Digging Deep

“You sure we can’t convince you to stay here tonight, honey?” Dumpling asked, reluctantly breaking her embrace with the giant, crimson stallion.

Smiling over at the behemoth, Koozie motioned to a couch behind him. “Honestly, it’s not a big deal! You can have Bab’s bed! She can sleep on the -”

“Are you seriously going to make me sleep on the couch?” Babs protested, glowering up at her father.

“Oh hush, Babs! It’d only be for one night - besides, when’s the last time Big Mac came all the way to Manehattan for a visit?” Dumpling countered, giving the filly a stern but not overly upset look.

Freed from his aunt’s hug, Mac stepped to the side and tousled the filly’s hair. He wasn’t going to evict her from her bed, no matter how much Dumpling or Koozie insisted on it, so she had nothing to worry about. As he moved over and shook hooves with his uncle, giving the older stallion a pat on the back, his smile broadened.

He could understand why his distant family were cheerfully surprised to have him show up on their doorstep, and he had every intention of being in town for another two days to spend time with them, but seeing them wasn’t the only reason he’d made the hours-long trek to Manehattan. Giving his aunt a parting kiss, he ponderously turned, trotted out, and waved over his shoulder. Between the hours he’d spent on the train, the full meal his kin had generously prepared for him, and knowing he’d be spending more time with his aunt, uncle, and cousin, nopony could blame him for wanting to retire to his hotel room for some sleep.

Trotting out of the townhouse and down to the sidewalk, he paused beneath a streetlamp to get his bearings. It was well after sunset, there was a chill in the air, and the city seemed to be calming down from the hustle and bustle of the day, causing the corners of his lips to turn up. He really was happy to go and see Dumpling, Koozie, and Babs, yet visiting them gave him the perfect opportunity to try something brash and just a bit crazy.

As he meandered in the direction of his hotel, his pace quickened. Under ordinary circumstances, he would have only made the trek to Manehattan with Applejack, Granny Smith, and Applebloom, although this was a special occasion. Even though he wasn’t a fan of bigger cities, finding all the hubbub and noise far more stressful than it should be, he’d decided to make the journey on his lonesome.

His family back in Ponyville hadn’t been all that bothered by his seemingly spontaneous departure, finding it a bit odd but not questioning him on it, so he’d packed his bags, bid them farewell, and gone to town to board the train. Heaven only knows what Granny and Applejack or, Celestia forbid, Apple Bloom would think if they knew the real reason he was taking his little vacation, but he didn’t have too much to worry about. As far as his kin knew, he was simply going to reconnect with his aunt, uncle, and cousin - nothing more.

Stopping at a crosswalk, nearly having trotted out into the busy street, he scrunched his snout. His true motivation for going to Manehattan was about as shameful as it could get, easily one of the most impulsive things he’d ever done, but he couldn’t help it. Meeting Shaka that fateful day had shined a light on a side of him he’d never known existed. He’d opened Pandora's box, though he’d had no way of knowing it at the time, and he was getting worse off by the day.

The dirty magazine and dildo he’d purchased had served him well for a time, leading to several weeks of clandestine enjoyment in the hayloft, but eventually the novelty faded and his curiosity bloomed. More issues of PlayMare were bought, he’d visited the library on a few occasions, and he’d engrossed himself in his newfound, admittedly shameful obsession. As he’d been quick to learn, Zebrican stallions weren’t just easy on the eyes, they were dominant, strong, and, according to his research, absolute gods in the bedroom.

Delving deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole, finding nothing to turn him away from his perverse fascination with Zebras, he’d gone so far as to buy a second, slightly larger sex-toy with a suction cup base. There was nothing wrong with the original dong he’d gotten for himself, but the new one gave him a whole host of positions to get himself off in. He’s affixed the silicone length to walls, furniture, the floor - anywhere he could stick it, and bucked against it like a horny mare.

He could have - should have been content with the depths of depravity in which he’d sunk, realizing the perils of going deeper, but he’d cast his inhibitions to the wind. No matter how many times he fucked himself, in spite of or possibly due to his interests, he found himself yearning to experience the real thing. Sex toys were all well and good, but to get rutted by an actual stallion - he shivered with excitement at the mere thought.

