The village of Ponyville slept fitfully beneath the pounding of a scheduled, but ill-received, thunderstorm. With the light of the moon banished behind the thick and roiling clouds, and half of the firefly lanterns out due to the inclement weather, the whole place was dark, and amazingly foreboding.
Into that area of nasty precipitation and darkness rolled a yellow checkered hansom cab, pulled along by a single burly earth pony in a concealing black rain coat. He had a single passenger, an earth pony mare in much more dainty cloth rain gear. It looked like nothing so much as a huge, light gray shawl with a lace-bordered hood.
The cab skidded to a halt well before the edge of town, in an area that looked like the cutoff between woods and scrub. “'Ere, this is where you leave, lass,” the driver said with a thick Cockney accent.
The mare looked out to the distant sight of Ponyville and scoffed. “What are you talking about? I paid you to get me to Ponyville, and we're getting to Ponyville, m'kay?” she stated, hers a weak Manehattan accent.
“Don't care how much you stuff yer hooter up in the air, that Westend tongue don't mean nothin' ta me, love,” The driver responded, unhitching himself from the cab.
“What are you talking about? I paid, I deserve to get my money's worth! I spent good bits!” The mare complained.
“Ain't none of my affair, lass,” the driver commented, roughly mishandling a trunk attached to the back, tossing it onto a sodden patch of scrub grass. “I was told ta get near enough to Ponyville and then chuck you outta the back. Ya may 'ave paid, but it sure weren't much if I'm doin' this.”
“Quit it! That's important fashion stuff, dress designs and expensive junk!” The mare heedlessly rushed out into the rain to check the state of her trunk. “This is crazy! Take me to town or I'll complain to your boss, m'kay?”
“'Ere, I don't work for you!” the driver grunted, lumbering back to the front of the cab. “And 'e who I does work for don't listen much when folk come with a lotta blather. We gives ya what 'as been paid for. Ain't our fault ya ain't willin' ta put up the knicker ta get it done all dainty. Next time hire one’a them carriages what’s owned and run by poofs!”
“No! You have to take me into the middle of town, right by my new house!” the mare whined, putting her hooves up on the driver.
The driver shrugged her off and hitched himself back to the carriage. “You are now in the environs o’ Ponyville, as required by your payment. Now, were I inclined, I could stretch my effort to take you to the town proper. However, ya 'adn't a kind word the whole way. I got nuffin’ but yer gums wavin' about 'ow you wasn’t satisfied in the slightest. It makes me disinclined to be gen’rous. I already suspected I would not get a tip so I 'ave no need to try and crawl for one. Besides, up there’s where the rain is worse. I ain't goin' through that monsoon in nothing but a black plastic mac because some posh bint thought I'd be swayed by her fancy palaver.”
“But... but...” The mare pleaded, unable to stop the driver from pulling a turn.
“Best get somewhere dry. You toff types is too weak ta stand up ta a li’l drizzle,” the driver huffed, dashing off and leaving his passenger at the edge of the storm's force.
The rain spattered across the back of that ineffectual cloth attire. It had either been poorly weatherproofed or it was just for show. In any case it did nothing to stop the rain. The fancy earth mare pulled at her trunk, her hood falling back as she shifted the huge thing, revealing the face of disgraced fashionista Suri Polomare.
Her purple mane had been poorly brushed and styled, as though done on the cheap and in a hurry, and that soon was soaked by the rain, turning it into a sodden mess. Mud caked her hooves, and by extension her once-posh trunk. Her pale orchid coat was turning into a filthy mess as she trudged along the road, burdened by her trunk and her thoughts.
“Home sweet home,” Suri grumbled in a bitter tone. It had been a while since she had clapped her eyes on the little village. A time spent among tall buildings, exotic folk and exciting challenges. She had allowed herself to get a little... competitive. But no amount of spirited competition deserved exile from her preferred profession.
The fashion houses of Manehattan, which had once swung wide their doors to welcome her efforts into their collections slammed shut when they heard about her minor indiscretion. But the fabric had been offered! And if she took inspiration from a rival’s work that was in the finest tradition of fashion. She had done absolutely nothing wrong.
It was all because of who she had 'homaged' that they shunned her. That talentless twit, Rarity.
