Author's Note

Written as a request from a patron.
Contains: Soarin', Spitfire, Stormy Flare; anthro; sex, anal, oral sex, maledom, objectification

Equipment Management

The wet and meaty rhythmical sounds of a cock sliding in and out of a mare's vagina and of a stallion's thighs slapping against her ass echoed around the mostly empty training room, and Spitfire couldn't ignore them no matter how hard she tried. Nor could she ignore the moans coming from the mare in question, and she was starting to miss when it was the mare's throat that was being fucked instead.

For a moment, while she kept working out, the sounds stopped, and she hoped it was over. Then they picked up again. Anal sex this time, judging by the shift in the moans' pitch. She groaned, let go of her training weights with a loud thud, and turned towards the source of the sounds. "Are you done yet?" she barked.

Stormy Flare was too busy drooling and getting her ass fucked to acknowledge her daughter, but Soarin' did turn towards her as he kept on thrusting. "Why? It's not like you'd be using her."

Spitfire bit down on her lip, but she was forced to turn and look away. She could only stare at the naked stallion sliding his massive shaft in and out of her mother's ass for so long before she started to leak, and she didn't want that happening. Soarin''s glistening muscles and Stormy's sex-drunk expression only made it worse. She shut her thighs together, crossed her arms over her ample chest, and pouted. "You're distracting me."

"Oh, really?" Soarin' kept thrusting with mechanical precision. "You know I need my cock exercises, Spit'. You can just come back later."

Spitfire didn't answer. Nor did she dare turn back. The smell was getting to her head and she knew she was getting wet even without looking at the scene. "Do you have to use my mother for it?" she spit out.

"Well, she does make for a great tool for the job," Soarin' explained. "And you didn't seem to have a problem when I let Thunderlane try her. Are you sure you're not jealous?"

Spitfire had to bite her own tongue not to yelp, and she felt her nipples go hard. Could he? No, there was no way. "Jealous of what?" she asked, still refusing to look at the other two.

"That you're not the one getting used," Soarin' simply replied, while he kept on fucking Stormy's ass. "You're not the one who's getting her holes stretched out by the best cock in the Wonderbolts. You're not the one who's getting to spend her life as a training tool for my dick."

Spitfire's legs were shaking, and she was distantly aware that she was hyperventilating. "S-so what?!" she pushed out between shaking breaths. She wasn't even sure of what she was saying, too busy fighting against her own arousal. It was all true, all tearing away at her sanity, so tantalisingly close and yet so far. "It's not like you'd use me anyway! You already have my mother!"

"I could always use a second training tool," Soarin' casually said, "I'm sure you're aware I'm far from spent after using a single mare. Too bad you're busy being the Captain of the Wonderbolts." He threw Spitfire a piercing glance, or so it felt to her at least as she still did not look his way. "I guess you could always give up your role for this. But what kind of slut would do that, right?"

Spitfire's vision was swimming. She was panting hard, leaking from her nethers, and she wouldn't have been able to speak with all the drool coming from her mouth. It was all too much for her. She finally turned, to see Soarin' still mechanically pounding away at her mother's ass. She tripped on her hooves and fell too her knees, hands barely catching her in time.

Her mother just kept moaning, without even glancing at her. Soarin' did spare her a look though. "That's not quite a position for a Wonderbolts's captain to be in. It's more fitting for a fucktoy like your mother."

Something snapped inside Spitfire. She tore off all her clothes, letting her heavy breasts spill free, and crawled obediently towards Soarin'. He smiled at her, drew his shaft back from her mother's ass, gripped Spitfire's mane, and began to plunge into her throat with the same rhythmical cadence he'd used up to that point.