“MMnnfh! Mhrlllf! Mnnghhh!”

Bon Bon’s eyes hurt.

She hadn’t lost consciousness, of that she was sure. But she’d gone suddenly from being in a dark, poorly-lit cell… to being bathed under a set of almost blindingly luminescent flood-lights. Normally a pony’s irises had enough time to adjust to a transition of light, but the time-skip meant that her optic nerves got a powerful blast of stimulation.

“Mmmmmf… glk…. Mrghh!”

Immediately Bon Bon’s other senses flooded back to her. Kinesthetically, she could tell that she was no longer flying through mid-air. Instead, she was bound. Tied to a chair tightly around her torso, fore-legs, and her hind-hooves. No wiggle room, whatsoever.

There was also something bumping against the back of her head, it almost felt like another pony’s mane, maybe even another pony’s head itself. It kept bumping into her too, rhythmically — as if the pony in question was being rocked back and forth in a chair, or was being constantly booped in the face.

Ugh, what’s that stink?

Her nose instantly picked up the smell of stallion musk. A thick, heavy smell, like the inside of a gym bag or a sweaty rag used by a farmhand after a long day’s work. The smell of sex. Manly sex.

She hated that smell.

“GllmnK! Gmnnn!”

And that strange noise, the one that sounded like a pony choking on their gag. What the hay was that?

Bon Bon worked her tongue around her muzzle, crinkling and moving her jaw. There was no gag on her — she wasn’t the one making those strange noises.

Her eyes finally adjusted, and her vision came rushing back to her… and it wasn’t good.

They’d set her up in front of a mirror, to make sure that she had a great view of the scene. She was tied up, of course… back to back with Lyra on a couple of tall-backed wooden chairs. She could tell from the knots and bindings that there was no way she’d be able to wriggle out of this one.

Not that she’d have the opportunity — they were surrounded on all sides by the four ponies she’d seen on her infiltration mission thus far. Standing off to one side, observing with a smirk, was the white-coated unicorn. Behind him, with an evil grin on her fang-filled face, as she held up a video-recording device to capture the action, was that thestral.

But those two were just in the background.

Right in front of her, was crunch… the huge bruiser pegasus that she’d been oh so close to knocking out with a kick. He was balancing his forelegs on a conveniently placed cross-bar… which brought Bon Bon’s face directly in front of his massive, long, erection.

Gah!

Behind her, Lyra was in a similar situation. Worse off, in fact.

The other bruiser, the earth-pony Trunch, was propped up on a similar support bar. His stallionhood was gargantuan. Nearly as shockingly long as the pegasus’s, but far stockier. Mimicking his huge bulk and throbbing muscles, the reddish-pink… monster… pulsed with veiny hardness, fully erect against the stud’s belly. It barely tapered as it approached his flare… where it once again blossomed out to a saucer-plate sized knob…

...which was partway into Lyra’s muzzle.

That was the strange choking, slurping groans that she was hearing! She could see Lyra’s face, tears forming at the edge of her eyes, her golden irises flashing up in panic to look at the earth-stallion, as her mouth struggled to open wide enough to take in any more of the huge stallioncock.

“H-hey! Stop th-” Lyra snarled, before she was booped in the nose by the pegasus’s flare, stunning her briefly before Crunch withdrew, leaving a sticky-clear strand of pre-ejaculate attached between the end of her nose and his drooling urethra.

“Now now now.” The white unicorn began to speak, grinning to himself. “Let’s not get too hasty here, Crunch. There’s no reason for us to not make this as enjoyable for our two guests as it will be for you!”

He trotted closer, flashing those sparkling white teeth as he menaced her with his cold stare.

“I do apologise for my hired help, I’m sure you’ve had the pleasure to work against far more competent goons throughout your storied career, Agent Drops.”

Bon Bon stiffened and blinked. Somehow the unicorn had figured out her name. That in itself was quite an accomplishment. There were only a very few ponies who could put her agent title against her face, and none that she could think of that were outside of the government itself.

“I’m so sorry, that’s rude of me. Using your name without introducing myself.” He held a hoof up to his chest. “My name is Quantum Freeze, I think you’ve had the pleasure of meeting our rather… oversized… friends, Truncheon and Clover Crunch. And this little bat-mare goes by Dusk Wing.” He nodded over his shoulder at the thestral, who waved back cheerfully with an adorable sincere smile unbefitting her nasty business. “There’s actually a fifth member of my crew, our chemist, who goes by the name of Blackheart.” He shrugged, shaking his head. “She was lucky enough to be out on errands before you and your little guard cordon descended on our hide-out, so I imagine she’s already high-tailed it out of town by now.”

“W-why are you telling me this?” Bon Bon growled.

“Ah yes, right to the point, hm? Why would I tell you all of this? There’s no reason to spill all the beans to an agent unless you intended to… well…” Quantum Freeze drew a hoof along the underside of his neck and stuck his tongue out. “Though I’m sure you’ve gotten your fair share of villain monologuing over your impressive past adventures.”

“If you hurt even a hair on the head of one of Celestia’s agents, or an innocent civilian like the pony-mare behind m-”

“Oh, you mean Lyra? Your roommate?” Quantum arched an eyebrow.

Bon Bon scowled. How did he know everything?

“...or Lyra… Luna will see to it that your sentence will be an eternity of night-terror, an unending sleep from which you’ll go mad with horror. Time flows differently in the dream-scape you know. A moment here can be an age there.” Bon Bon tried a bluff, hoping to maybe buy some time for her and Lyra.

“Eh, I doubt it.” Quantum shrugged. “I know a lot about time, you see… but besides that, I wonder if your Princesses have the stones for anything so savage. They seem to be much more about forgiveness these days.”

