Playmates

Resting against one arm of the sofa, weary and content, Rumble couldn’t be happier with the direction his life had taken. His dearest friend, Button, lay passed out beside him, Soarin and Thunderlane had been fucked into a coma in the kitchen, and he’d only barely managed to remain conscious after being rutted by his Daddy. A weary smile split his lips, as a whorish moan crept to his ears.

Serving Midig and Bidix was like a dream come true. The twins had shown him his place, accentuated his femininity to rival or eclipse even the most attractive mares, and he got laid at least once or twice a day. His brother and friends had gone through a similar treatment, their forms being altered ever so slightly to suit their roles, but they weren’t the only ones. Lifting his head, he peered at the wondrously obscene display before himself.

His Daddies were carnal gods, in spite of their meager stature and young age, and could conquer practically any stallion they laid their eyes upon. The pair’s endurance could and often did see their playthings pass out before they were exhausted, leaving their lovers filled and covered in their rich, virile spunk, and they were mature beyond their years. He never would have thought there would be anypony who could rival the twin’s sexual might - that was before the little zebras invited their family to Ponyville.

Nearly a month prior, no fewer than six of the siblings’ cousins had immigrated from Zebrica, accompanied by their parents, and the town simply hadn’t been the same since. It was difficult enough to satiate a pair of the lustful, big-dicked, domineering youths, so having an octet made things very, very interesting. Unwilling to share their mates, Midig and Bidix had helped their kin find lovers of their own.

Rumble glanced to his left, peering at the newest and arguably most unexpected member of the zebra’s growing harem. With a golden mane and tail, arctic eyes, and a snow-white coat, the unicorn threw his head back and groaned atop the striped colt beneath him. He wouldn’t have guessed that such an illustrious noble would ever be such a pervert - then again, he supposed there wasn’t a pony alive who could resist a zebra’s affection.

“Mmmph Mmmph Mmmph,” Blueblood whimpered, hammering his ass atop the colt. As he leaned forward, peppering the young zebra’s cheek with kisses, he was pushed away. “S…sorry, Ode.”

The little stud scowled and waved a forehoof. “Lean back, Sow, I want to see that delicious hole of yours. And stop calling me Ode - it’s Master.”

Throwing himself back, placing his forehooves behind his head, the unicorn loudly moaned. It was a shame he couldn’t watch himself getting plowed, left to imagine the sight of his snug, pink hole and alabaster hide contrasted against the obsidian behemoth filling him, but the sinful taboo and physical bliss more than made up for it. As he ground his tush against the colt and gyrating his hips, relished the sensation of the thick root of cock crushing his p-spot.

“My little Princess enjoying herself?” Ode chuckled, reaching out and flicking the unicorn’s pathetic, fully-flaccid prick.

With small sparks flying from his horn, Blueblood nodded. “Uh…Uh-huh.”

“Do you think Celestia and Luna would approve of an esteemed Canterlot unicorn being owned by a Zebrican colt?” the tiny stud snickered.

The remark summoned a gout of pre-cum from the unicorn’s soft length, pushing him closer to his limit. For him to be used like a sex toy by anypony would have been scandalous enough, yet his situation was magnitudes more shameful. He’d dedicated himself to a colt half his age, he’s already sworn off ponies forever, and his lover was a foreign commoner - all told, should anypony find out about his love life, he’d be the laughingstock of Canterlot.

“Answer,” Ode hissed, grabbing and pulling on a leash hanging from the unicorn’s neck.

“I…I don’t know,” Blueblood hesitantly replied, while the colt bucked up to meet his descents.

“I don’t see why they’d oppose our relationship,” Ode placidly remarked, his calm words standing in stark contrast to his monstrous, pistoning tool. “You’re a Princess and you deserve to have only the finest, most capable stud to breed you.”

The royal faltered and whimpered uncontrollably, watery seed dribbling from his comparably miniscule prick. Even with all of the sexual experience he’d gained over his life, he never lasted more than a few minutes with the colt - compound that with the dirty talk, sinful promises and vague threats to his lofty position in society, and he may as well be an amorous neophyte compared to the zebra. Nearly wrenched off balance by the lead clipped to his collar, he found himself face to face with his lover.

Life had a funny way of making things come into perspective. There he was, a literal Prince, bouncing on some foreign commoner’s fat, juicy cock like it was the last day of his life. Somepony of his esteemed status should never participate in something so depraved, yet the ignominy of it all elevated his arousal to staggering heights. Clenching his battered, cum-slickened hole, milking his stud for all his worth, he drew closer to his limit.

