Author's Note
Arctic is bound in Mistress Shy's dungeon for some fun but something goes awry as the machine keeps backing up, inflating his nuts more and more...and more...
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Swollen and Needy
Swollen and Needy
Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)
Commissioned by anonymous
Arctic grunted and heaved, Fluttershy standing before him in the dungeon, which resided under her cottage. That was something that not many knew about but he frequently found himself, considering his place as her pony-pet. Sometimes he even slept down there in a cage when he had displeased her or when she was ensuring that a new facet of his training particularly stuck, although a mistress did not need a reason to do anything, truly, with her pet.
Yet she was not punishing him at that time as he hung there in the middle of the room, manacles around all four of his fetlocks and a leather band around his midriff too to ensure that the pressure was evenly spread around his body while he could not touch the floor with his hooves. His pale coat took on a crimson gleam from the hue of the tasteful lighting she’d set up down there – for her pleasure, of course – and he groaned into the ball gag as he drooled thickly around it.
To be suspended like that was one of the most humiliating things he’d ever been subjected to, feeling as if he was in the midst of flight and yet not too, at the same time. It didn’t make sense to his body, wings lashed down crudely to his body, not even in a binder that time, but his body was just there for Mistress Shy to do with as she pleased, whatever that was.
His mane, strangely so, was plaited up in a long, running, feminine plait that ran all the way down his neck to his withers, a thick, foal-ish braid hanging down in the middle of his forehead, constantly swinging into one of his eyes or the other. It was another annoyance that he had to deal with as his mistress smirked before him, knowing well and truly the control she held over him and his body, as if there had ever been any doubt about it.
To add insult to trembling, erotic injury, his backside ached from the lash of her whip, although that had not been borne through out of any kind of punishment but because she had wanted to edge him over and over. Arctic shuddered even then, pressing his tongue up to the gag and looking at her with his best, pitying eyes, as wide and as plaintive as he could make them, just as she liked them. He hadn’t even known that it was possible to cum just from the strike of a whip but, well, Fluttershy had shown him that she could both make him do just that and hold him back from it just for her pleasure.
“Now, pet...”
She smirked, tapping the ring around the base of his cock, which, as always, was hard and ready, swollen against the magically-infused device that would stop him from climaxing. He’d upgraded past the regular ones that ponies could wear for fetish enjoyment in recent weeks, though that had been something that Twilight Sparkle surely had never expected that she would be asked to enchant.
“You stay right here while I have Rainbow Dash and Rarity over for tea,” she said, explaining it to him as she would, well, a pet, though they answered her back more often than other ponies. “I shan’t be long... Well, you won’t know whether I’ll be long or not now, will you, pet?”
Of course, she could leave him there for as long as she needed, however long she needed, just for her enjoyment. It was her right as his mistress and all he could do was squirm and whimper weakly, begging with his eyes in just the way that he always hoped may very well just have tugged at her heartstrings even if it had never worked before. He wanted it to work but didn’t at the same time, some deep and dark part of his submissive psyche revelling in it, twisting and turning, the tightness of his bondage pushing in on him, constrictive and, in a strange way, wonderfully so.
“I’ll want a good load from you, however, pet, when I come back. Do you think you can do that for me?”
He pressed his tongue up to the smooth, slick, roundness of the ball gag, though he could not tell her what he really thought, not even if he was without the gag. He didn’t like it being there, straining his jaws too wide, one of the biggest ones that she had for him. Perhaps it was used so often because she knew that it strained his jaws, that it left him with an ache and a reminder of what she had done to him, tail twitching, body aching, the relaxation from his tongue not even getting to tease down the lines of muscle and fascia in his body. Yet he was not there as he dangled, lowered just enough so that the very tips of his hooves touched the floor, hooked to the chains and yet tantalised with the thought that he could once again support his weight.
Cranking the lever that controlled the chains dangling him from the ceiling, his mistress huffed shortly and smiled.
“Now for this...”
He squirmed but there was nothing he could do to stop her from sliding the suction cup over his cock and fastening it in place, the tight rubber neck of it closing behind the head of his shaft to ensure that it could not slip off once the suction had been engaged. It had been custom made for him and so easily stayed in place until Fluttershy switched it on, drawing a thin trickle of pre-cum from him as he moaned into the gag, wings trembling, trying to stretch out where they were bound. His mistress smirked and patted him on the head, her cheery, white smile not telling him in any way that he was going to get out of that one anytime soon.
He shivered. He hated how much he liked that and loved it at the same time.
“Be good now, pet... I want a nice, big load from you.”
With that, she turned on her tail and sashayed the long, pink strands from the dungeon, the clip-clop of her hooves on the wooden, basement staircase oddly ominous even as she left. For it was not sometimes the approach of a mistress that was the most terrifying thing but her leaving, Arctic remaining tight and squirming, moaning, his tail hiked up where it was forced to expose the tight bud of his tail hole. That had not been penetrated for a while and he was surprised that she had not taken advantage of that part of him too, although he knew too that she liked to see him squirm when she was putting him through the ultimate humiliation and something that not even he liked to do for her. He only “let” her penetrate him under his tail with toys and the like because it pleased his mistress, for it was never something that he could have chosen to do if he had been left at all to his own devices.
Everything seemed tighter in the absence of her, left in a pool of crimson, the red light glancing off his coat as if to highlight every edge and curve of him. He moaned and rolled his head, the pulsing suck of the milking machine working at drawing his cum from him, although it didn’t seem to be working as quickly as usual. The force and pressure of it rippled down his cock, even though it was not meant to give him an overdose of pleasure, drawing a moan from his lips that, as with so much, was muffled at best.
