Author's Note

This is a strand-type chapter. With anilingus.

Shoutouts to ShadowWolf.

The First Shackle.

1. The First Shackle.

“Hff, hff! HNG! Guh…” You sucked for breath beneath the leviathan riding atop your back, the steely claws and sinewy arms strapped tight around you with punishing mass. Boots dug into the dirt and clawed up the brutal slope, cutting treads catching on the loose soil and bearing your incredible burden. Clammy hands shook and bulged with your veins pumping rivers of supercharged blood, total exhaustion held at bay by the most meager of defenses.

You weak breaths streamed from your mouth in a haze of fatigue, cool breezes peeling off clouds of hot musk from your sweating body. Autumn air burned as it touched your skin, the sharp zaps normally something you wouldn’t have paid mind to. But now, when you were so tired and so strained, cool breezes came like blasts of fire.

“My King, might I have another one of those delicious wheat bars?” The lazy and sassy pony cooed from your shoulder, riding carefree atop your backpack. You grunted and took another one of the sugary confections from your pocket, almost a dozen of them stacked tightly together. Your shaking hand presented it to the lounging Queen, her bulk, your pack and her pack stacked high on your spine.

“Yeah, yeah… here you go, Bab.” You wheezed, slouching forward in a pitiful hobble of a man. She crunched away joyfully and kissed on your ear, running her snake-like tongue across your jaw in a taunting show of affection. Her breath smelled of chocolate chips and sugar, the syrupy sweetness adding to her plush curves.

“How much longer, my Love? I dread to think of dragging you up this atrocious hill myself.” You snickered weakly to yourself, wishing quite badly that she would- at the very least- drag herself up the hill.

The forest parted around you two and snaked down the path cut through the otherwise thick and dark landscape. Sun shone through the splotchy canopy above, the red and orange leaves casting moody light on your sweat stains and ragged breaths. The campsite wasn’t too far. You remembered it exactly from the numerous times you had come out here with your family, though never with Umbra in tow.

Convincing her to go was a matter of diplomacy, sweet talking, proverbial brown nosing and eventually, literal brown nosing. She refused up and down to spend her weekend “cloistered in a vile forest,” regardless if the rest of the family was going to be there or not. She reviled the very scenario of walking the full three miles, sleeping in a tent and eating meals cooked on an open fire. It offended her deepest sensibilities, ones of dignity, royalty and reverence. You couldn’t even woo her into it, promising cuddles by the fire and long nights coupling in the steamiest, rankest sex funk ponies could create. Derpy vouched for you, but Umbra remained entirely unconvinced.

Until you promised to haul her and every one of her essentials for the full trip AND “kiss her backside,” she did not budge. The plan you had concocted barely worked, ramshackle and clumsy as it already was. But you had her, now. She was on her own with you, Dinky and Derpy travelling seperate to reach the site before you. With a little while to walk and content laziness on Umbra’s mind, you figured it was the best time to nag her about Twilight’s orders.

“You remember- HUP! How I was trying to tell you something the other night?” Umbra shrugged at your words, adjusting herself atop your pair of knapsacks.

“I vaguely recall not wishing to discuss it.” She answered, though without much interest behind her voice.

“Yeah. You mentioned that.” Your sharp gasps matched her grumble and groan, Umbra clearly displeased with this turn of events.

“Urgh… my King? Have you deceived me? Truly and without shame? How is it that only now, I see through your ‘camping’ ruse?” You snickered as her hooves came down around your head, squeezing and stroking gracing your cheeks.

“You wanted to avoid me? I got you trapped. So are you ready- HMPH! To listen?” Umbra sighed and applied mock slaps to your cheeks, plapping each one gently with the frogs of her soft and manicured hooves.

“If you weren’t so handsome and devious, I would destroy you, Anonymous.” You smiled to yourself and kissed her hoof, hoping that the affection might dull her frustration. Your Queen was infamous for her ability to worm away from any situation she disliked, dodging and avoiding you like roach would glaring light.

“Listen. It’s not that me and Derpy don’t trust you, or dislike what your’re teaching.”

“Mh. Yes. Just that I am me. Therefore I must be up to mischievous doings?” She huffed dismissively, drooping over your neck like a sweaty scarf.

“Look- hng! Far as we’re concerned, we already talked this through. No evil stuff, no murder and no summoning demons. You remember?”

“Yes, Anonymous. I recall. The ‘contract’ I signed confirms this.”

“Hff, ah- right! So don’t get me wrong. I’m happy you’re teaching her, Bab. I’m pleased as can be with you!” Umbra perked at such a thing, a tiny smile returning to her muzzle as you spoke well on her. Perhaps the only mare you knew that loved compliments more than Derpy. Aloof and grumpy as your wife was, she could still crumble like dust when given the right material to work with.

“But- HLK! But the Princess is getting concerned. She’s riding my ass about runes and that mess, you know?”

“As I imagined she would. Twilight is a neurotic soul.” You nodded in agreement, leaning your head back so Umbra could lick the sweat dripping from your brow. It came across as pretty foul the first time she did it, savoring your salty and unusual flavor with a perverted delight you couldn’t sit with comfortably. But, after hundreds of helpful licks keeping stingy drippings from your eyes, you had learned to happily accept the help.

“You’re not wrong, but listen. You gotta help me out here, Baby.” She scoffed and pat your head, shimmying herself forward until her arms could snake about your neck like another pair of backpack straps.

“You could not reason with them, my King? You couldn’t assert the honor of your poor Queen?” A shake of your head tried to signal to the contrary, but your actions came across more as a nuzzle against Umbra’s fluffy cheek. Though, a nuzzle she gladly embraced.

“I ain’t up to me, Bab. It seriously ain’t.” The campsite couldn’t have been too far from where you stood, a rather harsh incline standing between you and the salvation of a relaxing weekend.

“You know I trust you. Bab, I know YOU know, that I’d never leave my daughter with someone I didn’t have the fullest faith in.”

“But?” Your Queen huffed, drilling into the side of your head with sickly green eyes and shredding red irises.

“But… you gotta take one for the team. It’s great you wanna help. But for my sake, for Dinky’s sake, for your own sake. You gotta stop, man.” Blood pooled in your brain and refused to swirl evenly as your heart pounded in your chest, a massive swoon nearly knocking you over when Umbra suffocated you with her abundant fluff.

The brooding and charcoal colored Queen sighed into your ear as the words bounced about in her skull, the echoing pings and dents made by your sharp points weathering at her thoughts. Umbra wanted to deny this, the mare wanted nothing more than to reject such a blasphemous notion. How cruel could ponies be, as to rip a half-mother from her half-daughter? What depths would they not plunge, what heights would they not soar to in order to keep her chained? Did she simply not suffer enough for their tastes? Was it to be that her new hopes and dreams for a future would lay buried next to the old?

Weights hung by metallic hooks pulled and sagged on her heart, threatening to wrench it from her chest. Educating Dinky was never about “being a helping hand” or “taking the load off” Anon and Derpy. Had it been such a surface-level commitment, the mare would never hurt for this sacrifice. Her heart would not bleed for a loss so small and forgivable… but the flows of proverbial life oozed from her chest hottly in the autumn sunlight.