“There are some statues in Celestia’s gardens that might disagree with you about that.”

“Enough, I’m not going to be killing you or your little friend.” Quantum shrugged. “I told you all of that because I’m going to need you to convince the assault force currently sieging our base that we’ve turned into Crown’s witnesses: that we’re now informants working for you.”

Bon Bon blinked, her heart suddenly jumping with joy. “Well. If you do want to do the right thing and help us, we can talk — but get your bruiser’s stalli-”

“Oh no no, we wouldn’t actually be doing that. I’ve seen enough of my friends end up in weighted sacks at the bottom of Manehattan harbor for turning against the family. Hay, I put half of them there myself!”

Bon Bon felt her heart sink again. “I… I don’t understand. I’m not going to let you get out of here with that chemical, even if it means Lyra and I… don’t make it.”

“I know.” Quantum sighed, nodding. “Which is why what I’m actually going to do is make you two so reliant on us… so desperately needy for something only we have… that it’ll even break through that frustrating guard conditioning.”

“W-what?”

Quantum grinned and nodded to Crunch, who quickly unscrewed a bottle of the juice that Bon Bon had seen them administer to the human. He upended it at the thick, furry base of his huge erection… the hot trickle began to pour down his obscene length, coating his whole member in the splashing potion, which trickled off the end of his flare, some of it hitting Bon Bon’s snout.

The liquid was warm, almost hot. A hot tingling explosion rushed over Bon Bon’s nostrils, almost like it was a sparking firecracker of sensation. Everything inside her screamed in terror at the sense of potent magic constrained in the chemical, she desperately wanted to wipe her nose clean, but they were constrained by the ropes.

“I think getting you both incredibly addicted to dick will work just fine — don’t you?” Quantum smiled. “Kill two birds with one stone — reward my two bruisers here and take care of the little rut that your friend got them all worked up into… and make you two ready to tell any story I want when we go up that elevator in an hour or so.”

NO NO NO NO NO!

Bon Bon’s thoughts screeched , and she jerked back out of instinct. Immediately she bumped into Lyra’s head. There was little room to retreat.

“Mmmf!” A muffled groan came from Lyra’s still stuffed mouth.

“Now, we’re gonna play a little game.” Quantum smiled looking over to Dusk Wing, “I have it on good authority from my source that Agent Sweetie Drops here is a die-hard lesbian.”

“Oh really? One o’ dem loquat-lickers, huh?” Dusk clicked her tongue and shook her head, moving slightly to improve the framing of her recording. “Ponies these days are just going through such moral degradation, it’s shameful.”

“Yes. I’ve heard she’s never willingly looked at a cock — and busted more than one set of balls that came looking!” He pointed toward the mirror-reflection, directing Bon Bon’s gaze back to the wider scene. “Now, that mint slut? I have no idea where she stands. But I’m pretty sure she’s not addicted to dick… yet. Now this black-magic poison, which I’ve taken to calling Quantahol, has proven to really work some magic in a pony’s mind, body, and spirit.”

Bon Bon’s saw both Crunch and Trunch unscrew another bottle, each grinning to the other as they upended their potions onto their groins.

A fresh river of the liquid splashed into Bon Bon’s flinching face… but even worse, Bon Bon could see the liquid pouring into Lyra’s muzzle, directed there by the gargantuan stallionhood flaretip jammed partway into her mouth.

“See this stuff makes you super-addictable, permanently!” Quantum grinned, “So If my bruiser Trunch here pushes in just a little bit…” Quantum nodded at the bruiser, who slowly pushed his hips forward.

Lyra watched the huge, dome-like knob of his erection slowly start to press deeper into Lyra’s muzzle, spreading her jaw wider and wider to even attempt to permit the huge flare into her.

“Mmmglk! Glk… ghrkkk!” Lyra’s grunts became desperate swallows, as she struggled to breath air in.

“S-stop!” Bon Bon begged, cringing at the sight of her best friend and secret crush being made to gorge on such a grossly large stallionhood. She could feel the pressure of Trunch’s thrust against the back of her own head; she tried to let her head be pushed forward, to take some of the strain of the thrust and perhaps prevent Lyra from getting more of the mind-melting stallionhood into her muzzle…

But right there, right off of her nose… was Crunch’s equally obscenely large, dripping, dangerous stallionhood…

She couldn’t, she just couldn’t bring herself to move any closer to it! She could only whimper an even softer plea for them to stop, ashamed by the feel of force against the back of her skull that she was too cowardly to take herself… instead letting her beloved Lyra take it in the form of a face-fuck thrust.

But Quantum simply ignored Bon Bon’s plea, going on with his lecture instead. “The longer it’s in there, the more and more she’ll be getting addicted to some good, hard, dick.”

“Mmmmngh… mmn…” Bon Bon’s ears flickered back and forth — she couldn’t be sure: were Lyra’s moans changing? Was there already less resistance in those whimpers of hers?

“The deeper Trunch goes, the more effective the Quantihol will be — and if he really starts throat-swabbing her, or if he busts in there… well…” Quantum Freeze nonchalantly let his implication trail off. “Now, you can save her, Agent Drops — Or should I just call you Bon Bon? All you need to do is take a little of that pressure off of your friend there… just lean forward… let her take a little of Trunch’s tool out of her muzzle… as you take a bit of Crunch’s into yours.”

Bon Bon’s eyes almost crossed as she tried to focus on the dripping stallionhood just off the end of her nose. The big, pink flare was already almost touching her nose, drooling with a dangerous mixture of that black-mahic liquid and the bruiser’s pungent stallionjuice.

