A Great and Powerful Babysitter

Chapters

A backdoor memory
Getting frustrated on the job
New employee oral training session
Oral performance review
Working under your boss
Ongoing working relationship
The interview

A backdoor memory

She could still remember it like it was yesterday.

It was the previous year, her first estrus season, her first true heat. And life had been miserable.

Having your entire body rebel against you suddenly, as your puberty-enhanced hormones began to cry out for attention for the first time, making a mare’s muscles and organs groan and moan with discomfort. The sweats, the aches, and the Celestia-damned swelling of certain private bits was unbearable.

Even worse were the attitude and mood swings.

Suddenly all the dumpy-looking colts in her class seemed like they were A-list Las Pegasus superstar actors. She had to avoid making eye contact with them or her knees would tremble and her tail would start to lift. She doused herself in deodorant every morning out of the fear that her musk could be detected by others if she got a little too steamed up after passing by a gaggle of nerdy colts.

And suddenly it seemed like every one of her friends were total bitches. They were all out to get her, all out to take her down a peg, to prevent her from getting a hunky coltfriend.

Day in day out, the same intolerable agony.

She’d banged her head against her locker door and let out a long groan of annoyance. Would this intolerable, grinding need inside her never relax? Never switch off? Was this what she had to look forward to every Spring for the rest of her life?

One of those scorned friends came over to her, and gave her a crucial, kindly tip.

And so it was that Trixie had gone to the back-alley secret entrance of Sofas and Quills.

As she entered the clandestine establishment, it suddenly made sense to her how the establishment had managed to be so successful all these years despite its ridiculous business premise.

And why all the mares in town always seemed to be eager to snap up any Quills and Sofas coupons.

Dicks.

Dicks everywhere.

Dildos, vibrators, coolers, of all makes, colors, models and sizes.

One whole wall seemed to be filled with very realistic looking phalluses, each labeled with the names of well-known stallions from Ponyville. She saw that the muscular teenage farmhand of Sweet Apple Acres had a whole shelf devoted to his stock.

“Hi there miss, what can I get for you?” The shopkeeper had cheerfully asked.

Trixie had snatched the nearest object to fall within the range of her telekinetic ability, throwing it onto the counter with a mortified squeak as she pulled her hoodie hood up over her mane and drew the drawstrings tight to shield herself from view.

“Oneofthesepleasethanksbye…” The words tumbled out of her mouth as fast as she could say them, followed by her throwing a bag full of bits on the counter and tearing off with her new package, ignoring the shouted words of caution that the shopkeep had launched her way as she beat a hasty retreat.

It had taken her five minutes to get home, run up her stairs, her hooffalls thumping as she locked her room and jumped onto her bed.

The sheets were still damp and sweaty from the night before. Everything in her room the past few days smelled like her musky plot, which both infuriated and excited her.

Her hoof had not been enough these past few days… no matter how many times she ground the solid edge of her hoof against her aching privates… and she was excited to try out a toy for the first time in her life… to see if it could provide the relief she so desperately wanted.

But as she opened the box she began to realize just how large the toy in her hooves truly was.

Back in the store, it had seemed reasonable… even small… compared to some of the other behemoths that adorned those stock shelves… but here in her own room, in her own small teenaged hooves, she was beginning to realize that slightly-below-average still meant freaking huge compared to what she was thinking of doing with it.

But she would try it.

The press of the cool silicone against her aching wetness made her gasp. The coolness was both relieving and tantalizing. She began to draw the purple sausage up her plot, letting the slick texture rub her in all the new and exciting ways that a non-organic substance would.

The tube was quickly getting a sheen to it, as it picked up some sticky wetness from her body. She wanted to dig it in deeper, press the cylinder into that pleasure-furrow and grind out an orgasm.

But what was the point of the toy then? She could always have simple grinding with her own hoof… this thing was meant to go in her.

She swallowed, looking down at herself once again and chewing her lip.

That tip seemed awfully big.

Just how the hay was something like this supposed to fit inside her? How did mares do that? She’d seen the hole she was aiming to penetrate - it was tiny, not even half the size of a bit!

She was quickly losing her nerve.

But Goddesses did her body want to be entered, to be penetrated.

That’s when it hit her.

Her lower-lips weren’t the only hole her body possessed.

She chewed her cheek in nervous anticipation, then slid the tip down until the pointy end rested at her back-door entrance.

She knew that something this size could pass through the tight little pucker… gross as it was to think about.

Trixie had never been a fan of… poop-stuff.

Like many unicorns her age, she’d quickly learned to use spells to clean and wipe herself after… that. Leaving both her bottom’s exterior and interior as clean as a whistle through the magic of spellcraft.

She had no idea how pegasi and earth-ponies dealt with the same problem. She didn’t want to know.

But now… maybe she had another use for her tailhole.

She began to press inward, the small ponut of flesh slipping slightly open as the pre-slicked toy teased its way into her body.

She shivered, as the relatively cooler end slipped into her hot depths.

Tight.

Like… really tight.

It was stretching her in such a weird way.

A weirdly good way.

*POP*

Derpibooru pic here: derpi booru.org/images/2366482

All of a sudden the tapered tip of the toy slid into her. Sinking past her barrier for the first time. Immediately her sphincter began to tense and squeeze, completely against her control, squeezing the purple toy with a stiff, solid grip, sending strange semi-pleasurable shocks through her body.

She’d thought that her butt would naturally try to push the thing out, given its size and shape… but much to her surprise, it began to slip inwards. Inch after inch of the thick toy being engulfed by her butt, as the clenching movements of her ponut drew the toy inwards very quickly.

Oh no.

Immediately, Trixie began to pull back, trying to halt this scary insertion. Already more of the toy had gone into her than she’d planned. But her hoof was slipping, unable to get a good grip on the well-slicked skin of the toy.

This is bad.

Trixie ignited her horn, hoping to use her telekinetic magic to take hold of the object and make use of the additional purchase to wrench the thing from her body…
This was a mistake.

If she’d taken a moment to read the packaging on the box of her new purchase, she might have noticed the well-labeled text that read.

This is a MAGIC ACTIVATED toy.

As soon as the field surrounded the dildo, it began to warm noticeably and then to hum… then buzz… then vibrate.

Trixie’s eyes flared wide with surprise, and she poured even more magic into her telekinetic field, trying to get the thing out of her as quickly as possible as her whole bottom started to shake from the magically induced vibrations, sending all sorts of new feelings and impulses she didn’t think possible through her nethers.

That’s when the toy, responding to the new surge of energy, began to grow.

Oh, my goddess!

First, the tip inside her began to fatten and expand, stuffing her butt more than she had ever thought possible. Then the shaft thickened, stretching wider and wider with each passing moment, straining the dark blue ponut into a thinner and thinner donut ring as the tight teenage asshole.

She’d never felt so full before. The toy was pressing on all sorts of new walls and angles inside of her, and the buzzing was so intense that it was even making her filly bits start to drool and spatter.

A final, desperate jerk at the dildo was the final straw.

The heat that had been building up discharged all at once, dropping the toy back to a normal temperature as it released the energy stored in a magical pleasure-pulse right into Trixie’s ass.

OH FUCK.

That grinding, winding tightness in her gut broke, snapping suddenly. All the aching restraint and agonizing want, released in a crashing wave.

It surged up her body, like a shiver that started at the base of her spine, racing all the way up to her head and flooring her mind with a pure sense of ecstasy.

Her horn exploded with energy, a crackling whizzbang of firecracker pops and gunpowder smells that sent burning sparks from her horn to singe her pillow.

Her eyes wobbled as her orgasm spilled back down from her brain, racing all the way back to her nethers, gaining strength and speed as it surged back to its source and broke upon her fillyhood.

A powerful clench wracked her. The force of it lifted her hips up off her bed, humping up with intensity against an invisible partner.

Trixie squeaked, feeling her hot little love nub slip out from its hidey-hole, shooting out into the cool air of her room. Her burning, painful lips blossomed and parted as she winked, completely out of control, spraying one, two… three heavy fountain squirts of steaming nectar to her sheets, making a wet puddle of musky filly cum for her butt to fall into.

“F-F-fuuUUuCuKCkK!”

Her scream was loud enough that it would have brought her mother pounding on the door to ask if everything was ok, if she were home.

As her flanks fell into the soaking pool of sticky honey, Trixie finally managed to jerk the toy from her rear.

*POP*

It slipped from her tailhole with an obscene sound effect, before she slung it with a wet thwack against her closet door.

Her ass now free of intruders, Trixie slumped into a shivering pile of wet, post-orgasmic pony. Her left hind leg twitched, entirely out of her control as the aftershocks of her orgasm raced up and down her.

And, in that moment, gasping and desperate for breath, terrified that at any moment her mother could walk in on her shame… Trixie decided that her hoof would suit her just fine for now… and that she didn’t need to be shoving anything into her body, thank you very much.

...not until university at least.

Trixie was desperately studying her hooves, anything to avoid making eye contact with Filthy after answering. She hadn’t told him the story of course… but she still felt like he’d been able to somehow see her mind just the same.

But it seemed to have satisfied him.

He smiled warmly and nodded. “Good, we definitely want to make sure your body is stretched enough to take on somepony of my si- OOF.”

A sharp elbow quickly cut off whatever Filthy had been about to say. “Darling,” The hiss through gritted teeth cut him off completely.

Trixie hadn’t really noticed what the stallion had said nor his wife, she’d been too busy stewing in her own absolute embarrassment, trying to work out if she needed to mention that she’d only put something in her butt. And not where he was probably thinking.

And if she did have to say that, just how the hay she’d be able to say something so incredibly embarrassing. But surely, surely he didn’t need to know that much detail?

She kept silent, merely nodding as Spoiled finished things off.

It seemed like she’d passed the examination, as she started to get into questions that none of her other friends had mentioned to her, about grooming habits, how often she showered, even when she tended to eat… until finally Spoiled had smiled and asked her to stand up.

Trixie had done so, and a quick flick of the older mare’s hoof had sent it slipping under her own. Before she could even resist, Trixie found her tail flipped up over her back. Spoiled apologized… just a slip of the hoof… but when Trixie glanced over her shoulder she thought she spotted Mr. Rich behind her, watching from where he would have had a perfect angle to see her exposed plot. She felt embarrassed, but it was surely just a strange accident, and certainly Mr. Rich wouldn’t have looked.

Spoiled walked her to the door, with Filthy joining her there, nodding vigorously about something as he joined his wife.

The final question had filled Trixie with glee and the sound of bits clinking into her bank account.

“When can you start?”

Author's Note

She got the job! Awesome!

How about that memory though... her butt sure remembers! Poor thing got scared off of insertions though... somepony will have to show her that those things can be quite fun... with practice.

Getting frustrated on the job

The evening had been incredibly easy.

Too easy.

Diamond Tiara was actually a gem of a foal. The three-year-old was cute as a button and happy to play with her blocks quietly, never crying or raising a fuss. She’d eaten her dinner without the least complaint, a ‘meager spread’ according to her mother… but the gourmet-chef prepared meal looked better than some of the dinners that Trixie had seen plated at town galas.

And then she’d happily trotted off to bed, content to drift off with only a couple of chapters from a nearby storybook, while still clutching her stuffed animal. Trixie smiled fondly at the sleeping little foal as she shut the strangely heavy and soundproof door. The instructions to do so had been crystal clear.

The instruction had been just one part of a greater set of directions and tips from the Riches that they had left in a thick binder with clearly legible instructions.