What was she to do, childless? The Queen could hardly see herself standing by as her half-daughter, a filly that was almost her own flesh and blood lead a normal, boring life. The very image of a normal and miserable Dinky burned worse than her branding, sizzling skin and cooking muscle nothing in comparison to the crushing blow brought down on her. Umbra slid down from your shoulders and hit the ground on her hooves, a puff of loose dirt ringing out from around her. You had to stop and turn to face her, the solemn look scouring her expression quite unusual for the mare.

“And you… you doth truly place your heart with me?” She murmured, bringing her sullen eyes to your own. Sweating and huffing and exhausted, this theatrical drama was enough to kill you. Watching Umbra kick at the dirt with bashful sadness thrust an icy spear through your chest. The cold crept through your boiling chest, pressing out an exasperated sigh from your dry throat.

“Yes. Always and forever.” You said, trying your best to sound genuine as possible.

“I don’t want anything but the best for my little girl. And… I’ll say it. God damn it! You’re the only one I want teaching her!” You stomped your foot to make the proclamation weighty and poignant as possible, though the slight bounce only made you swoon from side to side gracelessly. Umbra flinched, however, quite taken aback by the language. She so rarely heard you swear, especially foreign swears known only to your human tongue.

“We all gotta take a hit on this one. Derpy’s not happy, I’m not and I’m sure you aren’t.” She shook her head as you approached her, your kneeling posture met by her horn pressing into your chest. Her mane had been stretched back and bundled into the tightest bun that Derpy could make, but strands still fought free and sprung from her otherwise smooth shape. Tickling fibers teased your chin and neck as she nuzzled into you, Umbra always particularly snuggly when she was in need of thinking. Deciding on a painting topic, mulling over which incantations to show Dinky- her ideas were almost infallible if they were dreamed up sprawled across your chest.

You knew to hold her, then. Experience told you to bring the pony close and give her a gentle smothering for her thoughts.

“And this is purely the Princess? My King truly appreciates my teachings?” You snickered at her redundancy and smooched between her eyes, mindful not to take your own eye out with the barb she called a horn. Her wiggle of enjoyment was palpable in the air, a slight rustle of meticulously brushed fur shuddering in the wind.

“A hundred percent, Bab.” She smiled and kissed your chest, melting as your fingers combed over her neck. Umbra wiggled as you touched her, feeling more and more at ease with the situation as your hands did their sacred work.

“Pfeh… give your Queen that loathsome pack, my Dear. Your poor spine must be decimated.” Your little laugh brought flutters to her heavy heart, a pair of saddle bags gingerly sliding over her flanks. She buckled slightly under their weight, but found some comfort with her fiddling and shaking. They sat snuggly on her rotund body, bulging out and across her stomach.

“It shouldn’t be far now, Bab. C’mon.”

You found camp set up precisely as expected, though perhaps less “efficiently” than you truly wanted. The circle of trees surrounding your cleared area had begun to creep in with brambles and vines, fighting to steal your comfortable roost away. No fire burned in the pit, though the wood and utensils still waited idly beneath a tarp nearby. A duo of tents whimpered in the breeze, the much smaller one standing with far more confidence and integrity. Someone had clearly put it up with skill and speed, the taut canvas bristling with firm support and respectable structure. The other barely clung to its upright posture, sagging to one side and threatening to come down at the slightest threat.

“Boo! How was the walk?” Your wife greeted, her own things unpacked and laid out in the smooth grass. You dropped your cargo by the wilting tent and stretched yourself, hoping the crushed joints in your spine could pop back to life.

“Easiest hike so far.” You lied, swiveling your head about for the other grey mare. Dinky wandered about the periphery of the campsite, combing through the brush with a jar hanging in her magic.

“HEY BABYGIRL! You catch anything yet?!” Your voice sent a myriad of things scattering to the breeze, bugs and birds and many other creatures clearing out quickly to avoid the booming noise.

“POPPY! I almost had a lycosidae pardosa!” Your daughter hollered back, her whiny pitch communicating her frustration. While you couldn’t possibly have known what kind of bug or spider or whatever she was talking about, you had an idea of where she was. For a father, that was the only thing you needed to be comfortable. Umbra lumbered behind you, sucking for breath and whining as her small satchel of things clattered to the Earth.

“Ugh… UGH! This had better be worth it, human!”

“Oh yeah. You’ll see.” You answered curtly and started off toward your target. Both boots moved with purpose and need, closing the short distance between your lips and an equine in desperate need of kissing. Derpy had foolishly taken her eyes off you, sorting through the parcels of food she had brought for the trip. Her great big butt stood vulnerable and unprotected, letting you swoop in and snag the helpless wife from her hooves.

“WHUP- Bubby!” Derpy giggled and kicked as she was kidnapped by the dastardly human, her nostrils flaring and her wings fluttering with helpless beats. Her laughs turned into snorts and playful jabs at your face, her tail lashing in eager whips from side to side.

“You. Me. In the tent.” You said simply, ducking into the shabby enclosure.

“OOH! Oh goodness gracious! Bubby you’re so forward!” She squealed and yipped as you laid her across the unfurled sleeping bag, the herd’s nest already set up as best the mare could make it. Two sleeping bags had been set across the ground, your wife clearly hoping you’d pick favorites for the night. One was tattered and worn from your many previous trips, the inside so full of yellow hair and grey feathers that you could never hope to clean it out. The plush mattress carried the scent of a hundred hours spent loving and cuddling and kissing, you and Derpy earning every little fiber within it with your passion and prolonged affection.

Booties and socks and other such things were scattered here and there within the dim cavern, though they failed to clutter the space. The tall and broad tent sheltered you both with the utmost comfort, allowing the absolute debauchery to begin once the zipper door had been sealed shut.

“Mmph, snrk! Heh, heh! Bubby!” Derpy cooed as she lay on her back, wings and legs spread like a shameless comfort horse. Her eyes scanned over your firm and powerful body your shirt peeled away, the shell of dirty cotton falling to the Earth like a sweaty meteor. Thick and motherly thighs squeezed together from the sight of your bare and glistening skin, her delight for your contours and unique shape making Derpy’s heart soar into deep oceans of sugary warmth. Her hooves were already reaching for you. Outstretched legs pulled you in with ethereal chains, your very soul caught and reeled toward the loving pony.

“C’mere, Momma. That’s it. Gooooood.” You hissed and huffed as you crawled over the helpless mare. Derpy reclined and tugged at your back, fruitlessly attempting to force your move. Her swirling and crossed eyes didn’t know where to focus, so caught between the powerful hulk of her husband and the lurid touch of his hips on her belly. Her nostrils flared when she smelled the funk on you, exertion and exhaustion producing a toxic perfume that ruined the composure of mares. Your body reeked like a handsome stallion in his breeding prime, her most basic and primitive instincts commanding Derpy to come close and fawn over your body.

“Wha- what’re you gonna do to me, Bubby?” Your wife squirmed when kisses peppered up her neck, slight smooches and suckles and nibbles running to her jawline like steady stitching. Your eyes met hers from millimeters away, communicating through laser intensity the depth of your disgusting and vile intentions.

“I ain’t about what I’m gonna do. It’s about what I’m gonna make YOU do.” Your wife giggled and hugged at your beefy form with her legs, squeezing and grasping tight to her loving human. You leaned down and kissed on her plush lips, the trembling pillows letting gasps and whimpers slither free.

“Auntie! Auntie Umbra! Look!” Dinky yelped as she hopped out of the brush, her fur dotted with brambles and burs. Filthy hooves splattered with mud pounded the earth in a charge of triumph. The dancy little filly pranced to the grouchy mare with glee evident on her face, something that could warm even the coldest Umbra.