PIC GOES HERE: https://derpicdn.net/img/view/2017/6/13/1461000.gif

“Now Bon Bon, you have a choice, you see? You can lean forward, willingly get yourself addicted… or just leave your friend to her fate. The addictions from this spell are so much more effective if you choose to take it — but I promise you the mint-mare will lift her tail for a good, hard, rutting if you don’t.”

“Mmm… mm…”

Bon Bon grit her teeth, looking at her friend in the mirror. Deep down, she knew… she could already see that Lyra’s eyes weren’t as afraid, her ears not quite as folded back in alarm, and those moans were sounding more and more relaxed.

The addiction-spell was working.

Bon Bon swallowed hard, her mind filled with happy memories of the smiling and innocent Lyra. The Lyra that had always been by her side through her difficult transition into Ponyville as part of witness protection. Who had always been there to cheer her up with a personally made lyre-song on those dark days. Who could make her roll her eyes and chortle at some inane, goofy antics, day after day.

Her Lyra.

Bon Bon had to protect her!

She slid forward, feeling the pressure against the back of her head lessen, bit by bit, as she eased into Crunch’s stallionhood… until finally her nose came into contact with its drooling tip.

“Mm! Better hurry, bitch… you take much longer and I’m just gonna go wait my turn to use your little friend there.” Crunch gowled from above her, flexing his penis and making it rub against her nose.

Celestia it stank! Bon Bon flinched, the musky, potent stallion-smell invading her nostrils. That smell she’d detested all her life — one of the first clues that she was different from other mares.

She wanted to turn away, to pull back, anything to get away from him. But she couldn’t… she had to do this, for Lyra.

Bon Bon slowly parted her lips — sliding forward and taking the barest tip of the big pink dome into her mouth, allowing yet another half-inch or so of pressure to be transferred from Lyra’s blowjob.

BLEH!

The taste was awful. Powerful, sharp. Oakey like an aged whiskey, but grimy like some kind of ripened cheese, all mixed into one. She knew that gossipy mares loved the taste of their coltfriends and stallions but this was gagworthy…

Almost…

There was something else mixed in too. She could feel the sparkling energy of something buzzing over her taste buds, slowly infiltrating the delicate cilia of her tongue… almost like an aftertaste hiding behind the original punch.

It tickled… titillated.

It sort of reminded her of the first time she’d had a caramel apple. She loved caramel.

Bon Bon felt a hot rush of blood pound from her heart, making her cheeks flush and her head suddenly spin slightly.

N-no! Th-that’s… that’s the drug! Fight it Bonny!

She squeezed her eyes tightly, resisting the wave of caramel-like sensation that rushed her. She’d had some drug resistance training at the academy. Maybe she could overcome this?

“Mmm… Mmn…” Bon Bon’s eyes flashed over at the mirror — she could see that Trunch was pressing more and more of his fat flare into Lyra’s muzzle, now complete with almost comically expanded cheeks.

She had to hurry!

Bon Bon swallowed slightly again as she gently began to press forward further. She quickly realized her mistake — even the light mixture of whatever had touched her lips went buzzing down the back of her throat, bringing that weird buzzing energy with it as it went, a poignant aftertaste to the strong stallion-stink.

It warmed and comforted her gullet, almost like a sip of warm cocoa on a winter’s day.

She brought Crunch’s cock past her teeth. It was painful to have to open her jaw so wide — she’d licked coolers and other toys in her time with various fillyfooler friends, but nothing like this… she wanted to hate the sensation, the feeling of being used, of having her face turned into some kind of… pleasure-hole for a disgusting… stallion.

But it felt… limp.

Weak.

Almost like the raging outrage in her mind was being stirred up on purpose. By her own will. If she just relaxed, let go, maybe she wouldn’t even find it so-

NO! Fight it BON BON!

She blinked again, glancing over at the mirror. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing, the whole flare of a stallion inside her mouth, as he grinned and looked down at her with cocky, masculine superiority.

This wasn’t her! This couldn’t be her! Could it?

Didn’t she hate that sight? That image glaring back from the mirror of her blowing some muscle-bound stud?

She tested herself, scanning her emotion for the boiling outrage she felt… or wanted to feel. It — it wasn’t that crazy, was it? She was doing this for her friend. Not because she wanted to do it! So what if the image was strange — heck, why shouldn’t she even be proud of just what she was doing… for her friend’s sake!

NO NO NO! IT’S SNEAKING IN, IT’S… D-doing… s-something? Is it really doing anything? Bon Bon’s train of thought was just so hard to maintain. Like pouring on that extra energy to sprint at the end of a long race — when everything was just screaming to relax and slow down… to let go…

N-no! It… I… W-well… I don’t like it! Ah… r-right! I hate the taste! Right?

Bon Bon seized on the sudden thought — she needed to prove to herself just how disgusting she found this whole blowjob to be. That taste. She knew she hated that, at least. Along with everything else… whatever all that else was.

But she’d have to remind herself of the taste. She’d need to get her tongue exposed to it, to really make it clear how much she disliked it.

She moved herself a little further forward — bringing more of Crunch into her mouth, making it easier for her to slide her long, pink tongue forward. It wasn’t easy: the fat flare gave little room to navigate in her increasingly stuffed muzzle.

“Mmn… that’s it baby, now you’re getting into it,” Crunch chuckled.

Bon Bon rolled her eyes, frowning internally. The idiot was misunderstanding — she was only licking him to confirm how much she hated having him in her muzzle.

She slid her tongue up against the flat of his flare.

Hot. Just as hot as the inside of a marehood.

Bon Bon always liked just how warm the body heat of another pony felt when she used her skilled tongue — it was nice to know that stallions felt the same way. At least something she could like about this.

