Amplified

Citi honestly couldn’t say what he’d expected, after his impromptu and wholly unplanned meeting with Vinyl, but it sure wasn’t waking up to a series of texts. Once he’d gotten back to his hotel room, having helped himself to a quick shower, he’d collapsed in bed. The following morning, he’d awoken to discover no fewer than ten messages from the bedicked DJ. Most of the texts were her pestering him or berating him about his lackluster oral skills, but it was the last one which really caught his eye.

Be at my room before twelve if you ever want to choke yourself on my fat cock again…

It went without saying that he hastily got dressed, ran downstairs, and hopped into his car. Truth be told, the night before, while a bit shocking, had been insanely hot. Once he’d gotten back to his hotel, he’d gotten off twice to the thought of her, once in the shower and once in bed, so the prospect of getting more time with her sent blood rushing to his loins. Getting breakfast could wait, going to visit the local aquarium could wait - for the time being, he needed to attend to his Mistress.

His drive through town was uneventful, even if it did take longer than expected; what was supposed to be a fifteen minute commute had nearly taken an hour because of the traffic. Using the same parking garage he’d used yesterday, coughing up another fifteen bits to the grumpy mare manning the booth, he jogged to and into Vinyl’s hotel. Excited as he was to see her again, he couldn’t help but wonder why she’d summoned him so early; nevertheless, it didn’t take him long to find her room and, before he knew it, he was standing at her door.

“Vinyl?” he announced, rapping on the entrance. “I got your texts and I -”

“Fucking took you long enough,” the colossal mare growled, throwing the door open. “You were supposed to come running right when you got the message.”

Wearing a tank top and a pair of boxers, the mare was just as big and imposing as he remembered. Looking her over, basking in her splendor, his eyes almost instantly settled on her groin. Spying her barely concealed package would have been provocative enough, but he got to see much more than that. Dangling out of her shorts and resting against her thigh was her mammoth stallionhood.

Nonplussed and more than a little anxious, Citi shied away. “But I was asleep,” he explained, producing his phone. “Then I got stuck in traffic and-”

“Listen up,” she interrupted, clapping one meaty hand on his shoulder. “If you want to be my bitch, you will come running when I call. If I say jump, you say ‘how high’. When I tell you to suck my cock, you drop to your knees. It’s really not that hard to understand…”

“I...I’m sorry,” he sputtered, finding it immediately difficult to look her in the eye. Peeking up at her, hoping he hadn’t fucked up too badly, he noticed the corner of her mouth turn up.

“I saw where you were looking,” she chuckled, nodding down her chest. “Go ahead,” she continued, lightly bucking her hips, “keep on staring, fag, it’s not like you’ll be doing yourself any favors.”

“Huh?” he grunted, knitting his brow. “Favors?”

Shaking her head, Vinyl lazily turned around and traipsed back into her room. “Come on in and get comfy, I got some good news for you.”

Citi wasn’t sure what he was most confused by - the fact that she’d casually greeted him in a state of undress, that she’d expected him to drop everything and come running, or that she supposedly had some good news for him. Regardless of what she was planning, he couldn’t help himself from following her. Trotting into the suite, he closed the door behind himself.

“Ok, so…” she began, moving by the dresser and picking up a box of cold pizza, “about that good news.” Reaching the corner of the room, with the leftovers in her hand, she seated herself in a recliner by her turntable. “You’re going to be my new squeeze,” she flippantly remarked, before sinking her teeth into a slice of pie.

“Your squeeze?” he parroted, only vaguely familiar with the term. “You mean like your coltfriend?”

His question apparently struck a chord with her, causing her to nearly choke on her pizza. Laughing to herself, reaching for an open soda she had sitting nearby, she sent flecks of cheese and crust sailing to the floor. “Holy shit, you can’t joke like that when I’m eating! Fucking coltfriend, you gotta be colt to be a coltfriend,” she wheezed.

“Then what are you -” he cut himself off, seeing her raise a finger.

“You’d be my squeeze, my slam-piece, travel-ass; call it whatever you like, you’d basically be part of the crew,” she explained. Seeing him fidget by the door, she motioned to the bed. “And sit your dumb ass down. Standing there like you don’t have a cum-drunk brain in your head - Jeez.”

Doing as asked, Citi strolled over to the mattress and seated himself. “So, wait, you’d want to have me around just for sex?”