Yet something was wrong and Fluttershy was gone and it took Arctic longer, twisting and grunting and moaning, rocking his hindquarters, than he was proud to admit that a mistake had been made. Of course, he had never been in any kind of position to tell his mistress that something had gone wrong but the tight ring locked around the base of his member was still in place. That could have been innocuous under any circumstances but the pressure increased, his cock throbbing and trying to swell, need rising, pumping through him in such a way that it was simply not possible to ignore.
He needed to cum, following the will and training of his mistress and the drive of the pump, but the ring forbade it, the pegasus whimpering and humping, tail flicking, wanting so very much more. Yet it was not the stallion’s to claim, just a helpless pony pet moaning and tonguing the gag, desperately trying to get it off. His heart pounded, knowing that he had to obey the will of his mistress too, that she wanted to see the tank that was conveniently placed right before his muzzle to be filled by the time she returned. It had been set on a slower speed than usual but that didn’t mean anything at all to him as he groaned and tried to twist, the chains squeaking and creaking where he had not oiled them properly last time she had had him service the toys and tools in the dungeon.
Yet the ripples of pleasure tried so very desperately and sweetly to coax his cum from him, the need of it all tingling through in a way that he both understood and didn’t at the same time. It was right and it was wrong and he had to try to please her, his training locking in at the worst possible moment. His heart pounded desperately, lungs tight, nostrils fluttering, puckering and flaring from one to the other. His mistress wanted his cum! What was going to happen if he did not give her what she wanted? Arctic shuddered at the thought of yet another punishment, for he had not done as good a job as her pet of late as he could have, his hide stinging in memory of so many welts and bruises, marks that never truly faded from his soul.
His orgasm was coming and yet the ring would not let it forth as he balanced on the very tips of his hooves, straining for purchase with a fervent grunt and heave of his body that got him nowhere at all. His tail twitched at the cuff around the base but there was no getting free of it, something that was both terrifying and intensely erotica in the same moment. Things like that to a pony-pet, however, didn’t have to make sense, caught up in the red spotlight she’d set out for his failed milking humiliation.
Closer... Oh, could he do it for her if only he tried hard enough? He tongued the gag, building his resolve, trying to find a way to cum through even that strain, the pulsing pressure. The ring could have brought pleasure if only it had been left a little bit looser but that was the extent of what he could hope to get there, for his mistress had wanted to make sure, earlier, that he had not made a mess after taking some seed from him, supposedly for one of Zecora’s positions. Back then, he’d only been concerned that it was a potion that Mistress Shy was going to make him drink at some point: just another humiliation to shape him and his body to her will and force more of his seed down into the yawning, bottomless pit of his belly.
Orgasm flushed through him, though it felt quite as if it was happening in slow-motion, everything dragging around him, clawing at his skin, holding it back, holding him back. His tail tensed and the muscles in his abdomen visibly tensed as he tried to thrust, tried to force it out, tried to both get that pleasure for himself and do as his mistress wanted. For that was the most important thing of all as his nuts ached and his body tried to force out his cum at all costs, even if there simply was nowhere for it to go.
There was nothing for it. As much as his body wanted to cum, the ring at the base of his thick, fleshy cock forced it back instantly into his nuts, the bulbous swell of them growing more, perhaps a little on the light side when he’d been locked into the milking machine. A cock-milker like that should have been the easiest thing to get a load from him but the conflicting contraptions worked against one another, the steady, pulsing pace of the suction and the milker not breaking in stride. It didn’t know that his cum was not being pulled from him and only continue as it had been switched to that setting, the ring tight, too tight, forcing his seed back up into his aching, bloating nuts.
Once. That was the kicking point, the turning point, the floodgates both opened and closed at the same time. He had to keep going, had to keep pushing on, yet his balls ached and swelled, pulsing and churning, his body wanting to do all that it was being asked to do and yet had the ability to obey stripped from him too easily and not sweetly at all. His body yearned to obey, locked into every last sense of his being, yet it was not to be, not even the slightest bit, as he was forced into a second climax that was not really a climax, the rush of pleasure tight and strained, backing up as his nuts ached and filled up far, far too much.
He didn’t realise that she was back, not at first, not with orgasm after orgasm bloating up his balls, his body straining and working furiously to refill what it had believed to be lost, even if it was not so. His body did not know that it did not need to replenish his balls and one orgasm doubled the load that would have been replenished, panting and snorting, his nostrils wet and drool splattering from around the hefty strain of the ball gag. He didn’t know she was there though under a hoof touched his neck – not gently.
“Oh, pet...”
His eyes opened. He was saved! Well, maybe not saved but she would see that things hadn’t gone quite right, she’d fix it, she’d do something about it. That was all he could hope for at that stage as his nuts ached and churned, filled with too much cum and sagging down, twice the size that they usually were. The neck of skin that connected his balls to his body was stretched and strained too, the weight of his seed simply too much for them as it backed up inside his nuts again and again.
His mistress, however, stood before him with a frown, shaking her head. A strand of her pink mane fell over her eyes and he tried to focus on that strand to the exclusion of all else, focusing in, zeroing in, cutting out the harshness of need trembling through his overheated body.
“This won’t do, pet, did I not turn the settings up? Your balls are full...”
She mused and muttered to herself as he thrashed weakly and wriggled and tried to tell her without words that something was wrong. It wasn’t right and she needed to see that but whether she didn’t see or was ignoring the cock-ring was something else entirely, her needy pet strung up for her amusement.
