The guest

Shaka sighed as he slowly awoke from the first sleep in his new home, eyes flickering open and limbs reaching for the covers. It was a surprisingly difficult task just to get out of his bed, as the stallion had just experienced one of the best sleeps of his life. Though falling asleep had been difficult due to the constant anxiety brought on by possible discovery, Shaka rose rested and fulfilled.

Smacking his lips, the zebra pushed his way out of bed, used the washroom and quickly made himself presentable.

“Now then, how do I insert myself into breakfast?” Shaka murmured to himself as he trotted up the spiral staircase. “I suppose honesty is probably the best way to go as it's not like I have any food of my own.”

I have been alone for too long. I’m starting to talk to myself. Shaka thought. At least I have yet to answer myself. That would be embarrassing.

After locking the door shut behind him, the zebra proceeded into the bakery, entering through the unlocked back door. Once inside, he made his way up to the second floor, tapping a hoof on the wall of the stairs as he did so.

“Hello? Would you mind if I join you for breakfast. I don't have any groceries quite yet,” Shaka asked as he rounded the corner.

Mrs Cake was the first to appear, the mare looking just as tired as she had yesterday, only with a worse case of bed head this time around.

“Oh Shaka, of course you can join us. I hope you don't mind cereal or left over donuts though,” Mrs Cake warned.

Shaka smiled and shook his head. “I would be a poor guest indeed if I complained about food freely offered.”

“Quite right. Come in, come in,” Mrs Cake offered, stepping to the side.

Shaka peered into the room, immediately noticing the odd layout of the space which was a mix of kitchen, living room and dining room. It was a wide open space from which there was an odd door built into a circular section of white wall that Shaka assumed went up to the tower. A short hallway sat to his right, from which he could see four doors emerge from, where the zebra assumed Pound and Pumpkin slept.

Neither were present at the moment however, and Shaka quickly seated himself at the empty table before pulling up a bowl for himself.

“I’m sorry to intrude like this by the way,” Shaka began. “I usually relied on my garden until now.”

“Oh you garden as well?” Mrs Cake asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Of course. I couldn't very well survive only on what I scrounged up from the forest,” Shaka explained. “I mean I could have, but who would want to do that?”

“Zecora apparently did the same for a while there,” Mrs Cake remarked, sipping her coffee. “She even taught a class on it when Pound and Pumpkin were in high school.”

“Interesting. I have yet to meet this Zecora person despite apparently sharing my abode with her,” Shaka lied.

“Really? I assumed since…” Mrs Cake winced. “Oh my that must have sounded terrible uncouth of me.”

Shaka chuckled. “We are both zebras who stayed in the Everfree and apparently have a similar sense of style. I can see why you may assume we knew each other.”

Mrs Cake smiled gently. “Thank you dear. I admit I’m not at my best recently. Coffee seems to be about the only thing keeping me up most days.”

“Don't worry. I’ll make sure you have much more time to yourself,” Shaka declared softly before plunking a spoon into his bowl of oats.

“That would be something,” Mrs Cake murmured, her gaze becoming distant as she sipped her steaming beverage.

Shaka chewed and swallowed his food while he thought of what to say and how best to put it. He didn't want to push too strongly, but he also needed to lay down the groundwork for his future plans. Which meant he needed to cement a certain amount of paranoia early on in order to allow it time to grow and fester.

“Say,” Shaka began, glancing at the mare. “What would you do with a bunch of extra time anyway? Perhaps see your husband more often?”

Mrs Cake’s expression darkened momentarily before her smile quickly returned. “I would like to think so. Though I’m not sure if he would say the same if you asked him such a question.”

Shaka raised an eyebrow. “You think he's spending so much time away from home because of someone else? Fah. He would be a fool to squander the life you have built here.”

“I don't think that,” Mrs Cake hastily declared. “I just think he's… a bit of a workaholic. Ever since our kids have grown up he's really embraced our old idea of opening more locations.”

“That makes sense. You certainly seem busy enough to warrant an extra shop or two,” Shaka admitted, silently noting the way Mrs Cake replied so quickly, as if she had already had a similar conversation in the past.

“I just wish Pound and Pumpkin took the shop as seriously as their father does. Maybe then I wouldn't be run quite so ragged,” Mrs Cake murmured.

Shaka nodded quietly, making a note not to take things any further quite yet. After all he had gone far enough and didn't want to potentially push the mare away by continuing the topic. So he settled on simply eating, and occasionally talking about more normal topics like the weather, or the goings of Ponyville.