“If you can call it that, yeah,” she grunted, finishing one slice and fishing for a second. “Considering how piss poor you were last night, it’d take a while to get you half-decent in bed - that being said, I think you have potential.”

“Really?” he bleated, his joy eclipsing the insult she’d just leveled at him.

“Mmmhmm,” she hummed, chewing and swallowing another bite. “I’m willing to bet you’d be a top-tier slut in no time flat - that is, so long as you do everything I tell you.”

Citi didn’t know what to say. After all his years of pining after Vinyl, he’d not only gotten the chance to sleep with her - well, get his throat swabbed by her - but she wanted to take him along on her tour! It was a damn compelling offer, being able to be around her practically all of the time, although it would be easier said than done. Dreams are all well and good, until you remember to account for reality.

While his life wasn’t the best, he had a decent thing going. He had a little apartment for himself, he’d just gotten a raise at his job, and he had a cat back home. Even if he wanted to take her up on the offer, which he very much did, the thought of simply abandoning everything he had was ludicrous.

“As much as I’d like to, I don’t think that’s possible,” he sighed, hanging his head. “Don’t get me wrong, it would be super fun, but I can’t just-”

“Can’t what,” she guffawed. “Can’t quit your shitty job? Can’t leave your crummy little apartment? Can’t ditch your marefriend? Wait, do you have a marefriend?”

“N...no,” Citi sullenly responded, keeping his eyes on the carpet.

“Damn, and here I was thinking I get to fuck her in front of you. Listen, fuck all that other stuff. You’ll have food, a bed, and as much mare-meat as you could want,” she snickered, brazenly fondling her package. “Hell, more mare-meat than you could want.”

“I don’t know…” he groaned.

“Well,” she grunted, unseating herself and striding before him. “For starters - I wasn’t asking you, I was telling you. A bitch like you is a diamond in the rough. Trust me, once I’m done with sprucing you up, you’ll be turning heads and popping boners wherever you go.”

The comment, while flattering, elicited a question he’d had since he met her - could he even call himself straight anymore? It wasn’t like he’d ever thought about cocks much, but his time with her had evoked an existential crisis like no other. As soon as he’d seen her prodigious tool, he’d thought about little else.

Shifting his thighs together, realizing all too well that he’d grown partially erect hearing her offer, he slowly shook his head. “I...I don’t know.”

Shrewdly rubbing her chin, as a devilish smile split her muzzle, she wheeled around and faced away. Without saying a word, she leaned forward, hitched her thumbs over her boxers, and pulled her underwear down her legs. Mouth agape, eyeing the succulent nuts and well toned ass of his host, all Citi could do was stare in open awe - that was until she started backing up.

Before he could do anything whatsoever, his face hovered mere inches from her fat, swollen nuts; the sight alone was compelling enough, but the smell - sweet, merciful Celestia - the smell was godly. Breathing heavily, drawing in her scent, his face drifted towards her musky taint. It was as if his body was acting on autopilot, bringing him to the fragrant nexus of the divine bouquet.

“Zero to faggot, just like that,” she purred, reaching back and flicking his painfully erect prick. Straightening up, just as quickly as she’d put on the debaucherous display, she peeked over her shoulder at him. “There’s an outfit for you in that bag,” she intoned, nodding towards a small, ornate package in the corner, “go clean yourself - all of yourself - then get changed and come back in here. If you really want to turn me down, fine, but you’ll eventually regret it.”

Citi peered over at the parcel, wondering what it held. Between his curiosity regarding what sort of outfit she’d procured for him, the possibility of sating his budding carnal urges, and her unabashed promise of using him as her personal cum-dumpster, his impulses seized the wheel. Nodding, taking care not to meet her gaze, he walked over, retrieved the package, and saw himself into the restroom.

Locking himself in the bathroom and giving himself some modicum of privacy, he pressed his back against the door and peeked into the bag. The first thing to strike his eye was a box of hygiene products, which helped explain what Vinyl had meant when she’d mentioned cleaning all of himself; neatly folded beneath the cleaning supplies, he discovered his mandated attire.

A very small tube top, pair of leggings, and an exceedingly short, pleated skirt awaited him. All the garments matched, being a vibrant pink, but that wasn’t the biggest issue - there wasn’t a single article of underwear to be seen. He wouldn’t have been surprised to find a pair of sheer panties or a lacy thong, but it appeared as though his host expected him to go without knickers.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t immeasurably excited - not just because Vinyl expected him to dress up like a mare, but because he knew full well what it meant. Without a doubt, the well-hung dickmare had every intention of amusing herself with him, and the thought drove him wild. The realization eclipsed his fears and inexperience, stoking the lustful inferno blazing within him.