“Mh? What does my precious Gem bring me?” Her head lowered as crimson magic dragged things from her pack, the essentials set out in the grass while Dinky showed off her latest catch. Though it was held much too close to the Queen’s face for her comfort, she had to admire the sizable beast snagged within. The writhing bug squirmed about and scratched brainlessly for an exit, glimmering sheens of diamond greens and blues bouncing off its iridescent shell. The brilliant dazzle pleased Umbra, even if the wretched creature repulsed her.

“Well! Such a twinkle in the eye of this… ehm… what is it?”

“Burpestinae! The metallic wood-boring beetle.”

“Ah, I see.” Umbra said, gently removing her face from the disgusting thing’s proximity.

“How goes your collection, Precious? You still enjoy touching and carrying these… ‘things’ about?” Dinky nodded quite happily, carefully placing the animal aside.

“Of course, Auntie. How else am I gonna describe every arthropod in Equestria if I don’t catalogue them?” Umbra rolled her eyes at the child before her, mindfully setting up her easel.

“If you must be the mare to do it, I suppose thou art correct.” The air about the pair cooled from the excitement of camping. Dinky may have been your daughter, but she was far more adept at sensing drama than you. She could seemingly sniff out sadness from a mile away, her cutting eyes of wheat gold reading into the subtleties of her Aunt’s sour expression. The glass container set aside so she could approach the motherly curves of her teacher, the curious filly pushing herself into the sea of Umbra’s now unbound and inky mane. The young snout glided through the shroud of blackness, burrowing through the fragrant strands until the soft tendrils draped over her back. The dark sorceress sighed, her purpose pressing at the blackened walls of her heart.

“What’s wrong, Auntie?” Dinky chirped from below, pressing into the side of her powerful caretaker. Her brooding elder stayed silent for quite some time, lazily levitating painting supplies into place. Canvas unrolled and stretched over a framework of wood, nails sliding into their predestined places with blood-colored energy silently driving them. Dinky observed and yearned to have such control over her gift, Umbra’s multitasking beyond what any normal mare could achieve in their tiny lifetime.

“‘Tis nothing, sweet Dinky. You needn’t be concerned by the matters of adults.” The young lady beneath her recoiled somewhat from such a dismissive statement, unsure how to respond when Umbra shut her out.

“Did Poppy nag you again?” The Queen couldn’t suppress her giggle, placing her delicate art tools in their spots before letting her energy die down.

“In a sense.” Her simple answer was unsatisfactory to Dinky’s ever-curious mind.

“I could talk to him, if you want. Poppy listens to me. I bet he’d stop giving you lip if I said something.” Umbra sighed and leaned against her tiny protege, nuzzling into the top of her head.

“Nay, nay. Do not concern yourself, Precious. Your Father is only doing what he must. We must- ehm… assist him in his endeavours.” Dinky didn’t seem to understand, her processing mind receiving far too little information to make a judgement. Umbra never cuddled like this unless it was something big, something that would genuinely concern a mare of her caliber. The reserved and haughty disposition of her Aunt rarely allowed such affection, anything above a kiss goodnight or a gentle nuzzle waving a red flag.

But Dinky still knew not to probe into the affairs of her parents. At least subconsciously, she knew many things were simply beyond her comprehension. Though she wanted to help and she wanted to be a part of the solution, the task was simply far too much for her young mind to grasp. The child beat back her thoughts of worry and action, shifting her gears to diversionary tactics instead.

“Aunty?”

“Hm?”

“There’s a lotta flowers out here. Maybe some of them would be good in tea?” Her doting Aunt broke a warm smile, pulling herself away from the embrace of her half-daughter.

“Myes, I believe I spied lavender and hibiscus on my journey to this place.”

“How can you tell the difference so easy? They all look like flowers to me.” A sharp pang of worry crossed Umbra’s mind when the question tore through her, a worry that her intricate thoughts of treachery and vast memory went about picking apart. You had instructed her not to educate Dinky in magic, but the terms were entirely unclear. She could not be sure if all education was prohibited or simply the arcane, the clock rapidly ticking as Dinky stared at her expectantly.

Pressed between her commitment to her Husband and the prying eyes of her half-daughter, it was clear which one Umbra would pick.

“I shall show you, then. Hath ye your notebook and writing utensil?” Her giddy student pulled both valuable tools from her saddle bags, her snout supporting the biggest grin it physically could. Umbra stood and immediately felt alleviated from the heavier chains of her solemn burden. She breathed easier with the crushing burden buried between her and Dinky, the ready and young mind before her almost dancing on her hooves in glee.

“Excellent. I believe you will find botany to be a relaxing discipline, but one of rigor and discipline. Come. Let us see what manner of foliage we might find.”

“Super! Lemme get Poppy’s knife!” Quick as a bolt loosed from a crossbow, Dinky took off toward the unstable tent her Mother had put up. The door had been zipped closed, indicating quite clearly to Umbra’s mature sensibilities that the couple within were not to be disturbed. The Queen yelped when Dinky approached the forbidden zone, instant alarm bells ringing in her mind.

“Dinky! It would be best if you knocked first!” Umbra barked, trotting quickly to stop the young mare from traumatizing herself. The young one refused to listen, far too eager in retrieving her father’s blade to understand the full impact of her actions.

“Just a second, Aunty!”

“Somethings are best kept behind-” Dinky unzipped the door in a single plunge of magic, revealing to the world horrific and debauched images. Tangled bodies and sweaty muscles glistened for Dinky to see, poisoning her mind with that which children should never lay eyes upon. The filly’s confused heart squealed with surprise and shock at the things she saw, a holler of agony striking her as the deplorable coupling of man and mare insulted the natural order.

“OOOH! GROSS!” Dinky soared back and covered her eyes, Umbra only then jumping between her and the disgust within. She scowled at the duo, judging them with diatribes of scorn ready at her lips.

“Something wrong, Sweetpea?” Anon spoke, strung out on his stomach. Derpy stopped her rubbing and scratching, both hooves smeared with the slight venier of human exhaustion.

“Wuh- huh?” Umbra huffed, cocking an eyebrow. You hadn’t even taken your pants off, Derpy’s hooves mushing and scraping against your bare back in ways Umbra wouldn’t have even called “sensual.” It was little more than your daily back scratching, a vital operation that kept you happy and relaxed.

“Augh! Just- ugh! Poppy?! Can you please let me use your knife for a sec?!” Dinky hissed as if she had been splashed with acid, her very skin crawling at the sight of the unholy backrub.

“A knife? What do you need a knife for?” Derpy whined, her husband casually removing the sheathed tool from his belt.

“Here. Be careful with it, Honey.”

“Bubby?!” Derpy yipped, pressing onto your back until the air left your lungs.

“How could you give our Daughter a knife?!” Derpy hollered as your tarnished blade lept from your fingers and into the magical hold of your energetic filly.

“Uh-oh…” You mumbled, signalling Umbra to close your tent. The Queen pulled a rare move and followed your request, sealing you and Derpy together so she might berate you for endangering Dinky. The moment Umbra sealed away the pair, the nagging came. Scolding from within started instantly, Dinky nestling her blade into the belt of her saddle bag.

“Shall we?” Umbra huffed, earning a giddy nod from her protege.

