Practically prancing through the spacious hallways of the keep, giving the occasional wave or smile to the various guards or castle staff he passed, Thorax ignored the lustful glances from the ponies he passed. Being a colorful, reformed changeling was eye-catching enough, though that wasn’t what drew most of the attention. Aside from being his lord’s personal servant, catering to the King’s wishes, his attire was, shall we say, somewhat untraditional.
Nearly every creature under his lord’s employ was adorned accordingly, with the centurions adorned in armor, the chambermaids in dresses, and the clerical staff wearing suits, yet his unique position required a singular outfit. His ensemble consisted of a painfully short micro-skirt, a fishnet top, and a thong. Years prior, before he’d been tamed by his sire, he would never have had the heart to slip into women’s clothing, let alone parade about in such scandalous garb, but that felt like a lifetime ago.
After Sombra had wrested control from the Princesses, conquering the Crystal Empire and Equestria, he’d feared for the worst. Everyone had heard tales about the umbral King, of how he enslaved and subjugated his subjects, and he’d been uncertain of how best to approach the new ruler. Having kept his hive out of the conflict, hoping to spare his people, he’d ultimately decided to meet with the newly crowned sovereign of the pony people - a move which had brought with it several changes.
Not only had Sombra been beyond cordial, offering him a lavish meal and a private chat about stately matters, but he’d found himself being casually flirted with by the King! While it would have been bad enough to stave off advances from the tall, handsome stallion, since the unicorn was just his type, things eventually took a curious and wholly unexpected turn; in exchange for a very lucrative peace treaty, one which would ensure the safety of his kind, he’d be required to serve as a personal attendant to the sovereign. The offer was too good to refuse, not for the least of which reasons being his attraction to the stud, so he’d enthusiastically agreed and struck an accord.
Months later, his life had changed in nearly every conceivable way. He’d moved to the Canterlot castle, after informing his subjects of the development, and taken to his duties with gusto. He’d hoped that he’d spend plenty of time around Sombra, finding himself captivated by the debonair stallion, yet he could never have fathomed the feeling was mutual. In a matter of days, he’d status had shifted from a confidant to something all the more salacious. Unable to withstand the King’s advances, he’d gleefully accepted his role as a lover.
To put it bluntly, Sombra was everything he’d ever looked for in a stallion. Towering, supremely well built, and with a sonorous voice that sent thrilled shivers up his spine, the beefy stud was a paragon of masculine beauty, but that wasn’t the best part - the best part was that his ruler-turned-mate indulged his servile inclinations like none ever had. Though he’d always been a bit reserved with his actions and predilections, presenting himself like a respectable leader to his hive, his position let him to embrace who and what he was deep down inside.
In his heart of hearts, he’d always pined for a big, strong, domineering mate, and that’s exactly what the King - his King had given him. He was not only allowed to act as girly as he wanted, flitting about in revealing outfits while doting on his paramour, but he was encouraged to do so. The experience was cathartic to a fault, and he’d taken to it like a fish to water - sure, he still cared for his people, taking care to regularly visit with them, yet he found it increasingly difficult to leave his stud’s side.
The mere thought of Sombra was enough to make him tingle all over, but he couldn’t let that stop him from his official duties. Having already tidied their chamber, after he’d showered, thoroughly cleaned himself, and gotten dressed, he made his way to join his paramour. It was only when he approached the imposing double doors that he slowed.
Momentarily pausing by one of the many windows lining the corridor, he inspected himself. Though he was effectively the same as he’d ever been, his mate’s preferences had dictated a few small changes; for starters, he willed himself to be slightly shorter than usual - secondly, and more dramatically, he’d made himself more curvaceous than usual. Typically tall with a relatively lean build, his inherent, metamorphic abilities allowed him to alter his appearance with little more than a thought - heck, he’d maintained his effeminate aesthetic for so long that it was his new normal. With everything in place, straightening his skirt, he smiled to himself, turned, and proceeded into the throne room.