N-no! F-f-ocus… the TASTE! The hated taste!

Bon Bon blinked again, remembering why she was now using her tongue, slowly tracing it along the slick, throbbing glans of Crunch’s flare.

Celestia, it was so strong — that powerful, bitter tang.

She’d heard mares talk about it at times when the wine was flowing and their talk would turn lurid and gossipy. Bon Bon would try to avoid gagging visibly when she’d hear them go on and on about their husbands’ or coltfriends’ unique flavors — even sharing tips and diets to change things.

How could any mare ever like… this? This… powerful, aromatic… assault?

She swirled her tongue again, underneath the glans of the flares fat, knobby edge, exploring the smooth junction where shaft suddenly gave way to the huge, girth bulb.

“Oh yeah, right there hun…”

It was more potent in here, Crunch’s… flavor. Its complex hormonal mix of sweat, juice and flesh. Here was where she’d really be able to recall that gross taste, the one that really disgusted her. The one that would prove to her that she still had her wits about her… that she still hated this… thing in her mouth.

She pressed her tongue against the cock harder, feeling the pulsing rhythm of the stallion’s heartbeat right through the vascular walls of his throbbing erection. It reminded her of how her marefriends would squirm and pulse and shake when she’d go down on them — she always loved that, the very biological feeling of being with something alive… this wasn’t so different.

No! It IS… isn’t it? Oh… G-goddesses, help me! The taste! Remember the taste!

Bon Bon desperately slid her tongue around the fat flare one more time, seeking out that rich, pungent taste she’d found moments earlier — but it was gone. She’d already lapped it all up.

She’d have to go back to the source — the drooling cockslit in the middle of the tip of his flare.

Bringing her tongue back there, she quickly found the drooling orifice. More than just trickling out that heady mix of stud-honey, it was pouring it in a constant stream. She slid her tongue against it, letting that unique flavor wash over her taste buds.

Damn! N-no… not the same!

It wasn’t quite as strong as it had been when it was mixed in with his sweat and musk around the ridge of his flare — this was fresh, from the source. Nor was it mixed in with the addiction-juice as the first hit had been… this trickle felt… milder… tolerable.

The warm, oaky splash of hormones didn’t shock or disgust her anymore. They were almost acceptable… piquant, even.

No no no! I need the stronger stuff, the stuff that’ll make me retch!

Bon Bon lapped desperately at the stud’s drooling tip, pulling back slightly so she could try to suckle his flare’s fat urethra like a straw, hoping to get a more voluminous flow of pre that would remind her of her hatred.

As she pulled back, she felt Lyra’s head push back against her.

Lyra!

She’d nearly forgotten: her eyes darted to the side, looking at her friend. The big earth-pony stallion had stepped further forward, taking up the slack that Bon Bon had created for Lyra by letting Crunch into her mouth. Truncheon was going deeper and deeper into the unicorn’s mouth, his comically fat length stretching her jaw as he began to swab the back of her throat.

H-hang on!

Bon Bon swallowed nervously, bringing another flush of warmth to her gut as she imbibed a half-cup full of the highly addictive mix of stud-pre-ejaculate, her own drool, and the terrifyingly effective Quantihol.

Then she plunged forward.

“Oh damn, lady,” Crunch’s affirmative groan came from above her.

Bon Bon’s jaw muscles ached as the pegasus’s cock wrenched her mouth open with its width. His big flare bounced and grinded along the roof of her mouth, trapping her writhing tongue as it slid deeper and deeper into her.

It wasn’t easy, Bon Bon had to use some of the force from Trunch’s thrusts against Lyra, bumping through to the back of her head, to drive more stallion-cock into her completely stuffed mouth.

She felt the hot pink knob bump against the back of her throat, and nearly gagged. She’d never had something lodge itself back there, unless it was a piece of food, or a toothbrush that slipped off her back molars.

But this was a huge, dripping penis. It was nearly blocking her airway.

Her chest heaved once, twice, three times… before she was able to suppress the instinct, breathing through her nose.

Th-there… I stuffed as much as I could down my throat! I didn’t puke. I… I can do this!

Bon Bon felt a small glimmer of pride at her accomplishment. It all felt so odd, confusing — it was hard to keep her priorities straight. It felt like her thoughts were in a fog. Shifting, changing. Ephemeral. Hard to put a hoof on.

“Good girl, babe — that feels great.” Crunch was grinning down at her genuinely.

Bon Bon glared at him through teary, furious eyes. She knew, at least, that she didn’t like this asshole, didn’t need his praise.

She tried to focus her anger on his face, his features. That rugged, masculine jaw. That unkempt manestyle. That cocky grin.

F-focus… focus on what you want to do…! Which is…?

Bon Bon’s thoughts were hazy. It felt almost like she was drunk. The dripping warmth from Crunch’s potent stallionhood was spreading through her now, as if she’d had one too many gin and tonics.

The warmth was nice, though. Dulling. Almost pleasant. And it was coming from his dick.

She knew that her goal had something to do with that. That huge organ of his. She hated stallions — she still remembered that… but his dick? That wasn’t a stallion, that was just a thing.

She felt another push against the back of her head, and her eyes flicked again to the mirror.

Lyra’s throat was starting to bulge obscenely. Truncheon had started to thrust his huge cock down the mint-furred mare’s throat, straining it to the point that the ridge of his penis-flare could clearly be seen.

Damn! That’s it!

The thought quickly returned to her! What she needed to do — no, wanted to do: take more of the pegasus’s cock into her throat.

Bon Bon tried to slide forward. It made her almost start to cough: she’d never tried swallowing anything so large before — her natural inclination was that she was almost choking.

