*PLAP*

*PLAP*

*PLAP*

*PLAP*

Sweetie Belle paused at the entrance to the cabin door, her ears twitching as they folded back against her head with uncertainty. She already felt as if she were breaking in by stepping into the room — she hadn’t expected her father’s cabin door to be unlocked.

Maybe her father was in the restroom, or just hadn’t heard her knock? But once the door started to open in her hoof it was just so natural to step in, without even thinking.

Her mind briefly flashed to times she’d scolded her own parents for barging into her room. Privacy was something she’d never cared about as a blank-flank filly, but now, just a year shy of going off to Twilight’s Friendship University on her own, Sweetie was intimately aware of the value of a few seconds to scramble, post-knock, to conceal embarrassing objects or activities.

But what could her dad, the adorably dorky Hondo Flanks, possibly have to hide?

Immediately the sound of strange, flesh-slaps had made her head tilt with a confused curiosity. It almost sounded like clapping… except the rhythm was all wrong: too slow for an enthusiastic cheer, too fast for a sarcastic golf clap.

And there was no sound of clacking hooves, either.

This was the sound of flesh slapping on flesh.

Sweetie’s hooves carried her tentatively forward, creeping deeper into the cabin and the deep shag carpet there that kept her from making any loud hooffalls as she was drawn to the strange, inexplicable ‘plapping’.

As Sweetie passed into the stateroom’s quaint sitting room, a feature of the more luxurious cabins, complete with comfortable sofas and armchairs, her eyes were drawn by movement, her peripheral vision catching the blur of white fur through the open door to the master bedroom.

All at once, time seemed to slow, all her senses drinking in the magnitude of the shock the sight burning into her retinas, scorching up her optic nerve, and indelibly engraving itself in her memory.

Her father was fucking somepony.

Sweetie had always thought that her father was handsome. Even more than the usual way in which all little girls thought their dads were idealized versions of stallions: nurturing, rugged, masculine. Unlike her mother, Sweetie’s dad Hondo had managed to maintain his physique over the years. He was built more like a farmhand than a magic-wielding unicorn, preferring to do most of his chores by hoof instead of the easier option of using magic. That had left him as a well-built, handsome older stallion, even despite the rather ridiculous mustache that everypony in the family agreed should have been relegated to the dustbin long ago.

Now Sweetie was watching that body in motion, sweat dripping from his back and coursing in little trickling rivers off his flanks. Bulges of his big, powerful muscles jerked and throbbed just under his layer of thick white fur.

He was standing on his bed, his forelegs planted up on the wall, the bulk of his body covering whatever mare he had mounted.

Sweetie had never seen her father like this. In action.

His big, powerful hips were swinging back and forth with regular, clenching thrusts, each time launching with nearly enough force to lift him and the poor mare under him slightly off the bed.

His hips would slide up and forward, impacting into the filly’s flank hard enough to make that wet ‘plap!’ sound that she’d been hearing over and over.

Beneath her father’s swishing brown tail, which wagged in a lifted way she’d never seen before, a black blur of motion caught Sweetie’s attention.

After getting to see entirely too much of her father’s tailhole and taint than she ever wanted… Seriously dad, I know it’s not your style but a little trimming down there would be appreciated. Sweetie quickly realized that speed-smeared swinging blur she was seeing was a pair of ponderously huge, black heavy balls.

Her father’s balls.

She’d caught little glimpses here and there growing up, of course. Standing a little too close behind when her dad’s tail flicked away an errant fly or making the mistake of looking up when steadying him on a ladder… there was even the time she’d accidentally walked in on him when their bathroom door was broken: he’d been standing to urinate into the toilet.

Big, floppy daddy dick had stayed burned into her cortex for a good long time. From discussion with Scoots and Applebloom, it was apparently a pretty common thing: fillies tended to overestimate the size of their dad’s flaccid wieners when they caught a glance — hard to avoid when you’re young and impressionable.

But she’d looked away. She always did. She’d been raised to be polite and not stare at colts’ and stallions’ dangly bits.

