Spike and the Island

A cauldron bubbled over an open emerald flame. It hissed and sizzled, cast its otherworldly light over the tribe, watched over by their leader Zecora who worked her latest spell. An assortment of gathered materials were dumped into the pot which smoked and slightly bubbled over, while the witch doctor danced naked to the constant beat of drums by her followers.

On the sidelines Spike and Lightning Dust patiently sat and watched, the latter draped nude over his left side as he held her, and likewise Gabby to his right, who claimed she was his now. All he needed to was agree to help them retake the island.

He thought it over, his claws wandering over his lovers, feeling the soft squish of their flesh under his rough but tender touch. Their smooth breasts were crushed to his scales, trailed over his muscles, which they kissed with their erect nipples. He pleasurably groaned in response, eyes half-lidded as the moonlight bore down on the jungle around them.

“The spell is almost complete. Yet it requires one more ingredient before we meet,” said Zecora.

“You're rhyming again,” teased Gabby who tittered haippily in her love's arms.

“Apologies. I realize it's difficult for outsiders to understand my native tongue. Anyhow, for the final touch we require a more...raw display Since you've met the coven, Spike, perhaps you're aware of what I have in mind?”

Lightning spoke up before he could answer and said, “Let me guess, we have to have an orgy?”

“Crudely put, but yes. Sexual relations are part of the ritual, and afterward, I will gather what I can from everyone's releases. So please, Gabby, try not to swallow all his semen,” she chided teasingly and the tribeswoman blushed.

Wasting no time, Zecora pushed Spike back and straddled him. She took both his members into her lower orifices, moans and groans mixed as his knots immediately swelled and spread her walls wide. Immediately she bounced atop him, her teeth grit, her nails raking across his scales. His tail flicked atop, his wings spread, and his claws began to travel across her contours.

Beside him Lightning Dust and Gabby peppered him in hungry kisses, fondling their own tits and fingering themselves, inhaling the fumes from the cauldron that lowered any inhibitions and stirred up a need to be properly bled to completion.

Unable to be satisfied by her own touch alone, Gabby straddled his tail and rubbed her soaked cunt over its length. She concentrated on the spines, felt them rub between her swollen, sticky pussy lips, left a slimy trail that dripped down it.

Around them the tribe joined in, and he noted the women far outnumbered the men, which he assumed was because many of the latter were lost to the constant war that raged on. Not that he could think straight, his mind like his loves dulled by bliss.

On occasion Lightning or Gabby would offer a tit to him, and he'd greedily latch his snout onto them, pulling and sucking, swishing his tongue around nipples which he playfully nipped on. They cooed in appreciation, their faces pink and afire.

The world around them started to darken. Clouds broke and an oily rain started to patter down on them. Spike couldn't tell if this was real or simply a hallucination brought on by the vapors, but he hardly cared, pleased by the shiny sheen that was left all over everyone, unable to take his hazy eyes off the oiled up, denuded beauties who hungered to take his cocks.

Faster and faster the shaman rode him, and she clenched tight around his members each time they pulsed. The atmosphere around them was a constant trickle of rained mixed with moans and cries of shameless pleasure.

He wasn't certain if it was due to some magic she worked, but somehow everyone present reached their climax at once. A crescendo of pleasure resounded, bodies quaked, and a surge of cum was unleashed into all the unwilling receptacles, met by the squirts that messily washed upon them. Spike, in particular, was hosed down by the discharge of his lovers.

Above him Zecora's belly swelled and swished with an excess of his spunk. After his twitching stopped, she pulled free of his knots with a loud pop, and scooped her hand beneath her slit to keep his seed sealed in for the moment.

“Quickly, everyone! Toss your secretions into the cauldron!” They rushed to follow the shaman, who scooped the cum from her inflamed twat and chucked it into the soup, which sizzled and bubbled some more. A number of the tribe collected their releases into pots and jars, then poured it into the concoction, which began to grow brighter as they completed the drink.

Thunder cracked and lightning erupted upon the concoction's completion. The soup cooled with another hiss, and she dipped a ladle into the mess, which she hungrily drank down. “Ah,” she hissed in delight. “Already, I feel reinvigorated!”

Spike remembered what Beatrix did in her spare time. “Is this alchemy?”

“Similar,” admitted the shaman. “This will make us many times more powerful temporarily. Everyone, come forward!”