And Coco. Coco had betrayed her to Prim Hemline after all that Suri had done to help her little underling advance in the fashion game. Both bore some portion of the blame, but Rarity most of all, the mewling and scraping nopony from the sticks. Sure, Suri had been from Ponyville too, but she had had the good sense to leave. She had gone where the quality was. She had been certain Manehattan had protectively embraced her.
For all the camouflage she adopted that let her blend into the city, she was still singled out. She had seen many naked examples of 'inspiration' being taken from others, even at that very competition. Certainly, not with as much breadth, but they were there. The cut of a dress, the color scheme, the turn of a hem. It was all there, and all blatant.
They didn't get the ax. Suri got the ax, because she nicked from a high-and-mighty mare who used influence and connections to get her way. Rarity took a good assistant, all Suri's clients, and all of Suri's reputation. Every last bit of it, vanished, thanks to Rarity.
And now the ultimate insult. Suri could no longer afford her place in Manehattan, not even in the districts mostly inhabited by the lower classes. The cost of living in that marvelous city were just too high, especially with only dwindling savings and no prospects in the only sort of job she would ever accept. She had to move back to the sticks, a place she vowed to escape.
More than that, she had to live in the town where Rarity reigned as best beloved queen of all fashion and posh. Rarity was the fanciest, most mannered and classy mare in town, and the pre-accepted fashion plate. They all loved her. But Suri had no choice. She knew the area and with enough pluck could claw out her own niche. (It was also much cheaper.)
She had wired most of her money ahead to put a down-payment on a place, and to have her savings ready for her when she arrived. It left her very little trotting-around money, and thus her situation. Slowly hauling her trunk down the muddy road on the way to her new home. Her old home.
Grunting, she pulled the heavy baggage down the road and through the dropping rain when she became aware of sounds in the darkness. Scuffling. Shuffling. Rustling. It wasn't just the wind from the storm: it was more directed, as though she was being followed.
“Hello? Someone there?” she asked, increasing her accent some. Ponyfolk were often very inclined to help someone in distress if they sounded fancy.
The noises stopped for a moment, which prompted Suri to pull her hood back up. It wouldn't do to present a disheveled appearance. She had to look proper. She could hear voices, talking softly, her ears picking up words like 'fancy', 'lady', and 'stylish.' Suri smiled wider. They knew quality (whoever they were).
“Over here, gentlecolts!” Suri called out, waving a hoof to try and be seen in the darkness. The voices all sounded masculine. Good. Stallions were even more inclined to help mares. She gave a little, facetious laugh that she tried to make sound sincere. “And hurry! We wouldn't want anything to happen to all the treasures in my trunk, mkay?”
“She say 'treasure.' Must be one,” rasped a gruff voice from just out of sight.
“Yes, can only be one we want. Take now!” barked another.
“E-excuse me?” Suri asked. Perhaps she should have phrased that last statement better. They were clearly not the best types. The diction was hideous, almost worse than the Cockney cabbie that had abandoned her here.
A rough cloth sack was thrown over Suri's head suddenly, tearing a scream from her throat as she flailed and kicked wildly. “Control pony! Are biggest!” the first voice cried.
“Not easy! Pony strong,” another voice whined.
The one bearing her shook the bag, making her world go crazy, tumbling and tossing about helplessly. Somewhere behind her and her captor, she heard her trunk being lifted. Both were carried away.
The transit was quick, agile. Whoever they were, they were at least athletic, most likely decently handsome if a bit dumb, going by their speech. Handsome, strong and stupid. Suri could easily seduce that type.
Her situation took a turn for the odd when there was a sudden... drop. There was more than simply going down an incline or a hill, and not even like going down stairs. It was a distinct drop, in short bursts that never really jostled her too badly.
A sudden scent pervaded the bag, once the start-stop falling had ceased. It was the odor of loam, heady and earthy. Given the rain that was hardly a surprise but the way it pervaded the environment indicated she was around rich, fresh dirt. The scent followed her as she was moved through what felt like a twisty, circuitous path.
She was entirely turned around by the time her captor halted. She couldn't have hazarded the slightest guess about the path that would lead back out. There came a general mumbling from the voices she had heard before, as well as a few deeper ones she could just barely discern. It carried on for a bit longer before there came the sound of a figure lumbering away.