Honestly, she didn’t even really like looking at those bits, unlike her horndog friends. One of her most embarrassing memories was being dragged into sneaking up into the hayloft to watch Big Macintosh shower after working the fields... Applebloom’s brother! Not that it had given either of those two randy fillies pause — Sweetie swore that Applebloom’s left forehoof was suspiciously out of sight.

No, Sweetie Belle much preferred a stallion’s jaw. His mane. His physique.

She didn’t even have a PornStable account!

But watching the mesmerizing pendulum swing back and forth was hypnotic. The two heavy organs were big. Like, really big!

Swinging low, they sat deep in the black leather pouch of her father’s scrotum, lazily swinging up to strike the mare’s butt he was slowly, rhythmically bucking the hell out of. It was impressive, really.

Sweetie swallowed to herself as she considered just how hard her dad was thrusting, to make those big beautiful black balls swing like that. He was really giving it to this mare.

The thought clicked off in her mind, unsteadying her on her hooves for a moment, nearly making her grasp the edge of the nearby couch for balance.

Just who was her dad rutting so hard?

It wasn’t her mother. Cookie Crumbles had not come on this cruise, she’d never planned to. She was off visiting her friends in Manehattan. Even if she’d somehow changed plans last second, managed to snag one of the impossible tickets, and boarded at the last second… those weren’t her mom’s legs pinned beneath the primal force of nature single-mindedly thrusting itself into the mare’s warm, squishy depths.

The mare currently being slammed into the plaster above the headboard of the bed, pressed completely against the cabin-wall, was alabaster-furred, not the light pink of Sweetie’s beloved mother.

He was having an affair! Cheating on her!

Sweetie felt her jaw set, a lump rising in her throat. Outrage. Shock. She’d always assumed that her parents had a happy, perfect marriage… as most foals do.

Sweetie felt angrier at the mare than her father, her eyes scanning over what little she could see of her, not covered by the stallion’s body. Was she just some hussy? Somepony who’d met Hondo on the cruise? It didn’t seem possible for Hondo to have planned a tryste on this cruise ahead of time — he was here with his two daughters, to spend some quality father-daughter time with them. Hondo would not have been so foolish as to think that he could interweave illicit affair dates with a lover between brunches with Sweetie Belle and her older sister Rarity.

She must have been a casual hookup. A sudden target of opportunity. Had she seduced him, or was it the other way around?

There was a perverse pride she felt for her dad — the old stallion had managed to bag a mare in such a short time after leaving port. She would have whispered ‘Way to go, dad!’... if there wasn’t the associated stigma that he was in the process of cheating on her mother.

Cheating hard.

Even brutally so.

There was a thunking sound coming now, as the mare’s head was driven into the cabin-wall, over and over.

Her father was strong.

She’d always known that, of course. The way the big stallion was able to scoop her up in his arms so effortlessly, even as she’d grown into a young teen filly was evidence of just how much power was contained in those sinewy muscles.

But watching him pound the Tartarus out of this mare, with nothing held back, was a real eye-opener.

Aside from the ‘plapping’ slaps, a crunching crackle began to fill the air: her father was literally rutting this mare through the wall of the cabin. It was a weak facade-wall, placed over the strong, cold steel of the actual ship’s hull of course… but still!

“Holy buck, Dad.” Sweetie Belle whispered to herself.

Her eyes were glued to the conjunction of mare and stallion, briefly able to catch glimpses of her father’s stallionhood — though it was mostly buried hilt-deep in the white, plump marehood of this mystery home-wrecker. On every other thrust, Sweetie caught a flash of brilliant pink against the jet-black of her father’s cock, as brief as a blink, before her father’s powerful hips would slam back into place to obscure her spectating.

But she didn’t miss the thick splatters of fluid that would splash down onto the bed in between each pounding, aggressive thrust. This mare was creaming on her father, soaking his legs and the bed beneath in a way that might stain the mattress permanently.

Sweetie had heard from her friends that some mares were… ‘squirty’. Scootaloo claimed to be of this type, with an obscene kind of pride. Sweetie herself knew she could get very… drippy when playing with some of her secret toys.

