“C’mon now, let’s get to the main event already.” Dusk Wing groaned, shifting her video recorder from one hoof to the other. “My arm’s gettin’ tired and what we’ve got so far wouldn’t even hit the top ten on PornStable.”

Lyra moaned, and reached up to brush the soft strands of her mane. She’d only just caught her breath watching Bon Bon finish off the pegasus-bruiser, and now this bratty little thestral was ushering her off the chair and onto her shaky hooves, hustling her over to a nearby table.

It was hard to even walk over there - all of her muscles felt… woozy. In a good way — ever since her orgasm in the human’s cage everything had just been a blur of blinding, white-hot pleasure for her.

She’d been scared of course, especially when that massive, ancient horse-sized flare had been pushed into her mouth… but very quickly she’d found herself losing herself to it. In only a few strokes, Trunch’s massive earth-pony cock had suddenly taken on an almost mythic perfection in her mind and body.

Every element of it dwarfed the memories of the limited partners she’d had over her life — Lyra had never been a size-queen… in point of fact her favorite coltfriend had actually been the smallest. She’d liked to pretend that his shorter, thinner endowment was similar to what she imagined the average human’s nethers to be like.

She’d even turned down one of Rarity’s blind dates when the fashionista had clandestinely whispered that he was ‘hung like an apple-farmer’. Lyra had never understood why some mares liked walking with an ache for a week… Lyra could tell how ‘lucky’ Roseluck had been simply by how wide her penguin-like gait was the morning following one of her dates.

Not for Lyra, thank you very much... small-sized colts were perfectly fine for her, thank you.

But not anymore.

The huge, hulking body of the earth-pony had hinted at just how… blessed Trunch was down below. But nothing could have prepared Lyra for the sheer log that was the monstrously large stallionhood hanging from Trunch’s belly.

Inches and inches of thick, throbbing-black cock shaft, all tipped by a terrifying dome head. It actually was bigger than her leg!

Lyra thought she was going to die.

And she had — died and gone to heaven.

The painful discomfort had so easily given way to new sensations, new ecstasies. She’d never thought she’d love to be stretched like that. To be violated — face fucked by a ginormous stud. But she did.

And the gift of Trunch’s thick semen, splattering all over her body was even better. She usually preferred her dates (rare as they were — and even rarer those that managed to make it into her bedroom) to leave their condoms on, and she certainly expected them to take care of their own clean-up.

She’d always found stallion-semen to be a bit icky. Smelling way too strong and being a bit too sticky for her tastes.

But this… this stud-seed. She wanted to bathe in it.

Lyra had looked on with jealousy at her friend as she’d engulfed the whole of her partner’s heavy load. Not only did Crunch look like he was a bit more of a prodigious producer, but his less thick size allowed him to actually pour most of his offering into Bon Bon, unlike her own experience, which had been mostly over her face. Lyra’s tongue had managed to lap up a good amount of the thick frosting — forget about finding it off-putting: she couldn’t get enough of it!

Even now, the messy remains that she’d been unable to reach with her long, hungry tongue felt great on her fur… better than any fancy facial-mask she’d ever received at Lotus and Aloe’s spa. It was like her body was just naturally inclined to be coated in the goopy mess of stallionly virility!

“Oh-kay, you’re the boss.” The deep gruff voice of Trunch rumbled like a freight train over Lyra — he even sounded amazing! “Up we go filly!”

“Eep!” Lyra squeaked, as Trunch scooped her up from behind, lifting her up off her shaky muscles and putting the upper half of her body on the wide table. There was a little flutter of pleasure at being so roughly pony-handled by her big, strong stud. The sheer bulk of his muscular forearms seemed to hold enough power to do anything to her. Lift her, squeeze her… pin her down and rut her senseless.

“Ah!” A second chirp of uncertainty escaped her as she reached out with her rear legs, only to find that even extending the tippy-toes of her hooves she couldn’t quite reach the smoothed rock floor of the mine. The table was quite high, leaving her lower half freely suspended in the air. Glancing over her shoulder though, she could see that it was the perfect height for Trunch to throw his big heavy hooves up on either side of her, and buck the everfreeing horseapples out of her.

Goddesses, I’m so hot right now! Why won’t he hurry up? Why won’t he rut me?