The chamber was absolutely cavernous, designed to hold dozens of guests and staff, although only a lone figure occupied its spacious confines. Sat on his throne, reading over a scroll of parchment, the King didn’t bother looking up to see who’d talked in. There were few who were brave or foolish enough to disturb Sombra while he worked, yet he had nothing to fear. Outside of a select handful of praetorians, he was quite possibly the only creature in the castle who could come and go as he pleased - a fact that warmed the bottom of his heart.
He could have spoken up, said something to let his liege know he was there, yet there was an even better way to introduce himself. Wrestling with his mounting excitement, he forced himself to take a relaxed pace; he didn’t mind disturbing his lord, but the last thing he wanted was to come off as desperate for attention. As he approached the throne, feeling his pulse quicken, his eyes wandered over the seated titan.
More than double his height and covered in toned muscle, with a flowing, luxurious black mane, the stallion could easily pass for the statue of some adonic god; bedecked in a pair of leather pants, poet shirt, and his signature cape, with a golden crown resting on his brow, the goliath stud was the personification of a majestic King, yet his appearance was only one facet of his appeal. He’d been shocked to see just how beautiful Sombra was in the flesh, but discovering that the legends of the King’s cruelty were, as far as he could tell, completely fabricated was what had won him over. Both just and magnanimous, the sovereign had treated the creatures of Equestria extraordinarily well, defending them and ushering in a new age of prosperity for the land.
“Am I supposed to act like I don’t see you?” the giant rumbled, shifting scarlet gaze to the approaching changeling.
Thorax stopped dead in his tracks, stunned that the King had heard his light footed approach. “I…I’m sorry, Sir, I thought you may like -”
Sombra held up a hand, silencing the stammering drone in an instant. “I didn’t ask for an apology, my Pet.”
Smiling broadly, coolly rolling and setting the scroll to the side, he turned his attention to his timid visitor. He’d known precious little of Thorax prior to their first meeting, yet he’d found himself immediately smitten. Deliciously bashful and remarkably timid, the colorful shapeshifter had caught his eye like few ever had. Contrary to popular beliefs, he much preferred demure sissies over actual mares.
There was something undeniably alluring about svelte, submissive stallions, and he couldn’t recall ever encountering one who checked both boxes as much as Thorax. Grinning over at the fidgeting femcolt, seeing the subtle bulge in his visitor’s panties, he beckoned with a finger. The morning had been relatively lackluster, pouring over treaties and trade negotiations with Yakyakistan, so a little distraction would be just the ticket to lighten his mood.
“Come now, you clearly didn’t come all this way to look at me,” he chuckled, flashing his fangs.
Feeling an all too familiar ache at his loins, Thorax nodded and stepped closer. “I j…just - um - thought I’d come and check on you…”
The admission was a half truth, concealing one of his intentions. Shortly after their relationship traversed the gap from professional to romantic, he’d been fitted for a very particular accoutrement. His stallionhood had never been all that impressive, and it was rarely if ever used, yet his imperious lover had ensured he couldn’t derive pleasure from his prick. Locked in an enchanted chastity cage, only able to achieve release through alternative means, he’d had what little masculinity he had systematically fucked out of him.
He’d initially assumed that his transformative abilities would be a way to escape the confines around his admittedly minuscule package, although that hadn’t been the case. In a stunningly shrewd move, his lover had taken precautions that the cage didn’t just keep him from any form of penile contact. The magical contraption forced him to maintain some form of endowment, shrinking or growing to accommodate his package regardless of its size. Though it could be frustrating at times, left to rely on his mate and some paltry sex-toys for gratification, the denied use of his dick hadn’t bothered him much at all.
Grinding his thighs together, feeling the string of his thong resting against his winking, eager pucker, he walked before the stud and dropped to his knees - not merely as a formality, but as an act of respect. He was beneath his liege in every conceivable way, and he had no shame in showing his fealty. Keeping his head lowered, he clutched his hands over his chest and waited to hear what, if anything, his King had to say about his interruption.