Trixie had worked for some parents who were like this, worriers who tried to make a plan for every situation. The Rich’s binder had mostly a number of warnings and directions about what she could not do in the house and where she could not go. The basement and bedroom of the mansion seemed to be entirely forbidden.

But they weren’t the harshest of employers.

Surprisingly, they’d even left a whole shelf of food in the fridge that she was permitted to eat from, thought the instructions had said that she was absolutely not to share any of the food labeled for her with their daughter.

For the most part, Trixie wasn’t interested in the smorgasbord of drinks, snacks, and meals that seemed to have been prepared just for her…

...except the plate of scrumptious cookies on the kitchen counter, as well as the gourmet chocolate cake there. A small white label next to the plate displayed her name in an ornate calligraphic script.

They were just too tantalizing not to indulge in. She grabbed a plate and helped herself to a brace of cookies and a slice of cake, before retreating to the sitting room and kicking up her hooves on the luxury divan.

This really wasn’t so bad! The process to get here had been a pain, and the cold, vacuous mansion was a little bit creepy once she was all alone in it, but free food and the promise of lots of bits made this the ideal gig!

She took a bite of her cookie. The taste of gooey, semi-sweet chocolate chips melted in her muzzle, making her moan with inward delight. If the snacks were going to be this amazing she might need to add a fitness regime to her week or she’d quickly be packing on the pounds from working at the Rich’s mansion.

Not that she wasn’t in amazing shape already.

Towing around her magical cart on the weekends when she practiced her magic-routine had given her flanks that would make even that apple-bucking teenage filly jealous. One day she hoped to upgrade to a full-fledged wagon, and she doubted she would be able to afford one of those fancy magic-propelled wagons - she’d need to keep building up that leg strength.

The fact that it made the colts in school drool as she passed was just a happy side-effect.

She scarfed down the cookies in record time, before switching her attention to the cake. The frosting, the light, spongey cake-bread, it was heaven.

This was a cake worthy of Celestia herself!

Forkful after forkful quickly found her staring at an empty plate, and only the raw satisfaction she was basking in stopped her from automatically racing to the kitchen to reload with another slice.

“Oh, wow,” Trixie leaned her head back on the couch, shutting her eyes with pleasure. Her belly felt so full, so delighted, so… hot?

She sat up, rubbing her stomach. Something felt funny... like her belly was warming up... as if she’d swallowed a hand-warmer and it had activated inside her, a chemical reaction that was quickly mounting from a small heat into a raging fire.

Sweat began to break out on her brow. Her tongue felt heavy, languid. She blinked, eyes feeling a little unfocused. Her fur seemed to be standing on end, sticking straight up away from her skin in an attempt to cool down her rapidly heating body, which was already building up a light sheen of sweat.

“P-phew, were there some chili peppers in that frosting or something?” Trixie asked herself, as she sat up and started to fan her warm face with one of her forehooves. The leg felt strangely heavy and groggy as she waved it up and down in the air, like the signals being sent from her brain were traveling too slowly.

And then she felt it.

Her… bits.

The warmth seemed to be migrating from her belly downward, and an uncomfortable tension was winding up in her lower body, like a spring that had been twisted too many times, binding tighter and tighter until it began to kink and warp.

“H-ha… ha…” Trixie nervously chuckled to herself, each laugh releasing a hot blast of air from her throat. It was almost like her insides had been replaced with lava.

Her bits were starting to swell now. She was conscious of the heat causing blood to rush in pulsing throbs “down there”, a desperate attempt by her circulatory system to try to bring some cooling relief. A vain attempt, since her blood seemed to be just as boiling as whatever effect was acting on her.

She felt things begin to swell, engorge. Surfaces that usually didn’t touch were now uncomfortably grinding into one another, into her thighs, into that little button of sensation.

“Eeep…” Trixie let out a little squeak as a sudden shiver of pleasure jolted her, sensitive nerve endings coming into contact with the open air for the first time. “Wh-what’s wrong with me?” Trixie continued to fan herself, surprised at just how quickly this had come on. She hadn’t felt like… this… since her heat last spring.

And even then, she hadn’t felt this… tension...

Perhaps a taste of it, when she’d embarrassingly secluded herself in her locked room and succumbed to her desire to hoof off her burning need. She remembered the embarrassing squeaks the bed had made as it jumped on the floor, the little yelps she’d been unable to suppress, the way her hips had lifted up off her bedspread…

That moment just before she’d… satisfied herself. That was the current level of exasperation she was currently feeling.

And strangely, she didn’t find it that unpleasant.

Trixie shifted on the couch a little bit, inadvertently grinding her bottom into the cushion. Instantly her back arched straight and trembles raced up her spine. She could feel her tail lifting under her, her dock throbbing harder and harder, trying to lift away from her backside - to expose more of her sensitive nethers to the fabric of the expensive couch.

The fabric!

Trixie groaned and hopped to her hooves, wheeling to look at the spot she had just been lounging on. It was a spot alright.

A very wet, pungent spot.

Trixie felt her nostrils tickle and twist as they took in the smell. She recognized her own aroused aroma from her time the previous spring, a thick fog of pheromones that was rapidly filling the sitting room, now that her burning backside was no longer constrained against the very rare, very pricey, very wet cashmere couch.

Crap!

She sprinted to the kitchen where she’d left the binder, each step sending little electric shocks coursing up from her rear as different parts of herself moved against each other. Hay, even her… teats, undersized though they might be (compared to some of the huge ones the fillies on the cheerleading team had) felt sensitive, warm, eager for action.

She blinked and shook her head, chewing hard on her lip to try to dull the throbbing heat she was feeling, as she reached the binder and tore open the cover, flipping it quickly to the section about furniture.

...if any of the furniture is stained or damaged it will be docked from the babysitter’s pay. Below are some of the cleaning methods to be used for various spills and accidents…

Trixie looked down the list, hoping to see something about food spills that she could adapt to the embarrassing emission she had just left. She was surprised to see that her ‘unique’ scenario was actually listed.

...filly-cum. Masturbation is permitted, as long as it is not in view or hearing of our daughter. We suggest that the use of one of the cotton towels on furniture be considered prior to indulging. However, if this is not possible, a mixture of warm water and dish soap can…

Trixie quickly grabbed a cup and began to fill it with water, pulling the dish towel from the nearby oven handle in preparation to give her ‘spot of shame’ a vigorous rubbing down.

As vigorous as she’d currently like to rub down something else.

Trixie shook her head clear, she had to focus!

*Ker-clack*

A loud opening bang filled the hallway, causing a momentary pit of dread in Trixie’s gut that almost surpassed the burning tension in her loins.

“We’re back early!”

Oh no.

“Hello? Trixie?” Spoiled Rich’s nasally whine filled the anteroom.

Trixie dropped the cup of warm water back into the sink and tossed the tea-towel back where she had found it. The fear was surging through her body now, little sparkles of adrenaline that surged to each of her hoof-tips as she danced in dismay at the thought of the upcoming disaster.

“I-I’m in the kitchen, I’ll be right there!” She nervously began to creep toward the entrance hall, each step feeling the grinding of her thighs against herself. Even with the shock of adrenaline her body still hadn’t cooled even a single iota. If anything, the surge of fear made her feel even more sensitive, more alive.

She gritted her teeth as she approached her employers who were already making their way into the sitting room. Plans flew in and out of her head about how she might be able to distract them for long enough to get back to the kitchen and clean the couch, then to dry it somehow, each one crazier and more improbable than the next.

She rounded the corner, and saw… him.

The moment she entered the sitting-room her eyes locked on to Filthy Rich. It was strange. She’d seen him many times before, both around town and through the preliminary interview process… but now, he seemed to almost… glow.

That wavy lock of obsidian hair, those piercing sapphire-blue eyes, his chiseled jaw… those strong, muscular earth-pony shoulders… and those fine, well-toned hips that could surely drive home the unseen appendage between his-

Trixie coughed, to cover the drooling strand of saliva that was leaking from a corner of her mouth. Chuckling nervously, she took a deep, steadying breath, in the hope of composing herself before her new employers might notice that her twintails were almost drenched with sweat.

“Ah, there you are, has our little angel already gone to bed?” Spoiled asked while inspecting her own visage in the hallway mirror, primping her well-coiffed mane and adjusting her pearl necklace.

Trixie stared at the high-society mare’s beautiful collarbone and the shimmering pearls. A pearl necklace. A pearl necklace that had been given to her by Filthy Rich. What Trixie wouldn’t do to get him to give her a different kind of pearl-

“Well? Is she?” Spoiled turned to her with an annoyed, fierce gaze, jerking Trixie out of her reverie.

“Y-yes! I put her in bed…”

Just like I’d like Mr. Rich to put me in his bed- STOP! What’s wrong with me?

That was when it hit her, at first she thought that perhaps Filthy Rich had put on an extremely powerful cologne that must have been very expensive, whatwith how amazing it smelled. But she quickly realized that it was no false perfumery that was wafting through the air, it was just him.

His musk.

It was like cedarwood-spice over a summer campfire. An oaky smell of masculine toughness that screamed about a surplus of good genetics. Trixie could almost feel her female biological calculator clicking and clacking away, running through algorithms that screamed out the same answer: be bred by this stallion.

Trixie blinked, shaking her head and trying to breathe through her mouth, quickly casting her eyes downward in a vain attempt to shake the studly image of her new crush from her eyes. She held a hoof over her chest to steady herself, feeling the pounding heart there just beneath her ribcage.

What’s wrong with me? Relax!

“Hello Trixie,” Filthy spoke up for the first time. His voice seemed to her ears to be two octaves lower than she remembered it to be, a baritone growl that seemed both welcoming and dangerous at the same time. He paused, sniffing the air. “Just what is that delightful aroma?”

You.

Trixie blinked away the immediate answer in her head, quickly realizing that he wasn’t just suddenly smelling himself.

“Smells like cinnamon, have you been cooking?” He began to follow his nose, coming closer and closer to her.

“You better not have - our oven and gas range cost a fortune to put in, and only the best master-chefs even know how to use them properly.” Spoiled sniffed, trotting by the teenage babysitter.

Filthy came closer, following the scent right up to Trixie.

She shivered in place, her watery eyes looking up at her employer. He seemed to tower over her, seemed massive and solid. She certainly was a head-height shorter than him, being only a teen-filly… but suddenly the business-pony seemed larger than even that red farm-stallion.

He sniffed near to her neck, lowering his nostrils close to the sweaty collar of her zip-up hoody pullover, which seemed almost soaked with sweat. He was close enough to her that she could feel his body heat, his warmth. She wasn’t sure but it really seemed like he was getting much much closer than should be acceptable, his nose almost brushing the nape of her neck as he took a deep inhale.

The way he so casually invaded her space, overpowered her, smelled her… Trixie felt her body throb in response, felt her nethers swell even further. She was embarrassed, shy, excited, all rolled into one.

“That’s a lovely perfume, Trixie,” Filthy growled sultrily into her ear, before casually brushing past her.

As he passed her, his dark tail slid along her right flank. It could have been an accident, it happened often enough when ponies trotted by each other that a stray tail might swish against somepony else.

But the situation, the way everything was happening. It left a fiery trace in its wake, tingling along her side. It was like he had just boldly stated that he could touch her however he wanted.

Trixie shivered, almost swooning in place.

“Hmm… looks like you might have spilled some of that perfume here Trixie?” Filthy casually asked.

Trixie whirled about, her face beet red from her shockingly physical reactions to Filthy’s seemingly innocent presence.

Filthy reached down and dabbed the wet spot of Trixie’s on the couch with his left hoof.

