The Brutal and Wildly Grotesque Practices of the Illegal Adult Film Industry, and What Happens When Nothing is Sacred

by Shamefurrdishpray

Rating: mature
Tags: Original Character, Porn, Fetish, Profanity, Non-consensual, Violence, Sex, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Death
Length: 9178

Everyone is always looking for the next best thing when it comes to adult film. There's money in doing something new, and there's money in performing the bizarre and and grotesque. There is a niche audience for everything. Either way, it's fucked up.

Everyone is always looking for the next best thing when it comes to adult film. There's money in doing something new, and there's money in performing the bizarre and and grotesque. There is a niche audience for everything. Either way, it's pretty fucked up.

WARNING: This story is fucking gross. It's written entirely to fulfill some pretty fucked up shit. Read at your own risk. I'm not fucking around.

Contains: Vore Cock Vore Digestion Literally cumming the half-digested remains of a pony into another pony Rape and a general lack of any moral decency whatsoever

Published 2018-01-22 00:20:06 UTC
Last updated 2018-01-22 00:20:06 UTC

The Brutal and Wildly Grotesque Practices of the Illegal Adult Film Industry, and What Happens When Nothing is Sacred

The building was completely inconspicuous from first glance, but that was to be expected. It was surprisingly easy to hide an illegal porn studio right in the middle of the Baltimare downtown district; just knowing of its presence left one to wonder what else the city could be hiding. For all Lance knew, he could have been walking by a pedophillia organization, a black market, a cock fighting ring, several different taxless liquor stores, and an illegal casino, all on a single stroll through the city. Some part of him was obligated to be concerned about that, considering that he was a member of the solar guard, but also considering his hobbies and pastimes, it was best to keep his nose out of the business of other delinquents.

Extra jobs on the side were generally discouraged by the royal guard, however, the bigwigs in charge had to specifically go out of the way to discourage such things because of the sad fact that being a guard just didn’t pay enough. The pay wasn’t bad, but considering the time and labor that went into such a job, it left more to be desired in a paycheck. Lance, while a relatively cheap stallion, had found himself in a rather peculiar circumstance.

His wife was divorcing him. Maybe it was the fact that she was sure that he’d cheated on her... He had. Maybe it was the fact that he had a strange habit of gaining and losing weight rather quickly. Maybe it was the fact that he had eaten her best friend and she could somehow just sense it. Okay, in all Honesty, Lance deserved the divorce; even he could admit that he was an absolutely terrible husband, but the bitch was going right after his wallet. She’d seized it with lawyers and attorneys and now she was tugging for a garnishment of his future wages. He’d briefly debated eating her, but that would arouse too much suspicion. When a wife went missing in the middle of a divorce, all eyes turned towards the husband, and considering that ponies tended to disappear around Lance as it was, the last thing he wanted was heat on the back of his neck.

The large earth pony did his best to look nondescript as he paced towards the building at the end of the street, though that was somewhat difficult when you stood a full head taller than the average stallion and had a pair of shoulders wide enough to intimidate a refrigerator. The fear factor of him in armor was great, and the guard loved using it to their advantage, but the problem with his size was that ponies would stare in public. He wasn’t quite abnormally large, not a hey-honey-look-at-that-huge-freak kinda large, but more of a what-did-they-feed-you-in-school large. His dirty-white coat was still rough in spots where his armor had been resting, and he carried a scent of sweat about him, the smell of a stallion who’d showered in the morning but spent the day working. His blueish-silver mane hung messily around his eyes and neck, giving him a generally ratty-yet-charming look, an oversized Aladin of sorts, minus all of the redeeming personality traits. Had a strong look about him, the look of a stallion who worked hard every day but also liked his food. Lance carried a bit of a gut, and some extra weight around his barrel and haunch, enough to conceal the strong muscle below it and enough to make him look just a little bit soft. He wasn’t even a dad, and he was rocking the dad bod—an unfortunate side-effect of his diet.

The weather-worn sign hung just above the door, lit up in the darkness of the late evening by several light bulbs above the lettering. “Deep Tissue Massage and Acupuncture.” There was a single light on inside, in the back hall, and despite the fact that the sign on the inside of the door had been turned to the ‘closed’ position, it was unlocked.

Lance pushed his way inside.

He hadn’t actually gone looking for this job. It had found him! To make a long story short, he had... well, eaten, a certain mare, who apparently, had been rather large in the indy film business. Her producer had been under the impression that she’d bailed after taking payment for services which she had not yet rendered, and hired a private investigator to track down her whereabouts.

Lance had received a letter in the mail. It was a long, flamboyantly worded letter, but to summarize, the gist of it had been. ‘you killed my actress, she owed me money, but you’re big and just the thing I’m looking for, so you either work for me, or you’ll get a nice job at the prison laundromat.’ Needless to say, a guard on the inside never had a fun time, so Lance was rather inclined to take the deal.

Best damn deal he’d ever taken!

Once under the single light in the back of the shop, past all the acupuncture tables and massage chairs, Lance raised his hoof and gave a good, solid rap on a metal door that had been installed in the hallway. There was a second of silence, then the slit at eye-level was drawn open to reveal two green eyes and part of an orange face. “What’s the password?” the stallion inside said in a pack-a-day voice.

Lance rolled his eyes, having to stoop down a little bit to peer through the little slot. “You know who I am. Open the damn door.”

The stallion inside hesitated briefly, then came the sound of a heavy bolt sliding. “You’re five minutes late.”

