head and waving her hands. “Go ponies! I gave you sex! We will pay you good wage! Move now! Move!”

“What that you say before?” A mocking voice echoed up the corridor from the lower levels.

“Who said that? Come out here coward! Flea bar! Come here!' The female dog barked loudly down the corridor, her echoing cry making the stallions wince.

The only response was the squeak of wheels and the clop of hooves on the ground. From out of the distance there appeared the mare, pale pink coat shining with sweat, her bouncy golden yellow curls slightly out of place form the action of vigorous rutting. Her thick, matronly body was showing off its earth pony power, hauling along two carts of gems without much difficulty. There was even a smile on her face. “Out of my way, boys. I have a job to do and I'm not a slacker.”

The boss dog from before was walking at the mare's side, one hand gently placed upon her and occasionally pressing on her as he walked with a kind of slight wobble. “Yes, stallions easy. But stallions weak after sex pay. Cost too much, not work hard. Mares work hard after sex pay. Only need many dogs.”

“Bah! So many dogs. Waste of time. Could dig for gems!” The female snorted petulantly and stood off to the side as the mare and other dog passed them by.

“We already dig gems. Need them moved. Silly dog.” The boss dog stroked a hand slowly along the mare's back and grinned a white-toothed smile. “Mares hungry for dogs. But there are many dogs.”

“Hey, I'm right here. Not that it's untrue. They got unlucky. I'm pretty insatiable. I was surprised. They actually scratched my itch in every possible way. And I might be a mess, but I have not been this SATISFIED in ages. You're a mess, but are you satisfied?” The mare winked as she passed the fuming dog female.

“Ponies not ask me questions like that! Puppy passage not your business, pony! Go! Go work! Pull gems to holding tunnels. And see quartermaster for pay.” The female shook her fist at the departing, laughing, pair.

“Not listen to angry one. Pony is doing good.” The boss dog stroked down the mare's back again, tickling at her flank at the bottom of his stroke.

“Just for the record, and for tax purposes, my name is Golden Dawn. I'm guessing you don't watch many movies down here.”

“Mm, have time to watch but do not. Like movies but hard to find place to watch. Very busy in colony. Oh! Name is Olivine.”

“Olivine, you didn't know it, but... I'm a porn star. That's why it took so many dogs to satisfy me. I'm used to professionals. But you guys... you kept at it. I found it very impressive.” Golden trotted along with a pleasant hum. And her tail, playfully, swatted Olivine on the rear.

“Hey! Bad pony... Golden. Mmm. Delicious gold.” Olivine seemed taken by a less carnal hunger, though his hand remained on Golden's rear end as they sauntered along.

“Gussy...” Doughnut Joe looked behind him, to the thick-bodied griffin sprawled out comfortably over his back, looking content.

Gustave LeGrand's head slowly rose and his eyes opened with a little grumble. “Qu'est ce que c'est? What is it, Joe?”

“You know... we need to talk about something really important.” Joe twisted his body around and wound up on his back, to pull Gustave up onto him and into a warm embrace.

“Oh... non... Joe please... not like zis. Please... do not be so sweet when you do zis to me. Do not make your poison into a treat with honey. Please...” Gustave pulled away slightly, eyes suddenly wide, one hand over his beak.

“What? What are you talkin' about? I'm not tryin' ta poison you or anything. Relax.” Joe reached out to grab the trembling griffin in his legs and pull him down to his warm, thick body. “What's wrong?”

Gustave resisted the pulling for a bit, before logic caught up with his fevered imagination. A light blush passed over the bridge of his beak and he cuddled up against the stallion. “Désolé, Joe. I'm sorry. But, important talk for a griffin zat is zee, how do your ponies say? Colt cuddler? Oui. For a griffin who is zee colt cuddler, important talk is either zee authorities are coming or it is time to part. And zee authorities do not hurt colt cuddlers. So...”

“Oh! Oh Gussy! You thought I... oh no! No way! That's not gonna happen. No way am I gonna let you go, my puff patry.” Joe pulled Gustave in closer, pettering his mustachioed face with a flurry of kisses and nuzzles.

“Ah! Ah! I understand. I should always trust you, mon brioche.” Gustave returned the rain of kisses, his talons stroking and squeezing at the pony beneath him. “So, if you are not going to make me zee sad griffin, what did you want to say to me?”

Joe stroked down Gustave's sides slowly, looking from side-to-side. “Ah... we... we've gotta... we've gotta talk to the patron. I mean... I... we... um...”

“Zee patron? Gilbert? Why do we need to talk to him? We just came from zee chateau. Ahh, it was a beautiful wedding. Antonia et Cheerilee looked tres beautiful.” Gustave got a dreamy look on his face, his neck feathers puffing up a little bit as he entered a mushy mode.

“Yea, the wedding...” Joe trailed off for a moment then shook his head and pressed on. “Gussy, I know the patron is the one that supports your shop. He always did, since you came here with your dream. He's the money guy that has to be seen for all important decisions.”

“Ou-oui... c'est vrai...” Gustave looked at Joe with a lowering of one eyelid and a slight pulling back of his head. “Zee patron has believed in me and I do my best to support zee trust he has put in me.”

“Well, we need to talk about something important. We've gotta... gotta... you know. We've...”

“Joe? Qu'est ce que c'est?”

“I wanna... combine our businesses. I mean, we've got the same house, the same interests. We're two of the best in the business. We could be unstoppable as a team! Combine Pony Joe's and LeGrand's “pay-tisseree.”” Joe's eyes shone as he mangled his lover's shop name, and imagined such a combination.

“Hmmm... combine zee businesses. Well... zat is important, oui...”

“Not... just our businesses. I wanna combine...” He levitated over an un-filled cream puff and opened it up wide, showing off a golden ring topped with a polished onyx. “Our names...”

“J-joe... OUI!” Gustave ignored the ring, plunging down with a happy screech, coating Jow's face with happy kisses, his arms squeezing the stallion tightly against his warm body.

“Ever since that wedding...” Joe had a big, stupid smile on his face, and was able to speak while Gustave was kissing his neck. “I just... I wanted that for myself. I wanted to be at the altar, with you. And here in Canterlot, we can do it, and everypony would be happy.”

“To marry you... it would be a dream. A dream I never could have in zee Kingdom. But now... with you... oh yes Joe. As soon as we can.” Gustave stroked his chin and grinning. “Zere is one thing...”

“Mmm, what's that?”

“We can save beaucoup bits on zee food. We can cater our own nuptuals!”