Bound in the Stalls

Bound in the Stalls
Part Three

Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)
Commissioned by anonymous

Continued from part two...

Arctic groaned. Could he hold it? Would his bladder withstand that?

“Pet...”

And then she was there, soothing him without even really doing or saying anything special, the pony that made his heart sing and pound in such tremblingly new ways each and every day. Despite exhaustion already lacing the lines of his body, Arctic tried to turn his muzzle into her touch, the warmth of her body there, ready and waiting, the latex and hobbles holding him where she wanted him to be.

Yet Fluttershy wasn’t there to provide anything so gently softening or soothing, her hooves moving over his head and wandering down his body, groping and pinching and squeezing, as was her right to do as his mistress. She could do anything she wanted to Arctic and no one would have said anything different, assuming that he had, of course, consented to it at one time and was enjoying it all as much as she was. What they didn’t know was just how that tentative line of consent had always been blurred even from their very first session together, when he’d been dragged down to her dungeon without even knowing what he’d find there. They didn’t have to know and they didn’t have to know either what Arctic thought about that, how it made his heart lift even if he could not have understood why.

Maybe it was just the way it was meant to be.

“You need to relieve yourself too, don’t you?”

Her tone was pleasant, conversational, yet conducted in such a way that he heard her clearly even through the latex. Giving a muffled groan, Arctic wriggled his hips, eyes wide, panting shortly and shallowly. He could almost see her smiling at his predicament...

“Yes, pet... Go on. You need to.”

He hadn’t thought about his own needs, the liquid that Fluttershy had encouraged him to drink before they’d even left her house – their house? No, it couldn’t be his house too when she was the one that owned him, his thoughts tangled and roiling, seething in a tumultuous mess of lust where no singular one could be extracted from the rest. The need to urinate had been something that he’d been pushing down, which had at least been a little easier than it could have normally been considering everything else that was going on to distract him. The trickle of urine flowing down the hoses, however, was what did it for him, panting and squirming, not seeming to get enough breath into his lungs as he constantly shifted his weight from one hoof to the other.

No... What would it mean for him if he gave in to that need? His cock seemed to tighten around the tube in his urethra, something that he had done his very best to forget about, and he shuddered bodily, splashing urine around the funnels spaced out down his suit as the mares using him shrieked.

“You know you need to...”

No...

It was Fluttershy, it could only be his mistress with a voice like that, hooves like that, knowing exactly where to tease and press to make him feel as if he had to pee, had to pee right at that very moment.

Where would his pee go?

He had no choice in the matter, of course, as she massaged his flanks, finding just the right spots to coax him to release, though it was not an orgasm that she sought from him that time around. It was more carnal, a baser need still, something that everyone had to do and yet everyone took in the privacy, most often, of single bathrooms and their own homes, not sharing it for purposes such as fetishes that thrummed through the hearts of so many ponies.

And that was just why she had him piss, firming up her control over him as if it had ever been in any question at all, Arctic grunted and gulping, swallowing another load of piss even as he, humiliatingly, could no longer control his bladder.

“There, pet...” She patted his head, although nothing was comforting about it. “I’ll relieve you again later, if you won’t do it for yourself. Can’t have you backing up in there, now, can we?”

Of course, all she was doing was forcing him to back up even more, his cock unable to release in either fashion as it was all forced back up into his bladder or, in some cases, his nuts too. It was not an orgasm that he could have called such but Fluttershy more than knew just how to manipulate him in such a fashion, inflating the plug under his tail a little more, tightening the seal, the tube that ran down his cock only allowing fluid to go one way. And that direction most certainly was not out of his cock...

A tiny valve was more than enough to seal off the tube that ran from her pony-pet’s shaft to the body of the suit and Fluttershy did not bother resisting the urge to smirk as she allowed the urine building up in the latex suit to flow down the tube into his cock. It could be funnelled into his nuts or his bladder – she didn’t care, as long as she had a pony to play with, taunting and abusing him as his need grew and grew.

For he may not have realised it but his constant hard-on was telling, the latex clinging to him most thinly there. It was hard to ignore what she was doing to him, how the tension in his body was building, the pressure of having so much happening all at once crowding in on his mind. Maybe he’d been too taken aback by the constant, drowning water sports to pay all that much attention to his own need but Arctic should not have been as shocked as he was as his cock throbbed, pulsing drastically with a mere brush of Fluttershy’s hoof, caressing him, drawing orgasm from him as if it was nothing at all.