“Hurry up, why won’t you rut the little slutty ‘corn?” Dusk’s nasally whine echoed Lyra’s thoughts.

“Don’t you cranky me, batty,” Trunch grunted as he trotted to the side of the table. To Lyra’s dismay it was a side that was orthogonal to her, meaning she wasn’t going to get that big, steaming shaft anytime soon. “I ain’t ready yet.”

Trunch lifted himself up to a standing position, placing his two hooves on the table… before letting his heavy, semi-hard, log of a horsecock flop down across the tabletop.

*THWUMP*

It even sounded bucking huge!

Lyra’s eyes almost crossed over as they stared at the massive sausage just off of her snout. The gigantic black stallionhood wasn’t rigidly full like it had been when it exploded all over her, but it was still plump and throbbing in its semi-erect state.

“Hah, what use is a couple inches more width if you can’t even get it up, chump?” Crunch needled from back near the chairs. He was triumphantly waggling his flagpole, still rigidly hard despite the drenching he’d just given to Bon Bon. “I pumped out twice as much as you and I’m still ready to rock.”

“Quality takes time, feather-licker.” Trunch growled back. “Don’t get too jealous you won’t ever be me.”

“Why would I wanna be you? Only pay-mare that will even let you take her to the hay is Loose-lip Lusty… and she didn’t get that name ‘cuz she squeals to the Guard, if you didn’t know.”

“Buck off, it ain’t like the working-fillies are lining up for you either, ‘gut-spear’.” Trunch huffed.

“Yeah, but at least they let me hose ‘em down. My quantity and stamina are famous. What can they even do with you? Take a picture?”

“Oh, they got lots of other fun things to do with me. Ever heard of log-riding?”

“Like the timber-ponies do?”

“Heh, figures you wouldn’t know.”

“Would you both shut the buck up?” Dusk’s shout was high-pitched, almost a scree. “And would you hurry up and get hard already? What’s a girl gotta do to get some quality hoof-rubbin’ material around here?”

Lyra glanced over at the thestral. She hadn’t noticed it before, but the small bat-teen definitely did look like she was getting a little too into her cameramare role. Her dark wings were extended away from her body, quivering with that pulsing tension that had betrayed many an embarrassingly aroused winged pony. Her tail swished back and forth, high up in the air: it was hard to detect amongst the powerful overtone scents of male sexual fog... but there was another female aroma there, mixed in with those of Bon Bon’s and Lyra’s own fragrance.

Dusk chewed her lip, one of her sharp fangs pressing against the supple flesh of her mouth as she seemed to consider something, then strode forward.

“Oh, what are you doi- ah!” Trunch grunted, as the bat-filly reached out with one of her wings and wrapped it around the heavily-flopped upper shaft of the bruiser's cock, starting to slowly pump the fleshy pole up and down.

“I’ll do it my-fucking-self if I have to…” Dusk swore. Lyra could see, both from the lack of venom in her voice and the way her slit-eyes were laser-locked onto the object of her desire that the little teen wasn’t that upset at the task she’d suddenly taken on.

“Damn Dusky — I thought you told me you’d never fu-”

“I’m not,” Dusk snarled, showing both her teeth as she glared up at Trunch. “What are ya’ kiddin’ me? You seen my hips? You see yer’ buckin’ dick? You think I wanna hobble around in a wheelchair the resta the week?” She opened her mouth, spitting a wet splatter of drool onto Trunch’s cock, letting the last of the salivary lubricant drip off of her long tongue into the blurring movement of wing on penis before continuing. “I’m just gettin’ you hard again… maybe scratchin’ a bit of my own itch while I’m at it — you two fuckers have fogged the whole mine up with this stank.”

Lyra groaned as she watched the thestrals wingtips move along Trunch’s shaft. Her shaft. The flicker in her gut of jealousy seemed to come out of nowhere — only an hour ago she’d been terrified, horrified seeing the big bruiser-pony looming over her… but now that she’d really seen him in all his glory, smelled it, tasted it.

She’d earned the right to call that beautifully huge thing between his legs hers, hadn’t she?

“Mmm, yeah that’s nice Dusky…” Trunch grunted, shifting forward and sliding even more of his dark reddish-black sex-sausage onto the table.

