The Nowhere King

“…and then that part where two of them burst through a cloud and it turned into a star!”

“Or that new trick with the synchronized lightning strikes!”

“And when they buzzed the stands together during that final flyover right as the sun went down!”

Gallus nodded, a dopey grin on his beak. “I just can’t get enough of formation flying. I can’t imagining flying in a totally straight line, just feathers from another flier.”

Sandbar bumped his flank into the griffon’s side. “I can’t imagine you doing anything straight.”

Gallus’ beak dropped open. “Hey! Was that a burn?!” He faked a sniffle. “My little pony’s all big and tough now!”

Sandbar blushed fiercely and leaned over to whisper in the griffon’s ear. “I’ll show you big.”

“Mm. Yes, please,” the griffon responded, “I think that’d make for a great sketch.”

Sandbar coughed and nearly stumbled. In all the excitement, he’d nearly forgotten about that little revelation. He hurried to catch up to the griffon.

As they re-entered their lavish hotel room, Sandbar nuzzled Gallus and locked the door. The griffon ran a claw down the pony’s side, eliciting a shiver of excitement. “So,” he asked, “were you serious about modeling for me?”

The pony bit his lip and nodded.

“Good!” the griffon crowed, “because I have a piece that I’ve been working on that I just can’t get right. Let me grab it.” The griffon floated up into the air and landed beside his suitcase. He rummaged behind scarves and grooming supplies until he pulled out a scroll and a small nub of charcoal. He walked back to the small desk that stood just to the side of the magnificent windows, and he smoothed out the scroll on its surface.

Sandbar moved to take a look as the griffon unrolled the paper. Gallus shooed him away. “You can see when it’s done!”

“Aww,” Sandbar whined. “Not even a peek?”

Gallus grinned and shook his head. “It’s not ready yet. Now go stand over by the bed.”

The earth pony shrugged and walked toward the plush bed.

“Good. Now turn around a little.”

Sandbar turned to face the griffon.

Gallus cleared his throat and felt his cheeks flush. “No. The other direction.”

Sandbar whinnied. “You’ve been drawing my plot?”

Gallus shifted nervously. “Uh, yeah.”

The earth pony turned slowly around and flicked his tail up for a moment. “Naughty griff,” he teased.

Gallus’ loins reacted to the sight. “Unf. More like knotty griff, soon.”

Sandbar laughed and turned his head back to stare at the griffon’s underside beneath the desk. “I see what you did there.” The stallion’s own length starting dropping down.

Gallus grunted and started scribbling hurriedly. “This is way more distracting that I thought it would be.”

“Well,” the pony said, lifting his tail again and holding it steady, his rear on full display, “you come on over here whenever you get done with that, and I’ll really distract you.”

Gallus furrowed his brow and carefully rubbed away a bit of stray dust on the scroll with a wingtip. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Shush, I’m horny. I don’t have to make sense.”

Gallus nodded in agreement.

The griffon sketched away, trying to stay focused on his art, but the harder he got looking at his pony’s backside, the harder it was to pay attention to his art. Finally, he threw up his wings. “Good enough!”

Sandbar grinned and trotted over, his dark shaft bouncing around below his body. Gallus moaned at the sight. The earth pony turned the scroll around and stared. Gallus suddenly felt nervous, having someone else look at his work. Especially someone so important to him.

The earth pony nodded appreciatively. “It’s really good,” he said. Gallus blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “Is my flank really that big though?”

Gallus stood up and grabbed the flank in question. “Yes. Shut up. It’s perfect.” The griffon squeezed firmly, making the pony moan. “Can I have it?”

Sandbar whined. “We didn’t bring lube, remember?”

Gallus crowed triumphantly. “That’s where griffon ingenuity comes in.” He reluctantly released his grip on the pony and sauntered to the small travel bag. He pulled out a vial of yellow fluid. He gave it a shake and watched a thin veil of liquid coat the glass as it slid down. “Olive oil,” he said mischievously. “Not perfect, but pretty good in a pinch. Or a thrust.”

Sandbar’s staff lurched upward. “Ooh,” he said, “that’s what you were buying at market?”

“So, your flank?” the griffon asked again, “can I have it?”