“Sue me,” the large earth pony droned, pressing inside as the door was drawn open. It was swiftly swung shut and re-bolted behind him once he was through, the orange pony resuming his vigil, leaving Lance to descend a dark staircase that led to the basement.

After only a session or two, Lance had come to realize that he was irreplaceable to the ponies who ran this little gig. Every time the producer looked up at him, a smile crossed his face, and dollar signs chachinged in his eyes. Really, Lance couldn’t blame him; if his commission for the time he spent on camera was any indication as to what the snuff film industry was worth, then it was worth a whole metric fuckton. And apparently, big, dominating stallions were in very high demand.

Bright light spilled out from under the door at the foot of the stairs into the grungy hallway, and muttering voices could be heard on the other side. Lance paused briefly just in front of the door to get an idea of the mood inside the room, then pushed inside.

Brilliant light immediately met his eyes, and he winced, raising a forehoof to shield his pupils from parcans on the ceiling as he stepped forward. Immediately, all the muttering and murmuring in the room stopped, and the large earth pony could feel dozens of eyes on him. Once he’d adjusted enough to the light to be able to see again, the room came into focus. The side of the room closest to the door was bare concrete, the walls lined with acoustic foam, wires running up and down them every which way, as was the left side of the room, but the right corner, a space roughly fifteen feet square, was what appeared to be a cutaway of a fancy bedroom. Red wallpaper with golden, floral trim had been hung, and the floor was blue shag carpet. A brown, faux-leather couch rested in the far corner, pressed up against the back wall. In front of it was an old coffee table that had been nice at some point in its life, but had seen one too many cups without coasters over the years, and across from the coffee table was a matching armchair and ottoman.

There were three expensive-looking cameras surrounding the little corner set, film reels primed and ready to roll, and lights mounted on the ceiling lit the whole thing brilliantly.

“Lance!” an ecstatic voice called. A rather short brown unicorn burst out of a mirrored booth in the opposite corner from the set, trotting towards him with a little bounce in his step, his curly, sandy-brown mane bobbing up and down with every movement of his, his tangled rug of a mustache acting similarly. “How do you like the new set?”

Lance sat back on his haunches and took a long look over at it. “Blue carpet, Shag?” he droned, quirking a brow.

The little stallion, Shag, rolled his eyes. “What, I fished it out of the dumpster behind the Bed Bath and Beyond. It’s not like I can just stroll inside and ask them what color they think would go best with vore.”

Lance held his hoof out, then took a few steps towards the set. “Yeah okay, I got it.” He glanced around the room. There were at least ten other ponies milling about. He knew three of them—two of the camera operators and the sound tech. “What’s with the audience?”

Shag beamed up at him. “That’s exactly it. They’re an audience.” He leaned in close, standing on the tips of his hooves to get as close to Lance’s ear as possible, then lowered his voice to little more than a gravelly whisper. “They’re distributors. If they like what they see they’re gonna buy tapes in bulk. We’re talking big time here, black market’s in Prance, Germane! No more of this shitting where we eat distribution. Keeps your face off the streets too.”

Nodding some, Lance sat back on his haunches. “How much?”

“I don’t know, thousands maybe.” He sniffed at the air, then grimaced a little bit. “Whew, you fuckin’ reek.” His grin widened some. “Good. It’ll show up on her face when you’re fucking her. All those freaks who watch these videos love that shit.”

Lance frowned, looking down and over at Shag. “Wait, I thought I was here for a vore shoot?”

Somehow, Shag’s grin was still widening. “You are, but we got someone for you to fuck after. This is gonna be big. Like I said, that’s why there’s an audience.” A stallion wandered by with a catering tray, and Lance took a paper cup of coffee as he passed. He blew on it, then took a sip while Shag went on. “I told them you’re the best. Oh, by the way, have you ever tried sounding?”

Lancer hacked on his coffee, spluttering, spitting a half mouthful back into the cup before turning to look at Shag with narrowed brows. “No!”

Shag gave him a hearty punch on the lower shoulder. “I got my hooves on some Germane vore tape last week, right? I watched this stallion shove a guinea pig, a whole fucking guinea pig down his dick. It made me cringe, but my dick was slapping my belly for the next two days every time I thought about it. Now he was normal size. But you, you’re huge!” He looked excited enough to actually start vibrating a hole through the floor. “Now eating a pony whole sells good, but this cock vore thing, it’s gonna be the fucking shit. You’ll be a rockstar. Nono, no, you’ll be the rockstar!” He waved his right hoof through the air, then settled it on Lance’s shoulder.

Lance chewed the inside of his cheek as he thought about it. Could he? He’d never even thought about it before. It seemed possible. “So... what?” he said after a moment, letting out a little snort of laughter. “You got like... a guinea pig in a cage back in your office or something?”

Shag really did start to vibrate. “We’re not in the bestiality business, Lance; we only deal in ponies.” He stood suddenly, then turned and scampered back to where the mirrored booth was. “Okay everypony!” he yelled. “Quiet on set, we roll in two minutes. Cameras, make sure you have new reels ready to go!” He glanced briefly to Lance. “Get on set, sit in the chair, legs spread, let the cameras get that good establishing shot. You need someone to help you get your dick out?”

Snorting, Lance turned and started for the set. “Since when have I ever needed that?”

“Oh right!” Shag called back, leaving the office door open as he pressed inside. “I forgot. You’re a real killer!”