Shaking her head, she pursed her lips and merely turned up the suction on the milking machine after checking that it was running correctly. He squirmed and flexed his hindquarters but she took it to mean, simply, that the machine was doing its job, at last, leaving him to it with a hum on her lips. The dungeon door closed after her but Arctic knew better than to make too much noise down there, as much as the urgent pressure was building all over again.
Yet his nuts were quicker to ache, the pulse and churn rising through him, trying to round his hindquarters and grind into the suction cup, though it moved with him rather than allowing him to slide any deeper at all into anything. He was lost, hopelessly so, his groans rising, even managing to resound through the gag as he drooled and drooled. He twisted his head and pressed on it so desperately, teeth digging in, that the straps, which were well-used and well-worn, weakened. He could not be sure whether, once again, that was something that Mistress Shy had orchestrated deliberately but it surprised even him as it popped out with the rush of yet another orgasm, the base of his cock feeling hot and tight and swollen even as the ring prevented him from grinding on even more.
Pleasure? What was that? He howled and cried as the gag dangled and knocked against the side of his muzzle, unable to stop himself from twisting back and forth. It was too much, all too much, his nuts sagging heavily with another climax and another, his lust rising even if there was no true way for him to expend it. He wanted it, moaning out loud as his balls touched the ground, flattening out where they pressed down under their own weight. For all his bondage and the submissive leanings of being her pet, it would have been impossible for Arctic to hide in any way how much he loved inflating, his skin blowing up, stretching to contain a massive load of his cum, water, air, milk...anything, really. It didn’t matter just what was forcing him to expand, only that he did, only that he got bigger and bigger, need rising as he howled out and thrashed through another orgasm so violent and deliciously vicious that he could not stop his cries from resounding.
“If you insist on being so noisy, pet...”
There was a veiled threat hidden in what she did not say there and Arctic whimpered, hanging his head, though he had no hope in himself of showing her what was wrong, what he needed. She was only there to strap on an e-stim kit around his cock as she muttered about him disturbing her tea party, that she didn’t understand why he wasn’t getting off when she had the machine up to such a high setting. He was not even surprised anymore that he had not heard her approach but it didn’t matter when he was only there for her release, the bursts of electricity flowing into his shaft having him howling and trying to stomp right off the bat.
Of course, with the empty container and his massively overfilled balls, she thought that he was so noisy because he could not cum, though there was a limit to his breath too and a burst of sudden pleasure, tingles zinging through him, told him, faintly, that there was something more to the e-stim than met the eye. The bands around his cock, perhaps, should have drawn her attention to what was causing the problem but there was something there she chose to ignore, letting the equipment forcing him to a high all over again, though it was stripped away in the backflow of cum washing into his nuts.
Bigger and bigger. He could not fail to cum over and over again with the electric sparks tingling through him, though it did not feel as strong as it usually did, perhaps because there was so much else going on at the same time. It was hard to pick out any single detail from the mix of his nuts throbbing, his hindquarters aching, his body straining against the chains holding him up and the straps of his bondage as the weight of his bloating balls dragged him down and down and down. They grew at such a rate that, with his head hanging, he could practically see them pumping up more and more with every second that passed, throbbing and aching, though there was only one thing that they could do. Not a drop of cum escaped the head of his cock, woefully dry and a little sore as the suction increased, the pulsing draw of it insistent and yet woefully inadequate. He squeezed his eyes closed, breathing shortly and harshly. With the ring around his cock, it wouldn’t, couldn’t, do the job it needed to.
Fluttershy appeared again as his balls squashed out on the floor, the size of a bean bag that a pony may have flopped on to relax and just as soft. She clicked her tongue disapprovingly against the roof of her mouth, taking the gag away, though his cries should have come to words as he tried to thrust into another orgasm that failed instantly and sent his seed churning back into his nuts, back where, under other circumstances, she might have said it belonged.
“Pet, I don’t see what the problem is here... You love the milking machine.”
Of course, that was something that she said and he nodded along with to please his mistress at other times, even though it was, in part, true. It usually gave him something of a climax even though it usually ended up with his balls being completely and utterly drained, not that that was usually so very much of a bad thing. It was a relief, sometimes, to be drained, yet backing up increased the pressure in his huge balls, squishing out to either side of his body as they filled the space between his stomach and the floor, flooding as if they could not be restrained for even a moment longer.
Fluttershy was disappointed in him though, even if he knew that she would find out just what had caused so much of a problem later, working his jaw. Yet as much as he worked his jaw and pushed his tongue desperately over his lips, his mouth was too dry to speak, throat tight, need coursing through him so powerfully that it took even the power of speech from him. It was humiliating and exhilaratingly exotic at the same time, a pulsing drive of fervent need that he could not contain. And neither was he meant to contain it, as a submissive stallion, for that was something that his mistress could take care of for him, giving himself over to her will completely and utterly in the most carnal of ways.
She was all he needed and yet he knew it was coming as something slick and well-lubricated pushed up under his tail. The pony-pet was not ready for it and grunted thickly in the back of his throat as she penetrated him, the large dildo fitted with all manner of settings, he was sure, to stimulate him from that end too. She knew best, or in that case thought she knew best, and there were other ways to ramp up his pleasure than a milking machine that she was quite sure by that point simply was faulty. There could be no other way, surely, for Arctic to not climax with so much going on, even though the pony in question was doing his very best to reach that throbbing high with all his might.
“There, pet...”
He tensed around it, the throb of dull, old pain rising along with memories that he’d rather not revisit. It was hard to take something up his tail hole but, despite his predicament, lips moving without any words coming out, he knew that he had to bear through it for his mistress. With Mistress Shy, he was safe and he would always be safe: she would keep him safe. And that was just why he pushed through even the most humiliating of things, all for her, all for her pleasure and her love and lust of him.
