For the King's Pleasures

by Megapone

For the King's Pleasures

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Twilight Sparkle shrieked.

It wasn't pain. At least, mostly. As juices gushed down her thighs, King—no, Emperor—Sombra licked his lips hungrily. His grip tightened around the horse-sized toy he'd just ripped out from her rear. His little whore was wheezing, moaning, her every muscle vibrating as the pleasure of orgasm coursed through her.

And he hadn't even touched her cunt once.

"My dear Twilight," he crooned. He bent over the bed she was crouched on, low enough for the top side of his flaccid shaft to smoosh against the bottom of the mattress. One big, bulky arm wrapped around the panting mare's side, and he gently pulled her toward him. Twilight Sparkle whimpered.

"Always a whore for anything near your rear end," Sombra chuckled. He hefted the molded cock in his right hand, then slapped it wetly against his pleasure slave's rear. Twilight squeaked—then moaned, eyelids fluttering, as he grinded the lube-slick toy between her magnificent asscheeks. Just as her pants were beginning to mount again, though, he flung it to the ground. It landed on the floor with a weight thwump, and his little slave whimpered again.

"Oh?" Sombra leaned in closer, until he was nearly nuzzling her cheek. He took a deep breath of her scent, tasting it. Dark magic flickered at the corners of his eyes as he tasted also her emotions: fear, pleasure, loathing, lust. Delicious. "You want me, little buttslut?"

Twilight drew in an unsteady breath. "P-please..."

"Please what?" Sombra chuckled again, his deep, rich baritone rumbling above her whimpers. "My dear little slut—you must enunciate." His tongue flickered past his lips, twisting like a serpent's, and he buried his face in her mane. Sparkle moaned under her breath as his fingers groped at her heavy breasts, spidering around her fat, foal-ready nipples. One hand found her belly and squeezed. Good stock, this one. Perhaps he would impregnate her soon after all.

But he'd heard how brilliant she was supposed to be—and how well spoken was the moaning little cunt he felt squirming against his side now, her arms trembling as she tried to resist reaching for the thigh-thick cock draped over the bedsheets. Sombra's lips peeled back, revealing sharpened, predatory teeth. "But no matter. I can tell when my vessels are feeling a bit empty. And I think we've warmed up enough for now."

He jerked his muzzle back—and seized a fistful of her mane in his fist. She gasped as he yanked her backward—and then groaned, lust and hatred swirling in her lungs as her heavy M-cup breasts bounced and slapped against her chest. Sombra's toothy grin widened. He did so love the effect his improvements had on his toys.

"So what do you think?" he hissed, just inches away from her ear. She twisted in his grip, but he didn't give her even an inch. "Shall I give you a stuffing to remember me by?"

"P-please," she stammered. Resignation, hunger, and a horniness beyond any ordinary mare's warred in her eyes. "P-please. I—I need you. M-my..."

"My lord," he purred. "We shall have to work on that."

Her gaze turned downcast. But that was enough for him.

With a deep, masculine grunt, he forced her down to the bed. Head-sized breasts smooshed out over his royal quilt, and a great, wobbling ass pushed up into the air. Twilight Sparkle squeaked as he dug his fingers deep into her rumpflesh. Emperor Sombra leered down at the mare bent prone before him as he massaged his palms against her rear, working the plump, supple flesh there.

"And to think," he rumbled, "that you used to be stick-thin!" He chuckled, a booming, sounding bark of mirth that echoed off the walls of his bedchambers. His slave giggled nervously, but the note of begging hunger re-entered her voice when he smooshed her fat asscheeks together.

"You're bigger now," he murmured in pride and satisfaction. He admired his handiwork: a fat, bouncing ass; a pair of foalbearing hips flaring out a good six inches in either direction; a set of thighs so thick and taut that one could bounce a bit off of them.

He had to stifle another laugh. Oh, yes. He'd certainly be impregnating this one soon.

But that was another time. With an approving smirk, Sombra noted that he was now fully hard. His cock, engorged with blood and magic, lay throbbing between his great pecs. A steady stream of precum ran down his chest and shaft; he bounced his pecs, squeezing his flare between them, and moaned softly as a fresh gush of arousal splattered up against his cheek.

Licking at his own emission, Sombra's grin widened. "Looks like I'm ready for you, dear slut," he boomed. He gave her ass a sway—and then hushed a squeal when he grabbed two generous handfuls of her fat rear. "Hold still."

