Expensive Tastes

The scene: an idle afternoon in the posh Canterlot apartment of one Fancypants.

Fleur de Lis took a sip of her tea, regarding Fancypants intently, sweeping her look over his neat mane, his strong jaw, muscular neck and broad chest. She hummed to herself and finally acknowledged the tingling that had been building in her loins for the past several hours. She set down her teacup with a gentle clink. “Fancy,” she said, calling Fancypants by her pet name for him, “I would enjoy being fucked.”

Fancypants finished sipping his tea, then lowered the cup and met her even gaze across its rim. “That sounds delightful, my darling.”

She gave him a bright smile and sashayed toward the bedroom suite, her pert rump swaying in the way she knew he liked. His heavy hoofsteps came down the hallway behind her, and her heart rate picked up.

In the bedroom, the afternoon light streamed in through the large windows, revealing the rooftops of Canterlot all the way to the castle itself. Fleur sidled up to Fancy with a smoldering gaze. She leaned in to kiss his smiling lips, pressing her full mouth against him for just a moment before pulling away. “Darling,” she said, “I’m in the mood for something special today.”

His eyebrows quirked with interest, but his voice was even. “Do tell.”

She took a deep breath, and let it out in a gust that quavered at the end. She steeled herself. This was the moment of truth. “I want you to use me.”

He blinked at her. “As in. . .”

“I want to be your sex toy. Use me.” Her eyes were bright with desire, distant with fascination at the words that were coming out of her mouth. This was a fantasy which had been stirring in her for weeks, a fuller expression of her delight in being submissive. At last, she was giving voice to it, and the act of speaking about it was making it real in a way her fantasies never had.

Fancy considered for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, my dear, I am willing to do that for you. What else?”

She made herself focus on him, on the here and now of her fantasy coming to life. “I want to be restrained, I want to be used. Hitting and pain are off limits today—I’m still sore from last time.”

He nodded again, and said, “That’s fine by me. Anything else?” She shook her head. “The usual safewords, of course?” She nodded.

He smiled at her and leaned in for a kiss, a chaste brush of the lips. She sighed against him, her haunches trembling. He pulled his head back, a new expression in place, stern and hard. She jumped in surprise, as she always did. The outward change between the sweet, kind stallion she loved and the dominant mask he wore when playing was invariably startling, and it added a sweet frisson of fear to her cocktail of feelings.

He darted his head at the bed, a curt gesture. “Get on the bed.” His tone of command made her hop into action.

She began climbing onto the bed, and he growled in anger. She froze and looked back. “Put your head this way. On your back,” he said.

She rolled onto her back, head dangling, looking upside-down at him as he stalked across the plush carpet toward her. Her breath came faster. He looked down at her for a moment, then stood upright, bracing himself on the bedposts.

He stepped closer, putting his sheath and scrotum right in her face. “Get me ready,” he said, a hint of thickness in his voice that pleased her—it showed that she was already an effective toy.

She lifted her pale hooves toward his pale sheath, intending to stroke him until his magnificent cock, the cock she loved so much, emerged for her to savor. Instead, his horn lit and her hooves were seized in the yellow glow of Fancypants’ magic, bound together as though by cuffs and held away from his body. She glanced up at his face and saw him staring down at her, waiting. He bucked his hips at her, pressing his sheath into her nose for an instant.

She licked her lips and raised her head, rubbing her cheeks and nose over his sheath and heavy balls, inhaling his particular scent with deep, greedy breaths, until the tip of his penis emerged from his sheath. She stretched her neck and darted out her tongue to touch the emerging rod. She moaned at the feeling of his heat against her tongue and lips, and did her best to bathe every inch of his cock as it continued emerging from his body.

At last he was fully erect, his thick dark shaft bobbing over her body like an oar waiting to dip into a sea of pleasure. He placed a hoof on top of his shaft, pressing it down against her body. She felt his length against her chin, neck, and chest, and she trembled at the hot hardness of it, wanting him to plunge it inside her, to gain pleasure from her body. She raised her head slightly to lick at his scrotum, juggling the balls inside with her tongue.

He drew his hips back away from her, and she could not help a little disappointed noise escaping her as her tongue stopped tasting him. He dragged his cock along her body, the flared head scraping along her soft coat. Finally he pulled away from her, and she focused her eyes on the tip of his cock bobbing inches in front of her nose. She moaned again, a needy whine, and opened wide enough to accommodate his girth.

His horn went out, releasing the magic cuffing her hooves. He put a hoof down to hold one of hers, so that she could signal to him wordlessly. Her chest warmed at that sign of his habitual caring attention, and she felt her vulva tremble with her arousal. He moved his hips forward, carefully putting his broad head in her mouth. He gave a quivering sigh as she moved her tongue against it, then pressed his cock further, until it met the back of her throat. She swallowed, then relaxed, inhaling deeply.

