Digging Deep

Contentedly humming to herself, Mac trotted into the kitchen and over to the stove. The house smelled of apple pie, her spirits were high, and there was a smile on her face - then again, there was nothing out of the ordinary about any of these things. Ever since she’d bitten the proverbial bullet and moved in with Shaka, confessing her love for him to her family, she’d taken to her life as a homemaker like a fish to water.

Gone were the days of working in the orchard, back-breaking labor, and ending her days exhausted and covered in sweat - well, for the most part. While most of her evenings did result in her being sweaty and tired, it wasn’t from anything she considered a chore. As she stopped and slipped an oven mitt on one hoof, she giggled and shook her head.

Shaka had always treated her well, but he’d practically placed her on a pedestal since she’d started living with him. It wasn’t uncommon for her big, loving stud to surprise her with jewelry, gorgeous outfits, or small tokens of appreciation - and that wasn’t taking into account the constant flattery and affection he lavished her with! For all intents and purposes, the old Big Mac no longer existed.

It hadn’t been a shock to realize that the potions her lover had been giving her had changed her, yet the full extent of her metamorphosis had been nothing short of jaw-dropping. She was no taller than an average mare, she had curves that could kill, and every ounce of masculinity had been stripped away from her. Until she’d met Shaka, she’d been like an ignorant caterpillar, unaware of what she was meant to be, but now she’d blossomed into a beautiful butterfly.

As she reached for the oven’s handle, she stifled a whimper and looked back at herself. As happy as she was with her body, having the ability to turn heads wherever she strutted, it was a bit of a double-edged sword. Nestled together in front of her plump, succulent thighs, her budding bosoms were inadvertently squeezed together.

Having a pair of breasts was a bit of a mixed bag and, like the rest of her, would take some time to fully adjust to. Her teats had started filling out almost a month prior, starting as nothing more than a bit of tenderness on her abdomen, yet in that short time they’d grown considerably. Heavy, soft, and incredibly sensitive, her tits were as fun as they were frustrating at times.

She readjusted her stance, spread her hind legs slightly, and pulled open the stove with a small, triumphant snort. Getting used to her body was an ongoing process. Though her strength, height, and her place in the world as a stallion were gone, the benefits of what she’d gained far outweighed the cost of what she’d lost. Peering into the oven and at the steaming pie that lay within, she drew a breath and was reminded of her home.

If there was one thing that had shocked her more than her eventual looks, it was how her family had taken the news about her lover. Granny, Applejack, and Apple Bloom hadn’t been upset with her, nor had they been shocked by what she’d assumed would be a stunning revelation about her and her romantic interests - no, they’d been elated for her. She should have known that her kin would figure out what was going on with her, that she’d actually been sneaking off to spend time with her coltfriend, yet she’d been dumbfounded when they’d all laughed and admitted to knowing what she’d been up to - heck, they’d even gone so far as to call in the help of a few cousins from Appleloosa to help with the fall harvest to give her some extra free time!

The icing cake about her family was that they hadn’t just accepted her - they’d started helping her. Apple Bloom did what she could to give her tips on how to act marish, Granny smith was teaching her how to cook, and Applejack - well, Applejack had been the one to pull in the extra muscle to keep the farm up and running. She’d always known that she had the best grandmother and sisters on the planet, but even she’d failed to fully realize how incredible they were.

Trotting across the kitchen, she made her way to the nearby window, sat the cobbler down to cool, and looked outside. The air was crisp and clean, she could just make out the sight of Ponyville through the treeline, and there were almost always songbirds singing softly within the Everfree. She’d had a few reservations about moving into the woods, yet her new home had really grown on her.

Lost to her thoughts, she yelped and wheeled around when something caressed her behind. She’d been so caught up with cooking and daydreaming that she must not have heard the front door open, allowing a startlingly sneaky somepony to sneak in on her. As she turned, spying the all too familiar figure of her mate looming over her, her fears evaporated in the blink of an eye.

“There she is,” Shaka murmured, grinning from ear to ear. Looking past her and to the cobbler resting on the sill, he nodded to the pastry. “Busy as ever, I see.”

“Eeeyup,” she proudly chirped.