Lance felt the heat of the lights on his coat the second he stepped onto the set, and with a casual groan, he flopped back in the leather armchair. Through the blinding lights, he could see ten or so ponies sitting in chairs behind the cameras, watching him with casual or bored expressions. Smirking just a little to himself, Lance leaned back and spread his hind legs, showing of a thick, fat sheathe, already swollen a little bit in anticipation, and a heavy pair of melon-sized balls between his legs. He truly was hung like an earth pony, another particular reason he fit in so well in the porn business.

Getting comfortable, he wiggled back and forth a little bit, then let his left hoof creep down some to brush at the side of his sheathe, earning a twitch from it. The charcoal-black flare of his member was already starting to show. This part always made him a little antsy. Lance wasn’t quite sure if it was an ego trip, or what, but the thought of hundreds, possibly thousands of ponies potentially seeing him in action drove him wild. He was showing off the best parts of him to anyone who cared to see.

“Okay, and remember, cameras!” Shag called, coming back out of the office dragging a cart. “He won’t be ingesting anyone orally, so keep all the shots close, and right on the action. His face won’t be appearing at all in the final cut. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you all that this is illegal, so there’s no point in showing him if we don’t have to.” He looked back into the office. “Ember!” he shouted.

Lance watched curiously as an average-sized amber-colored mare stepped out of the back office. She seemed somewhat timid, either new to this, or aware of what was going to be happening. She had long, auburn hair, her mane hanging down past her shoulders. She wasn’t bad looking, though she also wasn’t quite pornstar material. Lance smirked at her nonetheless, then spread his legs a little bit wider, showing off the fat shaft that was currently lying limp along his belly.

She glared at him for a second, then huffed and strode forward.

“Okay, Ember, hun,” Shag said in a low voice. “Roll that cart out there, say, ‘hey big guy, I got that snack you wanted,’ then pull off the sheet. Improv everything else. I want this to feel real.” He stepped back, then made a swift gesture to the camera operators. “Three!”

Lance eyed the cart, biting the bottom of his lip as he readied himself. His dick was almost to full mast, and it was growing swiftly, throbbing with his heartbeat, the thick, virile scent of his arousal seeping into the air. Whatever was below the sheet on the dining cart that Shag had wheeled out was wiggling restlessly, squirming about.

“Two!” Shag called, motioning to Ember. Ember started forward with the cart and Shag mouthed the word ‘one,’ then gave a sharp wave of his hoof across the room, and the three cameras clicked on, the reels starting to spin.

They were live! Lance was acutely aware of two cameras pointed directly at his dick, while the third tracked Ember into the scene.

“Hey big guy!” the mare oiled in her best porn voice. It was... okay, but it sounded too forced. If this were a real life scenario, she most certainly wouldn’t be turning him on. “I got that snack you wanted.” Putting on a big, corny grin, she wheeled the cart right up to the side of Lance’s armchair, then grabbed the sheet and gave it a hearty pull.

Lance couldn’t stop the look of shock that washed over his face as he looked down at his meal-to-be. It was a pegasus mare, dark blue coat, red and yellow mane and tail... and the smallest damn mare he had ever seen. She wasn’t a foal, he could tell by her eyes and muzzle—they were matured for the most part, but she was just... small. Compared to Ember, who was a mare of normal size, the pony hogtied on the food trolley was probably a full head shorter. Compared to Lance, who already towered over Ember she was... his dick was longer than her torso, and just about as thick as it was too. She had been gagged, though not blindfolded, and wide, terrified yellow eyes peered up at him as the little mare shook like a leaf.

Ember glanced away uncomfortably. Getting her back on track, Lance leaned forward to grab the mare by her left hoof and guide her between his hind legs. The mare took the hint and leaned heavily on his left thigh, starting to stroke his beast of a shaft while her other hoof played with his balls.

The more Lance looked at that little blue pegasus, the more he was sure he could stuff her down his cock, and his mind started to wander to all sorts of places. His stomach rumbled, and somewhere in him was the urge to just... pick her up and swallow her whole. It would be so easy, one, maybe two gulps.

Curious as to just where Shag had gotten this mare, he glanced up to the director, but the stallion was entranced. His smile was wide below his mustache, and he gave his head a firm and vigorous nod, motioning for him to go on. Lance did. Ember’s stroking, combined with the excitement of this weird new thing he was about to try, had gotten his length as stiff and as hard as it could ever get, the flare drooling a thin line of pre that ran down the side of his shaft in a rolling bead. With his left hoof, he grabbed the mare’s hogtied forehooves, then lifted her up as easy as one would pick up their favorite stuffed animal. The mare screamed into the ball gag that was strapped around the back of her head, and Lance felt his cock twitch and slap against his belly. He could feel excited sweat forming on his inner thighs and gut, along his spine, his brow.

Shag waved for his attention, and Lancer cast his eyes to the energetic unicorn.

“Head first!” he mouthed loudly, using his entire upper body to accentuate his syllables. Lance licked his lips at the mare, peering down into her eyes. She stared back in pleading terror. He shrugged his shoulders in a sorry-not-sorry gesture, then grasped her sides with both forehooves and turned her over. Ember seemed to understand what was going on, and despite the look of apprehension on her face that the cameras couldn’t see, she lifted his cock and held it still for him with both hooves.

Once again, Lance was left to marvel at the sheer size difference between them as he pressed the squirming pegasus’ nose against his flare. He was pretty sure that the head of his dick was bigger than the head on her shoulders.

