Night Tracer yawned and stretched her wings. After rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, the first thing she saw a black panel with the numbers 50:1 in bright red.
The diminutive bat-pony hung upside-down by her tail, wrapped around a ceiling crossbeam in her apartment. Usually she would sleep in bed, but every once in a while when she really needed a good night’s sleep she would hang the traditional bat-pony way.
Swinging off the crossbeam with a twirl, Tracer quickly glided over to her heavy, ‘blackout-style’ curtains and threw them open.
She was greeted with the soft pale moonlight of a Las Pegasus evening.
A crystal clear midnight sky. Perfect. Time to get to work.
Tracer made her way to her kitchen with another yawn, picking up the sandwich she had prepared for herself the day before: raw brisket with some cheese and tomato.
It was a little bit harder to get access to meat as a civilian in Equestria than it had been during her time with the Night Guard, who made sure that their thestrals always had a steady supply of fresh, red meat and/or blood. Not all bat-ponies had retained their ancient need for meats and blood. Many of those who did gave it up anyway, taking carefully crafted supplements instead so as not to upset their herbivore cousins. Tracer’s time in the Night Guard spoiled her, as every night Luna’s thestrals dined on hot meat off the bone and fresh blood. She still loved the taste of meat herself. The feeling of her fangs in her upper row of teeth playing over the tender flesh like a predator teasing her prey. The fleshy musk of life. Warm juices sliding down her throat.
Half an hour later, Tracer took a hearty bite out of her sandwich, high up in the night air of Las Pegasus. It was a good night for flying, and she didn’t mind the extra weight of her small, ‘everyday-carry’ backpack, which held her sidearm (a SIG Cow-er P220)… it was nothing compared to the heavy weight of the rucks that they would carry on some of her patrols in Luna’s Night Guard.
She sighed to herself as the beautiful city lights drifted and sparkled beneath her. Yes, civilian life was pretty laid back: it was one of the reasons she had been so happy when she’d been hired the previous year to be the chief of corporate security at EquestriAero. Her extensive experience with the Equestrian military left her with plenty of experience in assessing a facility’s physical vulnerabilities. Further, as a technology specialist with a concentration in mil;-spec cyber intrusions she was an even more valuable pick-up in the world of corporate security. The fact that she’d done work with EquestriAero in some of their military contracts just sealed the deal.
Tracer came to a landing just outside the main building. The parking lot was mostly empty, as was to be expected for such an odd hour. She had made it clear to her boss, Jet Stream, that security was a 24-hour job and she would need to work at her own times. He’d been quite understanding, demanding only that she attend critical management meetings and keep him in the loop.
Tracer walked up to the front door and scanned her ID card over the RFID entry point. The little light on the door clicked from red to green and the door unlocked to let her in.
An idea came to her as she opened the door, so she held it open with her hind leg. She pulled off her backpack and removed a small roll of duct tape from it. She took a small strip of the tape and applied it to the door’s deadbolt, keeping it trapped in its slot before she let the door close again.
The light clicked from green to red, which would mean that the door was now securely locked, but Tracer was able to pull it open with ease. She walked in with a groan, rolling her eyes. Crap system defeated by a piece of tape! Might as well have an open door, at least it wouldn’t slow down people who followed the rules… because this certainly wouldn’t slow down those who WOULDN’T. Tracer thought to herself. Just another hole EquestriAero needed to patch ASAP.
She walked into the lobby, glancing about the quiet area before turning toward the metal detector/body scanner row that cordoned off the secure parts of the facility. During the day it would be manned, but after-hours everything was locked down.
A door burst open on one side of the lobby and a security officer trotted in, a hoof-held radio crackling on his saddlebag.
“Good evening, Ms. Tracer.” The guard, Zip Cuffs, nodded to her. “Just wanted to let you know that I saw the little duct tape trick on the camera. I think we would have caught it on surveillance, or definitely by the time that anypony walked through without getting a greenlight on the RFID…”
Tracer grunted, a grimace on her face. Zip Cuffs was a good guard and probably would have caught somepony messing with the lock, but that wasn’t the point and he knew that. The obvious flaw couldn’t stand. She simply nodded, heading to the secure staff elevator.
Cuffs called over to Tracer with a chuckle, as she punched in the elevator’s access code. “Quiet night, just maintenance and security on site, ma’am… and one engineer on the R&D floor who’s been here since noon.”
Tracer walked into the elevator and turned around, looking at her officer with an arched eyebrow. Cuffs quickly looked up the sign-in data from a nearby computer terminal, answering her unspoken question. “The engineer is Comet, ma’am. Working late on a deadline project.”
Tracer rolled her eyes as the elevator doors closed.
A few minutes later, Tracer settled into her comfortable office chair, typing on her keyboard to pull up a number of camera feeds. A few quick cycles through the exterior compound cameras, then Tracer selected the cameras from the R&D floor.
