Digging Deep

Walking down the first aisle within the Barnyard Bargain shop, Big Mac glanced over at a rack of magazines for the umpteenth time that morning. He’d been in the store for nearly thirty minutes, his cart was practically empty, and he was on his fifth circuit through the place. It would almost seem like he was looking for something, yet that wasn’t the case.

Ordinarily speaking, shopping was an exceptionally easy affair. Once he made a list for himself and his family, he’d go to town, snatch up the items he needed, then be on his way back to the homestead as quickly as he could, making short work of his errands - unfortunately for him, this trek to town hadn’t ended up the way he’d intended. Peeking up at an issue of PlayMare magazine, seeing a striped stud upon the cover, he felt his heart skip a beat.

For all intents and purposes, he had always been a paragon of masculinity. Taller and more heavily built than most stallions, easily as strong as a yak, his powerful physique was mirrored by his cool, stoic demeanor. He’d spent most of his life being interested in mares, taking pride in the lustful looks they’d give him when he was out and about or toiling on the farm, although that changed abruptly almost a month ago.

…

The day had stated like any other. He’d gotten up, hitched himself to a cart laden with several dozen crates of apples, and trudged off to the train station before the sun had crested over the horizon. It wasn’t uncommon for him to make such trips alone, leaving Applejack to look after Granny Smith and Apple Bloom, but that didn’t bother him in the slightest. The cool morning air was refreshing, it was always nice to watch the sunrise, and he’d always savored quiet moments of introspection.

His trip to the station went without anything of note, and he arrived at his destination in less than an hour. Stopping on the platform and waiting for the train to arrive, he lounged on one of the vacant benches and made himself comfortable. As soon as he loaded the apples into one of the freight cars and signed off on an invoice, he’d head home, get himself a hot breakfast, and start his day properly - or so he thought.

It wasn’t long before the train rolled in, its engine steaming and wheels squealing softly against the steel track. While this particular locomotive was affixed with a hoofful of carriages, it had primarily been configured to ship goods. He unseated himself as soon as the massive vehicle came to a halt, stepped between the breechings of his cart, and began pulling his wagon toward the back of the train - that was until he came to a sudden, shuddering halt.

He could count on one hoof the number of times he’d met ponies larger than himself throughout his life, yet the stallion that trotted out of the passenger car was easily the biggest of them all. Standing at nearly a head taller than himself, with a physique that put him to shame, the titan stepped onto the platform and scanned the area with cold, blue eyes. It would have been shocking enough to nearly run into somepony who made him feel small, but the fact that the stranger wasn’t a pony made the development all the more bizarre. Momentarily at a loss, studying the hulking equine, he started when the giant looked over at him with a pair of piercing, brilliant blue eyes.

“Pardon,” the colossus rumbled, dipping his head. “You wouldn’t happen to know the way to the Everfree Forest ~ would you?”

Mac’s jaw flapped uselessly as his mind struggled to process what was going on. “E - uh - Eeeyup.”

The stranger smiled down at him, only glancing momentarily at the apple-laden cart to his rear. “And might I ask for directions?”

Though he was normally quite tacit, the exchange left him quite literally speechless. Tearing his eyes off the behemoth, he pointed to a sign resting just beside the nearby street. Even if he could have found his voice, there was only so much to be said. The Everfree sat at the southern end of town, almost a straight shot from the train station, so it would have been almost impossible for the newcomer to get lost.

Peering off in the direction Mac pointed, the giant gave a small bow. “Many thanks. I am in your debt, Mister…?”

Only eventually realizing he’d been asked a question, Mac swallowed hard. “Big Mac.”

“Shaka,” the titan snickered, his laughter like boulders cascading down a mountain as he held a hoof to his broad, powerful chest. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m going to try and surprise my cousin. Take care, Big Mac.”

Mac nodded and watched the goliath depart, practically feeling the ground quake with every step Shaka took. His eyes drifted over the departing stallion, and drinking in every little detail of the unique creature. Their interaction had lasted mere seconds, they’d spoken fewer than three sentences to one another, and yet he was left with a whole bushel of information to process.