The sight of his obedient pet sent blood coursing to Sombra’s loins. He was by no means upset with the transtression, although he felt no need to express that - at least, not yet. Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he feigned disinterest and cleared his throat. There was almost always fun to be had with someone so meek, especially when they were as devoted to him as his lover.
“Unless you’re here for a clear reason,” he sighed, brushing a lock of hair from his face, “I do have endeavors which require my attention…”
Hearing his words, the changeling stiffened and peeked up at him. The coy, almost wounded look in the drone’s face was delicious, far more arousing than it had any right to be, and his stallionhood twitched because of it. While he did have a profound soft spot for docile, effete partners, being with someone who took the initiative was a must. Sure enough, after a tense moment passed, the colorful shapeshifter inched nearer.
“Sir,” Thorax whispered, lifting and resting one hand on the stud’s knee, “perhaps I could offer you some relief.”
He wasn’t normally one to take the lead, but being with Sombra had steadily been breaking that bad habit. Over the last few months, he’d gotten less and less attention - that was, unless he initiated it - unfortunately, he’d had to incrementally up the ante; where once a simple massage or kiss would lead to very passionate moments, he’d had to become increasingly forward to sate his desires. Delicately prying the stud’s legs apart, revealing an utterly colossal swell within the stallion’s pants, his mouth watered.
Though he was a reformed changeling, no longer needing to feed off the love of others, he still relished feasting off of amorous energy. More akin to a drug, filling him with a sense of euphoric glee, the act fanned the flames of his lust. Affectionately gliding his hands up his lord’s thighs, he caressed the imprint of Sombra’s gargantuan stallionhood lurking beneath the all too thin leather.
He could have groveled, waxing poetic about how much he adored his mate, yet actions spoke louder than words. Bearing a silly little grin, keenly aware of the cage struggling to contain his colthood, he unbuttoned his King’s slacks and pulled open the fly. While he was well aware of where they were, that someone could walk in on such an intimate act, he couldn’t care less if anyone saw him servicing his lord. As far as he was concerned, he was simply fulfilling one of his official duties.
Things may have been different if he was the only outlet for Sombra’s sexual desires, but that wasn’t the case. His lord and lover had long since acquired Spike, Twilight’s adopted progeny, as a concubine, which introduced a competitive element to the mix. If he didn’t tend to his lover, the shapely dragon sissy most assuredly would, and he was not about to let the lithe little lizard hog all of his stud’s affection.
Moving at a snail’s pace, fighting the urge to rip the stud’s slacks off, he gingerly reached into Sombra’s pants. As his digits graced a warm, sublimely girthy length, he swallowed hard. In spite of having bedded the stallion innumerable times, the sensation of his lover’s endowment never failed to get him worked up. Lovingly pulling the immense, semi-rigid shaft free, he lifted his head and gazed longingly at his mate’s divine equipment.
As long as his forearm and too thick to wrap his fingers fully around, Sombra’s cock was perfection given flesh. Even without being fully erect, the behemoth positively dwarfed his meager endowment at full mast! Subconsciously stroking the heavenly length, coaxing it to its full, imposing size, he licked his lips and felt his backdoor hungrily seize upon itself. As the ambrosial scent hit his sinuses, he angled the stallionhood towards his face, leaned in, and wrapped his lips around its blunt crown.
Watching the eager cock-slut wantonly sucking on his tool, Sombra couldn’t help but grin. From the moment he’d set eyes on the changeling, he’d known Thorax was an absolute bottom-bitch - that being said, he’d underestimated how needy the little shapeshifter would be. Unlike Spike, who’d taken months to properly train, the former ruler of the changelings had shown an almost preternatural ability to please him - that being said, there was always room for improvement.
With a contented sigh, immeasurably pleased with the depraved diversion of his obligations, he closed his eyes, extended his arm, and grasped one of the femcolt’s antlers. The lad’s oral skills had shown remarkable progress of late, yet that didn’t mean he couldn’t offer a bit of assistance. Pulling Thorax’s head downward, he flexed his pelvis and drove his length to the back of his mate’s throat.
