Cum On The Dance Floor 3: Trixie's Circus Of Flying Fucks

What started as a small-time show developed into a full-blown carnival. Trixie Lulamoon took her circus on the road, the carnies like a plague of locusts sweeping across the regions without signs of stopping, converting entire villas to their cause.

Gathered with her were a number of converts like her; stallions and mares who'd partaken of an experimental drug which had permanently warped their minds and turned them into little more than hedonistic thrill-seekers who wanted nothing more than to spread this newfound pleasure far-and-wide. Yet they had enough sense to stick to areas outside Celestia's jurisdiction.

Of course it proved difficult to carry out her old act now that she couldn't speak. Flash and pyrotechnics would have to carry her shows. But with the increased numbers and bits too increase her props that proved little concern.

Among those she'd collected for her pleasure crusade were Shining Armor, Big Mac, Pacific Glow, Vinyl Scratch, Octavia, Bon Bon, Lyra, Fleur de Lis, and Fiddlesticks. Between their skills and talents it wasn't difficult to pull in fresh recruits.

Fireworks erupted in cascades of bright colors across the skies. Many of the revelers were masked, and openly fornicated, a mass of sweaty bodies which gyrated to the music the DJ played. Grunts escaped Mac and Shiny, who jerked themselves, and unloaded onto the eager mares who crowded around the stage, showering them and filling their mouths with spunk.

More of them would push their way through the crowds, and they'd empty their balls, soaking manes, matting coats, and staining flesh with a flood of white. Slurps sounded when they licked it up, rubbing the release into themselves.

Trixie laid back and spread her thighs. She mashed a hoof to her moist, sopping cunt, moaning and masturbating to the lewd displays before her. Stallion and mare cum drenched the stage. She rubbed her bottom in the mixture, her cheeks burning. Lusty moans escaped her, eyes rolling into her head. Her marehood quaked, her legs shaking as another climax overtook her.

She squirted so far it rained across the onlookers. Spray-after-spray funneled out of her widened pussy. Glistened and opened so wide her cervix was visible, each contraction synced with her clenching asshole. Trying to ride out all the multiple orgasms possible, she lit her horn, wrapped her breasts in her aura, then yanked upon them, her tits and nipples fully distended.

Dancers continued to thrash and grinded on each other amidst her feminine shower. Mares were licking it off one-another, a bit of foreplay to excite the watching males, who quickly started to spear them with their flared erections. Lewd squishes sounded while they fucked like rabid animals. Not a hole was left unstuffed while the twinkling stars and pale moon started to peek out.

Inviting new stallions onstage, they ran a train on her and the other females, often plugging all three of their fuckholes at once, cum still oozing out of gaping orifices when another replaced the last stud. Their bodies were rocked between brutal thrusts, the maremeat reaching out forehooves to stroke those waiting, precum dripping from their tips.

Those who weren't busy being fucked wrestled in basins of cum, which spectators happily provided. And when this grew boring, Trixie plunged rockets into her foalhole, risking death for a thrill when she squeezed and shot them out, tittering merrily when they exploded in mid-air with loud whines. Her eyes turned starry, forcing more up her cunt and rectum, mashing dozens in.

Pacific Glow relished her new role as a living toilet, guzzling down almost a bucket's worth of spunk, to the point her belly distended like she'd been impregnated. Hooves were wrapped around her pigtails, her eyes glazed and face smeared while she was skullfucked, more dicks pinning her between them while they brutalized her stretched asshole and sopping pussy.

Vinyl laughed at a wad of cum that stained her turntable, licking it up while she scratched a record. Near her Octavia stood on her backhooves, twerking whorishly to cheers, the white emissions that drenched her physique dripping downwards.

Despite repeated attempts Fleur couldn't take Mac and Shining into her mouth at once, and so with a pout, she settled on switching between them every few bobs. She hardly noticed when some random males started to ravage her unprotected entrances, so intent on servicing the two studs who stood and towered over her, guiding her head rather brutishly.

Lyra and Bon Bon were in a sixty-nine position, greedily lapping the splooge from their lover's sexholes, their love for each other intact even now.

And Fiddlesicks was fiddling away, bouncing atop the spiny dragonhood of Garble, so thick it bottomed out in her womb and threatened to rip her open. His weaponized cock scraped her insides, each time he impaled her a risk that it would be the last.

Such debauchery continually ensued with no signs of slowing, day and night little more than twisted bliss...

*****

“This has gone way too far,” snapped Starlight who watched from the distance. They weren't supposed to interfere, Celestia and Luna expressly forbidding it, despite how much it pained them. They had to respect the laws of other realms, no matter how much they disagreed.

However, she'd decided to go rogue, figuring she'd pay whatever consequences came later.

But they were symptoms, not the source of the disease. Turning on her hooves in disgust, she'd noted all the clubs where the mind-shattering drugs had been used, and the poor victims had fallen prey to the unknown substance. She decided to start with the underground rave club, once a frequent haunt of Vinyl Scratch and Pacific Glow before they'd moved on.

Rather than bother with the bouncers, she teleported straight inside, immediately assaulted by the pounding music and flashing strobe lights. Perspiration-soaked ponies were busy whirling under a disco ball, the floor tiles shifting a myriad of colors.

A forehoof brushed her shapely flanks. “Hey cutie, how'd you like to-” She glared with unbridled fury, almost snapping his foreleg when she tossed him off. He tucked his tail behind his legs, rushing away.

Normally she would have shrugged it off, but pained by the loss of Trixie in particular, she had no patience for anypony else right now, least of all some loser hoping to get lucky. Eyes darting around, she spotted a blocked off area, and trotted up the stairs over the signs.

A few bouncers on the second floor moved to stop her. Despite how burly they were, she easily wrapped them up in her aura, and casually tossed them aside. Their sunglasses rolled away in the dark hallway, stunned.

She marched right up to the boss's room and kicked it open. “Show yourself,” she demanded with her teeth clenched and a vein practically popping.

At the desk was a chair turned from her. The shades were drawn, closing them in gloom. Slowly the owner turned. “Calm down,” said Spike with a toothy smirk. He was tall and well-chiseled, having received quite a growth spurt, making the handsome drake nigh-unrecognizable. “Hey there, Starlight Glimmer.” He waved away his guards. “What'cha need?”