He didn’t consider himself a genius by any means, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Shaka had to be some kin to Zecora. The behemoth was only the second zebra he’d ever met, making it a simple affair to put two and two together - nevertheless, the brief exchange left him shaken. While it was true that he’d been around creatures that were bigger than him on several occasions, this was the first time he’d actually felt small.

The rest of his morning went as smoothly as it could, loading the apples onto the train, heading back home, and sitting down for breakfast with the rest of his family, although the same couldn’t be said for the remainder of his day. No matter what he did or how hard he worked in the orchard, his meeting with Shaka refused to leave his mind. It wasn’t until that evening, once he’d showered and settled into bed for the night, that things took a disastrous turn.

Though he never considered himself an overly sexual stallion, preferring to keep himself busy instead of lusting after carnal pursuits, his dreams that night plagued him. An absolute mountain of a stallion had whispered sweet nothings to him, breathing heavily on his ear while looming over him, and the sinful imaginings hadn't just turned him on. He’d awakened with a start, bolting upright from beneath his sheets, and discovered that his blanket had been dampened with more than just sweat.

It was only by the grace of Celestia that he’d woken up before anypony else in the house, allowing him to wash his linens without raising any questions, but his day didn’t get any easier from that point forward. As he went to work as he always did, tending to the orchard and doing chores around the homestead, his mind fixated on the tremendous zebra who’d haunted his dreams. After he’d nearly bucked a tree in half, kicking it so hard as to crack the trunk, he understood he had to do something to remedy his plight.

He initially debated going out to Zecora’s hut to see Shaka again, if only to properly introduce himself, although the idea left him torn. On one hoof, he feared that speaking with the giant would only make his condition worse - on the other, he was genuinely curious to learn more about the colossus. In the end, he talked himself out of going, too anxious and confused to fully commit, and so he did the only thing he could think of - work himself to the bone and pray the intrusive thoughts would leave him.

…

“Excuse me,” a voice quietly asked, shaking Mac from his stupor and bringing him back to the present.

He reflexively stepped aside and let a mare walk past him. As unfortunate as it was, the sight of the PlayMare magazine reminded him of Shaka in a heartbeat. It wasn’t like he’d gone out to get something so crass, simply wishing to pick up cereal and a few items for the house, yet seeing the zebra on the cover of the publication piqued his curiosity. In a moment of weakness, he reached out, snatched the article from the rack, and slipped it under a bag of oats in his cart.

While he doubted the pony working at the checkout counter would say anything to him about the purchase, the idea of buying something so scandalous made him more anxious than he’d been in ages - even though it shouldn’t have. Ponies were free to love or lust after whoever they so choose, regardless of their sex or gender - shucks, his own cousin Braeburn was exclusively interested in stallions, but this was new for him. It may have been silly and completely unwarranted, but he’d rather avoid his name or his budding obsession.

After quickly getting what was left on his grocery list, he proceeded to the checkout, heaped his goods onto the counter, and impatiently waited to be wrung up. The clerk languidly tallied each item, punching the amounts into the register, while he tapped his hoof on the floor beneath him. Everything was going smoothly until the employee spotted the dirty magazine. Though the cashier didn’t say anything to him, the young stallion did give him the barest hint of a smile before secreting the publication under several items in his cart.

Mac paid in a flash, practically shoveling the small stack of coins onto the employee, and scampered out and to his awaiting wagon. He was thankful that he hadn’t had to say anything to the clerk, but he was mortified all the same. His face had gone an even brighter shade of red than usual, his heart was pounding, and beads of sweat dotted his brow - still, he’d managed to get out without calling too much attention to himself.

As he transferred his items from the shopping cart and into his wagon, nestling everything behind several bales of straw and hay he’d purchased when he’d first gotten into town, he paused when he got to the issue of PlayMare. It would be easy enough to slip the taboo item into his room without his siblings or Granny Smith seeing it, but his passions were running far too hot to wait that long. His eyes shot to the side and down an alley, noticing the shady, vacant sidestreet several feet away, and the corners of his lips turned up.

