Chapters It was pretty uncommon for Leech to travel to Canterlot, since it was neither a cheap nor short trip, but she’d recently made a windfall of bits from some questionable investing. The train ride had been long and boring, with perilously little to keep her occupied, but she eventually found herself in the resplendent capital. With her trusty satchel hung from her shoulder, and a to-do list of sights to see and places to visit, she traipsed off of the passenger car and into the bustling metropolis.
While she wasn’t normally one to visit bigger cities, having had a number of unfortunate experiences in the past, there were things she simply couldn’t find living in a podunk little village. Everything from upscale eateries to high-end adult shops awaited her, but there was one particular place she’d been dying to see - the Zebrican embassy.
She’d crossed paths with a handful of zebras in the past, all of which being exceptionally pleasant, but she hadn’t seen or spoken with one in ages - as such, she figured it would be nice to give their consulate a look-see. Though being distantly related to ponies, the striped equines had a rich, unique culture that she’d always been curious about. Besides being a new addition to the city, the consulate was supposedly haunted by one hell of an attractive ambassador, which only heightened her curiosity.
Fishing into her bag, retrieving a bottle of water and a granola bar to snack on, she trotted her way through the metropolis and towards her destination. One thing she particularly disliked about larger towns, besides the hustle and bustle, was that everyone was so impersonal. Throughout her nearly mile-long hike from the train station, not a single pony smiled or waved at her, despite her warmly greeting and nodding to a few denizens; though it was a bit disheartening, she did her best not to let it get to her.
With the sun gently setting in the west, basking the city in the warm glow of evening, the street lamps steadily went alight. She hadn’t reserved anywhere to stay - then again, that wasn’t really a concern. With a number of hotels scattered throughout the settlement, she felt sure she’d find lodging at a reasonable price without too much trouble. Traipsing down the sidewalk, she spotted the embassy ahead.
Though there was nothing obviously marking the building, a Zebrica flag hung just beside the front gate - the front gate which was closed and, if she had to guess, locked. She honestly hadn’t given any thought to the embassy having public hours, though it did make sense. The place was an official consulate, not some convenience store - still, they couldn’t be too angry if she gave the place a peek.
Straying by one corner of the walled property, surreptitiously scanning the area for any onlookers, she innocently stretched her arms over her head. The second her fingers grazed the top of the brick barricade, she secured her grip, sprang upwards, and hopped over the imposing barrier. She’d hopped taller fences in the past, making the task almost laughably easy, but she hoped nobody had spotted her.
Landing within the grounds, hastily taking stock of her surroundings, she marveled at the number of foreign plants about the place. She was familiar with a wide array of native Equestrian vegetation, what with regularly spending her free time in the woods, but a lot of the flora was unfamiliar. Creeping up to a particularly gorgeous bush of flowers, leaning towards one of the vividly colored blossoms, a clearing throat caught her ear.
“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you, unless you wanted to have a small seizure,” a sonorous voice entoned, causing the unicorn mare to go rigid.
He’d first seen her shortly after she’d let herself into the compound, though her motives were yet to be seen. Given her casual attire, lack of equipment, and carefree demeanor, he was left to assume she meant no harm, yet her actions were either exceptionally brazen, foolish, or possibly both. Walking towards her, keeping a dozen paces between them, he waved at the shrub.
“That particular flower has a strong paralytic effect, so I’d be cautious,” he added, watching her shy away from the plant. “Now then, if I may have the name of our uninvited guest…”
While Leech had been startled by the sudden and wholly unforeseen introduction, her surprise gave way to a stunned silence. Standing before her, adorned in a simple loincloth and holding a long-stemmed smoking pipe, was a striped angel. Tall, powerfully built, and with a mohawk trailing from his crown to his neck, the stallion was an adonis. Though she realized he’d asked her something , the question went in one ear and straight out the other.
She had no earthly idea why he was wearing something so scandalous, but she wasn’t about to complain. From his sculpted calves and power thighs to his six-pack abs and broad, chiseled chest, the guy was an absolute stud . By the time her eyes settled on his grinning face, with her mouth already watering, she’d completely forgotten that she’d been trespassing.
“Do we not have a name?” he mused, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. “Or perhaps you’re unable to speak.”
Attempting to ascertain his guest’s motives, he studied the stricken mare. Her garments were simple, comprised of a pair of decidedly short shorts and a very snug t-shirt, though she was traipsing around barefoot. Between the ill-fitting clothing and lack of footwear, he was left to assume she was destitute, yet he may have been mistaken. Her garb, while somewhat unconventional, wasn’t what primarily held his interest - her figure was.
Relatively short, with a black coat and white marking over her muzzle and upper face, her snowy mane and tail made her appearance rather striking. Outside of her interesting monochromatic color scheme, she sported a modest bust and strikingly large hips. He had no way of knowing if she was a mother, but he felt certain that she was more than capable of carrying and delivering a healthy foal.
“Well,” he pressed, meeting her violet, cat-like eyes, “what is it, mute or mum?”
“Leech,” she blurted, recognizing she had to say something , “the name’s Leech.”
He gave a curt bow, though not deep enough to take his eyes off her. “Ambassador Mkuu. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
The mention of ‘meet ’ crossed a logical wire, bringing her attention to his barely veiled loins. “P...pleasure to meet you too,” she sputtered, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m not in any trouble am I?”
“That depends,” he chuckled, taking a step closer. “Was there a particular reason you decided to intrude on embassy grounds?”
“The gate was locked and I wanted to look around,” she admitted, her shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I know, I should have just come back tomorrow, but-”
“And did you try the gate?” he interrupted. Walking through the garden, towards the barred entryway, he motioned for her to follow. Peeking over his shoulder, ensuring she wasn’t far behind, he reached the gate, turned the handle, and swung it open. “Our grounds are always open, be it for our citizens or visitors alike.”
The mare facepalmed, cementing his suspicions. She clearly wasn’t the scholarly sort, although her actions smacked of resourcefulness and initiative - even if they weren’t clearly thought out. Smiling to himself, amused with his visitor, he trotted over and extended a hand. With little else to do that evening, he saw no harm in getting to know his intrepid and unexpected company.
“So you’re not going to call the cops on me?” she softly inquired, cocking her head.
“Call the authorities on a bold and beautiful mare like yourself?” he gasped, feigning shock. “Perish the thought - if anything, I would be honored to give you a tour.”
His mention of beautiful set her heart aflutter, and sent blood rushing to her nethers, but she maintained her composure. Whoever the guy was, he was drop dead gorgeous and a flatterer - just the sort of stallion who could and, if she was lucky, would sweep her off her feet. Daintily taking his hand, smirking up at him, she had to force herself not to fawn over him.
Walking at his side, as they made their way into the building itself, she cleared her throat. “Sooooooooo,” she began, slipping a glance at his gently fluttering loincloth, “is that your formal-wear or casual-wear?”
“This,” he quipped, nodding down at the flap of leather, “is the traditional garb of my people. Most of Zebrica is hot and quite arid, so our attire reflects that. We actually have an exhibit regarding our apparel, both the usual and ritualistic, which I’d be happy to show you.”
Grinning from ear to ear, Leech waved him forward. “By all means, lead the way!”
Side by side, the two entered the foyer of the embassy. As Leech was quick to discover, the place was massive . Serving as both a consulate and home to the staff housed there, the building held all the creature comforts. From offices and conference halls to bedrooms, no fewer than two kitchens, and an expansive lounge, the facility was equipped to entertain both guests and employees alike.
True to his word, towards the end of his guided tour, Mkuu showed the mare to a display of native arts, tools, and garments. A number of outfits were presented on mannequins, showing how they would actually sit on one’s frame, but one ensemble immediately caught her eye. One dummy wasn’t like the others, wreathed in gold and fine silk.
“Ok,” she chirped, turning to her host, “I have to ask about this one.”
The getup was as provocative as it was dazzling. Slender golden chains hung over and beneath the model’s chest, with bangles and anklets about its limbs. A jeweled peytral hung over its neck, stopping just over the bust, though the bosoms were left almost entirely exposed. The only fabric on the garment, if it could be called that, was a long strip of gossamer thin cloth. In short, attire was both the most expensive and slatternly garment she’d ever seen.
“Ah, you have a fine eye! This was the garment of a past king’s favored consort; while it isn’t by any means common attire, more than likely belonging in a museum, I’ve always had a fondness for it,” Mkuu explained, beaming down at the mare.
Though his smile was genuine, there was another reason behind giving her another look. Truth be told, he’d paid a hefty sum for the ensemble, before he’d left his homeland, and he’d hoped to see it put to use. Being without a regular lover, he was relegated to occasionally relieving himself with mares in the capital. It wasn’t like he held anything against ponies, though he knew he would only ultimately romantically court a female of his own kind.
Native Equestrian mares were pretty cute, and a select few were even downright attractive, yet his pride as a Zebrican demanded that he ultimately settle down with another zebra. His species was a rarity, being born and raised in a comparably harsh land with little resources, so he’d inevitably do his part to bolster their numbers - that being said, he certainly wasn’t opposed to fraternizing with his distant cousins. Trotting around his guest, inspecting her figure, he nodded to himself.
“I know it’s against protocol, but...No, forget I said anything,” he sighed, coming to rest before her.
Leech’s ears perked up, and she raised a brow, curious as to what he’d been about to say. “But…? You can’t just tease a girl like that,” she pouted, folding her arms over her chest.
“Well…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was going to say that it would look lovely on you. Take no offense, it’s just that-”
“Offense,” she scoffed. “Hell - I’d love to try something like that on! That outfit is probably worth more than all the clothes I’ve ever owned - that and I think I’d look pretty damn sexy in it, if I do say so myself.”
Modesty was a bit of a foreign concept for her, so being able to wear something so decadently depraved would be an honor. There’d been points in her life when she’d had little more to wear than wrongly sized clothing from goodwill shops or, at times, things she’d purloined from donation centers. She really didn’t care how slutty she’d look in the outfit - in fact, she found the prospect of wearing something so extravagant exciting .
Mkuu forced himself to knit his brow and scrunch his nose, unwilling to betray his piquing interest. It had been months since he’d last been treated to any sort of intimacy, and he felt certain that the girl would look ravishing in the garment, though that was no guarantee that he’d get to do more than look at her wearing it. Opening the case, carefully taking the intricate attire from off the mannequin, he glanced over his shoulder.
“Just don’t tell anyone about this. I’d hate for the staff to catch word that I let a pony wear something so valuable,” he whispered, shooting her a wink.
If she thought there was some scandalous element involved, so much the better. Looking to his left and right, ensuring the coast was clear, he briskly began walking down the corridor. The sound of bare feet trailing behind him told him everything he needed to know; the mare was following him, nearly as quiet as a mouse. Only one appropriate place came to mind, for someone to try on something so skimpy - his personal chamber.
Through a winding series of corridors, and up a flight of stairs, he took the long way to his room. There was a shorter, more direct path available, although the chances of him running into any of his fellow dignitaries of staff members; he doubted that any would give him any trouble, should he run into any of them, but he’d rather avoid having to explain why he was guiding a mare to his room. Finally, after a brief stroll, he reached his destination.
“Inside ,” he murmured, hastily motioning for her to enter.
Nodding to herself, doing her best not to smile like an idiot, Leech scampered into the chamber. While she hadn’t been sure where he’d been leading her, she got her answer quickly enough. The room wasn’t just any other room, it was a bedroom . Tapestries lined the walls, with a king sized bed resting at the far end of the suite. There were other pieces of furniture, including a wardrobe, dresser, and vanity, but she was too exhilarated to pay them much mind.
If she was lucky, she’d be able to slip into the ornate outfit and ideally be able to tempt the striped stud for a bit of cultural exchange . The short walk to his chamber had been torturous, seeing the cheeks of his sculpted behind gliding past one another, and she was definitely ready to see what he’d been hiding under that loincloth of his. As far as she was concerned, given his generous and extraordinarily pleasant treatment, he’d earned the right to plow the living daylights out of her - that is, if he was into mares.
“I have to admit, you’ve got some really nice digs,” she commented, noticing a bathroom sat to one side. “Now then, since we’ve got a bit of privacy , would you rather I change here or…” she fell silent, pulling at her shirt and revealing her midriff.
Fighting back a snicker, Mkuu held his tranquil smile. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather be surprised. Please, feel free to change in there,” he continued, nodding towards the restroom. Leaning in, bringing his snout to the side of her head, he breathed hotly on her ear. “I promise, I won’t peek .”
No sooner did his quiet words hit her than her marehood angrily clenched upon itself. Be damned if she could say all zebras were as smooth as the ambassador, but her panties were already drenched . Gnawing her lip, grinding her thighs together, she sweetly rubbed his bicep. The sensation of his soft coat, above the toned muscle of his arm, caused her to shiver.
Like a striking serpent, unable to control herself, she pecked his cheek, snatched the outfit from his hand, wheeled around, and dashed into the bathroom. She didn’t know if the stud was married or in a relationship, nor did she care; one way or another, she wasn’t going to leave the grounds until she’d gotten some action from the big lug. Closing and locking the door behind herself, tugging her shirt up and over her head, she hastily disrobed.
As the mare disappeared from view, a sinister grin split Mkuu’s muzzle. If she was so enthusiastic to get changed and bear her body for him, he couldn’t wait to see how she’d react to the little surprise he had in store for her. Nonchalantly trotting over to his night stand, he retrieved a small urn and paint brush from the top drawer.
There was a tradition of sorts among his people. If they couldn’t become intimate with one of their own, they’d often mark a prospective lover with stripes. The act was subtly demeaning, inferring that other species were somehow beneath them, but that was part of the charm. Having a mate who willingly degraded themselves held a certain appeal, an appeal he’d grown quite fond of, and he was curious to see her reaction to the proposal of being anointed .
Many mares viewed it as a taboo, especially because of the erotic and foreign nature of zebras, but there were some who relished the act. The simple fact was that, in both Equestria and Zebrica, females were beneath their male counterparts, with pony mares being definitely of lower standing than their striped kin. Hopping onto the bed, placing the crock of white ink beside himself, he flipped his loincloth and began idly stroking his length.
He had her on the ropes, judging from her erect nipples to the faint aroma of lust emanating from her, so bedding her should be a relatively simple task. Even if he didn’t get to paint her body, he still had every intention of giving her an evening she would never forget. Compared to the average pony stallion, his size, experience, and stamina were a force to be feared, so he knew he’d outperform any of his pastel kin. Smugly smiling, as blood rushed into his growing shaft, he awaited his guest.
Staring at her reflection, with her mouth agape, Leech was speechless. The getup had looked pretty good on the blank, white form of the mannequin, but it was provocative beyond words on her. The gold and glittering gemstones accented her frame perfectly, while the translucent fabric over her loins caused her drooling marehood to be easily visible. There was no back of the garb whatsoever, leaving her rear wholly exposed.
Turning in place, basking in just how radiant she appeared, she wondered to what lengths she’d have to go to procure the attire permanently . It wasn’t like she had many spare bits on hand, but there were other, less orthidox means she could compensate the emissary with. Smirking at herself, she reached down and massaged her crotch.
If the sight of a scantily clad mare wasn’t enough to get him worked up, she’d employ every weapon in her sensual arsenal to bend him to her will. He seemed kindly enough, and was friendly to a fault, meaning he shouldn’t be too hard to break - after all, he was a healthy, young stallion, and all stallions had buttons which could be pressed . With everything as it should be, feeling more than confident that she would at least get laid, she adjusted the jewelry about her person and strutted back into the room.
Hearing the restroom door click, Mkuu lazily turned his head towards the bathroom and froze. Practically bleeding self-assurance, sashaying into view like a model, the mare was a sight to behold. He’d figured she’d look good in the attire, but he hadn’t realized just how stunning she’d be. Briefly at a loss, staring wide-eyed at her, he swallowed and composed himself.
Leech’s conviction wavered, spotting the towering pillar of zebra flesh. Gazing longingly at his stallionhood, keenly aware of the nectar creeping down her inner thigh, she willed herself to stay cool. Though she was damn tempted to sprint across the room and bury her face in his package, that would have to wait - for the time being, she’d just put the ball back in his court.
“Do you like it?” she demurely asked.
Slowly turning in place, giving him a perfect view of her sides and back, she felt her cheeks darken. It was rare for her to get flustered over potentially bedding someone, but her host had somehow done the trick. Sauntering towards the bed, seeing him swing his legs over the edge of the mattress, something curious caught her eye. Resting just beside him was a small crock and brush.
She’d heard tales that some zebra stallions took some perverse pleasure from painting their mates, though she’d never been lucky enough to experience it herself. Salivating from both ends, with her heart skipping a beat, she knew just what to do. Boldly striding to meet him, she sank to one knee and lowered her head. If he wanted to enact the sinful ritual on her, she’d be sure to play her part.
“My lord ,” she breathed, prostrating herself before him, “forgive this concubine’s impudence, but do you intend to claim me?”
The question caught Mkuu off guard, giving him a moment for pause. He’d expected her to be shocked by his endowment, yet the sight had seemingly stoked the fires of reverence in her. Stooping low, drawing his fingers under her chin, he locked eyes with her. Had she been any other simple pony, he would have thought the presentation laughable, but her humility and respect practically demanded he take her seriously.
“Stand,” he commanded. She obeyed without hesitation, getting to her feet and holding her hands before herself. “Might I presume you know what this entails?” he inquired, reaching over and tapping the urn.
“I do, my lord,” she murmured.
Averting her gaze, she waited. If what she’d read was correct, it wasn’t proper for traditional concubines to act of their own accord, or speak without having been spoken to, putting him in control of the situation. Ordinarily speaking, had he been any other stallion, she would have gleefully pushed him onto the bed and had her way with him, but that wasn’t the case; if she was going to truly adopt the role of a Zebrican mistress, she’d have to exercise self-restraint.