She could see all of its workstations and cubicles, usually filled with engineers, mathematicians, mechanics and analysts, all swarming like bees in their hive; now deserted. Except for one lonely table which still had a glowing desk lamp and illuminated computer monitors.
Where is he?
Tracer idly cycled through cameras with no success, until she found her prey with the bathroom camera.
Jet Stream had originally argued vehemently against such a camera, fearing HR nightmares and lawsuits galore, but Tracer insisted on it. Anypony trying to smuggle out billions of bits worth of technology would figure out where the blind spots were, and it was all too easy to hide things in orifices that couldn’t be searched. In fact, one time the bathroom cameras foiled precisely that: a Stalliongrad spy who had tried to stuff some blueprints into a rather unmentionable place.
With Diamond Gavel’s assistance (Tracer had to admit that mare knew how to get things done), they’d found the legal workaround and drafted the required warnings for everypony’s employment agreements. Jet relented on the condition that the footage was heavily protected and restricted to Tracer’s eyes only.
And that was why Tracer had seen the intimate bits of every employee of EquestriAero.
She didn’t like to admit it, even to herself, but she was something of a voyeur. Seeing ponies going through their shifts, corresponding with friends and loved ones, having little water-cooler conversations with coworkers, writing their personal blogs and journals--Tracer loved it all. It felt like she was playing The Sims with real life NPCs, seeing the intimate little details of everypony’s lives and understanding them better than they understood themselves.
The bathroom footage was just icing on the cake, but Tracer had to admit it was sexy to walk past a nerdy young analyst being ridiculed by his older coworkers on the assembly floor, knowing that he had a package that would make the others’ look like pencils by comparison. Or to watch mares in heat smuggle coolers into the bathroom stalls for quick relief during their lunch breaks.
Tracer grinned as the image came up on her monitor. A tired-looking Comet stood over the trough-like urinal, gripping an extended and floppy stallionhood in one hoof as he released a stream of spattering urine from the dark grey shaft.
She’d seen his penis before, and it sure was impressive! Not as large or girthy as some of the other males at the company, but definitely one of the longest… top 3 for sure.
Not that she had a list or anything.
At least, not a list she’d written down.
Tracer sighed, leaving the monitor on as she looked through some of the security reports on her desk. Nothing of major concern, just a few hacking attempts and a small scuffle in the cafeteria between two hot-headed mares from Marketing. Those two were ‘secretly’ dating outside of work, something Tracer would need to confront them about at some point.
As she skimmed through the tedious paperwork, she saw Comet washing his hooves, his little soldier having retracted back into its sheath. It always amazed Tracer how compact even the biggest stallions could become when walking about; the old adage about growers and showers was definitely true.
Comet finished washing up and was leaving. Like most ponies at EquestriAero, he reached for the bathroom light switch despite there being an obvious sign above it that read ‘LEAVE LIGHTS ON!’
“Don't turn off the lights, just read the damn sign…” Tracer whispered to herself, even as she watched Comet flick the switch, plunging the room into a useless pitch black.
“Dammit!” Tracer said.
She had put the sign there herself days before; the infrared camera in this bathroom was out, giving her a blind spot if the lights were off. Now she would have to leave her comfy chair to go to the other side of the EquestriAero compound and back, just to flick one damn switch because one damn stallion couldn’t read one damn sign.
Luna dammit.
Tracer pushed open the door to the stallions’ washroom, still grousing to herself about the unnecessary trip to the other side of the EquestriAero compound.
Is it too much to ask ponies to read the damn signs!? It's like I'm back in preschool, sheesh!
Tracer peeked into the bathroom just enough to reach over and flick the light switch near its door. The bright lights flared to life. Tracer was about to leave when her nose twitched involuntarily and the hairs on her neck stood up.
Thestral noses were very sensitive, able to easily distinguish even faint whiffs from a great distance.The bathroom was full of all kinds of stallion musks, of course, along with the pungent acidic smell of urine, but there was something else in the air this night. Something sweet.
Something that made Tracer’s heart frolic in her chest. She trotted into the bathroom, knowing that she didn’t belong there and had to get back to work, but she couldn't help it. The scent, familiar and alluring, compelled her to know.
It wasn't stallion pheromones compelling her. Tracer wasn't in heat, and even if she had been, she’d been well-trained by the guard to control her biological impulses.
The closer she got to the urinal Comet used the stronger the scent became, overpowering all others. Tracer gulped down her nervousness and began to shake with excitement.
There was no mistaking it. It was the bane and ambrosia of bat-ponies all throughout Equestria.
Mango.
Comet sighed to himself as he looked over the blueprints for the turbine engine’s fuel pump for the twentieth time that night. The damn thing had to go to the fabrication team in a few hours and he was still finding serious design issues keeping it from being anything other than a fancy experimental form.
’Typical eggheads, designing some crazy ‘innovative’ pump that would ‘theoretically’ work, but in reality was bigger and heavier than Celestia’s ass after a cake-eating contest.’ Comet rubbed his forehead in silent frustration. ’Seriously guys - did you even anticipate the manifold pressures when choosing these materials? This has about as much chance of working as the Princess of Friendship has of getting laid.’