As his eyes swung from the pastry to her flank, he stepped forward and pressed his chest against her face. “As tasty as that looks, I’d rather have something else for dessert…”

She swooned when he reached out with a foreleg and gave her flank a squeeze. She certainly wasn’t opposed to having a bit of fun before, after, or even during dinner - possibly all three. He could claim her wherever and whenever he wanted, even if that involved doing something risky like sneaking off to a public bathroom or the back of a theater, and he knew it. Lifting her head and kissing her way up his neck, barely able to reach his strong jawline, she breathed hotly on his ear.

His grip on her tush tightened and a small snort escaped him, before he paused and took a step back. “I’d enjoy a succulent little appetizer, but not now. We have company.”

Inching away and giving him a quizzical look, she glanced to the doorway that led to the living room. The only visitors they’d had since she’d moved in were her family and Zecora, so the news that they had guests came as a surprise. Her ears swiveled and she held her breath, suddenly detecting the sound of movement from behind her mate.

“It’s nothing to worry about, just two old friends of mine from Zebrica,” Shaka noted, brushing a lock of mane from her face. “Be a dear and put on something sexy,” he instructed, slowly turning away from her, “and feel free to make it especially enticing. It may be a bit cruel, but I’d like my companions to see how alluring ponies can be…”

Mac nodded, thrown off by his request, and watched as he trotted away and out of view. Shaka had mentioned having friends in Zebrica a number of times, telling her stories about how he’d get into mischief with them when he was younger, so she was elated to finally meet two of them. Removing her oven mitt and tossing it onto the counter, she took the second exit out of the kitchen and quietly rushed off to the bedroom.

While she wasn’t normally one to wear anything provocative around anypony other than her stud, preferring to present herself modestly around others, Shaka’s order had been absolute. As she trotted into her bedchamber and closed the door, her eyes shot over to her wardrobe. She had a number of garments that she’d consider sexy, but therein lay a problem - just how sexy was too sexy.

Opening the standing closet, she scrunched her snout. Donning a bikini wouldn’t be a bad idea, although that would be a bit nonsensical because of the cold weather - a cocktail skirt and a tube top could work, but that felt a bit too formal for a simple introduction. Looking from one article to the next, she was stricken with inspiration. There was one outfit she had that was particularly special, one that always got Shaka worked up, and she was absolutely sure it would make an impression on her Zebrican guests.

Getting into the ensemble was the easy part, having done so on a number of occasions in the past, but that was only the first step in her preparations. Since she was to be an example of how alluring ponies could be, there was no sense in cutting corners. Strolling over to her vanity, she anointed herself with some violet lipstick, a touch of blush, mascara, and a bit of eye shadow before brushing her mane.

Her attire was, in a word, slatternly. Garters, an accompanying belt, halter top, and fishnet, each a vivid amethyst, clung tightly to her frame. Each article was a size too small, digging into her supple flesh, but that was purely by design. She could easily be mistaken for a callmare or possibly an exotic dancer of some sort, the type of mare mothers warned their sons about, and she took no small amount of pride in her appearance.

She steadily turned and inspected herself from different angles, ensuring her attire was fitted and seated properly, then nodded in approval. There was no way to tell exactly who she was about to meet, she was about to give them an eyeful. Grinning and holding her head high, she opened the door to her room and strutted into the hallway.

“I think that’s her now,” Shaka remarked as she made her approach. “Mac, are you…” he fell silent when she sauntered up beside him.

Pressing herself to his side, she rubbed her neck on his shoulder and looked over at their visitors. Two zebra stallions lingered by the entryway, one with a mop of monochromatic dreadlocks covering his face and the other with a short mohawk, and both were a sight to behold. Though they may not have been as tall or muscular as Shaka, both of the studs were well-built and very easy on the eyes.

“Soke, Isalẹ, this is my the light of my life, Mac,” Shaka intoned, stepping aside and waving a hoof at her. “Mac, these are two of my oldest and most trusted friends, Soke,” he continued, nodding to the dreadlocked stallion, “and Isalẹ.”

Remaining where she was, she smiled and demurely waved at the pair. She’d heard of the duo before, recognizing them instantly, but it was an honor to finally put faces with their names. Looking back to her mate for guidance, unsure if he was expecting her to speak, she watched him step over to his recliner.