She heard her trunk hit the ground, and creak open. That set her to flailing and kicking again. “Get outta that trunk! That's private!”
“Pony not give us orders!” one of her captors screeched. Just the way it was said informed Suri of one thing: her captors were not ponies.
“I'll give you all the orders I want! That is personal! I have stuff in there I need to be keep secret until I line up a deal, m'kay?!” Suri screamed, kicking desperately out to try and at least clip the one holding her.
“Pony clothes and bad attitude. Is pony we want!” the screeching creature said. “Let out of bag.”
Suri found her world turned upside down as she was unceremoniously dumped out of the bag, the dirty ground clapping her back. She looked up into a darkness whose stalactite fangs hung low and hungry, gemstones glimmering eerily in the low light like insidious winking eyes. Out of the bag she could feel a cool, clammy wind sweeping along the passage, as well as the chill of the stone floor.
One tall, lank one. One short, bulky one. And one with a medium build with muscular definition and some decent meat on his bones. All were Diamond Dogs.
“What is the meaning of this?” Suri demanded.
The medium one in a red vest, clearly the leader, screamed at the lank one. “What is...? Thought said was right pony!”
“Sound like pony! Speak pretty, look pretty, female. Easy mistake,” the big one said, giving a disarming smile.
“Not even have horn! Wrong color, wrong hair! Fido have rocks in brain?” The leader asked.
“Rover not speak to Fido like that! Rover is leader but we important too!” the smaller one cried out.
“Spot want challenge for leader spot? Try do! See how far not get!” the one named Rover said with a snarl.
“Nodoggy challenge! Rover stay leader... for now,” Fido said with a deep voice. He then pointed at Suri. “Thought was right pony! Cannot be mad!”
“Now what we do?” Spot queried. The three Dogs slowly cast very dark looks towards Suri.
“Have taken pony, but not right pony,” Rover said.. “Cannot risk pony going home.”
Fido flexed his digits and showed his claws. “We... kill pony?”
The trio went silent, and appeared to contemplate the question. “Never... kill... before,” Spot mumbled.
“Not kill pony before. Rat. Rabbit. Badger. For food. Pony... not food... but dangerous,” Rover said quietly.
Suri had grown from a state of shock to abject panic, rooted to the spot with pure paralytic fear. “N-No! Please don't kill me! I... I can be as good as whichever pony you wanted!”
Rover waved his hand in front of Suri's forehead, reaching for a horn that was not there. “Hah! Pony has no horn! Cannot find gems like one we want!”
“But pony has clothes,” Spot noted, pulling out some of the half-completed samples. “Miss Rarity made clothes...”
“Rarity?!” Suri screeched. Her fear was replaced in a flash with hot-blooded loathing. “You thought I was Rarity?! Get your head examined! Rarity is nothing compared to me, m'kay? I'm better than that cheap poseur!”
The Dogs all gave each other curious glances. They knew that attitude. It was fresh, yet familiar. “But... pony not have horn,” Fido noted. “Cannot find gems...”
“Have gems. Still find with old ways. Would like pony to find gems, but not need,” Rover mused. “But needed Miss Rarity. See, clothes important. Need clothes.” He indicated the roughspun attire he and his subordinates had on. “Dogs good at many things, but not on clothes.”
“That’s a given,” Suri said, her anger turning into professional calm. She cast a sharply critical eye over the collection of slightly-better-than-rags the trio of canids wore. Vests, loin cloths, collars. Basic, boring and badly made. “I'd say you sure need my help! Your clothes look like they'd hurt to wear.”
Rover snarled lightly but let out a small bark. “Know some pony words. Studied when planned to kidnap Miss Rarity. Dog clothes good for Dogs! Work hard, need clothes to work hard. Need designer for clothes with magic gems.”
“...Magic gems, you say?” Suri asked.
“Yes!” Rover said with a sparkle in his eyes. “Not have before, not have equipment. Magic gems for professional Dogs. Make clothes strong, keep body healthy, make claws dig better.”
“My designs have been called magical before,” Suri mused, “but they were never, like, literally magical. This would certainly put me one-up on that stupid clothes-whorse, Rarity.”
“Is settled! You come now! Go to cavern with things!” Rover barked, putting a hand on Suri and pulling her along towards a nondescript tunnel.