Shifting as a stallion brushed by him, he was shaken from his thoughts and trotted onward and to the Mariotte. He’d checked in at the hotel shortly after arriving, and was going to stay there for the next two nights, but his room would be for more than just sleeping. While he’d initially debated going to speak with Shaka again, he hadn’t been able to work up the nerve to go to Zecora’s hut.

He’d tried - stars above, he’d tried to summon the courage to seek out the striped titan, yet the idea of speaking with the giant made him nervous in a way that shouldn’t have been possible. What should have been something so simple as trotting to the Everfree, knocking at a door, and properly introducing himself made knots form in his stomach and made him weak in the knees. Sooner or later, purposefully or not, he felt certain he’d bump into Shaka again, though that may not be for some time.

It may have - no, it definitely was crazy, but his lust-addled brain had ultimately settled on a way for him to get what he wanted without blowing his chances with Shaka. Throughout the wellspring of lecherous articles he’d poured over, he’d learned that there were certain places that ponies could go to indulge themselves in an anonymous fashion. The concept of using a glory hole was a bit disconcerting, so much so that he’d initially written off the idea entirely, yet the concept had gradually warmed on him. If he could get his first taste of the genuine article, even if it was sucking off some stranger, he’d bite the proverbial bullet - after all, for all he knew, he might not even like doing anything with a living, breathing stallion!

Having reached and entered the Mariotte, Mac rode the lift up to his floor. He tended to travel light, only bringing the bare necessities for trips, and this time was no exception. As the door to his suite opened, his eyes shot to the pair of saddlebags he’d placed at the foot of his bed. Besides bringing some spare bits and toiletries, he’d included a few special items in with his effects.

He’s stashed his pair of dildos and some lube in with his meager belongings, although those weren’t nearly as important as a hastily scribbled and crudely drawn map he’d made for himself. What should have been an easy task, finding the right spot to slake his lust in a furtive manner, became inordinately difficult due to his fear of being found out. It had taken him a week to pen a letter to the publisher of PlayMare, and the better part of a month of silently keeping his hooves crossed that he’d get an answer, but his patience had paid off.

The Black Stripe - that was the name of the bar he’d been directed to. Not only did the establishment cater to stallions who preferred the company of other stallions, but the place was purportedly owned by a zebra. He stared down at the map he’d made for himself, committing the route from his hotel to his destination to memory, before he scampered into the bathroom to make himself ready.

His shower and preparation only took a hoofful of minutes, though he grew increasingly excited throughout the endeavor. While it may have been a bit excessive to thoroughly clean himself as a small investment. He doubted he’d be doing anything more than maybe sucking or fondling a dick, if he was lucky, but he’d almost definitely end up screwing himself silly with one or both of his toys once he got back to his room later that night.

With nothing more to be done, he briefly inspected himself in the mirror, smiled, and saw himself out. He’d been tempted to pick up some lipstick for himself, if only to add an erotic element to the taboo act he’d hopefully be doing, but he saw little point in going that far; nopony would be able to see him, save for his muzzle, and he wasn’t about to go trotting down the street with his lips painted. Down the lift, through the lobby, and into the chill air he strode, his heart racing all the while.

The good news was that he was able to find The Black Stripe with ease, following the street signs into a shabbier area of town - the bad news was that the place was far from glamorous. A small, relatively innocuous placard above a set of stairs that descended to the basement of a run-down brick building. Though he’d expected to find a name printed on the sign, the panel was completely barren of any writing; instead of words, a large, black streak had been painted across the hanging plank of wood.

He smiled up at the sign, finding it rather clever, before he shifted his gaze down to a large, metal door. There was still time for him to turn back, to change his mind and go back to his room, but he wasn’t about to let weeks’ worth of planning, a train trip, and all his hard work go to waste. Steadily descending from the street, he lifted a hoof and loudly tapped on the entryway.

With a metal click, a metal spyhole was slid open in the door. “Yeah?” a gruff voice inquired.

“Ah…” Mac paused, unsure of what to say.

Though he had found the place, he’d discovered perilously little details of the protocol or etiquette involved for amorous activities therein. He knit his brow and grinned at the darkened slot, praying whoever was inside would get the hint, while his thoughts raced. Chickening out would have been demeaning, but being turned away at the door would leave him feeling completely defeated.

The sound of a small chuckle crept through the opening, making his hair stand on end. “Lemme guess - it’s your first time and you don’t know how this works?”

Keeping his eyes on his unseen judge, Mac gave a slow, steady nod. “E…eeyup.”