“If I do this,” Mkuu began, dunking the brush in the thick, milky ink, “you realize the paint will mark you for nearly a week and, as such, indicate your fealty to me…”
“Lord,” she sighed, bowing, “any simple pony maiden would be privileged to be claimed by such a fine stallion as yourself.”
Her actions, as well as her words, were carefully chosen, something she rarely did, and it caused her pulse to quicken. She’d done roleplay before, getting dressed up to perform various lewd roles before, but this was different. Once he’d painted her, if he chose to do so, anyone with the slightest inkling of the perverse would know just how kinky she was - a fact which made the situation all the more appealing. Biting her lip, she made an impulsive move.
“So long as you bring me out, displaying your prize for all to see, I will promise myself to you,” she continued.
Though the request was a bit impetuous, Mkuu couldn’t help but chuckle. “As you wish, slave , but know that your insolence has been noted. Now, extend your arms and close your eyes.”
Leech nodded, unquestioningly doing as she’d been told. Though she was unable to see what her host was doing, she felt the soft brush gliding over her left forearm. Slowly moving up and around her limb, making his way to her chest, he anointed her bust and back. It was a deliciously sensual experience, even if it wasn’t overtly obscene. As he reached her hips, she broadened her stance and spread her legs.
As much as she would have liked to take a peek at herself, she kept her eyes glued firmly shut. Being striped was more thrilling than she’d given it credit for, causing the ache in her loins to grow steadily worse. As he painted around her calves, likely squatted down before her, she suppressed a shudder. There was no way he couldn’t see just how aroused she was, but that was fine - if nothing else, it was a testament to how excited she was.
Eyeing her crotch, drawing his tongue over his lips, Mkuu drew in her scent. Though some part of him was inclined to lean in and slip his muzzle behind the thin cloth over her nethers, he focused on the job at hand. There’d be time later for him to taste her, if she was as devoted as she seemed, but that could wait. Nearly finishing up, with only her face and abdomen left unmarked, he straightened up.
“This way,” he breathed, taking her shoulders and guiding her before the vanity. Revealing his work to a subject was always particularly entertaining, yet not as entertaining as what was to follow. Moving her before the mirror, ensuring she’d have a good view of her reflection, he released her. “Open your eyes…”
Peering out, Leech’s jaw practically hit the floor. Contrasted against her nearly black fur, the white paint was absolutely stunning . Simple banded designs covered her limbs, but that was only the start; a whirl circled one nipple, while a star covered the other, although her lower belly and face were left untouched. All in all, the patterns accentuated her figure and perfectly complemented her ornate outfit.
“Beautiful, is it not?” Mkuu asked, gently rubbing her upper back.
“Y...yeah ,” she stammered. “I mean, yes, my lord.”
“Before you ask about your face and abdomen, those must be earned ,” he explained, turning away and trotting to the bed. Crawling to the dead center of the mattress, rolling to his back, he rested his hands behind his head.
“How may this humble slave earn those marks, my lord?” she inquired, silently hoping things were about to move on.
“Come,” he mused, flexing his stallionhood, “show me your dedication .”
Her enthusiasm and subservient behavior were impressive, but that would mean nothing if she wasn’t skilled. While it was true that he could and had trained mares how to properly treat a stallion, the process was exhaustive and, frankly, not as enjoyable as many may think. She’d talked the talk, now he’d be able to see if she could walk the walk.
Swallowing hard, fighting the compulsion to throw herself upon him, she calmly strolled to the foot of the bed and crept onto the mattress on all fours. His legs parted for her, allowing her open access to his equipment. Taking her time, steadily closing on his package, the first delicate hints of his musk wafted to her nostrils.
Bringing her muzzle to his ripe, lightly furred balls, she trembled. Not only was his endowment extraordinarily, but he smelled heavenly . Similar to a pony stallion, yet distinctly exotic, his scent drew her in. Propping herself on one elbow, she reached up and gently wrapped her fingers around her shaft - at least, she tried to wrap her fingers around his shaft.
Towering above her, like some primitive totem, his cock was magnificent. Long, thick, and with a large vein winding along one side, his length was covered in velvety, coal-black flesh. Pressing her nose to the ambrosial nexus of his bouquet, she drew her tongue over his pair of fist-sized nuts. While she couldn’t fathom exactly how productive he was, she sure as hell planned to find out.
Lovingly fondling his balls with one hand, while lightly stroking him off with the other, she licked and lavished his equipment like the slut she was. There was no need for dirty talk, letting her actions speak more than words could. She was his property, for the time being, and she was determined to gain his favor, regardless of what it took.
Humming contentedly, pleased with the mare’s ministrations, Mkuu enjoyed the show. Despite having only met her less than an hour ago, he had to admit, he was impressed. Her oral skills were a delight, as were the fleeting glimpses she gave him, and she’d only just begun. Lapping at the underside of his shaft, gradually working her way to the blunted tip, she wrapped her lips around him.
As she slowly drew him into her snout, she peered out at him. Maintaining eye contact, bobbing her head, the slightest smile graced her. She knew exactly what she was doing, he had no doubt of that, and that is what he found especially intriguing; since she was so talented with her mouth, he’d be interested to see how well her expertise lent itself to other areas.
Languidly descending down his length, artfully massaging him with her tongue, the head of his cock eventually bumped against the back of her throat. It was a sight he’d become far too accustomed to, seeing nearly half of his shaft left unserviced, but he was in for yet another small surprise. Filling her lungs, while she grasped the trunk-like base of his stallionhood, she continued undeterred.
There weren’t many who could fully fellate him, yet his member steadily disappeared into her cavernous maw. Though he didn’t have the clearest view, he could just make out the imprint of his cock slipping down her throat. He figured he’d have fun with her, getting an easy lay at the very least, but he’d clearly underestimated her carnal prowess. Moving his arms, leaving his head propped on the pillows beneath the headboard, he rested his hands on the base of her skull.
Feeling his hands rest against her head, Leech considered his touch high praise. She’d encountered stallions who preferred to let their mare do all the work, but she’d obviously done something right with this one. His grip on her mane tightened, softly guiding her movements and ensuring she was thoroughly choked on his shaft, but she considered that a good sign. Having him take the initiative meant that he wanted it, and knowing that he wanted it meant the hooks were in.
She’d sucked more cock than she cared to count, of a staggering variety of sizes and shapes, so she knew her limits - limits which her host was pushing. As long as she remained calm, a fact which was easier said than done, she’d have roughly two minutes before she needed to breathe, but that wasn’t the biggest issue. Barring a scant few exceptions, the zebra’s stallionhood was one of the longest cock’s she’d ever had her esophagus swabbed by.
Propped on one arm, using her free hand to massage and lightly squeeze his nuts, she did what she could to stay relaxed. Every time she thought she’d be able to get a breath, she was gently forced back down his length. Deeper and deeper still she went, enduring all the while, until her nose bumped against the tuft of fur at his groin; somehow, despite all odds, she’d managed to lodge the entirety of his substantial dick down her gullet.
“Outstanding ,” he muttered, relinquishing her and allowing her to move freely.
Much to his amazement, instead of withdrawing and gasping for air, she furiously throated him a handful of times before clearing her muzzle. Her absolute audacity left him stunned, genuinely unsure if he should be offended or proud of her temerity; in the end, he settled upon being both. Watching her lick a cocktail of saliva and pre-cum from her lips, he flashed her a wolfish grin.
“I hope you’re prepared to pay for your impertinence,” he snickered.
“Only if it’s a promise, my lord,” she smoothly countered, pushing herself up to her knees. Kneading her marehood, coating her fingers with her arousal, she smirked. “May this lowly slave mount you, my lord?”
“Mmmmm ,” he impassively hummed. While he wasn’t opposed to despoiling her, her question gave him an opening he wasn’t about to pass up.
Shuffling forward, Leech swung one leg over the stud’s waist. Whereas a novice would have been nervous, she felt ecstatic . Something about testing herself always got her wound up, and she knew she’d be getting a good stretch from him. The masochistic part of her pined to feel him battering her hapless womb, to have her insides rearranged by his majestic stallionhood, and that notion was enough inspiration to spur her onward.
Settling onto his lap, sandwiching his dick between her slavering cunt and his abs, she rocked her hips forward and back. She’d impale herself soon enough, but she saw no harm in teasing him just a bit. Leaning forward, she kissed her way from his powerfully built chest, up his neck, and to his chin. She was glad that he wasn’t in a hurry, because she wanted to relish every sensual second with the big, handsome bastard.
“My, aren’t you an affectionate one,” he whispered, shifting his head to face her.
“I can’t help it, my lord,” she bashfully giggled, walking her fingers up his side. “If anything, it’s your fault. You’re simply too perfect to resist.”
“Oh?” he quipped, lifting her chin. “Please, indulge me.”
As shameful as it was to admit, he’d always had a soft spot for flattery. Besides compliments stroking his ego, an ego he’d earned from years of toil, training, and fitness, hearing such praise from a pony was positively intoxicating . Meeting a mare who knew her place, who fully realized she was in the presence of someone superior, fanned the domineering flames of his desires. Flexing his groin, causing his cock to spring free and rest between her supple buns, he brought his lips to within a hair’s breadth from hers.
“Your beauty is beyond reproach, your form is the divine given flesh, and your voice…” she trailed off, quivering against him, “is like that of an angel. For a mere pony mare know such moments of intimacy is like having a taste of heaven itself.”
The grace of her humble words set his heart pounding, but she wasn’t done yet - not by a long shot. Before he could even formulate a response, she ensnared him in a deep, passionate kiss. Not to be outdone, pushing back against her, he jammed his tongue into her mouth. He hated to say it, but he was quickly growing fond of the mysterious, impish mare.
Most ponies he’d met were curt with him, with a few even being anxious in his presence, but not her - not this particularly daring damsel. Reaching down, sinking his fingers into the soft flesh of her ass, he repositioned her ever so slightly. While he’d initially hoped to sate himself with her, a new compulsion gradually blossomed. He no longer wanted to claim her - he needed to claim her, and that meant putting her in her place.
Breaking their kiss, glowering dead at her, he slapped her rump. “Did I say you could mount me?”
“I - uh -” she faltered, taken aback. “I believe so, my -”
“A simple hum wasn’t a yes ,” he smugly cut her off. “If you’d be so kind as to get off of me, I believe a bit of punishment is in order.” As the mare dismounted him, reluctantly moving off of him, he rolled to his stomach and pushed himself onto his knees. “On all fours, slave , and face away from me.”
Crawling to the middle of the mattress, on her hands and knees, Leech presented for him. She wasn’t sure what sort of punishment he had in mind, but hearing the word was thrilling. With her tail flagged and swung to the side, giving him a picturesque view of her behind, she kept her head lowered and awaited his next command.
“Hands,” he grumbled.
Lowering her chest to the soft blanket, she extended her arms behind herself. She dare not look back at him, lest she evoke his ire, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was doing. In the blink of an eye, he grabbed her wrists and pulled. Suspended by her arms, leaving her breasts to sway in the open air, he held her torso aloft. Being held in such a way wasn’t what she would describe as pleasant , but the sensation of what could only be his stallionhood prodding her entrance erased any discomfort.
“Sing for me ,” Mkuu huffed, taunting her marehood.
As Leech opened her mouth to reply, he steadily sank his length into her. A guttural, shameless groan escaped her, while her depths embraced him. The stud’s glacial pace was as much of a blessing as it was a curse, straining her interior; it wasn’t until he was pressing against her cervix did he grind to a halt. She arched her back, pawing at his arms, but she was completely helpless - well, almost helpless.
“My lord , please!” she mewled, clenching around him. “Ruin me for any pathetic pony stallions.”
“And I shall,” he grunted, rocking his hips back, “just like this .”
Using her arms as leverage, simultaneously pulling her back and driving his hips forward, he started thrusting. As much as he would have liked to take his time with her, she’d forced his hand - at least, for the time being. The whorish, depraved noises she made were the sweetest of symphonies, though not as sweet as her depths.
Hot, accommodating, and astonishingly snug, her sex was as wondrous as the rest of her. Even though she’d been immobilized, unable to free herself from him, she sought to please him. Her marehood tightly squeezed on his backstrokes, as if fighting his escape, while she relaxed with each thrust. Looking down at her, he gradually picked up speed.
His hips slammed against her ass, and his balls slapped her clit, while he wrenched her arms upwards, yet she seemed to be loving every minute of the harsh treatment. Even after considerably more warm-up, most mares would have been begging him for forgiveness or to slow down, but this mare wasn’t any other mare. Peering down his chest, watching his length piston into her clinging snatch, he smiled.
She felt amazing, like molten silk, garnering her yet more points in his favor. The sights and sounds of her were just what he’d been hoping for, but it was her subservience which he truly enjoyed. The pony played her role perfectly, save for the small outburst or breach of etiquette, and he could honestly see himself growing fond of her, but that wasn’t likely to happen.
Adjusting his movements ever so slightly, guided by experience and feel, he situated his medial ring over her g-spot. The octave of her whimpers and sighs increased, bringing a smile to his lips, as he pushed her to the brink. It wasn’t a matter of if he could make her cum, it was a matter of when and how many times he’d make her cum...
After what had felt like hours of foreplay and teasing, including being striped and flirting with the emissary, Leech realized she wouldn’t be able to last long. Biting her lip, using the pain to fend off her climax, her pitiful attempt was too little too late. Throwing her head back, screaming to the heavens, she met her climactic end.
Orgasmic juices gushed from her stuffed confines, painting the zebra’s thighs, but he didn’t slow in the slightest - if anything, her release caused him to rut her harder and faster than before. It was all she could do to howl out and quake in his grasp, utterly at his mercy, while he dominated her. The onrush of hormones clouded her mind, causing her to struggle against her mate, a fact which seemed to amuse him. He quietly laughed, while she weakly twisted and tugged her arms.
“Trying to get away already?” he snorted, disappointed with her efforts. “I’d had higher hopes for-”
“I beg you ,” she shouted, twisting her head to peek back at him, “let me serve you !”
Mkuu slowed, if only just, staring at her face. “And how would you do that ?” he asked.
“My lord, if you allow me, I’d much rather show you,” she panted, regaining a touch of her composure.
Her request was twofold, if not slightly risky. While it was discourteous for a concubine to act on her own or to interrupt her master, sex was one area she excelled in - as such, she was certain they’d both enjoy themselves much, much more in a less demanding position. Holding her breath, trying and failing to read his face, she ceased struggling.
Releasing her wrists, she rolled to the side and patted the mattress. “If you would, my lord, make yourself comfortable.”
“And if I refuse?” he countered, raising a brow.
“If you refuse, you won’t get to see what joys this slave has to offer,” she purred, tugging at her nipples.
Turning his head, hiding a smirk, he laid back on the mattress. He had been planning on having her ride him, but the doggy had been an adequate opening act. Reminding her of who was in charge was important, and she’d do well to take the lesson to heart. Reassuming the position he’d started in, with his head on the pillows, he watched her straddle him.
As the mare lifted his legs, leaving his knees bent, he softly tsked to himself. “Yet another transgression.”
Grabbing his cock and guiding it to her snatch, she sighed. “My lord would do well to trust his slave…”
With the tip of his length kissing her entrance, she reached behind herself, rested her hands on his knees, and leaned back. Any amateur could ride a stallion, but only a professional knew how to make a real show of it. Lowering her waist, steadily impaling herself, she loudly moaned. He may have bedded a few pony mares before her, but she was determined to make a lasting impression.
The sight of watching his length disappear into her was incredible, but that was only one facet of the experience. Though it was subtle, he could make out the imprint of his stallionhood within her lower belly. Larger ponies had tried and failed to hilt him, yet this mare had done so with ease. Smiling up at her face, while she triumphantly wiggled her hips, he shook his head.
“You may begin,” he murmured.
“Thank you, my lord,” she whispered.
Raising her hips, freeing the base of his cock, she began riding him like a seasoned veteran. Moving at a snail’s pace, being sure to throw in the periodic gyration, there was a distinctively theatrical element to her movements. Anyone was capable of giving a quickie, but the best ones left a lasting impression with a lay. Gazing down at him, freeing one hand, she reached for him.
The moment his fingers graced her palm, she guided his hand to her waist. “Here,” she cooed.
Feeling his natural urges chipping away at his composure, Mkuu swallowed hard. Bucking up to meet her descents, causing her breasts to sway with each collision, he squeezed her hip. She really was an alluring creature, haughty and extraordinarily sensual, and he considered himself fortunate for stumbling upon her. As their movements became synchronized, the pair ratcheted up the intensity.
His heavy breaths became grunts and snorts, her whimpers of delight grew in ferocity. Stripped of their higher function, reduced to two animals, the pair went at it like a pair of beasts. There was no talking or begging, not a single order or command - no, merely the cries and groans of wild, passionate lovemaking.
Seconds passed into minutes, and longer still, as they lost themselves. Each of the mare’s climaxes was just as intense as the last, causing her to slow and momentarily convulse, but she was inexplicably able to recover each and every time. Though the stallion’s endurance was beyond impressive, he quickly discovered that he was fighting a war of attrition.
Setting his jaw, struggling against the blossoming pleasure, he fought his impending orgasm with everything he had - still, he knew it was in vain. Peeing up at her, seeing her wild, enchanting eyes up on him, he slipped closer to the edge. Sitting upright, while she continued fucking herself on him, he launched his final assault.
His hips became a blur, pounding her from below with unbelievable force, as he pulled out all the stops. Since she seemed so keen on experiencing everything he had to offer, he’d be more than happy to unleash his full sexual might against her. Her attempts to keep up were admirable, even if she inevitably failed, yet he’d hoped she would. It was only when he eventually crushed her resistance, sinking into her womb, did he let himself reach the breaking point.
Wrapping his arms around her torso, pulling her down, he hilted. Had she been anyone else, he wouldn’t have concerned himself with something so foolish, but something compelled him to act slightly out of character. Grasping the back of her head, while the first shots of his rich, thick foal-batter surged through his throbbing shaft, he deeply kissed her.