But it actually wasn’t so bad: it was almost… good.

That incredible taste was just pouring out of Crunch now. That warmth.

It felt like all of the sensory cells in her body were unfolding, opening, blooming for the first time to these new chemicals. These masculine chemicals. Little electrical storms sparking in the more primitive parts of her brain as long-shut pathways were wrenched open for the first time — pleasure centers designed to react to the testosterone-laden lust of a stud.

Bon Bon flinched as a familiar shudder overtook her.

She felt her pelvic floor tense and release, twice. Convulsing with powerful, unconscious strength.

Her marehood had just winked.

She never winked. Not even when she was in the throes of passion with a mare, her body was notoriously hard to excite. So much more of Bon Bon’s lovemaking was mental, emotional… not physical.

The waves of the spasm wracked up through her, like a stone thrown into a calm lagoon. As the shudder passed through each part of her, it left warm, happy nerves… receptive, open to more sensation.

She moaned into the cock jammed in her mouth, relaxing around it for the first time. Perhaps it wasn’t cock that she’d really hated all these years… maybe it was just the stallions attached to them?

This stallionhood certainly seemed — pleasant?

F-focus, Bon Bon… remember what you need to do!

Bon Bon grunted and began to push herself deeper onto the cock, spearing more of it against the back of her throat — she had to take as much pressure off Lyra as possible, to take as much of this rugged, delicious shaft into her throat.

She glanced over at her friend in the mirror — Lyra had both her hooves around Trunch’s powerful thighs now: at some point her hooves had come undone… and now she was pulling herself onto the huge erection. She was trying to get more of him!

You need to do that too! Hurry!

Bon Bon’s thoughts were clouded, hazy — it never occurred to her that if Lyra was pulling herself onto the shaft that it would require less effort from her… only that the desperate blowjob the unicorn mare was performing signalled a growing need for her to work even harder.

But the long, girthy penis was simply bashing against the back of her throat, too stiff and wide to make the turn and enter her esophagus.

Bon Bon whined around the cock, plaintively. She needed the big, hulking thing to get deeper into her throat, to start pouring its aphrodisiac nectar directly into her belly. But she couldn’t move her forehooves, they were still bound. She would never be able to get the leverage needed.

She looked up at Crunch, sternly.

Can’t you lend a hoof, jerk?

“Wew! There’s some fire in this lass’s eyes.” He grinned down at her. “Alright lady, you want more of me, I can tell…” He reached down and put one of his large forehooves on the side of Bon Bon’s head, gripping lightly with his underhoof and beginning to slowly leverage additional pressure.

Y-yessss….

Bon Bon groaned as the fat head finally slid past the back of her mouth, curving strangely to begin bulging out her throat. Everything felt hot, burning, strainingwith effort. All her jaw, neck, and throat muscles were sore. Her lungs were starting to burn with the need for more oxygen, her eyes watering as her gut rumbled with a suppressed gag reflex.

But he was in! She was deep-throating him!

“Shit, you’re a thirsty gal.” Crunch chuckled, brushing a stray strand of mane out of Bon Bon’s face as he looked down at her.

That was nice of him. She could see that he really liked looking into her eyes as he slid his hips back and forth, in small, half-inch gyrations.

Not that it mattered. His ‘niceness’. The only thing that mattered was his oversized horsecock. And Bon Bon was winning there — the thing felt like it was embedded so deep in her throat that it was halfway to her stomach!

And yet she could still see inches between her and Crunch’s pink medial ring… at which point his shaft expanded to ridiculously girthy proportions, like a tree-trunk on a mighty sequoia.

“Oh! Oh… fuck. I’ve never had a mare take me so deep.” The rumbling bass from Truncheon flicked Bon Bon’s ears sideways and drew her attention back to the mirror.

Lyra was pumping her face against the earth-pony’s cock. Pivoting and swirling her head, faster and faster. Obscene suckling and squelching sounds were increasing in tempo and volume as Lyra face-fucked herself onto the first third of the bruiser’s studly organ. A waterfall of liquid, likely a mixture of drool, and stallion-juice was trickling from out of the side of Lyra’s stretched lips… and a second waterfall had formed off the side of Lyra’s chair, coming from some other, unseen source. If Bon Bon didn’t have Crunch’s wonderfully potent stallion musk washing over her whole olfactory system, she suspected she might have recognized the source of that second trickle.

Lyra was getting hot.

Oh no! She’s beating me! That little minx! It’s not fair, she has her hooves!

Bon Bon’s eyebrows pinched in frustration. Lyra’s head wasn’t even touching the back of hers anymore — the minty mare was leaning into her blowjob… was leaving Bon Bon in the dust!

Bon Bon grunted, struggling. She tried to push her neck forward, to tilt and twist her head in the same way that Lyra was doing… to inhale more of the fat stallionhood inside her throat. But she simply couldn’t!

“Mmmgh!” She looked up again at her partner, Crunch. She desperately hoped that he might understand her — couldn’t he see that they were losing to the other two? He had to do something.

Crunch was smiling at her in that soft, grinning, cocky way. It wasn’t that Bon Bon disliked a stallion with confidence… particularly one with so impressive a set of genetics of which to be confident about. But she needed him to do something!

She grunted again, shrugging her shoulders and struggling against her bonds.

Crunch saw her movements and nodded, his grin getting wider.

Thank you! Help me to catch-up… help me to take more of your wonderful cock into me!

With a flick of a wing, Crunch released the slipknot holding Bon Bon’s hooves to the side of the chair she was bound to. In an instant, he had just unleashed what were likely the two deadliest weapons in the whole cave system: a S.M.I.L.E. agent’s left and right forehooves.