Thorax stifled a gag, his motions faltering, yet he quickly composed himself. Grabbing the stud’s hips, he drew a lungful of the musk-filled air, relaxed his throat, and forced the hardening shaft down his gullet. The intensity of literally choking on a tool so massive was beyond words, causing his eyes to water, but that didn’t stop him - if anything, it stoked the inferno of his desire. His place was to serve, even if it meant a bit of discomfort, and he took solace in being where he belonged.
Aided by the stud’s efforts, he bobbed his head and swabbed his throat. Only retracting just enough to get the occasional sip of air, his eyes stayed glued on the gorgeous stallion’s face. Almost cruelly beautiful, he’d never thought he’d see, much less bed a more gorgeous creature in his entire life, yet there he was. As his tongue mopped the sensitive underside of Sombra’s shaft, coating his taste buds in the salty, almost earthy flavor of unwashed flesh, his spirits soared.
Though he would have happily played with himself throughout the endeavor, his lord had known better - which was precisely why he’d been chaste. Truth be told, the longer he’d been with Sombra, his own sexual urges subsided; it wasn’t that he didn’t like feeling good, but the source of his pleasure had shifted. With one hand affectionately cradling the King’s weighty nuts, he slipped one hand under his top.
“What’s this?” Sombra quipped, quirking a brow. “Is my little pet enjoying herself?”
Releasing the lad’s antler, he sat back and glared down at the suddenly motionless drone. He wasn’t angry that Thorax had been about to play with his nipples, but a good sub asked for permission to pleasure themself - as such, a bit of education may be in order. Waving for the femcolt to stand, he impassively reclined.
Sure enough, like the well trained slut that he was, the changeling reared back, cleared his gullet, and peered up at him. While there was an argument to be made for having a completely broken partner, like Spike, he’d be lying if he said that teaching his mates wasn’t immeasurably amusing. As the shapeshifter got to his feet, he shook his head.
“What did I tell you about touching yourself?” he murmured.
“That…that I’m only allowed to do what you tell me to do,” the drone responded.
Sombra solemnly nodded. “That’s correct. I certainly hope you haven’t forgotten your other lessons…”
Thorax swiftly shook his head, holding his hands before his deliciously flat chest. “I haven’t, Sir!”
“Then show me…” the stallion intoned.
Spinning in place, Thorax leaned forward, reached back, and flipped his skirt. One of the tenants of his life was to be clean and lubed at all times, ready to service his king at a moment’s notice. Keeping his eyes on the floor, as he pulled his thong to the side, he spread his ass and gave the stud a view of his backside. Taking into account his minor transgression, showing his slickened, winking pucker was the least he could do to make amends.
“Leaking already,” the titan remarked, spying the pre-cum moistening his plaything’s panties. “You claim to have come to check up on me, but I believe my little Princess may have simply wanted some relief for herself…”
The word sent a thrill up Thorax’s heart aflutter. He’d been called pet, mate, mare, and a whole host of other names, but there was something magical about being called Princess. The emasculation of the word, marking him as some lesser female noble, was as degrading as it was arousing. Peeking over his shoulder, seeing the stud’s softening expression, he gnawed his bottom lip.
“Go on then,” the King continued, “be honest.”
The genteel changeling nodded, his cheeks darkening. “Yes, Sir…”
“And there we have it,” Sombra smugly chuckled, nonchalantly stroking his length. “Since you’re finally being honest, perhaps my little Princess would like to have a seat on her throne.”
More of a statement than a question, Thorax had no doubt what the stud had meant. Straightening up, he hitched his thumbs over the waistband of his panties and pulled the article down his thighs. It was all he could do to move at a relaxed pace, prepared to do whatever the stallion commanded, yet his mate remained silent. As he kicked the undergarment aside, moving to face his lover, an indigo aura surrounded him and plucked him from the floor.
“Your back to my chest - yes, there we go, just like that,” Sombra muttered, effortlessly lifting and placing the femcolt atop his lap. “Comfortable?”