Shaka eased himself down and smirked over at his companions. “Isn’t she something?”

“She’s hot for a pony, I’ll give her that much,” Soke remarked.

Nodding in agreement, Isalẹ shuffled over and shamelessly eyed her side and flank. “Kind of small though.”

“She may be small, but she’s quite capable of handling herself,” Shaka laughed, leaning back and making himself comfortable. “That outfit she has on is one of my favorites.”

“I can see why,” Isalẹ chuckled.

Shifting in his seat, Shaka leaned forward. “It’s what you can’t see that’s impressive. Mac, sweetheart, give these fine stallions a little show for me.”

She faltered, if only for a fleeting moment, and glanced at his face. Little shows were what he endearingly called her seductive acts, like when she’d strip or try to tempt him with her body, so she had no doubt what he was referring to - still, he’d never once asked her to perform for anypony other than himself. Looking into his steely eyes, seeing his unwavering expression, she shifted her focus back to their guests.

Not wanting to displease her lover, yet reluctant all the same, she held up a hoof and rushed back to her room. Other than giving herself a minute or two to collect herself, she needed something to compliment her outfit - something she’d never worn out of the house. She stopped at her vanity, pulled open a drawer and thrust a hoof inside.

Reaching back, she giggled excitedly. Though she hadn’t confessed it to Shaka, she occasionally thought of all the lecherous things she’d do if she was single and the way she’d woo big, beefy stallions. The chances of her and her lover splitting ways were slim, especially since she served his every whim and did everything she could to make him happy, but there was nothing wrong with having the ability to charm studs.

With her tail wrapped, she spun around and peeked over her shoulder at the mirror. Sure enough, just as she’d planned, her curvaceous backside was put on full display. Shaka had a distinct fondness for her rump, often pinching or squeezing it when they walked past one another, so she was left to assume his friends would appreciate her greatest asset. As she trotted out, swinging her hips and causing her ass to sway from side to side, she fought the urge to hasten her pace.

“Ah - so that’s what you ran off for,” Shaka clucked, immediately noticing her bound tail.

“Eeeyup,” she cooed, strolling by him and shooting him a wink.

Buck it - as long as he was comfortable with her flaunting her stuff, she’d be happy to entertain their guests. She sashayed to the center of the room, gave the pair of zebras her best come hither look, and pursed her lips. While she wasn’t a dancer by any means, she had a few moves that may impress the duo.

As she turned and flipped her tail at her visitors, a thrill ran through her. Neither Isalẹ or Soke could see what lay nestled between her big, soft buns, but she was going to change that. Steadily lowering and touching her chest to the floor, she rested her weight on her shoulders, raised her waist, and swung her forelegs back. She didn’t know what the pair of studs knew about her or if she wasn’t a true she at all, they were going to find out very, very quickly.

She clutched her rump, prized her cheeks apart, and gave the zebras a view of the silken ring that was her pucker. One of the two stallions chuckled, presumably amused by the sight of her well-used, glistening hole, but she wasn’t done yet - shucks, she wasn’t even close. Listing over and softly falling to her side, she splayed her legs for the grand reveal.

“You really weren’t kidding,” Soke muttered, “I honestly thought she was a mare.”

“Oh she is,” Shaka corrected, smiling fondly at her. “Isn’t that right?”

Slipping one forehoof past her bosoms and to her groin, she rubbed her cage and nodded up at her mate. “Mmmhmm…”

There was something undeniably hot about being eyed up by a stallion, any stallion, so having three magnificent studs watching her writhe about and fondle her diminutive package kindled her lust like few things ever had. Rolling her head back and closing her eyes, she moaned as she fondled one teat. She tried to tell herself that she was merely putting on an act, doing what her lover had instructed her to do, yet her exhibitionism quickly got the best of her. Her backdoor seized upon itself, her clit grew moist with pre-cum, and her nipples grew hard, while her growing libido eclipsed what few reservations she had left.

“She tends to the house, is an impressive cook, and is far more docile than any Zebrican mare you’ve ever met,” Shaka boasted. “Frankly, I wouldn’t trade her for anything.”