But this mare was something else!

Splash after splash of sticky marecum shot-out from her, over and over, soaking everything. Sweetie’s nostrils flared as she picked up the wave of smell from the frenzied pair’s exertions.

A mixture of sweat, musk, pheromones and perfume. The sweet stink of sex.

She swallowed, as if to drink down the odor that had caught in her throat. She could sense her father in the complex bouquet of lust, that pleasant, simple aftershave and deodorant he had used for decades… something her mind automatically associated with comfort, paternal support, and the loving embrace of her father…

But it was mixed with the musky, masculine fog of his sex-charged sweat. The humid potency of scent slinging from his heavy bouncing ballsack, from the steaming black shaft pistoning in and out of his mare, from the pre-ejaculate mixed in with each squirting gush splattering out onto the bed….

Sweetie had caught the whiff of excited colts before, of course. There was no filly or mare that had gone through a heat-cycle that hadn’t. But most of the time she’d been near randy younger colts her age… And the mildly interesting nose-twitch that a whiff of a teen-colt that had accidentally, embarrassingly dropped was a far cry from the attention-demanding wash of a virile, in-rut, actively-fucking stud.

To smell that… mixed in with her father’s scent… it was doing things to her body that made her feel very uncomfortable.

Sweetie couldn’t deny that this whole experience was shockingly exciting. The smells, the sounds, the sights… it was all sexy as hell. Her well-wound-up teenage biology was interpreting these signals as an opportunity to quench those feminine desires that had started to churn in her young body… the fact that these signals were coming from her dad made her stomach do flips, the guilt of feeling ever-so-slightly turned on by her father.

Sweetie’s nostrils twinged again.

There was something else in the air wafting over to her. Another note of something so strangely familiar.

But the olfactory tones piquing her secondary interest were not the rank and powerful masculine musk hitting her in the face like a sledgehammer… it was the feminine undertones. The saffron hints in the gossamer waterfall of mare-arousal that was splattering down on the covers, over and over, mixed with a perfume that seemed oh-so-familiar.

She was almost sure she had smelled that wonderfully female air before… frequently even.
“Ahhhhnnn!” A throaty groan escaped the mare, and she thrashed underneath her father, her back spasming up and down against one of Hondo’s meatier thrusts.

Lucky mare. Sweetie smirked to herself, watching the covered body clench and twist in the throes of a powerful orgasm, as an even heavier spray escaped from their union. But the hairs on the back of her neck prickled, standing up as if the air were charged with the ionic crackle before a lightning strike.

That groan had sounded… familiar.

*Smack!*

Her father had taken a hoof off the wall to swing a savage slap against the mare’s buttocks, his heavy hoof landing with a cracking sting against her white flank just as he finished slamming into her with a powerful, hilting thrust. His hoof perfectly obscured the mare’s cutie mark before he reached with his other hoof, grabbing a hoof-ful of her purple mane and jerking backward, roughly dominating this unicorn as her bucked the hell out of her.

Holy Celestia, dad…! Sweetie’s mouth hung open in enraptured attention. Another guilty twinge flickering through her. She didn’t know her father could be so… alpha. She swallowed again, her mind too busy to repress and explain away the growing arousal she was feeling for the stallion that had raised her.

She felt her tail lifting ever so slightly, her heart pounding in her chest… her body was reacting to the sight, her biological response preparing itself.

“Ahnn… Y-yesss!” The voice of the mare was as shocking as turning on the shower when the hot-water tank had broken. At the same time, the mare screamed her delight at Hondo’s rough treatment of her, her head threw back entirely into view, her distinctive, purple tail thrashed between Hondo’s legs, and Hondo’s slapping hoof retracted to reveal a set of three blue diamonds for a cutie mark.

Rarity.

Sweetie Belle’s older sister.

Hondo Flank’s first daughter. A daughter he had raised by hoof, as normal and genuinely as any father could… changing diapers, bouncing her on his knee, teaching Rarity her first spell, how to ride a bike, helping her through school…

Sweetie was watching him bury himself in that daughter’s pussy, the two of them fucking like animals.