“Hey! Am I gonna get a wingjob too? Even a freaky bat-wingjob would be cool coming from snarky fang-face.” Crunch grinned, waggling his hips and letting his pink stallionhead lightly slap against Bon Bon’s huffing face.

“Tch.” Dusk flipped up one of her free forelegs, giving him the high-hoof before she focused back in on her prey.

Lyra watched as her cock was being stolen right out from under her nose — she could see the blood pulsing back into the thick shaft from the teen’s ministrations. The heavy, arm-thick log of cockflesh jumped and bumped against the cool slate table as each new heavy rush of hot blood pumped from Trunch’s heart back into his loins.

“Shit — this fuckin’... thing is just a mare-wrecker.” Dusk mumbled under her breath, staring at the hoof-sized cockhead as her wing-stroke speed slowed, as she inspected the massive, knobbed ridge more closely. “It’s drenchin’ me just thinkin’ about it ruinin’...” Dusk leaned in, letting her breath wash over Trunch’s tip, “...this whorse’s…” she let her long, pointy tongue unfurl from her mouth and almost drape over the glans, “...too-tight, unicorn-snatch…” The bat’s bright slit-eyed pupils flashed over to glare at Lyra, a teasing mixture of jealousy and challenge there.

The flicker of jealousy in Lyra’s gut fanned into a furious inferno. She was about to steal her stud! Steal the cock that had Lyra questioning every adult decision she’d made that had not led her to finding such a prodigious producer of virility and locking him into her room for months. The bat was about to steal the stallionhood that was supposed to pump her full of more of that ecstasy-inducing batter, in every hole… stuffing her with his lust and filling her with foals!

No!

Lyra’s woozy muscles found a surge of adrenaline pour into them, driven by the biological fury of her competitive feminine womb, which had sensed a threat to the newly discovered ur-male it had chosen to provide the genetic material for her progeny. Her mint-green rear hooves kicked out, catching the edge of the table leg and giving her the leverage that she’d been missing to throw herself forward into the arena of oral competition. At the same time, she threw her forehooves forward in a swim-like motion, trying to grab onto anything that she could latch onto to pull herself more easily to the target area.

That something happened to be the back of a very surprised thestral’s head.

All at once, Lyra and Dusk’s faces came together, with the massive, pulsing, melon-sized cockhead mashed between them.

Lyra’s tongue delighted as it once again acquainted itself with Trunch’s Goddess-blessed taste, swirling her fat pink oral muscle all over his fat knob to slurp up any newly released fluids. But there was a new taste, a new texture she was running into: the thinner, writhing-pink tongue belonging to Dusk Wing.

The thestral teen was still trapped in a state of surprise, all of Lyra’s weight behind her messy mane pulling her against the stallion-cock and into Lyra’s face in some kind of obscene Prench-kiss cock-meat sandwich. She was still stunned, her hooves and wings outstretched in shock, slow to move to extract herself from the strange lip-lock she’d found herself in.

Lyra followed the curving outline of Dusk’s tongue, intrigued by the strange taste and the afterhint of Trunch that remained there. She was a rival, sure… but if she had any of her stud’s essence in her mouth, Lyra wouldn’t hesitate to go in to recapture it! Sliding quickly, Lyra’s tongue found its way to the thestral’s outer teeth, sliding along their dangerously sharp yet exotically foreign surface, before slipping into her mouth entirely.

Hmmm…. Mmmm!

Lyra’s golden eyes flared wide, a new wave of that wonderful realization starting to wash through her, just like it had when she’d first gotten Trunch’s once-terrifying cock-taste in her mouth.

Mares are actually… pretty sexy too!

A whole flood of new feeling thumped in Lyra’s chest. It wasn’t that she’d never had those feelings before… she’d just been kind of… oblivious to them. But now... all those beautiful mares she’d admired… all those passing offers of casual cooler-buddy frolicking… all those hot marebutt plots! Damn!

Why did I never realize just how hot mares were?

The potent Quantihol quickly started to set new targets in Lyra’s mind, even as the thestral-mare finally managed to jam her hooves against the unicorn’s chest and push away, giving her the force needed to leverage herself off of the crazy horse-lady.