Comet leaned back in his chair with a groan, and when he did he found a pair of bright blue eyes staring at him from the opening to his cubicle, mere inches from his face.
“Gah!” Comet’s chair slid out from under him and he tumbled to the ground. “Sheesh! You could give a guy a heart attack! Who the hell-”
Comet caught himself before swearing further, as he saw that it was the security chief standing in the entrance to his cubicle, her small frame and sorry height barely teaching the top of his wall. “Oh, it's just you, Squeaks.” he sighed, sitting up and pulling his chair closer to his desk.
Tracer frowned, rolling her eyes. She'd told the annoying mechanic not to nickname her ‘Tracy’ back when they first met - but true to his incorrigible teasing nature, he quickly saddled her with ‘Squeaks’ instead. Apparently growing up he'd known a thestral who was prone to squeaking and making the stereotypical 'EEEeee!’ vocalization.
At the time she'd wanted to tell him how racist it was to assume all bat-ponies did the same, but she knew his type: any complaint from her would only encourage him to needle her twice as hard. Unfortunately and predictably, the nickname stuck among the mechanics of his section. She put up with it because getting any nickname from the rough and tumble ponies of the mechanical design team was a term of endearment… it didn't mean she’d forgiven the annoying colt for giving it to her yet, though.
“Doing another late shift, huh?” Comet said, picking up his drafting pencil and turning away from the little security mare, “I don't know how you handle these hours, Squeaks. I'm about ready to drop into a coma. Anyway, what can I do you for? My pass expire again or something?”
Tracer simply grunted, shaking her head as she looked about Comet's cubicle.
“C'mon Squeaks,” Comet said with a grin, swiveling in his chair to look back at her again, “use your words, like a big girl.”
Tracer was about to reply, when she spotted it. A small wicker basket on Comet's desktop, filled with various fruits and candies… and two sliced up mangoes, one already halfway taken from her.
She lifted a hoof to point at the delectable morsels, her eyes widening, slit-like pupils pooling and becoming larger.
“Huh, what are you pointing at?” Comet asked, perplexed.
Tracer's wings twitched smoothly and began to extend away from her. Her mouth parted ever so slightly and she swallowed some saliva so she could speak.
“M-m-mangoes…” the reverence and awe in the mare’s soft, quiet voice was unmistakable. It was rare for Tracer to speak, and this was an almost holy exhortation.
“What's that? Oh. Yeah.” Comet reached over and grabbed the small plate of sliced fruit from the basket. “A specialist from Zebrica was here today and left us this gift basket. It’s got all sorts of weird fruits I've never seen. Want one?” He held the plate out to the little thestral.
Tracer’s whole body shook with excitement. Mangoes couldn’t grow in Equestria and the zebras didn’t export them often. The last time she had mango was at a Zebrican fair in her hometown when she was a teenager. How long would it be before she’d get another chance like this?
A small part of her knew she was better off turning down the offer or at least asking Comet to save the mangoes in the fridge for her. Mangoes contained a chemical that was a powerful stimulant and even somewhat of an aphrodisiac for thestrals and she was on the mango. She had to remain focused on mango. Her mangohood and the mango of EquestriMango were depending on her to mango mango mango. Mango help her, she couldn’t mango the scent of a mango if she tried.
Tracer reached a shaking hoof out and grabbed a single beautiful slice, her big eyes enraptured by the piece of fruit, as if she couldn't believe that this was real.
“Go ahead, Squeaks… I thought the damn things taste a bit funny to be honest with you.” Comet shrugged, perplexed by the bat-pony’s reaction.
Funny?! What’s wrong with you?! Tracer held the slice close, protectively, then she stuffed it in her mouth.
Tracer's slit eyed pupils slowly expanded larger and larger as her mouth exploded with the exquisite mixture of tart and sweet juices, a result of the delicate balance of volatile organic chemicals mainly belonging to the terpene, furanone, lactone, and ester classes. Instantly her mind was flooded with a mixture of memories, familiar faces of hearth and home when they'd broken out the fruit for special occasions, commingled with visions of mysterious and dark jungles from the Zebrican continent.
Tracer groaned in pleasure as the piece of fruit slid down her throat and into her belly. She could feel the unique chemistry exploding through her system with tiny bursts of neuronal activity, igniting her cerebellum as the potent mixture began to light up her brain stem like a Hearth’s Warming tree.
Bliss.
Pure. Unfiltered. Bliss.
Comet watched with surprise as the little mare in front of him practically orgasmed from the mango. “You OK, Squeaks?” he asked with an arched eyebrow, before glancing at her hindlegs to make sure he didn’t need to call the graveyard-shift janitor.