He thrust roughly into her, ramming his entire length down her throat in one long stroke. He paused then, his scrotum pressed to her nose, and she quivered under him, feeling his thick cock twitching and hot in her throat. She swallowed, and saw his balls lift at the press of her internal muscles. She licked the base of his cock, her tongue barely able to move around the shaft filling her mouth. She wanted to inhale, to smell him, but couldn’t, and felt the familiar, welcome thrill of fear of being at the mercy of Fancy’s massive cock. She closed her eyes and let herself go limp, relishing the feeling of being a receptacle for her master’s lust.

After a while, she began running out of air, and squeezed Fancy’s hoof to signal him. He immediately began drawing out of her throat, and she moaned inside her head at the feeling of his cock pulling against her. A moment later, he had withdrawn enough that she could breathe, and she exhaled her stale breath and drew a new one deep into her lungs, redolent with the scent of aroused stallion. He waited until she finished inhaling, then began thrusting into her mouth, fucking her throat with long strokes.

If she could have made any sound at all around the cock filling her throat, she would have been moaning in pleasure at his insistent thrusting. Instead she contented herself with watching his dark shaft piston in and out of her mouth. She loved every thrust, every withdrawal, every grunt and twitch he gave while he used her throat. She was his fuck toy, and she abandoned herself to the pleasure of being used. Her pussy trembled with need, and she wanted to reach down and caress herself, but she was only a toy. She would not please herself until her master was finished with her. Her clit throbbed at the thought, and she writhed on the bed.

After a while, Fancy pulled his cock from her mouth, and it bobbed in the air between them, glistening with her saliva and trembling with his arousal. He gestured dismissively at her. “Now on your stomach. I’m going to use the other hole.”

She panted with desire and scrambled to flip around. In seconds, her slim rump was hanging off the edge of the bed, her tail thrashing from side to side, revealing her pinkly swollen pussy to Fancy’s lustful gaze. He snorted and stepped forward, and she cringed against the bed, trembling in anticipation of being filled by him. Her slender build had earned her a great deal of attention through her life, but Fancypants was the first stallion she’d ever met who looked beyond her physical form and loved her for who she was. His appreciation for her as a person was what had sparked this fantasy of giving her body to him to use as he saw fit. Now, at last, she was going to service him as his cock sock, and she couldn’t wait for it. She pressed her head into the mattress to stifle her cry of joy and raised her ass toward him.

She felt him approach close behind her and she held her breath, but instead of pressure at her entrance, the hot weight of his cock touched her rump, then slid up to lay on her back right above her tail. He leaned down over her, pressing her into the bed, and his length slid along her back until his thighs met her pert bottom. She moaned at the burning heat of his cock laying on her, extending impossibly far up her back, until she could hardly believe that it would fit inside her. She squirmed and made little begging noises, feeling the head slither over her as she did so, leaving a wet trail behind on her coat.

His throaty growl came from right next to her ear. “What’s the matter, toy? Do you want me to put it in?”

She whined, pressed there under him, and nodded her head against the sheets. “Yes, master. Please put it in. Please use me.”

He lifted away from her and slowly rubbed his cock along her coat. She shivered. “Toys aren’tallowed to want anything. But lucky for you, I want a toy around my cock right now, so I suppose I’ll use you.” His voice was hard and tight, and she could barely detect the layers of hot desire behind his words.

His length left her back, and she bit her lip and squirmed around the emptiness she felt inside, her tail flagging against his stomach and thighs like mad. Then, without warning, she was filled, his thickness thrust into her with a single lightning-fast motion. She cried out in bliss at the feeling, her pussy so overloaded with sensation that it was several seconds before she realized that only about half of him was inside her.

She was taut around him, her vulva stretched wide, her walls clinging to his girth. Her girlish tightness made his size a hard thing to accommodate, and it had taken months of careful lovemaking before she had at last stretched to the point that his penis gave her more pleasure than pain. Now when he filled her, the pain was only a faint, delicious twang running under the storm of pleasure she felt from his broad head pressing deeper into her. She moaned from deep in her belly at the pulse of his heart beating against her tight grip.

He pulled out a little, then thrust again, his hips meeting her small round ass, his balls swinging to slap against her clit. She cried out again, the pain greater now but the pleasure more than keeping pace with it. He grunted above her, a lustful exhalation. She knew she was the only mare he’d ever been able to achieve full penetration with, thanks to her unusually large body. She was the best cock sock he could hope to find, and she felt her wetness running down the inside of her legs at the thought.

He pulled out and thrust again, his body meeting hers with a meaty slap. She gasped and thrashed her head against the bed, overwhelmed by the feeling of him inside her like this. His hoof touched her neck, pressing her cheek down into the bed, and she allowed it, tingling in anticipation of whatever her master had in mind.

His hoof moved to her horn, and she bit her lip as he pressed his hoof down on the side of it. It was a strange pressure, tugging at her skull, not pain but strange, very strange. He increased the weight on her horn gradually, and she panted at the increasing sensation of it. Then true pain began rising, and her eyes widened. “Yellow,” she squeaked.