“Admit it,” the young zebra whispered, bracing his hind legs and jackhammering into the stallion. “You want me to parade you through Canterlot - you want everypony to see you wearing your collar, a cute tiara, and a revealing dress while you walk beside me…”

The thought of himself being paraded through the capital, being led around like a trophy wife by a mere colt, was enough to make Blueblood’s climax redouble. His legs shook uncontrollably, spunk seeped from his shaft, and his pucker quaked around the gargantuan stallionhood ruining him, while his mind began to go blank. If word got out what he’d been doing, not to mention who he’d been doing it with, he’d be ruined!

“Yes,” Ode hissed, drawing the unicorn closer. “Tell me you’re my Princess and I may breed you like one.”

Sensing the colt’s wildly throbbing, flaring stallionhood, Blueblood shook off his stupor and flew into a frenzy. This is what he needed, this was where he belonged, and he genuinely felt like he’d finally found a missing part from his life. Reclining and arching his back, leaving his prick to flail about, he drew a deep breath.

“Yes,” he howled, feeling the behemoth swell within him, “I’m your Princess! I’ll do whatever you waaaAAAAAH!”

His shameless admission transitioned into an orgasmic howl, as the colt peaked. Sweltering, thick, potent seed poured into him, making his stomach gurgle and distend under the immense pressure and weight, as he was driven to climax yet again. He wasn’t sure what was worse - the fact that he may lose his title and standing in Canterlot, or that he’d give up literally everything he had to stay with his pint-sized paramour.

As he and his lover grew still, he savored the heat radiating through his body. It was incredible to think that a stallion so young could produce such an unbelievable amount of cum, eclipsing what he could produce in a week with a single load, but that was only one of the many reasons he’d fallen for his young mate. Overjoyed with Ode’s blissful expression, drawing contentment for pleasing his master, he tried to ignore the wanton pleas from beside him.

“P…put it in my…” Caramel stammered, unable to look the Dinta in the eye.

He’d done what he’d asked, laying on his back while spreading his hind legs, but he couldn’t bring himself to finish speaking. Though he was all too familiar with presenting himself for another, having done so more times than he could count over the years, saying something so vulgar just felt dirty. Swallowing hard, his anxiety juxtaposed by his pre-cum weeping chastity cage, he fidgeted nervously.

“Put it where,” Dinta asked, cocking a brow. “You’re not a stallion and you never were one, if I had to guess, which makes you a mare. Since you’re a mare, where do you want me to put this?”

The colt’s statement was concluded by the dull, meaty thud of his colossal stallionhood against Caramel’s underbelly - a noise which sent a thrill coursing through the pony. He’d never been all that masculine to begin with, what with his brown, shoulder-length mane, cerulean eyes, and amber coat, yet things had only gotten worse since he’d met his diminutive, exotic stud. Shortly after being introduced to Dinta, the colt who’d rocked the very foundations of his world, he’d started looking and acting more feminine than ever.

It wasn’t like he’d intended to become more marish than he already was, yet some deep-seated, subconscious part of himself had begun to change him. Though it was easy enough to brush off questions about why he was growing out his mane, he’d gone to great lengths to keep some of his more questionable activities a well-guarded secret - well he’d tried to. After spending a second night with his stud, he awoke to find a contraption locked to his equipment.

“I guess you really don’t want it then,” the zebra huffed, turning to depart.

“Wait,” Caramel bleated, spreading his cheeks to show off his winking, slavering pucker. “I…I want you to fuck my pussy.”

The colt paused, a twisted smirk creeping across his muzzle, as he turned and inched toward the supine pony. “I guess you really do want it,” he hummed, stepping over the flustered, once-stallion’s thighs. “Look at this,” he breathed, bucking his hips and dragging him length over his lover’s leaking chastity cage. “This is why mares like you roll over and spread your legs for me. Don’t you think it’s insulting that anypony would consider us both stallions?”

A bead of saliva crept down Caramel’s chin, the pressure of his cage seemed to mount, and his backdoor angrily clenched upon itself, begging him to be filled, as he stared down his chest and at the log of flesh against him. It was true - he really wasn’t a stallion. A stallion wouldn’t beg to be fucked, stallions didn’t make themselves pretty, and stallions most certainly didn’t have a pussy ~ so what did that make him. Releasing his hind legs, he carefully slipped his fetlocks over the young zebra’s hips.

“Tell me what you are,” Dinta pressed, leaning in to stroke the blushing pony’s cheek.