Yes! Yes! I’m free! Finally! And with these hooves, I can…

Bon Bon’s mind ached, pounding. She held up her two hooves at her sides, just in her peripheral vision. She felt strange again, confused… like she was forgetting something important. She knew her hooves could do something.

For some reason, the target of the bruiser in front of her seemed particularly noticeable. Like an illuminated target on the firing range, ready to be lit up with magical stun rounds. The way he was currently standing over her… his giant cock halfway into her throat… his big balls bouncing between his legs…

There were so many easy targets that would incapacitate him with a single strike.

Why was her mind even thinking these thoughts?

If she hit him — he’d fall down… his lovely stallionhood would pull out of her! She’d lose the delicious nectar that was making her feel oh so alive! The big erect cock might even shrink back into his sheathe… a tragedy! They’d never catch-up to Lyra and Trunch!

No… no! I wanted my hooves so I could grab him… like this!

Bon Bon reached forward, hooking her hooves around Crunch’s powerful, muscular hind-legs… then she pulled.

Shutting her eyes and doing her best to swallow, she started to stuff more of his long pegasus-cock down her esophagus. Bon Bon’s powerful, trained earth-pony muscles immediately slid the last remaining inches of throbbing pink upper-shaft down her gullet, bringing her nose booping against his fat medial ring.

It could go no further, the ring wouldn’t be able to slip past her teeth unless she dislocated her jaw… and even the the rapidly fattening base wouldn’t become any easier.

But she’d caught up!

*Glrk* *Slrp* Glk*

The heavy, slurping sounds drew her eye once again. Lyra was being furiously face-fucked now. Truncheon was helping by pulling with his blocky, muscular forelegs on every stroke, slamming his bulk forward and cramming his fat, black, medial ring so hard against Lyra’s nose that it left a small ripple in her wet nostril-flesh.

Not that Lyra seemed to mind — she was still pulling and twisting and drooling… slobbering all over the stallions merciless throat-assault.

“Uhn… Uh… shit!” Trunch’s mouth uttered something other than the animalistic sounds he’d been making this whole time as a paroxysm of pleasure shook his body. Bon Bon tried to keep her focus between her own inhaling, gulping self-induced mouth cock-shoves, to see just what was happening.

She watched his arms suddenly lock tight, powerful muscles bulging out from under his fur upon those that were already visible — these two really were true specimens of stallion-ly power… throwbacks to their ancient horse-ancestors. His wild mane flew about him, like feathers in a fust of wind, as he threw his head backward, baring his teeth and opening his mouth to start to roar at the ceiling of the mine.

“AaaaRRRGH!”

And as he did, she watched that huge, thick black horsecock of his throb. A pulse of thickening blood racing down it, somehow fattening its already impossibly wide girth. Bon Bon could see Lyra’s golden eyes flash open in sudden worry, as her friend’s muzzle was wrenched open by the sudden onslaught of more raw, unrestrainable cock.

“Aaaargh!”

A second cry — and Bon Bon saw the already ridiculous hoof-sized bump in her friend’s throat expand into something more like a melon. It looked like the mare had tried to swallow a buckball whole!

The worry in Lyra’s eyes was real now — there was no way such a huge obstruction, regardless of which pipe it had gone down, wasn’t occluding any oxygen that would be reaching the unicorn’s lungs. But all the unicorn could do was hold on to Trunch’s thighs for dear life.

His massive, heavy black balls shot up to his groin. Bon Bon could have sworn she almost saw a pulse like bulge sliding down his shaft-length. Like a garden hose when you first turn on the water. The bulge raced down his length, into Lyra’s mouth, down her throat…

And then Lyra’s eyes began to roll back in her skull.

Pulse after pulse shot into the unicorn, disappearing down her gullet. The only evidence left of their arrival was her friend’s adorable tummy starting to fatten and chubbify, pooching out away from her body as it was packed.

The brute was cumming.

Bon Bon blinked, as she suddenly had a brief flash of just what was happening. Her thoughts raced with a new flood of panic: cumming! Like the disgusting white, stinky, jelly fluid that she’d detested so much!

...

Bon Bon had tried stallions of course. During her university days, when she’d been exploratory, she finally settled on one rather polite dormitory friend, a bookish unicorn-colt with wire-rimmed spectacles.

She couldn’t even remember his name now.

Suffice it to say, his fumbling in the dark… his rather unimpressive package… his quickly exhausted stamina… all had simply helped confirm Bon Bon’s instincts: stallions just weren’t for her. It hadn’t been pleasant, but at least the experience had not been horrifying.

Until he’d ejaculated on her, at least.

She could still remember how he’d quickly withdrawn from her body as he approached his climax from bucking her, missionary style. Bon Bon had been laying there on her back, bored and a little bit weirded out by the strange experience, when he’d so quickly pulled out of her marehood, flared… and fired.

The weak, thin spurt had splattered up across her chest, and even across her face and into her mouth!

At that moment, with that pathetic, bitter offering sticking to her fur, the nose-crinkling smell of acorns assaulting her senses… the heavy weight of a sweaty, unwanted colt laying upon her… Bon Bon’d had to withhold a retch.

She hated cum.

…

And here was Lyra, nearly drowning in it.

She could see just how much her belly was filling, as muscle-wracking clench after muscle-wracking clench roiled through the Trunch.

“Hey Trunch, if ya kill the lady… we’re all gonna end up in the slammer, regardless.” The nasally thestral voice drifted in from off behind the bright lights. “Let her breathe, you idiot!”

“Arrghhh… fuck!” He swore, as he began to adjust himself, roughly pulling his tree-trunk of an organ up Lyra’s throat.