After a few minutes one of the doors opened to reveal a slightly nervous looking Pumpkin cake.

“Oh um is Mister Shaka joining us today?” She whispered in a low, awkward tone.

“He doesn't have any groceries of his own yet,” Mrs Cake explained.

Shaka nodded. “I’m afraid until I acquire my first pay cheque I won't be able to do so. Though I could return to my garden if necessary.”

“That won't be needed,” Mrs Cake quickly explained. “We have so much waste due to… reasons. That so long as you don't mind scarfing more baked goods then a bored cop you can eat as much as you would like.”

“That is most welcoming of you Mrs Cake,” Shaka replied, bowing his head slightly in deference. “I promise that as soon as I am paid I will treat you all to a traditional meal from my homeland.”

“Oh that sounds… nice,” murmured Pumpkin, who sat as far away from Shaka and her mother as possible.

“Pumpkin is a little picky,” Mrs Cake whispered.

“Mother!” Hissed the unicorn.

“No need to worry Pumpkin. I assure you, even a more Equestrian palette will find my cooking pleasant,” Shaka declared.

“OH? What did you have in mind?” Mrs Cake inquired, leaning in closer.

“Well I was thinking of making Jollof rice which I learned from a passing stranger, or perhaps bunny chow,” Shaka chuckled. “Don't let the name fool you, there is no meat in either of those dishes.”

“Fascinating,” Mrs Cake tapped her chin. “Perhaps we could add a few dishes from your home on a temporary basis and see how they go. The menu has been feeling rather stale lately.”

“I would be more than happy to help you spruce it up,” Shaka declared.

A low groan followed by the heavy footfalls of an approaching pony made everyone turn to where Pound Cake was trundling out of his room. The stallion had deep circles under his eyes, and his mane was an absolute mess which only half held up by gel. Trotting slowly into the room, the stallion turned away from the light before crumpling into a heap in one of the chairs and grabbing a donut.

“So... Late night?” Mrs Cake asked, disappointment clearly evident in her tone.

Pound Cake grunted, swallowed, and stuffed his face with a second partially stale pastry.

Pumpkin leaned towards her mother. “He was only back at one in the morning.”

“Augh I’m hungover, not deaf,” Pound Cake muttered bitterly.

Pumpkin Cake awkwardly shuffled away from her brother, shifting her chair closer to her mother while whispering a nervous ‘sorry’ under her breath.

“Lets not do this in front of our guest hmm?” Mrs Cake offered. “Well talk about this more later. Today you can help in the kitchen along with Shaka here.”

Pound Cake grunted miserably while he continued to chew on his breakfast.

“What do you think of the new expansion to Ponyville? It's getting awful close to the Everfree,” Shaka offered.

“I think it's scary,” whispered Pumpkin Cake while she nibbled on a bran muffin.

“It's ridiculous is what it is,” Mrs Cake declared. “I’m still old enough to remember when ponies would go missing in that forest all the time and-”

Shaka swept up the shattered remnants of a bowl broken an hour earlier which had been all but forgotten due to how busy they had become. The friday rush Mrs Cake had warned them of had certainly tested the zebra’s ability to stay on his hooves. Even the well muscled, and athletic stallion felt his body ache from just how much he had been forced to do.

It wouldn't have been quite as bad, but Pound Cake seemed more of a detriment then a help given his partially awake state. It got to the point that Shaka almost began to reconsider his plans for the young stallion only to quickly brush that thought aside. He would make the young stallion into an efficient, and proper young pony in no time at all, he just needed an opening to exploit or time to set the stage.

Across the room from him Pumpkin Cake worked to clean out an oven inside of which had been placed a plastic baking tray. The process of removing the now solid chunks of formerly melted plastic was difficult and Shaka did not envy her. Up front Shaka could hear Mrs Cake sweeping while off to the side Pound Cake chugged a large energy drink.

The stallion seemed to have bounced back from his unpleasant morning and was far more alert then he had been earlier in the day. He also seemed intent on eying the front door to the bakery, as if he once more expected company to arrive at any minute. Shaka noticed this all, and filed the information away for later exploitation, right now he just needed to get on his employer’s good side.

Filling the sink with water, Shaka began to add soap when he noticed Pumpkin Cake slump against a nearby counter. Her chest heaved, and though her eyes were barely visible Shaka could tell they were downcast. Not only that but she seemed angrier than he had seen her before, the mare’s shoulders and jaw tense with barely contained emotion.