The sensation of the stud’s cock against Thorax’s back was tantamount to torture. He’d hoped to be impaled, yet all he had received was more teasing. Wiggling his behind back and forth, with his thighs resting on the King’s legs, he glancing back and into the stallion’s cat-like eyes.
“Sir,” he whispered, summoning his courage, “may I?”
“May you what? Have I not told you to make yourself clear?” the giant countered, his voice losing a trace of its warmth.
Forcing himself to maintain eye contact, feeling his blush deepen, Thorax gave voice to his yearnings. “M…may I ride you?”
The colossus stayed silent for a mere moment, before he dipped his head. “You may…”
Without waiting another instant, moving perhaps a bit too hastily, Thorax tensed his legs, pressed his hands against his lover’s knees, and raised his waist. He’d half expected more taunting, something that happened more often than he cared to admit, so he wasn’t about to let his King change his mind. Guided by feel alone, dragging the cleft of his backside up the meaty pillar, he brought his backdoor to the tip of his lover’s length and bore down.
There had been a time when he struggled with the stud’s girth, but that time had passed; between the routine fuckings he received, sleeping with a plug lodged in his tush, and being allowed to use dildos to play with himself, his rump was more than capable of accommodating everything his lover had to offer. Suppressing a shudder, as the blunted cock-head popped into him, he gradually impaled himself on his lord’s shaft.
Sombra slowly exhaled, admiring the magnificent spectacle and savoring the warm, snug sensations the changeling afforded. There were few things more captivating than watching a mate wantonly impale themselves on his tool, and this time was no different. His smile broadened, as his hands wandered up to the drone’s ample hips.
“Almost there,” he purred, feeling the changeling tremble. Just as his lover approached his medial ring, marking the thick trunk of his stallionhood, he pulled the lad downward.
Thorax groaned, his stuffed entrance quivering around the behemoth within him, yet he knew he couldn’t sit idle. If his King found his efforts lacking, there was an all too real chance that he’d be dismissed and denied the opportunity to earn the stallion’s seed. Leaning forward slightly, bracing himself partially on his arms, he began rhythmically raising and lowering his waist. While it was a bit embarrassing to fuck himself on somebody, the blissful sensations accosting him more than made up for the vestiges of his pride.
Moving at a steady pace, clenching on the upstrokes and relaxing on the plunges, his eyelids fluttered. Pre-cum drooled from his cage, his perky nipples pressed against the thin fabric of his top, and his breaths fogged the air, as his nervousness was replaced by a wondrous sense of fullness. The physical sensation of being positively brimming with cock would have been compelling enough, but the ethereal lust permeating from the stud was intoxicating.
The thick medial ring ground over his tender p-spot, sending waves of bliss through him, while he acclimated to the immense stallionhood rearranging his insides. Though they were different in almost every conceivable way, it was like they were made for one another - a lock to a very large key. Dropping his head and gazing down at himself, he watched his minuscule package bob and sway above the pair of ripe, nearly grapefruit sized balls of his lord.
Biding his time, Sombra relaxed and enjoyed the show. He’d take a more active role soon enough, but that could wait - for the time being, he was content to let the lad warm himself up. Despite his little act from before, he was actually quite proud of the once excruciatingly timid little shapeshifter. Playfully slapping the jiggling ass for encouragement, watching it all but consume the entirety of his shaft, he grinned.
When they’d first met, Thorax had been far too reserved for his tastes - thankfully, that hadn’t lasted all that long. He’d systematically broken the lad in, supporting and rewarding the femcolt’s latent inclinations to be a cum dumpster, yet there’d been an unforeseen byproduct - he’d found himself developing an intimate taste for the drone. Unlike past lovers, when he’d view his partners as mere objects, the changeling’s delicate touch and demure tendencies had struck on some long-buried soft spot of his - regardless, tender lovemaking or not, he could only restrain himself for so long.
Panting lightly, subconsciously moving faster and faster, Thorax failed to notice the pair of hands moving up his torso until it was too late. In the blink of an eye, a pair of big, burly arms wrapped around his torso and pulled him back, putting his motions to an abrupt halt, as his top was pulled upward. Unable to say anything, stunned by the unforeseen development, a throaty, marish moan escaped him, as his nipples were viciously twisted and pulled.
