The Merry Llewd

The next several hours were a rapturous blur for Cinny. Stallion after stallion took her by her mouth and by her marehood. At one point a stallion was stopped by Cladonia, pausing with his member throbbing deep inside her. She used his smock to spread some of the copiously flowing and squirting juices up and over her plot. Soon there was the sensation of a hard, hot, and wet stallion’s tip pressing into her backside, spreading her,. With a sudden shock her anus gave and he slid in. He grabbed the base of her tail and began thrusting hard and deep.

She longed for the sensation of a stallion coming deep in her backside,the sudden jerk and the throbbing, and sense of a hot pool of cum forming just behind her dock... It was all she wanted. But again she was denied. She almost bit down on the stallion in her mouth out of frustration.

Two and even three at a time, the stallions came to her. Many she knew. She had passed them on the street or bought produce from them, or discussed important town matters with them. The embarrassment of seeing them this way, stallionhoods out, dripping pre; and then feeling them penetrating her, or tasting their delicious saltiness… it all dissolved away into something that only added to the wanton debauchery of the event.

She wanted them. She wanted all their cum, but when they came, it was in the smocks. It was frustrating, then infuriating. The soiled linens soon filled the barrel, then another on the other side of the platform. Cinny’s flowing juices started to pool on the platform and dripping through to the cobbles below. Yet her only taste was pre, and the occasional, welcome, drink of cold water offered by Cladonia to replace the copious fluids she was losing.

Some stallions, mostly younger, but many of the older as well, rejoined the line. The fucking she got from them a second time was even stronger, and longer lasting. Her pussy muscles ached deliciously from the repeated contractions around the many many stallion cocks, some smallish, some narrow, some fat and ripe for clenching around. Her backside was tingling and sensitive. And she was hungry. She had been denied at every turn. She wanted that sensation of hot cum spilling into her. Instead, the undeserving casks were getting it all.

Cinny had on of the night guards holding her ears and thrusting into her throat. She found she could control her reflexes, and also control the pressure on them. His tip was swelling, she could see his abs tensing. She looked up at him and her eyes narrowed with a predatory mischievousness, as she tightened her throat and jaw around him. Her fangs closed around his shaft and held him as his shaft started to throb. He was trapped, and she would have her first taste of cum.

“No!” An electric jolt ran through her as Cladonia’s staff struck one of her buttocks. She gasped and the young stallion pulled out. A long glistening white string of cum shot out and landed on her muzzle. She quickly lapped it up. It only fueled her desire. She wanted more! But the rest was being spilled into yet more fabric.

She let out a primal roar. It echoed around the courtyard and up to the towers of the castle. The echoes died away into a long silence. Was this the end? Would she be left in her unending hunger?

Then a bang on the door rang through the courtyard, then another. Five echoing bangs filled the space. A gust of wind came up and whistled around the castle, windows rattled, and abutments whistled. In the blast, the door flew open. Silhouetted against the light of a rising moon, stood the Count. He seemed to tower over the small antlered figure next to him. To many of the onlookers, even his silhouette had changed. A pair of horns sprang from behind his temples, curving downward and outward. His mane was disheveled, blowing upward in the wind as if by the updraft from a flame. It was longer and darker than anypony remembered it being, as was his pelt.

He stepped into the light, and another feature became evident. Entering before him, his firm priapism stood proud from his cloak. It swung left, then right, with his step. His nostrils flaired as he took in the smell of heat and sex, and if anything, his already massive errection seemed to grow. Up on the stage, his princess whimpered and strained at the frayed bonds holding her.

“I am here for you! I need!” her voice was filled with deep harmonics, and echoed through the town. All the way down in the boat house, Little Red, the coffee proprietress was singing to the children. Her eyes flicked upward toward the main square and she sang a louder to try to cover it. Each stallion of age still left in the town within earshot, from the guards at the north gate, to the baker’s apprentice, left to build the crockenbush for the next day’s feast, heard the words and felt an involuntary stirring in their loins.

Cinny could not see the Count, but she could smell him, and feel his presence. Her abused, yet still deprived and hungry marehood dripped and winked. Her nostrils flared as his musk filled the room. She strained against her bindings as his feet clopped up onto the stage. With each step, his member bounced. Small drops of pre fell from the tip. He came to a stop in front of her and there was a long pregnant pause as their eyes met. Then hers fell to his tip, just out of reach in front of her snout. It was a stallions member. A swollen ring ran around the flattened tip, the low set urethra oozed another small squirt of pre as the stallion took in the sight of his mate.

His eyes roamed back from her face, over her mane, now disheveled and damp with sweat. Her bat-like wings had come free of their bindings and were stretched and quivering in anticipation. His eyes traveled down over her muscular back, small waist, and the outward flair to her wide enticing hips.