What couldn’t have been more than a few seconds dragged on for a small eternity, the door was unlocked and pulled open. Standing just inside, veiled in shadow, was a zebra stallion with a shaggy mop of dreadlocks for a mane, brilliant green eyes, and a physique that rivaled his own. While the Zebrican bouncer wasn’t quite as large as himself, that wasn’t saying much in the grand scheme of things - at the end of the day, the unnamed stud was still considerably larger than the average pony.

“Now that we got that out of the way, I got one more question,” the stallion grumbled, looking him up and down. “Are you here to have a drink and relax or are you here to have some fun?”

The question seemed innocent enough on a superficial level, yet Mac knew there was more to it. Blood rushed to his face, broke the zebra’s gaze, and he bashfully lifted a forehoof to rub the back of his neck. He wasn’t much of a talker, nor had he been for most of his adult life, so suddenly being expected to answer something so embarrassing made it nearly impossible to speak.

Stepping just outside, the Zebrican shook his head and smirked. “Judging from just how hard you’re blushing, I’m thinking you’re here for the fun stuff?”

“E…eeyup,” Mac stammered, unable to keep a quake from his voice.

“Since you’ll be putting that pretty mouth and luscious lips to better use shortly, you don’t have to say anything,” the stud guffawed, trotting around to clap him on the shoulder. “Come on, I’ll show you around the place.”

Seeing the zebra trot inside, Mac drew a deep breath, steeled his resolve, and crossed the threshold. Immediately upon entering, a number of things struck him. The interior was dark, dimly lit by a number of lanterns hung on the walls, an unfamiliar smell hung in the air, and the place was sparsely decorated. A bar at one side of a large chamber, a small number of tables and chairs, and two pool tables, yet he scarcely paid them any mind - not compared to whom lurked within.

No fewer than a dozen zebras lounged, drank, or quietly chatted with one another, and each of them eyed him as he trotted behind his guide. He weakly smiled and nodded to each of them in turn, though he only didn’t look at any of them for too long. Forcing himself to look at the floor, he followed along behind the dreadlocked stud and into a short corridor.

“This,” the zebra noted, turning to face him, “is your room.”

Mac peered at the closed door just beside him and pushed it open. He honestly hadn’t been sure of what to expect, having only read about such dens of depravity prior to that moment, yet the sight before him was as perverse as it was thrilling. Poking his head into what was effectively a stall, he started when his host thrust a forehoof to one wall.

“Even if you haven’t done this before, it should be obvious what that’s for,” the stud chuckled, pointing at a tape-lined hole. “And that,” he continued, swinging his hoof to the opposite side of the chamber, “if for if you’re feeling a bit more generous.”

Following the Zebrican’s foreleg, Mac gawked when he realized what the stallion had meant. There was a wooden panel large enough for a pony, even a pony as big as himself, to stuff their hindquarters though. He knew all about glory holes - heck, that was the entire reason he’d come to Manehattan, but he would never have guessed that there was something similar for getting rutted.

Stepping back and into the corridor, the zebra casually sauntered away. “If you want to clean yourself up when you’re finished, there’s a bathroom at the end of the hall.”

And with those final words, Mac was left to his own devices. This was what he’d pined for, the chance to do something exquisitely naughty without anypony knowing about it, yet the juncture left him with mixed feelings. His excitement warred with his apprehension and good sense, leaving him idling in the hallway for only a brief moment. Stepping inside and kicking the door closed behind himself, he sealed his fate before he changed his mind.

The glory hole to his left was broad enough to accommodate somepony even bigger than himself, being nearly as wide as his hoof, but the yawning opening on his right piqued his interest. There was a piece of what appeared to be plywood perfectly fitted in the wide, rump-shaped gap. Both amused and amazed that The Black Stripe was willing to let patrons get more than just lip service, he snickered to himself.

All in all, the chamber was almost completely vacant. With plastic flooring beneath his hooves, likely to make mopping up messes a trivial affair, he lowered his head and peeked through the smaller of the two holes. It was hard to imagine how a stallion could comfortably stick their length through such an opening, but his best guess was that there was a bar or something somepony could place their forehooves on. Trying to give himself a peek through to the other side, he stumbled back when he heard a door open.

“Hey,” a rich, deep voice grunted.