“Hey! Paws off! I’m a quality mare, m'kay?” Suri insisted, giving a glare to Rover. “You don't touch me like that.”
“Bah! Pony will do as told. Need proof before we trust. Could leave pony in tunnels,” Rover threatened.
“And don't just call me, 'Pony!'” Suri angrily demanded. “I got a name too, y'know. It's Suri Polomare. You better remember it, m'kay? Coz I'm gonna dazzle you like nopony else could.”
“Suri-pony move now!' Rover demanded, firmly pulling on Suri's back.
“It's a start...” Suri sighed, slowly trotting down the passage.
When she was close enough to Rover she finally caught a whiff of him. He was the one that smelled so strongly of loam. It seemed to be his equivalent of wet doggy smell. As she trotted along, Suri had to note that it wasn't all that unpleasant. It was rich, heady, and perhaps overly powerful. But not unpleasant.
She was led through another confusing tangle of tunnels that the three Dogs could seemingly read like a book. They eventually wound up in a rough-hewn room with vaguely pentagonal walls. A collection of objects had been rather haphazardly thrown together: there was an old hoof-powered sewing machine, a few spindles of thread in various shades ranging from the dull to the garish, a sewing kit seemingly nicked from someone with a little money, several bolts of slightly stained cloth, scraps of rather stained cloth and a large chest of drawers made of stone.
“This where p- Suri-pony work,” Rover said firmly, sweeping his hand to indicate the collection.
“It's no Manehattan, but I'll live. For now...” Suri muttered. “Now about these magic gems...”
“Yes, are here. We keep apart to make easy,” Spot said, the small Dog loping to the chest of drawers and pulling open several of them. Each one contained cut and polished gems, in different cuts and sizes, but each one of the same color per drawer. They all glowed with a magical light the same color as the gem.
“So what do all these things do?” Suri asked. “I don't want to make a mistake and, like, blow you up or something.”
Spot opened each drawer in turn and held up an example of each one. “Ruby warm. Sometimes is cold in winter. Not trouble deep down. For deep down is hot, use sapphire, cool body. Opal for head, protect air supply from rock gas and low air. Beryls make things strong, aquamarine for claws, emerald for clothes, golden beryl for muscles.”
Suri's head swam. “Uh... is there, like, a gemstone guide or something I can work with?”
Rover answered with a rasping laugh. “Suri-pony think Dogs stupid. Dogs know gems, and magic. Can give notes, Suri-pony write down and use.”
Suri recovered with a cough and shake of her head. “Yeah, well... where did all this stuff come from? They seem a little rough.”
“Ponies throw out, Dogs find. Dogs can take and make work,” Fido noted. “Cloth from factory, thread too. Machine not wanted, look in trash. Pretty sewing box... from fancy pony house. And Dogs make drawers.”
“Normally, I wouldn't wanna work with garbage...” Suri started, withering slightly under the sudden, hard gaze of the trio. “But I will! I'll do the work and prove I'm better than Rarity, and totally worth not killing, m'kay?”
Suri slowly drew the measuring tape down Rover's arm, shoulder to wrist. It was like taking a pony's measurement, yet, so unique, suiting perfectly Suri's desire to be the best.
She had been making them outfits for some time that she could loosely pin down to a few months, mostly heavy mining gear, with magical touches to make their jobs easier. She produced gloves with gem tips to more efficiently dig, and bandanas with inset gems to purify the air, and whole outfits designed to keep the body cool and strong. She hadn't worked this hard in a long while. It reminded her of the good old days, before she'd hopped on that train to Manehattan. Before she'd met Coco Pommel. Before she'd become too complacent and lazy and demanding and ruined.
She had been an unqualified success and gotten grudging praise from her captors. For her part, she became less repulsed by them over time. They had stricken an underground hot spring some time before her capture and used it as a means of relieving body aches. The side effect was it kept them clean, though they all smelled like fresh turned earth after a bath. It was rapidly becoming a comforting aroma.
Suri inhaled that rich, warm, and comforting aroma as she drew the tape up Rover's inside leg. She had his measurements. She knew his body well. As the boss he demanded more and fancier clothes than the rest of the crew, and Suri obliged him. She could present her most dashing designs, and use the muscular Dog as a walking canvas.