Though it was a bit awkward, he managed to thoroughly wash himself - all of himself - in less than half an hour. It felt a bit odd, getting himself prepped for the awaiting dickmare, but he managed the task without too much trouble. After he’d toweled himself off and donned the slatternly apparel, he appraised himself in the mirror.

Were it not for the shameless erection peeking out from under his skirt, he could have been mistaken for a mare - albeit a decidedly flat chested one. The skin-tight top clung to his torso, showing off his perky nipples, while the leggings pinched into the supple flesh of his upper thighs. He felt a bit silly wearing such a getup, but there was a certain thrill in the taboo of it all.

“The fuck are you even doing in there?” Vinyl blared, causing him to start. “Did you fall in the shitter or something?”

Closing his eyes and slowly exhaling, doing his level best to relax, he turned towards the door. He’d gone this far, having put on the slutty outfit and prepared with the cleaning supplies he’d been given, so there was no sense in delaying the inevitable. Moving to the door, leaving his garments in a pile in the corner, he timidly peeked out into the bedroom.

Wherever Vinyl was, she wasn’t in her seat. Taking a step out of the restroom and into the tiny foyer, Citi slowly pressed onward. He didn’t think she would leave, especially since she was the one who’d asked him to change, although he had taken a little while to get ready. As the bed, and the figure atop it, came into view, he slowed.

Laying on her back, naked from the waist down, the DJ lounged and watched the television. He couldn’t say he was surprised that she’d ditched her underwear, although the unfettered view of her equipment was just as awe inspiring as ever. Noticing his approach, she waved him over and nodded down at her package.

“And here I thought you were taking a nap in there,” she grumbled, eyeing him from top to bottom. “Oh yeah, pink definitely suits you better than the shitty t-shirt and shorts you wore.”

“I - um…” he falteringly griped, pulling his skirt down in an impossible attempt to cover his boner. “I’m surprised you didn’t give me anything to wear under this…”

“I like my bitches easy-access - besides, it’s not like you’ll have to worry about touching that pathetic little prick,” she clucked. “Now get over here and get to work. I’m sitting on nearly twelve hours worth of premium quality foal-batter for you,” she added, reaching down and obscenely fondling her prodigious balls.

Hungrily licking his lips, unable to look away from the cantaloupe sized nuts between her thighs, he crept over to the bed. He’d learned full well just how productive the dickmare could be, but it was still surprising to hear she was in need of relief; after the load she’d force-fed him the night prior, he would have thought she’d be running on empty for at least a day. Crawling onto the mattress, while she courteously spread her legs for him, he inched towards her groin.

As he buried his snout in her weighty balls, she quietly groaned above him. “You can play with them for now. I don’t mind having my nuts played with, but I gotta train you how to service this dick,” she grumbled, smacking his face with her tool.

Eager to please, thankful that she would allow him to worship her testes, he kissed and huffed the twin orbs. Gently pawing at her, flooding the sinuses with her musk, shivers of excitement ran up his spine. How anyone couldn’t bend a knee and praise her heavenly body was beyond him, making him all the more appreciative that she’d chosen him to be an outlet for her sexual frustrations. Gradually working his way upwards, he rubbed his muzzle against the fragrant, sweaty folds of her sheath.

“There ya go,” she purred, affectionately running her fingers through his hair, “there’s a good mare.”

Citi’s heart skipped a beat, hearing the demeaning and emasculating word. Not but two days ago, had someone told him he’d be turned on by such an insult, he would have laughed; now, with his tongue running over the biggest dick he’d ever seen, he couldn’t help but be turned on by the jab. Coating his taste buds with the salty, somewhat bitter flavors of her package, realizing she hadn’t showered since their last meeting, he lazily worked his way up her hardening shaft.

“That’s right, get her nice and lubed up - you’re going to need it,” Vinyl darkly snickered, watching the crossdressing stallion reach the tip of her length.

“You...you mean…” Citi stammered, both elated and terrified with the implications of her statement.

“Damn right I am! I’m gonna breed that tight little cunt you have, until you’re squealing like a filly on prom night,” she laughed, playfully bucking her hips to accentuate the point.

Though some part of him hated to pump the brakes, the logical part of his mind screamed at him to speak up. Closing his eyes and scrunching his snout, he turned his head. “I’ve never…” he couldn’t finish, too embarrassed to admit that he was completely inexperienced with any sort of anal experience.