Sliding his left hoof up to hold her by the ropes that bound her hind legs together, Lance wrapped his powerful hoof around the little mare’s neck and pulled down on it, mashing her face into his flare, wincing just a little bit at the uncomfortable tingle as the ball gag spread his pre-slicked cockslit. For a moment or two he was worried it wouldn’t work, though after a moment of pressing and grinding, he felt a strange... wonderfully fulfilling sensation as his slit stretched to accompany the tiny mare’s muzzle, gag and all. Lance watched in a combination of awe and raw arousal, his hoof instinctually pulling harder on the base of her skull as his cock flexed and slurped her down right to where her muzzle met her head. The little mare started to thrash and wiggle like a fish, wings struggling to flare around the length of twine that held them shut. Her eyes were wide open, looking down his cock like it was the barrel of a gun. Lance couldn’t help a moan, and he gave a needy roll of his hips, accompanied with a press down on the back of her head that stretched his flare right up and over her eyes, quickly reaching the widest point of her head. He took a few panting breaths, trying to get himself under control. He was so aroused that he was actually starting to shake. Every little movement the pegasus made sent electric bolts of pleasure to his brain. It wasn’t just a mental kick for him, it was a physical one.

He moved his hoof from her head to her waist, then thrust up, letting out a feral moan as his cock forced her ears flat to her head and sucked the entire thing in, sealing around her neck with a wet slurp and a muffled, barely-heard scream from the mare.

Face a little bit red, Lance looked up at Shag, who was standing stone still, eyes as wide as saucers, pupils for dollar signs while his mottled, brown dick bobbed between his legs, dripping pre to the ground with a gentle ‘plap’ ‘plap’ ‘plap.’

“Stroke it,” Lance said in a husky voice, shooting Ember a harsh look. The mare, who had stopped her motions in favor of balking, quickly started up with her hooves once more, drawing them up and down his twitching shaft.

Pre seeped from around the mare’s head, lathering up her coat so that Lance could push her further, and push he did. The large earth pony was in the zone now. He’d never done this before, but it felt amazing. He was sure that a mare any larger than this may prove to be too much for him, but this little pegasus was just the right size. He inhaled a long breath, then let it out as a shaky, vocalized exhale while pushing down with his forehooves on her little form, stuffing her head further down his shaft, nothing more than an undefined lump below the flesh as his slit swallowed up her neck and his flare pressed against her shoulders. Lance bit his lip and worked her back and forth, twisting a little to the left, to the right, then gave an almighty push and a loud, throaty moan as her shoulders were sucked in with a wet, grotesque ‘schlurp.’ He squeezed her wings, making sure they were tight against her back so that his slit could stretch to take them in as well, and the sensation of her feathers brushing against the sensitive flesh inside his length drove him to shiver. He rocked his hips back and forth, up and down, the gentle back and forth motions feeding her slowly into his length like someone shaking a pillow into a pillowcase.

That bulge that was the little mare’s head travels deeper, and deeper, pressing past his medial ring and stretching it out as his slit hungrily slurped over the mare’s naval, leaving little more than her rump and thrashing hind legs. His dick twitched and throbbed, wiggling back and forth with the movements of the little mare within, who was still struggling like it would somehow do her good. Ember seemed somewhat hesitant to touch any part of his cock that was swollen with the pegasus, so with a roll of his eyes, Lance took her hoof in his own and pulled it up his length, forcing her to stroke over the bulge of the mare’s head, then right up the stretched shaft. Lance moaned at the sensation, his dick giving a firm, hearty throb, and when that throb was finished, the little mare was sucked in another inch. Her head was nearing his groin now, and Lance found himself briefly wondering what would happen when it got there.

The cameras rolled all the while, and every single member in the audience was watching with some sort of shock, amazement, or horror on their faces. No matter how they felt about it, though, they knew what audience they were selling to, and this would sell better than beer at a music festival.

Lance was getting carried away. At this point he wanted— No, he needed her inside him, needed the relief of her weight settling inside his body. Taking a firm hold of both her hind legs, Lance gripped hard and shoved down, throwing his head back, moaning and thrusting his hips as his slit spread to suck up her rump, his cock enveloping her marehood in some freaky form of fucked up, backwards nature. His teeth chattered together and he took deep, panting breaths as the lump of her head stretched out his sheathe, then disappeared into his groin completely as his cock slurped down her hind legs, first her thighs, then her knees. He grabbed the end of the knot that held her hind legs together with the tip of his forehoof, undoing it and tossing it lazily aside. Bringing the very same hoof back to her legs, he pressed the tip of it against her hooftips and pushed down with a grunt.

Lance wasn’t expecting an orgasm, or at least, what felt like an orgasm. He stiffened up and let out a literal snarl of pleasure as his cock twitched and flexed, every jerk of the massive spire of meat gulping the mare down another inch, until the flare finally closed around her the tips of her hooves, leaving nothing exposed to the air but a four inch strand of her red and yellow tail. Lance held a death grip on the arms of the chair, trembling from head to hoof as he rolled and thrust his hips, not a single drop of cum escaping him in what he realized was some form of orgasm denial. He shuddered and shook and groaned and twitched for at least seven seconds, going limp after a moment or two, damp with sweat now, heaving for air. Ember had backed away a step and a half, staring with wide eyes as his sack, now heavy with the shape of the little mare who’s rump still had yet to exit his shaft, the outline of her barrel bulging in his groin. With both forehooves, Lance gripped his shaft and squeezed, forcing the mare down the rest of the way, massaging her down his shaft like someone trying to work the last drops of toothpaste to the end of the tube. He still shook like a leaf, feeling hornier, more aroused than before his fake orgasm.