Her hoof strayed a little close to his single piece of attire and she gave a little shiver. As extra lower-body attire Dogs wore what amounted to a drawstring pouch with straps over their genitals. They had had extras and a need for attire and it became something cultural. Some clothes were just like that.
Her hoof lingered by Rover's endowments, while she glanced blankly at the measuring tape.
“Suri-pony taking long time on leg,” Rover wurfed, breaking the spell.
“Oh! R-Right...” Suri said, absently. “Just imagining what I should do. You need to look good.”
“Always look good. Why am leader,” Rover said with a proud puff of his broad, naked chest. “But Suri-pony make look better. Make best clothes, strongest clothes, all for Rover to use.”
Suri laughed a bit. A strange compliment. But she had learned that for Dogs, strength counted for a lot, given their living arrangements. “It's no Cutter and Tailor review, but at least I get some appreciation for what I do.”
“Need new clothes for spring. Not want be naked with other Dogs,” Rover insisted with a nod. “Know ponies make clothes for water, so want.”
“I'll get to it once I finish the design,” Suri said, turning from Rover with a bit of a blush.
“Good. Want see what Suri-pony make. Always look good,” Rover said, donning his vest and loincloth again before walking out of the cavern.
Suri looked over her notes, eyes barely registering her sloppy mouth-writing. She normally took much more pride in her work, but the realities of her distraction could not be ignored.
There was a lot to distract her when it came to the leader of her captors. Rover was the leader for a lot of reasons, not just his tight musculature which made him stronger than even the burly armored Dogs that kept order and worked as miners. He was as inarticulate as the rest in the pony tongue but he was clearly intelligent and crafty, and knew about things like math and geology. Combined, it made for ideal qualities in a leader.
Suri was down at her worktable, another scavenged piece the Dogs had recovered, working on design sketches. She had grown proficient with drawing a Diamond Dog's generic shape, including breed differences. She could quickly whip up a standing figure. She went a bit further, though, adding details to her drawing to really make it pop. The perked, high and alert ears. The bright, active and large almond-shaped eyes. The cute nose that snuffled continually, seeking gems. The manly chin with modest underbite. It was shaping up to be a good likeness of Rover.
“I can see if it looks good on him...” Suri mumbled, chewing lightly on the edge of her sketching pencil. She carefully sketched in flowing lines, carefully crafting Rover's long and powerful arms. He could crack rocks and shift dirt by the wagon-load, but was quite careful if he had to touch Suri for any reason. She sketched every line of his muscles from memory, thinking well about how each one shifted and bulged when Rover flexed. He wasn't vain in the way ponies could be vain, but he liked to emphasize his great strength and powerful build.
She idly let her sketches flow without fully thinking about it. She had always left a blank space between the legs of her drawings. But she knew what kind of a pouch Rover wore. Her drawing was based in ignorance, as she barely had an inkling of what a Dog might look like. She drew essentially a stallion's equipment, though of a size no stallion had ever offered to her before...
“Food for Suri-pony!” Fido barked, holding up a tray with a chipped porcelain bowl on it.
“What?!” Suri yelped, turning suddenly and covering her sketch with a hoof. “Oh, Fido... you scared me.”
“Sorry,” Fido wuffed contritely. “Have food for Suri-pony.” He set down the bowl which looked to be a watery mix of various leaves, roots, lichens and chopped fungi, including some that glowed.
Suri gave the bowl a sniff and nodded. “Smells good today. Guess you found some licorice roots.” She placed some more papers on top of her pornographic sketch of Rover.
“Glad like. Leave Suri-pony to make clothes,” Fido said with a nod, turning to leave.
“Wait! Uh, stay for a minute, m'kay?” Suri asked, holding out a hoof. “I need to ask you some questions about Rover... for his clothes.”
Fido nodded a bit. “Can stay little while if helps Suri-pony make clothes for boss. He happy?” Fido shrugged. “All happy.”
“Right, yeah so....” Suri thought carefully about her question, tapping a hoof on the table. “What's his favorite color? I've just been using whatever I had on hoof. Does he have any hobbies I could work into this? Is he single or do I need to work in a tribute to his special somep... somedoggy?”
“Rover like red and green, hate yellow,” Fido said while stroking his chin. “Like racing beetles and math problems. Make bet with other Dogs and always win when solve very fast. He not have somedoggy. Always alone. Lead us and focus on work, with rule and square. Not have chance to meet bitches, work too hard.”