Isalẹ snorted, prompting her to peek over at him. “But how good is she in bed? Looking and playing the part is fine, but there’s no way she could satisfy a stallion like an actual mare.”

“Not to brag, but she may be the best lay I’ve ever had -” Shaka rumbled, “in fact, I’d wager she’s better at tending to a stallion’s needs than most mares.”

Gazing down at Mac’s loins, Soke knit his brow. “Not that I’d ever question your tastes, Shaka, but I have a hard time believing you.”

Shaka shook his head and sighed. “Think about it for a moment. She knows - well, knew what it was like to be a stallion, so she knows how to please a stud in ways that a mare can’t fully comprehend ~ doesn’t she?”

“Eeeeyup,” she breathed, her cheeks glowing from his praise.

“I’ll just take your word for it,” Isalẹ grumbled.

“If you have any doubt about how wondrous she is, how about you - yes, both of you, find out for yourselves,” Shaka mused. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind proving me right.”

Staring up at her mate in disbelief, Mac found herself at a loss for words. She would never dare sleep with anypony other than Shaka, since he fulfilled all her needs, yet he’d just freely offered her to two of his friends like she was a plaything. Hearing the pair shift, she twisted her head and watched the duo steadily moving toward her.

Drawing his tongue over his lips, Soke was more interested in her goods than her face. “You make a compelling argument, Shaka, though I do hope she lives up to your lofty claims.”

“Indeed,” Isalẹ added, moving to and seating himself on the sofa. “Soke, bring her here.”

Mac rolled over, got her hooves under herself, and stood as the mohawked stallion reclined and made himself comfortable. There wasn’t a day that passed when she didn’t worship Shaka like the god he was, practically idolizing every part of him, so she knew just how to accommodate her guests. While neither Soke or Isalẹ were as attractive or titanic as her mate, she could use their smaller size to her advantage.

Trotting up to Soke, she drew her cheek up his inner thigh and brought her snout to his package; his stallionhood, though a touch smaller than Shaka’s, was still leagues bigger than her cock had been before her gradual transformation. Inhaling sharply through her nose, quivering as the scent of zebra musk tickled her sinuses, she groaned and began lapping at his large, plump balls. Regardless of if she was tending to her lover, it was only proper to start things out with a bit of oral.

She lifted her head and ran her tongue up the underside of his length, coating her palate in the earthy, salty flavor of his unwashed loins. Her heavily-lidded eyes stayed on his face, drinking in his pleased expression while she served him. Satisfying a stallion was an art, being a mixture of raw, sexual skill and theatrics, and she’d devoted herself to it almost fanatically. Reaching the tip of his shaft, she opened her maw, lolled out her tongue, and wrapped her lips around him.

Her ears turned back, listening to the stallion behind her, and she acted accordingly out of instinct. There were two stallions and one of her, although that didn’t mean she couldn’t ensure they both didn’t get some love. With Shaka sitting nearby, intently watching the scene unfold, she arched her back and braced her hind legs for the dreadlocked zebra.

Isalẹ’s taste in mares, be they ones like herself or not, was a complete mystery, but she presented herself for him all the same. If he wanted to feast on her ass or play with her coin purse, he would be more than welcome to - should he want to mount her and plow her on the spot, he could do so. Shaka had spoken highly of her carnal prowess and volunteered her to his friends, so it was duty to gratify the duo.

The sensation of something warm burying itself in the cleft of her ass, followed by the feeling of what could only be a tongue being dragged up her taint and to her hole, caused her to smile around Soke’s dick. She wouldn’t have asked to be rimmed - in fact, she wouldn’t have asked either of her visitors for anything whatsoever, but she was pleasantly surprised to be warmed up in such a fashion. Bucking back against one zebra’s face, while hungrily sucking off the other, she drove her head forward.

“She’s - Mmmmn…” Soke grunted, wincing as he slipped into her throat.

Mac didn’t gag in the slightest, her gullet having long ago become accustomed to taking something significantly larger than what the stallion had to offer, and continued taking inch after inch of cock into her muzzle. He may not have realized it, but she was about to crush any doubts he had about her amorous abilities. Lavishing the underside of his shaft with her tongue, she maintained eye contact until she reached his girthy medial ring, slowed for a fleeting second, then fully hilted him in her snout.