It only took a matter of seconds for him to hungrily squeeze her down, the bulge of her rump swelling past his sheathe. Once that was through, his sack dropped with a bounce and a jerk as she completely slipped into it, the furry flesh stretched thin, showing her every little feature inside as Lance laid his head back on the back of the chair with his mouth wide open in bliss. He had to do this more often.

Ember gave her head a little shake, a daunted, somewhat horrified look crossing her face as she looked back towards Shag, who, upon seeing the look on her face, started to look horrified himself, albeit for an entirely different reason.

“I’m done,” she said after a moment, giving her head a second, more emphatic shake. “This is fucked up, dude. I’m out.”

Frowning, still drooling a little from the corner of his mouth, Lance lifted his head up from the armchair, a shudder traveling through his body as the wriggling and kicking from the mare in his sack ensured that his dick stayed at full mast, literally throbbing with immediate need.

Shag glanced around at the camera operators, and the two ponies holding boom mics, the waved his hoof in a small circle. “Just, keep rolling. We can edit this part out.”

“No!” the mare insisted, stomping her hoof on the shag carpet, to little dramatic effect. “This is fucked! I don’t give a shit what you’re paying.”

“Keep rolling, Shag said through his teeth, eyes flicking about nervously, briefly lingering on the studio audience in the back who all seemed intensely interested in the whole affair. The unicorn stepped forward, blocking the mare’s exit from stage by rearing up some on his hind legs and stepping to the right as she tried to skirt around him. “You can’t leave in the middle of a shoot. We can work something out!” His voice was more insistent, less pleading and more threatening in nature as he looked over her right shoulder at the reclining, but attentive Lance.

Lance looked back, a small frown crossing his face as he glanced between Shag and the back of the mare’s head. He quirked a brow at his producer and director, then twitched and fought back a moany shudder as little mare in his sack let out a deeply-muffled scream and thrashed herself back and forth, hooves pressing outwards against the flesh. Logically, it should have hurt—it didn’t make sense for it to not hurt; there must have been some sort of magic at play. With a barely suppressed whine, he moved his left hoof to his bobbing shaft, tracing his frog along the top as it throbbed and pulled up against it.

Shag caught Lance’s eye, a grim look briefly crossing his features before he shrugged and stepped back, dropping back down to all fours to step away from Ember, who was still standing just at the edge of the carpet, seething. “A great thing about being in the porn business,” he said with a small shake of his head, glancing briefly towards the audience and letting out a small, bitterly-amused chuckle. “Aside from the occasional romp with a star...” He chuckled again, this time a little more genuinely.

Lance leaned forward slowly, quietly, one of the cameras tracking his movements. Shag was watching him as well, though in brief, short little glances over the mare’s shoulder. Lance tilted his head, frowned, then gestured towards the mare with a small toss of his head. Shag gave the smallest of reaffirming nods.

“...is that no matter what happens.” He took a half step towards the mare, who was looking a tense combination of worried and furious. “And the content is good, you can still sell it as a specific fetish.” His eyes jerked to Lance as the massive earth pony stood, looming behind Ember, approaching slowly. The collective audience seemed to hold their breath. “Everything is a fetish. So no matter how far off course a shoot goes, there’s still a market.”

Lance had to fight the urge to moan as his heavy sack dangled below him, the scrotum stretched, the squirming mass of flesh within swinging too and fro, bumping against his inner thighs. He was within lunging distance of the mare now, and with a shuddery exhale, he glanced to Shag for his next instruction.

The little unicorn gave a single, firm nod. “Grab her.”

Looking back over her shoulder, Ember had just gotten out the start of a protest when Lance’s massive hoof wrapped around the front of her neck and pulled her vertical and back against his chest. Immediately, she kicked, headbutting his chest a couple of times, almost hitting him in the jaw. “No way!” she yelled, gnashing her teeth at Shag. “No fucking way!”

Shag flopped back on his rump with a heavy sigh, snatching up a small facial rag from a nearby cart and dabbing it across his brow, cleaning himself of nervous sweat. “It’s fine. Non scripted, redroom-esque scenes are big right now, we can thank the Germanes for that with all that Celestia damned dungeon porn.” He dabbed the rag down his neck, then proceeded down further, dabbing the sweat from his belly and inner thighs, before draping the white rag over the base of his mottled dick, which was still standing proud, cleaning it of the excessive precum that had been drooling down the shaft with an upwards stroke.

Lance may have been obligated to feel sorry for the mare if he wasn’t horny enough to fuck anything with a pulse. Judgement, or morals in general were completely clouded by lust as he waddled backwards with Ember in his grasp, the mare fighting for a few seconds before going limp and opting to just scream. Lance, and everyone else in the basement studio winced as the shrill sound cut through the air. She screamed until she was out of breath, then gasped for another before going right back to screaming.

“Can we shut her up!?” Shag yelled? “Someone get me a gag, a rag, anyth—” He paused, glancing briefly down at the precum and sweat-damp rag he held in his right hoof. He blinked, then balled it up and shrugged, levitating the rag over to Lance on set, who snatched it out of the air, frowned, sniffed at it, glared at Shag for a second, then stuffed it in Ember’s wide open mouth, muffling the sound from her gullet almost immediately.