But his cum had nowhere to go! A moment after the bliss of climax was forced crudely upon him he squealed and thrashed, his cum instantly backing up into his balls, pleasure ripped away as if it had never been there to begin with. It was a denied orgasm, a controlled orgasm, an orgasm that had never been his to take in the throes of pleasure, Fluttershy’s laugh echoing around the bathroom as she dominated him so very easily.

“Effortless, isn’t it, pet?” She said out loud, putting words to what he was feeling. “Let’s do that again... Show everyone what a good pony-pet you are!”

Her voice rose in challenge, for she had something to prove with him, Arctic squirming and wriggling as she pressed a vibrating massage wand up to his cock. Of course, he could have attempted to cum again in a short while but Fluttershy simply didn’t want to wait as she forced him to the edge within a couple of minutes – not that time had very much meaning left for the poor pony caught up in such sexual turmoil. It was too easy for her to bring him to the point of orgasm, humping, grinding, heaving, and leave him there, the massage wand pulsing, trembling against him. She could have kept him there, on the edge of the broken wrath of pleasure, for as long as she pleased but it was with an even wider, crueller smirk than ever that Fluttershy pushed him over the edge.

Arctic squealed, choking on a mouthful of piss as his muzzle was filled again, but there was no helping it as, yet again, his cum backed up into his balls. It was a quirk of his body that Fluttershy adored toying with and he knew just how big they could get even if he did not know just how far the latex could stretch, cupping and pulling around them, straining and stretching, his balls gurgling as they bulged up bigger and bigger with his cum. He couldn’t see just how large they were, in the latex mask as he was, but he could imagine, panting heavily, breath seeming in short supply as he rocked and ground, only thinking of the next moment.

So lost was he that he could not even think of his mistress, pushed past the point of no return, submissive to a fault. He couldn’t have said no to her right then and there even if his need had been dire, tail trying to flag as his needy hole softened again around the plug, a little more pleasure rising there again. His body could not help but respond to everything she was doing to him, having done to him, using the fetish-lusting mares as her very own horde to objectify, humiliate and, of course, debase him as much as she wanted to.

“Ooohhh...”

He recognised that voice, only faintly, as Aloe from the spa and wondered if Lotus was there too, though the spa sisters were harsher and more dominant when it came to delivering a very special course of physical therapy than anyone could have anticipated. Her hooves worked down him, poking and prodding his balls, and Arctic groaned as he realised, from her touch alone, that they were nearly down to the ground already, orgasm after orgasm from that vibrator sending his cum back into his nuts. There was the urge to pee too but he could hardly tell whether he was releasing his bladder or not as more and more from the suit backed up into his bladder, pinging back and forth and adding to his frustration.

His balls rumbled and he may or may not have gasped – it was hard to tell with the gag in his mouth. Any sounds he made were inconsequential, of course, in the grand scheme of things, everything continuing whether or not he voiced his avid, vocal consent, the gag taking that away from him. Squirming and shifting his hips, the latex tighter and tighter as it was forced to wrap itself around an even larger part of his anatomy in his swelling nuts, Arctic ground back. Had he even wanted the ability to speak up at all?

She made it hard to remember his life before her, a life when he had not been well-cared for and tended to pet-pony, a pony-pet of the very best kind. His nuts ached for release, the need to cum overwhelming, but there was no way for him to get what his body so sorely needed while his mind and heart sang for the tenor of pleasure she gave him otherwise. For there was pleasure too in humiliation, in being controlled, even as the latex squeaked and creaked, pulling out and out, no longer quite holding the perfect shape of a pony that it had before.

“Good boy...”

Arctic whimpered, twisting his head back and forth, though resorted to hanging it again, wings tight and feeling sweaty, though he wasn’t sure if that was piss soaking them. Was he a good boy? Did he want to be a good boy?

The stallion shivered. It didn’t matter what he wanted. All that mattered was what she wanted.

“Here, wet your whistle, sugaaarrr!”

