Sundays for Spike were restful, mostly. Almost every mare in Equestria agreed that Sunday was Celestia's day to do with as she would, and therefore every stallion in Equestria was hers and hers alone for the taking. For most of Equestria's stallions this meant they could go about their business unaccosted.
For the Royal Guard it meant the hardest day of the week as the solar and now the lunar princesses fucked, sucked, stroked, and poked their way through the entire castle staff male and female alike. Each week the sisters would compete to see how far into Canterlot they could work before midnight. Magic spells beyond telekinesis had been banned, of course, after Luna summoned a tentacled demon of lust that rendered the entire city immobile in an event known as the White Tide.
But everywhere else in Equestria was generally calm and quiet. Then came Monday.
Rainbow Dash liked to toy with him. She would only pounce if she was sure he didn't know where she was. Over the years she'd gotten him in nearly every alley of Ponyville. She'd yanked him up into clouds. She'd pulled him off under market stalls. Today she got an early start as he blew his first load down her vacuum of a throat as he awoke.
And then his day started.
Rainbow Dash needed constant 'encouragement' for the simplest things. Cleaning her house? Better kiss her with enough tongue to choke a cat. New trick? She obviously deserved to be eaten out. Finished her weather patrol early? Better blow a load in her backdoor.
She was exhausting in more ways than one. Then came the evening. Rainbow was almost as bad at cooking as Twilight, so Spike would have to prepare the meal wearing his frilly pink 'Kiss The Cook' apron. That is, if Dash didn't ruin her dinner drinking from his masculine tap.
Bedtime cuddles were the most relaxing part of the day. Until Rainbow started snoring like a pair of rusty horseshoes chopping through a hardwood forest.
Tuesday mornings would find him in Sweet Apple Acres. Usually somewhere near the farm house, but often dropped off at the corner of the farm nearest Dash's house when she was feeling lazy, which was often.
Applejack was no-nonsense in her actions. She'd pick Spike up from wherever he was dropped off, slob on his knob until he was hard as a rock and then strap him to her back end, his dragonic equipment tightly ensconced in her ever shifting pony pussy.
You would think farm work would be difficult with a dragon lodged nine inches inside a mare, but Applejack was a patient and at this point masterful farm mare. Each step would stroke one side of Spike's dick, each buck would squeeze his entire dick like Applejacks pussy was literally trying to milk it like a cow's udders.
If Applejack hadn't milked a load out of Spike by lunch then she would usually fuck him properly right afterward. Then would start the second half of the day. If they were working with Big Mac or Granny Smith they would work together until dinnertime. But if it was just Applebloom, Applejack, and Spike things could get... Heated.
Applebloom had, at some point, developed a bit of a crush on Spike, and was determined to steal him away from the mane six and keep him all for herself. So the day would progress with Applebloom attempting more and more obvious ways to get a rise out of Spike's dragon until he inevitably popped a stiffy. Applebloom would pounce, using every trick in the book to make him cum as quickly as she could.
Inevitably, though, Applejack would catch them, knock Applebloom off her 'horse' and suck Spike's load down her greedy throat before telling them both to stop messing around and get back to work.
The evening would be spent clapping apple cheeks until Jacky's pony pussy and plot were filled enough for the pair to fall asleep.
Wednesday was Pinkie's day. Pinkie liked drugs. Scratch that, Pinkie fucking loved drugs. Ecstacy, roofies, LSD, cocain, you name it she had it, had done it, had gone to rehab for it, and had come out with a healthy respect for it... before doing it again.
The walk from Sweet Apple Acres to Sugarcube Corner was one of the main times when Spike's orderly week could be interrupted. Depending on the season and weather there could be between one and ten mares between the two locations. Lyra and Bon Bon being a staple of the walk. The two mares would jog up to and just past him from behind before slowing to a walk, letting their sweaty back ends sway in front of his face.
They would glance back and giggle but normally Spike was still recharging from the late night fuck-fest to pop a boner. On the rare occasions that he did the pair would tag team his thick dragon cock with their sinful mouths for exactly ten minutes.
If he blew his load he'd find himself helping in a different candy shop or acting as 'inspiration' for the quirky mint unicorn.
If he managed to get past them he would inevitably come across Mayor Mare. The mayor would always gently admonish him for not having an escort while she hoofed him off. By that point in the morning he'd be recharged enough that resisting the mayor was a real challenge.
Most days he could keep his boiling hot load in his balls. But some days... Some days he spilled his seed on the ground and seed is more important than gold in Equestria. That meant a day in the Bad Colt Stocks.
Head and hands locked into a wooden stockade at the perfect height to eat mares out. Feet shackled back and apart so that his ass stuck out. A scale set down at his feet. On one end an empty bowl, at the other a set of weights, one gram for each infraction that year, to be reset to zero at Winter Wrap Up. Each and every mare in town was encouraged to help him with his 'rehabilitation'.
Some mares would stuff his snout into their snatches and get off on his tongue and fangs. Others would use his tail to satisfy themselves. But most would come for his ass. Visitors would use the city provided strap-ons. Locals of course had their own in a variety of sizes and shapes. They would fuck him mercilessly, bludgeoning his prostate to a chorus of moans and panting breaths until cum dribbled in a stream from his cock like a broken fountain.
But they weren't the worst. No, the worst were the mares that insisted on sucking him off, or worse yet crawling under him and stuffing their hungry snatches with his life giving cum, allowing only the smallest amount to dribble into the bowl. Spike wasn't allowed out of the stocks until the bowl weighed more than the weights that represented his 'infractions'.