“Baby… I’m close!” Hondo’s groan was loud enough to shake the walls, his hoof clenching the chunk of hair tighter than before, and his heavy thrusts coming faster, with shorter strokes that didn’t drive as deep, filling the cabin with staccato, incestuous flesh sounds.

*Plapplapplapplapplap!*

“Yes, Daddy!” Rarity moaned, her voice more like that of a dramatic Canterlot whorse than her usual prim accent, “Fuck me harder! Fill me! Inside!”

Sweetie felt dizzy as she watched her older sister thrust backward against her father’s thrusts.

She’d always known her sister as a prim and proper fashionista diva. A real lady of a mare, always concerned with poise, manners and devastating stylishness.

And here she was… a sex-starved mess! Fucking herself onto her own father’s cock, groaning and grunting like a two-bit back-alley slut as she soaked the bedsheets, pivoting her hips upwards so she would be able to take the full brunt of the paternal rutting that was reaching its climax.

“Rarity!? Dad!? What the fuck!!!”

Both Rarity’s and Hondo’s heads snapped to their right, as they immediately realized they had been found out. With eyes as wide as dinner plates, and mouths hanging open in stunned expressions, they both locked eyes with the screaming youngest member of their family.

“S-sweetie Belle!?”

“Sweetie!?”

It had been a long time since Sweetie Belle had screamed something in her ‘Squeaky Belle’ voice, as AppleBloom and Scootaloo liked to teasingly call her. Growing up into her teenaged body had developed her powerful vocal cords… and she’d generally become a more calm, collected individual. But if there had been a wine or champagne-glass in the cabin, it would have likely shattered.

Their stunned gasps echoed through the cabin. The hackles on both of them were raised in pure terror, making them look as if they had been plugged into the wall-circuit and given a full dose of electricity.

“Honey, w-what are you doing here- AH!” Hondo’s question was cut off, as his eyes suddenly clenched shut and he grit his teeth. “Rarity!?”

Sweetie could see Rarity had started to shake, her back arching up and down spasmodically and her irises quivering and crossing; a moronic look of pleasure slipped across her face and she instinctively humped backward into Hondo.

“F-father! S-sorry...” Rarity gasped, beside herself. “I can’t st… I’m CUMinGHHhhh!”

Sweetie covered her mouth with her hoof as she watched her beloved older sister orgasm on her father’s stallionhood. A feral moan escaping her muzzle sounded more like a wounded animal than a pony, a long drawn-out mixture of pleasure and release that shook the windows of the cabin.

“Oh… OH, baby!” Sweetie watched her father’s face turn from her again, all of his focus back on his daughter underneath him as he tried to hold on. She watched his teeth grit ferociously, eyes squeezing shut with intensity as his surging muscles in his neck, shoulders and legs tensed with fury… attempting to endure the orgasm of the mare he was hilted in.

Sweetie saw every bit of the unfolding disaster — she could see Rarity’s rhythmic, orgasmic shudders. Ripples of muscular spasms that rolled up her body, each perfectly in time with one of the fashionista’s little humping back-thrusts. Sweetie Belle could only imagine the clenching grasps that her sister’s marehood were unleashing on her father’s deeply-hilted stallionhood, milking his cock… demanding his release.

“Ohhhhhh F-f-f-fuuuuuck!” Hondo scream-shouted, bellowing in triumphant defeat.

Sweetie’s eyes watched with wonder as she saw her father’s big, black testicles race up to his groin, shortening from their dangling-pouch length to tightly-clenched against his body in an instant. She saw the heavy, muscular squeezes of Hondo’s body around those balls, each making the veins on their previously smooth surface pop-out bulgingly, each pulse of pressure pumping unseen semen into Rarity.

Sweetie’s bright green eyes flickered to Rarity’s face, which had shifted suddenly from contorted pleasure to dopey relief. Her eyes spun disjointedly as her tongue slipped out the side of her mouth, all her awareness totally dead to the world.