Giving himself a peek wouldn’t hurt anything ~ right? He lifted and looked around behind himself, ensuring he wasn’t being watched, as he nonchalantly trotted into the alley. He told himself that he deserved to glance through the article, that it was merely to sate his curiosity, yet that was only a partial truth. He stepped behind a stack of palates and out of sight of any passersby, flipped through the pages of the publication, and stopped when he reached the main article.

Striped Sins, a way to please any mare or stallion…

He’d simply expected to find some pinups, spreads of stallions showing their stuff in the most seductive way possible, but he’d stumbled upon so much more than that. The title of the article said it all, shifting his focus from the pictures to the writing scrawled upon the page. It wasn’t that the images weren’t hot, displaying striped studs in all manner of provocative poses, but the editorial was almost painfully arousing.

There was no way for him to know if the column was true or not, but it alleged that Zebras were lovers beyond peer. Both larger and more dominant than their pony kin, Zebricans were apparently very assertive with stallions or mares, with a great many being open to making love to either sex. The more he read, the more he got turned on - the more he got turned on, the more his raging libido sent blood to the last place it needed to be.

It wasn’t until he felt a peculiar ache in his loins that he lowered the magazine and noticed just how aroused he’d gotten. Dangling beneath him, his stallionhood hung under its own immense weight. He’d had no doubt that he’d been getting worked up, imagining if Shaka was like the stallions described in the article, yet he’d had no way of knowing just how excited he’d gotten.

Staring down at his length, he grimaced. This wasn’t good - this wasn’t good at all. While it was completely acceptable for a stallion to trot about in the buff, sauntering around with an erection would be less than ideal. Thinking fast, realizing his groceries would be fine resting in his cart for the time being, he was stricken with an idea.

The way he saw it, he only had two options to work with: he could either linger in the alley and hope he went soft, a prospect which seemed unlikely given the circumstances, or he could find somewhere that allowed ponies to walk around with a boner. Seeing as how Ponyville wasn’t exactly a bustling metropolis, with nearly everypony knowing one another, there was only one place he could think of to wait out his erection - the local adult shoppe. As luck would have it, the den of depravity, the only store that sold anything overtly lewd besides magazines, wasn’t far away - easily close enough for him to make a dash without anypony seeing him or his big, floppy problem.

He crept to the opposite end of the alley, checked to make sure the coast was clear, and made a break for it. For somepony of his size and heft, he was actually quite quick, having surprised even Rainbow Dash with his speed, so he dashed down the block, around the corner, and burst through the front doors of the store in a matter of seconds. Panting heavily, he caught his breath and looked up to the stunned shopkeeper.

Lifting a forehoof, he trotted in and into the rows upon rows of hedonistic delights. He had nopony to blame but himself for the embarrassing turn of events, practically kicking himself for not waiting to get to his room to crack open the issue of PlayMare, but it wasn’t the end of the world. Soon enough, he’d calm down, see himself out, and bring his purchases back home.

He idly looked up and down the racks of sex-toys, accessories, and slatternly garments, simply whiling away his time, until something unique caught his eye. In a box streaked with black and white bands, prominently displaying the face of a zebra, was an absolutely huge dildo. The immaculately crafted length of silicone was a piece of art, sporting everything from veins along its shaft to a thick medial ring, and he couldn’t fathom how anypony, much less a pony smaller than himself, could comfortably manage something so dauntingly huge.

“He’s a new model,” a voice softly proclaimed, practically making Mac jump out of his skin. “Life-cast from some Zebrican porn star - what’s his name, Mkuu or something…”

While he hadn’t asked for the information, nor the clerk to come over and start chatting with him, Mac was impressed. As big as - no, maybe slightly bigger than his stallionhood, the dong did little to quell his licentious desires. He peeked down at the price, noticed that it was on sale, and gulped. As insane as it was to think about, never once having used his backdoor for anything other than its intended purpose, he was compelled to make a very impulsive purchase.