As they locked lips, pints of his virile essence poured into her womb. The sheer volume of his spunk gave the mare her biggest orgasm yet, causing her to nearly scream in ecstasy into his mouth, but his tongue silenced her. Oddly enough, though it was a bit abnormal, he was actually happy that she’d cum alongside him; it was the perfect way to end their first bout of sensual bliss.
Hotly making out, literally and figuratively riding out their rapture, they pawed at one another - that was, until Leech slipped her hands to the stallion’s chest and pushed him back. She wasn’t nearly finished with him, not by a long shot, and she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she’d drained every drop out of his swollen nuts. Shifting in place, fully intent to switch into a reverse cowgirl, he caught her wrist.
“Wait,” he growled.
Turning his head, spotting the paint sitting on the nightstand, he extended his arm and grabbed the urn. He wasn’t about to stop her, if she wanted another round, but there was something he had to do first. Dipping his hand into the jar, covering his hand in the white ink, he pressed his palm to her lightly swollen abdomen. He couldn’t say what her intention was, but he had no intention of stopping until she was well and thoroughly knocked-up.
“Guess that settles it,” she snickered, peering at the hand-print. Leaning forward, inadvertently making a mirrored marking on his abs, she kissed his nose. “Hope you don’t mind having a slave for the next week.”
“With talk like that, I may just make it permanent,” he chortled, groping her tush.
Circling his arms around his back, she kicked off and rolled him on top of herself. If she got in trouble for the spontaneous change of position, she could deal with it later - for the time being, she wanted to hand him the reins. Locking her ankles over his hips, giving him a light tug, she beamed. Getting somewhere to crash for a week was a pleasant turn of events, but finding an adonic new master was the real prize.
If he’d been right about the paint, she’d be going out and about with his markings for the duration of her trip. All the ponies throughout Canterlot would know she belonged to a zebra, that she was little more than a harlot for a striped stud, although that suited her just fine. The other mares in town could act disgusted, because she knew they’d be jealous of the stud she’d bagged.
As he lightly started humping her, letting himself recover to a degree, she cupped his chin. “Can I ask something?”
He nodded. “You may.”
“You wouldn’t happen to have a collar , would you?” she tittered, pulling him deeper.
Slipping his muzzle to the side of her head, he gently bit her ear. “I do, as a matter of fact, but you’ll have to wear it out while leashed to me.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way… ”
“So,” Leech began, carving a slice off her steak, “can I ask you something?”
Peering over at the mare, disquieted with the nonchalance with which she was eating a slab of barely cooked meat, Mkuu’s eyes wandered to her face. Despite her bizarre meal choice, she looked quite resplendent. One of the receptionists at the embassy had been kind enough to lend a dress for his guest, allowing them to go out for their first real meal of the day.
Adorned in the crimson halter top, which may have been just a size too small, the mare sat and feasted upon her dinner. He’d brought her to a bistro just down the road from the consulate, one of his favored dining spots, after she’d made herself presentable - well, as presentable as a striped pony could be. Watching her swallow her mouthful, while bringing another juicy morsel of meat to her mouth, he knit his brow.
“Only if I can ask you something in return,” he countered. “Have you always been a carnivore?”
Leech held up a finger, savoring her bite. “Omnivore,” she corrected, leveling her fork at him. “And, yeah, I think so? Knew a couple of griffons and hippogriffs, back when I was a kid, so I guess I picked it up from them - then again, that really doesn’t explain these.” Curling her lip, she exposed one rather pronounced canine.
She’d never gotten an explanation regarding her abnormal teeth, nor the fact that she could actually stomach meat. As far as she knew, ponies weren’t supposed to be able to digest flesh, yet she did so with ease. Smiling over at him, licking the juice from her lips, she rested her elbows on the table.
“My turn,” she hummed, easing her chin onto one hand. “Is there a particular reason why you’re single?”
Motioning to a passing waiter, Mkuu shrugged. “And what makes you presume I’m single?”
“Please , like it’s hard to tell,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “You don’t have a wedding band, there aren’t any photos of a lover in your suite or office, your bathroom doesn’t have a single bit of marish detritus, and you took me in and bedded me in a matter of hours .”
“Not that you minded,” he mused, smirking to himself.
“Hey, don’t dodge the question,” she snickered, menacingly waving her silverware in his direction. “Anyways - I haven’t seen a single thing that leads me to believe you’re taken.”
“Oh?” he quipped. “And what if I had a marefriend or wife in my home country?”
“If that were the case, you’d definitely have some memento from them in your room, like a picture or a letter, so I doubt it - not to mention how you just phrased that as a hypothetical,” she smugly noted.
He couldn’t help but smile, amazed by her deductive skills. “Let's say I am single,” he continued, plucking a tray of crostini from the waiter’s hands, “what difference would it be to you?”
She’d clearly asked him for a reason, although that reason had yet to be seen. Taking a bite of his fig and cheese laden toast, feigning disinterest, he put the ball into her court. In the short span of time he’d been with her, he’d come to realize that she was a remarkably shrewd mare. While there was an off chance that she was quick witted and manipulative, instead of genuinely intelligent, she’d shown several instances of keen insight and observational skill.
“To me, not a bit,” she responded, “but I am curious about it though. Frankly, given your looks, status, and charming personality, you could have mares knocking down the door to get you.”
“I could say the same about you, in a sense,” he rebutted. “Granted, you may not have much worldly worth - no offense - but I’m a bit shocked that some stallion hasn’t claimed you and sired a foal with you.”
“There you go with that offer again,” she giggled. Extending her leg beneath the veiled table, she softly caressed his inner thigh with a toe. “Don’t tell me that you’ve been waiting for a special mare to knock up and keep as a housewife.”
Stopping just short of his loincloth, grinning cheekily over at him, she clenched her plugged marehood. True to her word, she’d gone out wearing the stopper, locking his last load within her depths, and was completely bereft of any undergarments. Thankfully, given the tablecloth covering most of her legs, nobody could see her surreptitiously toying with the stud.
“Mares ,” he corrected. “It’s not uncommon that we adopt a small harem, so long as we can successfully provide for them and our offspring - one of the benefits of financial stability and careful forethought.”
“Well when you’re ready to make me your number one mare, just send me a letter,” she sighed, spearing one of her final bites of steak. “I definitely wouldn’t mind being the exotic housewife of some fancy-pants ambassador, even if he prefers to go pants-free.”
Though her tone may have come off as lighthearted, there was a kernel of truth in her words. She’d spent most of her time wandering from place to place, finding couches to crash on or beds of others to warm, and she’d never given much thought to her future. Maybe if she’d been a bit luckier, or buckled down when she was a kid, she would have made something of herself. Sadly, as things were, she wasn’t sure where fate would have her land.
Though Mkuu spotted a fleeting look of melancholy cross her face, he kept his mouth shut. If he decided to pry, hoping to determine how genuine her admission was, he could do so later - for the time being, he’d be content to finish their meal and continue their evening without blundering into gloomy waters. Smiling over at her, he set his silverware down.
“Care for a dessert?” he inquired.
Leech waved a hand, dismissing the offer. “Thanks, but I’m good - if anything, maybe you could treat me to a drink later,” she replied, withdrawing her leg. “Thanks for the dinner, by the way, it was amazing.”
He dipped his head, happy to hear she’d enjoyed herself. “Consider it a treat for your exceptional company.”
Her cheeks darkened ever so slightly, as she averted her gaze and looked away. The grand irony of her blush, evoked by some simple flattery, was wonderfully amusing; they’d fucked several times, she’d willingly debased herself, and she was shamelessly trotting about while wearing the ritual marks of a claimed concubine - still, after all that, a compliment had gotten her flustered. She really was a fascinating creature - energetic, good looking, clever, and mysterious - and he found himself increasingly interested in her.
Pushing himself away, grabbing the bill from the table, he got to his hooves. “If you’re finished, shall we?”
Leech’s eyes flitted to the table, spying the various nibbles and leftovers on their plates. “Can we get a doggy bag?”
“I beg your pardon?” he asked, confused by her request.
“A takeout box - you know, for all this,” she explained, waving to the scraps.
Shaking his head, hoping to dispel her concern, he moved to her side. “If you’re hungry later, I’m sure we could -”
“It’s not gonna be for me,” she groaned, waving to a nearby employee. “Just trust me with this one.”
Perplexed, he watched the mare scamper over to the server’s station, retrieve a takeout box, return to the table, and gather up what remained of their meals - save for the last of her steak, which she wolfed down. Carefully layering the scraps, ensuring the bread wouldn’t get too soggy, she closed the container, hooked her elbow around his arm, and turned towards the door. She wasn’t about to let the food go to waste, whether or not her host approved or not.
Trotting towards the exit, only stopping to pay for their meal, he held the mare close. “Care for a stroll?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” she chirped, plastering herself to his side. “Is there anywhere you’d like to show me?”
“Besides the shop I mentioned, not really, no,” he grunted, looking down the sidewalk. “Unfortunately, unless we catch a cab, we’ve got the better part of an hour’s walk ahead of us.”
Patting her belly, which was still a bit pronounced from the spunk marinating within her stuffed womb, she motioned him forward. “After a meal like that, I could use a bit of exercise.”
“Is that your trick to keeping such an alluring figure?” he snickered, slipping a hand around her waist.
“Walking a lot and living off scraps - hell, I should write a book,” she laughed, theatrically waving a hand. “The Hobo’s Lifestyle , a key to staying hot as heck while being homeless.”
Copious exercise and prolonged bouts of going without a proper meal was a darn decent way of keeping in shape, although the latter point wasn’t exactly what she’d consider fun. She’d managed to get by, taking odd jobs and busking when she could, while scavenging and foraging when she couldn’t, so she couldn’t complain too much. It’d been ages since she’d been treated to a fancy dinner, let alone one with such a fetching stallion, and she secretly hoped it wasn’t the last such evening they’d spend together.
Walking alongside him, balancing the tray of leftovers on one palm, she reached behind herself, gently took his wrist, and guided his hand to the back of her dress. The garment had an open front and back, giving a view of her bust and lower back, and fit her like a second skin. As she calmly slipped his fingers beneath the fabric, guiding him towards her rear, she fought back a smirk - sure, she might be just a touch sore from the many rough poundings he’d been doling out, but she couldn’t resist from teasing him just a bit.
“You do realize, people will see me groping you,” Mkuu noted, worming his hand beneath her dress, giving her backside a firm squeeze.
In spite of the fact that he’d plowed her at least a dozen times in the last twenty-four hours, she still seemed eager for more action. He honestly couldn’t say if she was simply insatiable or if he’d won her over with his carnal prowess - either way, he found it difficult to stop himself from indulging. There weren’t many mares as forward as her, and fewer still who were willing to brazenly flaunt their sexuality while out in public, which was one of the reasons he’d decided to give her a little gift.
“I may need to abstain from rutting you later, if only to give you a fresh deposit in the morning,” he remarked.
“You know, I was thinking the same thing,” she quipped, feeling his pinkie finger tease her backdoor. “Heck, maybe I should just get you nice and riled up for the rest of the week .”
The comment caused him to slow and glance down at her. “You would deny me?”
“Mmmhmm ,” she merrily hummed, matching his pace. “Edge you just until you’re ready to pop , then ease off.”
She knew good and damn well that he wouldn’t be able to resist her for that long - hell, she wouldn’t be able to rob herself of his divine loving for less than a day - but she was more than game to play along with him. Making sure she had his attention, she pulled at her top, revealed one obsidian nipple, and stuck out her tongue. There was something delicious about lustfully toying with someone, seeing who would yield first, and she wasn’t about to let the opportunity for a bit of fun slip through her fingers.
“So if I were to drag you into an alley and have my way with you, you’d resist?” he pressed, flashing his teeth at her.
There was no way she would - at least, he felt certain she wouldn’t stop him. The promiscuous mare had virtually thrust herself upon him the moment they met, so the chances of her pulling a sensual about face seemed extraordinarily slim. Sliding a finger into her ass, feeling her clench around his digit, he wondered who’d give out first.
“Guess we’ll see what happens,” she tittered, turning her head away from him.
Moving from block to block, making their way towards the central business district, she finally spotted what she was hoping to find. Seated on the sidewalk, with his back against a corner, a somewhat disheveled pegasus stallion waved a can at passers by. Given the size of the capital, she knew it wouldn’t take them long to stumble upon someone homeless or in need - which was precisely why she’d made sure to collect their leftovers.
Briskly walking away from her host, freeing his hand from her rump, she marched over to the unlucky pony, knelt down, and offered what remained of their meal. “Here ya go, Chief. It’s still warm too.”
Mkuu silently watched the exchange, taken aback by her generosity. While it was true that he would occasionally run across those less fortunate than himself, he rarely gave them much thought - that being said, witnessing the act of kindness warmed his heart. Loosening his wallet, a sack of bits tied to his waist, he retrieved a few coins and flipped them into the pegasus’ can.
“May the winds of luck shift in your favor,” he intoned.
The destitute pony beamed up at them, smitten with their charity. It was a surprisingly wholesome moment, seeing someone become so happy over something so little, and it brought a smile to his face. After the mare had given the vagrant a fist bump, she stood up, strolled back to his side, and locked her arm with his. The display made sense, given what she’d revealed about her past, although actually seeing the magnanimous gesture gave her backstory a bit of added weight.
“That was really sweet of you,” she whispered, stroking her cheek on his bicep.
He grunted softly, acknowledging her statement. Truth be told, he really didn’t know what to say. If she hadn’t shown such sympathy, he more than likely wouldn’t have even noticed the beggar, let alone spared any coin. Grasping her hip, keenly aware of his growing fondness for her, he continued leading the way. Walking in relative silence, simply enjoying the cool afternoon air, they reached their destination in what felt like no time at all.
“Please tell me this is what I think it is,” the mare marveled, peering into the shop.
Chuckling to himself, Mkuu stepped to the door and opened it for his guest. “If you’re going to be traipsing about the consulate, while bearing stripes, you may as well complete the look.”
Like an excited school filly, Leech dashed into the boutique. She’d never been all that fashionable, what with her utter lack of funds, so she’d had no way of knowing there was a traditional Zebrican clothing store in Canterlot. The business’ interior wasn’t all that expansive, relatively small by most standards, but it was neatly split into a stallions’ and mares’ section.
The variety of apparel was staggering, ranging from opulent formal wear to traditional casual garb, and almost every outfit was extraordinarily colorful. Curiously enough, as she perused the various getups, she noticed there was a decided lack of undergarments. Cocking a brow, she turned to the towering stallion following behind her.
“I’m guessing you guys aren’t fans of undies?” she whispered, peeking to his barely veiled loins.
While the other staff of the consulate, save for a similarly adorned ambassador, all wore business casual business attire, she wondered what they had under their garments; if they were anything like her host, she was left to presume most or all of the stallions and mares were going commando. As she browsed the clothing, a particular piece caught her eye. Peering at a nearby mannequin, she abandoned the rack she’d been rifling through and wandered towards the dressed dummy.
“What’s this ?” she reverently inquired, delicately pawing at the displayed outfit.
“It’s called a bedlah,” Mkuu responded, amusedly observing her pinching and caressing the delicate fabric, “it’s not something that’s normally worn while out and about - then again, I’d presume you wouldn’t care much about that.”
Leech had seen some fancy getups in her day, but this one may have taken the cake. Unlike the concubine outfit she’d tried on at the embassy, the garment covered most of the wearer’s body - having said that, it was still extraordinarily sensual. Rich sapphire silk covered the bust, upper back, pelvis, and tush, yet the material was perilously thin and nearly transparent. Aside from the main outfit, intricate arm coverings, adorned with small bells, and a mouth vail completed the ensemble. The gold tracery was just the icing on the cake, making the ensemble positively gorgeous .
Sadly, as she looked at the price tag, her heart sank. As beautiful as the apparel was, there was no earthly way she could justify spending hundreds of bits on a single outfit, even if she had the cash to spare. Scrunching her nose, only the slightest bit crestfallen, she turned back towards the rack of cheaper garments - that was, until a hand grasped her shoulder.
Mkuu nodded to the mannequin, before turning his attention to his diminutive guest. “Do you like it?”
“I mean, yeah, of course I do, but it’s way too expensive for -” she fell silent, as he held a finger to her lips.
“A simple yes or no would suffice, although I think this ensemble would be a bit more fitting for - Ahem - less provocative engagements,” he softly tutted, lifting a matching leather top and skirt.
He had every intention of buying her an outfit or two, although he’d prefer she have something that wasn’t quite as flagrantly conspicuous to wear around. They’d already gotten a fair number of looks while they’d been out and about, and he felt certain that she’d noticed the curious stares from passersby, so he didn’t need her turning more heads. It wasn’t that he particularly minded being the center of attention, seeing as how his attire and imposing stature made him stand out, but a bit of modesty was warranted for one in his position.
Turning his head, waiving an employee over, he nodded to the dummy. “See if you have this in my companion’s size; I’d like her to try it on for me.”
Leech reared back, shocked by the implication. “You can’t be serious.”
“About what part?” he asked, turning to face her.
“You did see the price tag, didn’t you?” she bleated, waving at the ensemble.
He nodded, grinning down at her. “I did, and it’s not like I don’t have the bits to spare. Frankly, seeing you in something so wonderful would be an investment, considering you’ll be at my side for the next few days - that is, if you do decide to leave my company.”
“I…” she trailed off, feeling her cheeks darken. “Just so you know, I don’t take gifts lightly…”
As paradoxical as it may have sounded, she really wasn’t one for acts of charity. While she wasn’t opposed to accepting help, if she genuinely needed it, some part of her felt bad for taking donations, especially if the donations were somewhat frivolous. Petulantly scrunching her snout, crossing her arms over her chest, she turned her head to the side.
Tickled by her reaction, Mkuu patted her shoulder. “If you really want to make it up to me, I may have an idea.”
“Well it better be a good one, because it’s not like I have the bits to pay you back,” she groused.