Most unladylike.

“Gaaaarrgh!” Hondo gasped, his body also thrumming in orgasmic waves, overwhelming biological instinct demanding that he finish his mare off with powerful, final orgasmic-thrusts, overriding any other impulses. His hooves clenched tightly, one jerking Rarity’s pleasure-drunk face upwards with a vicious hair pull, the other digging into the plump flesh of his eldest daughter’s beautiful asscheeks.

“D-dad!?” Sweetie screeched again, out of pure, reactionary horror.

Hondo jerked out of his reverie again, his face a confusing mixture of fear and pleasure as he locked eyes with Sweetie Belle once again.

“S-suh… SweetieEE! UnnF!” His moaning jerks continued as he pumped another load into Sweetie’s older sister.

Sweetie Belle wasn’t sure what was going through her father’s mind, what strange mix of confusion and fear drove him to take his next actions. Perhaps he knew that what he was doing was wrong, and that he’d been caught… leading to an instinctive response to attempt to stop it immediately. His brain certainly didn’t have the spare cycles to realize that there was little he could do to make it better… and so he decided to try to pull out.

A disaster.

Sweetie’s already stunned eyes went wider and wider. She was worried for a moment they might burst out of her head. She was watching inch after inch of huge, jet-black, steaming horsecock being withdrawn from her older sister.

Horsecock that belonged to her father.

Hondo awkwardly stepped back off of Rarity, dismounting her even as he continued to orgasm inside her. With each shuffling backward movement, he revealed more and more of ‘himself’ to his youngest daughter, who was unable to look away.

He’s as thick as my freaking leg. Sweetie Belle swallowed, mouth hanging open behind her hoof. And it just keeps… going!

She’d never seen anything like it. Sure, she’d gotten a glimpse or two over that little horndog Scootaloo’s shoulder when the pegasus was browsing the BZC (big zebra cock) section of pornstable.com… and she’d seen Applebloom’s older brother soft when they’d done their hayloft peeping expedition (much to the boastful Applebloom’s chagrin).

But what she was seeing sliding out of her older sister, the sheer size of the horseflesh attached to her dad, was jaw-droppingly bigger.

It dripped with spouting, frothy fluid… steamed with sheer lust-heat… veins throbbed out on his shaft in orgasmic pulses. For a moment, Rarity’s pussy was being drawn out with his shaft, her throbbing pink inner-lips gripping and suckling to the flesh… before Hondo’s huge medial ring slipped out of her with a resounding…

*pop!*

A rush of creamy batter came gushing out around all sides of the meaty stallionhood… and yet it kept coming, inch after inch of upper shaft. Little patches of pink began to appear, the mottled end of his log-sized cock starting to come into view.

Holy Tartarus, dad!

Sweetie squeaked a grunt of surprise into the hoof covering her mouth as for a moment it seemed like her sister’s entire plot was expanding… a huge bulge rising behind the soaked white skin of her marehood and the patch of skin between the top of her lips and her plump tailhole… It was Hondo’s cockflare stretching Rarity to her limits as it exited her tight pussy.

*Plop!*

That’s… they get that big!?

Sweetie looked at the hoof-sized bell-shaped flare of her father’s stallionhood. It was a bright pink, almost red with the amount of blood that had swollen into it during its flare. The mound of its bulging tip alone was the size of a tennis ball… and it only got wider as it flared out to its saucer-sized edge. She’d never realized just how knobby a fully-flared stallion could be: Hondo’s flare-extremity was covered in pulsing bumps, each meant to embed itself into the soft vaginal flesh of a mare.

Before Sweetie’s very eyes, she saw the straw-sized urethra quiver, its engorged ring trembling in anticipation… before a huge fountain-like rope of thick, steaming stallion-cum shot out of her father’s cock.

It seemed to hang in the air for seconds, propelled with so much force and volume that it was more of a ribbon-like stream than a mere wet wad… before it fell with a heavy plopping splatter across her older sister’s back.

“Dad!”