“What’s the matter, Princess?” Sombra mockingly asked, tugging on the sensitive little buds. “Oh ~ would you prefer I play with your clit?”
His right hand shot to the drone’s crotch, tapping the metal cage and imprisoned colthood which rested there. There were some who had a disdain for chastity, seeing it as a punishment - fortunately, he was not one of them. Ensuring his lovers were only able to achieve release from being plowed was an amazingly effective tool in bending them to his will, cementing their place while simultaneously keeping them in a near-constant state of arousal; his stallionhood was their relief, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“My tits!” Thorax bleated, rocking his hips forward and back. “Please play with my tits.”
While he didn’t have actual bosoms, he’d become accustomed to addressing his chest in such an unbecoming fashion. As shameful as it was to admit, he’d developed an unfettered love of having his nipples played with. Aside from his ass, which had become increasingly sensitive while with Sombra, his nipples were one of the few erogenous zones left for him to use.
Unable to steady himself, with his back shoulders pressed to the stallion’s pecs, he tried and failed to call upon his magic. Sparks shot uselessly from his horn, the aura of his sorcery disappearing as soon as it appeared, leaving him all but immobilized. Craning and turning his head, he peeked up at the wolfish smirk above him. All but powerless to stop his King, he constricted his hole around his lover’s shaft.
Sombra had intended to grab the lad’s legs and put him in a full-nelson, although seeing the pleading look on Thorax’s face gave him a moment for pause. It may have been because of his innumerable sexual conquests, or possibly some empathic ability of the changeling, but he was stricken by the compulsion to do something slightly out of character. Grabbing the femcolt’s hips, aided by his arcane might, he lifted and spun the drone to face himself.
Now kneeling atop his King, with his knees to either side of the stallion’s hips, Thorax was at a loss. He’d never spoken of it, fearing that the stud would view it as some sort of weakness, but he absolutely loved being able to look upon Sombra’s magnificence; while he certainly didn’t mind being bent over and plowed into a coma, there was something almost mystically intimate about seeing his mate’s face. Raising his waist, freeing the lower third of his lord’s length, he rested his hands on his lover’s shoulders.
Gazing longing at one another, their bodies began to move in perfect harmony. Sombra planted his feet and braced his elbows on the arms of the throne, bucking up to meet his svelte mate’s plunges, while Thorax steadied himself and bounced on his stud’s throbbing stallionhood. Though neither gave voice to it, it was a sweet, almost romantic moment between them.
“You’re - Mmmph - so big,” Thorax whimpered.
The cowgirl position, while being remarkably comfortable, wrought havoc on Thorax’s p-spot - not that he would ever complain about it. Bucking atop his king, throwing in the periodic gyration, he did everything in his power to please his lover - alas, it was an insurmountable task. Overwhelmed by the sinful bliss of serving his dark lord, it took everything he had to maintain his composure.
“Such a delicate creature,” Sombra hummed, reaching one hand round to the small of Thorax’s back. “Whatever would you do without me?”
Thorax clamped his eyes shut, the flattery pushing him closer to his limit. “I..I don’t know - Oh god!”
Chuckling to himself, Sombra gave a particularly hard thrust. “Compared to you and that pathetic little clit of yours, that’s practically what I am…”
While many would have balked at the perceived insult, he knew better. The femcolt was, for all intents and purposes, a mare. The friendly reminder of his inferiority wasn’t meant as an insult, as impassive and true as remarking on how the sky is blue, yet it further cemented the disparity of their roles - honestly, if he was being truthful, it was almost insulting to think of the changeling as anything close to a male. They both knew their place, so stating was little more than foreplay.
Holding his lithe mate’s back, unable to restrain himself any longer, he gradually took control. The muscles about his frame tensed, driving the diminutive drone up with each unstoppable buck of his hips. He’d played nice for longer than usual, even surprising himself, yet that time was at an end. If his mate had sought to rouse his carnal hunger, that’s exactly what he was going to get.