Leaning over, he brought his muzzle to her ear. “Trust me, if you’re game, my proposition would prove both entertaining and rewarding…”
With her hand drifting to his groin, heedless of the employee approaching them, Leech exhaled. “Go on …”
“What if I told you there’s a club which professes in exhibitionistic shows,” he continued.
“Wanting to breed your little concubine in front of an audience, eh?” she whispered, breathing hotly in his ear.
“Something like that. You’d be surprised how much people are willing to pay to watch a mare get knocked-up on stage,” he purred, reaching down and caressing her plugged snatch.
There was a somewhat dubious venue within the city where exhibitionists and voyeurs could sate themselves. Nestled beneath a bakery, cleverly concealed from the uninitiated, the club was very easy to miss. Creatures from around Equestria would occasionally make the pilgrimage to show themselves to a crowd, but that wasn’t the only entertainment available there. The place had a reputation for interspecies appreciation, particularly for those with a love of zebras.
Wrapping her fingers around his length, feeling him twitch, she bucked into his palm. “If that’s what you’re going for, we might need to stop at an alchemist’s shop beforehand.”
“Oh? And what might we need from there?” he inquired, rearing back to look her in the eye.
Her lips split in a sinister grin, as she stroked him off. “A virility potion for you, and a fertility elixir for me - I mean, if folks are going to pay to see you pump a foal into me, we shouldn’t half-ass it.”
“You’d allow me to sire my heir with you so quickly?” he muttered, feeling his pulse quicken.
Leech rolled her shoulders, giving him a halfhearted shrug. “As long as you take care of me and the kid, while keeping me around to be your broodmare, fuck it, I’m down.”
Though it may have seemed like an impetuous and wholly lust-driven decision, the thought had become increasingly attractive. Having a place to live and regular meals would be a massive boon, not to mention she’d dreamt of raising a foal for ages. She wasn’t going to be young forever, and she’d eventually have to settle down with someone , so why not go with a dreamboat stud with a good career and a bit of political influence - that was, if he’d have her.
Giving her tush a playful smack, fully aware that the employee was standing a handful of paces away, Mkuu straightened up. “Well then, it sounds like I may just have to make another stop.”
Even with the breakneck speed their little relationship was moving, he couldn’t resist himself. Having a bit of company around the consulate would actually be quite pleasant, and the prospect of rearing a little filly or colt was a compelling one. He felt certain that he could find a position on their staff for her, if only as with a menial role, so she ultimately wouldn’t be that much of a financial burden.
“See that you try these on, ensuring they fit,” he instructed, running a finger up her chin. “I’ll be back shortly.”
Turning his back to her and the clerk, he weaved his way through the shop and towards the exit. His cool demeanor and confident stride stood in contradiction to the maelstrom of thoughts swirling about in his head. Just a few days prior, had someone said he’d consider carrying on his lineage with a pony , he would have laughed in their face - now, having met the beguiling and sultry unicorn, his mindset had shifted dramatically.
He’d always been told that he’d know when he found the right mare, but he would never have fathomed that that mare would be a pony. Leech was, without a doubt, one of the most interesting and bewitching women he’d ever met, and some part of him pined to sow his seed within her. Any offspring they bore would unquestionably be healthy, having beneficial traits of both their species, and he would ensure they got a proper education and upbringing. While it may have seemed impulsive, he was finding it difficult to find reasons not to permanently claim her.
Throwing his inhibition to the wind, knowing there was an apothecary just down the block, he saw himself out. If he was going to truly inseminate her, doing so in front of an audience would make the occasion a bit more memorable - doubly so, since she’d be wearing traditional Zebrican attire while striped. Growing increasingly aroused with the notion, wondering precisely how they could execute the act, his pace quickened.
Left to her own devices, seeing the stud trot out the door, Leech turned to face the employee. “You got a bathroom? I want to freshen up before I try these bad boys on.”
The clerk, a young zebra mare nodded and waved towards the back. “Past the changing rooms, last door on the right,” she stated, pointing to the rearmost corner of the business. “Ma’am, may I ask you something?”
“Shoot!” Leech chirped.
“Well…” the mare mumbled, fidgeting uncomfortably, “I was wondering if that was your betrothed…”
“Betrothed!” Leech guffawed, realizing too late that the girl was serious. Squinting down at her name tag, she fought back her laughter. “Well, Maua, he’s not my husband, but I don’t think I’d mind him putting a ring on it.”
Maua smiled, appearing somewhat more at ease, as she brushed a lock of monochrome hair from her face. “Forgive me, I was just curious. It’s rare to see a pony so brazenly flaunt their zebra lover - i...if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“I don’t mind one bit! Believe me, I wouldn’t have gone out like this if I was bothered,” the unicorn explained, waving to the bands of paint about her frame.
“Well I’m happy to meet someone who embraces our culture,” the zebra sighed. Glancing around, seeing that the shop was still vacant, she leaned closer to her customer. “If you don’t mind me asking, how was he in bed?”
The mere mention of the hulking stallion’s sexual might was enough to send an excited tingle up Leech’s spine. “You have no idea ! He’s extremely well hung, fucks like a wild bronco, and cums like a fucking fire hydrant! If I’m lucky, he’ll keep me around for a while.”
Peering over at the bedlah, Maua pursed her lips. “You do realize what that outfit is typically used for, correct?”
“Not really, no,” the unicorn blithely replied. “Lemme guess, it’s some sort of an exotic dancer’s getup?”
“Not quite . It’s not uncommon that they’re used for wedding ceremonies,” the girl clarified, blushing slightly.
Leech lifted a finger, intent to say something witty, but drew a total blank. There was no way that Mkuu didn’t know the cultural implications of the getup, which didn’t leave much room for speculation; either he just had a thing for marriage attire or his intentions with her weren’t as shallow as she’d first assumed. Feeling her heart flutter, and mouth go dry, she simply nodded.
“My bust is a thirty-eight C, and I’m a small waist size. If you have something that’s a bit generous in the hips, I wouldn’t mind,” she stated. “Just give me a few minutes, I’ll be right back .”
Without waiting for a response, she wheeled around and strutted to the restroom. Regardless of whether or not Mkuu was going to publicly breed her, there was something she’d need to take care of beforehand. Moving past the displays of clothing, and past a trio of fitting rooms, she found her way to the lavatory. As she closed and locked the door behind herself, she quickened her pace.
While it wasn’t exactly a charming procedure, she wanted to make sure that her foal-factory was primed and ready for her lover’s essence. Seating herself on the toilet, she spread her legs, reached down, and uncorked her stuffed marehood. As fun as it was to walk around with Mkuu’s spunk in her depths, she’d need to be empty before they fooled around again - as such, a preemptive draining was due. Bearing down, shivering in place, she squeezed the jizz out of herself.
As she eased herself back, one hand drifted to her groin. As shameful as it was, the evening and all the lustful talk, as well as dirty promises, had really gotten her worked up. She tried to tell herself that rubbing one out would help her taut canal relax, allowing the cum she’d been toting about to more easily flow from her sex, but it was a pitiful excuse - in truth, she just let her compulsions take control. Sinking two fingers into her marehood, feeling Mkuu’s seed flow over her hand, she softly groaned.
It was a bit of a messy, somewhat noisy process, grunting and contracting her abs, but she was eventually able to work most of the cum out of herself. Standing up and straightening her getup, effectively edging herself for some action later, she turned to the mirror and gave herself a once-over. Sure enough, her slightly bulged gut had disappeared, returning her flat, soft belly to its usual state.
“Don’t you worry ,” she murmured to herself, rubbing her lower abdomen, “if we get lucky, we’ll be able to pull off the pregnant look before too long …” A sharp knock at the door nearly caused her to start, reminding her that she’d been in the restroom for a good few minutes.
“Ma’am,” Maua called, knocking a second time, “is everything alright?”
“Uh - yeah, everything is fine! I’m just finishing up,” Leech blurted, flushing the spunk and tissue down the drain. Quickly running her fingers through her mane, after washing and stashing the plug in her satchel, she opened the door and found the clerk waiting just outside. “You find those in my size?”
The zebra nodded, moments before sniffing the air. If it hadn’t been obvious that she’d been thoroughly plowed a short time ago, the scent of cum and sex made it excruciatingly obvious that she was the stud’s - her stud’s plaything. Emboldened by the girl’s flustered expression, she passed by and cheekily smirked.
“I can’t be sure, but he might be the type who’d like a little extra company in the bedroom,” she cooed, brushing against the mare’s shoulder.
Maua’s face went a deep crimson, standing in stark contrast to the black and white of her banded face. The cute, clearly embarrassed reaction was too precious, and nearly caused Leech to press the subject, but she decided to let the matter lie. Giving the smallest nod, unwilling or unable to give a reply, the zebra offered the properly sized garments over and stepped to the side.
It only took a matter of minutes for Leech to try on both the outfits, which both fit her perfectly. The leather top and skirt did look quite fetching on her, and were quite comfortable as well, but the bedlah was by far her favorite of the two. Revealing, breathable, and erotic to a fault, the garment was made to enhance one’s sensual beauty. Only reluctantly taking it off, after inspecting herself from every possible angle, she slipped back into the simpler getup and emerged from the fitting room.
To her pleasant surprise, she found Mkuu and Maua chatting and waiting for her. Though the stallion said he’d be back shortly, she’d expected him to take a bit longer than he had. Strutting up to him, boldly resting one hand on his hip, she smiled up at the towering stallion. As he peered down at her, appraising her from bottom to top, his eyes eventually settled on her face.
“I must say, that looks quite fetching on you,” he remarked.
Spinning in place, letting him see her back, Leech shot him a wink. “If you think this looks good, you should see how I look in the other one.”
Mkuu felt certain that she’d look nothing short of ravishing in the scandalous attire, but that would have to wait - at least for a brief time. Fetching the potions had been much easier than he’d anticipated, and the apothecary had assured him they were exceptionally potent, so their hastily laid plans were nearly in place. Loosening the drawstring of his coin pouch, he fished out a number of gold bits and offered them to the clerk.
“I believe this should be enough,” he intoned, dropping the coins into her outstretched hand, “feel free to keep any change as a gratuity.”
With her eyes alight, Maua bagged the purchase and gave a small bow. “My thanks, Sir.”
Beckoning with a finger, more eager than he cared to admit, he offered his hand to his mate. “Come.”
Stepping to his side, lacing her fingers with his, the unicorn obeyed. Though she’d proven herself to be quite a handful, he was reasonably sure that she could be molded into the perfect broodmare. She was already smitten with him, so far as he could tell, so giving her a foal would more than likely strengthen their bond, especially since he had every intention of satiating her carnal needs well into the future. Walking out with her, thanking the shopkeep a final time, he strolled outside and onto the sidewalk.
Spying a bag in his free hand, Leech casually loosened her grip, stepped around him, and thrust her hand into the sack. Her fingers caressed two small bottles, meaning one of two things - either he’d gone out and grabbed them something to drink, or he hadn’t been bluffing about making her a mother. Freeing and inspecting one of the two vials, her heart skipped a beat; as she’d suspected, she was holding some fertility elixir.
Without a second thought, she uncorked the bottle, brought it to her lips, and downed the contents. If the concoction was like most of the potions she’d experimented with in the past, it wouldn’t take long for the effects to kick in - that being said, she wanted to make good and sure that she was in the throes of a very severe heat before they actually did the deed. Quickly grabbing his elixir, once she’d tossed her emptied vial into a recycling bin they’d passed, she handed the stallion his dose.
Mkuu didn’t think twice before taking the bottle, unstopped it with his teeth, and drained it in a single gulp. Since she seemed painfully keen on getting properly bred, he couldn’t help but match her enthusiasm. He’d more than likely end up knocking her up anyways, with or without alchemical enhancement, if they kept fucking the way they had been - he was just expediting the inevitable.
As the potions began to take effect, the pair moved with increased speed. Breaking into a light sweat, feeling her body temperature spike, Leech’s body was coerced into an estrus; though she couldn’t see it, she could almost sense her ovaries going into overdrive. Even with his stoic demeanor, the Mkuu didn’t didn’t fare much better; his balls churned and throbbed, ramping up the production of millions of sperm. By the time they reached their destination, spying the signature wooden sign with a black streak of paint splitting its center, the duo were practically jogging.
Bursting through the door, giving a terse greeting to the bouncer, Mkuu pointed to the far right of the club. “Go through there and change; I’ll make the arrangements here.”
“Y...yeah,” Leech stammered, releasing his hand and raced through the crowded room.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to take her time and appreciate the place, but her body demanded she get down to business. While she couldn’t speak for other mares, rarely if ever discussing the topic, estrus was an almost maddening process for her; her usual sex drive was amplified several times over, making it nearly impossible to think about anything but dick. Under normal circumstances, she’d medicate herself to prevent the hormonal maelstrom of going into season, but this was different - this was intentional.
As she scurried into the mare’s room, locking the door behind herself, her thoughts ran wild. She’d been prudent enough to notice that there were several strippers on the stage, all in various states of undress, so wearing her new outfit probably wouldn’t be an issue. Carefully removing her skirt, and quickly donning the profoundly provocative garment, she got ready as fast as she possibly could. It wasn’t until she was dressed did she check herself in the mirror.
Though she was technically wearing clothing, for all intents and purposes, she may as well have been naked. Her breasts were visible, as was her engorged and leaking snatch, yet she couldn’t care less. Showing off her body was the least of her concerns, since she’d be getting publicly railed out while more than likely howling like a depraved maniac in a matter of no time. Fondling her bust, getting her nipples nice and hard, she smiled at her reflection, turned, and sashayed out of the restroom.
The club was densely packed, with several dozen patrons chatting or watching an exotic dancer work her sexual art. Most of the venue seemed to consist of a single, cavernous chamber, with a stage situated at the back wall, a bar, and tables scattered throughout, although she felt certain there was an employees only area and possibly VIP rooms tucked away somewhere. Weaving through the throng, indifferently waving or winking at the few patrons brave enough to compliment her, she looked for her host.
“That was Jasmine Delight! Let’s give her a warm round of applause!” an announcer blared, evoking a roar from the audience. “Now we’re...Hang on a second! It seems like we’ll be having a special show this evening! Who here wants to see a bitch get bred?!”
Leech’s heart skipped a beat, as her eyes immediately flew to the raised platform. Unless there was another couple planning to put on a very debaucherous show, it was her time to shine. Moving towards the stage, politely excusing herself to make her way, she saw him; large as life and sexy as all get-out, Mkuu strutted up a small set of stairs and into the spotlight. Despite the noise, excitement, and bustling bodies, the only thing she could focus on was him.
Squeezing past the last few patrons, making it to the stage’s edge, she found him waiting for him. Stars above - it may have been her heat, but he seemed even bigger and hotter than ever. As he pulled her onto the platform, grinning down at her, she gnawed her lip. Yeah, having some spectators was just a bonus; one way or another, she knew she’d end up carrying his foal.
Mkuu brushed a lock of hair from her face, admiring her brilliant eyes, before pulling her towards the stripper pole at the platform’s center. “Care to...oh ,” he grunted, as she slowly started lowering herself.
Without any prompting whatsoever, completely skipping the DJ’s introduction, she rested into a deep squat, plucked the knot tying his loincloth in place, and disrobed him. He’d hoped they could work the club up a bit, maybe start things with some fondling or teasing, but she wouldn’t be denied. Between the unfettered view of his equipment and her obscene posture, the onlookers went absolutely wild .
Burying her veiled snout in his balls, huffing his musk, she shuffled slightly to the side. It took him a second to figure out what she was doing, but then it clicked; she wasn’t moving to make herself more comfortable, she was moving to give the crowd a better view of the action. With her thighs parted, allowing the audience a view of her groin, she slowly kissed her way up his hardening length.
Leech always did her damnedest to service a lover, regardless of where she was or who was watching, yet doing so in front of an audience was a bit thrilling. Closing her eyes, she flipped the cloth over her crotch to the side and revealed her slavering marehood - all while she gradually made her way to the tip of the stud’s cock. Getting off while blowing someone was a favorite of hers, a fact she had every intention of capitalizing on. Reaching the blunted tip of his length, she slipped him into her muzzle and sank two fingers into her sex.
Though they’d both showered earlier, the lingering taste of his rich spunk and sweat clung to his shaft, coating her taste buds. Forcing her head forward, effortlessly sliding him into the snug confines her throat, she steadily worked his stallionhood into her gullet. She could have fellated nearly all of him in a single move, asserting her dominance, but that wasn’t her role - not now. This was a dance, a show of submission, and she had an entire club that needed to know it.
As hot as the view was from his perspective, Mkuu couldn’t help but imagine what it was like to watch from the club floor. Towering over an obedient pony mare, gingerly resting one hand on the back of her head, he must have looked like a sexual titan ; the thought stroked his ego, fanning the flames of his lust. Tightening his grip on her skull, turning slightly more towards her, he hauled her towards his groin.
Letting her blow him was entertaining enough, and served as a decent opening act, but he knew what they were there for. She was a mare, a unicorn mare, and she was submitting herself to him. He’d striped, choked, collared, and used her as an outlet for his sexual desires, because that’s what she was. To him, regardless of how clever or charming she was, she was beneath him. The only difference between her and most other mares was that she knew her place, and she reveled in it.
Growling, rutting into her snout, he stared down at her. Her bewitching, cat-like eyes peered up and locked with his own, glimmering in the light. He wasn’t going all out, assuring she could catch a breath every handful of thrusts, although he couldn’t say the same for his lover. Lifting an arm, abandoning her snatch, she wrapped her fingers around her neck and choked herself.
Effectively giving him a handjob while throating him, Leech affectionately fondled and squeezed the stud’s meaty balls. It was slightly regrettable that she’d stopped fingering herself, yet she wasn’t terribly bothered. She’d end up cumming sooner or later, hopefully while the colossal zebra was plowing her, so she could wait. Tightening her grip and shifting her hand, she felt his cock-head plunging into her esophagus.
Her eyes watered, streaming tears down her face, but she didn’t relent in the slightest. She wasn’t just doing this for the club, she was doing this for him . Someone of the stallion’s status was leagues beyond her, having made something of himself, so she’d have to prove she was worth it. If pledging herself to him would win his favor, it was a small price to pay.