The pain, after all, was quick to fade.
She left and it was only a few minutes later that the fat length of dildo, smoothly shaped, burst to life in his tail-star, thrust deep and locked in by a strap that went around his tail and locked it to the rest of his bondage. There was no getting the toy out as she controlled the vibrations from a remote control upstairs, although he could only be thankful, in the moment, that she had not fitted him with an e-stim one there too. Having that on his cock and up under his tail may well have been too much even for an eager to please pony-pet like him, though Arctic could only hope that, somehow, his mistress would show mercy on him.
Breath raked harshly down his windpipe though the possibility of relieving any of the tension within his body, of course, was a false hope by far. That was not for him, only for her, and he was in such a position that all his mind could lock onto was the need to cum, how much the desire to do so burned through him. The climaxes he had were not true ones, promising pleasure with the building to a high, although there was pleasure too, arching into pain and soreness where his body tried to do something that it simply, right then, was not being permitted to do. Some said there was a pleasure to be had in failed orgasms too but Arctic was not in that camp, panting and wheezing and heaving out moan after moan as his balls grumbled up and up in size, climax backing up in his nuts repeatedly.
She should have realised but he was hardly in tune with that as he clenched down inadvertently around the toy in his backside, some strange part of him revelling in that tiny bit of control. It was strange how things like that sometimes rose deliriously to the surface but it was something that he could still do and he relished in it. It was tighter and came with a curious burst of pleasure up against that sensitive patch in his backdoor entrance, but he had learned, over time, to take what he could from that too, doing all he could, what he could, to bear through worse training sessions. Mistress Shy, after all, had put him through so much and it was a testament to his skill as her pony-pet that he was able to do all that he did for her, whimpering and moaning, tongue pushing out, thinking of her, only her.
And Mistress Shy wanted him to cum, the strain of his nuts bulging out and out finally lifting even his lightly dangling form higher. There should have been no question at that point that there was something wrong but it was not Fluttershy that came back down the stairs to see what was going on for him but Rarity, the unicorn humming a tune to herself as she carried down a potion in the blue aura of her magic.
“Oh, darling, you really are swollen down here, aren’t you?”
She was sympathetic on the surface as he panted and tried to get his breath back. Rarity had an eye for detail – maybe she would see? Alas, the ring that stopped him from cumming was small and dainty and tasteful and perhaps something that she thought was only on him for the purposes of decoration, for it passed by her notice too. The potion, however, was tipped up to his lips and, remembering the lash of Rarity’s whip last time Fluttershy had hired him out to her (no pay for a friend!) in the boutique, he let her pour it down his throat. The bubbles tickled but it was still nowhere near enough to soothe the rawness of his throat, something that his mistress would have to take care of later for him. As much as he tried to gargle and force out words that would make some kind of sense, all he had was ragged, raw cries and grunts, head twisting back and forth as the potion tingled through him.
“There, darling...”
Rarity was not unkind as she patted his neck gently, eyes twinkling, her dark purple mane and tail, of course, as flawless as they always were. There was nothing that Rarity did not do well and even the touch of her hoof running down his body made him shudder like nothing that day ever had, balls aching, churning, plumping up so much that she could not even stand in close to his hindquarters. His legs stuck out behind him, forced out on top of his nuts, and Rarity giggled at the size of him.
“With a little more sensitivity to play with, Arctic, you’ll be filling that tank in no time, don’t you worry.”
He’d wondered before if Fluttershy had told others not to call him “pet” (he was hers and hers alone, after all), though “slave” had been used in the past, along with far more derogatory terms. It was something to lean into, something to focus on as his skin tingled, the e-stim device wrapped around his cock sending another burst of electricity into a shaft that was so swollen and engorged that his sensitivity, ramped up, should have astounded him. But the whole point of the play was to make him so needy that he simply could not hold back for a moment longer, filling the tank ready for him and more even if they did not yet know that he could do what they wanted him to.
Rarity left after making quite sure that the toy under his tail was wedged in there, though his skin prickled and tingled, not knowing what was happening. If he’d thought it was hard to focus on one thing before, it was even worse after her departure and that potion, every nerve-ending on his body waiting in eager anticipation for what was to come next. And he just didn’t know what to do as his over-sensitive body rocked back and forth, balancing just about on his front hooves as the balance of his body was tipped off, hind end up in the air. His balls were hard to judge the size of, straining to twist his head around on a neck that was tense and sore, but the bulge and shift of them was far from stable, rocking his hindquarters as if he was on a water bed or something equally soft and squishy.
But he was too sensitive to not lean into it, to try to force himself on at all costs, even imagining that he was cumming for a moment, the sweet rush of orgasm and cum flowing through him, even though it was not to be. His nuts ached and bulged, straining at the seams, the skin that kept them together, yet they would swell and swell, hold far more than even his lust-addled mind thought they could. The potion was wicked, particularly so, gripping his mind and forcing his attention right where his mistress wanted it to be. Perhaps all of it would have been easier to bear through if he was not grunting and straining the whole time, desperate to do her bidding and yet woefully knowing just that he simply would not be able to, no matter what he did.
It was not a delicious conundrum but the pleasure and rise of strain in his body swept that from his mind. He could not be torn up by the thought that he could not please her when he wanted to please her so bad, cock throbbing, the tip even daring to flare slightly within the suction cup as if it thought that he was on the edge of orgasm. It was brutal and cutthroat and something that he would never have voluntarily chosen to go into but he panted heavily all the same, flanks shuddering with breath, the paleness of his coat darkening with sweat even though the basement was perfectly cool. Fluttershy kept it cool just in case things heated up quickly in there, especially considering she had been more interested in trying out wax play on him of late too.