“Hey are you alright?” Shaka gently inquired.

Pumpkin blinked, quickly hiding behind her mane. “Oh um yes. I was just disappointed about the whole bowl thing.”

Shaka glanced to the small mound of plastic the mare had managed to remove from the oven. “Ahh yes that was most certainly disappointing,” he admitted.

“I just wish Pound Cake would…” she gulped, glanced left and then right before leaning close to the zebra. “Care about things. I know I’m not the best and I can't talk to customers but I can't help but feel so…”

“Say no more,” Shaka interrupted. “You honor your mother with your diligence while your brother slacks off. It is only natural to experience a bit of anger.”

Pumpkin sighed. “I guess so.”

The zebra’s eyes lit up when he noticed a familiar shape moving by the front door. “Would you mind taking over for me? I have a feeling I will be needed up front in a moment.”

Pumpkin Cake blinked and glanced down to the full sink. “Oh um sure. I guess.”

Shaka didn't waste time replying, and merely trotted into the front where Pound Cake was still sweeping the same spot that he had been for the last five minutes. Off to the side sat Mrs Cake, the drawer of her cash register sitting to her right while a pile of receipts rested on her left. None of that mattered though, as it was the dark shapes assembling at the entrance which grabbed the zebra’s attention.

Despite the closed sign easily visible in the window, the three ponies pushed their way through the open door.

“Were clo- oh it's you three again,” Mrs Cake remarked in a disappointed and bitter tone.

The three ponies all wore a familiar leather jacket over their shoulders while also styling their hair with as much gel as Pound Cake usually used. They were also a good few years older than the young stallion, and carried themselves with the confidence Pound lacked. Two of the individuals were earth ponies while the last was a surprisingly tall unicorn who wore a cocky grin as easily as he did his coat.

“Well helloo to you too,” replied the unicorn with a smirk. “What I tell ya boys? The service around here blows.”

The two earth ponies snickered while Pound Cake eagerly pulled his own leather outerwear from the cubby where he had hidden it.

“Hey boss, what are you doing here?” Pound Cake asked as he pulled on his outfit.

“Yes, why are you here?” added Mrs Cake in a venomous tone.

“Were just here to speak to our newest member, is all. Isn't that right boys?” declared the unicorn.

“Uh huh,”

“Yup,”

“See? We didn't plan on making any trouble. Though if some came our way…” the unicorn trailed off as his gaze came to rest on the pile of bits sitting at the nearby table.

“No reason to go there,” Pound Cake quickly intervened. “What did you want to talk about anyway?”

“Just figured you may wish to join us for a drink tonight,” offered the unicorn with a smile. “Unless you have to ask your mother first.”

“No that's fine,” Pound Cake quickly replied.

Shaka glanced over to Mrs Cake who was fuming silently, her hooves pressed tightly together. Despite her blatant distaste for the three stallions she said nothing, though it was clear that she wanted to. She had also subtly dragged the register drawer closer, trying to obscure the amount of bits it contained.

Smart. Though I don't think it would matter. Shaka figured.

“But before we leave, I gotta take a look at the zebra you bought,” exclaimed the unicorn, who spun around and smirked at Shaka.

Who remained calm and impassive, merely extending a hoof in greeting. “Good afternoon. My name is Shaka, and you are?”

“I didn't know dishwashers had names. Go figure,” exclaimed the unicorn to the laughter of his goons.

“Good one Buck,” Pound Cake nervously remarked.

“Why wouldn't we have names?” Shaka replied, doing his best to act confused.

The unicorn blinked, only to erupt in even more laughter. “Oh I like this one. But the name’s Buck, Buck Private.”

Shaka glanced down to the pony’s flanks which were adorned by a pair of upside down Vs like the kind used to denote rank in the military. It was also the lowest rank in the equestrian armed forces, but Shaka pointedly didn't mention that and merely nodded dumbly, doing his best to act impressed.

“But you can just call me boss,” he added, clopping his hoof against Shaka’s with all the force he could muster.

Though it was clear that he was trying to intimidate the zebra, Shaka easily ignored the attempt and pretended as though nothing happened.

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” Shaka replied.

The unicorn seemed surprised for a moment before snickering and wrapping a hoof around Shaka’s shoulders. “You’re alright. Say. Why don't you come with us? I’m sure your boss would let you go early right? It is a friday after all.”

Shaka glanced at Mrs Cake expectantly. “Do you mind Mrs Cake?”