The tube in his gag was yanked and then freed, though it did not really allow him to cool his lips any more than they already were, gasping and panting, tongue poking out through the reek of fresh urine. A mare who had clearly had a little too much to drink grabbed his head and sloshed what had to be a mouthful of beer into his gob. It was not the good stuff, although there was too much piss soaking his mouth, mingling with saliva, for Arctic to really tell if it was anything that he may have liked to drink otherwise. After getting together with Fluttershy, he didn’t do too much with drinking, not finding it all that pleasurable anymore.

He coughed and hacked and spat out the beverage even as the mare cooed and patted his head too hard, knocking him sideways – until the chain drew him up short, of course. Arctic was forever reminded of his restrains, how he was to be kept in place at all times, as another gush of hot piss flooded his anal passage, pouring deeper and deeper, seeking out the pit of his belly as he was tenaciously and viciously inflated.

“Aw... Thought you’d like a little drink, honey,” she slurred, clearly a little further gone than she should have been. “You’ve been chugging it all down like a...like a...like a....”

She couldn’t think of something that would mean what she needed it to and shrugged it off, pouring another tankard of beer that surely tasted staler than it should have. Maybe it didn’t go all that well with piss? Arctic was better prepared for that one, however, and merely coughed a couple of times, holding his breath the best he could, just to get through it. It didn’t stop her from giggling and carrying right on, taking advantage of his position as she sloshed his mouth out with beer as if she was trying to clean it out, though for what exactly Arctic could not have said.

“Oh no... Wee one doesn’t want another drink? Maybe you’ll like this better then...”

And then her marehood was pressed up to his mouth, grinding on his nose through the mask, the soft scent of her overpowering even the stench of piss. Arctic’s eyes closed, the stallion too far gone to resist sure a lure, grunting and heaving, rocking his hips, needing everything that she had to give him even then in a moment that was no his to control. He swept his tongue out over the twitching lips of her marehood, folds quivering, yet he should have perhaps expected the squirt of pee that splattered onto his tongue, the chain keeping his head in place even as he tried to reel, jerking back and earning himself a yank of the gag against his teeth as the reins too drew taut for his troubles.

“Hold still!”

Inebriated, the strange mare was not about to let him get away with it that easily, pissing straight into his mouth without the aid of a funnel, though how she was holding herself up in such a position was a feat of balance that would have been difficult to maintain even if she wasn’t drunk. There were so many heaving, sweating bodies around her though that she must have been able to sling a foreleg over someone else for balance, groaning and humping her hips up to him, not caring one bit about the mess that she made as she filled his mouth up with her urine.

“Ahhh...” Rolling her head back, her flanks shuddered with relief. “That’s better...”

To her, he was nothing more than a urinal and Arctic shuddered to have that shown to him so shockingly, even though she was slow to move away when she had finished relieving herself. Her clit ground up to the ring gag as the edge of latex was peeled back and she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth in what could have been annoyance. Like with so many other things, it was hard to say with the mask over his head, rendering him faceless, sightless, a pony that they could all very much use and abuse over and over again without worrying one bit about who was inside there.

Yet he could please her and he was good at that, relishing in the sweet taste of mare after so much piss. It was almost enough that he could ignore his stomach hanging down more and more, bloating out obscenely, even pushing against his nuts under its own weight. Even though urine still marked her folds with a stronger sort of taste than what he was used to, he inhaled deeply, letting the sweetness of her sex overwhelm the rashness of piss. It was not to be his focus as he lashed her throbbing clit with his tongue, not needing to see to deliver that sort of pleasure.

“Yessssss!”

She screamed out her pleasure, humping and grinding frantically on his muzzle, though there was almost little left for Arctic to do with her using his nose as a fuck-toy, a sexual aid that mares with mares may have gotten good use from. Her marehood clenched and squirted messily, painting his muzzle and inside his mouth with her thick, rich cream, the tartness of it lingering as her bladder revealed that she still had a little more to give there, the richness of her pussy mixing with the bitterness of piss, flavours combining in such a way that it was difficult to tell one from the other, becoming some else entirely in the sweltering heat of their time together.

Yet she had little use for him as another mare took advantage of his position and took her place, placing her legs astride his head. There was only one thing to come right then and there, the mare moaning out loud as if she wanted him to hear how much she was enjoying him. What she took as enjoyment, however, was very different to what Arctic may have wanted from her, if even such a pony-pet as he could have had any wishes like that. He was lucky to get what he was given.