“You’re shitting me, right?” she scoffed, causing him to shake his head. “For fuck’s sake, I have to do everything myself,” she blared, pointing to a nearby suitcase. “There’s a bottle of lube in there with a blue label. Go get it, slick me up, then fuck yourself on me,” she commanded, her harsh tone removing any doubt about how serious she was.

As he sprung from the mattress and scampered over to her luggage, Citi knew better than to question her. He wouldn’t be too shocked if she’d fuck him with or without the lube, so he was actually grateful that she was willing to briefly pause for him. Finding the bottle, he squirted a generous portion into his palm and smeared it into the cleft of his ass.

“Well,” she grunted, pinching the bridge of her snout, “if nothing else, at least I’ll make sure you’re trained right. Just don’t be pissed if regular stallions won’t ever be able to satisfy you, after I’ve broken you in.” Holding the base of her tool, while the femcolt slathered the gooey gel over her cock, she grinned down at him. “Before you know it, you’ll be begging to ride my bitch-breaker!”

Citi dumbly nodded, only then realizing how insane he must have been. He couldn’t even wrap his fingers all the way around her cock, yet she expected him to fuck himself on the monumental pillar of mare-meat. Besides the jaw dropping girth, she was longer than his forearm - still, as terrifyingly endowed as she was, he’d never been more worked up before. As he finished coating her length in the slick substance, he discarded the bottle and started to move.

Crawling on his hands and knees, he swung one leg over her abdomen. Difference in their endowment aside, she was absolutely massive. His head barely reached her tits, while his rump hovered over the towering stallionhood she sported. He swallowed hard, feeling the sublime warmth of her tool come to rest between his buns; the heat and weight of her cock was staggering, feeling even more imposing in the cleft of his ass than it had in his hands, yet he wanted - no, needed to feel it inside himself.

Rocking back, trying and failing to bring the tip to his pucker, he reluctantly looked to her face. “Would you…?” he let the question hang, hoping she’d at least lend him a hand.

Rolling her eyes, she brought the head of her shaft to his winking backdoor. “You’re really gonna need to figure all this shit out,” she growled, clearly displeased that she was having to exert more effort. “Then again, I guess it can’t be HELPED!”

The final word was punctuated by a titanic thrust, forcing what felt like an arm’s worth of dick into his virgin hole. His jaw hung open in a silent scream, his eyes felt like they were bugging out of his head, and his heart nearly stopped, as his body struggled to cope with the gargantuan intrusion. Without any warm up whatsoever, being about as subtle as an extinction level meteor impact, she’d simply rammed her cock into him.

“You’ll get used to it,” she hummed, gently patting his cheek. “I’m gonna give you thirty seconds to start moving; if you don’t get going by then, I’ll have to take charge…”

The ominous promise was enough to bring Citi some focus. If she was even half as rough with his tush as she’d been with his throat, he probably wouldn’t be sitting right for a week or more. Clamping his eyes shut, taking long, steady breaths, he did everything he could to relax. The word discomfort would have been an understatement, yet he’d take that over the behemoth dickmare’s doubtlessly ruthless plowing. As steadily as he could, he rocked forward and freed a bit of her length.

Mercifully, after the first, dreaded thrust, Vinyl seemed content to lay there and watch him. Cracking one eye open, peeking down at her, he was met with her wolfish smile. As he’d suspected, for some sadistic reason, she was enjoying watching him struggle. Gritting his teeth, doing his damnedest not to clench, he bore down on her and incrementally impaled himself.

“Here,” Vinyl giggled, pulling his top up and over his chest, “let me help.”

It was all Citi could do to stifle a whimper, as her fingers played over his nipples. It wasn’t like he played with his chest much, but he could swear the little buds of rosy flesh were more sensitive than normal. Shuddering, yet continuing to slip her deeper, he ground her stallionhood into himself. The pleasure she afforded, twisting and tugging on his teats, actually did help to an extent, although he couldn’t say if it was because of the physical bliss or the masochistic joy of being objectified.

The sensation of being filled with something so massive was mind boggling. Resting on his knees, carefully easing himself back, he could swear he felt her rearranging his insides. The pressure within him was indescribable, creeping deeper into his torso, as he stuffed more of her into his painfully stretched ass. Driven by his unquestionable desire to satisfy her, amazed that he’d been able to manage as much marecock as he had, he only slowed when her thick medial ring bumped against his entrance.