The pony twisted and rocked, his hind end pushed up more and more with each subsequent orgasm that was not an orgasm, nuts aching, his muscles sore, tail flagging helplessly as if he wanted more. He could have done anything, taken everything, all to get that elusive high, though his balls swelling all the more wantonly just made him want to cum even more than he already did. It was a vicious cycle that twisted Arctic up in its wrath as he moaned out loud, whimpering and whining, trying to force out cry after cry if only to soothe just a little bit of the tension from his soul.
The e-stim device seemed to grow hotter but he could not trust even his brain anymore to decipher the influx of sensation, throbbing and pulsing, driving him to squeal and try to kick out. His hind legs pulled at his bonds, though the cuffs were chained to the floor, creaking and straining, pulling back as he pumped higher and higher, his balls inflating smoothly as if he was being pumped full of air. He didn’t want to think of how larger they were as the chains threatened to break, even as strong as they were, thoughts swirling around his head, as clouded and as foggy as it was, of how angry his mistress would be with him if he broke those chains. Yet it wouldn’t be his fault and every last bit his fault, confusion rife within him as his lust consumed him.
Just to cum, oh... Oh, that was all he needed, everything he needed and more. His cock pulsed and he felt every, delicious throb of it in stringent detail as if his mind was locking onto it, though even that was out of his control. The chains rattled and clanked as they pulled up from the floor and those above him loosened, no longer dangling but balancing on his balls, his nuts big enough and soft enough that they could more than easily take the full weight of him. It was a blessing and a curse all wrapped up together, the twisted times and lies of who he was becoming something else entirely under the dominant hoof of his mistress.
Did she know what was happening to him, up there? He groaned, eyes closed, though he could not stop himself from panting, trying to roll his hindquarters back and forward to thrust at the same time, a vicious conundrum to find himself in. Did she know? Had she done it deliberately? Oh, there was no way to tell and it didn’t matter anyway because the will of his mistress was the law and he would have to bear through it, all the same, every tiny little bit of his being caught up in trying to please her, to cum for her. She’d wanted him to cum, to fill the tank over and over for her until his nuts were empty and drained, yet he could not even do that as he tried to stomp, wings straining at their bondage. There was to be no release for him.
Bursts of sensation caught his attention, somepony clearly playing with the remotes for the devices that had been shoved into and strapped onto him. They toyed between the e-stim band and the vibrator dildo under his tail, which could be cycled through different settings or even set to vibrate constantly, the dull pressure building and building. He jerked and jolted from even the light touches of electricity stimulating his cock, for it felt like far, far more than it was in that moment, every inch of his body on fire with need, craving what his mistress wanted from him too even if he was unable to give it to her.
Would he be punished for not pleasing her? Arctic did not doubt that but it was not something that he could expend much energy lingering on as he moaned, tongue pushing over his lips. His mouth was dry, too dry, his cries hoarse and raspy, trying to nicker, to call out to her, to tell his mistress that something was wrong. It may have been right, as far as he was concerned, but he didn’t know that as he twisted his head back and forth, filling more and more of the dungeon as a polished, wooden bench behind him scraped across the floor with a dull, bumpy grind.
It could have been a smooth push, perhaps, if the floor was slick but the bench was on a section of the dungeon floor that was poured latex, gleaming invitingly but with plenty of grip. It was something that his mistress was experimenting with, although he thought that she would remain more partial to the clop of her hooves striking the hard wood or even the hard, unyielding, cold concrete that she’d had beforehand. There was something ominous about that and that made him shiver even then, his sticky, damp coat prickling with a cold sweat, head twisting back.
He needed it, needed to cum, another load flowing back into his aching, pounding nuts, although it was impossible to distinguish and discern one orgasm from another by that time. Everything was a rush of odd pleasure that did not reach a true high, skin strained and bulging, forced to accommodate a load of cum that was by no means something that any pony could have naturally taken. He didn’t know why, exactly, he could bloat up so much and inflate for the pleasure of others but it was not something, strictly, for him to know when there was so much that it allowed Mistress Shy to do with him.
“Oh, she said you must have filled the tank by now... What’s wrong with this?”
He barely even recognised Rainbow Dash in the splashed crimson light, the bench shoved back behind him to the wall as the dildos lining it toppled to the ground, each making a different sound as they landed: silicone, wood, glass, latex. There was even a mould for ice dildos there but that was one of his least favourites of all, something that made his tail-star ache fiercely, a chill like no other reaching deep inside him. The athletic mare whistled as if impressed at his size, a stray, blue feather fluttering free of her wings as she eyed up the milking machine as if she was perhaps a little more familiar with it than she cared to let on.
“It should have worked...”
She wasn’t talking to him, of course, for Arctic was nothing more than an object to the mares that played with him, toyed with him, sometimes forgetting that there was a real pony behind his submissive, subservient demeanour. Rainbow Dash swore as she fiddled with the machine, leaning into his balls for some sort of leverage as she tried to “get it to work”. He grunted at the pressure but it was such a small amount in comparison to everything else that it was insignificant at best there.
“Maybe if I turn this up... Jeez, Fluttershy only had this on halfway. What gives?”