“O-oh w-wait-” Trixie stammered, too slow. She watched, horrified, as Filthy brought the hoof to his lips and tasted the small sample he’d collected.

Filthy’s eyes raised up slowly then stared deep into Trixie’s face, his tongue still working around inside his jaw as he savored the fluid he’d put there. For a moment, Trixie was worried that she might lose herself in those deep blue pools, it was like he was staring right through her... like he could see her every secret.

He’s… he’s tasting me.

“...fantastic,” He grinned, smacking his lips and winking at Trixie.

He… he likes it? Trixie felt a rush of embarrassment flood her cheeks with hot blood. Filthy was such a no-nonsense business pony, a pillar of the community. And here was this stud of a stallion tasting her… juice.

“I’m sure,” Spoiled grunted, taking a seat on the couch with enough distance from the spot to show her clear disgust for the strange deposit. She sat like a noble-mare would, prim and proper with her nose held high.

Filthy took a seat next to her, right on top of the wet spot of the couch. But he made no effort to seat himself as though he were in an audience with the princess herself, this was his home after all. He leaned back, stretching his forelegs over the back of the couch as he did so, and let his rear legs open wide in relaxation, splaying his hips wide in comfort.

And very quickly revealing everything that had been hidden from Trixie’s view since he’d entered his home.

Ba-BUMP

Author's Note

Oh boy, I wonder what he just revealed...

Maybe it's his pog collection?

New employee oral training session

The pulse of her heartbeat was so loud as her eyes locked onto the new target, that Trixie thought for a moment she might burst an eardrum.

Right before her, without the least bit of shame or modesty, stiffly standing up with pride… was her employer’s big, black, very erect, throbbing stallionhood.

Trixie had seen stallionhoods before, of course. In a society where the flick of a tail due to a fly bite or a gust of wind could reveal a pony’s nethers to the entire public, she’d gotten an eyeful of most of her classmates’ junk at some point or another, even glances at teachers, shop mares, and trades-stallions around town. It really wasn’t that uncommon.

But ponies tended to be more delicate about overt arousal.

Walking around with a flagged tail and a winking marehood was obscene, and colts and stallions could sometimes be spotted sitting awkwardly or lying down for no reason… except to hide an inadvertent erection out of decency and shame from their fellow townsfolk.

There was no such shame in Filthy, here in his home.

And Trixie really didn’t see anything he should be ashamed about.

She may not have seen many erect stallions bobbing about town, but that didn’t mean that there was a thriving, illicit trade between the fillies at her high school, trading dirty magazines of famously large porn-studs and lewd photographs of cuter colts in class. The trade could be especially thriving in the spring months when the rapidly maturing fillies would find themselves beset with new biological urges that would test their chastity. Fillies could be worse than even the randiest teen-colts during those springtimes in their ogling of the male form, and Trixie was familiar with the wide variety of phallic possibilities that existed in Equestria, despite having never seen one with her own eyes, ‘in the flesh’, so to speak.

And what she was looking at now blew her away. Forget the diminutive size of the much-copied, once private (until shared by their boastful filly friends), photos of her colt classmates… what she was looking at now made even the famous stallions of the almost-fetishistic ‘Size Princess - Big Boys Edition’ magazine look average.

Trixie’s eyes sparkled and her ears flicked upward with uncontrolled excitement as her body naturally reacted to the sight it was seeing...

Unlike his brown body, Filthy’s huge stallionhood was jet black. It shone with either a polished-smooth skin or a light sheen of lubricant… and it was so magnificent that Trixie had to observe it in parts, slowly tracing her gaze along its rugged, masculine presence.

She started from the bottom, where her shameful stain had once been. She couldn’t see it now, as a heavy pouch of male orchids covered it entirely. Filthy’s large ballsack poured over the edge of the couch. Two heavy eggs sat with pendulous mass in its rugged, manly purse, which twitched and flexed naturally under the changing temperatures. Trixie imagined the smell that had been driving her mad, it must have been dripping off those beautiful orbs!

Her eyes went higher, to the slick, veiny base of her boss’s stallionhood. It was thick. Terrifyingly thick. She heard the famous old mare’s adage that ‘things grow bigger in the country’, but Filthy’s leg-thick girth made her think that was a huge understatement. Huge ridges and veins added even more to the width in select areas, right up to a medial ring that looked more like a donut that she could purchase at Sugarcube Corner than something that would fit in her. From there it stretched upward, longer and longer, towering to a stupendous height. It easily reached above Filthy’s belly button, over 18 inches of pure stallion.

And the head.

Trixie swallowed inadvertently as she looked at the hoof-sized dome of meat. A slender neck from the tapering end of the shaft quickly ballooned outward to an aggressive ring of a bumpy, ridged glans. The gleaming, throbbing meatus had a single wide slit that looked more like a milkshake straw, which was clearly leaking something clear that trailed down the impossible length.

Trixie blinked, stumbled, then laughed nervously with shame, turning her head away decently to look at a spot on the ceiling, even as her eyes continually darted back to the incredible sight, confirming that this monstrous delight in front of her was indeed real.

“S-s-sorry… I… uh…” Trixie stammered out, unsure why she was apologizing. Spoiled and Filthy seemed completely casual about his overtly erotic display, if anything they were amused at her response.

“I’m sure you don’t mind me stretching out and getting a bit of air, right Trixie?” Filthy asked casually. “It can be so stuffy and tiring hiding this thing all evening, and I know you’re a mature young mare that isn’t bothered by such trifles.”

“O-of… of cou-, y-yeah!” Trixie stammered, still trying to avoid blatantly staring at her employer’s massive presence. But she was bothered. Her body was screaming out as if that warmth between her legs had grown to a fire… it was quickly becoming a furnace. Her biology was suddenly sensing that there was a strong, very virile male nearby.

And it was reacting.

Really reacting.

If this was anywhere else - at school, or in public… she’d probably be shrieking in offense and storming out. But something about how relaxed and easy the Riches seemed to be, and the nagging and unlikely scenarios playing in her head that urged her to ‘go with the flow’ and see where this might take her, caused her to try to show her own casual, mature indifference to the situation.

A sweating, lip-biting, body-trembling, tail-beginning-to-lift indifference.

Spoiled grinned, noticing Trixie’s powerful reaction and her failing attempts to stifle it. “He is rather impressive when he’s all pent up, isn’t he?” She clicked her tongue and reached over grasping the head of her husband’s stallionhood casually as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do in front of their young babysitter. “But let me tell you, it is most inconvenient to have such a thing bobbing about when you’re out trolling, it scares half the eligible mares away.”

“T-trolling?” Trixie gulped, eyes fixated on the way Spoiled’s hoof was grasping the hard black flesh of Filthy’s huge endowment. It wasn’t squishy at all, completely unyieldingly rigid against her hoof.

“Mm. Quite,” Spoiled sighed as if Trixie were an uncultured fool for even asking. The prim socialite turned away from her husband, though she was still massaging his tip, speaking directly at Trixie even as her hoof began to slowly stroke up and down without her needing to focus on her lewd actions. “It’s all the fashion in Canterlot, you know… swinging?”

“Sw-swinging?” Trixie gulped, her eyes darting from the snarky gaze of Spoiled to the grinning-with-pleasure face of Filthy… to the pumping hoof that couldn’t even come close to encircling the meaty shaft.

“It’s when a married couple invites another pony into their bed or even swaps partners.” Spoiled’s snark turned into a grin as she noticed the discomfort and unease rising in Trixie’s visage. “In Prance, they might even have two stallions to a mare, though Filthy won’t entertain such an idea…”

“I may not have many limits, dear, but I do have some,” He chuckled, shifting his hips to let his wife hoof him off more comfortably in front of their teenage sitter. “Speaking of limits…”

Trixie watched Filthy’s face contort slightly, a momentary grimace under his wife’s swirling-hoof ministrations. And then a large spurt of clear, sticky, thick liquid launched from his tip, arcing in a graceful parabola to land with enough force on the beautiful rosewood floor to make an audible splatter. The burble of essence didn’t stop there, trickling now constantly from his straining head to coat his virility with a sheen of slick sexiness.

“Ah, excuse me.”

“And what hope do we have to attract a third when you have this thing, leaking and terrifying these provincial natives?” Spoiled rolled her eyes and tsked, semi-swatting her husband’s length.

Trixie was stunned by the sight of what she’d just seen. But even more so, she was rocked by the smell.

That huge shot of stallion pre-ejaculate stank with the rich, testosterone-laden musk of Filthy’s studliness. She could almost see the fog of hot, steaming pheromones spreading from the puddle where the pre-ejaculation had landed, filling the room and her nostrils with the stench of him.

That coiled spring in Trixie’s belly buckled, bending under the new olfactory forces suddenly applied to it. Her body trembled and shook, muscles firing. Her fillyhood clenched and strained, in ways it never had before, like it had a mind of its own. It jittered, an abortive first run of muscles that were hitherto unused, then launched into what its biology had been designed to do.

She winked.

The wracking strain of her pelvic floor muscles caused her insides to feel like they were pouring out of her, stretching her nethers open and exposing boiling pink inner-walls to the relatively cooler air of the Rich’s home.

For a brief moment, Trixie was relieved that she was facing her employers - that there was a chance that her first wink might possibly pass unnoticed… though the adults’ knowing and clever glances seemed to suggest otherwise.

But then she winked again.

Harder.

This time she felt her tail flag up into the air, her dock driven there by the spasm of what felt like every fiber of her powerful glutes. This time her blooming nethers clenched even more stringently, and she felt her lovebud, that little nub of hidden pleasure, shoot out from its deep hiding spot to strain out into the open air, revealing the teenager’s large clit to the world for the first time.

Still, that would have maybe been out of sight… maybe even her silly-stupidly involuntary grin and eye twitch on her contorted face could have been explained away. Maybe she could have slammed her aching rump to the cool floor and tried to laugh off her sudden seizure-like reaction to her boss’s pheromones…

Except the final clench had come with a wet finish.

She squirted.

It was so relieving, and embarrassing, all at once. A hot splatter of sticky teen-filly cum sprayed out of her body with chaotic inefficiency. It wasn’t her bladder - she could feel it coming from deeper inside her, from the swollen tissue of her nethers… and yet it was no less embarrassing.

The sound of hot mare-cum pitter-pattering onto her posh employers’ floor, the feel of the sticky, juice trickling down her inner-thighs and running over her hooves to join the existing puddle, the very noticeable odor of her own pungent arousal flooding into the mix of hedonistic fog already present.

She felt like she’d wet her pants in front of the whole school assembly.

“O-oh G-goddess, I’m so sorr-”

“Not on the carpet, please,” Spoiled intoned, bored, more concerned about the unspeakable liquid pool approaching her pristine Saddle Arabian hoof-woven rug than the fact her babysitter had just creamed herself in front of her. She pointed with her hoof at the stain already appearing on the beautiful threads.

“Oh, oh I… I’ll clea-”

“Leave it.” Filthy laughed with a good-hearted smile looking over at his still-stroking wife. “I’ll buy you another one, sweetie… please don’t make Trixie feel uncomfortable.”

“Hmmph,” She grunted, then cast a knowing glance at Trixie. “Anyway, you see what I mean when I say finding a suitable mare to satisfy this thing has proven difficult?”

“A-ah,” Trixie mumbled, unsure what to say, what to think, what to do. She lifted a rear-hoof out of the puddle of her own shame.

“Although,” Spoiled ceased her pumping and hopped onto her hooves, trotting up to the frozen, quivering teen, “I have had my eye on one unicorn in Ponyville.”