A lonely workaholic surrounded by subordinates kept in line with barking efficiency. Suri was either attracted to him or she was him. “I'll be sure to work that into my new designs. If I can. Go on and go where you need to, m'kay?”
“Yes, must go have meal too. Hope Rover like new clothes,” Fido said as he loped out.
“I hope so too...” Suri mumbled as she pulled out the naughty sketch and started drawing clothes on the bare form.
She worked her way through an indistinct time period. Time had little meaning in the tunnels. She kept a clock salvaged from the junk pile, but she didn't bother to check it often. Her body told her when she had to sleep or eat; but she had become an expert at pushing aside the natural needs to meet deadlines or get to a project before anyone else. She would often work until she collapsed. That had been the way before Manehattan, before Coco, before her fall. She found herself awash in a kind of warm and pleasant nostalgia.
That sort of collapse was just what happened. By her own estimation she had been holding on well. She recalled stitching a decorative pattern on a tank top, then became aware of waking up. Her needles had been pushed away from her, the sketches were neatly stacked, and a rough blanket, which she had made, was draped over her, smelling of loam.
She smiled just a bit as she went back to work. She didn't have too much more to do. The advantage of bathing wear was that it was quite brief. Designing for such a small amount of material could be a challenge but making it was easy.
Suri was just putting the covers over the makeshift mannequins when Rover entered, looking stern, imperious, and moist. He had likely just come from the spring. “Clothes are ready? Suri-pony work hard.”
“Oh it was nothing at all, m'kay?” Suri waved a hoof dismissively and pulled on one of the sheets to whip it off. The removal revealed a bright red satin bathrobe, with a vibrant green belt. On the left chest was a stitched design incorporating Rover's name in the Diamond Dog alphabet. “Here's what you wear there and back. Comfy and stylish.”
Rover's eyes went wide and his tail waved rapidly behind him. “Beautiful colors. Make look like pony boss.”
“It's a bit Hoss Hefner, but it seemed right. Next what goes under that...” Suri whipped the cover off of the next mannequin to reveal a red-and-green striped tank top and long shorts of the same type made of the nylon cloth they had recovered from a kite factory. “It's artificial but it resists the water, so you don't get weighed down.”
Rover rubbed it with his fingertips. “Nice. Smooth. Will look important in spring.”
Suri hesitated before she unveiled the last bit. “There's one more. If you want to look even more powerful, and daring...” The cloth whipped off to reveal almost nothing at all. The thong revealed was meticulously designed to contour to what she knew Rover kept in his pouch. The material was thin lycra, which she had been saving for something. She didn't know what, but in the back of her head she had probably been planning something like that.
Rover's eyes bugged out at the sight of the incredibly brief red-and-green garment. “Is... tiny...” He looked over the straps, which would cup between his cheeks and leave his tail free, while cupping and clinging to his package. “Be naked, and not naked. Be big boss dog in spring! Powerful!”
Suri watched Rover pose and flex with some amount of open lust, disguised as simple awe. He was the one that always came in to look at her designs, who approved things, who was the one who had just given her a chance over Rarity. It had been an imperceptible thing, learning to appreciate Rover's strong presence, then to anticipate it, and finally to desire it. “C-could you put that on? I need to make sure... I sized it right, m'kay?”
“Yes, need test...” Rover said. He casually stripped his vest off, more completely revealing the firm slabs of his pecs, which pumped and flexed as he slipped the vest down his long arms. His loincloth slid smoothly down his solid thighs, leaving nothing but the ample drawstring pouch bulging at his crotch.
Suri quickly turned away, a huge blush darkening her cheeks as the pouch hit the ground and Rover took the thong off of the stand. “Just, uh, tell me when you're ready, m'kay?”
“Mm, am ready,” Rover barked.
Suri turned around quickly and had to resist the inclination to drool. He was just as naked as she had seen him when she started. But there was something in the way he was near-nude. The stylish red-and-green material pouching out with the generous genitals within. The lycra formed around the Dog bits, almost showing all the details of the parts. “Looks... snug...” she squeaked out, her thighs squeezing together as her arousal started to rise.