Pushing her rainbow-slashed forelock out of her face, Rainbow Dash gave him a daring wink as if what she was about to do to him was a challenge that she might have liked to take on herself, solely for the thrill of saying that she’d “won”. Yet the dominant mare too would never know the ache of being swollen, for it was her also that took advantage of poor stallions just like Arctic, taking charge and taking the lead so very easily that it would have been a crime for her not to be a top. The pressure suctioning his cum, supposedly, from his cock increased, the pulsing beats driving on, and he cried out, shuddering, Rainbow Dash stepping back as a tiny stream of pre-cum, lingering in the cum-tube of his cock, was drawn forth. Maybe it was his body just trying to let her know that it was working, that he would be able to push through it all for some, final, sense of relief, or something else entirely.
Arctic didn’t know. He didn’t have to know.
Other mares came and went, though it was the wicked Pinkie Pie, bouncing in devious glee, that hooked up the second full tank of his cum to the machines, for it did not only have to be one ready and waiting for him. She chirped something about Fluttershy wanting to make sure there were enough tanks down there to take his load but maybe she’d gotten the wrong end of the stick there as she’d hooked up a full tank and not one that was empty.
He groaned, it didn’t make sense, none of it made sense. If they were all against him though, acting the part of fools just to see him grow larger and larger, they were doing a good job of it though, their feigned innocence convincing even Arctic in his delirious state of reverberating lust. Bigger and bigger and bigger... There was only one way for his balls to swell and that was pushing him up and up so that he may as well have been dangling dead-centre in the room, for how well he was positioned there. His tail flagged helplessly but no manner of submissive behaviour was about to save him from his ultimate fate, crying out the name of his mistress over and over again, however hoarse his voice was.
Yet she could not hear him or, if she did hear him, she was not coming to stop the reverse of what she’d wanted happening. He didn’t even know how to judge the size of his balls anymore, only that the weight of his body no longer seemed to have as much of an impact on them than it had prior, the squashy nature of them reducing is the skin pulled smoothly taut, ballooning out with a ridiculous volume of cum. For a moment, he cursed the abilities of his body to keep regenerating seed so quickly, for it was more often his downfall than his pride, something that he could linger in and moan out his lust for in lighter, softer times. He had to be about six feet up in the air, however, the chains on his forelegs giving up too as he was left only tied into his suspension bondage, “floating” on his nuts as he dangled forward from them.
They grew and grew, knowing no end nor any limit to the expansion they could acquire. The pipes connecting his cock to the tanks shuddered and juddered and he thought, for a moment, that they would break apart and shut off – offer him some relief from the futile, impossible swelling. Of course, that was not to be as he merely seemed to have triggered the “reverse switch” on the tanks, something that Fluttershy had had implemented by a custom machinist after he had been left hooked up for so many hours that the machine had tried to milk him dry even after he was dry. That was a pain that he hadn’t wanted to experience again and it wasn’t up her alley of pleasure either, so the milking machine would switch back to filling him after a point, ensuring that he would not endure any damage or harm from having his nuts drained.
Yet it was wrong, so very wrong. His nuts were not drained but larger than his lust-addled mind could imagine them being, swaying and wobbling on top of them as his legs stuck out in all directions, spread-eagled in midair. Still, he could not rip his wings free of their bondage but he should have expected that at least a little bit as he wriggled there, panting pathetically, his tail appearing tiny in contrast to the bulge of his balls. Cum churned inside as his climax constantly backed up in there, forcing them up another notch, pushing him higher, the ceiling all too quickly approaching. Arctic trembled. What would happen when he was too big for the room? There was no mistress there to shut off the machine for him that time as the slick coolness of his semen, kept fresh for such a time and use, poured down his cock, allowing him to feel every last bit of it as it eased right up back into his balls, filling them, adding to the fresh and warming to the luxurious heat of his body. A body that was no longer under his control but was something to be used and abused, even if it had been him that had been willingly, in the end, collared by his mistress.
Arctic howled, flailing, kicking out – anything to release the burning tension inside him. It was more torturous than he’d expected to be filled with his seed while his cock ached with the e-stim, wanting to get him off. Everything that was being done with him, bar the ring that prevented it all, was designed to make him cum and cum hard, over and over again, yet nothing added up in that regard. He was broken and abused, a toy to be thrown aside, and yet he could not have denied the throbbing need pulsing through him, his heart and soul settled as he was forced to submit in his bondage despite everything else.
It was where he was supposed to be, well and truly, and Arctic would not have denied that, even if he had been asked. Maybe it was something that went without saying to others too, for they knew the sweet and kind Fluttershy and it must have been hard for them to match that up to the dominant Fluttershy with the image they had of her in their minds.
His balls tingled, the sensation changing, and he swore that they almost itched as they bloated out, shoving his backside up against the ceiling. They could no longer simply inflate smoothly like a balloon – a huge balloon! – but would have to push out, scraping aside the furniture that Fluttershy had so meticulously had him set in her dungeon, time after time again, just the way she liked it. The rack of whips on the wall clattered to the floor as he bumped it with his flank, huge and heaving, panting and groaning. A flailing hoof pushed over a box filled with harnesses that were due for him to sort, the wooden lid flying open and tipping its contents all over the floor. Yet the biggest disturbance to the room of all, of course, was the swell of his pony-nuts, how they pushed aside the spanking bench, clearing the room of even the equipment that had been bolted down into the floor, though he could only howl out through yet another broken, fragmented orgasm, wishing for it all to come to an end.
There was no end for him, however, not when they were all so intent on teasing him and playing with him, the tank emptying slowly into his balls as the machine filled him with what it thought it could take. The settings were all messed up from Rainbow Dash’s fidgeted and he panted as he clenched down too hard on the dildo rammed up under his tail, a sudden burst of pain reminding him all too clearly of just what his position there was. He was not to complain yet he wanted to get out, squirming helplessly, though even he was aware of how simply futile his situation was.