Trixie could scarcely breathe. The way this mare so easily moved into her space, the way her well-bred hips swayed as she confidently strode across the room and put her muzzle right off of hers.

“Oh? You haven’t told me about her, sweetie,” Filthy teased, coyly raising an eyebrow.

“Sure I have, darling.” Spoiled casually shook her head, then began to walk around Trixie, like a drill-sergeant inspecting a royal guard recruit. “She has blue fur, silver-sparkling mane… the most lovely lavender eyes… and a flank you could bounce a bit off of.” As she said this last part, she ran a hoof over Trixie’s left buttock, squeezing casually like she already owned the body-part in question.

“Why do you like mare’s butts to be so athletic, sweetie?” Filthy shook his head with bemusement.

“Well, when they have tight flanks, other things tend to be tight as well, darling.”

Spoiled said this as she circled right behind Trixie, making her shiver - she knew at this very moment, with her tail hiked high in arousal, Spoiled could see every bit of her, and she knew that there a good deal of her vision would be filled with pink flesh.

For an instant, Trixie could feel what she thought was Spoiled’s breath along her exposed plot, sending another quiver through her.

“I almost forgot how much you enjoy the taste of a mare, sweetie,” Spoiled waggled his eyebrows.

“This unicorn looked particularly delicious. Positively dripping. The young ones are always so eager.”

Filthy smiled at the sight of his wife inspecting Trixie’s plot like a carnivore inspecting a side of beef, not caring that the young teen looked to be almost melting with embarrassed anxiety, “Do you think she’d spread her hooves for you?”

“I hope so,” Spoiled chuckled, finishing her circling. “I think so. The last time I saw her, she was quivering like a leaf with desire.”

“Not every mare is a filly-fooler, dear,” Filthy warned, gripping his own stallionhood for the first time and giving it a delicate waggle. “You may have seen her while she was thinking of her coltfriend.”

“Perhaps,” Spoiled crossed back to Trixie’s front, then leaned in close to her ear and whispered, clearly for her, “but I think if I asked her, she’d let me show her just what a lady can accomplish with her tongue.” At this, Spoiled let her tongue loll out of her mouth, then deliberately, languidly snaked it in front of Trixie’s nose.

It was so long. So flexible, almost freakishly so. Trixie could feel her heart thumping in her ears again… was this really happening?

Deliberately, slowly, Spoiled let that usually venomous tongue of hers dance a little flicking jig in mid-air, clearly showing her skill. The darting end left no doubt as to what this gyrating skill could accomplish when applied… and Trixie’s imagination was already going wild with just how amazing that little skillful end could quench the burning ache that seemed to throb into her every thought.

“Y-yes…” T-trixie whispered out of her mouth. She wasn’t even sure she’d said it. She didn’t even know what she’d meant by saying it.

Everything was just so… so… overwhelming. These feelings, the way these two sophisticated ponies were casually flirting with her.

It slipped out of her - as if some other desire-driven part of her mind had hijacked her consciousness for the brief moment to answer the unspoken question.

“Well well well,” Spoiled clucked, her blue eyes darting off of Trixie’s for a moment and focusing on her cheek, “What’s this?”

Spoiled’s talented tongue slid in and painted itself across Trixie’s left cheek, leaving a deep, wet trail in its wake. Trixie couldn’t believe it was happening, had no idea what to do. Her mouth opened slightly, expecting the kiss to come just like it would in the movies.

Her first kiss.

But instead, the mare’s hot tongue finished its lick and retreated to the safety of Spoiled’s own mouth.

“Chocolate crumbs?” Spoiled looked over her shoulder at the kitchen for a brief moment before flicking her eyes back to Trixie. She gazed deep into them with the striking focus of a predator as she spoke to her husband. “I believe our babysitter decided to not only eat the cookies we left out for her but had the audacity to take a slice of my birthday cake!”

Trixie squeaked in dismay and fear, she was so off-balance, words just came bumbling out of her. “OhgoshI’msosorryIthoughtitw-”

A hoof to her mouth silenced her.

Filthy smiled and quickly responded. “Well dear, I think it’s only fair that you get to eat something of hers then.”

Trixie’s eyes widened. She felt like her heart was going to explode. There was so much adrenaline coursing through her veins, so much fear and nervousness and excitement and inexperience… she felt like she’d just finished running the fitness test for gym class. She was all shakes and jitters as Spoiled took her by the hoof and led her over to the couch.

“I believe you’re right, darling.”

With an easy flick of her hooves, Spoiled guided Trixie onto the couch, next to her husband, sitting back into the cushions, taking the weight off her bottom. In this position, it was so easy to let her hips fall to their sides, so natural…

But she couldn’t do this, could she? She was just here to babysit! How had this all happened, so fast? What was going on?

Trixie tried to squeeze her hips closed, despite the grinding heat she could feel when she did so.

Was this really happening? Could she stop this?

Did she want to stop this?

The answer was never decisive, no simple thought in her mind. It came physically, as Spoiled gingerly placed a hoof on either one of her thighs and carefully pushed outwards.

Trixie shivered as her body groaned with relief and excitement, every nerve, every hormone, every part of her biology needing this. Quivering inch by quivering inch, her legs splayed open, laying her teenage snatch open to Spoiled’s hungry face, as the matron sat between her hooves on the floor beneath the couch.

She smiled up at the Trixie one last time as she let her tongue slip from her lips.

NSFW PIC GOES HERE derpi booru.org/images/2360513

“Bon appetit.”

Trixie wasn’t sure where she was.

Heaven? Some kind of tantric Tartarus?

She could only dimly remember that she was actually still in Equestria, plunked down on an expensive couch, seated next to one of her employers… as the other one went to town between her thighs.

Trixie’s head pressed backwards into the soft couch pillows in delicious, agonizing pleasure-tension under the ministrations of Spoiled’s impossibly skilled tongue.

The young mother had oral skills that were more likely to be found in a well-traveled, experienced madam of a prestigious Canterlot boudoir.

Not that the naive and overwhelmed high-school babysitter would have been able to discern such a thing.

Until only a few moments ago, the only thing to touch her nethers had been her own shy, unsure hoof during nervous and hurried explorations in the privacy in her own room. Her wavering hooftip had rarely strayed further than the tender outlines of her young marehood, although that had always been enough to bring the excitable young mare to satisfaction.

Her shock, therefore, when Spoiled began was immense.

The matron’s tongue had started by pressing into the concavity of her blue dock, slicking along the tender, furless skin and leaving a wet smear of hot saliva in its wake as she slowly swirled upwards. Spoiled’s eyes never left her squirming, young ward… her wolf-sharp eyes taking in every moment of Trixie’s reactions, as dear to her as the debauched act itself.

Trixie couldn’t break the gaze, the blush in her cheeks growing rosier and hotter as Spoiled’s tongue, so skillful and sharp in its rebukes and insults, slid upwards.

She wouldn’t, would she?

Spoiled let her eyebrows arch upward for the first time that evening with playful intensity, and then slid the tip of her tongue around Trixie’s tight, dark tailhole.

She would!

“A-ah!” Trixie squeaked, almost bucking up off the couch with her hips. She had almost no time to process a silent prayer of thanks to Celestia that she’d been taught at a young age that magical sterilization spell for post-toilet-use cleansing… her bottom and even her sphincter was as clean as a restaurant dinner plate...

Now the tight, black tailhole was being lavished by a skillful tongue. Spoiled traced wet circles around the outline of the little bulging orifice, eliciting uncomfortable giggling quivers from the mare above.

Trixie moaned, clenching reflexively against the strange sensations. Oh Goddesses… this feels so… strange… and so good.

“I always knew you had a foul mouth, sweetie,” Filthy teased, as he shuffled closer to the supine Trixie. His stallion-ly bulk was now pressing against Trixie’s right side, the heat and musk of his presence invading her space as much as his wife’s tongue was.

Spoiled merely scoffed, sending a blast of hot air over Trixie’s nethers. Her tongue slid up and over the teen’s tight asshole, tracing the delicate and timid wrinkled folds of the nervously squeezed anus.

“E-eep!” Trixie squeaked, covering her muzzle with her forehooves in embarrassment. She could feel the sharp tip of Spoiled’s tongue press ever so slightly into her butt, just a half-inch from entering that taboo back-entrance.

A pony. A different pony… was inside her!

The thought was as scary as it was exciting. A shiver ran through her, and she felt a small rush of powerful neuro-chemical excitement flood her synapses.

Spoiled pulled back her teasing muscle, she knew better than to fry the mind of an inexperienced partner with sensations best left for a seasoned expert. She drew her tongue further upwards, toying and lingering on that dark-blue patch of hyper-sensitive skin that sat just under the quivering fillyhood… Trixie’s taint.

“O-oh! OH!” Trixie groaned, shutting her eyes as Spoiled’s tongue flattened and pressed into the bottom of her fillyhood, staying outside her lips but lapping upwards in a big, fat lick... not unlike how a colt might attack a dripping ice cream cone on a summer day.

And Trixie’s oral assailant must have received even more sweet juice than that colt would have, with how much she was leaking. The feel of warm, wet flesh against her fillyhood was exciting, scary, new, sensational… all at once.

She didn’t even notice Filthy pressing more deeply into her side, as her head flung back with abandon.

Spoiled’s tongue continued lapping the outside of her plump lips. Sometimes tracing the narrow, mare-cum slick crevice between her engorged labia and her tender inner-thigh flesh... sometimes drawing itself up along the tight slit itself, the flat of her tongue drawing roughly across the protruding pink inner lips and bumping over the sensitive clitoral hood… but never actually plunging in, never assaulting the burning heat of Trixie’s deepest need.

“H-hah… hah…” Trixie was clenching her shut eyes in increasing frustration, mouth open and gasping. The feelings were so intense, so overwhelming, and yet so inadequate! More and more she could sense what her body wanted, what that burning pit in her gut had been asking for since even before the Riches had returned: she wanted something inside her, now!

Spoiled pulled back from her external preparation, quickly surveying her meal. The teen-filly’s pussy was in a perfect state. It was framed, almost artistically. With a sweaty bedraggled tail, quivering dock, and shining-slick tailhole below… and a set of pert, still-developing teats above, dark blue nipples protruding stiffly from the two mounds.

The framed work itself was perfection.

A dark blue teen cunt, throbbing and engorged with red-hot, pumping blood. Just the barest tuft of pubic fur, likey the first wisps of adulthood, rested atop Trixie’s gorgeous mons venus, and this was already soaked in a combination of her sweat and shamefully excessive love-juice. The edge of the mons quickly gave way to her adorably squishy outer lips, swollen with arousal and only slightly parted by a rigid, pink bud.

Trixie’s clit.

The erect love-nub was peeking out from under its clitoral hood, pressing forward like a nervous student raising her hand in class, desperate for attention in the relatively cooler air of the outside world.

And from there, a set of slim, inner-labia guarded the tight, twisting, pink inner-confines of Trixie’s velvet depths. Only periodically would a clench or quiver send the lips peeling up, like a blooming rosebud, displaying a hint of the hot-pink depths within as it released a new flood of steaming, clear natural lubricant.

“Open your eyes. I want you to watch this.” Trixie could only barely hear Spoiled’s command, but she obeyed.

Trixie’s thoughts raced with an eclectic mix of fear and longing as she looked down at Spoiled’s grinning face. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck… is she going to? Will she? Oh, I hope, I hope…

And all thoughts left her as the mare plunged into her pussy.