In the spring he could be out in a couple hours. In the winter it could take days. The first year Twilight had had to set up a fucking machine the week before Winter Wrap Up that would fuck his ass with one prong while it stroked him with another so fast that he was kept in a near constant state of orgasm for four days straight.
But he wouldn't be going into the stocks today. Spike's precum dribbled and foamed as Mayor Mare stroked him but he didn't cum.
So he made it to Sugarcube Corner. Of course, stepping into the building is the last thing he remembers before waking up in Pinkie's Party Dungeon. It's a pretty cool place for the most part. Bright colours, lots of party supplies and filing cabinets. Spike is, of course, in the 'adult party corner' where things like paddles, whipped cream, lingerie, and riding crops are positioned.
Pinkie's constant optimism tended to stress her out around three in the afternoon, which is when she would take her break, grab the sugariest treat that hadn't sold during the lunch rush and come down to the basement to ride Spike pillar. And she would bitch. She would complain about how the Cakes ran the shop, she would bitch about annoying customers, she would whine about how no stallion would look at her pudgy body even though she bounced around town like a ten bit whorse.
Spike would have consoled her in what he thought of as their weekly therapy sessions but he was usually gagged and/or on some hardcore drugs. When the fifteen minute break would start to draw to a close Pinkie would ramp up her frantic fucking to near superequine levels until she came like a firehose all over Spike's lower body before happily pronking out of the basement.
Ten or so seconds later, once the feeling returned in Spike's lower half he would spray ropes of cum. There was even chalked out measurements that measured the distance his spooge reached. He still hadn't beaten his ten meter (32 feet) best but he had high hopes for next month.
After work Pinkie would begin testing new candy flavours on Spike. Sometimes she's smear it on his abs, sometimes his ass, more often than not some would get on his dick. Pinkie always says that every flavour can be improved with a little spicy dragon pre.
He couldn't cum, of course. That would ruin the flavour. Until she brought out the ice cream, then he'd have to cum over and over again to see how each one tasted 'glazed'.
Sleep would claim them both curled up in Pinkie's bed hours after the moon rose.
Thursday was Rarity, and Rarity was a mixture of boring and intense. For you see, Rarity was really, really kinky. She went far and beyond what anypony else would consider normal that should anypony else find out about her fetishes she'd probably be run out of the small traditional town.
Rarity liked to be dominated.
She'd start by picking Spike up from Pinkie and running any errands she needed to do that day. She usually brought along an outfit for Spike to wear for the day. Usually something revealing and covering in all the right ways to make every mare that saw him walking alongside her drool and pant.
Once back in the boutique Rarity liked playing a fun little game she called 'come and take him'. First she would tie her little Spikey Wikey up somewhere in the public part of the boutique. Then she would strap a couple vibrators to his dick and balls and set them to vibrate for exactly three minutes and ten seconds before turning off for fifty seven seconds. The exact timing had taken nearly a year to figure out, but once set up Spikey would be on edge and dripping with fluids all day. Why, it would take little more than a single lick to make him go off.
So all another mare had to do to take him away from Rarity would be to find him. She'd hide him in various places and mares would surreptitiously look for him and claim him. Few ever did, leaving Spike to languish at the edge of orgasm all day. Sweetie Bell had found him once by accident. Not that she didn't enjoy her prize, sitting on his face for nearly an entire afternoon while she and her two friends relived their younger days by pretending to try to find their cutie marks for dragon dick sucking.
Then came time to close up shop. Rarity would let him down, though he was forbidden from touching his aching, pulsing cock all through dinner. But once Rarity's door closed all bets were off. Gone was the strong independent mare and the cute dragon boy. Now they were but predator and prey.
Makeup would run as Spike fucked Rarity's throat. Screams were heard when he slapped her ass and pounded her pussy. All in all a good night was had by all, and it was a great way of working off some latent aggression that Spike might have picked up over the course of the week.
Friday is Fluttershy's day and for the most part it's pretty normal. Fluttershy can't do the do if anyone is watching, even the person she's doing it with, meaning Spike is either face down or wearing a blindfold when nighttime comes around, but once the stars were overhead and the blindfold was secure Fluttershy was just as voracious as any other mare, if a bit less adventurous.
Mostly she liked her breeding fantasies. Holding a big, strong stallion down and making him breed her over and over again until she was fat with foal. With no other way to sate herself during most of the week Fluttershy had to squeeze an entire weeks worth of sexual energy into the four hours between finishing with her animals and when she needs to get to sleep. That, of course, means that she tries to squeeze a weeks worth of cum out of Spike in the same time. Sometimes she almost succeeds. Before he passes out, anyway.
Saturdays Spike finds himself back home and under the watchful gaze, hooves, and dripping pussylips of his mom/sister/boss.
Twilight always wanted to experiment. New positions, new fetishes, new erotic spells to cast. One week he'd be cumming buckets nonstop, the next he'd be denied for an entire week due to a spell.
They'd fucked as manticores, zebras, hippogriffs, and fauns.
They'd fucked on mountains, in rivers, on trains, and in Neighpon.
They'd fucked on table, on benches, and even riding a spawn... of Tartarus.
They'd even fucked with the lights on!
But as the pair lay in bed at the end of every week, as the moonlight glistens on their cum soaked bodies they always turn to each other and say, "I love you."
Author's Note
So this is just something that popped into my head that I had to get out. Before some of you ask, no, I'm not back. My muse is too fickle to let me promise anything. I am working on a new story, but due to my other stories languishing in cancelled territory because my inspiration left me I'll not be posting a single chapter of my new stuff until all of it is complete. Might end up collaborating with one or more authors to get it done.
Anyway, hope you liked this.