A jet of piss heralded her release as she groaned deeply, the sound rising from the back of her throat, as rich and poignant as the heavy stream of piss that splattered over his head. She didn’t seem to be aiming for his muzzle that time at all and the scent of her made him gag immediately, wrenching his head violently back even as she closed her legs around his head, firmly keeping him there and even crudely grinding her back end down to smear her piss and feminine arousal over the head of his latex suit. Some, of course, had to splash into his muzzle and that was too much for him, stronger-tasting than any of the other mares that were there and speaking of a diet so poor that his head spun just acknowledging that the taste was there.

It trickled down him, his latex suit gleaming with the fluid, as if it had never been meant to go into his muzzle, too much for him, too good for him, too good even for a piss-slut that was bound for her pleasure. As it drained into the grates beneath Arctic too, his stomach grew another notch heavier, sinking, swelling and bulging against the floor while he strained to keep his legs far enough apart that the hobbles would not get in the way of his piss-swollen stomach.

The mares giggled around him, changing places, Arctic losing sense of himself in the moment as he became nothing more than an object for him, some sloshing beer over his back, feeding it into the funnels, laughing at the thought that they “could get him drunk like that”. Of course, that could not be done but they enjoyed the thought of it all the same, soaking him through, some of the beer that drenched his coat and the feathers of his Pegasus wings trickling down enough to pour down into his cock and balls, inflating them further. It was hard to tell just what went where anymore, his hind end slowly starting to be pushed up more and more with his huge nuts, the ache of orgasm all-encompassing, a background roar that he had to push past if he was to move forward from that point.

“Let’s see what colour his eyes are...”

He should have been a little better prepared for it, considering that she had been kind enough to give him a lead-up to the revelation, but the hood had an eye-mask too built into it, which, with some fumbling, was removed with a flourish. Even the dim, relatively dark, confines of the bathroom were too bright for him as Arctic immediately closed his eyes again, although he could not help squinting, too curious and trying to see at all costs, wanting to know who was there, who was there to play with him. They didn’t know who he was, the crowd of mares, the bathroom filled with heaving bodies and cruel smirks, their smiles simply not seeming to reach their eyes as he stood there, bound and shivering, at their whim.

Fluttershy stood at the back, smiling faintly, though she was there to observe, having played the part that she wanted to for the moment. Maybe she would toy with him again or maybe she wouldn’t as she was blocked from her pet’s vision by a familiar pink pony with a cutie mark of a bunch of grapes and a strawberry. Berryshine, or Berry Punch as she was affectionately known by her friends, didn’t look as friendly as she usually did working on her cocktails and magnificent alcoholic creations for the enjoyment of others, her rich, pink mane tightly braided so that it would stay out of the way as she took advantage of a night that was much needed for one who worked as much as she did.

“Such lovely eyes...”

With his eyes open, he could take in the full clamour of the room, quivering in place, panting heavily, Berry placing her marehood directly over his muzzle. Something about being able to see had him frozen in place where he could have pulled himself away, watching the stream of pale-coloured urine splatter down, lightly scented and almost pleasant in comparison to the mare that had used him last.

It was all for the art and act of dominance in her case as she ground her marehood back and forth, the muscles surrounding her folds making her part them slightly in a held “wink” for the act of urination, pulsing and twitching to spend the last drops. After everything, it wasn’t that bad and, shamefully, Arctic’s tongue even slipped from his lips, pushing out and wiggling through the middle of the ring gag to try to scoop up what less acrid drops he could. Despite everything, he knew that Fluttershy, his Mistress Shy, was still watching, observing her pet at the top of his game. And who knew just how much she was getting paid to let them use him there, the fetish event surely one that had drawn mares from far and wide.

“Clean me off.”

She didn’t need to raise her voice to be heard and Arctic whimpered softly, lapping and obeying as he cleaned her marehood even as it winked. Berry Punch sighed softly and ground down against him, her eyes fluttering half-closed, languishing in the present time while it was hers to claim.

“I knew you’d have a good tongue tonight too...”

Arctic started. Had she been with him before? It was hard to say when Fluttershy had done so much to him already in the past, had him service so very many mares before, but it was not for him to worry about as another mare that he knew faintly from Ponyville giggled and trotted up to him. Maybe they’d made some sort of queue to dominate him but it was not one that he was privy too as Sea Swirl, a light pink-purple mare with a long, lusciously shaded violet mane and a cutie mark of dolphins, spinning, stood over him, not wanting to miss out on a thing.