“Ahn… ahn! F-f-f-FUCK!” Trixie shouted, her hips lifting off the couch.

She knew the feeling, though she’d never been so out of control in its arrival:

She was cumming.

The wormlike tongue was deep inside her, pressing hard into every side of her walls, as the mare’s snout buried into the top of her pussy, grinding deep into her winking clitoris. Nerve endings that had never been touched were now being overwhelmed. The burning need of her desire had snapped over into a raging volcano of explosive pleasure.

At the same time, Filthy made his move, leaning over her with his imposing size. For a brief moment, Trixie’s wavering, wobbling eyes thought that the wealthy stud was leaning in for a kiss… but instead he slipped upward and took her horn into his mouth.

Suddenly she was being assaulted from both sides, two tongues slipping into every deeply private, personal, untouchable crevice of her body, one wrapping around the sensitive coils of her horn, which felt almost like he was fellating her brain itself… the other deep inside her cunt, Prench-kissing her femininity.

Her orgasm broke her.

A cascading flood of oxytocin, adrenalin, estrogen, magic, and endorphins spilled from her brain, flooding down through her circulatory and nervous system as it did so, overloading the sensation of every fiber of her physical being as it did so, leaving firework traces in its wake.

The wave slammed into her nethers like a tsunami, launching her body into a set of milking convulsions that wrapped and coiled around Spoiled’s tongue, pulling over and over again at the mare’s oral muscle as it clenched and released around her. The jerking muscular contractions sent Trixie’s clitoris shooting outward in powerful winks, smashing into Spoiled’s wet nose as it did… and gushing hot fill-fluid all over the matron’s face.

The wave rebounded from there, coursing all the way back up, out through each of her limbs, making her legs kick and buck involuntarily as the wave of pleasure gained speed, racing faster and faster up to her head… and out through her horn.

“Oh… OH F-FUCK!” She groaned even louder.

It felt like she was casting involuntarily, raw magic spilling out of her horn in huge gushes, directly into Filthy’s waiting mouth.

It was agony. It was ecstasy.

A little death.

Trixie’s eyes crossed in pleasure and faded, as she lost herself to the raw sensation.

Author's Note

Wow, Spoiled sure has a sharp tongue.

Did you like this scene?

Oral performance review

When she came to, she was laying in a puddle of her own sweat and cum, the couch now a ruin of soaking, love-stinky debauchery.

“Ah, she’s come to, darling,” Spoiled chuckled from in front of Trixie, where she was inspecting the mare.

“Well, she needed her rest for what’s next.” Filthy replied, coyly… still reclining comfortably on the couch with his legs spread.

Groggily, Trixie felt herself lifted up from her moaning, gasping heap. Spoiled was ginger, but insistent, coaxing Trixie’s still spasming and quivering muscles to bear her own weight and stand up from the couch.

“Come on… My darling has been very patient, waiting for his turn… and you’ve been sleeping on the job.”

Trixie blinked groggily, one eyelid closing faster than the other as she tried to bring some focus back into her vision.

“W-wha…” She mumbled, parts of her brain still slowly rebooting from the impossible experience she’d just had.

“Filthy has been waiting very patiently for you to take care of his cock… dear,” Spoiled’s words had a playful edge to them. Carefully, the matron pet Trixie’s mane with care and straightened her, steadying the babysitter so she was sitting right in front of Filthy.

“Now now, don’t push her, sweetie,” Filthy chided. “Let her get her hooves under her.”

“Oh please,” Spoiled chuckled, tapping on Trixie’s back to urge her forward. “Just look at her nostrils flare, her body knows what it wants, even if her mind doesn’t… yet.”

It was true. Even as her vision slowly came back, Trixie could smell that wonderful musk, that erotic foggy stench of Filthy’s great horsecock just in front of her nose. If anything, it was helping her body to reboot faster, winding back up that desperate burning desire of lust which had only recently been slightly sated.

The huge stallionhood quickly came into focus. It was still there, hanging just off her snout, the huge bulk of it even more terrifying up close and looking at it from underneath. She felt her tongue thickening in her throat again, drool and saliva starting to build up… along with other juices.

Goddesses, what is this fire in me? Trixie issued a wordless groan. Her body had such a yearning in it, such a burning… her orgasm had done nothing to quell the needs that had sprung up from so deep in her soul… if anything, the rush of pleasure had only helped to shut down what was left of her consciousness, leaving her a pawn to instinct and desire.

And that instinct was pointing her toward this… stud in front of her.

Her mouth dropped open slightly, letting out steaming, foggy breaths.

“Ah, I think we have her attention now, sweetie,” Filthy grinned, leaning forward. As he did this, it tilted his cock forward, the phallic obelisk creeping forward until it booped Trixie in her stunned snout.

It’s touching me.

“Go on, don’t keep him waiting,” Spoiled chided, taking one of Trixie’s hooves off the floor and guiding it to Filthy’s cock, delicately laying it along the midway point of his shaft, “it won’t bite.”

Trixie’s hoof reached out to Filthy’s massive cock, touched just below the medial ring. This was the first time she’d touched a stallionhood - touched anypony with this sort of erotic overtone.

Her heart was racing. She felt terribly inexperienced - and decided to simply default to what her body was telling her to do.

She gingerly began to wrap her hoof around the horseflesh. It was so hot, heavy and rigid, throbbing through her frog with each of Filthy’s heartbeats. She couldn’t even come close to wrapping her hoof around him.

This was supposed to go into a pony? Maybe… maybe even into her?

She shivered slightly with fear, looking shyly up at Filthy through her bangs.

“Go on, then…” Spoiled sniffed, “Stroke.”

Trixie began to move her hoof downward, letting the delicate skin of her frog glide over Filthy’s hot, black, stallion flesh. Each bump and vein pulsed into the sole of her underhoof, as it slid further and further downward, over a seemingly unending run of cock.

With each passing inch, her mind churned with more anxious anxiety - mentally her track of the impossibility of fitting this… thing into her body as her hoof travelled further and further terrified her…

And excited her.

Finally, her hoof met the tangled muff of pubic fur at the base of Filthy’s stout, solid base.

Trixie’s mouth opened slightly, her breath caught in her gut as she was stunned by the realization that her hoof now didn’t even make it halfway around the living, bulging snake of black sausage.

“You might need to use both hooves, dear,” Spoiled coughed, her prescription offered with the barest hint of superiority, which she seemed unable to restrain.

Trixie reached her second shaking hoof forward, taking hold of the shaft. This now meant that her upper body stability now relied upon Filthy’s rigidity… and somehow his powerful erection seemed to bear her weight with no issue, as inconsequentially as if she were resting on a steel beam. For a moment, she imagined herself being lifted by his powerful cock itself, speared by it and hoisted off the ground.

“I-it’s… t-too big,” The whisper escaped her lips.

“I assure you it’s not,” Spoiled guffawed. “Why don’t you turn around and darling will show you just how stretchy a mare can become?”

“Uh…” Trixie blinked looking back up at Filthy as her hooves began to slide their way back up his shaft. He was looking down at her with a kind grin, amused by her fluster. “I…”

“In due time, sweetie,” Filthy chided her, never breaking his smiling gaze at Trixie. “I wouldn’t want to pop on the first stroke… I’m fit to burst.”

Spoiled tsked back through clenched teeth at Filthy, her eyes narrowing with displeasure. “What is it with you always wanting to drench your partner ‘s face with your first load?” She shook her head disapprovingly. “It’s like you’re living out some plebeian pornographic fantasy, it’s most uncultured.”

“Sorry, sweetie,” Filthy winced slightly, “but I do love the look.” His smile grew as he looked down at Trixie.

Trixie could see his eyes flaring with excitement, intensity. Behind those deep blue pools, he was already defiling her, marking her, painting her. She could strongly sense, for the first time, his desire to possess her. To make her his. To add her to his debauched fantasies.

She felt very much like the inexperienced teen she was, like a filly on the ancient plains of Equestria about to be herded into some feral stud’s harem.

“But you’d better start stroking a bit faster, dear,” Filthy’s sultry growl was directed at her, ringing through her ears. “I may be close to the edge, but I’ll still need a little help from you to get there.”

He reached down and grasped Trixie’s two hooves with his own, then started to increase the pace of Trixie’s masturbating strokes. Faster and faster, with more and more pressure. She was surprised by how much force and violence was needed to actually hoof off a stallion, this strong cock really was like a piece of iron wrapped in flesh!

“Let’s get it a little slick, shall we?” Filthy winked, as he leaned forward.

One of his hooves left hers, snaking quickly down between her thighs as he lurched forward with an awkward lean, bringing his cock bouncing off her snout again. She had little time to think about the wet slap of his heavy cockhead against her muzzle before the press of Filthy’s hoof against her hot teen snatch drove any reaction from her in an excited gasp.

He was not like Spoiled. Not delicate, skillful, or adroit.

This was force, size, and determination.

A stallion’s hoof.

And it was inside her!

Pressing into her winking furrow and sliding upwards, grinding against her clitoris as it pulled upwards, scooping a slick dollop of her steaming fillycum.

The hoof slid up her chest, leaving a trail of sticky messes in its wake as it lazily traced up to her face. The stallion looked at her with smug domination and let his slick-wet hoof press into Trixie’s muzzle.

He’s making me taste myself!

Trixie was beyond resistance at this point, there was no way for her to resist that hoof. The tart, cinnamon tang of her own juices burning on her tongue. But he didn’t linger there, his hoof quickly slipping away and skillfully playing over his own cock head, slicking the dark dome with her juice.

My juice… mine… it’s on him. Coating him!

Her hooves moved faster over the well-lubricated flesh. The hot mix of her slick cunny-juice and the increasing trickle of Filthy’s clear liquid made her hooves fly, pumping harder and harder.

The stallion groaned and slid backward, getting comfortable once again and letting Trixie set her own pace now.

“That’s it... yeah… mmm…” Filthy’s husky groan rumbled from his chest.

It was invigorating, intoxicating. She had this massive dick in her hooves, and her own movements, her own actions, were bringing so much pleasure to this stud… making him throb and twitch, alive under her ministrations... making him groan and shift, all that overwhelming presence reducing to putty in his hands.

“He’s close, use your mouth, dear,” Spoiled clicked with her tongue as she breathed. It seemed clear that she had wanted to use a different word, the way she said dear screamed like she actually wanted to call her a slut, or a whorse.

Trixie didn’t care. She wasn’t even sure Spoiled was wrong. Trixie was loving this.

Pleasing her stallion, lavishing his phallus, his masculinity. Worshiping him.

She leaned forward, unsure.

The huge bobbing, black, head was the size of her hoof. It reminded her more of trying to fit an entire candy-apple into her mouth.

Impossible.

She hadn’t even kissed a stallion yet! And now she was going to be kissing… that?

But it smelled so good.

And her stud’s moans sounded so good.

She wanted to please him, wanted to inhale that incredible musk, wanted to be closer to him, one with him… to taste him.

She leaned forward, softly extending her tongue and pressing it against Filthy’s glans.

Hot.

Musky.

Amazing.

She began to slurp upward, coating the underside of his glans as she lapped up the slickness, nearing closer and closer to his drooling cockslit and the source of all those wondrous testosterone-laden juices. Her inexperienced tongue rolled over the straw-like hole in its eagerness.

“F-f-fuck! I’m coming, Trixie!”

Trixie sensed Filthy’s hips lifting off the couch, she saw those massive black testicles retracted upward, dragging up against his body. A huge pulse wracked up his shaft, throbbing it to an even more terrifyingly thick girth under her very hooves, and making his medial ring the size of a donut.