At this point, he couldn’t have waited any longer even if he was being told to. Hefting the mare up like a toy, Lance swung her around and slammed her down belly-first over the arm of the couch, her chest on the cushions and her ass in the air, kicking hind legs dangling as he settled his full weight down atop her with a needy moan, his hips already thrusting while his throbbing cock stabbed and prodded at her rump. He missed three times, the first thrust slipping between her legs, the seconds glancing off her left cheek, and the third sliding up her crack to squish against her dock. Huffing in mild frustration, Lance pressed down harder on the mare’s spine with his right hoof while he pulled his left in and took a firm hold on the crease between her barrel and her left stifle.

His fourth thrust was right on point, the broad, throbbing flare of his oversized member squishing right up against her barely-wet folds before popping into her with a groan of pleasure from Lance and a scream of fury and pain from the muffled mare. His heavy sack swung, taking a couple of kicks from Ember’s thrashing hind legs, though to his surprise, they didn’t hurt.

He plunged as deep as he could into her in one, powerful thrust of his hips, sinking his cock right down into the smaller mare until his flare mashed up against her cervix and his medial ring kissed her clit. Lance moaned, the sound tense, and almost pained as his cock throbbed deep in the mare. He humped her, grinding his sweat-damp belly against her back as he held himself as deep as he could while still roughing himself back and forth, his massive, still squirming sack thumping against the edge of the couch.

Something felt different, though. The mare inside wasn’t kicking nearly as hard as she’d been before—if anything, her movements now were little more than a weak wiggle or a desperate outwards press of her forehooves every now and then. She felt... softer as well, the detailed outline of her form having lost quite a bit of it’s refined shape as what he could only assume was liquid filled out around her. There was another scream, this one just as muted and muffled as before, though it came in rapid bursts of sound, akin to the illusion of someone screaming from underwater.

Ember showed her protest of the act in every way she could, her eyes watering as she screamed around and gagged on the musky rag in her mouth, one forehoof pinned below her belly, the other splayed out on the couch as Lance started to get into it. The large stallion didn’t spare any time in getting down to rutting her, and once he’d properly soaked his dick, he yanked back and went to town. Every thrust was firm and hard, finishing with the heavy clap of his full balls against her hind legs and the meaty impact of his flare on her cervix. Ember shivered and shook with every thrust, heaving, gasping, groaning.

Lance wasn’t quite sure when the tunnel vision started to set in, but all of a sudden, nothing around him mattered; the most important thing to him in that moment was getting himself off. There was a feeling in his gut, a need, a desperate desire to reach climax that he couldn’t quite explain. He couldn’t even begin to remember the last time he’d felt his way, the last time he’d actually been aroused enough to need an orgasm.

Every powerful thrust forward saw his flare thudding painfully against the mare’s cervix, shortly followed by the heavy thump and slap of the weight dangling below his legs against Ember’s hind legs and the side of the couch. Whatever was left of the little mare inside was being utterly pulverized by the impacts; she wasn’t moving any longer, hadn’t been for a short while now, and the small mare’s form was no longer discernible as a single object, but rather, a dispersed lumpy collection of bits within his sack.

Sweat continued to bead on his brow and along his belly as he ground it against her lower back with every hard thrust forward, the couch creaking and groaning from the assault. Despite the fact that Ember wasn’t aroused with the situation, his cock was slick with a combination of precum and her natural secretions, dripping, spattering the messy concoction with every sharp withdrawal of his hips. His size, of course, wouldn’t allow him to even dream of bottoming out in the smaller mare, though he could get somewhat close if he forced himself, just a little beyond the medial ring. It was a brutal treatment, one Shag would have never allowed him to give to any of their mares if he had intended on keeping them. Ember jerked and twitched and screamed around the rag in her mouth every time he landed a thrust, her face red, eyes tearing up in pain. This was what directors in the industry called a career ender—when a mare is fucked so hard by someone too big, that she likely won't ever be right again.

The camera operators were silent, stiff as boards as they held the scene in focus, while the studio audience further back all did their best to not look interested to one other, while also being wildly interested.

Lance snarled against the back of Ember’s neck as he hunched over her, taking a firm grasp on both of her shoulders and slamming himself forward. She whimperscreamed in pain and he let out a feral, half yell, half growl as he switched from long, deep thrusts, to a rough forward humping that lifted her haunches up into the air with the sheer force his length was exerting on her smaller form. His beast of a cock throbbed, twitched, gave a powerful flex that caused the whole mare’s rump to jerk upwards, and then that was it for him.

His left hind leg skittered out some on the carpet as he stiffened up like a board, his right one digging in for a final, forceful push and a grind that saw his swelling flare more or less obliterate the little mare’s cervix and threaten to push into her womb. His massive sack twitched, then drew itself upwards as his core tightened, nestling between his thighs.

Everything felt larger, though torturously slower as the base of his cock swelled like a firehose with the load being pulled up from his sack. A cry of pleasure escaped Lance’s mouth, though had one not been there to observe, it could have been mistaken as a cry for pain as the earth pony’s massive body shook like a leaf.

He could feel it, the torrential gush of broken-down mare surging it’s way down his shaft to burst from his flare directly into Ember’s womb. Ember jerked like she’d been shocked, letting out a scream around the gag as Lance slowly started to slump over more and more, twitching, jerking, every powerful throb from his cock pumping another unfathomable quantity of the concoction within his balls into the mare. It wasn’t cum, not exactly; it didn’t feel like cum. He could feel bits and chunks, as they passed, the texture of it; it was like chicken noodle soup through a straw. And it just wouldn’t stop, even as Ember’s womb swelled up against the armrest of the couch, Lance’s balls visibly shrinking in size with each resulting pump and gush of decomposed mare.