She didn’t talk to him, treating him like a urinal, a stream of darkly coloured piss flowing over him as she spread it down the length of his body, splattering the latex and letting the strongly-scented piss fill the funnels. Swirl paid particular attention to his wings, soaking them in her perhaps quite dehydrated piss, though he was too far gone to care about details like that, thankfully only that she spent herself before that strong urine reached his muzzle.

Someone had a pen and he quailed as they all shouted out things, things that were to be written on him just like one pony may write on the cast of another when they had injured a wing or similar.

“Piss-pony!”

“Whore!”

“Slut!”

“Piss-pot!”

“Urinal!”

“Tongue for use!”

“Hole to fill!”

“Piss here!”

All of those words and more were scrawled on him, some of them more intelligible to read than others, though it did not matter at the end of the day. Arctic quivered in place, knowing that he was where they wanted him to be, where they needed him to be, the words on him what he was, at least to them. He didn’t need to be anything more than that to them when he did such a good job, groaning and grunting, still servicing the drunkest of the mares that didn’t seem to mind getting their rocks off in public, regardless of how Arctic felt about that.

The pen even marked the latex over his balls and he squinted back to see what was being written on him there, something about his big nuts being free to use, his holes free use, everything about him “free use”. Those words resonated with him more strongly than ever and he grunted, lowering his head, letting another mare piss over his head, eyes closed so that the liquid, thin and faintly aromatic in comparison to most, did not flow into his eyes.

He was free to use, as long as his mistress allowed them to use him.

He didn’t know the next mare to use him, a Pegasus with a white coat and a fluffy, blue mane, though he may have liked to know her better as she sashayed up to him with a little wiggle in her hips that could have melted a stone-cold heart.

“Hello, toy,” she purred, putting her lips up close to his latex-wrapped ear, even though she did not quite want to touch his piss-covered suit. “I’m going to have fun with this...”

She must have had what she wanted to do planned for a while, although it was not all that strange as she simply began by pissing in her mouth. The mare seemed to have drunk well beforehand and Arctic found it easier to tell the difference between one lot of piss to the next, his palate more refined as the night wore on, muscles aching and yet not destined to be relieved of any pressure for a good while yet. She poured it into his mouth even as the stream, prematurely, tapered off, letting his tongue to work as she wiped herself off on it, chuckling throatily as she ground back onto his mouth.

“Use it like you’re going to use it, colt!”

Whatever that meant was beyond him but Arctic knew a demand for pleasure when it was cast out in such a tone and delved his tongue as deeply up into her cunny as he could, folds winking and twitching around his tongue. They pulled as if they were trying to get his tongue deeper and she bore back with raw need on his nose, pushing and shoving her way to climax with a coarse sort of domination that made his heart pound more heavily than ever.

Yet the white Pegasus had more than a few tricks under her wings and she laughed wickedly as she raised her hips, releasing more piss and spoiling his fun, his break from being a piss-pony, something to be used and forgotten about later, unless one needed to relieve themselves again. As if to taunt him while she stood imperiously over him, powerful to the last moment, she chugged back a tankard of ale with a glint in her eye, daring him to do anything, to say anything, her backside to his muzzle while he tried to drink down her piss and slurp at her sex at the same time.

“You can do better than that... Maybe your mistress will hear of how inadequate you are?”

He shuddered. No... No, she couldn’t tell Fluttershy that! His mistress knew that he was trying to be a good boy, a good pet-pony for her! But he didn’t know that, not truly, and maybe he wasn’t doing what she wanted even as he was restricted in what he could actually do there. That didn’t mean that he could not lean into everything with the gusto of an owned pony who had no control over their lives and he groaned into the white mare’s sex as she alternated between releasing bursts of urine when he least expected it and letting him lap at her sex to first one orgasm and the second. Those surrounding them must have been enjoying the show to let her go on for so long but that did not mean that they did not make use of the funnels lining his body, one particularly adventurous mare even angling her body and inserting a thin tube into her urethra so that she could ensure that not a drop was missed as she added her piss to the flood.

“What’s going on here?”