“Areyoukiddingme!?” Tracer squealed. “It’s amazing! Do you know how rare mango is in Equestria!? No, of course you wouldn't. It's rare! Like, super rare. Did you know that we bat-ponies process it differently than you?! Hey, what's your deal about not liking mang-nph… mhfg! Mfsgngh ngh vhfgry nghce!”
The last sentence was muffled by Comet's hoof, a vain attempt to dam up the sudden verbal flood pouring from her gob. “Wh-what the hell!?” Comet asked, bewildered by this new and strange Tracer in front of him, who quickly knocked his middling hoof aside and kept on talking.
“Hey! What's the big deal with trying to muzzle me huh?” Tracer chirped, bouncing excitedly past him and jumping onto Comet's desk. She jogged in place with excitement, shaking the desk and knocking papers everywhere. “I'm so excited! You have no idea how awesome mangoes are! They're THE BEST!”
“H-hey, cut it out you crazy filly!” Comet desperately tried to protect his hard work from being trampled as Tracer frantically roamed all over his desk space, sniffing here and there with her big wet nose. “Who are you and what did you do with the quiet and orderly security chief that was here a minute ago?!”
Tracer knocked over Comet's computer monitor with a laugh, snatching up the last mango in her hooves. “It's still me you dork. It's just that, you see, when thestrals eat mango they can't process the complex sugars right away, so it can have an effect akin to catnip, sugar, caffeine and an aphrodisiac, all in one!” She inspected the mango quickly before her fidgeting intensified and she began to squeak.
“Eeeeeee!”
Comet covered his ears and winced from the high pitched sound. “EEEE! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! Omygawshomygawsh, this is, like, the super potent stuff, just as I remember it! They don’t even have mangoes at fancy restaurants in Canterlot!”
Comet watched in awe as she sank her little canine-like fangs into the skin of the ripe mango, sucking its juices dry, reducing it in less than a minute to a shriveled husk of fruit, which she promptly swallowed whole. “I-if this stuff has all those effects, are you sure you should be eating so much so fast?” Comet asked, watching the little thestral warily.
As the larger serving of mango began to first through Tracer's veins, she trembled, little shivers of muscular spasms rippling over her skin and fur, rippling up and down her body in waves, reaching her face and making it twitch and shake. Then she started giggling.
Maniacally.
“AHAHAHA… keekeekeeeeEEEEE!” Tracer held her belly as she rolled about on Comet's desk, laughing uncontrollably, her little legs kicking at the air. “Y-you should see your face, Comet! The suave debonair stallion nervous because of little old me, just because I've gotten a little mango drunk! You're such a little wimp!”
Comet stood there, dumbfounded. Usually he was the master of witty banter and quick repartees, but he could do little more than stare open-mouthed at the little bundle of charcoal fur and wings thrashing about in front of him.
“N-nuh uh…” he managed to mumble, a truly pathetic response.
Tracer flipped onto her hooves, hopped off the desk and lifted the wicker basket lid. “Now how’s about some more mang-”
The basket was empty.
Tracer froze, starting despondently at the empty basket. All of her shaking, trembling, boundless energy was on hold, constrained, like a champagne bottle about to explode.
“Th-that was the last piece… I'm s-sorry?” Comet said, a bit terrified about what she would do next.
Tracer wheeled on him in an instant. She gripped both sides of his face, looking deeply into his eyes with her wide, dilated pupils.
“NO MORE MANGO!?” Tracer shouted, looking almost panicked. “No more exquisite flavor? No more perfect sweetness!? No more feel good juice!?!? NO MORE HAPPY FRUIT!? NO MORE REASON TO LIVE!?!?!?”
“T-tracer… I think you have a problem.” Comet whispered, terrified.
Tracer pondered for half a second, looking deeply into Comet's face before tilting her head. She had an idea. “Uh uh, hot shot. You've got a problem. You ate a bunch of those mangoes. Right?”
Convert nodded. “Yeah I had three or four, why do you as-nmmfffgh!!!”
He was suddenly cut off as the little mare pressed her open mouth against his.
It was the deepest kiss Comet had ever experienced. Comet felt her lashing thestral tongue aggressively exploring his mouth. He was helpless to resist the powerful pink muscle pinning his own against the floor of his mouth. It ran across his teeth and gums and reached deep down his throat, cleaning the entirety of his mouth. All the while the hungry little mare sucked heavily on his open lips, drinking in his saliva with a thirsty need.
And then, just as suddenly as it had began, it was over. Tracer pulled away with a loud smack and leaned back, licking her lips. “Mmmm, you tasted of mango, that's for sure. Even though you kiss like a mare.” She giggled, her tail swishing happily like a puppy dog’s.
“I… you… me… we… w-what?” Comet wasn't used to a mare coming on so strong to him, as usually he was the one chasing tails around the office.
Tracer laughed aloud at his flustered loss for words. “Kee kee kee, I told you, mango is a natural aphrodisiac for us thestrals too.” She leaned forward and whispered into his ear, half-giggly and half-sultry: “…and now you've got that lovely mango juice alllllll mixed up in your system… and I need it.”