Setting his jaw, he obstinately wiggled his tush from side to side. For all intents and purposes, it felt like a literal roadblock was jammed against his ass. No matter how hard he tried, shrugging off his aching, stuffed pucker, he couldn’t seem to fit the final third of her inside himself. His fruitless struggle only came to an eventual end when a pair of hands came to rest on his hips.

“I gotta say,” she murmured, patting him fondly, “I’m pretty impressed, but you’re not quite there yet.”

“I’m - Mmmph - trying,” he grunted, futilely bouncing on her stallionhood.

“I’m gonna give you until the count of ten to get it in; if you haven’t done it by then, well…” she trailed off, tightening her grip on him.

Citi swallowed hard, knowing what she meant. If he couldn’t manage to fully hilt her, he had little doubt that she’d be more than happy to do the job for him. She was easily big and strong enough to skewer him with ease, and had likely done so to any number of partners in the past, so it wasn’t just some idle threat. Exhaling through pursed lips, he screwed his eyes closed and prayed.

“One...Two...Three…” she quietly counted off, while he desperately tried to wriggle himself over the girthy band of flesh.

Realizing he was running out of time, Citi began to panic. Her initial plunge had been devastating, nearly causing him to blackout, so he couldn’t fathom how merciless she’d be if he failed her a second time. Placing his hands on his thighs, literally shoving himself downward, he ground his teeth together. Finally, just before she got to Nine, something gave.

In one smooth, albeit jarring motion, he forced her into himself. The trunk-like base of her tool bludgeoned its way into him, with the obscenely thick trunk absolutely crushing his prostate. Despite himself, he gasped and fell still. Peering down his chest, noticing a sizable bulge resting just below his rib cage, his mind reeled.

“Well looky there,” she mused, freeing one hand to caress the imprint of her dick in his gut, “you did it! I gotta say, there aren’t many who can do that on their first try - then again, I did say there was something special about you. Now then, since you managed to make it this far, how about you rut yourself on me like a good little slut.” Extending her arms, apparently happy with his determination, she rested her head on her hands.

Impossibly, having heard the order, Citi started to move. Seated on her lap, with his knees to either side of her hips, he would have never thought he’d be the one riding somebody else - still, the limb-sized stallionhood remolding his innards spoke to the contrary. She’d told him to fuck himself on her, so that’s exactly what he did; lifting his waist, unsheathing himself from the base of her tool, he slammed himself back downwards.

Up, down, up, down, his body dutifully moved like a machine. Somehow, though his mind grappled with the concept of being a living, breathing sex-toy, he’d obeyed her nonetheless; it was almost like this was where he belonged - what he was meant to be doing. Though the entire process was arduous, bordering on the herculean, yet he eventually found a steady rhythm.

While he was only vaguely aware of what he was doing, the sensation of fucking himself on someone so absurdly endowed was incomprehensible. The face-fucking Vinyl had previously given him paled in comparison to having her in his backside; to say it was intense would be putting it mildly, yet he somehow managed to move faster and faster with each passing minute.

Slowly but surely, the pain and discomfort shifted into a blinding pleasure like he had never known. Glimmering strands of pre-cum crept down his unmolested shaft, drooling to the dickmare’s sculpted abs, as his prostate was utterly pummeled by his mate. Knowing he’d done what she asked, having fit her entirety within his once virgin confines, brought a joy which surpassed anything his dick had ever given him.

He couldn’t say how long he’d gone at it, needily bouncing on her, before she slapped his rear; the jolt to his system brought with it a touch of clarity, causing him to peer down at her. As happy as he had been with himself, she didn’t seem to mirror the sentiment. Unsure of whether he should continue or stop, he awaited her command.

“As much fun as you seem to be having, I’m gonna have to put an end to it. At the rate you’re going, I’m gonna fall asleep before I blow a load,” she glibly remarked, placing her hands on his hips. “Just try not to pass out on me.”

As Citi opened his mouth to ask what she’d meant, she started fucking. Leveling her tremendous strength against him, his body was driven into the air with each thrust. His pitiful efforts had been mere child’s play, contrasted against the dickmare’s rut-lust. His eyes rolled wildly, his body was rocked with every plunge, and his pathetic stallionhood bounced and flopped around uselessly while she used him.