“Pah!” Dusk Wing gasped shoving Lyra off of her.

Lyra’s eyes flicked over to Bon Bon, still recovering from her face-painting. Suddenly, all of those subtle cues… all those hints… Bon Bon really wanted her!

“Fuck fuck FUCK!” Dusk cursed, pawing at her tongue and spitting.

And Lyra loved her, too! Goddesses above and below, she’d always thought her roommate was stunningly beautiful: how had she never put two and two together? How had she never realized that the two of them could make such beautiful bedroom-music together? Sweeter than any music she could ever make with her harp.

“It GOT IN MY MOUTH!” Dusk was spitting and hacking, thrashing as she jumped around behind the table, “For sure it did, FUCK FUCK!”

“Calm down!” Quantum huffed, grasping her with a powerful kinetic field. “You probably didn’t get much, just slip on a blindfold and keep your damn mouth shut for once.”

Dusk emitted a strange, scared chirp as she whirled and snatched a blindfold from a nearby pile of… bedroom accouterments. Her hooves scrambled as she scrabbled to put the mask over her eyes, which she was currently holding pinched shut.

“Or you can just open ‘em, join the fun, Dusky.” Trunch chuckled.

“Buck yeah, be good to finally put you in your place: under my belly.” Crunch agreed.

“Shut the fuck up!” Dusk screeched, “I have no intention of bein’ a cock-silly addict, least of all to you two, ya’ fuckin’ fifth-leg havin’ motherbuckers.” She snapped the eyemask down over her face, blocking out any potential visions from invading.

“Aww, c’mon Dusky… how are you gonna operate your camera if you can’t see?” Trunch teased, as he flexed his nethers, causing his huge, once-again rigid stallionhood to arch slightly off of the table in front of Lyra’s muzzle. “Plus you already went through the trouble of gettin’ me hard again, just give in… flip them blinds up.”

Dusk flipped up her wing in a very insulting manner, and stuck her tongue out. “Fuck you.” Lyra watched as she deftly snagged the camera from where she’d dropped it on the floor, hoisting it back instantly and snapping it perfectly on the scene unfolding in front of her. “Bats are perfectly fine at operating without vision, idiot.”

Dusk turned to Quantum, quickly directing her nasally whine to him. “What the buck do I do boss? Ain’t there some kind of cure? Don’t this thing wear off?”

Quantum grunted and shook his head. “It doesn’t wear off, that’s the point. As to a cure, or an antidote… I could only ask Blackheart about it.”

“Where the fuck is that lazy bitch?” Dusk snarled, spitting onto the floor.

“Outside. If she’s even half as cautious as she seems she probably saw the cordon they’ve likely put around our place — I bet she’s halfway to Manehattan by now.”

“Treacherous bitch! She should have her kneecaps busted for this!”

“No, it’s just smart,” Quantum grunted. “In any case, I don’t need half my team fucking the other half in some sort of addicted chaotic orgy — go get some of those gags and masks from the other room.”

“I am so fucked…” Dusk Wing huffed, then turned and opened her mouth slightly, ears pricked forward in a far higher posture of alertness than they had been at any time before. Lyra could almost swear she could hear the tiniest of high-pitched tones, like a slight ringing in her ears… but it quickly diminished as Dusk moved off down the hallway.

“Well, I ain’t waitin’...” Trunch grunted, stepping himself down from the table. His whole penis slowly rose from the cold surface, like a massive meat-spaceship slowly lifting from the surface of Equus. Steaming, sticky drips of his pre-juice stayed attached between his shaft and the table, as the whole hulk of horseflesh pivoted away from Lyra’s vision.

Lyra felt her nethers quiver, an unbidden wink slipping her lovebud out from between her lips and leaving a fresh coat of her own slick honey in anticipation of where her stud was heading next.

“Neither am I,” Crunch grunted, patting Bon Bon’s cheeks with his rigid pink penis once again, as if to rouse her from her stupor. “C’mon already…” Tired of waiting, he simply flicked one of his wings, spilling Bon Bon from the chair she was still lollingly lounging in. She managed to catch herself on all fours, her head staring back at the pegasus who’d just dislodged her. But she wasn’t looking back with anger…

It was devotion.