The older mare grit her teeth and slowly took a breath, a smile coming to her face a second later. “I suppose that's fine,” she muttered.

“Excellent!” declared Buck Private, who released Shaka from his grip. “Back to the bar boys, the first round’s on Pound Town!”

Pound Cake frowned briefly. “Err sure thing boss.”

“Atta boy, now come on, I can already feel my arteries clogging just standing around in this place,” Buck added, giving the store one more scowl before walking away.

His goons along with Pound Cake trotted out the door, though Shaka lingered just long enough to shoot Mrs Cake a wink. Which seemed to confuse the older pony, though Shaka didn't care one way or the other as he would explain later. Right now he just needed to keep playing the confused newbie who didn't know any better and the first step of his grand plan would be completed.

This is perfect. He thought with a smirk.

Shaka looked around at the strange rather rustic appearance of the establishment he had been sitting in for more than an hour at this point. A long line of booths sat across from the simple bar behind which was a giant wall of alcohol just waiting to be opened. A sign saying bits only hung in the center, next to a simple menu of drinks, all of which were incredibly cheap.

There were only a single set of windows that were at the far end of the place right next to the entrance. On the other side were a pair of bathrooms, three pool tables and a jukebox that looked older than Shaka himself. The floors were a checkered white and black that were so faded that it was mostly a uniform grey color.

Lighting was provided by many low hanging shaded light bulbs, allowing deep shadows to form everywhere. The seating was hard, and without cushion, leaving everyone to sit on bare oak. Noone seemed to mind, and even though it was still relatively early in the night the place sported a good number of patrons.

Most of whom seemed to be regulars or alcoholics considering that they were mostly seated by themselves. A single elderly mare with deep circles under her eyes walked from table to table taking orders while the burliest unicorn Shaka had ever seen sat behind the bar. The only other employee was a wiry young unicorn who sat near the entrance, inspecting everyone who entered.

The music wasn't bad thankfully, though the place reeked of spilled beer and rotgut whiskey. All in all it was not somewhere Shaka would normally choose to go, though they were at least generous with their booze. Even if the gin and tonic he ordered tasted mostly like dish detergent and lemon grass.

“Shaka?” asked a familiar voice.

The zebra turned to see that Pound Cake was standing next to the table, a curious look on his face. “I was going to go grab another round. What would you like?” he asked again.

“Just get him more of the same there Poundy,” Buck declared with a smirk. “And grab yourself something nice and fruity while you’re at it.”

Pound Cake shifted uncomfortably. “And more beer for everyone else?”

The table nodded, or otherwise agreed with the stallion.

“Okay I’ll be right back,” Pound Cake exclaimed.

The stallion barely turned around before Buck gave him a smack across the ass, causing his flanks to jiggle slightly. “Atta girl. Keep it up and I might just make you an official member tonight!”

“O-okay,” Pound Cake muttered before hastily trotting away.

“So where ya from Shaka?” Buck exclaimed, tipping back his drink and draining it.

“Nebura. It's a small village-” Shaka began.

“I don't actually care,” Buck interjected. “Say what do ya think of our newest member?”

Shaka glanced over to where Pound Cake was gathering the drink order at the bar. “He's nice,” Shaka replied.

“Cute too eh?” Buck added.

“If he wore his hair down he’d pass for a mare no problem,” added one of the other stallions.

“I ain't gay but I’d let him suck my dick,” declared another.

“Dude, thats totally gay,” pointed out a third.

“No way. Ain't nothing gay about getting your dick sucked,” intejected the second.

“I gotta agree with Silver Hammer here. Ain't nothing gay about getting your dick sucked. Hell if it makes you feel any better you can close your eyes and imagine it's his whore mother sucking you off,” Buck declared.

“That's even worse,” added another.

The table erupted with laughter, mostly covering the irritable growl that had begun to build in Shaka’s throat. The zebra stifled the sound by throwing back the last of his drink, his irritation quickly being replaced with disgust. Pound Cake returned a few seconds later a tray laden with drinks in one of his upturned forehooves.

“Alright, here we are and there,” Pound Cake offered, seating himself next to Shaka. “So what were you all talking about?”

Shaka sighed, and opened his mouth in order to change the subject only to be interrupted.

“We were talking about how ugly your mother is,” exclaimed one of the goons.

Pound Cake winced. “Yes she is rather… old.”

“I bet she's a bitch to work for too,” Buck offered.

Pound Cake sunk even further into his chair. “She can be kind of demanding.”