Then his head blossomed, becoming as large as a saucer plate, like a cobra rearing up and spreading its hood.

Trixie jerked back, frightened.

“Don’t move!” Spoiled snapped, gripping the back of Trixie’s head. “Keep your mouth open, you stupid little whorse.”

Trixie had no time to absorb the insult, as the first blast of white-hot glue-thick cum blasted out of Filthy’s flare.

“Mnnnghh!”

The first blast of batter was nearly two seconds long, more than enough to fill a mug with his steaming spunk. But this was pouring right into Trixie’s open mouth, splattering off the roof of her muzzle and out the sides, quickly overfilling her before the first shot was even done.

Cum.

Delicious, scrumptious cum.

If the musk and pre-cum had been intoxicating to her feminine biology, the spunk was something a full order of magnitude more powerful. Like comparing the addiction of sugar to the addiction of heroin.

Every cell of her sensitive female biology sensed and absorbed the presence of life-creating, alpha-stud seed, whirring her primal reproductive instincts into overdrive. Deep inside her gut, her ovaries shuddered and spasmed, letting loose an ovum… her respiratory rate and heartbeat increased, filling her muscles with energy… those same muscles twitched and fired, readying her body for the physical exertion of being bred.

And her tight teen fillyhood spasmed and clenched, squirting out a new deluge of lubricating spatter as her clit winked out in agony.

Her mind flooded with hormones and pleasure chemicals, her pupils wobbling and shifting into heart-shaped irises, as her frontal lobe shutdown and her primitive cortex took over, effectively enslaving the fertile filly to the raw virility of her stud.

Rope after rope of the steaming spray of Filthy’s thick seed slung out from him, coating her in thick lines that left obscene marks across her face, her mane, her chest. The precious flow dripped and dropped through her fur like a wet jelly, soaking her in Filthy’s stallion-ly stink.

“Raaggh!”

A roar came from Filthy, and he sat up, smearing his still shooting cock across Trixie’s face… sending a particularly ill-timed spurt onto her brow and making her flinch.

“That’s my darling,” Spoiled chuckled. “When other colts rest, he gets his second wind.”

Trixie could see it, the grimace in Filthy’s brow, the fierce growl. His muscles seemed to bulge and thicken with new strength, looming even larger than he had seemed only moments before.

He was like a whirlwind, leaping off the couch with the dexterity of a Wonderbolt athlete and the raw strength of a seasoned farmhand. His massive cock hung parallel to the floor, still sending off little spurts of clenching ejaculation as he scooped up his prey in his bulging arms.

Trixie was too stunned to react. This was not the stallion she had been sitting in front of moments before, not the kind but cocky wealthy employer with a hidden heart of gold. This was a stallion in rut, mad and frothing… with a burning need in his eyes.

He hoisted her under her armpits like a wet cat, as though she weighed no more than a feather. But he was not gentle. He unceremoniously tossed her into the couch, then sprung over the whole of the couch himself, landing behind the ornate sectional.

“Wh-wha…” Trixie’s cum filled mouth struggled to find words.

“Quiet.” Filthy grabbed her again, jerking her around so that her hind legs hung off the back of the couch and her shocked, love-stunned face looked forward toward a bemused Spoiled, still sitting on the floor in front of the cushions.

“I’m tired of all these damn games, you little minx.”

“D-darling… don’t break her. Remember the last one?” Spoiled warned, a hint of concern in her voice.

“We can get another,” He growled, leaning over Trixie’s back. His hooves spread her hanging legs, which couldn’t even reach the ground. He leaned in close and whispered into her ear with fierce, dangerous undertones. “I’m going to fuck you.”

Author's Note

Dang, Trixie learned quickly from her employer. That's one hell of a training program.

Working under your boss

Fear.

Excitement.

Arousal.

There was no way for Trixie to distinguish between the three powerful sensations… not in her current state. She was just a teenager! Only minutes before she had just a blushing, inexperienced filly… for whom the thought of romance, lascivious actions, or anything even resembling the like was something left for the giggling and tittering hallways of the girls locker at school… or for some imagined hunk at the senior prom.

And now, a steaming, snorting stud was mounting her.

And yet, that heady mix of adrenaline, fear, and arousal was so insistent… it burned so brightly in her psyche… it felt so… natural. Evolution had left its indelible mark on pony-kind, especially its mares. Celestia’s guiding hoof throughout the millennia had made sure that the drive to reproduce, to copulate, to breed and be bred would always stay as poignant in the magical oils of her subjects as it had been eons ago in their feral ancestors on the primordial Equus plains.

Her leaking, quivering teenage body was ready.

Submissive.

The pony who she referred to as her employer was about to become her lover. Her harem-master. Her stud.

The powerful strength of his muscles as they positioned her on the couch edge left her no question as to whether resistance would have any effect… even though resistance was the farthest thing from her addled mind.

She moaned, feeling her body lurch in its yearning for a stallion. Powerful contractions wracking her as her blue tail flagged up even harder, lifting the wet mop of sweat-laden tail hair high into the air, waggling with attention-drawing insistence to pull the eye of her stud toward her winking, squirting marehood.

The hard back of the couch dug into her hips as Filthy prepared her for a fitting, traditional pony-style mounting, but it left her hooves dangling inches off the hardwood floor, perhaps for the best - her body might not have been able to bear the weight of her stud on her back in its shaking state.

She heard the heavy clattering of hooves as Filthy lifted himself up onto his hind legs, heard the dull thumps on either side of her head as his forelegs landed on the couch next to her.

And then he was on her.

His whole bulk pressing against her slender unicorn back. His chest was so big, so heavy.

Yet it wasn’t uncomfortable. Not at all.

It was strangely comforting, like being smothered in a blanket, wrapped up in the hug of a loved one. She felt strangely at peace through the shaking haze of her excitement, completely at the whim of her new lover’s desires.

That’s when she felt it.

The hotter, wetter mass of a different sort, sandwiched between their two bodies.

His big, fat, stallion cock.

The rigid beast rested in the small of her back, tracing a ridiculously long path up the furrow of her spine. It felt almost like he reached up to just beneath her shoulder blades. For the first time it struck her just how terrifyingly testing this would be, for her to service a real stud like Mr. Rich, for her body to accept even a portion of his generous endowment.

But goddesses did she want to try. Her feminine instinct demanding the attempt be made, and more.

She needn’t have worried.

Her partner seemed to be just as much in rut as she was, and he certainly was beyond caring about the distinct difference in sizes and any challenges that might present. Filthy’s switch had also been flipped, and he was going to bury his magnificent sword into Trixie’s steaming teenage snatch, one way or another.

He snorted and stomped again, dragging back his huge phallus, as he tried to reposition himself for proper entry. Sliding the big slab of meat backwards left an obscene trail of creamy cum-stained blue fur in its wake, painting his teenage babysitters back as he dragged his slimy flare over her tight, athletic asscheeks, searching for his target.

The large flat heat of Filthy’s flare bumped over Trixie’s dock, involuntarily making her clench with unconscious apprehension as the saucer-plate-sized bellend bumped over her tailhole… a sight and feeling of pure and ridiculous impossibility… and yet it still made her quiver with the sensation of her delicate taboo-rosebud being prodded.

But Filthy had another target in mind, and he was not so foolish as to break his filly, in body and mind, perhaps irreparably, on their first encounter by attempting her tailhole.

That could come later.

No, he needed to breed this little one.

And so he slid further down, until their two boiling organs met.

Like the long-awaited embrace of two lovers at the end of a romance novel, their swollen, throbbing genitals kissed.

The huge, shining black dome of Filthy’s cock-head pressed into the pink opening of Trixie’s winking teenage fillyhood.

But it could not go far - the slender, vise-like opening into Trixie’s velvety depths had not been tried or tested, not even by a hooftip or a hairbrush. Trixie had always been a filly who preferred to play with her outer bits, and though the flesh was young, it could not part for such a huge invader so easily.

“Ah...ahhnnn!” Trixie’s head lifted up and stared forward as she felt that first desperate kiss, felt a stallion-tip inside her, felt anything inside her... for the very first time. So alien, so frightening… and yet so natural and right. A cacophony of paradoxical sensation.

But she could also feel the magnitude of her challenge. Could feel the burning spread of iron-hard flesh as the huge press of cock moved forward… began to grind its way into her nubile body, agonizingly parting the flower of her youth.

The strain hurt. But in a good way.

She wanted him in her, wanted it more than anything she’d wanted in her life. Perhaps she didn’t even know the meaning of want before this moment!

But her body could only yield so much.

Quickly, the large flat press of cock began to mash against her sex, mushrooming the rigid head against her lips, the edges of his knobby flare pushing against her outer-labia, even grazing her thigh with its obscene wideness.

“Mmmn… p-please…” She groaned, wriggling herself back against her new stud, doing anything she could to assist in cramming more cock into her body.

But this was a stallion’s job. And Filthy was more than equal to the task.

She heard the groaning squeak of horseshoe against wood as his powerful hinds dug into the floor and he pressed home, ratcheting up the force to terrifying levels. She felt his muscles roil and bulge on top of her as he tensed and focused, squeezing more and more against her. She heard the back of the couch creak as it bent, the force of their un-culminated penetration transmitted through her hips into the finely crafted furniture.

And her tight pink inner lips slowly parted, agonizing millimeter by millimeter, straining with their utmost to slowly roll out the sides of Filthy’s massive flare, like a foal-birth in reverse… an erotic flower of blue and pink petals blooming more and more.

She felt his cock begin to press into her exposed clitoris, mashing the poor nub up against the hood of its confines, compressing it through the sheer bulk of cockflesh pressing up into her. The sensation drove the breath from her lungs, leaving her a gasping mess of sensory overload.

And then he slipped in.

His huge head slipped in.

Into her.

Her tiny body, her most delicate opening… he was in her.

“F-f-fuuggnnhh!” A half-uttered invective died on Trixie’s lips and morphed into a delirious groan as her head swayed uneasily.

Her tight pink lips had slipped around his knobby flare, kissing up against the top part of his shaft, gripping Filthy with incredible tightness as it welcomed him to her grasping silken-tunnel.

He was in.

And now he was going to fuck her.

This didn’t seem possible. For the extent of her young life Trixie had never had anything inside her fillyhood. Those delicate, pink, twisting, walls had only known the feel of their like… the slender grip of the muscular sleeve entirely closed, shut to even the atmosphere of Equestria.

Now a huge, ramrod stiff shaft of fat cock was pressing into her… plowing her open, filling her abdominal cavity with masculine intrusion, stuffing her so full of stallionhood that she thought her body was going to burst.

Fold after fold of her carnal depths were stretched asunder… pink wrinkles of vaginal muscles grinding and sliding over each knob and vein of Filthy’s steel-hard erection, molding her insides to his shape as he plumbed deeper and deeper.

That first thrust seemed to go on forever.

Like a yew bow, screwed up with barely restrained pent up energy, when his head had finally slipped into her tight little flower, his length quickly sprung deep inside her, driven by the powerful hips and grip of the stallion’s hooves.

Inch after inch slid inward… millimeter after millimeter of black horseflesh sending her abused pussy lips on a bouncing, bumping, grinding adventure… smushing her exhausted clitoris against the bottom of his shaft and her fully strained lips as he went.

Only when he finally reached this medial ring, two-thirds of the way down his steaming ebony cock, did he finally pause. The fat donut of blood-engorged penis-meat simply could not enter her, not yet. The significant marker separated the relatively slender upper half of the earth pony’s tremendous cock from its rapidly thickening lower base… which quickly became girthier than even his cockhead.