That was another surprise, though Fluttershy, standing back to watch her pet, only smiled as she welcomed an old friend of hers in: an anthro dragoness who preferred walking on two feet rather than on all fours who went by the name of Smoke. Smoke smirked, rocking back on her heels, arms crossed, as naked as the day that she’d been born, even though it was not normal for dragons to wear clothing either. Her white scales were on show with grey plate-scales lining her stomach, down from the join of her neck to her head all the way to her crotch, though it was the large plates running down her back from the centre of her head that gave her the name, “Smoke”. They were softly curved even though her eyes glinted with a harder gleam of silver-blue, licking her lips as she eyed up the pony in latex before her as if he was something to be devoured.

“A pleasure to see you come by, Smoke,” Fluttershy murmured. “I did not think this would be your, ah, scene.”

She could be delicate when she needed to, Arctic’s eyes on her at all times even though he could not tell just what she was talking about right at that moment in time. But it was not for him to worry about as he was forced to slurp down another mare’s orgasm, one of the more drunken unicorns giggling as if she could not stop as she ground back and humped him, her pink cheeks much pinker than they should have been. She was not able to control her bladder at the point of orgasm and her nickers were punctuated with gasps of relief as her juices mixed with a rush of urine, so pale that it may as well have been water and almost going down his throat as easily. Funny how that could happen even in the midst of a moment that had him panting and heaving, grunting, trying to do his best but not sure at all how much more he could.

Smoke smirked at the pony, beckoning a friend in, though there was a cluster of mares outside who did not quite seem to have dared to come in as yet too. They didn’t care about that.

“I brought feather-brain here to have a good time but I think even this may be a bit much for her... Prism, would you get your butt in here already?”

The gryphon clicked the edges of her beak together and rolled her eyes as she entered, a black beast that walked like Smoke, although she did not quite seem as comfortable with it. Her feathers were so dark that they were tinted with other shades, the sheen of a rainbow touching the very edges of her feathers, though the soft grey of her feline half at least evened out the effect so that it was not completely dazzling. Prism was elegant to a fault and brushed back her crest of feathers into place, sharp, blue eyes intent and locking onto Arctic the very moment she stepped inside the bathroom. Taller than the mares that were in there, taking their leave of him even as the crowd thinned a little, the gryphoness had no trouble at all sighting her target as if she was a predator soaring through the skies, seeking out prey.

But gryphons didn’t do that any more...did they?

“You took ages! What gives?”

Smoke smirked and joked, poking her friend in the ribs in a coarser fashion than a pony may have done to a pony but dragons and gryphons were well-known to be a little rougher and tumble than most of pony-kind. That was not entirely a bad thing, though it did give a little bit of an idea as to where some of their more dominant needs came into play from time to time.

“Yeah, those mares out there are blocking the door, can’t decide whether to come in or not, saying it’s disgusting and gross and whatever,” she scoffed, flipping a claw as if she could not understand what their problem was. “I mean, it’s a bathroom. Just what were they expecting to go on in here? To hell with a pony if they enjoy it too, right?”

Smoke grinned.

“Right! So, you’re game.”

It wasn’t a question and the two anthro creatures stepped up to the four-legged pony, more easily than every towering dominantly over him. As big as he was, there was nothing that could have made him feel smaller than he was right then and there as they loomed, their dark shapes cutting against what little light there was in the bathroom.

“Hello, pony...”

Such simple words and, still, they sent a thrill through Arctic like nothing else ever could, his sides heaving, yanking at the chain and the ring gag, his reins tight and unyielding. Maybe it would have been better if the mask part of his ensemble was still blindfolding him but he didn’t have much choice in the situation other than to stare up at them pitifully as they double-teamed him in the best of ways, their slits showing as their need to relieve themselves grew.

Of course, no introductions were needed and he was well and truly left at their mercy, his mistress nowhere in sight, the dragon dragging his mouth to her slit, though it was not for lustful pleasure that he would have wanted to partake in voluntarily.

“You’re never going to want to taste anything again after me...”

Her cockiness was endearing, in a way, and tickled his submission as it should have, Arctic’s eyes half-closing as his tongue obediently pushed its way out. Of course, she was not interested in using his muzzle like that (maybe Fluttershy would hire him out another time when they didn’t have to share him) but a stream of hot, near steaming piss flooded forth, the bladder of the larger dragoness much worse than any of the ponies that had gone before her, even though they had been filled to bursting point already.