“Ahhhngmmm~…!”

Sweetie’s second squeak in as many moments came along with a writhing moan of dissatisfaction from her older sister, wiggling her hips as she slumped to the soaked bedsheets, her plot pouring guzzles of white cream… clearly upset that she was being covered with batter instead of stuffed with it.

“S-sweetie! I… uh…” Hondo scrambled, turning to face his youngest daughter.

Sweetie watched the massive black and pink stallionhood swing through the air toward her: Eighteen inches of girthy, pulsing masculinity swung slowly through the air, lagging behind Hondo’s abrupt turn because of its sheer mass. Her eyes couldn’t help but drink in every inch of her father, the impressive monster leaving a fog of steam in its wake as its freshly unsheathed, humid bulk cut through the relatively cooler air of the cabin.

“I… uh… w- unff!” Her father’s stammer was cut off.

Sweetie watched another huge jet of semen blast from her father’s pink tip, the thick rope of stringy cum now firing across the cabin toward her. It reminded Sweetie of the time Scootaloo had aimed and fired a super-soaker cannon at her, except it was a musky, frothing white liquid instead of cold, clear water.

She raised her hooves to protect her face out of instinct… but the huge jet luckily fell short. The cable of stallion-seed landed just shy of her, still covering an impressive distance of cabin flooring with jelly-stickiness that pointed all the way back to her beloved father…

“S-sorry! I… mmm…!” Hondo’s pathetic apology was again cut off by his next ejaculation, adding to the small puddles he’d already left on the floor.

Sweetie peeked through her hooves, realizing she was now safe from receiving an accidental facial from her father… getting instead to see him amusingly scramble with his hefty erection, trying to control his angle.

Another splatter raced out to meet the first two, landing close enough to Sweetie and impact against the furthest steaming puddle of her father’s ejaculate that it sprinkled little spatters of liquid against the teenager’s rear hooves.

Ewwww!

Sweetie stuck her tongue out automatically, grossed out by the fact that it had actually touched her. Immediately she could taste the thickness of the air — the ejaculate was so spattering and thick that it left a fog of musky stallion-ness she could literally taste.

It occurred to Sweetie that she was covered in the potent atmosphere, that it was getting into her mane, her fur, her nose. Everything!

Gross!

“S-sorry Sweetie… I… I got it… Ahnnn!” Hondo grunted, awkwardly pushing his erection down so that it was nearly touching the cabin floor just before he released another gushing spurt. The heavy puddle grew at his own hooves. “G-got it under control…”

“Uhm… o-ok…” Sweetie stammered, unsure what else to say. It was sort of awkward to be staring at your own father… as he held his massive horsecock in his hooves, smiling nervously at you as he nutted burst after burst of ejaculate onto the floor beneath him.

Sweetie watched him cum again, noticing the subtle strains in his nervous face, his eyes never leaving hers. Her own eyes flickered up and down from him to his spurting cock-tip, then back again. Each time she felt her face growing redder and redder with embarrassment, knowing that her father could see her checking his spurting stallionhood out.

“A-almost done… last one, Sweetie.” Hondo grimaced, apologetically.

“O-ok.” Sweetie gulped, watching a smaller jerking clench ripple through her father’s body, culminating in a spewing spatter of almost jelly-thickness from his pink flare, though far less voluminous than any that had come before.

“Ah… phew… there we go. All done.” Hondo nervously mumbled.

Sweetie watched as he slowly hoisted his cock, the pink end rapidly softening, like some kind of obscene anaconda off the ground. A thick strand of cum connected his shrinking flare to the immense puddle that was starting to spread out along the hardwood of the cabin-floor, streaming along as it silently pooled in nooks and crannies.

“Mmmm…. Yes, daddy.” Rarity groaned, rolling half-drunkenly onto her back.

That snapped Sweetie back into some semblance of sanity.

“WHAT THE BUCK IS GOING ON!?”

Author's Note

This is probably the first time that I've ever started a story with a sound-effect.

It's a bit of a goofy thing to do, but it was a fun way to being a clopfic!

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