His climax hit him out of the blue, without any buildup whatsoever, upon a particularly violent thrust from his Mistress. Raw, unrefined rapture shot through his body, as his p-spot was devastated by the behemoth beneath him. His jaw hung open, with saliva dangling from his chin, while his vision tunneled.

“That’s right,” she grunted, bracing her legs and somehow plowing him even harder than ever, “moan for me.”

Whether or not he’d been moaning all along, Citi couldn’t say, but he obliged her salacious request. Giving voice to the astounding sensations she afforded, he rolled his head back and throatily groaned. Any shame or reluctance to mewl aloud was gone, crumbling to nothing as he became her whore.

His reality, his very existence was taken from him, replaced by the sinful revelation of being her plaything. Everything sounded muffled, his vision went in and out of focus, and his heart pounded in his chest, as his body was forced closer to another orgasm - no refractory period, no gradual escalation, simply skyrocketing towards a second detonation of ecstasy.

Subconsciously, his hand strayed towards his groin - that was until something grabbed his wrist. Peering down, past the massive bulge appearing and disappearing within his belly, he spied her gripping his arm. As he dreamily looked at her face, wondering if something was wrong, she met his eye with a wicked stare.

Only slowing in the slightest degree, Vinyl guided his hand to his chest. “If you have to play with something, play with your tits…”

He nodded, tugging at his top to reveal his nipples. Tweaking and twisting one sensitive bud of flesh, the additional sensory input magnified his rapture to unimaginable heights. The notion of stroking himself was quickly lost, disappearing into the ether, as he acquiesced to the amazoness’ will.

On and on she went, literally fucking the cum out of him for what felt like hours. He couldn’t say how many times he’d peaked, although it reached a point where all he could manage were dry orgasms. Time gradually lost meaning, while he drifted in and out of consciousness, until a singular pressure within him stirred his thoughts. Glancing at his stomach, seeing the imprint of her flare growing to nearly double its original size, some part of him realized she had reached her limit.

As badly as he tried to beg her, to beseech her for her seed, all he could manage was to pant and needily whine; fortunately for him, the dickmare needed no coaxing on the matter. Wrapping one arm around his back, she pulled him forward. It was a bit jarring, especially considering she hadn’t stopped jackhammering his ass, but she wasn’t nearly finished; leaning in, she savagely clamped her jaws on his neck and came.

The influx of pain and foal-batter utterly broke him. The heat of so much cum pumping into him, filling his insides to a point of near bursting, was as mind boggling as it was obscene. Nearly convulsing, wracked with sensations that felt too impossible to describe, he suffered through something more than a climax. He simply wasn’t meant to be used in such a depraved way, so his body did the only thing it could to cope; slipping into a maddening sea of ecstasy, he passed out.

...

“Hey…” a voice called, a split second before something lightly slapped his cheek. “Hey, wake up.”

Wearily lifting his head, uncertain if he was dreaming or not, Citi peeked out and spotted his Mistress above him. It took him a second to comprehend that he was no longer on her, yet that wasn’t the only thing which was different. Laying on his back, peering up at her face, he absently beamed.

“There’s that cum-drunk smile,” she giggled, smirking to herself. “Since you agreed to my offer, even if you decided to give yourself a nap, I took the liberty of putting your new equipment on.”

“Equipment?” he croaked, tilting his head. Seeing her shift, feeling her flick something on his groin, he went rigid.

Struggling to push himself up, attempting to see what was on his crotch, his view was impeded by his positively gravid-looking stomach. Filled with what had to be liters of spunk, his belly left him looking heavily pregnant. Unfortunately, the sight of his bloated gut made it next to impossible to spot what was fastened to him.

“It’s your cage,” she tutted, addressing his concern. “Mare’s don’t have a dick, right?” she asked, prompting him to nod. “Then there you go. Don’t worry, I’ll let you take it off to shower, but you’re not going to be using your clit for anything in the near future, if ever again…”

As jarring as it was, still finding it difficult to think, the notion of having himself locked in chastity didn’t seem that bad. Seeing as how she’d literally plowed the cum out of him, giving him multiple climaxes that were stronger than any he’d ever had, his lust-addled mind didn’t find it as much of a concern. As he forced himself up, into some approximation of a seated position, she extended her arm.

“Here,” she grunted, shaking something in his face, “put this on.”

Peeking down at the item, his eyes widened. In her palm rested a thick band of pink leather, embellished with large golden letters that spelled out BITCH. Unsteadily taking the collar and slipping it around his neck, he saw no reason to question her. As far as he was concerned, she owned him now...