With that, Tracer nipped at Comet's ear, then dragged her tongue down the side of his neck and planted her fangs into the skin there.
Comet jumped and fell away from the twin pricks of her teeth in his flesh. “ARE YOU NUTS!?” he complained from the floor. He rubbed the side of his neck and felt two tiny spots of blood beginning to bead from the little pinpricks Tracer had left behind.
He’d never thought tiny quiet Squeaks to be intimidating. To him, she was like a filly with a brown belt: obviously didn’t come from nowhere but come on, nopony took that seriously. Now, however, seeing her slide off the edge of his desk and approach him, lust gleaming in her bright blue eyes--predator’s eyes--he swallowed nervously and dared not make a move. Even noticing the droplets of mare juice she’d left on his desk wasn’t enough to snap him out of it.
“Don't tell me that the legendary philanderer Comet is afraid of a mare who just wants a little suck?” Tracer licked her lips hungrily, eyeing the stallion lying supine below her.
“N-no! O-of course not!” Comet said with a nervous laugh. “I just usually like a mare to suck something else out of me.”
Comet started to sit up with a grin, but Tracer dashed forward and pushed him back down. She stood over him, laughing at his paltry attempts at regaining control of the situation.
“Oh don't you worry, little boy. I can start wherever you like…” Her eyes roamed from Comet's torso down to his groin, inspecting him like the piece of meat he was. “Just remember I'll be draining you dry before I'm done.”
Before Comet could make sure what she would drain him of was white rather than red, Squeaks wiggled her eyebrows and turned around so her rear was in his face, her tail hairs flicking playfully against his nose. He could smell her arousal now, a heady mix of sweet and tang. Warm drops of mare nectar fell to his chest from a tight, pink marehood perched exquisitely under a tiny ponut and a cute, flagging dock. Comet’s jaw dropped at the sight of her small clitoris winking and trembling. This filly needed to be stuffed yesterday and he was just the guy to wreck that super-tight steaming hot pussy that suddenly plopped onto his face!
Comet’s grunts of surprise and protest vibrating her pussy lips made Tracer eagerly grind her bum against his muzzle. “Mmmm! Good boy, you catch on quick! I don't want to waste a drop of that mango essence, now. So you're gonna lap up every drop from me and I'm gonna lap up every drop from you in return.” She felt him obey at once, his tongue making cautious excursions into her hot, sticky honeypot.
Tracer bent over and nuzzled the hot, sweaty sheath of the stallion trapped beneath her. “Mmm, what's this though?” she said. “You're so small down here!” But his twig definitely didn’t match his berries. Beneath the small squishy sheath sat sizable seed sacks that she fondled with her hooves, playfully rubbing them in gentle swirls. “No wonder you're always having trouble unloading your two big boys with such a small outlet! This explains why you never seem to be able to keep a fillyfriend!” After all the ribbing he gave her and the other mares in the company on a daily basis, she couldn’t help but tease him back.
It was only a short-lived victory, as Comet began to lash his tongue against her lovebud, making her squeak and cross her eyes with delight. He had some serious skill down there!
Pic occurs here! NSFW: DB post #1722775
With a few licks and kisses to his balls from Tracer, Comet’s penis started to extend out of its sheath. Like some sort of sexy magic prop, Little Comet flopped out inch after inch, extending with powerful throbs out past the medial ring. It drooped out to an impressive, even intimidating deflated length before hot blood rushed into it, expanding it full and thick so that it stood upright and proud. All while Tracer bathed the cock in her slick tongue, worshipping it from flaccid to stiff.
“Keekeekee, w-woah…” Tracer giggled, impressed by the size of the organ she'd only ever seen on the security monitors before. “I take it back, little boy… or should I call you big boy now?” She shivered as she felt a suckling kiss against her winking clit in response.
A deep sniff of the powerful stallionhood in front of her filled her nose with sweat, salt, musk and MANGO! It was faint but she could practically taste it in the scent around his dick! Tracer dragged her nose down the mottled dark grey shaft to its medial ring. Its fattening flare pressed into her mane, leaving smears of pre-cum that dripped onto her nose. The mango scent was even stronger now - she couldn’t wait anymore.
Opening her drooling mouth as wide as she could, Tracer engulfed Comet’s whole cockhead with her muzzle. Salty stallion and sweet mango spread all over her tongue, making fireworks explode in her eyes.
Tracer's entire world became that cock.
Maybe it was all in her head, but it didn’t matter anymore since her head was swimming in orgasmic mango goodness. She couldn't hear or see anything else; the boss could walk in on them and she wouldn’t know. Everything disappeared, except her marehood clenching and twisting around a fat, invading tongue; and the fleshy, girthy straw of meat she was sucking on greedily, drawing out every drop of incredible taste.
She quickly learned that lashing her tongue between the knobby, sensitive ridge of the flare before quickly drawing it back to the angrily swollen circular slit of Comet's urethra was the best way to be rewarded with a little squirt of heavenly stallionhood pre-cum.