“Is good fit! Like pouch, but not need strings. Not squeeze base and balls. Comfy,” Rover sighed.
“I'm... I'm so glad...” Suri whispered. Clothing was not normal on ponies. It was mostly functional on Dogs. To wear them as an accessory was oddly enticing. She already loved what he had. But seeing him in her designs, flaunting his body, almost only for her, was something else.
Suri didn’t think about the consequences or the interpretations of her actions. She didn't consider the cost of anything, she just did it. She rushed forward and planted her hooves on his shoulders, her lips mashing against his as she gave a quiet moan. The kiss was odd and stiff and awkward, all washed in the heavy, heady scent of wet earth. He wasn't quite resisting but the surprise certainly didn't make him feel very comfortable.
Rover's hands trembled stiffly at his sides, while his pouch more than trembled. The stretchy lycra showed clearly how the thick tube of sheathless flesh twitched and throbbed to life. His lips barely pursed while his wide and staring eyes almost seemed to look past Suri's face. When she pulled away he could barely stammer out, “M-miss Suri...”
“What did you say?” Suri asked, feeling a trifle foolish after the kiss.
“Miss Suri... used to call Rarity Miss Rarity because she was lady. Miss Suri is lady too. Good lady...” Rover said with a blush. “Is kind to Dogs. Work hard, make good things. We have many gems because of clothes Miss Suri makes...”
“I had to prove I was better than Rarity, m'kay? I did it for me,” Suri said with a slight huff. Just hearing it made her cringe. She was still... herself. “But... I'm glad it helped and I'm glad, you know, you... thought I was a good lady.”
“Miss Rarity not... nice to Dogs. Dogs not nice to her. Needed to be good to ponies, and now...” Rover began.
“Now you're at least civil. The kidnapping was a bit much but... I know the drive for revenge,” Suri said, slowly shaking her head. “But let's not think of that now...” she said quickly, slowly letting a hoof stroke over the rapidly-stretching thong. The straps were already pushing slightly out, as the teasing hiding became blatant displaying.
“Has been... long time...” Rover said, almost with a smile. His hands reached behind the straps to stroke and fondle his own partial erection and cup his stones. “Not been with bitch in so long. Work hard, am good boss, would be good for bitch...”
“Eh, been called worse,” Suri said, with a shrug. Her hard look softened as she looked over Rover's charmingly frustrated face. “I'm a mare. And a lady. But... I've been wanting you for a bit too long to care about the niceties. Let's get together and worry about the rest after, m'kay?”
“Yes! Will do this with Miss Suri and show Dogs nice to ponies now!” Rover barked happily, moving the edge of the thong off of his erection and giving Suri the first look at his genitals.
The color of both shaft and balls were like his coat, but darker. As she suspected there was no sheath, but there was also no medial ring or anything else. It was a smooth, fleshy thing, with just a few standing veins. A generous bulge ran up the underside to a rounded head, which was partially enclosed by a ring of wrinkled flesh. The testicles, however, were like others she had seen: each a generous size, hung low in a fuzzy pouch that looked like slightly wrinkled velvet.
Rover gripped his base with one hand, a good portion of the unique shaft still standing proud beyond the meaty grip of his huge hand. “Can mate like Dogs, from back. Is how ponies also do, yes?”
Suri had been transfixed by the revealed genitals. Not only were they bigger than any of the ones she had been previously offered, or taken, they were simply alien to her. Huge and different. Her warm pussy squeezed hard and her juice flowed freely down her thighs. The question snapped her out of her trance and she nodded quickly. “Y-yeah! From behind...”
Rover wasted no time in loping behind her. His face planted itself between her generous cheeks, kept full and wide by proper nutrition and regular feeding. His hands parted the plump posterior as his blunted snout mashed and ground against her dripping sex. He gave her clit a firm press with his broad and manly chin, his nose pushing and flicking over her puffy pucker while his half-open mouth panted huge, hot breaths across her needy sex.
He let the cheeks close around his face just slightly, the warm pressure of the contact making him moan and pant. His wafting, hot breath made Suri groan needfully, and grind her lips back onto his mouth. His tongue responded to the desiring grind, lashing out with typical canine speed, lashing in tingly lines along the swollen and spread lips, lapping up each musky drop of Suri's mare-honey.