Feeling his mouth go dry, Mac attempted to swallow. He’d only been in the room for a minute or so, yet some intrepid soul had already deemed him worthy to give him a visit. As he struggled to think of something - anything to say, he was taken aback when the broad tip of a stallionhood slowly emerged before him.

“Gotta say,” they purred, “you’re pretty hot for a stallion. Bet that ass of yours can milk a cock for days.”

Mac peeked back at his ass, more flustered than ever. The first zebra had commented about his lips, and now he’d just gotten a very slatternly compliment about his tush! Briefly glancing at the hole at his back, only then realizing he was big enough to make use of his muzzle and behind at the same time, he felt his stallionhood slip from its sheath.

His attention swung back his admirer - rather the only part of his admirer that he could see. Long, thick, and covered in midnight-black flesh, the mere sight of the stallionhood made his backdoor twitch in anticipation. This - this was what he’d come for, what he’d been dreaming of, and now he’d finally get to appease his wanton desires.

The zebra shifted, his hooves clicking against something metal, before he spoke again. “So you gonna sit in there and look at it all night, sweet thing, or are you gonna put that cute little muzzle of yours to work…?”

Inching forward, prompted by the question, Mac caressed his cheek along the stud’s shaft. He hadn’t even considered his sense of smell, truth be told, but the heady aroma that flooded his sinuses hit him like a sack of bricks. Strong and exotic, the heady bouquet sent a thrilled shiver up his spine. Able to control himself no longer, he pressed his tongue past his lips and touched it to the fat medial ring on his suitor’s length.

The flavor of unwashed flesh, salty and earthy, bathed his palate. Until that moment, he’d only ever fantasized about what a zebra would taste like, but that was a thing of the past. Drawing his tongue down the drooping, weighty shaft, he seated himself, lifted a forehoof, and tenderly stroked the underside of the glorious stallionhood.

He wanted to take his time and savor the experience, although he didn’t want to risk upsetting the zebra - bearing that in mind, he dipped his head and brought his lips to the stud’s cock-head. While it was true that he didn’t have the slightest idea of who the Zebrican was, what he looked like, or even how old the stallion was, simply being able to gratify his carnal cravings was electrifying.

Nearly as big as his leg, pulsing slightly in tune with the stallion’s heart, the zebra’s dick was everything he’d hoped it would be. Though it was huge, nearly the same size as his biggest dildo, it was just pliable enough to make him tremble with excitement. Fellating or being fucked by something completely unyielding would be an onerous task, but that thankfully wouldn’t be a concern - in fact…

Closing his eyes and lowering his head, hunching down awkwardly, he made out with the tip of the zebra’s length. The sensation of velvety skin against his tongue and the fragrance tickling his nostrils would have been enough to spur him onward, but it was the sonorous, pleased hum from beyond the partition that abolished his reservations. Imagining it was none other than Shaka he was serving, he opened his jaw, leaned in, and worked the cock into his maw.

The months leading up to his trip to Manehattan hadn’t been wasted with fretting and attempts to quell his libido - no, he’d done everything he could to train himself for eventually being with a stallion. Filling his lungs as the shaft glided over his tongue, he bobbed his head. He may have gagged on his initial spontaneous attempt to throat a dildo, but that felt like a lifetime ago.

Shuffling forward and closer to the wall, he filled his muzzle. His forehoof stroked the lower portion of the zebra’s stallionhood, while his lips mopped the first few inches of saliva-slickened shaft. Leaving his turgid dick to twitch and leak against the floor beneath him, far more interested in serving his admirer, he came to a dead stop when a laugh crept to his ears.

“Really getting into it ~ huh?” the unseen stallion mused. “Go ahead and moan all you want, it gets me going.”

Setting upon the stud with renewed vigor, energized by the praise and his first salty taste of pre-cum, he groaned around the Zebrican’s cock. He hadn’t had the slightest clue he’d made any noise whatsoever, assuming he’d been completely silent, though he had all the same. If the patron wanted him to be loud, he could definitely oblige.

His efforts instantly bore fruit, prompting the stud to thrust forward. The plunge caught him off guard, making him gag for a split second, although it did nothing to deter him - if anything, all it did was turn him on even more. Bracing himself, he drove his head forward and forced the stallionhood into his gullet.