Lyra licked her own lips, seeing the sheer bubbling admiration glinting in Bon Bon’s blue eyes. It was so cute to see her best friend in such a state!

The once-stolid secret agent was purring as she flicked her tail back against Crunch’s groin, trying to slide the side of her hip against his crotch.

“C’mon c’mon, horny little whorse… over to the table.” Crunch chuckled, ushering her with a wing.

*CLUMP CLUMP*

Two huge, heavy hooves slammed down on either side of Lyra’s head, quickly bringing her focus back to herself. It was the first time she’d seen Trunch’s hooves up close to get a sense of the size of them. They were like two boulders — heavy, massive and sturdy. She was surprised they hadn’t shattered the rocky surface of the table. Lyra’s own forehooves looked tiny next to them, like a newborn comparing its hoof breadth with its proud parents.

Their foals would be big.

Lyra grinned, contentment coming over her at the thought of the strong, robust genetics she was about to propagate. It was like a whole new consciousness had been activated in her mental core, powered by a circuit hard-wired right into her womb.

And if his hooves are that big…

*Thwap!*

“Ahhn!” Lyra couldn’t hold out the sultry moan of surprise as she felt the hot, heavy, wet weight slap down against her back.

Trunch had let his huge stallionhood fall onto her spine.

It reminded her of the time during winter-wrap up when she’d had to carry wooden logs without the use of magic. Trunch was that massive and huge! But unlike the log, covered in wet snow and grating bark… this log was smooth, sticky-hot, and throbbing with life.

Lyra curved her spine, trying to adjust to its size and shape. The thing reached almost up to her shoulder blades! And it would be wide enough to rest on both at the same time! A shiver at the scary-exciting thought of just how impossibly deep and wide Trunch could break her open rippled through Lyra, painting the thin fur over her spine with the drooling wetness coating Trunch’s pride.

“Oopsie daisy…” Lyra’s eyes flashed forward briefly, catching sight of Crunch similarly lifting Bon Bon up onto the table, at the edge across from her. The two were close now, their faces only separated by a couple of hooflengths.

“L-lyra…?” Bon Bon’s blue eyes seemed out of focus, one of her irises partially twisting into a heart-like shape.

“Mmmhmm… Bon-ah!” Lyra’s response was cut off as she felt the heavy weight begin to drag slowly back down her back, as her stud shifted his hips and mass over top of her, repositioning himself.

A wet snail trail of his copious, burbling, heated fluids was left in the furrow of her spine and lower back as his gigantic cockhead bounced down every vertebra with tantalizing reminders of sheer mass.

Lyra felt the pull of her damp, drenched tail hairs as Trunch pulled further back, needing to adjust his forehooves to get more room. He easily flattened her excited, rigidly erect dock… though her tail quickly sprang back up into a fully flagged position as his tip finally began to slowly slide down her plot.

Oh! Oh GODDESSES! He’s huge!

The wet kiss of cocktip against the flat of her under-dock felt like someone was pressing a warm, wet, melon against her backside; he was so large. She squirmed uncomfortably as the fat knob slid over her tight green ponut, a ridiculously impossible notion with their contrasting sizes… Lyra hoped he wouldn’t stop there… she needed him inside her marehood. Needed to try at least!

And then he had aligned himself.

The embrace of hot, winking-pink marehood against the drooling, throb of stallionhead was more passionate than any kiss-scene of a Las Pegasus produced love-flick.

“Ah!” Both Trunch and Lyra groaned as one, his low rumble echoing through her.

The press of his hot, boiling hoof-sized hunk of cockflesh against her marehood, already winking as wide as it could to expose every bit of its hot, hidden interior pinkness sent a second shiver through Lyra’s body.

He’s SO much bigger than me!

His massiveness entirely engulfed her tight little pussy — it was like holding a buckball over a sink drain and hoping somehow you’d be able to fit it into the far narrower aperture. By Celestia’s mercy, Lyra could feel Trunch’s width against each of her hipbones… at the same time!

Forget about whether her plot would be able to accept this massive hunk of a stud-stallion… she wasn’t sure if her skeletal structure would be able to accommodate him!

But that wasn’t stopping Trunch.

A hot, heavy blast of air from his nostrils washed down over Lyra’s head as he exhaled a heavy snort… and then pushed.