“You’re going to have such a big load for your mistress! What a good pony you are!”
It was a statement rather than a question but Arctic didn’t know what to think about that as Starlight Glimmer smiled at him. The pony with a pink coat and purple mane shot through with a curl of blue was an interesting sort but, well, it was strange how she was in herself, considering all that she had done before to that village of other ponies. It had left her with a casual air of dominance that lingered in all she did and had Arctic wanting to bow before her even out in public, as weird a need as that felt in itself.
But the dungeon was only so big and Starlight Glimmer looked a bit uncertain about everything herself as she levitated another drink to his lips, a potion vial that bubbled and sparked off as if the liquid was trying to leap into his lips. She said something about it making him more productive but he was too exhausted to say that he didn’t need to be, even Starlight eyeing him up with due trepidation that was sure to be warranted.
On her leaving, everything escalated sharply, though a chatter of voices above him sounded a little louder than usual. Maybe they knew how much he was bloating, the room too small around him, walls rushing in, everything exploding as if it had only been waiting for that moment to race to the forefront of it all. Arctic tried to squirm and twist but his balls churned and ached, more and more forced up into them, the ache and pulse tingling through. It could have been erotic if a sense of claustrophobia was not filling his peripheral vision, what was not taken up by his nuts only the walls that locked him in closed him in.
Did they know what was happening to him, even then? Arctic’s head ached, dizziness rocking into this stomach, a pit of roiling nausea. No, no... No, that could not be, he was sure of it. But not sure of it at the same time, his balls feeling as if the skin had been strained to its limit, though even he knew that the ache of them was not constrained solely to the bounds of Fluttershy’s dungeon. He knew how large he could get and he didn’t honestly know whether there was any true limit to his nuts and their inflation, the massive expansion of all that made him so very swollen and needy.
Arctic’s head dipped, though didn’t move at all. His body was in the way, his nuts shoving him forward, rocking his hindquarters, losing his sense of what was up and what was down. It didn’t matter, nothing matters, hide squeaking as he strained and bulged, moaning, though still not loud enough to draw the attention that may well have saved him.
Maybe they knew... Maybe they all knew. He wasn’t sure and neither did he need to be as he grunted, eyes closed. He couldn’t have seen all that much with his nose shoved into the far corner of the room anyway, hindquarters sore. The soreness, however, was the least of it, something pressing against his back, something that should have been hard and unyielding and yet, even then, began to buckle and bow...
Above him, someone screamed.
Yet it was too late for them to prevent what was already in motion as he pushed up and up and up against the ceiling, forcing the floorboards to bow out dramatically, finishing what his swelling had started, creaking and cracking, ponies crying out and scattering above. There was only one place for his balls to go as his back was crushed to the ceiling, needing that release, every last bit of it, more than filling the limits of the dungeon as he splintered furniture, even ripping out what she had bolted down into the floor too.
“What?”
That shout came from above but he could only moan, pressing his lips to the ceiling, trying to call from her, the massive strain from outside his body taking precedence as the milking machine squashed into his stomach. Still attached yet trapped between his cock and balls, it throbbed and pulsed, trying to drain him even as his nuts ached for that ultimate release, what his mistress had wanted all along.
The floorboards splintered, the walls were too close. Rolling his eyes back into his head, Arctic moaned, gasping for air.
The dungeon door slammed open as if the pony behind it, quite rightly, was hurrying along.
“Now, now, ladies, I just have to see how he’s doing. He must have...”
But Fluttershy didn’t get a chance to say more as Arctic finally ripped through the floor of her cottage, bulging up and up and up through her living room, the ponies that she’d had there for a tea party, quite rightly, squealing and scattering. He could hardly blame them for running for that was exactly what he would have done as he swelled beyond even the confines of Fluttershy’s cottage, the pent-up pressure in his squashed balls simply inflating into all the new space he had been allowed.
Wood splintered, windows shattered: Angel bunny ran for cover with his little white tail bobbing. Arctic would probably pay for scaring him later.
But he was not in control as he moaned and dragged the cursed machine alone with him, every inch of his body aching in a way that he could not describe yet commanded every nuance of his being. He was out and free but he would not stop bloating, not even as Fluttershy ran around him and tried to shut the machine off, too late to stop him from growing even larger still. The pony part of him appeared to be attached to his nuts, for how grotesquely large they were, larger than Fluttershy’s cottage as pegasi ponies even flew around him, gaping and gawking at how big he was. If they said anything though he did not hear them, “dangling” from his own nuts as his cock throbbed and throbbed, not even caring that his humiliation had been exposed so publicly.
It didn’t matter anymore. None of it mattered. All that mattered, at least to him, was that he got to cum, even if that was an impossibility with that accursed ring around the base of his cock, remaining tenaciously locked in place through it all. His nuts begged attention and Arctic’s groans rose and rose, swelling up above the tree line, the forest that backed onto Fluttershy’s cottage where her sanctuary was nestled.
Yet it was not to stop there as they tried to find a way to get the machine, which had to have been malfunctioning for it to take so long, off his cock without harming him. Magic would have to be used but his shaft was not swollen any more than it usually was, leaving the ring possible to remove even if the machine was not to be.
“There now, pet, I’ve got it, just relax now, mistress will look after you.”