Afternoon carried on in this mold of relaxation and exploration. Though you were at the epicenter of another diatribe from Derpy, she was never as punishing as Umbra. Derpy didn’t bite or insult or hiss at you like the Queen did. At the same time, your Wife was nearly impossible to placate. When she was angered, it was your time to apologize and nothing else. You couldn’t reason with her, you couldn’t improve your standing and you couldn’t weasel your way out of it. It was an admirable drive, really. Derpy’s one-track mind drove her to nag you until she got her way.

It wouldn’t keep a knife from Dinky, but it would teach you not to do it in front of her again. The brightly colored filly in question made excellent use of your tool, slicing the delicate ends from flower bushes and taking snips of delicious herbs. Her Aunt skillfully guided her through the forest and educated her on the flora surrounding them with a professor’s articulation.

Every verdant leaf and wooden limb had a purpose and a character, the secrets revealed one by one and scribbled into Dinky’s trusty notebook. The bitterness of certain herbs, the sweetness of others. Poison and food mingled together without a care in the world, a very careful eye needed to determine what was and wasn’t safe. Dinky drew what she could, tracing leaves to capture their unique shape. She would definitely need it for camping in the future, especially if her haughty Aunt wasn’t coming again.

Umbra found that she quite enjoyed trolling for herbs and leaves, though this was most likely due to Dinky more than any accursed nature. She was muddy and hot and tired, her pretty hooves buried beneath a coat of heavy grunge and her mane sodden with atrocious spider webs. Her student assured her up and down again and again that there was no harm in a Nephila Edulis crawling about her face, but the sorceress never seemed to fully grasp such a notion when screaming her lungs out.

At the very least, the setting sun painted a gorgeous backdrop to their return. Carting their load of precious plants and new-found knowledge, Umbra and Dinky were comforted by wafting scents of pure perfection. Derpy and you sat about a fire and prepared dinner, exertion and vacation both justifying a deliciously hearty and unhealthy meal.

Truth be told, this was your favorite part of camping. Equestria was just too strange for you to be fully comfortable in the woods. All Twilight had to tell you was that “manticores” and “Urse Majors” were real creatures. You accepted long ago that your old days of trekking alone in the woods were done, anything but this specifically cleared space a death trap for a helpless human like yourself. And especially your family.

Cooking, on the other hand, was magical. Grilling over an open fire and sitting with your cider in the sweltering sun was the very definition of a good time. You could rest and talk and feel the better parts of nature, all the while knowing a good meal was coming your way. Derpy crafted a stunning pot of roasted vegetables, seared carrots and onions and leeks and squash almost blackened by the roaring campfire. It was a pleasure to watch, the otherwise clumsy and goofy mare skilfully maneuvering her pan with nothing more than her mouth and a thick towel.

You spit roasted corn over the lapping tendrils of fire and baked sweet potatoes in the writhing ashes, tin-foil assuring that the lumps of deliciousness cooked evenly and didn’t burst into flames. It was a beautiful thing, sitting on split logs with your precious mare and sharing the purity of nature. It helped that both of you had brought bottled cider, a single drink shared between loving lips and longing stares. Nothing made Derpy cute like a blazing and flickering fire, the orange hue contrasting perfectly off her grey coat.

Dinner always led to one thing, however. As ponies and people ate and chat, your mind concocted lengthy stories of shocking content. Umbra sampled your “peasant food” with a constant expression of surprise. She could hardly believe a rough and primitive method could make something so flavorful. You and Derpy sitting as the King and Queen of oily, blackened glory. Dinky always loved camp food, never dreading a piping hot yam imbued with the smokey tang of Everfree wood. But once the chow was gone and only drinks remained, that’s when your favorite tradition started.

Mares lined up on the log across from you, snuggled together to fend off the autumn chill. Your jacket was zealously contested over, Umbra and Derpy both dashing for the man-scented fur and leather to drape over themselves. Your top wife took the victory, though she shared as best she could. One arm snaked through a sleeve while the other tucked Dinky against her side, clothing both from the night winds. Your dark Queen didn’t have so much luck, but found herself comfortable nonetheless with alcohol coursing through her veins and a fire to keep her hooves toasty and comfortable. When she let her mane down, however, it was essentially a jacket anyway, somehow balancing out the inequity.

“Now then… I’m going to tell you all an old human folk tale.” You started, setting aside your drink and positioning properly on your log. A few choice props were tucked behind your seat, waiting eagerly to enhance the experience. All eyes were on you, Derpy and Dinky transfixed whilst Umbra swooned gently from side to side.

“I certainly this isn’t another ‘mysterious mare at the party’ story, my King.” Umbra stumbled slightly over her words and wiped away the drool on her lip. You snickered at the clearly intoxicated mare, the shocking intolerance she had for drink simply beyond amusing.

“I don’t like that story. Mares shouldn’t throw up on stallions to say they like them.” Dink wiggled against her mother with frustration evident on her face, snuggled in tight by a grasping set of arms latched to her like a harness.

“Tell the story, Poppy!” You daughter demanded in no unclear terms. The disruption died down quickly as you set the stage, deep breaths preparing you for the tale to come.

“There was once a camp just like this one. Deeeeeep in the forest, where no one would come looking. Right on a lake, where it was said that a young boy tragically drowned.” Derpy seized up and gasped at such a horrible idea. Her child-protection instincts forced her to squeeze her daughter tight to her barrel, the young filly far too focused to mind.

“Weird things happened there after he drowned. People said they could hear hollers and groans in the woods. And every night… they grew closer.” Umbra cocked an eyebrow at you, helping herself to your half empty bottle of booze.

“Some insisted that it was none other than the dead boy. Grayson Lorries, come back from the dead to get revenge on the camp counsellors for letting him drown!” Derpy gasped yet again, covering her mouth with a terrified hoof. Her wings tucked tight against her body like shields of feather a chub.

“Pardon, m’Lord. Bu- BRUP!” Umbra rudely burped before she could finish, sloppily wiping the spittle from her snout.

“But if the child is dead, how could he come back?”

“Yeah, is he like a zombie, or something? Or did he not really drown?” Dinky added from within the cocoon of Derpy and jacket she was trapped in.

“That’s not the point.” You chided. The mares relaxed slightly with sharp eyes of judgement.

“Counselors gathered ‘round a campfire one night, a fire just like this one. It was dark and wet. It was a perfectly moonless night… perfect for choppin’ up some hapless campers.”

“Are there kids?” Dinky added again, her quivering mother stroking at her mane with compulsive jitters.

“Wha- huh? No.”

“My King, why would there be counselors, but no children at a summer camp?”

“Ugh, it’s not open yet! You go there to open it before the kids show up!”

“You didn’t explain that part, Poppy.”

“I’m getting there!” Silence returned with the crackle of the fire below, red tinting your cheeks from flushed excitement. Your storytelling skills must’ve dropped off the deep end without you realizing… though you really only told scary stories to Derpy for the last few years. She wasn’t Fluttershy, but she was certainly an easier audience than the rest of your pedantic family.

“Hmph… a rustle came from the woods. Like bear paws scraping across pine needles. A soft sound… one almost covered completely by the fire.” Your hands reached behind your sitting form, grabbing at the special tool purpose made for this story.

“And then… came a glimmer of light. Like… like THIS!” You ripped a long and sharp blade from behind you, shining steel catching the flickering flame light below. The polished blade reached across the space between you and the ponies, nearly whistling with sharpness that cut the air. Umbra’s eyes widened in surprise, a strange well of warmth bubbling in her belly as the sharp end pointed directly at her nose. Dinky hardly reacted, instead getting buried beneath her Mother.