Shaka stewed silently, reminding himself to remain patient and wait for a better opportunity before interjecting.

“At least your sister’s kinda hot,” remarked another.

“How can you tell from under all that hair?” Buck asked, causing another round of laughter from the other stallions.

“She must have some horrible disfigurement though right? I mean what else could it be?” jabbed one of the stallions.

“She's just shy,” Pound Cake whispered.

“My bet is that one of her eyes is way bigger than the other,” Buck exclaimed, narrowing one eyeball while opening the other as wide as possible.

“That would be pretty weird,” admitted one of the stallions.

Shaka cast a curious glance to Pound Cake who had sunk as far into his seat as he could manage.

“It's no wonder their dad is off railing some Canterlot slut seven days a week,” Buck declared.

Pound Cake stood awkwardly and began to shuffle away.

“Hey where are you going?” Buck asked, turning to Pound Cake.

“I was just going to use the washroom?” Pound Cake whispered.

“And who said you could do that?” Buck retorted.

“Um, can I?” Pound Cake replied.

The unicorn rubbed his chin in a dramatic fashion, making a show of considering the other stallion’s question. “Of course, but before that why don't you suck me off hmm?” Buck replied, spreading one leg so it peeked out the side of the table.

“w-what?” Pound Cake muttered.

“You heard me. Thinking about plowing your sister got me all hot and bothered so why don't you suck my dick,” Buck stated.

“Still sounds gay to me,” muttered one of the other stallions.

“It ain't gay,” Buck exclaimed. “Now come on, get down on your knees and suck this fat cock of mine.”

Pound Cake hesitated, glancing beneath the table and then up to the curious stares of the other stallions. “I really don't want to,” he whispered, only to be ignored.

“Yeah and when your done you can shuffle one over and do me,” added another.

“Why don't you just stay down there for the rest of the night. Those lips of yours would be better put to use sucking dick then drinking those girly things,” stated a third.

“I-I don't-” Pound Cake gulped and seemed ready to agree only for Shaka to stand suddenly.

“You heard him, he doesn't want to do that,” Shaka declared.

“Oh come on. Don't be a spoilsport Shakes!” Buck exclaimed. “We’ll let you use him too, but you’ll have to go last.”

“He said he's not interested,” Shaka reiterated. “Come on Pound Cake let's go home.”

Pound Cake sputtered but ultimately allowed the zebra to move him away from the table. “O-okay,” he murmured.

“Hey come on man that's our entertainment your making off with!” shouted one of the stallions.

“Come on boss. Lets teach this striped loser a lesson,” added another.

Buck merely shook his head. “Don't worry about it boys. Pound Town will be back for more soon enough. Won't you girl?”

Pound Cake blushed and looked down, unable to meet the unicorn’s gaze.

“Come on. I’ll walk you back,” Shaka encouraged, gently guiding Pound Cake towards the door.

The demure stallion merely nodded and followed close behind Shaka as they made their way out of the bar. Now standing in the cool night air, the zebra gave his charge a quick look and noted the tears at the edge of Pound Cake’s eyes. His shoulders were also slumped, and he stared down at the ground unblinking, a blush remaining firmly plastered to his face.

Minutes passed with the pair walking in silence, Shaka leading from the front and Pound Cake following silently behind. So focused was the young pegasus that he didn't even notice when Shaka turned down an alley and led them away from prying eyes. Only when the light of the moon and the bite of the northerly wind vanished did Pound Cake look up to find Shaka staring down at him.

“Take off that jacket,” he commanded.

“W-what?” Pound Cake muttered.

“You aren't going back there again. Take off that jacket,” Shaka stated.

Pound Cake looked down at himself. “But I can't. They said they would know if I got rid of it.”

“They won't,” Shaka replied.

Pound Cake hesitated. “But what if I go back and don't have it?”

Shaka merely raised an eyebrow. “You would go back after they did that to you?”

Pound Cake sighed. “N-no. I shouldn't.”

“You won't,” Shaka repeated.

“But what if they hurt me? Buck’s dad is the police chief, and-” Pound Cake continued, growing more panicked by the second.

“I’ll protect you. Don't worry. Now-” Shaka extended a hoof. “Give me the jacket.”

Pound Cake hesitated one final time before reluctantly sighing and taking off the leather jacket. “H-here.”

Shaka took it, walked over to a dumpster and threw it in. “There.”

“Wait a second you can't do that!” Pound Cake pleaded.

“I already did,” Shaka replied simply.