Sandbar walked over and kissed the griffon. Gallus felt the pony’s wide tongue push into his mouth, rubbing against his own. Sandbar licked the roof of the griffon’s mouth as he pulled back. “Always,” he said, his tone quiet and intense.

Gallus grinned. “So, like, in the middle of class if I’m horny?”

The earth pony swatted the griffon’s chest with a hoof. “Shut up, I’m trying to be sexy.”

Gallus kissed the pony, spreading his beak wide around the opening of the pony’s muzzle. He pulled back slowly. “You don’t have to try, silly pony.” He pushed Sandbar insistently towards the bed. The pony let himself be pushed, walking backwards. Gallus gave a final, light shove and Sandbar flopped into the bed. The griffon grabbed the pony’s flanks and pulled, coaxing Sandbar onto his back. The pony’s dark staff dribbled precum onto the green fur of his stomach. Gallus felt a fresh surge of appreciation that this funny, weird, friendly, and overwhelmingly sexy pony was his. “I love you,” he whispered.

Sandbar grinned. “Love you too,” he said simply. He lifted his back legs apart, and Gallus felt his staff tighten in excitement. The griffon popped the vial of oil open and carefully tipped it to the side. It ran down his talons and into the palm of his claw. It was a good deal thinner than the lube they had gotten used to, but it would do. Especially with how worked up he already was. He applied the wetness quickly to his shaft, and then slowly slid a talon down to the pony’s hole.

“Ohh,” Sandbar whined.

Gallus’ cock jumped at the sound.

The griffon pushed in, forcing himself to take his time.

The earth pony’s shaft twitched and shivered.

“Aw fuck,” the griffon whined. He pushed a second slick talon in, and let the digits slowly spread the pony apart. His other claw reached forward and stroked the length of the dark shaft in front of him. It surged under the attention and wetness appeared at the tip. Gallus felt his own member throb in sympathy. “Ready?” he asked.

The pony simply nodded.

Gallus pulled his claw out and then straddled the pony. He positioned his throbbing need on the slickened opening. He pushed. The intense, immediate pressure on his tapered tip made him whimper in pleasure. Sandbar moaned below him.

As the pony relaxed, the griffon pushed deeper, slowly and smoothly. The oil was doing its job, he noted absently. After another brief pause, feeling the pony tightening around the shaft and then release, he leaned forward, putting his back into the motion. He was in to the top of his knot. He moaned and the pony below him whimpered. “Still good?” he asked, his breathing getting shaky.

The pony’s shaft surged, momentarily flaring. Sandbar nodded and pushed his body into the griffon.

Gallus pulled back, away from the pressure and began to thrust. The electric tightness and squeezing of his pony’s insides was already getting him close. Sandbar cried out in pleasure at the apex of every thrust, his cock leaking clear fluid and flaring at nearly every pass. Gallus felt his knot tighten and he gasped. He pushed firmly, just as the pony pushed back into him, and Gallus felt his knot squeezed by the pony’s ring. The griffon crowed in pleasure and shoved, putting the leonine strength of his back legs to work. He slipped inside and was overcome by pleasure. He pumped his hips, his flesh trapped inside his pony, the rhythmic clenching too much to take, too much to bear, and he began to climax.

His claws gripped Sandbar’s midsection tightly and he unloaded, pouring his seed into his stallion. He could feel the rush in his loins, as he spasmed, each burst glorious and distinct but the sensations rolling into one of overarching satisfaction.

Sandbar cried out, and the griffon watched in joy as the dark shaft flared and the pony writhed underneath him. A rope of cum jettisoned from the staff and arced through the air, eventually drawing a line from the pony’s stomach to the pillow beside his head. Sandbar came again, again, crying out wordlessly, cum spilling onto his chest and muzzle and stomach. Each burst was accompanied by a tight contraction that squeezed the griffon’s knot tightly.

The two slowly relaxed, the tension draining from their bodies. Gallus collapsed on top of the green pony’s chest. The stallion’s seed smeared between them. Their breathing slowed.

“Light,” Sandbar said huskily, “I love having sex with you.” He shifted his rear uncomfortably. “Even if this part is difficult.”

Gallus sighed and smiled blissfully. “Give it a minute to go down a little,” he chided. “You know teasing it just keeps it hard.” He yawned, suddenly sleepy.