The tribe scooped the drink up with pots, bowels, or their bare hands and took a mouthful. They sucked it down, Gabby included, who blushed and giggled, barely able to stand up as she drunkenly swayed. “Ooh, it's so nice! Come on!”

Spike and Lightning Dust looked at each other. “Uh,” he started. “Not sure I want to drink my own-”

“Don't be a wuss,” teased Lightning with a cocky smirk as she practically plunged her face into the soup and swallowed it. She drew back with a splash that fell over her slender tits, unfurled her wingspan, and cried out, “Fuck yeah! I feel amazing!”

“R-really? Okay,” mumbled Spike who gulped and wandered forward, aware an alpha drake couldn't show weakness if he wanted his herd to respect him. He had to show them he was strong and brave, that he could protect them and their children.

Suddenly an explosion caused the tribe to scream and duck. Guns fired into the area, and Spike rushed protectively in front of Gabby, unable to deny the sting of the bullets but thankful they couldn't quite break his armor-like scales.

“Let him go,” warned Rainbow Dash who charged in, cutlass in hand.

Gabby yelped and hid behind the drake. “More invaders?”

“No,” cried Spike. “Stop this!” Yet around him the pirates rushed to meet the tribe, cutlasses and spears raised. He noticed for some reason the crew were dressed in a similar matter to the tribe, barely clothed and possessed by a similar violence.

Beatrix ran to his side. “You okay? They haven't hurt you, have they?”

“Quite the opposite,” butt in Lightning Dust. “We have to put an end to this before someone's killed!”

“Alright,” replied Beatrix who summoned her cape into her hands and reached into its folds. “How about a little distraction?”

Ghostly apparitions manifested around the jungle. The clash between tribe and pirates were interrupted by the sudden intrusion, some convinced they had come to possess them. Thankfully it had the desired effect as the skirmish started to break.

There were yells as both parties scattered or wildly slashed, stabbed, and fired on the twisted creatures. The tribe assumed they were sent by their enemies, as the outcast tribe hunted and assaulted them at every opportunity.

“They're illusions,” said Zecora with narrowed eyes, able to peer through the attempted misdirection.

A roar sounded that made blood run cold. In the midst of them leaped Spike who drew their attention, Beatrix, Lightning Dust, and Gabby mounted on his back. “Everybody, settle down! Now!” He huffed, seemingly far larger and more powerful than ever, as in the midst of the battle he'd drank down half the cauldron. His eyes blazed white, nostrils flared with wispy smoke.

Once he was certain he had everyone's attention he inhaled deep to calm himself. “Okay. Everyone settle down now? Drop your weapons and listen.” They instantly obeyed and clatters sounded as arms were thrown before him.

“Sorry,” said Beatrix. “But I couldn't think up anyway to stop this!” She clicked her fingers and the 'ghosts' vanished.

“Another powerful witch,” observed Zecora. “It seems we simply have a misunderstanding. Regrettable nut understandable, as we captured their comrades to begin with.” She looked to Calaeno. “Do you speak for them? You carry yourself differently.”

“Yes, I'm the captain of this sorry lot. Call me Calaeno.” She offered a hand and the shaman shook it.

“And I am Zecora. We have much to discuss, I see. About the future of my tribe and the island. Let us settle in and break bread.” She directed her tribe, who nodded and proceeded to make the pirates feel comfortable.

“I feel kinda woozy,” admitted Scootaloo who touched her head and blushed.

Beatrix sniffed the air. “It's the vapors. Smells like some sort of aphrodisiac? Maybe some psychedelics, too!”

“Mmm, perhaps that would be a better way to unite our parties,” said the shaman who studied the newcomers as they sat down and tentatively accepted the offered food and drink after Spike urged them to. “Rest a while, for soon we shall celebrate!”

“Another orgy so soon?” Gabby beamed wide and cuddled up to the drake's chest. “Take me this time, won't you?”

“Of course,” he promised and stroked her hair as she nuzzled him. “Glad it turned out okay.”

Over the next hour the pirates made themselves comfortable for what was to come, the shaman aware they would have to be eased into relations with the tribe. Fortunately the outsiders like Spike and Beatrix helped bridge the gap between them.

Small talk broke out as they introduced themselves, aware that to retake the island there was no choice but to work together.

None of them were aware that the island's guardian continued to stalk ever closer...