Trixie mewled, spittle dripping from the side of her limp mouth.

Her mind was completely awash with pleasure-sensations. It was no longer the raw, unbelievable electric fire that had assailed her exterior nerves - her clitoris and her lips. Now that poignant, hot euphoria was matched with an equally intense wash of dark, boiling desire from deep inside her.

The feel of her inner-most nerves, hitherto untouched, unstimulated, bursting into life as she was completely speared, it made her rethink her very purpose. At her most foundational element, she was a mare.

And this pleasure was her only purpose.

The great, sucking vacuum of Filthy’s outstroke was almost as intense as his arrival. The stallion pulled himself back, drawing out the teenager’s tight depths, her velvet walls clinging to him in a desperate embrace, trying to hold him inside her.

Trixie writhed and groaned again, her hooftips kicking involuntarily at the air as her stud agonizingly pulled himself out of her. She could feel her puffy, swollen labia… so recently stuffed with overwhelming force inwards, now being pulled out… stretching like the skin of a pink balloon as their tight grasp held onto the invading shaft as long as they could.

And then, just as Trixie felt the fat bulge of Filthy’s cockhead bumping through her lower belly, pulling back close to the entrance of her disturbed, carnal gash… as the hoof-sized end began to spread her pussy-lips from the inside…

He reversed direction, slamming himself back forward.

Again Trixie felt the breath slammed out of her, felt the throbbing meat of insistent stallion-dick pressing against her diaphragm as it cleaved her, almost winding her as it drove home, deeper and with more force.

She wasn’t as stunned as the first penetration, and was now able to more clearly sense the heavenly satisfaction of that purpose-built probe grinding up her insides, of his bumpy cock vibrating her clit… but those increased senses didn’t allow for any coherent thoughts to form.

Her mind was stalled, frozen.

A computer program stuck in a recursive pleasure loop that mounted higher and higher with each passing moment.

The stud continued to pound his teenage broodfilly, the in and out action increasing in pace as he went. Each thrust slipping in a little faster, or aiming at a different angle, or pressing ever so slightly deeper against her quivering entrance, toying with the idea of pushing that fat ring of cockflesh into her body.

The pleasure logic loop continued, neurons firing faster and faster in Trixie’s cortex, each wave being overtaken by an even stronger one behind. Only dimly now could her weakened senses interpret the subtle changes in the intense fucking she was receiving...

Sound… Her ears, one pointed backward, one pointed upward in haphazard muscle confusion, twitched at the new sound of obscene squelching as her boss bucked inwards. She could also hear the strange groan-squeak of her own voice, timed to Filthy’s bucks. For his own part, Filthy made no noise - only the deep huff of his hot snorts as he powered his terrific physical exertion with great draws of oxygen.

Touch… Her inner-thighs felt the soaking trickle of a constant stream of her juices, pouring from her body as if she were a foal wetting herself. The hot blast of air against the nape of her neck from Filthy’s deep huffs made her realize just how alive he was, how real the gift of pure ecstasy her stallion was giving her.

Smell… The air was drenched with the reek of sex. The couch would never smell the same again. It was as if she were bathing in the musky stink of Filthy’s sack - and her own cinnamon odor mingled with his in the fog of the room - a coitus of their pheromones analogous to their own union… but deep within the olfactory steam was the barest hint of a different mare’s arousal, a floral umami.

Sight… Her vision was blurry and wavering, formless colors and dim shapes. Her heart-shaped pupils shuddering wider with the culmination of each pounding thrust from the stud fucking her. But suddenly, out of the haze...

Spoiled.

Trixie could only groan as the sweating, excited face of the prim matron slid forward, not hesitating or shy in any way as the pink muzzle parted and twisted, aligning it to plant a deep prench-kiss. The tongue which had given her so much pleasure before slid without hesitation into her gasping maw, choking off her oxygen and forcing her to wrestle it with her own in a losing battle, a vain attempt to draw air from Spoiled’s lungs.

But Spoiled didn’t care. Her long pink tongue easily overpowered Trixie’s, sliding down the back of the babysitter’s throat and slathering saliva down the blue-unicorn’s esophagus.

Her whole body shuddered, nerves winking and popping at the lack of oxygen and the sudden shock of a mare kissing her so deeply it felt like a tongue-fucking.

And she came.

Hard.

Blue-purple fireworks spattered around the room, singeing the white fabric of the irredeemably-soiled couch.

Trixie’s scream of terrified-pleasure was muted by Spoiled’s covering mouth, as both of the adult ponies fucking the teenager gripped harder against her wild, bucking motions.

Her dangling legs kicked and thrashed with each successive wave of oxytocin-heavy neurochemicals washing through her system, demanding more out of her exhausted muscles than her body could provide.

Trixie was lost in the thrashing sea of pleasure, in the feel of her pussy spasming, clenching and milking, spraying hot splatters of teen-pleasure-juice wildly… and slipping ever so slightly wider…

*POP*

Instantly Filthy’s medial ring slipped inside her. No other pony beside his wife had been able to take this alpha stud beyond the impossible limit, but Trixie’s erotic gate had strained, stretched, opened to receive the sublime gift of a real stud’s enormously girthy base.

The huge, log-thick lower third of Filthy’s cock slammed into Trixie.

Any sensation of discomfort was completely overwhelmed by the ongoing surge of her continuous orgasm - the huge bulge pressing out her lower-abdomen, the dangerous shifting of her organs to fit the powerfully-sized stallionhood inside her smaller skeletal structure, only added to the mind-melting sensation of being completely owned by her stud.

Only the dull thump of Filthy’s battering ram of a cockhead against the limit of her vagina, the wet impact of his throbbing flare against the clenched portal of her cervix, preventing Filthy from overcoming that final barrier and driving into her very uterus, into her womb. Only that struck a bell loud enough to make her jerk her head clear of Spoiled’s embrace, opening her mouth to take in a deep lungful of air

Still in the throes of her orgasm, Trixie’s head thrashed left and right, her whole body quivering amidst the overpowering feeling of being completely speared on a cock.

Filthy and Spoiled only shared a brief grin before they both returned to their meal.

Filthy’s hips quickly resumed their pace, as he pressed more weight down through his body onto the chaotic and uncontrollably thrashing teen underneath him. But she was no match for his bulk, nor his skill… not in her state of unending orgasmic convulsions…

And so he began to pound her.

They were deep thrusts that drew back to her entrance, before slamming in with a half-step and a jerk of his hips… sending nearly all of his length into her with each stroke. His fat, veiny base was stretching her so wide at the bottom of each cycling, hammer-like thrusts that his cock was touching the inside of her thighs, compressing all of her plot as it stretched to accommodate him.

*PLAP*

And with each strong hip-movement, a wet, meaty impact filled the room: his heavy, shotput-like balls were swinging forward and up to strike the filly’s sex, quickly becoming soaked with the unending stream of nectar drooling from her abused cunt.

“OhHnnHn…. f-Fuf… fuu… fu…”

*PLAP* *PLAP* *PLAP* *PLAP* *PLAP*

“Fuu… fu… F… F...” Trixie’s moans were entirely incoherent. Just random syllables formed by the passage of air over her vocal chords as some part of her brain misfired and attempted to make sounds equal to the mind-melting pleasure she was feeling.

*PLAP* *PLAP* *PLAP* *PLAP* *PLAP*

The teen’s eyes had already started to roll back in her head.

“Shut her up, would you sweetie?” Filthy growled through his teeth in between one of his heaving breaths.

Spoiled chuckled, then slipped forward, intending to take Trixie’s mouth in yet another kiss and let her husband enjoy his rutting of the babysitter with only the accompanying sounds of wet meaty flesh slaps…

But a small thrash of Trixie’s head at the last moment brought the teen’s horn slipping into Spoiled’s mouth instead.

…

All Tartarus exploded at once.

With all of the feral, dominated, overwhelmed teen-orgasm sensations flowing through her, no rational pony could have supposed that there was any way for her to receive even a scintilla more pleasure.

But a unicorn’s horn is special.

Very special.

Like a conduit to their cutie mark, a conduit to their soul. Touching it at the right moment could lead to a connection greater than the physical or the emotional… it was spiritual.

This was such a moment.

An explosion of magical energy cascaded out of Trixie’s body, lighting Spoiled’s closed muzzle with the light of energetic magical sparkles, as Trixie screamed aloud, powerfully enough to shake a priceless vase off the nearby coffee table.

Trixie’s eyes shot open, all of her awareness rushing back to her in an instant. Like somepony had switched a lightbulb on in her mind, letting her form thoughts and memories and retain awareness of everything around her.

And yet, the sensations that had been boiling her, had been melting her mind to mush intensified.

She was wracked by the insane pull of fear and anxiety, the tension between the delightfully cute awkward shyness of a virgin teen experiencing her first-time with an older, more experienced couple… and the feral, Celestia-given instinct to entirely submit to her biological imperatives, to be carried away on a wave of pleasure-hormones and be bred by her stud.

And now, a bubbling swirl of her soul was raging at her very core, deep within her womb. The connection between her horn and her womb was unlocking this spiritual orgasm… this ur-gasm…

A pleasure so complete, so total… one she could witness consciously, instinctually, and spiritually.

She wanted nothing.

She wanted everything.

Her whole being sparkled and cavorted… muscles, nerves, thoughts, and magic. The whole thaumic field around her shuddered and sparkled.

This was her purpose.

In this moment, she needed this. Needed every inch of pleasure she could drink in, though it was careening into her like a firehose. She drank it in from all sides, her magical horn absorbing and emitting, her mind calculating and melting… and her body receiving and giving… as she thrusts back with wild abandon and her rending cry reached a new octave.

“F-fu-fuuuuuUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCkKKKK!!!”

Through the thaumic fog of perception, she could feel her ovaries… could sense them, a vision of them releasing a payload in response to all of this raw experience as if her body and soul knew that it had to cooperate with destiny.

And then, just as she bucked backward, grinding her hips desperately into her stud, her cervix opened, just enough, with the aid of her magical essence...

And Filthy’s huge cockhead slipped inside of her womb, plowing all the way to the opposite wall in a moment as he fully hilted inside of his babysitter, his massive balls swinging up in a final swing.

“Ah… AHNNN!” Filthy’s groan came in perfect time with the final thrust.

A heavy throb pulsed up through Filthy’s already tremendous cock, bulging up his shaft as it raced toward his head, which flared and blossomed to a terrifying size once again.

All three ponies were slaves to their pleasures now. Stuck in agonic groans, orgasms, and thrusts… as Filthy began to cum.

To breed.

To fill his daughter’s new babysitter to the brim with his seed.

“Ah! AH! AHHH! AHH!” Trixie croaked out, each grunt coming as a powerful pulse of stallion spunk blasted into her, each one lasting a whole second and jetting out tremendous, cup-sized quantities of steaming batter into her womb.

Blast after blast splattered into her, soaking her very soul, churning up a hot, glue-like stew of Filthy’s spunk.

His huge flare was jammed into her uterus, plugging even a drop of the rich genetic material from escaping its fertile confines… which quickly began to show an external effect on the teen’s small belly.

“AHH… AHhnn… ahn… ah…”

Her abdomen began to grow, first just a little chubbiness around the already large bulge of Filthy’s fat stallioncock, just above her teenage-teats… but quickly expanding to a larger and more obscene size.