Sandbar echoed the yawn. “Oh, don’t start that,” he complained. “I don’t wanna fall asleep without a shower.”

Gallus nodded, seeing the wisdom in that idea. The smell of stallion seed, and olive oil, and cotton sheets, and his own rutting musk filled his nostrils. It was good.

The air was clean and cool, and the sun was shining bright. Perfect day for a flight. Gallus winged through the sky, his teammates at his side. The climbed vertically until their bodies stalled, and, as one, they whipped around and dove toward the ground. Gallus whooped, feeling the wind in his crest and ruffling along his wings.

The ground approached with frightening velocity, and Gallus banked his wings, sending his body rocketing away, parallel to the ground. He tilted, strafing, knowing that his wingmates would be doing the same, creating a criss-cross pattern of fliers. It was a Wonderbolt signature move.

Gallus blinked. Since when was he a Wonderbolt? Hadn’t he just been watching them fly? He glanced behind his wing, and where a moment before had been the Wonderbolt squad, there were a group of griffons. Gallus started and nearly crashed into a cream-colored griffon strafing in his direction. Gallus quickly adjusted his maneuver to the approved pattern.

Wait, how did he know the approved pattern? When had he learned it?

He had to be dreaming. That realization caused the air around him to vibrate, and the griffons behind him vanished. Gallus slowed his wings and gaped. Had he done that?

“Okay,” he said aloud. Or aloud in a dream. He wasn’t sure that actually counted. He shook his head. “Okay, if I’m dreaming, then why can I think clearly?” He thought he could think clearly, anyway. The griffon remembered having dreams before, and his mind had always seemed fuzzy. At least… he thought he remembered that.

“Argh!” he yelled. “Too much uncertainty.” He tried to clear his head. He closed his eyes.

He gasped as the air around him shifted. It was like diving into a pond in autumn—cold doused him from head to talon to tail. His eyes shot open. He was in Canterlot. In his hotel. A strange, suffuse light filled the space, making it neither light nor dark. He could see no light source, but there were no shadows, even under his legs.

“This is weird,” he mumbled. “Even for a dream.”

Sandbar wasn’t in bed. In fact, the bed was neatly made. Maybe Sandbar had already gotten up and gone to breakfast?

The moment he had that thought, he felt the world shift around him. Light and dark moved nauseatingly fast, blurring, until he was in the hotel’s breakfast buffet. No creature stirred, no food filled the empty tables. The same half-light filled the space. Gallus shivered, and not due to the cold—it was neither hold nor cold. This dream was getting weirder and weirder. Out of the corner of his eye, Gallus saw something in the buffet shift. He turned, wary, to find the area around one table was shimmering, as if a large, clear bubble suddenly filled the space. He approached cautiously. As he neared, the light inside the bubble shimmered, and the griffon had to shield his eyes for a moment as normal-seeming daylight shone within the space. Once his eyes adjusted, he peered in.

Yona sat a table, a huge pile of pancakes sat before her. The yak was shoveling the sweet breakfast into her mouth with one hoof, while the other held open a textbook. “Yak study hard. Yak eat harder!” Her voice was distorted, like she was underwater instead of right beside him, inside the strange bubble. Gallus backed away. Maybe he’d eaten something that was causing him to hallucinate?

The world shifted and blurred, and the griffon was suddenly standing the in the middle of Canterlot square. It took him a moment to realize that this would be where the market usually stood, only there were no stalls or carts now. He groaned. “Okay, so I think of the last thing I ate and I wind up at the apple stall, I get it.” He shook his head, wondering at the strange logic that seemed to control this dream.

He looked around the square. It reminded him too much of Griffonstone’s plaza—empty and barren.

“HALT!” A booming voice commanded. Gallus flinched and looked around for the source. A speeding blur slammed into the paving stones in front of him and unfolded in the form of a large, dark alicorn.

The princess! Gallus racked his brain for her name. Not Celestia, the other one. The moon one. “Gah! Why am I so bad with names?” He bowed low and decided to take a guess. “Princess… Moona?”

The alicorn regarded him strangely. “Luna,” she corrected in an imperious tone. “You are the griffon from Twilight’s school, are you not?”