Shag had completely frozen in place, the expression on his face stuck between bafflement, disgust, and amazement, like he’d shorted out and was currently in the process of rebooting.

Lance gasped suddenly, as if coming out of a trance, then reared back, yanking his shaft forcefully out of the overstretched mare as he took a half step back. The slick sheen of liquid on his shaft started to go red the more of his shaft was exposed, and by the time the flare pulled free with a loud, messy ‘schlorp’ and a pop, it was clear that the upper six inches of his cock were coated in blood. But his body wasn’t done. Still standing over Ember, Lance moved his hooves to the armrest and let out a pained groan, throwing his head back as his cock flexed and the base swelled like a knot. A fat twitch and another flex saw that swollen knot grow, before starting down the shaft, a big lump of somethingtraveling down the length of his cock towards the flare. Lance kept his eyes pinched tight shut, his cock jerking up to slap his belly, splattering blood and marecum across his underside. That lump neared the flare, and a steady drizzle of red, soupy liquid ran from the tip, spattering the floor, making a mess of the carpet, then one final flex saw the bump finally reach the tip and start to crown.

The cameras all zoomed in on the tip of Lance’s cock as something white and round crowned from the usually-narrow cockslit, stretching it wider and wider, until with a ‘pop,’ it slipped free. A bloodstained, bleached skull dropped to the carpet with a thud, landing rightside up as it stared blindly backwards between Lance’s hind legs. The wall of fluid that it had been holding back spurted from the tip of Lance’s cock and landed atop it like some grotesque icing, a red pulp of blood and other slimy bits and pieces that had once made up the poor mare, leaving everyone in the studio with the grotesque knowledge of just what he had pumped Ember full of.

His cock gave one last twitch, slapping his belly for a final time and further spattering his white coat with blood, before starting to go limp, sagging rather than pointing out ahead.

And then there was silence, broken only by Lance’s rough panting as he recovered from the rut and Ember’s whimpering around the rag in her mouth as she squirmed meekly under his pinning hoof. After a second or two of that, Lance glanced over, past the cameras, to throw a look to Shag.

The little unicorn was sitting back on his haunches, eyes somewhat wide. He didn’t have the look of a horrified pony about him, not exactly; it was more like a look of complete and utter shock, like a lottery winner who was struggling to comprehend the realization that they were now rich. It took him a moment or two to realize that Lance was making eye contact, and when he did, the little unicorn jolted back to attention.

Shag surveyed the scene with a small flick of his eyes back and forth between Lance and Ember, and the cogs in his brain seemed to lock up for a second. He blinked, then raised his forehooves and mimed holding a sandwich; he opened his mouth and pretended to take a bite out of it, then shot Lance a toothy grin and a vigorously nodded his head up and down as his eyes moved to settle on the spent Ember.

Earlier, Lance had found himself wondering what would be done of the mare, considering the way the situation had turned. She knew the location of the studio, knew Shag and ponies in his inner circle—of course this made sense. Lance quirked a brow at Shag, cracked half of a grin, then looked down at the mare he still held down to the couch.

He leaned forward with a grunt, far enough that he could get his right hoof on her muzzle to yank the rag from between her teeth. The mare responded immediately, drawing in a sharp, unlabored breath of air before letting it out in a groan. Lance sat back, pulling her with him, keeping the smaller mare hugged tightly to his belly. She fought, thrashing back and forth in his grasp, turning to look up at him.

“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that!?” she shouted, trying to spit up at him, however gravity wasn’t on her side, so the ball of saliva did little more than arc graciously in the air before landing on her shoulder. “We’re done. That’s it! You can fucking tell—”

The realization of what Lance was doing flashed on her face as he loomed over her, opening his jaw, giving the poor mare a good view of the inside of his mouth and the darkness beyond. She tensed up, words freezing on her lips as he jaw went a little bit slack.

Lance lunged, and the mare managed to get out the first half of a startled scream before his teeth clamped around her neck, reducing the rest of the mare’s cry to little more than a muffled sound that escaped through his cheeks. Ember started to thrash, forehooves pinwheeling wildly as she tried to strike a glancing blow on the stallion. She arched her back against his chest, twitching and pulling left and right while her hind legs kicked out. One of her thrashing kicks hit the bloody skull that had been resting near the base of the couch and sent it bouncing and rolling away across the carpet.

Grunting, he shut his eyes as his tongue lapped over the mare’s face, and the somewhat salty flavor of her coat started to seep into his taste buds, getting the saliva in his mouth flowing. Lance felt a shiver hit his form, and he stifled a groan of content as he wrapped his forehooves around Ember’s middle to cut down on her pinwheeling.

“Okay, good!” Shag called from behind the cameras. “A little improvised, but good!” He danced from his left hooves to his right hooves, then sat back on his haunches and twirled his hoof in the air. “Remember camera angles. Turn around, sit back against the arm of the couch. We wanna see the action and we wanna see your dick.”

He’d almost forgotten about camera angles. Lance didn’t show any physical signs that he’d heard, but he did comply, turning sharply, dragging the thrashing mare with him as he continued to lube up her muzzle with his tongue. By far the easiest way to scarf a pony down was face-first, rightside up, but he already had her head in her mouth and he didn’t feel like readjusting her as he sat back on his haunches against the armrest of the couch and shamelessly spread his hind legs for the cameras; his dick was limp, but it certainly hadn’t shrunk any as it was left laying in the crook of his left thigh like a tired snake.