Pulling away and smacking his lips, Isalẹ softly slapped her rear. “Is she always like this?”

“Like what?” Shaka coolly countered. “Perhaps you didn’t understand me earlier. She’s always eager to please, keeps herself ready to be rutted at all times, and she’s not petty or catty in the slightest - honestly, I’m surprised neither of you have considered finding yourselves a cute little femcolt to train for yourselves.”

“I might after this,” Isalẹ snickered, reaching between her thighs and giving her package a small squeeze.

Continuing to bob her head, only periodically pulling back just enough to catch a periodic breath, Mac invitingly wiggled her tush. Being the focal point of three magnificent studs would have been enough to get her hot and bothered in and of itself, but being fawned over was putting a strain on her self-control. Pre-cum drooled from her cage and onto Isalẹ’s hoof, while her depths ached and yearned to be filled.

Mercifully for her, either because he was ready to move things along or he’d sensed how needy she was getting, Isalẹ mounted her and locked his forelegs over her hips. The stud’s weight against her back, paired with the stallionhood filling her throat, proved to be a disastrous combination. If she didn’t get fucked soon, she felt as though she’d go mad with lust.

Once Isalẹ was in position, Isalẹ wasted no time with plunging into her. She shuddered from her hooves to the top of her head, elated with the intimate feeling of fullness she’d grown to love. Relishing the moment, acquainting herself with the subtle differences between her guest’s and Shaka’s endowments, she was gave a choked whimper as a hoof clutched her mane and dragged her head forward.

“She doesn’t mind if we’re a bit rough ~ does she?” Soke asked, forcing her head forward and back.

“Not at all -” Shaka laughed, “if anything, I’d say she prefers being dominated.”

“Buck yeah,” Isalẹ growled.

In an instant, the tables were turned. Mac had started things slowly, testing the waters while doing what she could to excite the pair, but that time had come to an end. Pinned between the pair, with one stallion pounding her ass and the other using her snout like a sex- toy, she sputtered and choked around one dick while a second pistoned into and out of her rear.

It took her a few seconds to gather herself, fighting the compulsion to let them have their way with her, but she ultimately found the strength to reciprocate their vehement affection. Torquing her head from one side to the other, she applied vacuum around Soke’s tool on his backstrokes as she tightly gripped Isalẹ’s length. Dealing with either of the two alone would have been almost laughably easy, barely a challenge compared to her daily affairs, yet their combined might put her at a distinct disadvantage.

Isalẹ rutted her with reckless abandon, practically jackhammering her ass, while Soke bucked into her face. The weight upon her, the masculine scent in the air, and being spit-roasted by two gorgeous studs was amazing, driving her to the limit of what she could endure, yet she only crossed the threshold when she looked over to her mate. Remaining in his chair and languidly stroking himself off, Shaka smiled over at her.

She came in an instant, blowing her pitifully small, watery load to the floor as her body tensed. Being used by two stallions, even if neither was as well-endowed as her mate, was something she’d fantasized about since her visit to Manehattan, yet doing so with the approval of her lover made the experience all the more heavenly. Locking her legs to prevent herself from falling, she clamped her eyes shut and endured the rapturous onslaught.

The duo were utterly merciless, fucking her without a shred of concern for her well-being, and they drove her to another three climaxes before either of them finally slowed. Instinctively sucking Soke’s length as he withdrew, mopping saliva and pre-cum from his shaft, she shivered when Isalẹ dismounted and unsheathed his stallionhood from her. Neither of the studs had cum, despite going at her like a pair of lust-crazed youths, but she quickly found out why.

Looking to the side, she froze when she saw Shaka standing nearby with what looked like a small clay pot balanced in his hoof. Soke and Isalẹ knowingly snickered and moved away from her, leaving their turgid cocks to dangle beneath them, while her lover stepped closer. Worried that she may have done something wrong, that she might have displeased him in some unfathomable way, she silently turned to face her mate and hung her head.

“Hold your head up for me, darling,” Shaka firmly but lovingly stated.

Peeking up at him and seeing his warm, affectionate face, she couldn’t help but smile. Her guests moved to either side of her, Soke on her right and Isalẹ on her left, but she paid either of them any mind. She was Shaka’s mare, she had been for months, and her only regret was that she hadn’t met her titanic lover earlier in her life.