It wasn’t long before Comet was regularly coating her tongue in pre. The sweet sticky slime slowly slid down her throat. Yes! He’s feeding me mango! she thought. Mango and meat! More sweet mango meat juice! Come on, spray it into me! Feed me more! The thought made her body shiver and her leathery wings flare out rigid with excitement. She humped her ass onto his face faster, wishing she could swallow his whole muzzle into her pussy. The shivers built and built, more and more, faster and faster, harmonizing with each other until they were agonizing...and then...
She came.
Tracer began to thrust her hips harder and harder into Comet's face. She moaned rapid little breaths into his cockhead, each louder than the last. Her clenching marehood squeezed at the tongue inside it, gripping it tighter and tighter before the sudden release...
A muffled screech vibrated Comet’s cock while Tracer splashed splatter after splatter of her hot juice all over his face, soaking his neck with the messy gushes and torrents of copious amounts of fluid he wasn't able to swallow.
“Fughhhhmngh!” Tracer moaned into Comet's cock.
“MMM Cmmmghng!!!” Came his muffled reply.
Tracer felt the long stallionhood in her mouth spasm and jerk upwards, sliding towards her throat. As Comet moaned into her drooling pussy, his flare fattened and grew obscenely inside her mouth, almost getting stuck there.
Then a heavy, sticky river of thick mango-infused cream exploded into her throat. Tracer could see it in her mind’s eye spraying like a fire hose, enough to cover her face and mane in stallion batter. She nearly choked trying to swallow it all down, but she couldn’t waste even a single drop of that mango essence Comet was feeding her. The taste, the feeling, the thought of all that cream filling her stomach and coating the mango slices in there; it was more than enough to make her cum again. Even after Comet’s load died down Tracer desperately sucked on him with all her might, trying to coax out all she could get.
It was to the point that Comet had to shove her butt out of his face and pull his fat flare out of her mouth. Her fangs dug into his sensitive flare flesh on the way out. Not enough to piece the skin, thankfully, but the small teasing points made him gasp and moan. A small blast of cum flew out just as his cock hit the air, spreading all over Tracer’s face.
“Ughhhh… Celestia... Squeaks…” Comet groaned, delicately blowing and rubbing on his softening cock. “You really are trying to suck me dry.”
“Kee kee kee.” Tracer giggled while licking his cum off her face. “You have no idea, BIG boy! I haven't finished with you yet!” She growled sultrily and wagged her cute little bottom like a puppy about to pounce on a chew toy.
Comet slowly rose to his feet with a grin. No way was he gonna be this filly's sex toy all night; he had to assert himself here if he hoped to have a shred of pride whenever he saw Squeaks next.
“Oh yeah? You military girls are all the same in my experience - you act tough, but you actually love to be taken rough!” Comet looked at his drooping erection, imagining himself slamming Squeaks’ tiny body against the walls of his cubicle, making her scream for more. His dick loved the sound of that, slowly extending back to its full glory.
“In fact…” He pushed his face into Tracer's, their heads butting playfully. “I bet deep down you want me to push you up against that desk and rut that tight little bat-ass until the morning shift comes in!”
Tracer grinned, using the opportunity to lay a playful lick against the larger stallion's nose. “Just try it, tough guy.”
Permission had been granted.
Comet shoved her back against his desk with a passionate growl. He was on her in an instant, flipping her around and lifting her up on top of the desk.
Tracer scoffed, her tail still swishing playfully between Comet's legs as he mounted her. Even with his little tough guy routine, she'd felt how hesitantly he'd spun her, not wanting to force or hurt her. His hooves slammed on the desk to her left and right. His body weight pressed down on her back. His cock slid between her legs and slapped against her small boobs. Yet for all his show and bluster, he really was nothing but a big pushover. That wasn’t so bad, though. Tracer was fine with letting him feel like the big strong stallion he wanted to be. She loved a good pounding from behind when she was in the mood--and all that mango juice he’d fed her had definitely put her in the mood.
“C’mon, tough guy!” she said, shifting her weight to put her hot nethers closer to his cockhead. “Stuff me! Pump-fuck more of that good stuff into me!”
Comet shivered with delight as his flare drew across the winking wetness of Tracer's hot, dripping small-sized snatch, but he aimed for a higher, even smaller target. He was going to dominate this little firebrand by wrecking her asshole.
“I'm gonna make you squeal, Squeaks!” he crowed.
But the moment he pressed his stallionhood up against the Tracer's tight, tiny tailhole, she stiffened. Next thing he knew, he was on his ass on the carpeted floor, only dimly aware of some kind of crazy move she’d pulled.
While Comet was still processing what just happened, Tracer straddled his hips, rubbing her tits against the base of his shaft. “Tsk tsk tsk. Kee kee. Naughty boy.” she scolded, wagging her hoof in his face. “My butt is only for colts I really love.”