Gallus kept his head bowed. “Yeah, that’s me. Gallus of Griffonstone.”

“So you say.” Her voice dripped with mistrust. “Tell me then, what are you doing in the Umbral Realm?”

Gallus stood back up slowly. “The where now?”

Luna seemed to relax slightly at his confusion. “A drifter, then. Consider this just a strange dream. When you wake you will likely not even remember.” She waved a long hoof in his direction, dismissively.

Gallus grunted. The world tried to bend and shift around him. It tugged at his body and mind. The griffon dug in his claws, holding himself in place. “What are you doing?”

The alicorn gasped. “Impossible!” she said in awe. She lowered her hoof and the twisting sensation around Gallus vanished. Luna’s horn lit, preparing some spell. “There are no more Dream Striders.” She lowered her horn until it was pointed right at the griffon. “I ask you again, creature, what are you?” Her voice implied a threat that was perfectly clear from the horn.

“I’m a griffon. Geez, Princess!” He took a nervous step backward. “Put that thing away! What’s going on? Is this another of your weird dream things?” He took another step backward. “I gotta say, I like the one you helped me and Sandbar share way better than whatever this is.”

The princess’ horn stilled and lost its glow. A strange look passed through her stern features. Amusement, Gallus thought. “You recall that dream?”

Gallus snorted and, despite his discomfort and general unease, felt himself get a little hard. That dream had been incredible—what had felt like hours of sex, with neither the griffon or earth pony ever tiring or running dry. “Uh, yeah. Basically the best thing ever.”

A small blush appeared on the alicorn’s cheeks for a fraction of a moment. “You are who you claim then. Incredible.”

Gallus shrugged. “I mean, I like to think so.”

Luna laughed, a light, tinkling sound, so at odds with the stern, angry pony she had seemed moments before. “I believe you may possess an incredible gift, young griffon. One I have not seen in anypony since my return from exile.”

Gallus swallowed nervously.

The alicorn stepped forward, cautiously, and offered her hoof. “The Umbral Realm can be a dangerous place for an untrained Dream Strider.” Gallus carefully put a claw on her hoof. “I would ask that you attend me at my Lunar Court as soon as possible. We have much to discuss. For now,” she continued, “close your eyes.”

Gallus complied, finding no reason to resist.

“Return to your body,” Luna’s voice said. It seemed to come from everywhere around him.

“What? How?”

“Sight can deceive here. Trust in sound, smell, taste, and touch." She paused, considering, "though they, too, may deceive. Nothing is as it seems in this Realm. For now, though, focus."

Gallus concentrated. There. A bouquet of scents, seemingly a million miles away: olive oil, and cotton sheets, and the smell of Sandbar's fur, and (he blushed) drying spunk.

Gallus gasped awake. His limbs were tangled on top of his pony and he tried to slowly extricate himself. Sandbar shifted, opening his eyes. “Oh, hey,” the pony said groggily. “I think we fell asleep.” The stallion yawned broadly. “I’ll shower.. in the.. morn…” the green pony’s voice drifted off, and he was quickly back asleep.

There was no way Gallus was getting any more sleep that night. He got up and padded his way to the bathroom.

“I still think you should tell Headmare Twilight,” Ocellus said, nervously flitting around the dragon.

Smolder fixed her with a tough stare. “It. Was. A. Dream.”

The changeling was undeterred, much to the dragon’s consternation. “Yeah. A terrifying dream.” She shivered. “A dream so scary you woke up and slashed me.”

Smolder flinched.

“So why don’t we tell someone?”

“Because he’s just a bogey monster. A tall tale dragons tell—and you know how we love our stories larger than life.”

Smolder nodded slowly.

“My parents told me so many horrible stories about the Nowhere King trying to scare me into obedience. The monster who eats dragon fledglings who disobey their parents. The Thing that lurks in the shadows in every cave. The Eater of Dreams.” She blew a raspberry. “Guess I listened to too many of their stupid tales.”

Ocellus landed softly and brushed her side against the dragon softly. “And you’re sure that’s all it is?”

Smolder snorted. “I’m pretty sure we’d know if some ancient terror was really snatching up dragons.” She pulled the changeling into the briefest of hugs. “Now come on, I promised we’d go get ice cream!”