With all the unstoppable might of a locomotive leaving its station, the speed and power of his plunges languidly increased. In a matter of minutes, his mate’s motions ground to a halt, although that didn’t bother him in the slightest. His lover had done his job at getting him riled up, now he was going to finish the job.
Thorax’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, the breath hitched in his throat, and an unending stream of pre streamed from his prick, while his bitch-button was mercilessly crushed. Like many times before, and many times yet to come, he submitted to his King’s cock. Even if it would have been possible for him to fight back, to somehow have the strength capable to counter the stud, he wouldn’t have changed a thing.
The sounds of their depravity echoed throughout the vast chamber, crafting a hedonistic symphony of delight. Their love was something special, a juxtaposition of emotion and lechery which mirrored their wildly contrasting personalities and looks. Though they were practically opposites in every conceivable way, they took an odd comfort and contentment with one another - something that neither could fully explain yet that they each appreciated in their own way.
“H…harder,” he sputtered, sensing himself reaching his limit.
Reaching a fevered pitch, pounding up and into the amorous insect, Sombra flew into a frenzy. His carnal appetite was and always had been insatiable, yet something about the shapeshifter seemingly withered his typically unparalleled endurance; be damned if he knew what it was, but it was a regular occurrence with Thorax. Gritting his teeth and setting his jaw, doing his best to stave off the inevitable, he made a dire mistake - he gazed into his lover’s eyes.
Compelled, sensing his stallionhood beginning to flare, he harshly grasped the back of the changeling’s head, shot forward, and forced his tongue into his mate’s muzzle. The wild act of affection took him aback, unable to explain it, although it marked his end. With one final, mighty thrust, he pulled his lover downward, hilted, and erupted within his loyal concubine.
The kiss would have pushed Thorax over the edge, but the influx of thick, seething seed - sweet, merciful stars above, the flood of cum flooding his depths did him in in an instant. His toes curled, he mewled into the stallion’s mouth, and thin, watery spunk spurted from his cage, while he was wracked by his climax. Hugging his King as tightly as he could, he weathered the nirvanic storm and struggled to remain conscious.
He could practically feel what little masculinity he had left slipping away, dripping out of his feeble colthood every time he was claimed. His one regret, were he to name one, was that he hadn’t sought out Sombra sooner, having realized all too late that he was meant to serve the umbral King. Locked in the embrace, he closed his eyes and surrendered himself to the adonic stud.
The moment dragged on for a small infinity, as the intensity of their near-tandem orgasm gave way to the euphoric afterglow of their release. Minutes passed with their tongues entwined, before they almost reluctantly withdrew and stared into one another’s eyes. Slickened in sweat, cum, and saliva, having made a grand mess of the once regal throne, Sombra’s ominous chuckle broke the silence.
“I’ll have you know, this is your fault and you’ll be paying for it later,” he growled, the menace in his voice tinged with amusement.
Thorax gulped and averted his gaze from the stud. “I’ll clean it up as -”
Sombra leaned in and kissed the lad’s nose, silencing him, before getting to his feet. Effortlessly holding the drone to himself, still balls deep in his lover, he strode towards the exit. “I’ll figure out a way to punish you after we’ve had a shower…”
Locking his legs around the stallion’s waist, Thorax looked around in confusion. “You’re carrying me to your room like this?”
The King slowed, cocking his head and incredulously staring down at the changeling in his grasp. “You’re not ashamed of being seen impaled on your lord’s stallionhood, are you?”
Opening his mouth to reply, Thorax caught himself and shook his head. “N…no, Sir, of course not!”
“Good,” Sombra huffed, marching to the door. “You are my mare, you live to serve me - if anything, you should be proud to show your devotion to your King.”
Thorax’s heart skipped a beat, and he caressed his cheek against the stud’s chest, as he was carried into the corridor by his titanic lover. “I am,” he sighed, tightly gripping his mate’s softening length in his behind. “Thank you, my King…”