Grabbing one of the dildos from the rack, he wheeled around, proceeded to the front counter, and snatched up a bottle of lube by the register. Buck it - he rarely if ever bought anything for himself, he had more than enough bits to spare, and it was nopony’s business what he did in the seclusion of his bedroom. He handed the items to the employee without saying a word, dug into the little sack of coins he kept attached to his yolk, and counted out the bits.

The cashier was as polite and courteous as could be, mutely placing the items in an innocuous paper bag and passing them back to his customer. “Have a good day!”

Mac faltered, struggling not to smile, and nodded. “Eeyup…”

He attempted to calmly walk out, trying and failing to play it cool, but he broke into a canter as soon as he stepped out of the shop. Either the universe had a grand sense of irony or a certain Draconequus was playing a prank on him - in either case, he hurried back to the front of Barnyard Bargains, threw his dubious purchases in the cart, and prepared himself for the long trip back to the farm. As he hauled the wagon behind himself, barely paying any mind to the ponies he passed, his thoughts sank deeper into lecherous waters.

Though his stallionhood had softened to a degree, freely swinging beneath him, his concern about his appearance was eclipsed by a welling giddiness. The taboo of having bought a naughty magazine was thrilling, but not nearly as thrilling as what rested within the nondescript bag in the back of his cart. Without realizing it, he hastened his pace and briskly strolled out of town.

His hike back to the orchard sailed by in what felt like seconds, leading him into the country surrounding his home, but he slowed when he spotted his house on the horizon. Granny, Applejack, and Apple Bloom would almost certainly be up by now, tainting his wanton glee with anxiety. He loved his family more than anypony, so the last thing he needed or wanted was for them to become aware of his questionable investments.

As he neared the farmstead, he looked over to the barn. It only made sense to do anything obscene in his room, yet the amount of privacy he had there was finite. Given the thin walls of the house, and the fact that nopony ever locked their doors, there was a very real chance that one of his sisters or Granny could inadvertently catch him in the act of having some personal time - a slim chance, but a chance he wasn’t willing to risk. Coming to a halt beside the barn and uncoupling himself from the wagon, keeping his eyes on the home, he surreptitiously gathered up his issue of PlayMare, the lube, and the dildo.

While he’d always been open and honest with his family, he’d really rather not have them knowing about his carnal side - as such, doing anything even remotely sexual would have to be done cautiously. Sneaking into the cavernous building and to the stairwell, listening for any signs of movement, he crept into the hayloft. The top floor of the structure was largely abandoned, serving as a storage area for old furniture and scrap lumber, and it would be the perfect spot to do anything secretive.

He stashed his amorous acquisitions within a wardrobe that hadn’t been used in at least a decade, trotted back downstairs, and pulled the wagon to the front of the house. If anypony had noticed that he’d returned home, there was no sign of it. Once he’d taken a moment to collect himself, wiping the silly little grin from his face, he calmly threw the bag of oats onto his shoulder and saw himself inside.

His morning and afternoon proceeded as usual. He ate with his family, helped clean up from breakfast, and set to work around the farm - all the while musing on all the depraved things he was going to do to himself later that evening. As the day dragged on, moving from one task to the next, all he could do was think about getting some time to himself with his magazine and his new toy. Darned if he could say if he’d end up using the dildo on himself, considering how gosh darn big it was, but even an impassive stallion like himself was prone to the odd bout of reckless spending.

It was difficult to keep up appearances, hiding his mounting enthusiasm throughout the day, but somehow managed not to draw any attention to himself. Things eventually wound down after the sun had set, giving him an opportunity to enact his scheme. One good thing about the Apple family was that they were deep sleepers, oftentimes snoozing through major storms, so he was able to slip out of the house with relative ease.

Through the yard and into the barn he meandered, taking the utmost care not to make a noise. As if being stealthy wasn’t out of character enough for him, it didn’t hold a candle to what he’d done before he left the homestead. While it may have been preemptive and unnecessary, still unsure of if he’d follow through with what could be a foolhardy scheme, but he’d thoroughly cleaned every part of himself - both inside and out.

He hadn’t done so himself, having had no reason to in the past, but he was completely aware of the preparations necessary for anal. His behind may have been virginal, but he’d made sure it would be ready for any sort of action if he was so inclined. There was no way for him to know what he’d end up doing in the barn, so being ready for anything wasn’t the worst decision he’d made that day.