“WAUGH!” Derpy squealed and almost flipped herself over, tucking every limb she could into your jacket. The machete bore a serrated edge and a lengthy menacing holes, though it was far more showy than useful. Really you had much better ways of cutting your way through the woods, but this tool’s nasty profile gave it the perfect edge for your stories.

Or, it would have, had your audience been any other ponies in Equestria.

“They ran, ran, ran! Scattering in the woods and trying to hide! Grayson hunted them down, one by one.” Derpy quivered and hid behind Dinky, embracing the little girl with every fiber of her being. Umbra bit into her lip and gave a strange smile, one that communicated a strange enjoyment.

“They could hear their friends, every minute one would die. Grasyon cut them up with his long blade. Like this!” You punctuated the point with a swing, bringing the blade down on an onion that hadn’t been used in your dinner. Naturally, the machete cleaved straight through it without issue and sent both halfs careening into the dark.

“Oooh, this Grayson seems a reckless savage.” Umbra mumbled, her doughy smile showing off glances at her pearly fangs.

“So, why was he killing them, again? What did they do?” Your eyes rolled when your daughter once again chimed in, seemingly unfazed by your violent tale.

“I told you, Sweetpea. He was getting revenge for drowning.”

“But why would he even care? If he drowned, then he’s dead!”

“You’re missing the point again.”

“This just doesn’t make sense, Poppy. Wouldn’t it make more sense if his Mom was the killer? Then it would at least be an alive human.”

“Okay, now you’re just being ridiculous.” You interjected as your daughter rolled her eyes right back.

“I’m just saying.”

“Bubby?” Derpy interjected, almost forcing a groan from your frustrated throat.

“Yes, Mushy?”

“Bed time for Dinky.”

“Aaaaw, Mom!” Your wife could barely fly and often forgot how to put socks on, but her paternal senses were highly tuned. She could smell bed time, hear a hungry filly from two miles away and detect the slightest hint of misbehavior with auras of motherly energy. It was quite an unusual skill, one that you and Umbra had learned to accept after several years of watching it work. It may have displeased Dinky, but you both knew Derpy’s word was essentially law in the house.

“Listen to your Mother… even if it means cuttin’ me off.” You grumbled and surrendered to the grey pony, her pushing and goading seeing Dinky off toward her tent.

“C’mon, Honey.”

“Alright, alright! I wanted to hear one of Umbra’s GOOD stories…”

“I heard that!” You quipped, Derpy following close to her little girl the entire way. Dinky slugged into her tiny tent with a huff, shuffling beneath the covers.

“Goodnight, Honeybun!” Her doting mother cooed, sticking her head into the tent.

“Goodnight, Mom.” Her daughter answered simply.

“Don’t I get a goodnight kiss?” Like a ship rising painfully from dark and icy depths, Dinky lifted herself back to her hooves and trudged toward her aggravating parent. Derpy presented a cheek with a smile, giggling when she got her coveted peck on the cheek.

“Goodnight. Mom.” Dinky insisted sternly.

“Now, if you have any nightmares. Any at all, you come right to us. Okay? Our tent is always open, Honeybun.”

“Got it, Momma.” Derpy hovered for several seconds still, watching contently as her own little bundle of joy wrapped herself up. It was nothing short of beautiful, the healthy foal covering herself for a restful night, safe as could be. Her feathers puffed and her heart tingled to see such a gorgeous thing, knowing full well it was her own special and immutable creation. She especially loved to see aspects of her husband in the young one, a grumpy pout shared between you and Dinky when either of you were kept from peaceful sleep.

“Mom?” Derpy snapped back to reality with a slight squeak, her ears tucking against her head as she slinked out.

“Oh! Right… goodnight Honeybun! Love you!” The tent zipped quickly behind her, the little filly following instructions with a begrudged grumble. She returned to your spot with a yawn and a nuzzle, burying her face in your side as she snugged your coat around her.

“She go without a fuss?” You huffed, running fingers through your wife’s silky mane.

“A little grumpy. But that’s okay. I expected that.” You smirked and brought your mare closer, settling her head between your legs so you could apply healing smooches between her loopy eyes. Derpy especially liked that, a tired smile crossing her lips and a flick of her tail showing off her excitement. A slight flutter of her feathered limbs disturbed your jacket, but the weight of exhaustion hung heavy on your mare’s shoulders. She whined quietly and kissed your open palm.

“Sleepy? Already?” She nodded and pressed her face to your leg with needy force.

“Mh-hm… it was a long walk without you, Bubby.” Ten fingers combed all about her face and rubbed right behind her ears, nearly melting the grey pudge into a hot slurry.

“Without me carrying everything, yeah.” Her laugh was tiny and breathy, one clearly slowed by a long day. You leaned in close and nibbled your wife’s ear, her tail swishing side to side in rhythmic tics.

“I’ll be in the tent in just a little… lemme take care of this one and I’ll be right there.” Derpy looked over her shoulder at the absolutely smashed Umbra, the inky black Queen checking each one of the bottles scattered around her for a hint of fluid.

“You won’t be long? Right?” Derpy fidgeted slightly and kissed at your nose, her eyes glowing with a searing need for your company.

“That story you told kinda…” You stopped her with a smooch to her plush and pillowy lips, assuring her without having to say a word.

“Keep the lantern on. I’ll be there in a jiffy.” She beamed at you with a radiant warmth that could melt polar ice caps, hoofing at your groin gently like an eager filly wanting to play with their christmas gift.

“Rump-bumps?” She squealed, earning herself a wink.

“Of course, Babygirl.” Derpy found your answer satisfactory, nearly dancing her way back into the tent. Her giddy steps betrayed her exhausted heart, the squishy wife never taking her eyes off you as she slinked into your messy abode.

“G’night, Umbra!” She called, attempting to wink at you as she slid back into her nest. Naturally, Derpy could only manage a weird and asynchronous blink, but you got the message.

Now, it was just you and Umbra. A drunk, sloppy and grumpy Umbra. Tremendous eyes of glistening crimson were already on you, latched to her goal tight as bark to a tree. You and her maintained the stare for a good while, the fire standing between and casting glancing rays of light. Orange yellow danced on her face, catching and tripping across her cheeks. The plush curves of her femininity glowed in the darkness like precious gems, the sparkles of natural light accenting the squishy contours and the wavy locks of mane.

“What doth ye… you… stare upon? Human?” Umbra burped, her ears flicking as the passing breeze tickled across her.

“Who, me?” You returned, spreading your coy grin as the mare huffed and confused herself. She struggled to keep focused on you long enough to say something, the chirping of the season’s last crickets and shuddering brush interrupting her delicate train of thought.

“Yes, thou! What manner of look is that? Brup! I- I- I- would cast mine eyes down! Cast them!” She babbled without a hint of coherence to her words, all of them tumbling from her lips like sloppy mud falling from rocks. Umbra didn’t even see you coming when your capable body came to rest by her own, the warmth of a man comforting her needy and clinging form. Though she was blinded by utter foolishness and full to the brim with cider, the pony could still easily find her way to her home.

“C’mere. C’mon.” You goaded and lifted her into place, the little pulls and grabs and whines hardly enough to shift the pudgy and soft woman into your lap. She clambered for a brief moment or two before getting comfortable against your broad front, her breaths coming out as slight wheezes and hiccups.