As the pulsing head was brought back up into Lyra’s mouth, one of the earth-pony’s heavy ejaculations spilled out from every corner of her lips, and even exploded out of her nostrils.

Heavy, pungent, thick strands of stallion-batter drooled from every part of Lyra’s mouth, overflowing with just one of the many ejaculatory shots Trunch had given her — it looked like she had tried to keep her muzzle over top of a firehose!

And he still wasn’t done!

As he withdrew, his overly-fat saucer-sized flare nearly jammed on Lyra’s teeth, only barely slipping out of the mare’s muzzle with difficulty.

At which point he proceeded to hose her face with a huge, spattering load.

The thick, creamy rope flashed out in a long strand, impacting Lyra’s mane, her face, her neck and chest… it was like he was firing one of those super-soakers all over her.

G-gross… I… I c-can’t…

Bon Bon felt her stomach doing flips. She couldn’t look away from the sight, and yet at the same time she knew that something felt just horrifyingly disgusting about it all.

And yet… It was so different from what she’d received all those years ago in that college dorm-room. This wasn’t some watery-trickle that would struggle to fill a tablespoon…

This was more than a pint of steaming, potent, smelly stallion-cum!

A little splash of Trunch’s finally, flinging rope over-arched Lyra’s mane, landing splatteringly across Bon Bon’s left ear.

Oh Goddesses!

She flicked it back and forth. It felt so… hot on her skin. Not just from the boiling body-heat that was Trunch’s rigid horsecock plumbing… but because her own body seemed to sparkle and excite with the feel.

And the smell!

The whole room just stank of Trunch’s rich, oaky musk. Like cigars and cinnamon, a real stallion’s smell. Bon Bon could feel it oozing through her fur, like a sticky fog attaching itself to every one of her mane strands, being absorbed by her pores.

A-and… I like it?

Where she expected to find disgust, nausea… where she wanted to feel those things… instead there was only a confusing contentment. A dull heat continued to build inside her. The added stink of raw, out-in-the-open stallion essence seemed to be telling her long-dormant reproductive instincts to awake, the power of the Quantihol overwriting all those other neural pathways that had for so long made her sexuality what it was.

She was ready to breed.

The engine of Bon Bon’s femininity was stirring within her, bubbling up like an ancient volcano tube roused by a tectonic tremor. Her lower gut was twisting and churning, deeper than her intestines — her sexual organs thrumming to life. She might have been a fillyfooler, an avowed dick-despiser… but with the help of the spell’s potent effects, her body was quickly reminding her that it was a mare, a female before any such silliness as a personal sexual preference came into play.

Biology overrode psychology.

And with the scent of very fertile studs hanging in the air… it wanted, needed relief.

Bon Bon reached forward, wrapping her hooves around Crunch’s firm, powerful buttocks and pulling herself deeper onto him — driving his long cock as deep into her throat as she could.

M-more, j-just a little more! I’m sure if I just get enough my body will calm down!

Bon Bon’s desperate mind wildly grasped at any reason to explain the nearly automatic impulses she was immediately succumbing to: spearing herself onto her stallion’s drooling length without hesitation, as naturally as she might breathe, or blink.

“Mmmmmmghh….” Bon Bon felt a low rumble bubble up from her gut, a groan of pleasure erupting from deep inside her, unbidden.

Was that me? Oh Goddesses, why does this feel so good?

Her stirring reproductive bio-machinery was bringing its full spectrum of hormonal powers online now, releasing all sorts of pleasure-hormones and adrenaline and serotonin into her already corrupted blood chemistry. Her pounding heart quickly brought the flood of mind-melting toxins to her already addled brain, washing it in a sea of ecstasy-inducing potency that overrode her last defenses.

Bon Bon felt a lightning bolt race down her spine, sending the short-hairs of her coat-hair standing on end. For a moment, she wondered if she’d been tasered as the pulse of nervous shock traced all the way out to her dock, sending her tail lashing back and forth against the chair back.

But then it hit her nethers.

Like the lightning bolt from a rogue thunderstorm off of the Everfree Forest, it quickly branched out into a thousand arching pathways, each one sparking out to a separate nervous centre that controlled some muscle or pleasure nerve-ending in her drooling, overheated marehood.

And then, she came.

It felt almost like a punch to the gut, it hit her so hard. Bon Bon was used to slow, methodical buildups. Sometimes it took her hours to work herself up the required crescendo to actually climax — most of her toys needed to have the ability to plug-in to a wired circuit: she could easily expend packages worth of batteries otherwise. Any partners she’d had over the years had needed to have a lot of patience… and tongue stamina.

This climax, though… it was so… sudden. Powerful. Violent.

“MghnnnaGHGHHHHHH!” Bon Bon’s rumbling groan became a muffled scream, the powerful exhortation barely stifled by the huge gag of stallionhood embedded in her throat. Her whole body wracked with pleasure, her spine contorting back and forth as she rode the waves of euphoric contractions that ferociously struck her.

Her diaphragm sucked in, her respiratory system stunned by the sudden intensity of all of her earth-pony muscles firing with chaotic intensity all at once. It was a vain attempt to supply her with more of the precious oxygen she needed to sustain her higher-order neurological functions, as her vision, thinking, and all of her other senses drifted back into a spotty blur of sensation. All the deep inhale managed to do was to suck in with even more intensity against the fat, long stalliondick almost reaching the bottom of her throat now, constricting against the rigid flesh even more tightly.

“Awww FUCK, bitch! I’m… FUCK!” Crunch suddenly snarled, his body stiffening as he reached down with a free hoof to clench Bon’s mane, almost as if to slow her from taking more of him into her.