Closing the door behind himself, he trotted up and into the loft, gathered his things, and made himself comfortable against an old dresser. Erring on the side of caution, he only had a small oil lamp to light the area, but that was enough to let him see all the deliciously dirty pictures in his magazine. Whereas he’d primarily focused on the article earlier, being taken off guard by just how provocative the column was, he fixated on each image as though it were a work of art.

Each stallion depicted was an adonis, muscular and in their prime, and the intrusive, insidious thoughts he’d been grappling came rushing back in an instant at the sight of them. The stripes on their fur, the lustful looks in their eyes, and the dark flesh on their stallionhoods set his heart aflutter. There was no way for him to know how big the zebra models were, having no context for their precise size, yet he couldn’t help but imagine that each was as large as Shaka.

Stars above - though he’d spent no more than a few minutes around the mohawked titan, he couldn’t shake the colossal zebra from his mind. Shaka’s immense size, the patterns on his hide, his build, and sonorous voice moved him in a way that shouldn’t have been possible, igniting the fires of his lust into an unquenchable inferno. Shifting his gaze from the magazine, he leaned over and reached for the boxed dildo.

To Tartarus with it - he was a grown stallion and he saw no point in letting the sex-toy merely be something to look at. He dropped the magazine at his side, keeping it open on a particularly alluring spread of a Zebrican stud, and flipped the top of the box open. As he pulled the silicone dong free, marveling at the intricate details on its impressive length, his pucker clenched upon itself.

On top of acting wholly off his compulsions, never having done anything with a stallion before, he lifted the dildo to his face, gave the tip a small kiss, and wrapped his lips around the yielding shaft. The texture was odd, unnaturally cool, yet the sensation of it against his tongue excited him immeasurably. He closed his eyes and softly groaned as his imagination ran positively wild.

While he raised and lowered his head, fantasizing about what it would be like to actually give somepony a blowjob, he was amazed with how arousing the concept was. Left to wonder what it would be like to have a real cock against his tongue, he glanced down and at the magazine next to him. If the editorial was true, and he had no reason to believe it wasn’t, he may need to hunt down Shaka again.

To say going finding and visiting the towering Zebra was a crazy idea would be an understatement of profound proportions - even so, the notion was extraordinarily exhilarating. It would be easy enough to go to Zecora’s hut with a freshly baked apple pie, merely wishing to give Shaka a proper greeting, and it would give him what he so desperately craved. Even if things didn’t progress past more than simply chatting, he’d love to see the giant again.

He leaned in, brought the molded cock-head to the back of his throat, and stifled a gag. Enthusiasm could only get him so far, especially given his utter lack of experience with any sort of oral, but he wasn’t about to give up - not yet anyways. Fellating the toy as best he could, running his tongue along the underside, he clutched his stallionhood with his free forehoof and began languidly stroking himself off.

If he’d had the slightest idea that sucking on a dildo would be as stimulating as it was, he may have bought one for himself ages ago - sadly, it had taken his fateful encounter with Shaka and a series of unforeseen coincidences to drive him to that moment. Leaving streaks of saliva along the molded shaft, appreciating the fine details of the dildo within his muzzle, he mopped the length with his lips. Lost to his thoughts, envisioning what it would be like if the toy was real, he fell still when something warm and wet graced the frog of his hoof.

He knew he’d been more turned on than he had any right to be, but he failed to realize just how turned on he’d gotten. As he peeked downward, his eyes widened when he saw pre-cum drooling from his dick. Any reasonable stallion would have continued getting themselves off in a conventional sense - then again, he wasn’t exactly feeling reasonable.

Rearing back and pulling the dildo from his snout, he released his stallionhood and snatched up the bottle of lube. He may regret it - heck, he could almost guarantee he’d regret it, but he had to at least try to use the toy for its intended purpose. Fueled by his desires, he pushed himself up, licked the suction cup base on the dong, and firmly planted the toy on one of the floorboards.