Noticing the mare’s eyes starting to roll back, seeing her face redden, he relaxed his grip and stepped away. Feeling his stallionhood clear her airway, she sharply inhaled and stifled a weak cough. While he couldn’t be completely certain, it had honestly looked like she’d been about to strangle herself to the point of blacking out. He’d been with mares of various ages and backgrounds, having bedded a fair number in his day, but he could honestly say he’d never seen one willing and able to choke themselves out to please him.
Offering his hand to her, he helped her to her feet. She was definitely special, and most assuredly had a fair number of secrets, yet he was sure of one thing - he would make her his. Dreamily grinning at his face, twisting her body away from him, she invitingly wiggled her behind. The seductive gesture was cute, and he felt certain that it would have worked on almost anyone else, but he didn’t budge. Screwing her in a standing doggy would have been simple, almost amateurish, and he had something much, much better in mind.
Stepping over to her, he grabbed her shoulders, stood her up, and pressed her back to his chest. “Grab my neck and hold on ,” he growled, having brought his muzzle to her ear.
Reaching up, locking her hands over his thick neck, Leech did as he asked. She’d intended to get banged while using the stripper pole as support, or possibly in a standing cowgirl possession, so his request left her puzzled. The disparity of their sizes and the utter lack of any furniture limited what they could do with one another, yet he clearly had something in mind. As the massive stallion straightened up, leaving her feet dangling just above the stage, he patted her thigh.
The second he lightly touched her, it clicked. The positioning, the way he was turning her to face the audience, and just how tall he was meant there was one position and one position only he was hoping to pull off - a full nelson fuck . Lifting and spreading her legs, feeling her snatch eagerly dripping to the floor, his arms reached out and locked under her knees. Locked in place, effectively pinned to his body, she peered between breasts.
Although she’d become very familiar with him and his massive endowment, seeing his stallionhood from such an angle was downright inspirational and easily one of the hottest things she’d ever seen. Protruding from behind her, a mere inch or two beneath her marehood, his dick looked nearly as big as her arm. Slowly lifting her, he flexed his hips and expertly brought her entrance to the leaking tip of his monstrous tool.
“Ready to give them a show ?” he breathed into her ear.
“I was born ready, Stud,” she purred, licking the side of his muzzle.
With nothing left to say, and everything left to do, the pair began their depraved display. Using his superior size and strength to his advantage, utilizing his full potential, Mkuu impaled the mare on his throbbing shaft. Crying out, Leech squealed out and thrashed in his grasp. Standing on the pulpit, displaying their passion for the lecherous congregation, they began the show.
Leech’s arms hung to her sides, as she was wantonly plowed - still, she was far from powerless. The decades worth of kegel exercises were for moments like these, allowing her to constrict her canal around his girthy shaft. Even while immobilized or bound, virtually every part of her body was exceptionally trained in the carnal arts. Loosening up on his thrusts, feeling him nudge her womb, she savagely tightened around him on his backstrokes.
The flash of cameras was a welcome reminder that the moment was being recorded, though she’d have to remind herself to get a copy of any particularly good videos or photos. Impending impregnation notwithstanding, having a memento from the occasion would make for a damn good keepsake. Shuffling her legs slightly closer together, as he clutched the back of her head, she contorted herself and milked his pistoning length.
Mkuu wasn’t normally one to bask in the adoration of others, yet he couldn’t help himself from relishing the moment. This was what zebra stallions were supposed to do, to conquer and subjugate those lesser than themselves, and he loved it. Without question, it was the first time he’d openly dominated anyone in such a sinful manner, causing his heart to thunder in his chest.
Slipping into a rut-lust, he ramped up the intensity. While he wasn’t that concerned with the mare’s comfort, her amorous yowling and the iron-grip of her cunt made it obvious that she was enjoying herself as much as him. He’d heard that opposites attract, and it was apparently true; out of all the females he’d bedded, he found himself drawn to her like a moth to flame.
Simultaneously lowering her body and bucking his hips, he used her weight against her. While it wasn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world, he wasn’t concerned about how long he’d last. He could practically sense her desire to be bred, and he was more than happy to oblige that need. Incrementally bringing her body lower and lower, he beat against her womb; she’d be his, soon enough, whether or not she’d fully accepted it or not.
Her first climax hit moments after his stallionhood bludgeoned its way through her cervix. Wracked with ecstasy, mewling incoherently, she lost control of herself. Her toes curled, her thighs trembled, and her marehood lewdly squelched fem-cum, yet she endured. Forcing herself to concentrate, she forced her body to obey; be damned if she was just going to be fucked like a rag doll, especially with people watching!
Moaning with every thrust, squeezing her tits together, she openly drooled over her jiggling bust. It was a proven fact that the overwhelming majority of stallions liked two things, overpowering a mare and knowing that their mate was enjoying their efforts - as such, she gave the stallion both . Throwing her head back, filling her lungs with air, she howled like a beast possessed.
“Yes!” she wailed. “Ruin me for any of these pathetic pony stallions! I live for big, juicy zebra cock !”
All Mkuu could manage was an approving grunt, but his motions spoke more than words. Fucking her with everything he had, he flew into a frenzy. He knew he couldn’t keep up the furious pouncing forever - then again, he didn’t care. She’d soon belong to him, in every possible way, so he could leisurely satiate himself with her whenever and wherever he wanted. His muscles bulged, the blood in his veins ran hot, and he snorted over her neck, as he gave her what she deserved.
Minutes dragged by, though Leech was unsure of how long they’d been going at it. She could practically feel her insides being rearranged, molded to suit him and only him, and the sensation was breathtaking. It wasn’t long before she peaked a second time, but something changed after that. The orgasmic aftershocks became self-sustaining, feeding into one another, and they nearly broke her mind under the rapturous onslaught.
With the din of the crowd drowning out the sounds of their fleshly delight, their bodies covered in sweat, their exhibition reached a crescendo. The stallion gave her one final thrust, hilting himself as deeply as possible, as his pendulous nuts drew taut against his groin. Giving a triumphant bellow, with his cock flaring within her womb, he came.
Though neither could appreciate their display, they were a sight to behold. Mkuu’s length, glistening in marish nectar, throbbed and pulsed in the dim light, as his essence erupted within her. While he’d always been quite productive for a stallion, the potion doubled his output and increased the potency of his seed several times over; it was enough to inseminate dozens of mares, yet it was solely meant for his mate.
Inspired, holding her to himself, he shifted his head and bit down on the side of her neck. His teeth sank deep, breaking her flesh and drawing blood, as he gave her his gift. She screamed and thrashed, wringing every drop cum from his shaft, yet he refused to let her go. Beyond any shadow of doubt, she was his.
The surge of pain mingled with her ecstasy, pushing her past her limits. Every other climax she’d ever had paled in comparison to that moment, and she immediately knew why. The sensation of heat blossoming inside her, realizing that they were making life, was beyond words - nearly beyond comprehension. She could feel her abdomen swelling, being filled with an absolutely profound amount of seething cum, yet he didn’t slow.
Utterly overwhelmed, her senses began to fail; her head spun, odd flickers of light filled her vision, and her limbs felt heavy. How anyone could withstand something so intense was beyond her, although she managed to stay conscious - if only just. She honestly couldn’t say how long he held her, pumping her full of his foal-batter, but it eventually came to an end.
Lifting her up, he unsheathed his softening length from her tender, battered marehood. To her amazement, perilously little of his jizz escaped her, though she couldn’t explain why; perhaps the elixir had made his load thicker than usual, or her body instinctively coveted the precious seed - in either case, only the slightest bit of spunk crept down her inner thigh. Heaving air into her chest, while her feet touched the stage, a gratified exhaustion fell over her.
“So it is done,” Mkuu huffed, holding her steady.
There was a pretty good chance that he’d have to carry her out, given how unsteady she seemed, but he wouldn’t mind. While he may not have looked it, putting on a bold front, he felt nearly as tired as she looked. With one arm around her back, looking down at her swollen belly, he held her to his side.
“J...just one more thing,” Leech wheezed, groggily peering up at his face. As he met her gaze and cocked a brow, she smirked. “Kiss me.”
Leaning in, Mkuu did just that. A passionate kiss, before the teeming mass of witnesses, was the perfect finale for their little escapade. In a decidedly perverse way, it was like some parody of a wedding. There they were, hotly making out after fucking like lust-crazed animals, as the depraved masses cheered them on. It was almost romantic, and it complimented their wanton need for one another perfectly.
Breaking their kiss, Leech sweetly caressed his muzzle. “I hope that’s enough for you today, because all I want is a nice hot bath and a warm bed to sleep in.”
“With me by your side, I should hope,” Mkuu cheekily countered, fondling her breast.
“Of course, who else am I going to have feeding me grapes?” she teased.
Her mirth was infectious, causing him to snicker. “I’ll summon a cab for us, once we’ve gathered your things.”
She took a single unsteady step, before nearly falling against him. “Good, because I ain’t hiking back to the embassy like this.”
Slowly making their way through the crowd, ignoring the shouts and adulation, they eased their way towards the exit. Though their evening had taken an unexpected and wholly momentous turn, neither regretted their actions. The consequences and subsequent planning count wait until the morning, after they’d cleaned themselves and gotten a well deserved night’s rest, but they were each sure of one thing - they’d be there to entertain and support one another for quite some time...
Reclining on the bed, with her back resting against the headboard, Leech lazily licked her thumb and turned the page of the book in her hand. She’d worked the last three days in a row, minding to the embassy’s gift shop, so she was not about to let her much needed rest and relaxation be hindered - not by her fellow staff members, not by her mate, and definitely not by any of the painfully maternity garments she’d acquired. Feeling a not so subtle kick from within her abdomen, she reached down and stroked her large belly.
“Pipe down in there, I’m trying to relax,” she grumbled, lightheartedly scolding one of the foals within her.
The last eight months had been pretty wild, but not in a bad way. As she’d assumed, shortly after Mkuu had railed her out in front of an absolutely loaded club, she found out she was thoroughly knocked-up - in fact, not long after discovering that she was expecting, she learned she’d be having a set of twins. Not only had the big lug sired two foals with her, but he made good on his promise of securing a job at the Zebrican consulate for her.
The first few weeks of her new life had been simple enough, carefreely tending to visitors, ringing up purchases, and answering questions, but things eventually took a turn. The morning sickness had been an absolute bastard, leading to many hours of her cursing over the toilet, yet her gradual maternal metamorphosis had more than made up for the sore feet, bouts of stomach upset, and odd culinary cravings. As time passed, and her gravidness progressed, she came to embrace her impending motherly state.
Her breasts grew heavy and swollen with milk, her stomach gradually seemed to expand with each passing day, and her figure filled out to a marked degree. While many mares would likely be put off of self-conscious by such changes, she absolutely loved what she’d become. The hallmarks of maternity were a badge of honor for her, though she couldn’t help herself from getting additional embellishments for herself.
Shortly after discovering she’d been successfully inseminated, she got several piercings. Her ears, nipples, and clit were adorned with golden rings. If left to heal on their own, her new body jewelry would have been sore and tender for weeks ; thankfully, with the help of potent salves and medical magic, they were nothing but pleasurable and eye catching in less than a day. Aside from the orientation, she’d also seen fit to make the temporary stripes adorning her figure decidedly more lasting .
It hadn’t been all that difficult to find a tattoo parlor which specialized in coat markings, seeing as how the capital had virtually everything available, so she was permanently striped after she’d gotten her first paycheck. The decision had taken Mkuu by surprise, but he’d been immeasurably pleased with her dedication. Between the white bands on her fur, her various piercings, and rounded belly, anyone and everyone would instantly know who and what she’d devoted her life to.
While she would’ve never guessed she’d wind up as such a devout zebra lover, she couldn’t be happier. What had begun as a physical attraction to her mate had grown into something beautiful, with her practically worshiping the ground he stepped on. Mind and body, she belonged to Mkuu, venerated him with every facet of her being, and she loved every minute of it. The fact that he genuinely revered her and reciprocated her affection made her fealty all the more rewarding.
He would indulge her marish needs whenever she wanted, never failing to satisfy her, and he ensured she was well cared for. For the first time in her life, she hadn’t gone without. Food, clothing, a comfortable bed, and a roof over her head would have been enough to keep anyone happy, but those were only part of her new life; the thing she adored most, above everything else, was that he genuinely treasured her.
The way he’d tenderly caress or kiss her belly, fondle and suckle her udder-like breasts, or simply hold her were to die for, but his lovemaking skills were absolutely unparalleled. As she was quick to discover, the hormones flooding her system elevated her libido to an unfathomable degree - still, being the sympathetic and doting mate that he was, Mkuu never left her wanting. Though he may have become slightly more gentle with her, keenly aware of their young within her, his ministrations left nothing to be desired.
Simply thinking about her adonic paramour sent an excited shiver up her spine and caused her hand to wander to her groin. His strength, good looks, and exquisite endowment were only rivaled by his compassion and romantic nature - sure, he could be kinky as all get-out, but she considered that the icing on the cake. Spreading her legs, sliding two fingers into her sex, she massaged her g-spot.
“Fuck ,” Leech groaned, closing her book and setting it to the side.
Bouts of masturbation had become increasingly frequent for her, since she and her mate both had duties to attend to, but they only served as a bit of temporary relief. Once properly worked up, the only thing that would scratch her lustful itch was her lover and his big, meaty stallionhood. She had gotten a dildo for herself, for the times when he was absent, but even that wasn’t enough to fully satisfy her.
Bracing her legs, bucking up into her palm, she desperately sought to get herself off. Her free hand wandered to one slumped teat, pulling and lightly twisting upon the hoop of gold through her nipple. She’d been told that the piercings wouldn’t affect her lactation, or her foals’ ability to nurse, which allowed her to enjoy the adornments all the more freely. Closing her eyes, wondering when her stud would get done with his shift, she failed to notice the sound of softly approaching hooffalls.
Mkuu had expected his meeting with the Yakyakistani dignitary to last much longer than it had, but he wasn’t about to complain. The appointment was his last item for the day, and its relatively short duration allowed him to finish up almost an hour earlier than usual. Seeing himself up to his suite, eager to see his faithful mate, he slowed by the door. Considering there was a good chance she was napping, he didn’t want to barge in and disturb her - as such, silently peeking into the room, he was surprised to find her shamelessly getting off.
She was truly an amazing creature, and motherhood had done nothing but improve her looks. Her charm and alluring figure was magnified by her gravid state, mountainous rack, jewelry, and stripes, yet they were merely accents. Her wit and sultry nature were beyond provocative, winning him over and making him all the more proud that they’d created life together. Idling by the doorway, watching her softly pant and touch herself, his loins stirred.
Sneaking inside, moving as quietly as his titanic frame would allow, he silently undid the knot affixing his loincloth in place. Having worked nearly a full day, and been ruthlessly teased by his mistress that morning, he was definitely up for entertaining his mate. As he stroked himself off, his stallionhood swelled to its full, profound size. Some much needed stress relief could do them both a bit of good, yet he couldn’t help himself from giving her a small surprise.
“Enjoying yourself?” he purred.
The mare yelped and rolled to the side, startled by the sudden and wholly unexpected intrusion. Her huge tummy and immense breasts made the maneuver downright comedic, resulting in her unintentionally squishing her tits together, causing milk to spray over the sheets. Unable to control himself, shaking his head in amusement, he fought back a chuckle.
“Ha ha ha - very funny,” Leech groused, realizing a moment too late that the intruder was none other than her lover.
Glowering up at him, a subtle motion near his groin caught her attention. Her eyes wandered lower, ultimately settling on the swaying length of ebony flesh at his loins. That little annoyance she had evaporated in an instant, replaced by her insatiable hunger for his cock. With a small grunt, she heaved herself onto her back, splayed her legs, and clutched one massive mammary in each hand.
“You know, I could start charging you for my services,” Mkuu chuckled, crawling onto the bed and between her supple thighs.
Caressing his hip with her toes, watching him draw nearer, her muzzle split in a chin. “You’d charge your Queen for plowing her?”
“Queen of the sluts?” he mused, bringing the tip of his shaft to drooling marehood.
She locked her legs around him and drew him in, as he sank his cock into her. “Hush and give your Slut Queen what she needs ,” she whispered, trembling in delight.
His stallionhood ground into her slowly, allowing her to relish every contour and snaking vein along its sizable length. No matter how many times they did it, regardless of which position he delved her silken depths, she never tired of the sensations he afforded. He was a god made manifest, the paragon of masculinity, and she’d somehow been lucky enough to bag him for herself. If or when the day came that he chose to share his bed with another, she couldn’t be bothered - after all, she knew she’d sunk the hooks in him.
Wrapping her legs around his hips, as he steadily seated the head of his length against her womb, she shuddered and clenched her marehood around him. His body loomed over her, vastly larger and more powerful than herself, yet she wasn’t afraid - if anything, the disparity between them made her appreciate him all the more. Lazily walking two fingers up his chest, over his shoulder, and to the back of his head, she pulled him towards her chest.
“Come to mama ,” she sighed, pressing his snout against a milk-streaked, obsidian nipple.
Mkuu wrapped his lips around her teat, coating his tongue in the rich cream streaming from her bosom. Aside from physically looking the part, she’d undergone a gradual mental shift; she was still lustful to a fault, yet her carnal wants had become tinged with the maternal. Though he would have never guessed he’d develop a kink for being fawned over in such an affectionate way, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it.
Draped over her expansive belly, he started thrusting - not the rough, desperate plunges he often favored, but the slow, methodical strokes of one making love. Ravishing her, plowing her with reckless abandon, had been fun, yet that time had passed; now that she was heavy with foal, their times of intimacy were oftentimes more tender. Reaching down, worming his arms under her back, he held her to himself.
Kissing his crown, breathing his scent, she ran her fingers through his mohawk. “What did I - Mmmmph - do to deserve you?”