He immediately eased off, reducing the weight until the pain disappeared. “Green,” she said, and hummed in pleasure at the feeling of being pinned, held down by his hoof on her horn. He smiled down at her, then set his face again in his dominant mask.

He leaned down, licking her cheek and her chin. She opened her mouth to him, wanting to kiss him, but he denied her the kiss she wanted, limiting himself to wetting her face with his tongue. She begged him with her eye, but he only grinned at her. Her clitoris throbbed, demanding attention.

He pressed his hips hard against her, flattening her firm little ass against him, the tip of his cock poking against her cervix. She tried to jump away from the sharp pain it caused, but could not move, pinned as she was between his hoof and his cock. She was afraid of the pain he could give her, and the fear only enhanced the pleasure he was filling her with, pleasure that was at his whim to give or deny. She panted whining breaths, drunk with the ecstasy of being entirely under his control.

He responded to that by pulling back and thrusting hard into her, slamming fully home, pressing against her cervix, adding just the right touch of pain to enhance her pleasure. The force of his thrust was enough to lift her back legs clear off the carpeted floor. He began thrusting hard and fast, repeatedly lifting her from the floor, spitting her on his tremendous cock. She panted in time with his thrusts, in time with the heat building in her groin.

She wanted nothing more than to thrust back against him, to meet his thrusts with her own, but pinned at the head and suspended at the tail, she could do nothing but be a passive receptacle for him to fuck into. She was just a toy. Just his toy. Delighted, she groaned at the thought.

Her hooves began crawling down the bed toward her crotch, as though they had minds of their own. She heard Fancypants’ horn light, and her hooves were seized again by his magic, pulling them spread-eagle and bending her shoulders back so that her arms were off the bed. Now she was truly helpless, with no point of leverage anywhere. She was truly a cock sock now, just a hot, wet tube for him to fill over and over until he was satisfied.

The fear of being restrained, the pleasure running through her body, and the bliss of her fantasy coming true overwhelmed Fleur, and she gave herself over completely to the sensations filling her, only able to moan quietly as Fancypants continued thrusting into her.

He pounded her body for long minutes, until her rump was tender and hot from his hips slapping against it, until her pussy cried out for relief from his cock on each thrust and cried out for more of his cock on each withdrawal. Her pink mane clung to her neck, sweaty and lank, and her horn throbbed under his hoof. She lay soundlessly, mouth open only to gulp air. Fancypants still held her unable to touch herself, and her every nerve tingled as she balanced on the edge of orgasm, not quite able to leap off into ecstasy. Her thoughts centered on the red-hot need in her groin, the ready tinder that would not quite burst into flame.

At last, the massive cock inside her missed a thrust, and her breathing sped up, knowing what that meant. His cock swelled, pressing against her walls, and she moaned in an agony of pleasure at the feeling, her eyes burning with desire and anticipation. Fancypants loomed over her, held frozen in that endless moment before his orgasm filled them both, and he grated out, “You come too, toy.”

Her eyes flew wide. The order flipped some switch inside her and an orgasm rose up and filled her brain with fire. “Ohhhh!” she wailed, and it became a scream as she was taken by surprise by her own body’s reaction. Above her, Fancypants gave a growling roar as his orgasm hit. He slammed his hips into her, holding himself tight against her quivering buttocks, and she felt the hot torrent of his cum pour into her in pulse after pulse. She always loved feeling him throb and shoot inside her, knowing that she was draining his balls of the cum she’d made him produce. This time, instead of a victory, each shot inside her felt like a gift her master was bestowing on her, and she loved it intensely. She lay passively, still pinned, still restrained, and listened to her own screams and yelps as her body convulsed around her, lost in the throes of a pleasure she had done nothing to earn. Being a toy was even better than she’d fantasized.

A long moment later, their orgasms ebbed. Fancypants pulled his softening length from her gaping pussy, accompanied by moans from both of them. He lifted his hoof from her horn and released her hooves from his magical restraints, then gently helped her onto the bed, where she sprawled out, completely exhausted. He climbed onto the bed and lay face-to-face with her. He smiled at her, his normal loving smile, his dominant persona shelved now that the game was over. She smiled back, and he reached out, putting his arms around her withinfinite tenderness.

She sniffled, the fear and tension of the scene ebbing out of her with the last aftershocks of her orgasm. He moved a hoof to stroke her mane, and she relaxed with a shuddering breath and shifted closer to him, nestling into the curve of his strong arm.

She raised her head to kiss him, a chaste, affectionate brush of the lips, and she smiled as she looked into his blue eyes. “Thank you,” she said, “for doing that for me. It was wonderful.”

He beamed at her, tired but happy. “Anything for the mare I love.”

She snuggled against his chest. “I love you too.”

Within a minute they were both asleep, the afternoon sun slanting in through the windows casting a warm glow over their smiling faces.

Author’s Note: The original version of this story was written for Sexty Minute Ponies’ prompt #12, “A Pony’s Best Friend,” in which the prompt was “Somepony’s favorite toy.” The FiMFiction version has been expanded and edited.