“Ah… mmm…. Mm…. y-yes…” Trixie whispered, coming down slowly from the nirvana of her climax, her dim awareness focusing in on the spurting stallion-hose inside her, still cumming nearly a full minute after they had all summited the highest peak.

She felt her belly ponching outward, more and more, now making her look fat… then like she was within the second trimester with foal… until finally, with a last nicker, she heard her stud’s hooves slip on the floor and all of his weight land on top of her… and his unconscious chin dropped hard enough on the top of her head that her eyes sparkled and rolled...

Whether it was the impact, or the exhaustion, a dark tunnel crept up the outskirts of her eyes, and the last thing Trixie saw before she passed into a sleep made all the deeper by the complete and total exertion of her very essence, by her massively stuffed womb… by her aching but entirely satisfied-body... was the grinning but magic-scorched face of Spoiled petting Trixie’s mane in comfort.

Author's Note

Woof.

Filthy just recked Trixie for every pony to come after (except for Bawdy Jot of course)...

Let me know if you liked the scene, did you think Trixie got sufficiently rewarded?

Ongoing working relationship

“Thanks again, Trixie,” Filthy blushed, as he walked the teen toward the door, early morning rays of sun already peeking through the windows. He’d been having trouble even meeting Trixie’s eye since she’d woken up that morning, in one of the guest bedrooms of the many-roomed mansion.

“Momma, how come Trixie stayed over last night?” Diamond Tiara asked, yawning from her bedroom door and looking curiously at her parents and new sitter as they stood in the entrance hall.

All three of the older ponies looked with concern at the young foal.

Spoiled found her tongue first, “Trixie was very tired last night, too tired to go home, so she… slept over.”

“Oh? I wish I’d known, she could have slept in my bed,” Diamond pouted, still rubbing her eyes.

Filthy smiled at his young daughter, as if slightly surprised at her reaction. “You like Trixie, sweetie?”

“Oh yeah! She’s lots of fun. I hope she can come back soon.”

Trixie blushed herself, trying to avoid thinking about the fun that the adults had the night prior. She zipped up her hoodie as a distraction from the foal’s cute wish. She was nowhere near as ‘bulged’ as she had been the night prior, but she still noted that her hoodie zipped up a little tighter around her waist… her bellybutton still seemed to be an ‘outie’ too… she hoped that would go back to normal.

“That’s nice, honey-bunny,” Filthy smiled. Then he slipped Trixie a bag of bits, a very large bag of bits. Much much larger than Trixie had thought of, even in her wildest dreams. “Your mother and I hope she can come back soon too…”

Trixie blushed heavily… then pushed the bag of bits in Filthy’s hoof away from herself.

Spoiled and Filthy stood stock still, a ripple coursing through both of them and making them both crestfallen.

Trixie looked up shyly at her employers, finding it difficult to meet their eyes without thinking of all the things they’d done to her the night before, all that raw sensation and pleasure. Even though both of them seemed able to wear stoic (if somewhat disappointed ) poker faces…

She swallowed, choosing her words carefully.

“I couldn’t possibly accept more bits than we’d agreed upon to watch over such a lovely little foal…” She smiled inwardly, seeing both parents perk up with renewed hope and anticipation. She turned toward Diamond Tiara, “...and I would love to come back to sit you, if your parents would have me,” The sultry look she shot Filthy managed to make the stallion stammer.

“Uh… I…”

Spoiled grinned and stepped in quickly. “This Tuesday?”

“Tuesday would be great.”

Author's Note

And that's the fic!

I hope you enjoyed this little story about Trixie during her babysitter days.

If you did, I ask you to please leave me a comment and throw me a like, the reason that I write is really for all of you and your feedback!

Thanks everyone!

The interview

It was a beautiful afternoon in Ponyville. Birds were chirping, the wind was rustling, and a happy din of clopping hooves on flagstones and friendly greetings of the townsfolk filled the warm spring air.

A lone unicorn trotted past the mostly empty town tree-library. There had been rumors circulating that it would be filled by appointment from the royals in Canterlot - but that had been a rumor which persisted for years now, and still, the dim windows were unlit and untended.

The twintail-maned unicorn glanced over at the tree with a capricious sigh. She had actually tried to get a part-time job there as the librarian herself - the pay mentioned in the job posting was absolutely ludicrous, enough to make a young teenager like her drool at the thought of how many bits she’d earn.

Trixie’s application had gone horribly. At least she’d gotten back a reply letter from whatever royal authority managed libraries, laughing at her lack of experience, education, and the audacity that she would even consider herself a potential assistant.

So it was back to the more typical grind for teenage fillies: babysitting.

It was a fairly easy gig, even if most of the town’s foals were pretty young. Trixie made sure to require a hefty surcharge if her babysitting session ended up requiring any diaper changes, and one of the first spells she’d made sure to learn involved completely contactless nappy-replacement.

Otherwise, it usually involved an evening of kicking back on her employer’s couch, opening up a comfortable book, or even tapping away on her magic touchpad and zoning out until the parents came home and rewarded her with a decently-sized sack of bits.

There were lots of new parents in the Ponyville town, and business was good. She’d already saved up about ten percent of the bits she needed to buy that luxurious blue cape and hat that she was convinced would take her burgeoning magic act to the next level.

The cape and hat she really wanted was on the cover of a rare-artifacts periodical that she’d pinned to her bedroom ceiling so she could see it every night before she went to sleep. It was spun with the finest of enchanted purple Saddle Arabian threads emblazoned with stars. The set had recently been designed by one of the archmages of the Royal Canterlot Society, and after a brief period of being on auction for charity, it would either find a buyer at a ridiculously high price, or would go into the archives as yet another high-powered artifact.

Trixie sighed to herself and shook her head, trying to clear it of the impossible dream of owning such a wonderful outfit.

But this was a new household. A new set of parents. And nopony at school had sat for them yet, except for Fertile Flower. And Ferty had only sat for them once, before suddenly leaving town mysteriously. Her family wouldn’t talk about it at all, only saying that Ferty had gone to live with her aunt in Manehattan, and wouldn’t be back for 11 months. None of the ponies she’d spoken to seemed to have any idea why this had happened so suddenly.

The Flower family had also mysteriously become quite wealthy after the event as well, adding on all sorts of new additions to their home. They’d claimed that they’d gotten a small inheritance from a recently deceased family member in Trottingham, which was perplexing because the Flower family had never mentioned having rich relatives before.

In any case, it had opened up a slot to babysit for a new family, and the process had been extremely competitive.

Trixie wasn’t the only teenaged filly looking to fill her saddlebags with bits, and the availability of a new client, particularly one as wealthy as Filthy Rich was suspected to be, caused a lot of mares to jump at the opportunity.

Unlike most other parents, the Riches had actually gone with an interview process, instead of simply taking the first filly who had applied. Stories quickly abounded of the tough grilling that applicants had received when they went in to be questioned. Apparently Mr. Rich was as pleasant as one could possibly be, but his wife was a ferocious interrogator.

Trixie had done her pre-work though, asking her friends what had been asked and what had seemed to disqualify them or upset Mrs. Rich. So she’d gone through the grilling knowing ahead of time how she should answer.

After a smiling introduction and a quick tour of their household by the affable Filthy, he’d excused himself to let his wife step in and begin the intense assault of questions.

Trixie grimaced to herself as she thought back to the barrage, even with her preparation she was still surprised at the first volley, as if she couldn’t believe the stories that her friends had told her were actually true.

...

“How much experience have you had?”

“Oh I’ve babysat for almost two ye-”

“No no no, how much sexual experience have you had?”

“Excuse me?”

…

But she’d quickly shook her head clear, remembering the answers from her friends that had disqualified them, and responding with the opposite answers, even if they were untrue. One of the things she knew was that any refusal to answer a question would instantly end the interview, and dash any hope of landing the lucrative contract from the Rich family.

It wasn’t completely transparent, however. Spoiled Rich was clever enough to sprinkle in plenty of more ‘standard’ questions. Even so, the ‘weird’ questions were easy to pick out, as Mrs. Rich’s ears would prick forward with attention every time she asked one of these special inquiries.

No, she’d never had a coltfriend. True, Trixie had little time for the drooling blockheads her age.

Yes, she had seen ‘naughty’ magazines. True, Trixie was no prude.

No, she’d never done any sexual acts with others. True, though she’d tried often enough to get laid, with spectacularly bad results.

Yes, sometimes she’d imagined what it might be like to kiss a mare. False, Trixie wasn’t a filly-fooler… but this had apparently disqualified a few of her friends.

No, she hadn’t gone through her first heat yet. Also false, Trixie had gone through the agonizing pain of the previous Spring and the annoying insatiable desire that it brought with it.

Yes, she was free from any blood or magic diseases. True, as far as Trixie knew. She had no idea where she could have picked them up.

Yes, she’d tried drugs before, and had an open mind. False, she hated the smell of whinny-weed. She found it kind of strange that Filthy wanted a babysitter likely to indulge around her foal, but that seemed to be what they were seeking from her discussion with friends.

At this, Spoiled had harrumphed and sat back.

Trixie wasn’t sure if she was happy or upset that she’d answered the questions correctly up until this point. The look on her face certainly suggested that she was at least conflicted about how well Trixie had done so far on her interrogation.

At this, Filthy smiled for the first time and leaned forward.

This was totally new ground for Trixie, none of her tipsters had made any note of Filthy actually asking any questions. This was virgin territory.

“So Ms. Lulamoon… can I call you Trixie?” He smiled, his voice warm and supportive, especially when contrasted with that of his wife’s.

Trixie smiled back and nodded. You can call me whatever you like, Mr. Rich. She hadn’t had much opportunity to get to know the stallion, but whenever she had he was always polite, friendly, and amiable. Stories flitted around town of just how much Filthy had done for the community and the local economy…

And he certainly wasn’t hard on a mare’s eyes either.

She had often overheard mares tittering to one another when Filthy would walk through town, never quite catching the full story but knowing that the giggling blushes that always accompanied him meant that he was considered quite the catch by the townsmares.

And now, up close, she could see why.

He had a lovely, chiseled jaw, a beautiful mane, and a rugged, stallion-ly physique.

He was a hunk.

“S-sure!”

“Great, well… Trixie... I just have a couple of questions…. Have you ever… played with yourself?”

Trixie felt the blood rush into her cheeks with a fury. If it were one of those old cartoons, she was sure that Filthy would be able to see steam blasting out of her ears as if her head was a kettle on the boil.

She nodded, resisting the impulse to pull her hoodie up over her head and cover her shame.

“Ah, and when you played with yourself… did you uh…” even Filth seemed to be getting infected by the embarrassment at this point, as he watched her squirming with total shame. A sharp elbow from his frowning wife was the only thing that got him to continue. “...did you ever put anything inside yourself?”

Those steam geysers would now be whistling.

Trixie’s ears flattened back against her head and her hooves actually went up her sides to grip the drawstrings of her hoodie, just barely resisting the impulse to grab her hood and bury herself in it. It was so much more embarrassing to have these kind of personal questions asked by a gorgeous stallion than the grouchy mare sitting across from her.

She didn’t know why she couldn’t just shout, take offense and leave. Something about the way that Spoiled had rattled off the questions with such venom and perfunctory demand offset the kind, bashful, gentle hearted question by Mr. Rich.

That and she didn’t want to lose this opportunity either.

She summed up all of her courage and mumbled the answer.

The true answer.

“Y-yes.”

Author's Note

Oh boy, Trixie is so cute when she's mumbling and bumbling.

She seems like she's really got the hots for Mr. Rich, too... a handsome young new father...

I wonder what the answer is going to be.