It wasn’t the first time he’d had something filling his throat, but the difference between a silicone toy and an actual dick was night and day. The taut confines of his esophagus spasmed, his eyes watered, and he fought the urge to cough, as he pushed his nose to the glory hole. To his pleasant surprise, the tip of his snout passed though the opening.

“That’s - Mmmph - impressive,” the zebra grunted, shifting slightly. “Hold still, I’m gonna rut your face.”

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, Mac braced himself and prepared for the assault. Sure enough, after only a second or two, the stallion started to buck. He wouldn’t have minded continuing to hungrily suck off the stud, but taking a more servile role felt right - like that’s what he was meant to do. He drew breath if and when he could, uncaring for the muted, choked noises he was making, while the zebra used his mouth.

The patron was everything he could have wanted and more, assertive and domineering to a fault, although his welling bliss came with a price. His pucker angrily winked and seized upon itself, yearning to be filled. In hindsight, he should have brought his saddlebags and one of his dildos with him - tragically, hindsight was twenty-twenty. With his forehoof free, he reached back to paw at his behind.

On and on the stud went, his plunges growing hasty and frantic, until he felt the bloated head of cock swelling in his throat. His forehoof shot to his neck, feeling the bulging flare and confirming his suspicions. The stallion was about to pump a load into him, he was about to earn a taste of Zebrican seed, and he couldn’t think of a time he’d been more excited.

The affair lasted a few minutes at most, from when the patron had come in and introduced himself, yet each second he spent in the stall was a little slice of paradise. Effectively administering a hoof-job while his snout was plowed, he staved off the temptation to touch himself. This was his place, submitting himself to bigger, more powerful stallions, and accepting that pushed him to the brink.

With a guttural snarl, doing his darndest to drive his hips through the partition, the stallion hilted and peaked. Mac’s eyes bulged as a sweltering heat coursed through the throbbing length and straight down his throat. Starved of air, sitting in a growing pool of his own pre-cum, he held steady and did what he could to ignore his burning lungs.

With a satisfied grunt, just as quickly as he’d begun, the stud hopped back and withdrew his softening length. The withdrawal was almost instantaneous, leaving Mac with an aching throat and only the smallest taste of jizz, but there was nothing he could do. Savoring the viscous vestiges of seed on his tongue, he licked his lips.

“Not too bad,” the stud huffed, sounding winded. “You gonna be back tomorrow?”

“E - Cough - e…eeeyup,” he weakly replied, his throat sore and voice hoarse.

Suddenly alone, Mac took stock of the situation. There was no way for him to tell if the anonymous stud had first checked the opposing stall, peeking in to see if an ass was eagerly waiting to be plowed, and he’d be willing to lay a few bits on the line that at least one of the other patrons would be eager to sink their dick into something other than a muzzle. Turning and prying the plywood from the opening behind him, he moved with a purpose.

He pushed himself up, slipped his lower half through the ass-shaped hole, and enthusiastically slid his muzzle into tape-lined orifice in front of him. He’d come this far, getting his face fucked by a perfect stranger, so he may as well get the full experience. Repositioning himself, he discovered the position he was in was far more comfortable than he’d initially thought it would be.

As he stood with his hindquarters stuffed through one opening and his snout another, his ears swiveled to the door. Unable to see anything but the wall ahead of him, he had to rely on his sense of hearing to tell if anypony was going to pay him a visit. The subtle sounds of chatter from outside and down the corridor let him know that the bar wasn’t vacant, but that was no guarantee he’d get any more action.

Tapping a forehoof, he tried and failed not to be impatient. Things would have been different if he’d gotten himself off with his admirer, giving him some relief, but he chose not to dwell on it. At worst, he’d slink back to his hotel room and ride one of his toys until he couldn’t stand up straight, so he wasn’t too concerned.

Musing on what he’d just done, with the cloying taste of a stranger’s nut coating his mouth, he stiffened when he heard a quartet - no, an octet moving in his direction. His one saving grace was that nopony could see the nervous sweat beading his brow, nor how deep his blush had become, as he opened his mouth and invitingly extended his tongue. Two doors creaked open, he could hear a pair of voices chuckling to themselves, and what could only be a hoof caressed his rump, filling him with overwhelming glee.

“She has got an ass on her,” one zebra boasted.

The other stud wasted no time, standing and bringing his stallionhood to Mac’s snout. “Well if she’s half the cock sucker Chuma claims she is, I think we’ll both be happy.”