With a smile he stepped forward. She took his tip into her mouth eagerly, sucking the salty-sweet and slick mixture from it. Her tongue lapped out and wrapped around it. She sucked hard pulling him forward, aching to take him all. Her marehood ached. Her throat felt empty. Yet he stood firm. Of all the times to tease her!

A low, straining growl came from her, the muscles on her arms and shoulders strained, and her hands shot out. The leather straps were torn free of the bolts holding them to the post, and were still around her wrists. Her hands went to his muscular hips and pulled him in with a sudden force, her fingernails digging into his hide. He came forward with a yelp, and then a moan as his tip travelled down her throat.

His hands went to her head. He held her tight as he started fucking her throat. His thumbs rubbed the cups of her ears as his tip moved repeatedly between the back of her tongue and her gullet. “Oh… Buck….” Her eyes rolled back and her tongue lapped his balls each time he throated her.

Every stallions member stirred again at the sight. Cinny lifted herself from the stave that had held her, and began to bob her head with the Count’s thrusts. Her breasts began to swing in opposition to his large, full balls. He reached forward, wrapping his fingers around the base of her wings, his thumbs digging into that spot between them that always drove her wild.

“Mmmofff!” She mouthed around his shaft, and the crowd saw a spray of mare cum arch out behind her. Some started stroking themselves at the site. Any embarrassment or shame was misplaced here after the events of the evening.

Cinny cupped and squeezed his balls. Her fingers found the ring. At the touch of the Avatar of the East Wind, the ring sprang open. It was tossed clear, falling to the platform, where it snapped closed again from the impact. It rolled to the edge and clattered to the cobbles below. It eventually rolled to a stop, spiraling with a metallic ringing town, growing higher and higher, and oscillating faster and faster until it came to a stop.

With a sudden gasp, the Count drove his shaft forward, pushing Cinny’s muzzle into his belly. His backside dimpled and his abs clenched as his scrotum contracted. Cinny’s eyes rolled back as she finally got what she had been craving. She could feel his hot cum deep in her throat. She pushed him back, and gleefully letting it fire against the roof of her mouth, onto her tongue. She gulped greedily at the thick saltiness. Finally!

The orgasm was long, and voluminous. There was so much pent up semen. As the jets eventually trailed off to a dribble, she lapped the last of it off, and pushed him back, giving his still hard member a playful nip with her fangs, before looking up at him. “Now fuck me. Hard.”

Without a word he walked around her. Coming to her hindquarters, he bent and released the buckles securing her hooves to the immobilized stilts. Her legs shot out, stretching. “Oooh. Much better.” She pointed her hooves out behind her. A few more started stroking watching her flex and move her glutes. She got up slowly and turned, stretching and twisting her spine after the long confinement, and clearly enjoying the show she was putting on for the stallions. She came in close to her Count until her large round breasts were squished against his chest. Her muzzle came up and her mouth opened just as his came down to meet her. Their tongues reached out and found each other, wrapping together, and then disappeared as their lips met for a long and passionate kiss.

Her hands came up to caress his face. Her fingers ran up into his mane. That was where they met the bony plates protruding from his scalp. She broke the kiss and looked upward as her fingers traced outward where the plates narrowed into thick, recurved, smooth horns that came down on either side of his head, swooping down, outward, and upward again to stubby tips.

“Well this is a new look for you.”

“Like it?” He smirked down at her, a hint of the goofy battiness coming through the virile apparition.

“I think I could get used to this.” Her fingers wrapped around horizontal portion of each horn. Her biceps bulged, and she hoisted herself upward. He grunted, but took her weight. Her cleavage surrounded his muzzle, and he huffed as he breathed in her musk. His tongue flicked out to taste her sweat. He reached down, around her thick thighs and directed his member upward, throbbing and waiting for her to ever so slowly lowered herself down. She let out a guttural growl as she felt the heat of his tip first part her lips. His hands went to her thick thighs, taking some of her weight as his fingers dug into her. She started to rock her hips stirring his shaft inside her, moving the tip against her walls. It was maddening.

Out in the crowd, there was a collective sound of tight appreciation at the sight of the princess’ hips rocking and flexing, and her juices started to flow down the stallions shaft.

Her arms wrapped around his neck as she lowered more, feeling his ring moving behind her clit and sending more electric jolts out to her hooves and fingertips. She continued to rock as the tension within her built, like a wave building to crash until it blocked out the sun. Finally she couldn’t take it any more and she dropped until her shaft was buried in her, his pelvis grinding her clit. Her head went back and her mouth formed an “O.” “OH BUCK ME!”

The stallion started bouncing her on him, giving her moans a staccato flavor as a wave of her juices gushed over his balls and down his legs. At last the waves subsided. Without a word, his hands moved to her small waist and lifted her up onto the platform that had previously been her prison. He slowly pulled out of her, his member springing upward as it popped free.