Comet's face fell immediately as he realised he'd misunderstood her. “Sheesh, I'm sorry. I thought you’d like it... Celestia’s tits, now I feel like an ass.”
“C’mon, c’mon!” Tracer humped his cock harder, little whines leaving her throat. “I’m not mad! No moping, just fucking!”
In one fluid motion she lifted her hips, freeing his cock to spring to attention, and lowered herself onto his considerable length. The fat, invading cockhead mashed uncomfortably against her slick folds, the pressure building as she continued pressing down, her vise-like tightness preventing her from slipping the cock she desperately wanted into her slick tunnel.
“I’m gonna enjoy draining youUUUngh!!” Tracer's voice faltered briefly as the thick head entered her suddenly and she began to slide down his shaft.
For a mare her size, most stallions were huge regardless of their girth and the above average Comet was no exception - in fact, he was much longer than she'd expected. She only reached his medial ring before his cockhead prodded at her cervix, and that itself felt like half her body was impaled by a large knobby spear of flesh! Her pussy stretched and strained around the intrusion, barely able to contain it. Driven by sheer lust, she leaned down and sank her fangs into the bite she’d made on Comet’s neck earlier. At the same time, she humped down with her hips as much as she could, meeting his little thrusts up into her. They couldn’t get very far, what with her cervix in the way.
Meanwhile, Comet was still trying to roll his eyes down from the back of his head. A warm wet enclosure almost painfully gripped and squeezed his cock from all sides.
“F-fuuuuck!!!” he groaned out, his eyes clenched in blissful agony as he clung to the little bat-pony biting and fucking him. “Y-you’re so fucking TIGHT!”
“Mmhm, what did you expect big boy?” Tracer moaned. “You're twice my size.” She lapped at the rich red blood trickling from his neck. “You're sweet, though. Your taste, that is.”
Tracer leaned forward with a hungry growl and planted her lips against Comet's wound. She suckled strongly on his flesh, drawing out his tasty blood and swallowing with deep gulps.
Getting dominated and eaten by a mare wasn’t what Comet was used to in a casual hookup, but he felt at peace with it. Maybe he was just light-headed from blood loss. Maybe it was the super-tight bat cunt constantly clenching and winking as it grinded only a few inches up and down on his cock.
“Mmmhmmm that's it big boy,” Tracer cooed into his ear. “Just let me know when you're getting close so I can hop off and suck your sweet mango spunk down.”
Sparks flew from Comet’s horn. Oh, he was in heaven! The feel of her tight little cunt twisting and milking him, of her little lips puckered against his neck and sucking. It was perfect...
...no, not yet!
Comet reached forward and grabbed Tracer’s little bat-pony's hips. He pulled her down hard so she couldn’t escape, making her eyes open wide in surprise.
“S-so you have a spine after all?!”
Comet grunted, saving his energy for pushing up against Tracer's humps, slamming his cockhead against the entrance to her womb. His mouth reached for her neck, trying to bite her back and keep her pulled down on his cock.
“Hngh… unf… unf… it… unf… w-won't… unf… f-fit!” Tracer moaned and whined, flagging her tail up in excitement. Their mutual humping sped up into a frenzy, with more of Comet's long cock impaling into her sloppy wetness. “F-fuck C-comet… y-you're t-too big! Unf… F-fuck… UNF!” Her clit winked in and out with powerful clenches, as if it was trying to spread her wider to let more of Comet into her twisting narrow, short vagina.
“I told--hngh--” Comet grunted. “T-told you S-squeaks… I'm gonna… gonna make you squeal!” He dug his hooves into the little mare's flank even harder and pulled down with all his might. Deep inside, her cervix finally parted before his flare’s constant pokes. With one mighty thrust, Comet filled the poor little filly’s womb with his flared cockhead and stuffed the whole second half of his impressive length into her.
As Tracer sank right to the hilt on Comet’s cock she saw a small mound rise up her gut, poking out of her belly--a sign of his fat cockhead pushing out her little gut. Her marehood was so overloaded, overjoyed with its overwhelming sensation of fullness that it was winking constantly, grasping and milking the huge pole stuffed into it. She could feel every vein and bulge as her body exploded in electric fireworks of the most intense orgasm she'd ever experienced.
She came. Hard.
“C-com… c-com… eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!”
With that high-pitched screech coupled with the milking convulsions of Tracer’s vaginal tunnel, begging his cock to pour his seed directly into her womb, Comet couldn't resist any longer.
“S-squeaks!!!”
Comet crushed the screeching mare in a death hug as his cock flared out and spasmed in her womb, signalling that she’d shortly receive shot after shot of his virile, potent seed. Past lays had told him he packed a hefty supply of stallion-juice in his well-sized testicles.
He couldn’t wait to see what it would do to her.
“EEEeeeEEEeeeEEE!!!!”