“You can't just throw it out! Buck will kill me!” Pound Cake pleaded, trotting towards the dumpster.

He didn't make it very far however, as Shaka grabbed the smaller male and pinned him against the wall. “I know that look,” Shaka declared.

Pound Cake blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“That look you had back there at the bar,” Shaka explained. “The look you had when they demanded you give them all blow jobs.”

“I don't know what your talking about,” Pound Cake muttered.

“You were thinking about it,” Shaka exclaimed.

“I wasn't,” Pound Cake whispered.

“You were and if I hadn't stopped you’d be under that table right now,” Shaka pressed.

“I w-wouldn't,” Pound Cake replied in a soft tone.

“You would,” Shaka declared. “But that wouldn't have made you happy. Would it?”

Pound Cake remained silent, glancing over the zebra’s shoulder as tears built in the corner of his eyes.

“I thought so,” Shaka stated. “You want to be bullied. To be commanded, but you also want the respect and dignity that comes with being ordered around by someone who has your best interest at heart.”

“I…” Pound Cake bit his lip.

“You know what I’m saying is true. Don't you Pound Cake?” Shaka pressed.

Pound Cake inhaled another lungful of the zebra’s scent, unknowingly helping Shaka’s case. Already the young stallion could feel something hot begin to burn way down in his core, his cock beginning to harden for reasons he couldn't fully explain. Maybe it was how wonderful Shaka smelt, or maybe it was how domineering the zebra was, either way he was entranced.

“I do,” Pound Cake whispered, surprising even himself with his admission.

“Doesn't that feel good? To live authentically and to be true to yourself?” Shaka continued.

“It… it does,” Pound Cake replied, unconsciously leaning against the zebra for support.

Shaka ran a hoof down the pegasus’ side, smiling confidently to himself. “It's okay to want to give up control to someone else. It's okay to let others make decisions for you. Its okay for me to tell you what to do.”

“It's okay to let you take control,” Pound Cake finished, a hoof wrapping around Shaka’s midsection.

“You know why it's okay for you to serve me?” Shaka whispered into the stallion’s ear.

“N-no,” Pound Cake admitted.

“Because I will do what's best for you. I will make you experience pleasure the likes of which you have never dreamed of,” Shaka continued, nipping at the other stallion’s ear. “I will leave you a quivering, shaking mess of uncontrollable joy.”

Pound Cake shuddered as a moan slipped from his mouth, his entire body aching for the zebra holding him tightly. “Oh yes please,” he murmured.

“Gladly,” Shaka declared.

The zebra pulled back and mashed his lips against Pound Cake’s, pressing the smaller stallion’s head against the wall. Another moan slipped out of Pound Cake’s mouth, his hooves wrapping around Shaka’s midsection. The more dominant stallion pulled back a second later before pressing right back in.

This time Pound Cake couldn't help but relinquish control of his body, opening his mouth and allowing Shaka’s tongue entrance. The kiss was deep, but brief, leaving Pound Cake quivering and wanting nothing more than to feel the zebra’s embrace once more. Shaka however, only pressed forward for brief bursts, drawing out Pound Cake’s desire until he could barely contain himself.

His cock twitched needfully, trapped between their stomach’s while Shaka’s much larger appendage dangled between his legs. The soft touch that had ignited Pound Cake’s desire quickly became teasing, making him want more and giving him little. The tentative brush with Shaka’s tongue sent bolts of lighting down his spine yet never lingered for long.

“Mmmf,” Pound Cake murmured.

Shaka moved down and nipped at the other stallion’s neck. “Does my little pet have something to say?”

“P-please, m-more,” Pound Cake whispered.

“Oh do you want something?” Shaka continued, kissing up and down the nape of Pound Cake’s neck.

“I want you,” Pound Cake declared.

“You want this don't you?” Shaka asked, shifting his hips so his enormous shaft pressed against Pound Cake’s ass.

The young stallion gasped in surprise, startled by just how massive it was. “Yes. I want it,” Pound Cake replied, shocking himself with how bold of a declaration he was making.

“Suck it,” Shaka demanded, shifting back just enough to give Pound Cake the room he would need.

This time there was no hesitation, no regret and absolutely no shame as Pound Cake fell to his knees before the zebra. In an instant his every sense was occupied by the bobbing horse cock waiting mere inches from his muzzle. The scent of a more powerful, and more dominant male filled his nostrils, the faint taste of something salty lingering on his tongue. The thick appendage’s every twitch and movement was observed closely by the increasingly lusty young pegasus.