“Yes, yes. Hold me… please.” Umbra pressed her face into your clutches like an affectionate kitten, nearly spearing your lower jaw with the end of her rapier-like horn. Her body squeezed in tight as you wrapped about her, the full shroud of human limbs bestowing the deserving Queen with all the comfort and protection she deserved. Your arms disappeared inside an ocean of ebony mane, both legs squished beneath the charcoal buttocks of your Sorceress’ fine cheeks. Her buns mushed and squished into place like rubbery pads of warmth, the flexible material easily forming the perfect cushion for your haughty bride.

“That’s it. That feel better?” You mumbled in a hushed voice, making sure the serenity of natural quiet wouldn’t be shattered. Umbra huffed and cooed against you when you spoke, adoring the feel of your words vibrating inside your stout chest. Her sensitive nose could detect the sweet motions within, a masculine and powerful heart pumping and breathing with life. Her tail flicked and almost curled about your legs.

“Mmph… thou art testing min endurance and we- HIC… we wanna give kisses.” Your confused little mare placed sloppy and drool-filled smooches up and down your chest, pecking at your shoulders slow and steady to make sure she could still hold on to reality.

“Been a long day, Bab. You need some rest.” The dark mare shook her head, running the tip of her blood-red horn across your chin.

“Don’t you take from us what is rightfully mine! We hath- uh- I have eaten food from a fire for ye!” Your accusing woman poked at your pectorals with a demanding hoof, casting terrible indictments your way.

“You did. You put away a whole skillet by yourself.” Umbra nodded pridefully and pulled at your shirt with her hooves, working the ends of her hardened stompers into the neck of your cover like a nosy little mouse.

“Mh-hm! And we hath consumed the CIDER! Diligently, we protect the family from vice!” She nearly shouted directly into your face, tangles of dark hair hanging over her eyes as the confusion completely swept over the ancient Slaver’s mind.

“Uh-huh.” You answered simply, letting her get the energy out of her system. Umbra could truly blab when she was “tipsy,” even when she was biting and kissing at your clothes like a desperate filly during their first heat.

“Pfft, rrf! You understand, don’t you? My King, he- ehm- he wouldn’t- BRUP!” Another burp sent splatters of her spit across your chest, a quick move letting you peel the moist piece away. Umbra rubbed her hooves together as you disrobed, instantly sucking herself to your bare chest the very instant she had the chance.

“He wouldn’t take that which is mine. Never- HIC- ever.” Careful hands traced up the soft and fuzzy surface of her back, gliding the tips of fingers over each bump of her spine. You followed the gentle hills up and between her shoulders, squeezing and stroking on the cuddly Queen.

“Never.” You answered, Umbra’s peaceful grin tinted with a definite lack of coordination.

“Princess… take my child away. They- rrup… they can suckle upon my fat buttocks! I’ve a King! They’ve dusty old clappers.” A laugh escaped when she mumbled such things, her ears delighting in the sound resonating in your chest.

“Mmmyesss… do that more, it feels wonderful.” Umbra kissed at you once again, shivering when your hands ran down her figure and cupped her ample hips. She had more than enough to fill both palms, every finger squishing into a valley of pudge that simply steamed with brilliant, natural warmth. Umbra’s aroma tingled in your mind as the rising heat came off her, the filter of shampooed mane hardly keeping her natural aura from your senses. She smelled so sweet and mature, the mellow hints of her fur combining with the perfume and soaps until both were homogeneous and perfect. Sweet and flowery, but spiced with the tangs of womanhood and exertion.

She grumbled as your hands snaked their way back up her body, sliding across her neck and parting the ocean of darkness about her face. You pressed away the locks that concealed your Wife’s face, brilliant and contrasting colors greeting you there. Green backgrounds flashed with energy and desire as red irises jittered in place, hardly sure where to look. Umbra eventually found them anchored to your own pools of complimenting color, each one like a void spell gone terribly right.

“Haah…” Was all she could say when you held her and ran both thumbs over her cheeks, tracing the jaw beneath and palming the softness of her gorgeous expression.

“I love you, Umbra.” The words were soon cemented between contacting lips. Human strength pressed you two together, though Umbra hardly put effort behind her smooch. The pony dangled in your arms, drooping in place as your face did the work and melted her down. She gurgled and growled in the melee of affection, both eyes rolling back in her head as she was worked over. Breaking away only made her snap to life, though, as if a demon had suddenly compelled her to bring her mouth back to yours before it could escape.

“NO-mmph… mmh.” The Queen piled the pressure onto your mouth without much control or tactile refinement, more or less plowing your facess together. Breaths tangled together shortly before tongues, pumping whispers of enjoyment brushing across both your faces like wisps of vaporized love. You Queen squeezed at your sides with her arms, pulling and tugging as if you two could get any closer together. She whined any time you so much as inched back from her suffocating kiss, insisting that your mouth hide her tongue from the night. The mare would have nothing less than total, unfiltered, teeth-to-teeth contact with you. Truth be told, it was pretty enthralling. Feeling her so eager was always enjoyable, especially with the slight leak trickling down the sides of your thigh.

Though, all things had to end eventually. You were running short on oxygen and still had mushy things to say, a pony snout and gallons of slobber standing in your way. Your arms could quite easily remove her whenever you so wished, but being gentle about it was key. She wriggled and resisted your pushes, but had little say in the matter. The pony was forced to look you in the eye once again, sucking for breath and grasping at your arms.

“You’re a good wife, Umbra.” You huffed, holding her head in both hands. She returned with a sloppy scoff, using your wrist to wipe the spit from her lip.

“Bleh! This we know!” She insisted with a haughty tone, lifting her chin pridefully.

“You’re a very good wife, Umbra.” You added, squeezing on her face. Her lips pucked and sputtered when you did, her words completely garbled through pillows of molding flesh.

“Mpph-ppt-buuuwah… Wanna be a good wife…” She grumbled and leaned tightly against one of your hands, nuzzling and scrubbing her cheek into the open grasp. Her breaths slowed to a quiet pulse, each one slow and tired.

“You are, though.”

“We bare no foals for thee.... No- rrpt- seeds to be proud of.” You shook your head and kissed on her nose, avoiding an effort from Umbra to grab a deeper smooch.

“It’s not about that.”

“Can’t beat Derpy, then! She can give what I cannot! A curse on me, it is!” She flourished her words with a theatrical recoil, falling back in your arms and letting all her weight rest in your grasp. Her hooves stayed glued to your body, pulling and stroking even when Umbra was focused on her own pity.

“Hey. Of course you can’t.” You started, earning quite the scowl in return.

“You deflate me, M’Lord.” Umbra growled.

“Why would I want another Derpy?” Umbra cocked an eyebrow at you and sneered with a sharp glare rife with both judgement and confusion.

“You think Derpy could ever be a good Umbra? Hm?” You pulled the mare in close despite her wishes, the pushes and resistance nothing before your capable strength.

“Rrrrphhh… I dunno.” Umbra mumbled, finding her face once again the focus of your attention.

“You think Derpy could ever be so dark, mysterious and clever?” She didn’t answer right away, casting her crimson eyes to the ground in huffs of flattery. You kissed her once again, both thumbs circling across her jaw and tracing the mature shape.

“Derpy can’t cast spells. Derpy can’t tell stories about monsters and knights. You? You can topple a kingdom by yourself.” Umbra’s smile finally began to creep across her features, the tide of pinkish blush brimming with subtle energy.