Suri's rear legs stepped out, getting her into the proper A-frame position and giving unrestricted access between her plump cheeks. Her passage clamped down on Rover's tongue as the delving Dog shoved his questing muscle down to lick at the heated flesh and drink up the hot juice directly. The rolls and clenches of her passage drew the tongue deep and really got Rover to shove his face tight against her backside.
Rover went along with the pulling for a while, swirling and grinding his tongue all around in the tightly clutching, heated passage, until he pulled it back with a spray of the juice which misted his finely furred face. After a few last swipes of the lips he stood up, his cockhead grinding slowly over the flushed and licked passage. A few prods gave way to a hard thrust and a sudden, rough insertion he marked with a loud, deep bark.
Suri marked the insertion with more of a scream that doubtlessly echoed down the passages, informing the other dogs of exactly what was going on. She didn't care, however: her mind was focused on the great girth of the Dog dong ramming smoothly and effortlessly down her trembling and squeezing passage. She encouraged the penetration, with shakes of her generous rear and cooing moans that contained hot, panting repetitions of Rover's name.
Rover's hands squeezed at Suri's flanks, right over the buttons of her Cutie mark, giving him the grip he needed to draw her ample body back into the muscular thrusts of his hips. The strength he manifested cut through the pleasured squeeze of Suri's sex, each new pull and thrust driving his erection down into her depths.
He hit her bottom with a moist smack, while pressing against the soft swells of her ass let his head just tap at her cervix, a unique experience for both. Suri released a shuddering groan, head dropping low along with her front end, one forehoof scraping along the rocky ground as her body quivered. She tried to hold still, allowing the rolling, rippling and milking walls of her passage to do all the needed work of pleasuring Rover's shaft while the gentle thump of his nuts on her clit pleasured her.
They held together for a long, blissful moment, sharing pleasure from the deep penetration and direct tapping on Suri's pleasure-button. Then the moment was broken when Suri cried out, “Do it!”
Rover obeyed quickly, drawing back his hips a short way and ramming back in, the hard muscles of his hips delivering a stiff spanking to Suri's soft backside. That became the order of the day, the work cavern filled with the lewd sound of furred flesh smacking together, the lighter thump of hanging balls on an engorged clit and the inarticulate groans of the two participants lost in their sexual delight.
Rover 'stirred' his hips slowly each time he quickly yanked his stiff prick from Suri's powerfully clutching depths, flicking her clit a little on the lower part of the stir. His hands eagerly pressed in harder against her plump thighs, squeezing the zaftig curves lovingly. The muscular Dog really seemed to enjoy Suri's abundant roundness. The sensual adoration of her fullness gave his hips more forceful strength and made the ringing slaps all the louder.
The highly eroticized environment, and perhaps some of the taboo nature of their mating, made it a short act for both of them. Suri panted and almost gasped over and over as she reached for a peak, babbling out, “I'm... I'm... I'm...” before letting out a squeal of, “Cumming!” Her passage clamped down like a vise on Rover's organ, making any thrust or withdrawal into a major challenge to his potent muscles.
Rover took the challenge and continued to give what short thrusts he could to work Suri through her orgasm. He didn't cry out in his own peak, but released a deep, powerful, sonorous howl instead, which definitely alerted the other Dogs to what was happening. He slapped his hips down on her ass with a final, solid thwack, the bulge running under his cock swelling and retracting as the waves of cum pulsed through it.
The first load spattered hot and heavy against Suri's cervix, joined quickly by further, less copious spurts that quickly filled her passage and began to seek egress around the substantial plug of Rover's rod. The space within Suri was filled quite completely, and little oozing traces of white showed just slightly at the entrance.
Both of them held position, panting heavily and letting out the last dregs of their moans. Suri's front went all the way down and she rested her head on her forelegs, ass held up mainly by her trembling rear legs and Rover's effort. She sighed heavily and thought about what she had just done. And how much she wanted to do it again. “Well... I think I might want to get to work designing a fancy wedding dress...” she said breathlessly.
Rover, his mind fogged and addled by the best orgasm he had ever had, barely processed the statement before he wurfed out, “But... wedding dress look bad on me...”
Suri gave a gentle laugh and closed her eyes as she head slowly shook. “I know. But you'd better believe it's gonna look good on me, m'kay?”