To her credit, she did. And when he finally felt her thick, puckered ring pressing up against his slit—then parting, her asshole sucking his girth in, Sombra sighed and shuddered with an audible pleasure. He could feel her drinking him in; he savored the release of tension in her body as the first few inches of his length slid inside of her.

But that wasn't fast enough for a ruler's pleasure. With a snarling, bestial roar, Sombra rammed his length inside. His slut cried out, twisting in his grip—but he held her tight to the bed. Her ass flexed, wobbled, caressing his crotch with every tremble of the mare beneath him.

"Now, now," Sombra crooned. He rocked his weight back, then forward. Sparkle moaned aloud, her ass clenching around his girth. Tears had sprung to her ears; he enjoyed watching one roll down the side of her cheek as her asshole groaned and struggled around the sheer girth of his shaft. The toy he'd given her was his biggest: sixteen inches long, and nearly that much around. An average stallion could go his entire life envious of such an endowment; even the horses of Saddle Arabia could respect such a size.

He was a full twenty-four inches hard—and thick.

Her walls flexed, cool slickness wrapping around his member. "You want me?" Sombra growled. He gave his hips another jerk, and Sparkle cried out. "Then take me!"

He rammed his weight into her, again and again. Blood and power and lust roared in his ears as he fucked her like the broodmare she was. Twilight Sparkle squirmed, then groaned, then sobbed, then moaned, all the while squirming beneath his weight as he leaned into her whorish ass. Great testicles, each the size of a grapefruit, bounced off her fleshy rump with each thrust, every slap beating along to the drumbeat of his throbbing heart.

Sombra's nostrils flared. With a shrieking whinny, he seized his slut's mane again and yanked her head back. Twilight cried out—but Sombra held tight, thrusting into her again and again and again. Her fat booty flexed, wobbled, rippled, the fingers of his off hand sinking deep into the supple flesh they found there, each thrust exposing new depths and crevices of the toy beneath him.

She was so cool—and yet so hot. Weeping, and yet moaning, begging for more. He dove forward, chomped around her ear. She twisted, but he held her fast to his chest as he groped her fat tits and drove his length into her over and over again. His balls were growing heavier, their contents sloshing more weightily with every thrust. The pressure was mounting. He was so close, so close, so close

With a roar as primal as a dragon's, he unleashed his full load inside of her. His well-endowed buttslut gasped—and then moaned, a low, wailing sound as pint after pint of hot, virile seed splashed against the walls of her insides. Sombra's thrusts went wild, his massive nuts unleashing every thick rope of their gooey load inside of her, each meaty slap of his sack against her rear only driving the pressure higher.

It was only when her stomach was rounded, bloated with the volume of his seed, that Sombra's climax finally tapered to an end. The little purple slut moaned, collapsing fully to the bed. Sombra grunted, then yanked his cock free. A cascade of his spunk followed after—though not enough to appreciably drain the beach ball-sized bump in his slut's belly.

He exhaled, then smirked. Grinning ferally, he placed a hand on Twilight's cum-bloated gut and pressed—only gently. She whimpered, squirming beneath the weight—but she was moaning, too. He saw fresh juices dripping down her thighs, nectar glistening where she'd stained the bed with her own climax. He sneered. Horny little cunt.

"I've made my decision," Sombra intoned. He pressed further down on her rounded midsection, and savored her weak little moan. Oh, what a delight it was to feel his cum sloshing around inside of her! He wondered just how her stomach would manage to digest it all—and whether it might not go to exaggerating her curves just a bit further.

"Wh-what?" Twilight croaked. It was obvious that she was struggling to get the words out.

Sombra's sharp teeth glinted. He stroked her belly with a thumb, loving how just a single load of his cum could give her such a delicious overhang. Oh, yes. She'd look lovely waddling throughout his palace, balancing her weight around a bellyfull of spunk—and a bellyfull of his offspring.

"You shall be my next broodmare," he promised. "Tomorrow. In this bed." His pointer finger dug playfully into her bellybutton, just enough to let her feel it. "And then—we shall see how you bear the young of the Emperor."

She gasped for air—and then fell still, shuddering faintly. A glance downward showed that she'd orgasmed again, and at his words alone. Sombra's grin widened.

Good. He'd always liked an enthusiastic mare.