“Thou butter me. Y- you- thou only says these things!”

“Oh I ain’t just talk, Bab.” You punctuated the statement with a slow and smooth press into her underside, grinding yourself between her buxom cheeks. Yips and chitters of excitement fluttered from Umbra’s lips, her sharp fangs gnashing together.

“Hnng! Hahn- stop that. Stoppit!” She whined and blabbered without sense, all the while smiling and lifting her tail. Hands mindfully pushed down to her hips and squeezed the luscious pillows of fertility, mushing around the heavy hillocks of mare.

“What man wouldn’t wanna be with a Queen like that? A mare so driven and strong? Makes me kinda hard just thinking about it.” Umbra giggled and mushed her face into your chest, smothering herself as you man-handled her soft butt.

“Mmmmmpheheheheheheheheh… thou art- yee- ehm- you attempt to flatter me but, but we- oooooh…” She cooed and hissed when finger tips touched at the very boundaries of her heated nethers, the steamy wetness evident from subtle sensations. You could sense her excitement, the puffy and thick lips below quivering and gripping for a masculine satisfaction.

“Ooooh yes, M’lord. Touch- HIC- me…” Your Queen melted into your body and shrouded herself with her mane, leaving you to work entirely by feeling. Soft and helpless as she was now, you found no issue in manipulating the mare into the perfect position. Umbra was strung over your lap, her rump to your right and her head cupped in your left. She flopped like she were dead, the only life coming from either end grasping for your fingers.

Her slobbery mouth suckled and nursed at your hand, pumping digits sliding across her silky tongue and poking at the insides of her cheeks. You weren’t sure why she enjoyed getting probed like that, but her rolling eyes and groaning breaths were proof enough that such treatment absolutely floored her. Her flank was much the same, though you were always far more “invasive” with the loving.

Her engorged lips were utterly sodden with excitement, sticky and thin slickness dripping from her dark insides readily as a broken faucet. You slithered from clit to pucker to pick up a helping of her juices, the syrupy consistency distinctively Umbra’s. She watched you with quivering eyes when you licked the flavor from your fingertips, a spicy and sharp ginger taste the welcoming sensation. The initially hot and intense feeling melted quickly into a sweet and salty blend of her flavor, the smell of her primal need very similar to her taste. She wasn’t overtly sweet and creamy like Derpy, her fluids far more drinkable and developed. But her taste was still enough that you often thought about making tea with her drippings, Umbra more than happy to oblige on romantic weekends when Dinky had gone to a slumber party.

“Ghlk, sllp, nnph!” She slurped on your hand and wiggled her behind, welcoming you to indulge in her essence further. The deliciously soft and deep pits of Umbra’s sweet femininity begged to be touched and enjoyed, the hot contact ringing out with wet and rude noises. She strained and grunted as your fingers plunged inside her, tickling stretches beginning right at her sensitive and fertile canal.

“Haaahn, yessssh.” She drooled down your fingers, letting the spittle bead and drip from your knuckles. Her rump jiggled from side to side, pressing backwards with all the weak pressure she could muster. Two of your digits dipped into her honey pot, quite a bit of exertion needed to press inside the crushing tunnel. Her muscular innards squeezed and squished and kneaded your hand with a devilish strength, nearly immobilizing your hand. Her constricting walls pulsed with her lazy heartbeat, veins criss crossing inside her tickling and goading your nerves.

“Sheesh… it’s even tighter than usual. Feels like a vice.”

“Mmmmmh, please, deeper...” Umbra groaned as you twitched and writhed inside of her, poking and prodding at her sopping walls. Squirts and sputters of her excitement gushed from between her chubby lips, providing a constant source of lubrication for your powerful pushes. You twisted your hand about inside her, adding a third finger inside. The several joints of your digits twisted and popped and ground together as you moved about, the grip of her tight marehood simply preventing fluid movement. You felt as if you were grinding a stone, the insane grip of Umbra’s love probably enough to dangle by.

“Who's my nasty little Bab?” You hissed, pressing your thumb against the muscular disk of her firm tailhole. The tip sank easily into the puckered lips of her backdoor, the elastic and rubbery flesh welcoming you with a musky kiss. Umbra tensed and jumped in your grasp, her tail flicking and lifting out of reflex.

“Mmmeh- ung!” She could just barely cough up the words between her suckles, your slimy and dripping fingers bathing in her maw like her tongue and cheeks were a cradle made specially for them.

“Who’s my beautiful, sexy, scary-ass Umbra?” A flick of your wrist pushed inside of her butt, ample nectar from her vagina easing your entry. Fingers slid out from her gash ever so slightly to give you more leverage, allowing the first knuckle of your thumb to disappear inside her clenched and warm vortex.

“NNG! Anonymous! Ghk! Do that more! Please, please, work your magic! Do it, you bastard!” Umbra spat your fingers from her mouth and pressed herself against your hand, allowing the entirety of your thumb to creep into her. She shivered and kicked and squirt when her most sensitive of places was stimulated, her butthole far more forgiving and relaxed than her marehood. You snickered and pulled her close, wrapping your arm about her neck and nuzzling between her ears.

“Would any other mare let me do this? Huh? Who else could be so dirty and so nasty, they’d let me play with their big, squishy butt?” You hand twisted and worked about inside of her puckered and rubbery hole, the wrenching and twitching digit bringing total destruction onto Umbra’s composure. Her muscles molded perfectly and flexed without issue, constant contractions and suckles pulling you deeper into her. It was like she had two mouths, both maddly bent on engulfing your embrace and keeping it buried within her. Umbra refused to let go of you, her insides slurping and oozing with steaming streams of frothing nectar.

“RRRPH! Lick me, My King! Give me- RRUP- kiss my behind! We’re so close! GUH!” Umbra thrashed and arched her back before squeezing tight as she could, forcing your fingers from her body. The walls of her delicious and round ass crushed around you and pushed your digits free, the strength within probably enough to compress iron and crush coal into diamonds. You shuttered at the sweet, wet friction of the sight, her tight pucker bulging outwards to help ooze you out of her. You could almost feel the individual bundles of muscle and strength in her opening, the buds of squeezing softness slurping closed with a vacuum seal.

“Ssschlurp!” It rang out, just slightly louder than her strained and barely-repressed voice.

“Put thine face- mmph! P- put it here! Once again! Put your handsome face against my rump!” The shakey Queen fought and wiggled to stand in your lap, her hooves slipping several times and leaving her helplessly flopping about near orgasm. She pressed and wiped the side of her fat butt against your chest, smearing you with her musky scent and marking her territory. Powerful hands and snaking arms worked around her body and assisted her drunken turn, manipulating the twitchy pudge with some difficulty. Sitting upright as you were, the challenge in pulling off face-to-butt contact was immediately clear.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to try. The smell alone was enough to rile you beyond measure, a needy and thick scent of pungent sweetness and Umbra’s own raunchy flavors. You needed a taste of her, you needed to feel her culmination gush in against your lips, run down your neck and trickle down your chest. The desire fueled every move you made, Umbra flipping upside down and pressing her belly against your sternum before she had any idea of what was going on.

“EEE! NNG! A- Anonymous! Gentle, gentle! We bruise so easy!” She lied, kicking her legs on either side of your head. Your arms braced across her back and interlocked into an unbreakable cage, pinning her sopping marehood and winking doughnut within kissing distance. She teetered from side to side slightly, sliding in your grip and rested against your thighs. Her hooves scraped against your legs and her snout found its natural home against your groin, the musk of a ready and willing human forcing the intoxicated mare to calm down.