One of the camera operators turned to glance over at Shag, then leaned over to whisper something. Shag leaned in close, whispered back, then looked frantically to Lance. “And make it fast! We’ve got a minute and a half on the reels and no room for a cut!” He gave his hoof a quick series of taps. “Come on. Gogogogo!”

As much as he would have loved to sit back and enjoy his meal, he had to admit, the thought of scarfing her down and being done with it was pretty appealing as well, considering just how spent he was.

Without further ado, Lance grabbed Ember’s hips and squeezed, lifting her up as he leaned forward, swallowing, stuffing her maw into his throat with a little bit of a gag and a wet ‘glurk.’ her forehooves flailed, though there wasn’t much she could do to stop him as he stretched his jaw and let his top row of teeth rake over her chest fur, turning his head left and right in order to stuff her shoulders past his cheeks. Another hard swallow and a small jerk of his head saw that her forehooves were pinned to her sides as her head fully slid into his throat, bulging just below his jaw. That was the hard part, and now it was smooth sailing.

Shag made brief eye contact, then made a gesture for Lance to hurry it along.

Drawing in a long, deep breath through his nose while he still could, Lance squeezed Ember’s hips, then lifted her haunches right up into the air. He tilted his head back opened his mouth as wide as he could, then swallowed with all the force he could muster. The sound was nearly palpable as Ember sank from her chest, right down to her naval in a single gulp, Lance’s throat bulging with her wiggling form. Her hind legs kicked at the air, the mare completely helpless, as she didn’t even have gravity on her side anymore. Lance swallowed again, and she plunged, only stopping when her rump hung up on his teeth. He jerked his head a little, then grabbed her hind legs and pushed, feeling her head splash down in the bottom of his stomach. The mare’s tail hung down in his face, tickling his nose as he stuffed her rump past his teeth. Once he had it in his mouth, his cheeks bulging, two more, sharp swallows had it sliding down his throat like a knot while his belly filled out with her weight, her trembling hind legs sliding between his teeth. He moved his hooves to his belly, cupping the sagging weight that dropped towards his groin as he snapped his teeth shut behind her retreating hooves. The swollen lump that was her ass neared his chest, and Lance dropped his head, screwing up his face in effort as he gave one last, heavy swallow that sent it dropping like a bomb. His belly bounced with the weight of the mare as she was fully deposited in his stomach. Compared to her, he was so large that it didn’t affect him much, and with a pleased groan, Lance started to lean forward, moving his hooves from his belly to the floor for balance and simply letting it hang.

Ember’s muffled scream could be heard through muscle and layers of fat, though it was muted and distorted, nowhere near as loud as it should have been. She kicked and thrashed, the bulge of a hoof showing here, a shoulder there. Her facial features appeared ever so briefly on his left flank, though were gone less than a second later when Lance rolled forward and stood, his limp dick swinging between his legs, threatening to stiffen up once more with the way the mare was thrashing around inside him.

“Now!” Shag said sharply. “Look at camera two and smirk!”

Lance did one better. He held up a hoof, stifled a loud, but breathy burp, then picked a clump of amber-colored fur out of his teeth. He eyed it for a second with a serious lack of concern, then cast his eyes to the camera and flashed it a smirk—a dangerous look, the look of a stallion who could do anything he wanted to you, and knew there wasn’t a single thing you could do about it.

There was a snap from one of the cameras as the film reached the end of its roll and broke free from the spool, then another from the left, then one more.

Lance let his rump drop to the carpet, his belly smacking it with a thud and a pained cry from Ember. He shuddered, groaned, then shut his eyes and took a moment to just... bask.

The room slowly rose from silence, the still air filling with the babble of countless ponies, Shag’s voice standing out among them. “Thank you, thank you!” he said through a laugh. “Hah, you know it!” he said to one, then to another. “Oh, yeah, it’s fucking disgusting. I know, but have you ever seen anything like that!? Hah, yeah, that’s what I thought! So we’ve got a deal?”

Placing a hoof on his gut to somewhat steady it’s shaking and jostling, Lance opened his eyes to meet the gaze of one of the stallions who had been operating the camera, still standing at his station. He was young, green coat, brown mane, and he was just... staring. Lance quirked a brow at him, then tilted his head. “See something interesting?”

The stallion jolted, as if he hadn’t even realized he’d been staring. “Oh, heh, sorry, just never seen anything like that before.”

Lance smirked. “First day?”

The green stallion hesitated at first, but eventually nodded. “I’m a film student. Fresh out of school. Got huge bills. Your uh...” He glanced over at Shag. “Producer asked if I could run a camera, then immediately asked if I watched hardcore porn.” The stallion gave an uncomfortable laugh, and Lance laughed along with him.

Ember gave a particularly loud scream from within, and a rather hard kick, and Lance winced. He glanced down briefly, then punched his gut, feeling his hoof land somewhere on her body. Once that was dealt with, he looked up to the kid. “He didn’t warn you about the uh...” He glanced left, to where the little mare’s skull still sat on the carpet.

“Not even a hint.” He wrung his hooves together and bit his lip. “It’s... well, I’m not into this kinda stuff... but I...” He groaned, then ran a flustered hoof through his mane. “Can you eat my ex?”

Lance blinked, quirked a brow, then cocked a grin. “If you want.”