“Besides giving yourself to me?” he countered, momentarily peeking up at her.
“I think you do most of the giving , considering you’ve probably donated gallons of spunk to me and my foal-factory already,” she giggled, leaning in and kissing his nose. “Now how about you make another deposit .”
Shifting his face back to her breast, rolling her head back, she closed her eyes. Her question hadn’t been rhetorical in the slightest. She considered herself immeasurably fortunate to have found such a magnificent stallion - doubly so, seeing as how he’d deemed her worthy of keeping. Flexing her legs, fixating on the wondrous feelings washing over her. His voice, scent, taste, beauty, and soft but firm touch were simply awe inspiring, comforting beyond belief, and she cherished every divine moment of his company.
Gradually increasing the speed and force of his plunges, angling them to best stimulate his lover, he savored her like a fine cuisine. Her soft moans of ecstasy were a delight, the embrace of her marehood was like molten silk, and her delicately feminine fragrance was intoxicating, spurring him onward. He wouldn’t have thought he’d fall for a pony, yet there he was snared in her web.
On and on they went, growing increasingly heated, with each attempting to please the other. Unlike the times after they’d met, succumbing to their bestial and baser urges, they took their time to enjoy it, reveling in what they’d become. Under the basking afternoon light, with a warm breeze blowing in through the open window, their souls intertwined.
“D...Don’t stop ,” she stammered, feeling the telltale signs of release blossoming within her.
Her plea drove him onward, sending him closer to the edge. Rutting a mare was one thing, but the sensual act of consummating with her was different. Tightening his grip, with his churning balls slapping against her rump, his endurance waned. His stallionhood throbbed, with the head of his cock flaring to nearly double its normal size, as he rocketed towards release.
Sensing that his time was short, teetering on the brink herself, Leech launched forward and locked lips with him. Their tongues warred with one another, and their breath mingled, as they crossed the threshold together. Tears of unfettered joy streamed down her face, streaking her cheeks and dripping to the blanket, while he returned every ounce of her passion.
Seed flooded her quivering depths, and climactic nectar dribbled out of her stuffed entrance, yet they didn’t slow. Like many times before, and doubtlessly many times to come, the moment was magical beyond words, a culmination of what they’d become. While they were different in almost every conceivable way, when together, they formed something greater than the sum of their parts. They were a team, they were a couple, and they were soon to be proud parents of twins.
“Fuck - I love you so god damned much ,” she wept, overwhelmed with emotion.
Bracing himself on one arm, Mkuu pushed himself up. “And I you ,” he breathed, leaning in and hotly making out with her.
What they had was something new, something neither had experienced, and they wouldn’t trade it for the world. Each gave the other something they needed, though it had taken them some time to realize it. Though fate had brought them together, seemingly from nowhere, they belonged together, complemented one another, and they knew they’d be there for each other for ages to come, regardless of what mysteries, marvels, or misfortunes awaited them…
Feeling a weight settle upon him, Mkuu sharply inhaled and cracked an eye. Being suddenly and unexpectedly awakened wasn’t exactly ideal, but his drowsy mind did what it could to rouse itself. It was Saturday, so far as he knew, so there was no reason for him to be getting up so early - unfortunately, his live-in mistress seemed to have other plans. Feeling the hot, supple, and deliciously moist sensation of his lover’s marehood grinding against his flaccid length, he grinned.
“Someone’s needy this morning,” he wearily intoned, peeking up at her.
Seeing her lean back, giving him a superb view of her swollen belly, udder-like breasts, and impish smile, his stallionhood eagerly twitched. Impending motherhood was a very compelling look for her, with or without her Zebrican-themed embellishments, though the stripes, jewelry, and her pierced ears, all homages to whom she belonged, elevated her beauty to a nigh-unfathomable level. Content to see what she had in mind for him, seeing as how she’d interrupted his well-deserved sleep, he watched her sway her leaking bosoms from side to side.
“Care for some breakfast?” she softly giggled, hefting one titanic mammary in each hand.
His little smirk, paired with his length twitching against her sopping wet nethers, was all the encouragement she needed. Sliding forward, dragging her snatch over his cock, she leaned in and brought one tit to his rising head. As his dark, full lips latched around her teat, eagerly suckling her milk, a tingle of pleasure coursed through her.
Though it was a relatively recent development, she’d quickly grown to love the feeling of being nursed upon. Rocking her hips forward and back, relishing the sensation of his hardening stallionhood against her, she bit her lip. She had no idea how other mothers dealt with maternity, but her ordinarily high sex-drive had become nearly insatiable.
Creeping up his chiseled frame, allowing the tip of his shaft to spring between her ample thighs, she swiftly reversed course and kissed her drooling sex against the blunted tip of his dick. While she would have preferred him to take the initiative, grabbing her hips and ramming his cock into her, she was not above getting things started. Slipping one hand behind his head, supporting herself on one arm, she pulled his face into her boob while impaling herself on him.
As he stretched her open, feeling every glorious vein and ridge along his godly tool, she subconsciously groaned. Even if there were bigger, more heavily endowed stallions in the world, she doubted there was anyone who could rival her stud. From his distinct mohawk to his pedicured toes, each and every part of him was perfect, as if the heavens themselves had crafted and gifted him to her.
Slowly leaning back, keeping her one bosom held to his lips, she found herself at an impasse; either she could fully commit to riding him, unlatching him from her breast in the process, or she could half-assedly fuck him and hope he’d get riled up enough to screw her knocked-up brains out. Hesitantly choosing the latter option, enjoying the pleasure and relief of having the pressure eased from her breast, she languidly moved her lower half forward and back. Despite only milking the first few inches of his member, the exquisite fullness he afforded was enough to satisfy her - at least, for the time being.
Mkuu had been with his little broodmare for long enough to know when she was needy, which was nearly all the time, yet he’d grown fond of testing her patience. Much like training an animal, giving the lustful pony what she wanted was counterintuitive and would lead to little more than her expecting his affection. If she craved his attention, she was going to have to work for it, even if he really didn’t mind indulging her.
One benefit of his tutelage was that his personal harlot had quickly learned exactly what it took to earn his favor, adding the knowledge to her already considerable carnal skill. As reluctant as he was to admit it, there were few, if any females he’d been with who could contest with her sensuality, grace, and unquestionably provocative nature. Bucking his hips ever so slightly, giving her a small reward for her efforts, he felt her shiver atop him.
“Tell me, once you’ve birthed our foals, what would you have me do with you?” he mused, momentarily pausing from suckling her breast.
It may have seemed like an odd question, but he was genuinely curious to hear her answer. She’d permanently marked herself as a zebra devotee, and their children would undoubtedly bear hallmarks of his kind, so anyone she came across would instantly know where her preferences for stallions lie - that being said, she’d never explicitly said her ultimate intentions. For all he knew, he may be little more than another notch in her doubtlessly expansive list of sexual conquests.
Grinding to a halt, Leech peered down at his face. “Seriously?”
He nodded once, smiling up at her all the while. The question struck her as odd, given the timing, but it was one she’d increasingly dwelled on over the past few months. Truth be told, she’d had every intention of continuing her wanderings throughout Equestria, prior to meeting her striped Adonis, yet that desire had slowly waned. Her time with him had brought her some of the happiest moments she’d had in months - no, years .
She’d never given much thought to settling down, though he’d changed her mind on the matter. The fact that they were expecting two kids, the way he looked after her, and his charming personality were all damn compelling points to stay with him - that is, if he’d keep her. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out he preferred his females to be servile and obedient, the former of which came naturally to her, but that didn’t necessarily mean he meant to maintain or elevate their questionable relationship.
Pushing herself up and into a kneeling position, hilting him within her depths, she met his eyes. “Marry me…”
He’d felt certain that she’d give some flippant answer, possibly suggesting that he keep her as a pet, so he was taken aback by her earnest response. For her to ask something so grand of him was bold - even foolish, yet he couldn’t deny how attached he’d become to her. She was a breath of fresh air, fine company, and her sexual prowess was some of, if not the best he’d ever experienced. Reaching out and resting his hands on her hips, delicately caressing her soft coat, he maintained eye contact.
“And what makes you think I, a Zebrican ambassador, would find a simple pony worthy of being my bride?” he countered, keeping his tone cool and impassive.
Haughtily gyrating atop him, clamping down around his shaft, she smirked. “Because I’m the best lay you ever had, you know you like having me around, and I’ll do everything I can to please you and our little family,” she whispered. “Admit it, we were made for each other.”
Opening his mouth to reply, keen on giving a pithy rebuttal, Mkuu found himself speechless. For a female of any species, let alone a pony, to make such a fearless declaration was unheard of, yet the conviction of her words fanned the flames of his passion. He could tell that she’d meant what she said, that much was certain, but it wasn’t until that moment that he fully comprehended just how deeply he cared for her.
“Brazen ,” he murmured, thrusting into her and nearly setting her off balance. “You’re a brazen and impetuous whore .”
“But - Fuck - I’m your whore,” she grunted, throwing her not insubstantial weight upon him. “And you love it.”
Their battle of wills, juxtaposed by their roles, swiftly escalated to an all too real conflict of their bodies. He was the stud, and she was the vixen; two parts of a whole, yet wildly different in a great many ways. Smirking at one another, launching into a furious session of lovemaking, each struggled for dominance in their own unique way.
“I have half a mind to - Mmmph - put a leash on you and keep you by my side - when you’re not locked in my room,” he growled, lifting and bracing his legs.
Resting her hands on his knees, she flashed her teeth at him. “Afraid that some other stud will steal me away?”
Though their banter was harsh and condescending, each somehow knew what the other was thinking - neither was leaving the other’s side. They’d given each other something they wanted - something they needed - companionship and the opportunity to build a legacy. Moving in tandem, with Leech slamming her ass down as Mkuu thrust up to meet her, their bodies collided.
“So how about it,” she whispered, pawing at her chest, “you want to make it official?”
“On one condition,” he breathed, growing motionless, “when I want to sire another foal, and I will want to sire more heirs, you will unquestionably surrender yourself to my wishes.”
Though she was impeded by her swollen abdomen, and the pair of children within, she bent forward and brought her nose to within an inch of his snout. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, my Lord .”
Lifting his head, maintaining eye contact, he caressed her legs. “After you’ve birthed our young, we shall have a grand Zebrican ceremony.”
“Oh?” she chirped. “And what would that entail?”
“I will carry you to my home village and parade you through town naked, while I gather my kin and tribe. Once everyone is assembled, you will swear your life and womb to me, promising to serve me until your last breath, before I ritualistically breed you and claim your womb.”
The notion of another exibitionistic insemination set her heart pounding and mouth watering, yet she didn’t look away. “And if anyone questions why you’re marrying an inferior, slatternly pony?”
His hands drifted up to her belly, tenderly stroking the taut skin. “They wouldn’t be foolish enough to question me…”
As innocuous as it was, his statement made Leech swoon. She’d known he cared for her, and enjoyed her company, yet the romantic implication of his words didn’t escape her. His offer meant that he really did want to be with her, to the point where he would confront any naysayers of his kind. Lifting one leg, unsheathing his length from her confines, she dismounted and turned to the side.
“I only have one small request,” she cooed, easing her considerable breasts down to the mattress.
Pushing himself up, watching her arch her back, he piqued a brow. “And what, pray tell, would my faithful concubine ask of me?”
“That our children have what I never did - a proper upbringing, a decent education, and a pair of loving parents to look after them,” she hummed, invitingly swaying her hips at him.
Her demand was remarkably humble, though not terribly surprising. Considering she’d shared tales of her youth, having grown up on the streets without a family, it made sense that she would wish for their foals to be raised in a supportive, nurturing environment. If she was half as good of a mother as she was a strumpet, he felt certain they’d be fine - still, it moved his heart to think she’d place them before any petty wants.
Rising to his knees, he shuffled up behind her and steadily sank his turgid shaft into her awaiting, perfectly presented snatch. Her welcoming depths embraced him, the lock to his key, as he gradually sheathed his entirety within her. Pony or not, the comfort and bliss she afforded was undeniable, easily as good or better than any he’d had before, yet he’d become far more enchanted with the clever, charming young mare that she was.
Leech groaned, wriggling one hand under herself to rub at her clit. His magnificent stallionhood was as sublime as ever, testing her limits and hitting all the right spots, but the gratification of knowing she would become his bride was even more satisfying than the physical pleasure he delivered. While she would have eagerly taken a more active roll, enthusiastically rocking back to meet him, carrying around twins, and the lethargy brought on by it, had dulled her typically spirited affection.
As he started thrusting, bumping against her womb, she felt one of their foals gently kick. Heaven help her if they were as rambunctious and demanding as their father, but she wasn’t all that concerned. Knowing he’d be there to help her raise them, acting as the foundational pillar of their family, her mind was at ease. Constricting on his backstrokes, kneading his steadily pistoning shaft, her eyelids drifted closed.
After an entire lifetime of searching, she’d finally found her true spot in the world. Confidant, lover, and soon-to-be mother of a pair of half-breed children, her life had come to revolve around her striped stud. Shuddering, feeling his thick medial scrape against her g-spot, her fingers caressed his stallionhood.
The view of her jiggling tush, back, and mountainous breasts, all anointed with bands of enchanted paint, was flawless, subconsciously inspiring him to gradually increase his pace. His weighty nuts slapped against her fingers, as his hips smacked against her upturned rump and plush thighs. Though she had put on a few pounds during her pregnancy, gaining softer curves, a much larger bust, and fuller waist, he actually found her even more appealing than she had been before.
Moving harder and faster with every passing second, caving to his bestial urges, he snorted. It really didn’t matter whom he chose to devote himself to, and if any of his coworkers, family, or tribe were foolish enough to question him, he would put them in their rightful place. She was his and, though he’d only reluctantly come to terms with it, he was hers. Hearing her stifle a joyful moan, angling his cock to better stimulate her, his motions quickened.
Her fingers practically flew over the delicate bud above her stuffed entrance, as she sensed him starting to throb. Climaxing before or after him was all well and fine, but reaching her peak alongside him was something special - something she always tried to achieve. As the head of his tool swelled in size, all but trapping itself within her, she took a shuddering breath.
“Cum with me ,” she whimpered, “please.”
He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about her words resonated within him. While they’d done it many times before, in all manner of positions and places, this time was different; it was like something on an incorporeal level had clicked between them. Teetering on the brink, lowering his chest to her back, he extended an arm, cradled her chin, and gently guided her up. As she shakily lifted herself, turning her head to face him, he brought his muzzle to hers.
“I love you ,” he faintly, yet firmly sighed.
The admission heralded their release, as they locked lips and climaxed in tandem. His seed rushed through his pulsing shaft, bathing her interior and filling her canal, while her marehood convulsed around him. Though her sex nearly corked by his endowment, a heady cocktail of his essence and her nectar seeped from her cunt, trailing down one thigh and pattering to the blankets. It was a moment of sheer ecstasy, both physical and mental, and it wouldn’t have happened had they not accepted their feelings for one another.
“I hope you know that I won’t stop breeding you until you give me a son,” he huffed, pecking her cheek.
Squeezing his length, relishing the warmth of his spunk, she snickered. “You better not stop breeding me at all, but I’m hoping for a daughter.”
Playfully bucking his hips, causing jizz to squirt around his softening stallionhood, he chuckled. “Then I guess we’ll have to keep trying until we’re both satisfied.”
“So long as it’s with you, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she muttered, kissing him back…
The sensation of something warm and wet enveloping his stallionhood caused Mkuu to stir. His slumber had been deep and restful, though it would take some time for the morning mental haze to leave him. Lifting his head, he groggily peered down his chest, blinked, then rubbed one eye. Laying between his thighs, nonchalantly sucking on his semi-rigid length, the striped unicorn.
Noticing his attention, having likely felt him move, she peeked up at him. Being woken up with a blowjob was certainly a pleasant surprise, especially considering neither of them had showered before drifting off to sleep. After their initial bout of passion, they’d gone at one another no fewer than half a dozen times. It was only after they were well and truly spent, collapsing with their bodies entwined on his bed, did their lovemaking eventually come to an end.
“Someone must be hungry,” he snickered, feeling himself stiffening in her maw.
Grinding her snout against his crotch, before withdrawing with an audible Pop, she beamed up at him. “I am kind of hungry, since it’s not exactly like we stopped for dinner or anything. Oh and I didn’t want to leave my master dirty,” she snickered, resting her cheek against his thigh.
She honestly was a bit peckish, considering the only things she’d eaten in the last twenty-four hours were a pack of crackers, a banana, and two loads of the stud’s spunk. Sadly, even with her ravenous lust, she couldn’t survive on jizz alone. Crawling up his body, pressing her tits against his chest, she kissed his neck.
Mkuu’s hand strayed to her rump, giving one cheek a firm squeeze , before he realized what he was doing. Turning his head to the side, seeing it was nearly eight, he scowled. As much as he would have enjoyed wallowing in bed with his slatternly guest-made-concubine, he had his duties to attend to. Gently pushing her away, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, got to his feet, and stretched.
“Care to join me in the shower, my pet ,” he mused, seeing her hop from the bed.
“Of course,” she tittered, giving him a small bow. “I just hope my master doesn’t take advantage of his poor, innocent slave while she’s attempting to wash herself.”
Walking to his side, brazenly groping his sculpted tush, she glanced to his growing stallionhood. Contrary to what she’d just said, she fully planned on provoking him into a bit of bathroom action. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been plowed in a shower, so the prospect of being pinned against the wall and fucked silly definitely meant any breakfast plans could wait.
With the mare plastered to his side, Mkuu moved into the bathroom. Fortunately, the tub was a rather generous size, large enough comfortably to accommodate two or even three people standing, so he and his voluptuous visitor would effortlessly be able to clean up together. Setting the water to warm, hearing a cabinet open, he knit his brow.
“Are you always this curious?” he asked, spotting her grabbing two towels from a cupboard beside the door.