Allowing his instincts to guide him, he hastily, almost frantically applied a liberal drizzle of lube over the toy. Though he had no idea what he was doing, having entered uncharted territory several minutes prior, he couldn’t stop himself. He peered down his heaving chest and past his stallionhood, staying firmly planted on the dildo, as he gradually lowered himself and kissed his pucker to the cool, battering ram-like tip of silicone.

Bearing his weight against the toy, feeling it flex beneath him, he gnawed his bottom lip. If he had even the slightest chance of getting dong into himself, he’d have to relax. He remained where he stood and breathed, giving himself a moment to calm down, before making a second attempt. The dildo held firm, bowing slightly while he applied more weight, until it happened. With an all but audible pop, his hole was forced open and embraced the slickened shaft.

The intrusion was so sudden that he gasped, taken aback by the alien feelings washing over him. He wanted to say that it felt like he had to use the bathroom, but that wasn’t completely accurate. Intense - he could only describe the sensation as intense and a bit strange, though it was far from unpleasant. Dipping his head to look down at himself, he continued his downward descent.

Lower and lower he crept, his stallionhood coming to rest on the floor under him, before a bolt of pleasure coursed through him. He’d heard about the prostate before, the male analog to the g-spot on mares, but the stories he’d been told hadn’t done it justice. The stimulation he received was unlike anything he’d experienced before, making him forget all about his leaking, pulsing dick.

He only slowed when he reached the midway point on the toy, feeling the girthy medial ring bump against his twitching hole. Having the dildo in him was incredible beyond words, yet remaining squatted on the thing wasn’t what it was meant for. Lifting his hips and freeing several inches of the toy, unable to tell just how much of the dong he’d managed to get into himself, he sank down again.

For the second time in seconds, he sharply inhaled. He could tell without looking that he was nailing his p-spot, filling him with the confidence to continue. His second plunge was met by a second, then a third and a fourth, until he was wantonly bouncing his ass on the dildo. Up and down, in and out - each movement was met with surges of pure, unrefined bliss.

His technique was sloppy and amateurish, yet he moved harder and faster with every passing second. Balancing on three hooves, he fumbled for the magazine. Screwing himself was way, way better than he could have dared to dream it would be, but getting a bit more inspiration definitely wouldn’t hurt anything. As he stared down at the page, locking eyes with the Zebrican stallion holding his cock, he softly whimpered.

The sound of his own voice, hearing how marish he was, sent him into a frenzy. He was Big Macintosh, stud of renown, and yet he was unabashedly plowing his ass with an absolutely monstrous sex-toy while daydreaming about a stud he’d only just met! While a part of him was embarrassed about what he was doing, he was beyond the point of no return. Slipping into a rut-lust, chasing a growing feeling blossoming deep in his abdomen, his zeal was ultimately his undoing.

He didn’t even know how close he was to a climax until it was too late. With a hushed, feminine while, he hilted himself on the toy and blew his load. Spunk dribbled from his pulsing stallionhood, seeping through the cracks on the floor, while his battered hole convulsed and needily clung to the dildo. As much as he should have cared about the mess he was making, his mind lay elsewhere.

Beset by ecstasy, barely able to breathe, he panted while the air steamed around him. He’d masturbated more times than he could count over the years, but the sheer amount of pleasure delivered by the sex-toy was on an entirely different level to an ordinary climax. He giggled like a school filly, then quietly laughed, as he reached down to touch the balls of the dong.

Yeah, he had some cleaning up to do before he shuffled back to his room and into his bed - sure, he might be sore and walking funny in the morning, but it had been worth it. Unsteadily standing and unsheathing the toy from his rear, he nearly collapsed against the dresser beside him. Though the entire experience couldn’t have lasted more than a few minutes, he could barely stand up straight.

He wearily turned and gazed down upon the toy, shocked by just how incredible it was, and smiled. Yeah - buying the thing had definitely been worth it, but it came with a cost he couldn’t have predicted. Seeing its length glistening in the dim light, watching a bead of lube glide down to its balls, he wondered how much more phenomenal it would be like if he’d been with a living, breathing stallion…