“Take it. Do what your heart demands of you,” Shaka encouraged.

Pound Cake didn't need any additional prompting, swiftly taking hold of the mottled black and white cock before opening his maw wide. Though a small part of him wanted to lick and worship the stallion’s cock affectionately, Pound Cake couldn't resist the temptation anymore. He needed it inside of him, and he didn't care what hole Shaka filled, only that Pound Cake took as much of it as possible as quickly as he could manage.

His jaw creaked as he desperately wrapped his lips around Shaka’s length, yet the young pegasus didn't give up. Only when the enormously thick head of the zebra’s cock was in his mouth did Pound Cake feel his urges begin to let up. That was until he tasted Shaka’s cock for the first time, then those same desires returned tenfold.

With Pound Cake’s mind now clouded by an almost overwhelming amount of lust, the young pegasus found himself totally focused on his partner. All thoughts of the embarrassing event that had occurred only a few minutes ago was gone, as were his worries about the zebra. There was only a white hot need which burned in his chest, demanding him to service the creature before him to the best of his abilities.

And so he did, reaching out with uncoordinated, and inexperienced hooves, Pound Cake pulled the other stallion forward. Inch after throbbing inch slid into the pegasus’, until finally the midring bumped into his lips, startling him out of his trance. It was only then that he realized he had swallowed over eight inches of cock and still had a lot more to go.

Shaka noticed his partner’s panic and pulled back slightly, his dick slipping out of the other stallion’s throat but not his mouth. With space to breath, Pound Cake quickly stopped panicking and refocused himself once more, this time more mindful of his partner’s size. So when he dove back down a second time, the stallion paid closer attention to the amount of air he had left in his lungs.

Watching the pegasus work his cock so expertly made Shaka grin excitedly, and a deep primal part of him to demand that he take Pound Cake at that very moment. Stifling that urge was hard to do, but ultimately necessary, as it was still too soon to move so quickly. Shaka had to lay the groundwork and plant a metaphorical as well as literal seed in the stallion before the zebra’s plan could truly bear fruit.

Until then he would simply have to enjoy the feeling of a slutty young stallion slobbering all over his cock.

A gasp followed by a sharp intake of air drew Shaka’s attention down to where Pound Cake had popped off the end of the zebra’s cock. Though his inexperience was certainly making the event not quite as enjoyable as it could be, Pound Cake’s incredible desire made up for any failings. For even when Pound Cake screwed up, it was due to his goals overreaching his ability, which was easily forgiven in Shaka’s mind.

Who didn't even mind the fact that he was getting a blowjob in some dank alley and probably being watched by a pony or two. Pound Cake on the other hand was so focused that he likely didn't even notice his surroundings. He just kept bobbing his head on Shaka’s cock, swallowing the zebra’s dick and taking it as deep as he could manage.

It was a difficult process, and Pound Cake gagged more than a few times during his descent to the bottom of Shaka’s appendage. Yet no matter how hard he struggled and failed, the stallion just kept going, a manic energy driving him ever onward. Over and over he pushed forward only to inevitably end up stifled by his own poor experience, but that didn't matter to him.

Watching the young pegasus debase himself so thoroughly was almost better than feeling that same stallion’s tight throat wrap around Shaka’s cock. Indeed there was an almost primal thrill to making the pony serve him in such a physically demanding way. In time Shaka was even surprised to feel a very powerful surge of pleasure begin to well from way down inside of him.

“Thats a good boy. Keep it up and I’ll reward you properly,” Shaka purred.

Pound Cake looked up at him, his eyes watering slightly as he struggled to stay so far down Shaka’s cock. Within the young pegasus’ expression was a longing so powerful Shaka couldn't help but feel a little proud.

Truly the seed had been sown, and now all that was left was to water it properly in order to make it grow. Though to get there he would need to take things into his own hooves for a few moments at least. A shift Shaka was certain Pound Cake would enjoy almost as much as he would.

“Deep breath now. I’ll be taking it from here,” Shaka exclaimed.

Though it was clear Pound Cake wasn't sure what Shaka meant, he quickly nodded, giving permission for the zebra to have his way with him.

Seeing this, Shaka quickly reached down and grabbed hold of Pound Cake’s head with both of his forehooves. He then pulled out just a little more, allowing the young pegasus to fill his lungs with oxygen before Shaka stuffed his throat with dick. Which he did only a moment later, his hips lurching forward and forcing his member deep into Pound Cake’s throat.