“AHhhhhn!” Lyra moaned, instinctively trying to shift her hips under the sudden onslaught of pressure, but quickly finding that she had no room to maneuver against the barricade of the table. She was pinned, sandwiched between the unmoving heavy furniture… and the behemoth-sized prod of meat thrusting against her marehood.

At first Trunch’s head simply smushed up against her backside, the knurly knobs of his coronal ridge pressing as much against her glutes as against her dripping sex — but… as she felt another clenching wink of her vagina blow a grasping kiss at the invader, the dome-shaped protuberance of the center of his head slid into the wet furrow of her steaming pussy.

“Ohhh!” Lyra’s head tilted up in response, as she felt the hot, burbling tip at the very exterior of her marehood. “Mmmn!”

She’d never felt anything like this before, not with even her most memorable partners… even those that had come highly recommended from her friend Roseluck. Lyra felt like she had such clarity of perception from every fibre in her sex — a granularity of sensation that nearly overwhelmed her mind.

It was almost like she could taste the hot squirts of pre-ejaculate that Trunch’s splurting urethra was slopping into her, adding to the waterfall of lubrication that would not be nearly enough to ease the impossible connection they were attempting.

A second thrust, harder, longer and more insistent.

“Ah ah… AH!” Lyra’s yelps came as she felt the strain of her marehood being stretched open. With Trunch’s tip plowing the way forward, guiding the quickly blossoming flare into its boiling target, it was now a simple matter of the force of his spearing stallioncock against the remaining tension of her tight, grasping fillybits.

Quickly, Lyra felt her slick pink inner labia pressed out to their uttermost. Her stud’s thickness now began to spread and stretch her plump outer-lips, unrolling them further and further as more and more of him pushed into her.

But it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough!

This must be what foalbirth feels like! Oh, I’ll have so many of my stud’s foals!

The sting of her powerful vaginal floor muscles being taken to their limits… and beyond… was intermixed with the sheer, blinding pleasure of being entirely and completely overwhelmed by the raw masculine presence of her lover.

The Quantihol’s effect had awoken ancient, thrumming biological drives in the unicorn mare ™genetic instructions that had lain dormant since the days when ponies had been horses on the ancient plains of Equus. These powerful sexual selection imperatives had only a single, overpowering message: stronger, bigger, harder makes stronger, bigger, better foals.

Lyra’s mind was entirely awash with the raw need to take her stud’s horsecock.

“Mmmngh!” Despite the strain, Lyra pressed back against Trunch’s thrust, arching her rump upward and pushing her hips to add more force to the already intensely pressured conjunction of stallion and mare.

A powerful whinny filled the room, as Trunch snorted and stomped with one of his forehooves, before bucking forward with his lower body. The sheer power of his lungs and diaphragm letting out such a tremendous, feral roar assaulted Lyra. Her whole body shook with the force of his half shout… and she felt her body thrum in response.

He’s so… strong… so big… so… sexy!

A bolt of pleasure screamed out of Lyra’s brain, firing through her in both directions — one sending a shower of greenish-golden sparks from her horn… the other racing down her spine and sending muscles all over her body into riotous convulsions as she orgasmed.

And her desperate marehood opened just a fraction more.

OOF!

He was in her.

His massive, melon-sized, cockhead was in her!

It was only the head of his huge, fat log of a cock, and yet Lyra felt more full than she’d have ever imagined possible. Her marehood was stretched to its utmost, the hot, dark-pink walls of her opening canal pressed wide by the dark-red cockflesh embedded in it, as squirts of their combined juices ran out of her in gossamer streams of the end of her extended, fat, clit.

She could feel the wedge of cock inside her, pressing against her pelvic structure, re-arranging her guts, forming a wide bulge in the mons-pubis just below her crotchteats as he small body did everything in its power to admit the oversized male.

But Trunch wasn’t happy to just dip his tip… he was burying his bone.

“Ahnn… f-f… fughhh…” Lyra’s words were dying on the tip of her sloppy, uncoordinated tongue. She didn’t have enough spare mental cycles for speech processing with the sheer sensation as Trunch began to slide inch after inch of his meat into her body.

With the thick cockhead in, there was little to stop his spearlike follow-up thrust.