While it was out of place for a self-appointed slave to flit about, doing as she pleased, he was stricken with her inquisitive and quick-witted nature. He doubted she was any sort of academic, judging from her mannerisms and how she carried herself, yet he had little doubt that she could take care of herself easily enough. Watching her rummage about and inspect the contents of his medicine cabinet, he cocked his head.
“Perhaps if you asked , I could help you find something in particular,” he huffed, both amused and a bit annoyed with her shameless exploration.
“Here we go ,” she thought aloud, snatching up a tube of toothpaste and a box of dental floss.
Wrapping the thin twine around two fingers, she swiftly cleaned between her teeth. If there was one thing that a life of impoverishment had taught her it was to take care of herself. Bits would come and go, but her teeth, limbs, and health were invaluable. Spitting into the toilet, smearing a bit of the toothpaste onto one fingertip, she swabbed her chompers with a digit.
“I…” Mkuu faltered, nonplussed. “If you need a toothbrush, I’m sure I could find you one.”
Seeing her tidying up in such a makeshift fashion raised several questions. Though he was pleased that she valued her hygiene, the unorthodox method she was using led him to believe she had, or currently was , on hard times. Raising a brow, seeing her finish up, he cleared his throat.
“And where, may I ask, did you adopt such an interesting technique?”
“Hm ?” she hummed. Jamming her head under the sink’s faucet, getting a mouthful of water, she rinsed, spat, and turned towards him. “When you’re on the road a lot, you pick up a few tricks. Why ask?”
“So you’re a vagrant?” he inquired.
“I prefer the phrase vagabond - sounds a bit more romantic. Anyways, yeah, I just kinda get by going from place to place, but I have had a pretty stable pad for the last year or so,” she responded. Trotting forward, grinning like an idiot, she elbowed his ribs. “No, not that kind of stable.”
“I have to admit, I’m a bit surprised. Healthy, good looking, presumably resourceful, and remarkably forward - it’s shocking to think that a stallion hasn’t swept you off your feet long before now,” he noted.
“Is that an offer ,” she playfully murmured, lovingly rubbing his hip.
“Perhaps we can discuss it later - for now, sadly, I must prepare for work,” he grunted.
The revelation of her situation was unfortunate - so unfortunate that he genuinely felt a pang of sympathy for her. He may not have held ponies in a particularly high regard, yet everyone should have shelter and the chance for a warm meal. Stepping into the basin, allowing the warm water to flow over his head and back, he stooped over for the soap.
“Hand it here,” the mare prompted, stepping in behind him. “If you’re in a rush, I’ll get started back here.”
As he handed her the bar, opting instead to shampoo his mohawk, she worked a lather over the short fur on his shoulders and back. While she was more than happy to help him get ready for whatever duties he had, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do with herself. The impulsive decision to get striped would raise questions, if she went gallivanting about in the city, though her host may have intentions for her in or about the embassy.
Peering down at herself, seeing the striations she’d been painted with doggedly remaining on her coat, she scrunched her snout. Apparently he hadn’t been bullshitting her about the ink, meaning she’d be stuck looking extra kinky for the next week or so. Shrugging off her concern, as her hands wandered around his waist and to his groin, she grinned.
“Any ideas what a little marked mare could do with herself today?” she purred, shamelessly fondling his immense package.
“Considering I’ll likely be busy for the next eight hours, you can do as you please. Don’t feel as though your new aesthetic should keep you from any plans you have in Canterlot,” he muttered, rinsing the suds from his hair.
“Weirdly enough, I don’t really have any plans. I just came to town to see the sights,” she explained, giving his cock and affectionate squeeze , “but I think I found something much better than anything in any boring old shop. Actually, this place wouldn’t happen to have a library, would it?”
Looking over his shoulder, steadily turning to face her, he placed his hands on his hips. “We do have a study that’s filled with Zebrican literature, why do you ask?”
“Mind if I hang out there today? I promise I won’t bother anyone,” she chirped, grabbing his hands.
As silly as it may have sounded, she’d always had a fondness for reading. Public libraries were one of the few free entertainment options for anyone, so she fairly regularly haunted the places. The opportunity to read up on zebra culture was simply too good to pass up, so she’d gleefully jump at the chance to do a bit of studying.
“I suppose it couldn’t hurt anything. Before I head to my office, I’ll show you to the study and get you a bit of breakfast, then I can meet with you on my lunch break later,” he intoned, grinning down at her.
He was hardly one to stop a pony from learning about his people, so her enthusiasm scored him several strong points in his favor. Sadly, as he’d been quick to learn in Canterlot, a great many Equestrians viewed his kind as an exotic novelty, distant cousins with strange beliefs, but this particular mare seemed to have a genuine interest in his people - that and she was damn easy on the eyes. Spinning around, grinning cheekily to herself, she invitingly wiggled her rear.
“You gonna do me next,” she snickered, reaching back and prizing her buns apart.
Rolling his eyes, Mkuu gently stood her up and turned her towards himself. She was certainly a tenacious and insatiable mare, much more than the other’s he’d bedded, but that was by no means a negative. If she wanted a quickie, before they parted ways for most of the day, he certainly wouldn’t deny either of them the treat.
Leaning forward grabbing her by the hips, he effortlessly hauled her comparably small form into the air. Giggling like a school filly, as she was lifted off her feet, she extended her legs towards him. Fucking her doggy style in the shower would have been fun, but he much preferred seeing his mate’s face when he emptied his balls into their deep, fruitful wombs. The moment he brought her closer, her legs snapped closed around his waist.
“If you keep this up, I may just need to keep you,” he breathed, bringing her drooling marehood towards his erect cock.
Being lowered onto him, slowly skewered by his magnificent stallionhood, Leech rested her arms atop his shoulders. “Wouldn’t hear - Mmmph - me complaining…”
The stud stepped forward, bracing her back against the wall, as he started to move. The sensation of him withdrawing was almost heartbreaking, leaving her feeling empty in more ways than one, but the moment was fleeting. In the blink of an eye, he rammed his hips forward, burying himself within her succulent confines. Holding him tightly, she angled her head upward, closed her eyes, and kissed him.
There was something magical about being held while fucked, and she absolutely loved it. More often than not, if left to her own devices, she’d retain some control over her partners in the bedroom, although being with someone so much bigger and stronger than herself practically demanded she take advantage of the situation. Clenching her depths around him, affectionately clamping down on his shaft, she pressed her tongue past his lips.
Though he’d bedded mares of various sizes, Mkuu preferred his girls on the smaller side. There wasn’t anything wrong with making love to a larger woman, and he’d even appreciated the encounters he’d had of the kind, but fucking someone smaller than himself had a certain thrill . Besides the sex itself, the power that came with knowing he could utterly dominate a lover was downright intoxicating.
With one hand supporting her ass, and the other on the small of her back, he steadily rutted the unicorn. Having her pinned served a dual purpose, giving him exactly what he wanted. Not only could he buck her against the wall, subjecting her to the full force of his thrusts, but he could also use her body weight to make the experience a bit more intense . Lifting her up, as he rocked his hips back, he savagely bucked into her.
“Right there ,” she groaned, sinking her nails into his hide.
Getting his rhythm down, she flexed her legs in tune with his bucking hips. Each plunge was catastrophic, battering her cervix and sending bolts of pleasure through her. It was remarkably intense, but that’s just how she liked it. The tinge of discomfort mingled with her bliss, elevating the experience to an entirely new level.
Beside the sensation of his heavenly cock ravaging her cunt, he was a feast for the senses. The taste of his sweat and cum lingered on her tongue, his scent clung to her palate, and his deep, sonorous groans sent tingles running down her spine. There would have been nothing she could do against him, had he tried to force himself on her, and that thought drove her positively wild .
Her whorish moans and whimpers mingled with his deep grunts and heavy breaths, while the steady stream of water flowed over their bodies. Moving in harmony, each struggling to satisfy the other, they moved in concert. On and on the pair went, racing to the finish line, knowing they had perilously little time to enjoy themselves.
The early morning and unforeseen sex left Mkuu in an unfortunate position, hindering his normally impressive endurance, though that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Seeing as how he’d be expected at his post in less than half an hour, he didn’t mind wrapping things up pretty quickly. There’d be time to spend a protracted session with her later, once he was finished with his shift, so he was willing to make their session relatively short.
Giving into his urges, he jackhammered into her. The mare trembled in his grasp, quivering uncontrollably, as his length battered her depths. His shaft throbbed, the telltale signs of release blossomed within him, and his swaying nuts snuggled against his groin, while he teetered on the brink. Pushing himself to the very limit, he lowered his head and fiercely bit her neck.
It hadn’t taken long for Leech to realize she was going to outlast her host, which was precisely why she’d decided to hold herself back. Had she wanted to, she could have cum at least once already, but would have defeated the point. Feeling a stallion unload in her, filling her with their hot, thick essence, would be more than enough to push her past the breaking point. Sadly for her, she hadn’t expected him to bite her while giving her a massive creampie.
The sensory overload of being so roughly bitten while being pumped full of seed was indescribable. Pain and unimaginable pleasure blended, taxing her body and sending her soaring over the edge. Her primal scream reverberated throughout the tiled chamber, ringing in her ears, as she struggled to remain conscious. Gushing marish fluids around his pulsating cock, feeling the warmth of his seed permeate through her, she held on for dear life.
Almost immediately realizing he may have pushed her too far, Mkuu retracted her head. By some small grace, she hadn’t fainted, but she wasn’t looking well at all. Her eyes were blurry and unfocused, her arms hung limply at her sides, and her legs barely had the strength to remain around his waist - in short, he’d come damn close to fucking her into a coma. Scrunching his nose, cursing the impulsive move, he carefully unsheathed her from his softening length.
If he hadn’t had work, the situation wouldn’t have been a problem whatsoever, but that wasn’t the case. He was expected in his office very shortly, leaving him in a tricky situation. His guest would likely require at least some time to recover, not to mention she hadn’t finished showering, was leaking cum like a faucet, and she would need time to change - time which he couldn’t afford. Cautiously setting her down, ensuring she could stand, he squatted down to her eye level.
“My apologies, are you alright?” he asked.
Shaking her cum-addled head, she leaned heavily against the wall. “If you gotta go, go ahead. I’m sure I could find the library on my own.”
The slight slur in her voice did little to reassure Mkuu, though he was surprised that she was as coherent as she was. “Do you even know where the library -”
“Second floor, east wing, fourth and fifth doors on the right - if you use the southern stairwell,” she perfectly recited, drunkenly smiling up at him. His stunned expression caused her grin to broaden, stroking her ego better than most forms of flattery. “Good memory.”
“I...I see…” he murmured, taken aback by how keen her memory was. She’d only toured the building once, and in relative haste, so he was truly amazed that she’d recalled precisely where the study was. “In that case, I’ll trust you to go there once you’ve finished up and gotten dressed. Feel free to take your time, but I’d prefer you not go snooping about.”
Even if the mischievous mare did contradict his orders, it would be next to impossible for her to do any harm. Small tour groups periodically moved through the building, and there were plenty of staff on hand, so he doubted she could get into any real trouble throughout the day - still, the request would be a small measure of trust on his behalf. Straightening up and stepping out of the tub, after a quick rinse, he began toweling off.
“You don’t have to worry about me, I won’t get into anything,” she giggled, caressing her cum-swollen belly.
Gazing at her slightly distended abdomen, imagining what she’d look like if she was heavy with foal, Mkuu felt his stallionhood twitch. “I’ll have one of the kitchen staff bring some breakfast to the library within the hour; there’s your incentive for being where you’re supposed to be.”
Leech snapped him a small salute, seeing him trot into the bedroom and out of view. “I’ll be there,” she called.
Seeing him disappear, more than likely getting dressed for the day, she unsteadily started washing herself. Despite having blown no fewer than half a dozen loads the night before, he’d really filled her up. Rubbing her gut, feeling the weight of his spunk sloshing around within herself, she clenched her snatch. Most of the jizz would make its way out of her eventually, but she wanted to let it marinate within herself for as long as she could.
Once she’d finished her protracted shower, having taken time to relax and compose herself, she dried off, tossed the towels into the nearby hamper, and strutted back into the room. With her clothes having seen two days’ use, and the ornate concubine outfit having been effectively borrowed from a display case, she was left to use the only other outfit she’d packed. Donning a relatively short skirt and a crop top, without any underwear whatsoever, she gave herself a once-over in the vanity.
Even clothed, the stripes adorning her frame were very visible. Besides the bands Mkuu had started with, his palm print rested squarely over her navel, a sun-like design had been drawn over her right breast, and a few small lines marked her cheeks and neck. She had no way of knowing what, if anything the staff at the embassy would say about her designs , but there was little she could do about it.
She could have headed off to the library, but her compulsions got the best of her. Making the bed, once she’d changed the sheets, and tidying up, she left the chamber as pristine as when she’d found it. Whether she was in her own room of a stranger’s, she couldn’t bring herself to leave a mess unattended. Only after she’d cleaned up the place did she see herself out and head towards the study.
True to his word, once reaching his office, Mkuu ordered a light breakfast for his visitor. Thankfully, his duties for the day weren’t too taxing, although they were tedious to a fault. Writing correspondence with various officials, orchestrating ambassadorial events, and replying to letters from curious ponies kept him busy for nearly the entire day, robbing him of the chance to spend any time with his guest.
He’d hoped to visit her on his lunch break, although the surprise visit from a group of local students ate up several hours from the middle of his day. It wasn’t until he’d heard his stomach grumbling did he notice how late it had gotten. Having foregone his midday meal, with all of his duties wrapped up, he decided to knock off a bit early. While he hadn’t heard any complaints from any of his coworkers, he couldn’t help but wonder what the trampy mare had been up to.
“My apologies,” he announced, stepping into the cozy little library, “I’d intended to see you at lunch, but I…”
Whatever he’d been about to say was lost, as he spotted the unicorn. Turned slightly away from the door, with one leg hitched over the arm of her recliner, she casually rubbed her snatch while reading a book. So far as he knew, there wasn’t any pornographic material in the study, so the sight of her shamelessly getting off was a bit puzzling.
Closing the door behind himself, surprised that she hadn’t been caught rubbing one out, he crossed his arms. “Having fun, are we?”
“I had no idea that warlords would collect the wives of their fallen enemies,” she reverently remarked, unabashedly kneading her clit.
The thought of being claimed by some tribal chieftain, dragged off and ruthlessly bred into submission, was painfully arousing. Apparently, according to the text, the practice had been abandoned several generations ago, as their society had become more unified, but some part of her wished they hadn’t. To be viewed as a prize, knocked-up and paraded about while carrying her former enemy’s foal, really got her fires burning.
“You find the thought provocative?” Mkuu asked. The question was a bit rhetorical, given the fact that she was clearly masturbating to it, yet he wanted to hear just what she found appealing about the notion.
“Honestly,” she sighed, smoothly slipping two fingers into herself, “I’d love for something like that to happen to me. It may be a bit old fashioned, but something about being conquered by a dominant male really, really gets me going.” Setting the book beside herself, moving her then freed hand to one breast, her self-gratification grew slightly more heated. “I mean, it’s natural selection. Mares should be begging to be part of something greater than themselves.”
“If I may be so bold, I wholeheartedly agree with you,” Mkuu remarked, carefully masking his growing arousal. “Mares should be honored to take part in something so wondrous.”
“Mmmhmm ,” she groaned, gnawing her lip.
If what she’d been reading was correct, not only could zebras and ponies reproduce, but their offspring gained boons from both species. Though they couldn’t use magic, nor fly, the inclusion of pegasus, unicorn, or earth pony genes would imbue a foal with heightened agility, keener senses, or increased physical strength respectively. She’d always considered motherhood as an ultimate goal, if and when she decided to settle down, but the idea of producing a superior offspring made the concept exceptionally alluring.
Clenching around her digits, fantasizing about being whisked away by some striped Prince, she closed her eyes. She felt certain that she’d make an excellent mother, having a perfect set of hips to bear children, and she frequently imagined how wonderful she’d look while exceptionally gravid. A large belly, big, leaking tits, and a full figure would undoubtedly compliment her well, not to mention earning her the esteemed MILF status, and she knew she would definitely have young, virile stallions chasing after her. All in all, if and when the time ultimately came, she’d be the sort of woman mothers warned their sons about.
“Ahem,” Mkuu cleared his throat, dragging his eyes off her moistened loins. “Perhaps you’d like to accompany me to dinner this evening?”
“You sure you wouldn’t rather…” she purred, extending a leg and gently rubbing his thigh with her toes.
“Perhaps once we get back, if you are properly behaved,” he chuckled, stepping out of her reach.
While he would have been content to pin her down and pump a foal into her, it was neither the time nor the place for such a thing. The embassy was still relatively busy, there was at least one tour being conducted in the building, and he was honestly a bit shocked that anyone hadn’t intruded on the wanton mare’s shameless masturbation. Eager to hear what other thoughts she had on Zebrican breeding rituals, while over a nice meal, he felt sure that they’d ultimately rut like wild animals later that evening.
With an impish smirk, Leech hopped to her feet, withdrew her moistened hand, and gave him a curt bow. “As you wish, my lord .”
Judging from the swell under his loincloth, as well as how hard he’d been watching her rubbing herself, he was definitely fighting the temptation she’d laid on the table. It was relatively rare for a stallion to turn down such an invitation, although it offered an even rarer opportunity. She was more than game to go out in public with him, especially if it meant playing a bit of chicken with the sexy bastard.
“Is there anything in particular you’d like me to wear, or would this getup work?” she hummed. Tugging at her top, exposing the dark cleavage of her breasts, she flashed her teeth up at him.
“As a matter of fact, yes, there is something I’d like you to wear,” he countered, mirroring her arrogance. “The only problem is, I’ll have to buy it for you.”
“Promoting yourself to sugar daddy already?” she teased, plastering herself against his chest. “That’s ok, I’m sure I’ll be able to make it up to you later.”
Wrapping one arm around her shoulder, turning towards the door, he gently guided her to the exit. “Before we go out for a meal, I’ll take you to a local shop I’m familiar with. Come.”