No, a dragoness like her had so very much more to give and she wasn’t about to let up easily on a pony who, she was told, only wanted to be drowned in piss, lusting for it day after day, dreams haunting his nights. Whether or not that was true was none of Smoke’s concern but she liked to have it in mind as her wickedly draconian smirk widened, Arctic gasping and coughing as he tried to swallow and yet feared that her urine was too hot. It was darker than the others too without the strong taste, proving that dragons were different in that regard too, though thankfully did not burn his mouth and throat on the way down.

As he swallowed, his cheeks tried to plump out as if he was holding her urine in his mouth but he could not, would not, had to be good, had to do what he was told. If he didn’t swallow it would only spill out of his mouth and with the amount of piss pouring through the grates in the floor it seemed to get into him in some way, either way. His belly churned and fizzed from the carbonation in the less than stale beers that had been dumped down his throat too, s strange sensation that left him feeling as if he was about to pop even as they filled his stomach, eyes intent and a curl of smoke flickering up tenaciously from the dragoness’ nostrils.

Still, the stream didn’t stop, Smoke shifting her hips so that she well-covered Arctic’s head, even using the funnel on top to make sure that a good dose flowed down to soak his mane, which was drying off a little bit from the lack of mares using that part of his suit while his muzzle was free. She didn’t care for the pony underneath when she could relieve herself in such a lewdly carnal fashion, grunting and snarling in the back of her throat, eyes intent, Prism standing before her in open challenge.

Truly, it was the gryphoness that pushed everything over the edge, breaking the tipping point as Arctic whimpered and tried to gulp down all he could. She used a tube up into her urethra to ensure that not a drop was wasted, not in Smoke’s messier fashion, groaning and rolling her head back as she dumped a load of piss straight into the suit itself. It flowed down Arctic’s body, moderately warm and almost pleasant, though he didn’t have the chance to either scent it or see just how it tasted. Like with so many things that took place when he was under Fluttershy’s hoof, he could not have said quite how he felt about that.

“Ah... That’s the stuff...”

Prism goaded him with her dominance, a roll of her hips showing off just how full her bladder was going and the flood still coming, drenching his coat, slickening down his fur, dominating him in the most lustful way possible for a creature like her. Best of all, those who took him like that did not have to explain to Arctic just why they did or said what they did, only enjoy themselves, knowing that the dominated pony had no recourse but to bear through his suit inflating more and more, stomach bulging out crudely, struggling even then to keep his front hooves on the ground too.

Arctic groaned. Something had to give! And it was not going to be him but the suit as it groaned, trembling around him, vibrating lightly, at its limit as Smoke groaned and stepped back, pausing only to use his tongue to clean off her scaled slit, well-protected and tucked away at her crotch in such a fashion that it was not obvious to anyone who was not looking for it. It was not as if a dragon would have deigned to wear clothing out in public anyway.

“Ah... Not bad.”

But Prism still had to finish releasing her bladder, her legs bent to get closer to him, so tall was she when stood up at her full, imposing height, wings spread. Everything about her simply oozed the aura of dominance and it would have taken a far stronger creature than Arctic to stand up to her, the pony panting heavily and hardly daring to as the suit threatened to burst around him, his stomach bulging, balls aching as yet another load of cum, driven forth from the sheer embarrassment of it all, was forced back up into his nuts. His testicles separated distinctly as he was forced to rest on them, hooves dangling, chains straining against the floor, everything coming to a lustful head as too much piss and other fluid sloshed about in his stomach, in the suit...everything all at once.

The gryphon stepped back, removing the tube very carefully from her urethra. Despite the discomfort of it, the arousal that followed suit was more than worth it, wings outstretched as she smirked down (a difficult feat to accomplish, truly, with a beak rather than a dragon maw or pony mouth) at the pony that was so thick and fat and swollen that he hardly looked like a pony at all. With the weight of gravity to assist the flow of urine and other fluids, he bulged out in so many places as his weight shifted that he was, in all honesty, shapeless around his midsection and hind end, the latex straining more and more. It was tight around him, so tight that he could not move, trembling with every breath he took, but it didn’t take a genius to work out that that latex suit could not hold out forever.

Smoke grinned, blowing him a kiss in the shape of a smoke-heart, though he didn’t see it as his head, once again, dropped submissively.

“See you around, piss-pony. I hope your mistress brings you back again!”

Continued in part four, the final instalment...