The huge wall of sheer stallionhood plowed through her insides, wrenching open parts of Lyra that had never been touched before by any stallion or toy.

Seven inches, eight… nine…

Lyra’s head lashed left and right as the trickle of magic spurting from her horn finally died down. Aside from the thrilling pleasure of her deep vaginal tunnel being wrenched apart, she could feel her body stretching and shifting, nearly splitting as the bulge of Trunch’s studliness went deeper and deeper into her.

Every vein, every bump, every knob of his pulsing, thick meat left its unerasable mark in the wet, soft folds of her vaginal wall… like some kind of strange, erotic scanning device.

Ten inches, eleven… fourteen and still counting.

“Ooof!” Lyra half-coughed, as a sudden buck from Trunch drove three inches of pure, pulsing, penis into her in a moment, driving the air from her lungs.

There was so much of him inside her now, deep inside her core. It felt like he’d taken over, invaded, replaced her essence. This stud had claimed her very centre, spiritually and physically.

“Ahnn!” Lyra squeaked her ears folding back as the fat knob reached a now deepwater mark inside her, brushing against that hidden, almost legendary gate that only the ‘luckiest’ of mares ever had occasion to mention when tittering with their friends.

Her cervix.

The gateway to her womb, to the very core of her feminine essence. Trunch was knocking against it with all the force of a locomotive pushing against a container car, battering it with sheer power.

Dimly, Lyra’s mind recalled some highschool biology, sex-ed classes that had made the mares giggle and the colts blush. Her teacher had mentioned how it was certainly possible for a colt to reach his filly’s uterus in certain positions… but that it was quite unlikely…. Needing a rather prodigious genetic blessing for Celestia to be possible. But if it did happen, the teacher had noted, with a wry grin, the equine body actually could permit a stallionhood into the womb for direct access… for the very lucky mare.

Lyra wasn’t sure if she felt lucky in that moment, more a mixture of terrified and excited.

Trunch’s huge cockhead had barely slipped past her out marehood, how would it ever make it past her cervix?

It seemed impossible. But Trunch was certainly trying…

And some strange, desperate part of Lyra wanted him to succeed.

“Fuck filly, you’ve taken more of me than any mare since I was a blank-flank,” Trunch’s throaty growl rolled down over her from above.

Lyra looked up to see the bruiser smirking down at her with admiration, “Last time I buried my bone to my ring, I was a fresh-faced grade school colt.” Lyra’s eyes twinkled back up at her lover’s praise. She could feel the huge bump of flesh pressing against her fully strained marehood: she’d assumed that it was his hilt, not the donut-like medial ring that separated a stallion’s upper two-thirds from the thick, expansive tree-trunk of their cockbase.

“You’re a sexy little minx, ain’tcha?”

He leaned his head down, opening his mouth and letting his big tongue loll out of his mouth. For a moment, Lyra was struck again by just how much bigger the stallion was than her, it seemed almost as if he could have enclosed his open mouth around her whole head. Instead, his huge tongue laid a massive, languid lick across her face.

The stink of his breath, the heavy drool of his love-lick, the warm wet embrace of his tongue against her muzzle. It was so… grossly erotic. Coating her in his saliva.

Lyra shivered, clenching and writhing around his huge dick.

“Fuck! Brave little bitch, huh?” Trunch grimaced, eyes fluttering at the sensations being transmitted through to his cock. “Well, you got me all fired up with the memory of hilting my grade-school principal… I think I wanna feel a mare’s ass against my hips again… what do you think, babe?” Trunch rocked his hips forward with his question, pushing once again against Lyra’s cervix.

Lyra’s big eyes were lost in Trunch’s dominant, powerful male gaze. She wanted more than anything to please him, to get that praise from him again, another kiss, another lick… and more of that massive, stallionly dick.

She nodded.

“Good girl.”

Trunch thrusted.

Author's Note

I’m sure Dusk getting the horny potion in her mouth isn’t going to wind up really fucking her later. I’m sure of it! THis right here is my favorite chapter by far. I am madly in hate-love for Dusk Wing.

Amazing interplay between the goons and their capo. The humor was definitely on-point and I found myself pretty turned on the entire time!

Aj Aficionado, Editor