The pegasus couldn't help but moan whorishly as he laid there limply, merely allowing his body to be used by the powerful male. And use certainly was the correct description of what happened, as Shaka quickly began to thrust in and out of the pony’s mouth. Spit dribbled down Pound Cake’s chin as tears trickled down his cheeks which puffed out occasionally as he gulped down what little air he could.

Shaka pulled the stallion forward, shifting the pegasus’ body and allowing the zebra to drive his cock straight down Pound Cake’s throat. Each thrust made the other stallion’s neck bulge as Shaka’s monster cock plowed deeper and deeper. A few seconds later and his midring had slipped past Pound Cake’s lips, signalling that there wasn't a lot of dick left to swallow.

Pound Cake himself seemed to have adapted quickly as well, gulping air whenever possible and absolutely reveling in the experience. His throat ached, but despite the discomfort he didn't utter a word, merely laying against the cold stone wall. His cock even twitched whenever Shaka’s thrust ended, Pound Cake’s body instinctively yielding to the more powerful male.

Over time Pound Cake even felt his orgasm begin to grow closer, the feeling becoming more powerful the nearer he got to the zebra’s crotch. Then he made it, with Pound Cake’s nose pressing firmly against Shaka’s fur, the zebra’s balls resting on the pegasus’ chin. The sensations which coursed through Pound Cake’s body were unlike anything the young pegasus had ever experienced.

It was like completing a really hard puzzle, coupled with jacking off and performing a particularly difficult aerial trick. It was joy, it was a revelation, it was everything the stallion could have ever dreamed of. It also went a long way to making him trust the zebra who had dominated him in such a raw, physical manner.

So powerful was this emotion that the pegasus barely even noticed his own orgasm even as it splattered all over his chest. Though he certainly noticed Shaka’s as the zebra came so hard and so forcefully that there was no way to ignore it. The first spurt easily outdid Pound Cake’s entire eruption, and landed in Pound Cake’s nearly empty stomach with an audible splorch.

The second was the same as the first, as were the next twenty nine that came right after. Throughout it all Pound Cake lay there limply, his body twitching each time another healthy dollop of zebra jizz landed in his belly. Each dull thump felt like a nail in the coffin that was Pound Cake’s heterosexuality, though in the end it wasn't quite gone completely.

He still felt some lingering desire for the opposite sex, though it was clear that the pegasus was not straight. This realization came at about the same time that his lungs began to burn, and his pleasure was slowly losing out to his panic. Shaka didn't let this feeling consume his young lover though and the zebra pulled back just when Pound Cake began to truly worry.

Pound Cake gasped several times, filling his senses with the heavy aroma of his lover’s cum. Inadvertently making some of it dribble out of the sides of his mouth and land on his already jizz covered chest. After the panic was defeated, Pound Cake immediately got to work slurping and licking away at the head of Shaka’s cock.

Gobbling down every last bit of wayward sperm, Pound Cake slowly came to realize the situation he was in. He was cold, his stomach and chest were covered in both his and Shaka’s cum, and they were in the middle of an alley. Not only that but it was getting late, and Pound Cake had no idea how long he had been sucking dick and moaning like a whore.

“Just realized where you were didn't you?” Shaka replied. “Don't worry. Just finish cleaning me up and I’ll get you home safe and sound.”

Pound Cake nodded before quickly swirling his tongue around the zebra’s tip and swallowing the last remnants of Shaka’s orgasm. With that done, he pulled back, and was about to let the zebra’s cock slip from his mouth when a moment of hesitation struck him. All of a sudden he couldn't help but wonder what this meant for himself, his sexuality and the gang he had been so desperate to join.

Then he inhaled another lungful of potent zebra musk and those worries didn't seem so pressing.

“W-was I good?” Pound Cake inquired, gently allowing Shaka’s cock to fall between the zebra’s legs.

“For your level of experience? You were amazing,” Shaka replied, helping the pegasus stand on shaky hooves.

“I- whoah that's a lot…” Pound Cake murmured, noticing the way his belly sloshed when he stood up, a hoof going down to his slightly rounded stomach.

“Is it too much for you?” Shaka gently inquired.

“No!” Pound Cake replied. “I mean no. I can handle it.”

Shaka chuckled, and bumped the other stallion with his shoulder. “Then come on. I’ll let you clean up in the basement so you don't have to worry about anyone seeing you like that.”

Pound Cake sighed, and leaned against the zebra as they walked out of the alley. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

“Anything for my family,” Shaka whispered.