Through her hazy, spotty vision, despite the fact her eyes seemed to be rolling euphorically in her sockets, Bon Bon had front-row tickets to the spectacle of Crunch’s orgasm. His big balls, which had been swinging low and proudly just moments before, were constricting. Racing up to clench against his groin.

The already rigid and plump stallion-base throbbed. A huge, heavy pulse of blood seemed to gush into the already terrifyingly large base, popping out huge veins as it raced in an almost garden-hose like bulge along his length, past his medial ring which popped out a further half-inch… and down into the part of his dick embedded in Bon Bon’s quivering throat.

She could feel the fattening penetrator pushing out against her delicate vocal chords, stretching them, straining them… until the pulse finally reached Crunch’s flare.

Suddenly Bon Bon was choking.

It felt like somepony had just unfolded a frisbee in her throat. The already huge knob of his stalliontip blossomed into a huge, erotic flower of masculine pride. The thick, knobby ridge of his cocktip buried itself deep into her throat, securing his cock for the huge dump of stallion-essence racing down it’s throbbing length.

“FUCK!” Crunch’s final exhortation came right as he climaxed.

The first pulse exploded out of Crunch like a can of whipped cream tossed into a bonfire. Bon Bon could only feel the sheer power of the hot, thick blast of his heavy stallion-load as it shot into her stomach.

Her belly instantly felt hot, and full. Like she was chugging one of Sugarcube Corner’s warm egg-nogg specials… faster than chugging even! It was just… sloshing into her!

This wasn’t anything like that weak, watery little trickle she’d had in her college days — Crunch’s orgasm was thick. Like batter. And it didn’t stop… his first pulse had continued for seconds, filling her belly.

Oh Goddesses, help me. Goddesses, why does it feel so… right?

And she was craving every drop of him! Even though his spurting, blasting tip was far below any taste buds, somehow Bon Bon felt she could taste him. Rich, powerful, testosterone laden studliness.

It was like his ejaculatory fluid was some kind of overpowering, mutant virus. The masculine, erotic virules invading all of the cells of her body, making her boil with need as the growing warmth of his cum-fuel spread out in hot tendrils from her rapidly bulging stomach.

And she wanted more of it!

Bon Bon felt the second bulge race down Crunch’s stallionhood, even thicker and more terrifying than the last — it rocketed out of his tip, surging over the trickle of his first shot. Somehow it seemed to be even more potent than the first.

Bon Bon felt her eyes bulge as her belly quickly began to feel overly stuffed. She hadn’t felt her stomach pushing out against her body like this, not since her last hearth’s warming eve dinner.

“Aww… fuck yeah, take it you fuckin’ guardswhorse!” Crunch’s hooves pulled insistently at the back of her head with each new throb of hot, sloshing stallion-cum.

Crunch’s ejaculation was coming fast and furious now, blast after blast as his throbbing releases increased in frequency.

Bon Bon could feel herself overflowing, could feel the level of churning stallion-batter in her belly quickly rising to the top of what her poor little stomach could contain — it burned as it surged up to her throat, like a bad heartburn… it began to choke off her air.

She could do nothing but convulse, her coughing and hacking completely gagged by the thick, spurting flare embedded deep in her trachea.

“Don’t fuckin’ choke her, ya moron.” The nasally Manehattan twang of Dusk Wing floated in from the outskirts.

“Shit.”

Bon Bon felt a surge of discomfort, hidden under the never ending storm-ocean of pleasure as Crunch’s big flare was plumbed out of her throat, straining the muscles and vocal chords as it went.

For a moment, she wondered if it could even get out of her mouth — it jammed there behind her teeth, filling her maw with a fresh splatter of crunch’s seed as he wrested it out from her already strained jaw.

Finally, he was out of her.

A rush of stallion-cream followed the bruiser’s exit as her body expelled the heavy excesses that it simply could not contain. The thick, creamy horse-cum poured from Bon Bon’s mouth and nostrils. She thought she’d been able to guess at the taste before, but actually experiencing it was completely different.

It seemed like it should be disgusting, vile. A bitter, acrid taste of slimy snot-like consistency, just as she’d remembered it from all those years ago….

But that sensation was dim, tiny... like a forgotten memory that pops up momentarily in one’s cortex before fleetingly flashing away. Instead it was replaced by a wonderful, groan-inspiring deep richness that made her swish her tongue back and forth in her maw, trying to re-experience the sheer pleasure of her stud’s taste.

“Fuckin’ fuck.” Crunch groaned, directing the last few spurts of his orgasm over her face.

His final few ejaculations were sticky… almost glue-like. Heavy, ropes of gelatin consistency that marked her mane and trailed down across her snout, painting her with obscene white stripes, before finally abating.

Bon Bon hummed in pleasure, despite herself. For some reason it just felt so… wonderful to be drenched in the stink of her stud’s sexual fluids. Crunch reached forward to wipe off his throbbing and retracting flare with a lock of her mane… and she didn’t mind.

What was wrong with her? Could she fix it?

“Good job, my little broodmare.” Crunch grinned, holding his hoof under Bon Bon’s chin and lifting her up so he could stare deeply into her eyes.

Another ripple of pleasure raced through her — a pulse of throbbing fire as her marehood winked involuntarily at her powerful stud’s compliment and dominating gaze. She’d made him happy with her; that was good, right?

Did she want to fix it?

Author's Note

Author’s Note: A+ work on the narration. It gets the idea of resistance and gradually succumbing to mind control very well. The scene is dark and yet not unbearably so. It’s surprisingly respectful given how brutal chapter 1 of the previous story was. It reminds me very much of how Firesight handles this sort of scene in Unleash The Magic: Nightmare Night.

Good stuff!

AJ Aficionado, Editor