Set upon by the duo, Mac was at a loss. As the stud behind him mounted him, feeling a pair of firm, strong hooves lock around his hips, a dick was crammed into his mouth. Despite himself, he whimpered and bucked back against his nameless lover, wanting - needing to be filled. In the blink of an eye, his wish was granted and his virginity surrendered.

He practically came as soon as a cock was buried in his behind, mewling and croaking around the stallionhood swabbing his gullet. The newcomers weren’t nearly as reserved as his first visitor, plowing him without the slightest bit of restraint - still, as unsettling as the development should have been, it drove him positively wild. It only took him a moment to collect himself and embrace his role, acting as a set of warm, welcoming holes for the zebras to satisfy their bestial urges.

Inexperienced though he was, he flung himself at duo with gusto. He rolled his hips back against one stud, rhythmically relaxing and clenching his stuffed hole, while his tongue lavished the stallionhood in his maw. His actions were impetuous and unrefined, motivated by little more than his sexual appetite, yet neither of his lovers seemed to mind.

“Nnnph - this bitch is thirsty,” the stud rutting his ass exclaimed. “She’s pushing back like a mare in heat!”

A harsh laugh rang in Mac’s ears, as the second stallion knocked on the wall. “If he cums before I do, I’m gonna breed your ass, slut.”

The proclamation was the nail in Mac’s coffin, casting him over the edge and into a tumultuous sea of ecstasy. His legs buckled, threatening to give way beneath him, while he painted the floor under him with his spunk. Feebly continuing to do everything in his power to get the duo off, he weathered his climax and forced himself to keep going.

He only knew a hoofful of ponies who were gay, including his own cousin, so he leaned heavily on his instincts and the articles he’d read. While some stallions preferred a completely submissive partner, the overwhelming majority supposedly liked when their mate took a more active role - in light of that alleged fact, he wasn’t about to throw in the towel. Coming down from his rapturous high, he slammed his ass into reverse to meet the stud’s thrusts.

Honestly, he couldn’t care less if he got another helping of foal-batter flowing down his throat - not after hearing what the zebra had said. Having a stallion cum from him sucking them off had been incredible beyond words, far better than he’d hoped it would be, so he couldn’t wait to be properly bred. With his mouth and behind full, barely able to move, he gave as good as he got.

The duo weren’t quite as well-endowed as the first zebra had been, even being smaller than his toys, but the size of their stallionhoods was overshadowed by their vehemence. They showed no concern for him, plowing his muzzle and ass like he was merely an object to be used, and he loved every second of their ferocity. Grunting and snarling, uncaring for his comfort, the pair gradually hastened their pace.

In a blissful haze, losing track of time, he moved like a machine. His first orgasm was eventually met by a second, sundering his concentration and almost making him collapse, but he somehow managed to stay on his hooves. Screwing him with reckless abandon and with seemingly endless endurance, he couldn’t tell how close either of the two was getting to their limit - that was until the stud hammering his backside roared.

With no warning whatsoever, the stallion behind him sheathed his length and came. Heat blossomed in his abdomen, as what felt like pints of seed surged into his depths. Stunned by the amazing sensation, shuddering to a halt, he yelped when the stud dismounted, hauled his spasming length free, and painted his ass with the final few shots of sweltering jizz.

“Guess that means you’re up,” the zebra croaked.

The stallion who’d been using Mac’s muzzle instantaneously withdrew, hopping back and cantering to the stall his companion had just left. There was no buildup, no grace or affection - the zebra simply took to fucking him like a crazed beast. With barely enough strength to stand, he fell still and listened to the sound of his battered ass slurping and squelching as he was mercilessly pounded.

Struggling to remain standing, feeling like the second zebra would last forever, he howled out when the stud pulled his dock and hilted him. He could feel spunk leaking out of his ass and down his balls, but the overwhelming majority of sweltering jizz was deposited far too deeply to escape. Biting his bottom lip when the stud pulled out and jumped free, all but literally cum-drunk, he peeked over his shoulder and at the wall when his ass was given what he supposed was a congratulatory slap.

What the zebra had done was anypony’s guess, but he was given no time to think about it. As one set of hooves trailed off into the distance, another set drew nearer. An exhausted smile graced his lips, he flagged his tail, and he summoned the strength to keep himself upright. Even if he had to crawl his way back to his hotel, he wasn’t going anywhere until everypony in the bar had gotten their fill…