“I asked them to bring this from Zebrica,” Shaka explained, setting the pot down on the floor. Lifting a brush from the little vessel, revealing it was filled with a pitch black paint, he leaned in and pecked her on the nose. “With your blessing, I’d like to claim you as mine. You may not be a zebra in body, but I shall paint you and take you as my mare.”

With her jaw flapping mutely, tears formed in her eyes, and her heart beat wildly in her bosom, she somehow found the resolve to nod up at him. Though she wasn’t familiar with whatever ritual he was about to enact, she was overjoyed that he’d chosen to do something so sacred with her. With glacial speed, he stepped around her and began marking her body with dark stripes.

Starting at her face and moving down her neck, Shaka anointed her with stripes. The process of being painted was a slow one, taking several minutes, but it was surprisingly thorough. By the time he was finished, no part of her was left unanointed. Only once he’d finished and stepped away to appraise her work did she look back at herself.

The dark streaks across her carmine hide were delightfully exotic and she thought they looked quite nice on her. Cocking one hind leg and peeking down at her bust, she tittered when she spotted the designs he’d made on her bosoms and around her nipples. If ever there was a time when she felt like she’d fully committed herself to her mate, it was now.

“Now for the rest,” Shaka continued, seating himself on the floor before laying on his back. “Ride me and prove you’re mine.”

Seeing his pillar-like cock throbbing, untouched since that morning, Mac flung herself upon the stud. For all she cared, Isalẹ and Soke could wait for their turn and watch her consummate her love for Shaka. Practically scrambling over him and straddling him, she smoothly lowered her hips and impaled herself on him.

If there was one thing she didn’t have at that moment, it was restraint. Bouncing on him like a blushing bride on her wedding night, she wantonly fucked herself on him. Strands of drool hung from her chin, her breasts wobbled on her abdomen, and her caged clit and dainty coin purse flopped about uselessly at her groin, as she yielded to her passion.

Though she employed every skill in her lecherous arsenal to get him off, becoming an all but literal dervish, her hedonism came with a cost. The sensation of something prodding her stuffed hole, paired with an ominous chuckle, wasn’t enough to make her look back to see what was going on, but that wasn’t by choice. Coming around to face her, Isalẹ rose to his hind legs, placed his forehooves on her shoulders, pulled her forward, and jammed his cock into her mouth.

Riding Shaka while getting her face fucked was the ultimate test of her skill, yet the feeling of a second stallionhood being forced into her broke her entirely. The orgasm which struck her was apocalyptic, erasing any chance she had of maintaining control. With her vision filled with one zebra’s underbelly, while her mate and his friend double-penetrated her and utterly destroyed her backdoor.

“Hope we - Nnngh - don’t ruin her for you,” one of the stallions snarled.

“Even if you do, I have plans for her,” Shaka groaned.

She came over and over again, with one climax bleeding into another, as she slipped into a rapturous oblivion. Time lost all meaning, the world closed in around her, and her mind went blank, as she was reduced to a toy for the trio - even so, she delighted to be used in such a way by three amazing studs. A sliver of who and what she once was tried to warn her, to tell her that she would reach a point of depravity from which there was no return, but she dismissed it outright. Shaka would give her everything she needed, ensuring she never went without, and she trusted him implicitly - after all, she belonged to him.

As she faded in and out of consciousness, driven up and down and back and forth by the trio, her sense of reality grew distorted. The three may have been using her for seconds or hours - either way, she only came to when a torrent of spunk surged down her throat and into her stomach. Her lover and the other stallion railing her didn’t last much longer than the stud who’d been rutting her muzzle, growling and filling her depths with their combined seed.

Having one zebra pump a load into her was great, being spit-roasted by two was even better, but having three studs almost simultaneously using her like a sperm bank was enough to sunder her on an existential level. She couldn’t move, she could barely breathe, her sense of self was gone - all that was left was the blinding, all-consuming bliss of sinful indulgence. Her family, her friends, the town she’d grown up in - none of them mattered; as long as Shaka continued having a use for her, delivering to the rapturous gates of paradise, she’d willingly surrender everything and everypony she once held dear…