Yet he didn’t hear her, blinking as he looked around, clouds passing by, Fluttershy beating her wings furiously as she ducked and swooped around him, trying to hover in close without being bumped out of the sky by his throbbing nuts. He had not realised how big he’d gotten, far above the tops of the trees, whimpering and moaning, and still growing. The Castle of the Two Sisters could just about be seen off in the distance and he was most certainly taller than the ramparts of that, blinking and moaning as he tried to cum, even then, a load of earth ponies dragging a giant tank that would have been used to store the entire day's load of milk on the farm up to him.
He shuddered. There was only one place where such a giant load of cum could go, his hide seeming to squeak as it strained out more and more, bulging furiously. His mistress said something soothing, her hooves, finally, on that blasted ring. Yet the end was not in sight as his balls throbbed, pulsing, his body realising that it was finally about to get every last bit in an explosive slam of pleasure that it had needed.
His balls churned and ached, the pony trembling, fear making him quail. But what could he do?
He had to cum.
Somewhere, not so far off that she could not feel the love and lust of ponies that kept her hungry while she needed to feed, Chrysalis opened her eyes, deep within her hive. Licking her lips, she sucked in a little of what had seeped so very far into her kingdom and domain, hunkered down in the dark of her nursery while the eggs wiggled and glowed, wanting to hatch the next generation of Changelings already. They would be the last for a while, unless she could take the seed from another pony to fertilise them, she thought as she sucked in his lust, Arctic’s teasing need reaching her even there.
“Well, well, well...”
Her eyes gleamed.
“Perhaps Ponyville has more to offer than we first thought, my drones.”
The smaller Changelings, her drones, buzzed around her, having felt it too but not being strong enough to feed, which was disappointing for them. Her drones were hungry, so very hungry, and they could not even suck down the meagre amount of energy that she devoured from a distance, slurping it up and down the flex and pulse of her throat, letting it infuse her wholly with vibrancy and energy.
Chrysalis’ licked her lips.
“A strong force like that should be in my feeding chamber...”
Yet Arctic knew none of it as he finally exploded in orgasm, his mistress draining the cum from him into the tube as another hose was locked around the head of his cock. Some escaped, splattering everywhere, but there was plenty more still stored up in his castle-sized nuts, but they more than filled the massive tank, which, in all fairness, was only designed for one load of milk. However, they were more than able to take advantage of the situation, using the hoses to feed his cum back into his stomach by way of his mouth, shoving it straight down his throat to be more than sure that no more drops of his virile cum would be wasted.
Arctic couldn’t have fought back, didn’t even have any kind of will to fight back in him. That wasn’t how it went, wasn’t how things were, moaning and grunting even around the hose, eyes half-lidded. For the pain of climaxing was overruled by the bliss of orgasm, however strained it was at the peak of it all. Whether it was true ecstasy or some kind of broken relief was up for debate as he spent throb after throb of thickly virile cum forth, even though his shaft was nowhere near large enough to adequately and swiftly drain nuts of that size. Yet there was only one possible way for his orgasm to flood forth and that was down the spire of his cock, the tip sore and aching but in the very best of ways.
Yet it was not wasted as it poured back into his stomach, bloating him out and out and out in a new way, though his stomach was better-prepared to be filled in such a manner. It swelled and grumbled and he moaned around the thick length of the hose, even wantonly pushing his tongue up to the underside of it as his need throbbed, desperation coursing through him like never before. It was a need and a want all bundle up together as, throb by throb, his stomach inflated while his balls grew smaller, allowing him the notion of returning to some semblance of normal.
He imagined that he could taste it, slick cum sliding down his throat as his belly churned and gurgled, groaning as it was forced to hold so very much. Yet there was nothing there for him to do to stop any of it as he moaned and tried to rock his hips, slowly coming down past the level of the trees, although he only swapped one bloated body part for another as more and more poured down his throat into his gut.
Still, the tide had to turn at some point as his belly took on a greater volume than his balls, swapping one bloating for the other as his intestines churned, guts seeming to squirm into one another as they shifted out of the way for the bloating of his belly. He took it all like the truly obedient and submissive pet he was, everything he had on show for all to see, moaning and grunting, working his throat as if he was actively engaged in gulping down cum. It was all as it was supposed to be, his whimpering whines rising fervently, need trembling, clawing at his soul. And he could do it all as his mistress was there too, stroking his mane, ducking down to his cock, teasing the length, helping him coax out every last bit that his aching, pounding nuts had to give.
At some point, the devices and toys to make him cum harder had been taken away, a cool breeze tickling at the dock of his tail, but it was not as if Arctic needed them anymore. All he needed was the relief of orgasm, the bliss of it, rocking and grinding, letting every last drop of cum flow forth. Yet as he was emptied he was filled too, completing the cycle, moaning with heavy-eyelids, fat and wobbling, rising back up to a lesser size than he had before (considering the tank he’d filled) but still quite considerable and impressive. He didn’t know what forces he’d awakened out there, only that he was glad to, finally, have an end to a session that had gone so very wrong, balls pulsating with pain now that they had deflated back to their usual size.
Sitting there, wobbling on his belly, Arctic sighed, his balls finally emptied, his mistress with him. There’d be something to do about the cottage but he was sure that Starlight Glimmer and maybe even Twilight Sparkle were working on it right away for their friend. That was one good thing about having unicorns around.
It had not been how he’d expected the day to go, stomach full to bursting point with cum, but it was not entirely bad, even if it had been a surprise. Concerned, his mistress fluttered up to his head, the hose withdrawn from his lips, a trickle of cum seeping forth, though he lapped it up so swiftly that he didn’t even have a chance to wipe it away.
Even swollen and needy, Arctic was always Mistress Shy’s best pet.
Always.
