Hero Worship

Once I finally finished my pineapple juice, Nurse Redheart took the tray away with a kiss and a smile, and showed in my next visitor: a stallion named Featherweight who was the editor, photographer and only reporter for this small town’s newspaper. The gangling pegasus carried a small notebook and held a pencil behind his ear, and I sighed with relief to see a fellow male. Finally, a visitor who wasn’t desperate to force himself on my cock... probably... hopefully...

Featherweight sat down on a large pile of gardenias and cleared his throat awkwardly. “First, Jordan, I want to make sure there are no hard feelings about the story I wrote when you moved to Ponyville last year.”

“You mean Huge Biped Menaces Equestria, Steals Pony Jobs?” I asked with a roll of my eyes.

“I was only doing my job, you understand,” Featherweight defended himself.

“I’m just glad the Cakes didn’t read that article...”

Featherweight held his pencil in one wing and began to take notes. “They’ll definitely be reading this one,” he assured. “According to the official reports, you took on a manticore, unarmed and alone. Aren’t you concerned that your heroic actions might set unrealistic expectations for other ponies?”

I thought back on the jumbled memories of the traumatic experience that had brought me here to the hospital. “I didn’t even think,” I recalled. “I just did what I had to do to protect the twins. Even though it cost me my arm, I’d do it again in a minute.”

Featherweight groaned. It seemed as if this wasn’t the answer he wanted. “A record number of Ponyville’s mares are interested in joining your herd.” He changed the subject. “Do you really think that’s fair to us single stallions?”

“I’m not going to start a herd,” I protested. “Who told them I was?”

“I’ll publish your denial,” Featherweight told me, “but it won’t matter much. If Ponyville’s mares want this badly enough — and they do — you’ll be heading a herd by the time you leave this hospital. Of course, I could help you a bit. I can always spread it around that you’re, let’s say, ‘not interested in mares.’”

“No, that’s not it at all,” I tried to explain. “I always imagined settling down with a girlfriend... I mean, a special somepony... but I only want one!”

“Did I hear that a hero is looking for a very special somepony?” came a loud, brash voice from the doorway.

“Oh!” Featherweight jumped with surprise at the sight of Mayor Mare, the statuesque leader of Ponyville’s political scene. “Hello, madam mayor... I was just leaving!”

“Stick around, Featherweight. I want pictures of this, and I want them to run on the front page.”

“Y-yes, ma’am, I’ll see what I can do.” The scrawny stallion and I both quivered before the imposing earth pony as she strutted towards my bed, her geeky assistant Writing Desk swiftly following behind her.

Mayor Mare was tall for a pony, and commanding, with a slim, powerful body that nonetheless screamed “MILF.” The seasoned politician’s swooping mane was a distinguished grey colour, with the merest hint of pink roots showing. Though her beauty and confidence had me thinking naughty thoughts, her face was stern and she seemed all business. Surely I wasn’t about to frolic with the leader of Ponyville’s government, while a reporter watched on. Being a hero only brought a guy so far, after all!

“What’s this all about, mayor?” I asked. “Did I do something wrong?”

The mayor ignored me and spoke to her assistant. “Fluff him.”

“Yes, mayor.”

“Wh-what?” I cried out.

“You were so brave, Jordan,” Writing Desk whispered in my ear. “Every mare in town wishes she was here right now.” She kissed me passionately. “Once you’re feeling better, I’ll guide you through the paperwork for starting a herd.”

“But, I didn’t—”

“Ssh. You’re outvoted, sweetie. Just enjoy it.” Writing Desk nuzzled her warm lips against my overused cock, which had finally gone limp as I processed the seemingly frigid confrontation with the mayor. Now I swiftly swelled again in her assistant’s mouth.

It was embarrassing how eager my dick was to play with the nerdish earth pony, to throb between her lips and feed her the fat load of cum that even now built within me. Yet my desire was nothing compared to hers. Deep moans of satisfaction spilled from Writing Desk’s lips as she hungrily worshipped my staff with sloppy slurps and glurks. Her glasses fogged up, her hooves quivered, her firm flank shook, and only her hard won professionalism kept her from rubbing herself as she sucked me to the stiffest stiffy of my life.

Mayor Mare frowned, all too aware that her assistant’s horny cocklust was threatening to upstage her. “That’s enough, Writing Desk,” she insisted. “If you make him pop, we’ll have to start all over.” She pushed the other mare away and stood beside my bedside, eyeing my suddenly abandoned prick. “Photos, Featherweight!” she insisted.

“Right away, mayor.” The pegasus reporter lifted an old fashioned camera to his wither and pointed it at the obscene scene. The mature mare straightened her ruffled tie and parted her lips at the verge of my cock’s throbbing head. “A Hero’s Reward,” she murmured softly and lovingly. “‘Just Doing My Job,’ Says Mayor.”

“Mayor, you don’t get to write the headlines...” Featherweight protested.

“Five minutes underneath my desk tonight says I do,” the mayor countered. Featherweight took a picture quick as a flash. The pop of his flashbulb captured the mayor’s look of reverence as she tenderly extended her large tongue to polish my head. “Oh, I do love honouring heroes... especially when they’re this well hung.”

“Oh, mayor! Thank you! It’s amazing!” I cried out, feeling the wet touch of an incredibly talented pony tongue on my most sensitive parts.

“No, thank you, Jordan.” The mayor covered my swelling, turgid prick with soft and tender kisses. “If more of Ponyville’s citizens were like you and showed initiative, we’d see fewer bugbear attacks and changeling invasions.” She lazily traced down my shaft with her lips, tapping me gently with her sizzling tongue. “Maybe I’d be able to spend less time applying for disaster relief, and more time serving my constituents.”