“Nnf, snff! Snf, mmph, yesssssss…” Her voice trailed off as your tongue went to work, plunging inside of her folds. The dark flesh gave way easily, wrinkles and crevices of softness parting and hugging around your limb as it cleaned the spicy slick away. The first swipe you made was particularly long and deep, tracing from the mare’s winking and bulging clitorous all the way up and into her raunchy tailhole. Both her flavors mixed like a fine cocktail, the proportions perfectly balanced and the tastes delightfully complimentary.

“Uurrrrrgh. Yes gimme kisses King please lick my butt…” Umbra gurgled a string of meaningless words into your groin, smothering herself with your masculine spirit as you pleasured her. You face smeared and pressed into her vagina until it became a mask about your lips, the thumping and sweating lips shuddering and oozing around your face as you pushed inside her. The delicate and suffocating canal refused your tongue’s entry, far too excited for anything other than a forceful maleness to shove through.

One could watch the heavy steam rise off of her, the cool autumn air punishingly sapping away the musky funk that surrounded her backside like a cruel thief. You breathed in nothing but Umbra’s filtered aroma, the slap of femininity enough to put you out and steal the senses from your mind. Slathering your tongue across it, smothering yourself in plush buttocks and drooling across her butthole nearly brought you to your own peak.

It certainly didn’t help that Umbra was mouthing and nibbling and suckling at your girth, desperately and mindlessly trying to get at her prize. Hung like this and given such brilliant attention, the Queen was reduced to only the simplest of thoughts and actions. She could just barely formulate basic plans and dirty thoughts, twitching legs grasping about her King’s head so he might never escape his duty. Your tongue slid inside of her ready doughnut and tasted her most delicious of spirits, though it was certainly one that you had to get used to. The bitter and sharp taste of her backside was initially quite intense, like fine liquor on an empty stomach. A man with less resolve would’ve called it nasty, but those persistent enough to keep kissing and tonguing the dark pony found much to enjoy.

You could just about sink your entire tongue inside her bowels, both lips opening about her hole and embracing the entirety of her rotund bulge. Both her chubby thighs squeezed about your head and neck, cutting off your air and imposing a strict time limit. Umbra would most certainly choke you out and never realize it, especially if her mind was clouded. There were plenty of times in your relationship where the spirit of release took hold of her mind and suffocated you, her glorious and thick behind a dangerous mistress to contend with if one wasn’t careful.

“Mmmmmph. Worship me…” She groaned into your penis, chomping gently at your covered end and letting her warm drool stimulate your hidden masculinity. It made you buck and snarl into her behind, dwindling oxygen making your actions desperate and harsh. The pink of your tongue became a blurred piston pumping back and forth with a hurried staccato, slurps and slips of mare-excitement splattering across your cheeks and jaw. Umbra launched into an all new realm of enjoyment, one with blistering heat and mind-numbing heights to reach. Her eyes went completely dumb and rolled helplessly in their sockets, her entire body shuttering and quivering as her most dirty and raunchy hole was pleasured.

The fire started in her belly and crept through her entire form, lacing each limb with the tingle of release and the energy of culmination. Her legs squeezed round you until your jaw popped and your neck cracked, massive pressure pinning you in place as her sloppy marehood fed you sacred libations. Slick rain fell down your neck and oozed down your chest, soaking every muscle and every fiber with her scent. The pony below gave contractions and whimpers of delight, sending vibrations of her voice through your erect and desperate girth. The Queen emptied herself of energy and pressure within seconds, spewing hot and syrupy marecum across you like a broken hose.

“HAHN- HNN- MMPH! Yes! YESSSSsssss…” The flabbergasted mare went still as a log in your arms, lazily hanging there without a care in the world. You gathered your breath and turned her about, trying your best to keep her fur away from your sodden body. Of course, given her habit of cuddling after coitus, Umbra was doomed to wetting her fur with the glaze of her own sex. That drunken Queen didn’t mind in the slightest, choosing instead to kiss your filthy mouth. The flavor of mare was shared eagerly between you two, sloppy exchanges of tongue and spittle sealing the deal for your exhausted Wife.

“Pfeh- mmmmwuah… Myyyyy Kiiiiiiing loves meeeee!” She hummed with a sloppy sing-song tone, collapsing into your chest like a pillow. You grunted and carefully stood from your log seat, carting her with both hands on her messy rump.

“Feel better?” You asked simply, trotting toward the tent. Umbra nodded with a wiggly smile, her eyes hooded and shaded by exhaustion.

“Mmmmuff… is the king- HIC- going to uhm… is- is he going to take us in the tent? When we are so helpless?” Umbra giggled to herself when you entered the fragile domicile, settling her on top of the unzipped sleeping bag set aside for her. You would’ve taken her to yours and Derpy’s, but there was clearly “business” to be had there as well.

“I don’t do sleeping mares, Bab.” Umbra pouted as you zipped her in, tucking her billows of mane into the sack with her. She snuggled tight into her bed regardless of her disappointment, both crimson eyes leering with toxic frustration.

“We wouldn’t argue.” She mumbled, a kiss to her warm nose effectively silenced her, along with a rub across her covered belly.

“Shush, Babygirl. We got all tomorrow to hang around, drink up and make some babies. Yeah?” Umbra beamed at you when such words left your mouth, her legs squeezing together. Hooves kicked and wiggled below, a gleeful fantasy clearly racing in Umbra’s twisted mind.

“Babies… foals for me. Princes and princessesssssss…” Umbra cooed to herself as she turned to sleep, both eyes shutting and peace finding her ready and willing. You huffed in relief when she finally went still, not a single twitch or hiccup interrupting her rest.

Finally, time for YOU to relax.

Boots and pants came off and scattered to the side, an open and warm embrace waiting for you. Derpy had indeed left the lantern on, doubtlessly trying to drive Grayson Lorries back into the forest. She had left the bag unzipped and ready to receive you, allowing an easy slide directly into the bedding. Derpy’s still and quiet body mumbled and moved slightly as you pressed against her back, an arm sliding under her head and the other across her belly. She seemed entirely dead to the world, sleeping peacefully before you came to disturb her. Being twice her size and firm with muscles, it was no surprise that your coming woke her from the tenuous slumber she had accidently fallen into.

“Mmph… uung…” Your bodies pressed together perfectly, two puzzle pieces joining once again. Her buttocks rested comfortably against your belly, kisses on Derpy’s cheek making sure she knew just who was harassing her.

“Goodnight, Mushy.” You whispered, settling in and letting all your weight compress the softness. Derpy twisted about to meet your face however, nuzzling herself into the crook of your neck. She squeezed into you, squishing belly and breasts alike into your bare skin.

“Bubbyyyyyyy…”

All seemed well, the stillness of natural night coming in from all sides. Fingers darkened the lantern with a sweet finality, rest and deserved sleep coming to find you. Chirps and whispers from outside cradled you as your wife did much the same, her rocket-engine snoring muffled by your shoulder. Your eyes began to lazily close, completely unready for the booming roar that split open the evening. Hardly a second of your sleep was allowed to pass before the ear-piercing noise stimulated the most primal, lizard portions of your brain. Ancient terror crossed your heart, the proximity and volume just too great and obvious to ignore.

“GRRAAAAAAAAAUGH!!!”