“Only if you’re super rough,” she tittered, brazenly fondling the growing bulge at his groin.
Mkuu would have been content bringing her out directly, but her impetuous behavior practically demanded that he indulge her budding lust for zebra superiority. Seeing as how she had sworn herself to him for the week, he had the perfect accessory in mind for her. Heading her back to his chamber, with the mare at his side, he slipped one hand to her rump.
The relatively short walk was done in silence, although their actions spoke more than words ever could. Leech boldly slid her hand under his loincloth, caressing his hardening length, while his fingers sank into one cheek of her rump; the few staff they passed didn’t notice, or were too polite to say anything, as they made their way. After a few brief minutes, they reached their destination.
“If you’d be so kind, go stand before the vanity,” he instructed, strolling to his dresser. “And close your eyes, if you would.”
Nodding vigorously, Leech scampered to her place and shut her eyes. She had no way to know what he was planning, but that was part of the fun. Surprises, especially those of the lewd variety, had always been a weakness of hers, and she was eager to see what he had in store for her - at least, in the metaphorical sense. With one ear swiveled in his direction, she heard him rustling about.
“Should I get naked or…?” she let the question hang, secretly hoping for some early afternoon action.
“Clothed is fine, considering we’ll be heading out shortly,” he smoothly replied, finding what he was looking for.
Trotting up behind her, securing a leather band around her neck, he affixed a fine chain to her collar. While such a practice hadn’t been used in nearly a century, he’d found that some mares needed the practical reminder of their place - as such, he kept a choker around for just such occasions. Whether or not she’d be brave enough to wear it outside of his room was left to be seen, although he assumed she was shameless enough to pull it off.
“Is that what I think it is?” she softly inquired, absolutely positive that the question was unneeded.
Taking a tiny step back, bumping her tush against his crotch, she slowly leaned forward. The resistance around her neck left little room for doubt; she’d been collared and leashed, cementing her suspicions. Blindly pressing her hands against the vanity’s top, pressing her ass against his groin, she flicked her tail and flipped her skirt.
“Master ,” she cooed, “you don’t think I - Gah!!”
“Speak when spoken to, lest you forget,” he softly tutted, cutting off her whorish words with a well-timed tug on the chain. “Whatever will I do with such an unruly harlot?”
Undoing his loincloth, letting it fall to the floor, he bucked his hips. As his hardening stallionhood ground against her snatch, stroking her clit, she shivered. She really was an amusing creature, if undisciplined, but that suited his preferences just fine. Half the fun of finding such an accommodating pony was breaking them, bending them to his will, and he had every intention of shaping her into the perfect example of a concubine.
“Well?” he pressed, rocking back and bringing the tip of his length to her entrance.
Splaying her legs, bracing herself, she gave the only reasonable answer she could think of. “Breed me .”
Seeing as how he’d asked , she couldn’t help but respond truthfully. Peeking out, seeing herself in the mirror, she went still. The sight of him behind her, with one hand holding the lead, and the other on her hip, caused her marehood to seize upon itself. There she was, covered in stripes, about to get plowed by a towering stud of a zebra, and she couldn’t be happier. The only unfortunate thing was that she didn’t have a camera handy to memorialize the event.
“A very tempting offer, one which I may take you up on, but it depends on how well you conduct yourself this evening,” he growled, prodding her entrance. “Are you worthy of carrying my foal?”
Being relatively young for a dignitary, he’d spent a good portion of his life honing his social and professional skills. There was a real chance that he’d sown his seed within a handful of mares, seeing as how he rarely used any sort of protection, but actively knocking up a licentious pony had yet to happen.
“Gods yes ,” she groaned, bucking back against him.
The taunting was nearly too much to bear - then again, that’s likely why he’d put the collar on her in the first place. Balancing on one hand, dragging her top down, she freed her bosoms. If he was going to play with her, getting her worked up in such a sinful way, she saw no harm in adding a bit of fuel to the ever-growing fire.
Lightly thrusting, yet not hard enough to actually penetrate her, he grinned. “Is that what you truly want?”
“Any mare, pony or not, would be blessed to carry your child, but that would be a shame,” she groaned.
Mkuu stopped dead, cocking a brow. “Oh?”
“Yes. A stallion like you deserves a harem, an entire drove of broodmares at his beck and call,” she whimpered.
“Good ,” he softly stated, immeasurably pleased with her response.
Slowly, steadily, he buried his stallionhood into her snug confines. There was no need to rush things, allowing him to savor the experience, although he did notice something interesting; despite having fucked her numerous times over the last twenty-four hours, she was just as tight as ever. Tightening the lead, as his medial ring bludgeoned its way into her, he slowed to a halt.
“If you want it so badly, fuck yourself on it,” intoned, putting more tension on the chain.
Though breathing was becoming increasingly difficult, Leech caved to her urges. The collar was tight enough as it was, making swallowing slightly uncomfortable, so the additional strain of having him haul on the leash exacerbated the issue. In a shrewd move, thrusting back and rutting herself on his girthy cock, she both allowed herself to breath and sate her lust.
Holding onto the sides of the vanity, she used her arms to lend a bit more force to her efforts. Forward and back, in and out - she was left doing all of the work. She couldn’t rightly say why he wasn’t budging, but she gradually grew frustrated with the situation. Nearly pouting, shooting him her best puppy-dog eyes, she silently hoped he’d tire of the game and take an active part.
“I’m still not entirely convinced,” he mused, releasing her waist. “Perhaps you should try harder …”
With that final word, he reared back and roughly slapped her ass. Truth be told, he hadn’t been sure how she’d react to the sudden smack, but her reaction was absolutely priceless . The mare tensed, trembling from hoof to head, and her knees buckled. A delicate trickle of feminine juices dribbled out of her convulsing sex, leaking down her legs and to the rug below.
Her masochism was unmistakable, tickling his sadistic tendencies and pushing him to the breaking point. Twisting the chain around his hand, shortening the length between them, he reached forward and grabbed her horn. If she wanted it rough, he’d gleefully give her exactly what she wanted; he just hoped she wouldn’t regret the decision.
Stepping over her feet, effectively locking her legs in place, he fucked her like a beast possessed. There was no gradual escalation, no warmup whatsoever, he simply pounded her with all the force and speed that he could muster. Her attempts to satisfy herself waned entirely, as he screwed her into submission.
“There’s a good mare ,” he snarled, wrenching her head back.
Leech’s orgasmic braying cut through the air, undoubtedly being heard by anyone and everyone in the near vicinity, but she couldn’t care less. She’d figured he was strong, but she had never dreamt he was capable of delivering such a savage rutting. Her nails scraped against the piece of furniture, saliva crept down her chin, and her eyes rolled back, as her initial climax rebounded into a second.
This is where she belonged , under some virile stud. The deep-dicking was so hard and so intense that her cervix almost immediately gave way, yielding to the striped stallion’s might. As astounding as his ministrations were, leaving her mind in a debaucherous haze, she couldn’t have fathomed the full effect of his domineering treatment.
The back of her womb was continually punched, while the battering ram-like head of his cock repositioned her interior. Though she couldn’t see it, the imprint of his cock appeared within her abdomen with each plunge, before briefly disappearing once again. She’d fooled around with some bigger and heavily endowed creatures before, but being ruined by such an imposing and exotic equine was definitely a first in her book.
Gritting his teeth, Mkuu relished the moment. It wasn’t every day that he was able to exert full control over someone, let alone a pony, so the revelation that she was submissive and a masochist heightened his growing fondness for her. If properly trained, he knew he could mold her into the perfect mare - that was, so long as she would successfully bend to his will. Tightening her leash, hearing her gasp and choke, his muzzle split in a cruel smirk.
Her eyes watered, her canal spasmed around his pistoning length, and she pawed at her collar - still, he didn’t relent. He wouldn’t push her too far, but he needed to know where her boundaries lie. If she was willing to subject herself to such torment, getting off to the abuse, so much the better. Seeing her teeth clench, as she suffered through yet another spontaneous orgasm, he continued undeterred.
While Leech had been able to breath, if only slightly, she suddenly found herself strangled by the band of leather around her throat. She’d done all sorts of kinky stuff before, including stuffing her gullet with cock, but this was the first time anyone had actually choked her before. Fear blended with her arousal, sending her thoughts into a tumultuous frenzy.
One climax bled into another, creating a rapturous, terrifying feedback loop. She never realized she could cum so hard and so fast, with her refractory period becoming nonexistent, yet she did so all the same. As her vision blurred, tunneling in, she felt him flaring within her deepest depths. Regardless of how severe his treatment was, she would have begged him to unload within her; sadly, that was impossible.
Just as the world started going dark, on the brink of blacking out, the most divine heat overtook her. Pouring into her womb, where it rightly belonged, his seed was like a heavenly gift. Her mouth hung open in a silent scream, as she was rocked by an utterly cataclysmic orgasm. Her legs gave out, and her arms slumped limply to her sides, while a deluge of spunk erupted within her.
Though Mkuu released her leash, allowing the mare to fill her lungs, not a sound escaped her. His release was easily the best he’d had with the girl, with the power of controlling her rivaling the sexual pleasure itself, but he wasn’t done yet. Stepping back, grabbing the base of his still gushing length, he unsheathed himself and painted her back. His thick, heady jizz seeped into her fur, mingling with the ink he’d bestowed upon her, and painted her clothing, as a warm, intoxicating euphoria settled over him.
“If you still wish to go out this evening, here’s what you’re going to do,” he began, stepping to her side. Grabbing her horn, angling her head towards his dresser, he nodded. “In the top drawer, there’s a plug. You will cork yourself and allow my gift to stay within your confines until I say otherwise - that is, unless you wish to disappoint me…”
He doubted she’d actually be able to accomplish the order, yet that wasn’t the point - the point was to see how devoted she really was. Even if she tried and failed, that would show commendable resolve on her behalf. Easing his grip on her horn, allowing her head to rest on the vanity’s surface, he quietly watched and waited.
Summoning a strength she didn’t know she had, Leech wearily pushed herself up. She wanted - no, needed to obey him. No other stallion had left her in such a pathetic state, so she couldn’t bring herself to disappoint him. Though the distance was only a dozen paces or so, every step took herculean effort. Stumbling the final few steps, only barely catching herself on the piece of furniture, she feebly reached for the drawer’s handle.
Moving at all was a trial, as was clenching her abused marehood, so searching for the elusive item only complicated the situation. Rummaging around, praying she’d find the infernal toy, her fingers finally graced something cold and hard. As she shakily retracted her hand, seeing a decently girthy crystalline plug, she stabilized herself with one hand, falteringly squatted down, and corked her leaking cunt.
“T...there ,” she croaked, collapsing to her knees.
Lack of formalities aside, Mkuu was exceptionally impressed with her. There likely weren’t many mares who could force themselves to do something so demeaning, but her depraved determination appeared indomitable. Stepping over, noting that she would need to change before they left the room, he knelt by her side.
“Do you - Cough - always cum this much?” she wheezed, cradling her bloated tummy.
Containing his essence from earlier that day, and likely some from the night before, her stomach hung over her skirt. For anyone looking at her, she could have easily passed for being in the early stages of a pregnancy. While not obscenely large, her belly was just pronounced enough to be easily noticeable, filling her with an odd mixture of pride and excitement.
“We typically do, yes, but that’s what the plug is for,” he sighed, casually reaching out and patting the crystalline stopper. “Go and get yourself cleaned up, I’ll see if I can borrow some clean clothing from one of my coworkers.”
“I could just wear that outfit from last night,” she blurted, glancing over at the skimpy attire on the nightstand. “If - um - if that’s alright…”
Cocking his head, her suggestion caught him off guard. “You would bare yourself to anyone and everyone in Canterlot?”
“O...only if I wear the collar and leash,” she added, slipping a finger under the choker. “If anyone stops us, it would be easy enough to explain. If you didn’t want to lie, telling someone that it was for it was an artistic exhibition, we could just be honest - after all, I am yours for the week.”
As appealing as the notion was, it may present several issues he’d rather not deal with. Ambassador or not, there were limits to what he could and couldn’t get away with while outside of his homeland. There were possible options to pursue, should she continue wanting to debase herself, although they may require some time and preparation to pull off. While he steadily got to his feet, intent to fetch something clean for her to put on, the mare softly rubbed against his shin.
“Do you require…” he trailed off, watching her shuffle over, grab his semi-rigid cock, and lean towards his groin.
Even if she didn’t get to wear the fancy getup out, there was one thing Leech had to do before they did anything. Dipping her head, bringing her mouth to the tip of his cock, she slipped his stallionhood into her muzzle. The heady cocktail of her nectar and his cum washed over her palate, as she mopped his length with her lips and tongue.
Though her marehood was plugged, her hand drifted to her crotch. Just because she was cleaning him off, milking the final drops of spunk from his shaft, didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy herself while serving him. Rubbing her clit with one hand, while pinching and twisting one teat with the other, she shameless got herself off.
Thrusting into her hand, while rhythmically squeezing her sex around the toy, her eyelids fluttered. Though she would have killed to massage her g-spot, being filled with his cum was almost as satisfying. Even if he insisted she sleep with the plug in, giving his essence an entire night to seep into her, she’d be sure to wake him up with another blowjob or, if she was feeling extra bold, perhaps a sixty-nine.
The weight and residual warmth of what felt like a gallon of foal-batter resting in her womb would have been enough to rub one out, so sucking seed and she-cum off a stallion’s dick was just icing on the cake. Peeking up at him, noting the approving look he bore, she relaxed her throat and forced him into her gullet. If she was going to be his sex slave, by all the stars in the sky, she’d be the best damn sex slave he’d ever had.
Locking eyes with her, Mkuu savored the moment. In the past, he’d taken the time to further demean mates by slapping their faces with his sullied tool, but the unicorn had been impulsive or lecherous enough to degrade herself with the job. Between her seemingly insatiable appetite and utter lack of dignity, he was curious about what lengths she’d go to to please him.
Her penchant for abuse and durability were extraordinary, well and truly beyond what any normal mare could or would endure, which got his wheels spinning. He would have been pleased enough to sate himself with her in any way imaginable, but the compulsion to test her grew increasingly strong. If she had a breaking point, like any mortal had, he would find it - it was just a matter of when he found her weakness.
As she slowly withdrew, pressing her nose to his balls to huff his musk, he stepped away. Given her unfathomable resolve and near-limitless libido, perhaps something unorthodox would be worth exploring. Bending over, silently offering his hand, he helped her stand.
“I’ll be back momentarily. Please,” he murmured, gesturing to the bathroom, “clean yourself up for me.”
“Yes sir,” she chirped, regaining her chipper enthusiasm with startling speed. “And don’t worry about underwear,” she snickered, winking up at him, “I’m more than comfortable going commando.”
Seeing him stroll towards the exit, only giving her a noncommittal grunt, she haphazardly traipsed into the restroom. With the prospect of a decent meal on her mind, as well as potentially more lewd hijinks later that night, her mood couldn’t be better. As she set the shower to warm, peeling out of her skirt and top, her thoughts began to wander.
It hadn’t even been an entire day, and yet she and the emissary had been fucking like they were a pair of newlyweds. She’d had several wild flings before, but she struggled to remember a time when she’d been that active with someone over such a short period of time. She wasn’t about to complain about his stamina, strength, and overall sex drive, but the continual ruttings had begun taking a toll.
Her hips were sore, her marehood ached, and her throat was tender from the choking and misuse. She knew she’d been fine, she’d been with creatures who had bred her harder than the zebra, but his overall endurance and ravenous lust was incredible. Of all the years she’d spent bedding and conquering creatures throughout the land, she’d never met one who had a sexual appetite to match her, but Mkuu may have changed that.
Stepping into the basin, letting the warm water wash away most of the jizz, sweat, and marish juices about her person, she knit her brow. Though she’d only known him for an extremely brief time, she’d gleaned several interesting facts about her host. He was intelligent, suave, and apparently had a penchant for domination. While it was obvious that he was a bit of a womanizer, she actually considered that a bonus.
Cultural differences aside, he sat as a paragon of masculinity and strength - both facts that he was keenly aware of. Most guys like him would have settled down with a woman, having gotten their pick from among a whole host of females, yet the ambassador was strangely single. Making a mental note, hoping to figure out why he wasn’t in a relationship, she started shampooing herself.
Working the lather into her fur, cleaning herself from top to bottom, her hands eventually drifted to her plugged sex. As her fingers ran around the rim of the crystalline toy, delicately clenching around its neck, she sighed. If he wasn’t careful, and kept filling her with his seed, there was a chance he might actually knock her up - then again, that may have been what he was hoping to do.
There were some stallions and dickmares out in the world who reveled in sowing their wild oats, siring bastard foals without care, but Mkuu didn’t seem like the sort. He held an esteemed office, so putting his profession on the line for a scandal would have been extremely foolhardy. Pressing on the base of the plug, toying with the notion to remove it and drain herself, she slowly moved her hand away.
She had several more days to pick him apart, to see just how he worked, and she had every intention of figuring out what made him tick. She’d already deduced several of his kinks, his disposition of ponies, and the ways he preferred his women behave, but she felt sure there was much, much more to reveal about her host. Staring down at her distended belly, holding it in both hands, she grinned to herself.
If he did end up putting a foal or two in her, it wouldn’t necessarily be the end of the world. Any offspring they produced would likely have hybrid vigor, be exceedingly cute, and have a combination of both their strengths. She couldn’t say if he’d actually wed her, should she bear a children for him, but having a dignitary as a mate would have a number of very appealing benefits. He could bring home the bits, while she took care of the house and kids - honestly, it would be a win/win.
As the water rinsed the later from her coat, removing what little was left of their very passionate bout of lovemaking, she stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel, and dried herself off. It was still relatively early in the afternoon, with several hours until nightfall, which meant she’d have all evening to woo her striped suitor. Regardless of whether or not she could actually keep him, she was positive that the remainder of her stay at the consulate would be amazing...