Featherweight’s camera flashed again and again as the mayor delved her mouth onto my prick, taking me into her warm wetness and sucking on my manhood with incredible power and skill. I knew that I would face dire consequences for this moment of pleasure. Tomorrow all of Ponyville would know exactly what the human “hero’s” cock looked like, and the drumbeat of mares insisting to join my herd would only grow louder.

“Can’t forget the balls,” the mayor mused after taking me all the way down to my base a few times. She lifted my sack gently in the soft frog of her hoof. “Oh, it’s utterly degrading for an intelligent, independent mare to be reduced to a stallion’s testicle warmer, but a hero deserves the best.” She waved at her assistant. “Get his balls, sweetheart.”

“I’d love to, mayor.” Writing Desk eagerly pushed her muzzle beneath the mayor’s and ran her tongue up one of my twitching orbs, then sucked it gently into her mouth, driving a whimper from my lips. “Mmm,” she moaned. “What a privilege, just to suck on them...” My other nut, not to be left out, swiftly received the same loving treatment. As much as she tried, though, she couldn’t fit both of my swollen testicles in her muzzle at once, so she simply moved back and forth, pampering one and then its brother.

The glamorous mayor and her mousy assistant skilfully brought me to the verge and kept me there for minutes on end, teasing, kissing, sucking and praising, with a gentle nip here and there when my swelling threatened to get out of control and put a premature end to the two mares’ fun. At last my silver haired domme bobbed her throat onto my shaft a few times, then pulled me out just as I started to grunt and swell. The dribble of my pre swiftly turned into a stream, my once denied orgasm now suddenly a foregone conclusion. The mayor gazed at me over the top of her glasses and extended her upper lip to a teasing pout of mock disapproval.

“As much as I’m enjoying this, Jordan, I haven’t got all day, so if you think you can handle it, I want the biggest load you’ve ever shot... ah, there we are!” That stern gaze put me over the top. I moaned pathetically and came without the mayor even touching my cock.

Despite my fourth orgasm in 24 hours, Nurse Snowheart’s night of edging had set my balls to working overtime. I sprayed forth a veritable fountain of thick, silver ropes, which the mayor calmly accepted across her face and glasses as the proof of her generosity. Writing Desk lightly nipped my sensitive nutflesh as I came, coaxing even more seed out of me to coat the haughty MILF who acted as though I was simply giving her her due.

The mayor smiled kindly as my eruption slowly faded down to stray spurts and dribbles. She whispered the headline she wanted to see. “A Sticky Reception: Mayor Ensures Patients at Ponyville General are Well Treated.” The dominant mare posed for another photo, her face covered in my seed as she lovingly kissed my finally softening cock.

Featherweight bit his lip with a look of pure jealousy, but his pride as a journalist made him do his best to get the story. “Mayor, any comment on how humans are different from stallions?”

“In all my years of public service, I’ve never serviced a cock as fine as Jordan’s,” the mayor told Featherweight. “You can quote me on that — in fact, you’d better.”

Featherweight hurriedly jotted in his notebook. “Mayor has never serviced a cock...”

Writing Desk carefully licked the sticky mess off of her boss’ muzzle and fed her my cum with slow, firm kisses. “No photos of this,” the mayor cautioned. “You may watch, though.”

Featherweight and I both stared at the sight, utterly entranced, saving up this scorching image to use in our spank banks later. Tongues touched wetly as the mayor and her assistant kissed primly, never breaking eye contact with us, gradually moving every string and strand of my cum into the older mare’s mouth. The mayor was used to using her sexuality to get whatever she wanted, and it was a simple matter to bend any male to her will by putting on a sexy show with her charming young assistant. This wasn’t genuine lesbian passion, not at all — yet its very fakeness only made it seem hotter.

Finally Writing Desk licked the last strand of my cum from the mayor’s glasses and slipped her tongue into the older mare’s mouth to have it cleaned off. Tidy and fresh once again, the mayor patted Featherweight on the wither. “I’ll expect an in-depth profile on my longtime friendship with Jordan in tomorrow’s edition,” she asserted arrogantly. “After all, my re-election campaign is coming up. Ponyville wants a mayor who can deepthroat every inch. Not like that upstart Amethyst Star.”

“B-But we’re about to run my big story about corruption in the Royal Guard!”

The mayor scoffed. “Writing Desk, it sounds like Featherweight needs a little ‘convincing’ to run this story on the front page. You can use the bed in my office.”

“Yes, mayor.” Writing Desk trotted confidently over to the scrawny pegasus and gently stroked his muzzle as he began to unsheath.

“Clean up after yourself,” Mayor Mare demanded, “and for pony’s sake, use protection! I need that womb of yours clear and ready.” She closed her eyes and visualized another headline: “Mayor and Assistant First to Bear Hero’s Foals. Yes, they’ll make me mayor for life after that...”

The pushy MILF gripped my limp cock firmly between the soft pads of her front hooves. “Now as for you,” she growled. “If Amethyst comes here and tries to upstage me with one of her publicity stunts, I want you to choke her into a coma. Destroy her throat. Ruin her makeup. Leave her a wrecked, gagging mess. Show her what happens to stupid fillies who think they can play with the big girls. And don’t you dare cum inside her, especially on camera.”

“Mayor, I... I can’t even move! I’m missing my arm! What do you want from me?”

The mayor lifted her eyes from my cock to my face. “I wasn’t talking to you,” she sniffed.