Tracer’s eyes rolled wildly and her squeaks rose in intensity as, with each powerful throb of Comet’s cock, thick creamy mango spunk shot into her. The heavy, sticky warmth in her belly grew steadily, expanding towards the bump on her barrel from Comet’s flare. After the first few gushes, she felt completely full, but Comet’s cock continued to spray.
Even after she heard the nasty squelching sound of stallion-juice spilling from her tight pussy, Comet’s cock still kept throbbing and pouring mango foal-batter inside her, carrying her through one orgasm after another.
Tracer felt herself slipping away, lost in the sheer pleasure of being so stuffed with the mango-flavored stallion-cum she'd so badly desired. Her tiny body continued to expand with the much larger stallion’s offering, an obscenely large warm balloon growing out of her little tummy.
Comet felt her overstuffed belly press against his barrel, growing well beyond capacity to accept as much of his cum as it could. Whatever it couldn’t hold oozed out of her clenching pussy, spurting out all over his crotch and thighs. It took everything he had to hold on and ride out his orgasm, clinging to Tracer like a life preserver in a storm.
Finally his last faltering throbs shook through his cock, pushing his remaining juices into Tracer’s crammed insides, and a powerful need to sleep took him. He let go of Tracer and fell flat on his back, grinning at the sight of the swollen belly between them. Little Comet, finally relieved of duty, rapidly shrank and freed itself from Tracer’s mound with a wet oozing pop. Huge dollops of cum spilled out of her, gushing to the floor like a waterfall, the sensation making her tremble and moan. Her belly shrank a little, but there was still plenty of cum swimming around in there--she looked like she swallowed a watermelon whole.
Comet had no idea what time it was when he groggily opened his eyes again. All he knew was that he was still near his desk on the floor and it was still dark in the office.
Oh, and there was a little bat mare curled up against his side, a small leathery wing spread over his shoulder, protecting his neck. Her massive stomach rippled with her breathing.
Comet slipped back into sleep with a smile.
The lights blasted on in blazing and painfully bright glory.
Comet groaned aloud and began to rub his aching forehead.
He felt a scurry of activity from his side as the small bit of warmth that was there suddenly pulled away. There was his partner in mischief, Night Tracer rubbing her head as well, looking groggy and grumpy. Maybe mango hangovers were a thing?
“Morning Squeaks, how about breakfast in be-mff” Comet was cut off by her hoof. By the look on her face, she was back to her usual quiet and reserved self.
The distant voices of engineers and mechanics arriving to start their day made him sit upright with a start.
Tracer prodded him in the chest aggressively, tapping her eyes and pointing at Comet before motioning to her mouth with a 'zip it’ gesture.
Comet sighed, “Back to your talkative self, eh Squeaks? Don't worry message received, I don't kiss and tell.”
Tracer sighed and quickly turned to leave, no doubt wanting to get to a bathroom or out of the compound entirely before anypony saw what he’d done to her. If Comet wasn’t grinning in satisfaction he would’ve laughed his ass off at the security chief quickly waddling away with a huge cum-stuffed belly, leaving a white trail of him on the floor beneath her with each step.
Not that he was in much better shape. He had a stream of dried blood running down his chest, a pool of his own dried cum in his lap, mare cum all over his face and neck; and a destroyed office on top of it all.
Ah well, at least it will give me good license to weave a story as to why I didn't get the turbopump plans ready in time. Comet chuckled intrrnally.
He got up, getting ready to clean up his cubicle for the new day… but not before making himself a little sticky-note that he put on his monitor:
FIND MANGO SUPPLIER!!!
Author's Note
If you liked the fic, leave a comment and hit the like button! It means a lot!
Hi everyone!
I want to start out by letting you know that Night Tracer belongs to Lucky Dragon and Comet belongs to Universe Fairy!.
The incredible artwork was done by Shinodage and the Space Ponyo universe launched from Delta Vee's junkyard.
As always a huge shout out to my proofreader Number Eight!
This time around I had a huge and intensive week long edit session with Pearl Ocean, a remarkably talented editor who really improved the quality of the work monumentally... Did you perhaps notice a smoother rhythm and flow to the entire work? That was all thanks to him!
I hope he takes a well-deserved bow in the comments, his work on this fic was extensive!
Tracer was a really fun character to write. My friend, Lucky Dragon, helped create her a few months back on the Space Ponyo discord, and she has showed up in a few fics, but I felt it was time for her to full get her own showing!
I hope Lucky will forgive me, as I know he doesn't believe in the mango-meme and EEEEEEE'ing bits of bat-pony as much... But it's just too cute to pass up on.
Tracer really only goes into that mode if exposed to the wonderful mango fruit. I imagine bat-ponies only use the more potent vintages of mangos as a part of some elaborate mating rituals, but I'm sure Comet would like to get a supplier now that he knows the secret!
So I'm not sure what to do for my next story. I was thinking of doing a poll on the a couple of different ideas that I was thinking of pursuing.
Let me know in the comments if you have any fun story ideas! If you have one that matches my fancy I may add it!
As always, have fun, and peace be with you!