Caramel gulped and looked upward, locking eyes with his mate. It didn’t matter that he was scared, what the town would think of him, or if he ever got to use his pitiful stallionhood again - not like he’d ever used it much to begin with. He’d heard that change and growth was uncomfortable, but he took solace in that - after all, he was becoming what he’d been meant to be all along.

“I’m your mare,” he replied.

As soon as he spoke the words, it felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He skyrocketed toward release, without so much as touching himself, when he embraced who and what he truly was. Bearing a broad, predatory grin, peering down at him, Dinta shuffled back, got into position, and slid into his welcoming confines. Despite having just warred with the notion that he had a pussy, the sensation of the meaty shaft within him truly made him feel like a mare.

Leaning forward, wrapping his forelegs around the colt’s neck, he locked lips with his stud. Maybe in another life, he would have been a she, a happily married mare who lived to serve her husband, but he wasn’t going to let that thought stop him. If he had to degrade himself, prance around in feminine clothing, and forsake his stallionhood, so be it. Feeling Dinta’s weighty, cum-filled balls press against his tush, he flexed his legs and bucked his hips upward.

Pulling back ever so slightly, the zebra shifted his muzzle to the pony’s ear. “Such an eager little mare. If you keep this up, I might need to bring you home and claim you as my concubine.”

“Like a w…wife?” Caramel couldn’t keep the enthused tremor from his voice.

“Like a wife,” Dinta repeated, his hips falling into a steady, unhurried rhythm, “though you’d have to play the part and devote yourself to me entirely. You would devote yourself to me ~ wouldn’t you?”

Caramel’s heart skipped a beat, as his backdoor fiercely clamped around the zebra’s shaft. Could it really be that easy? Would his dreams eventually become a reality? If there was even the slightest chance that he could live out his fantasy, if only in part, he’d hold nothing back. Pulling his lower half upward, he met the stud’s thrusts.

There was only so much he could do while being on his back, but that was hardly a bad thing. Servile little mares like him belonged kneeling or laying down, acquiescing to their mate’s wishes at every waking moment. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever been all that assertive with anypony, specifically with bedroom affairs, yet being claimed by a zebra had been a life-altering experience.

“S…so big,” he whimpered, clamping his eyes shut.

He didn’t have to look down at himself to feel the bulge of Dinta’s stallionhood in his stomach. Darned if he could explain how such a young colt was so exceptionally well-hung and domineering, having the carnal prowess and expertise of a stallion triple his age, yet each of the young Zebricans were quite similar in that regard. The thought of his mate growing and maturing, both in stature and endowment, set his nerves alight.

Dinta growled and shifted the angle of his plunges, crushing the pony’s prostate and earning a delighted squeal for his efforts. “Perhaps a pair of - Nnnf - juicy teats, ones which could eventually fead our foal, would serve you well.”

Blinking rapidly, unsure of what he’d heard, Caramel reared back. “W…what?”

“Teats,” the zebra affirmed, slowing as he reached down to brush a forehoof against the femcolt’s undeveloped bosoms. “Zebrican potions are a powerful thing. Would you like that ~ being my big breasted broodmare who cares for our offspring?”

Flashes of himself pregnant - genuinely pregnant, with a pair of heavy, leaking breasts hit Caramel like a freight train. He hadn’t been all that close to his limit, maybe several minutes from being pushed to the edge, yet the mental assault made him cum in the blink of an eye. His shrill wail cut through the air, while impotent jizz weakly gushed from his chastity cage. He’d do anything - anything to actually have a foal and become a mother, and he wasn’t going to let his friends or family stop him.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head, the air was driven from his lungs with each of Dinta’s thrusts, and he could practically feel what little was left of his masculinity dripping out of his useless prick. It was like he was abandoning his old life, closing one chapter and opening the next, and it made his climax all the more powerful. Thoughtlessly twisting his head to the side, his eyes settling on one of his companions, he remembered he wasn’t the only pony present.

“I bet I don’t even need this,” Ube snickered, running a hoof up the steel-blue unicorn’s horn, “but it’s part of the fun ~ wouldn’t you say?”

“Mmmn nnph!” Pokey replied - well tried to reply.

A blindfold lay strapped to his head, his hooves were bound to the bondage horse, a negation ring sat on his horn, and a drool-ball was crammed into his muzzle, while the colt circled and taunted him. He was the most reluctant stallion to join the zebricans’ little group, but his resistance had gradually been reduced to nothing. Squirming in place, his stallionhood leaking and pucker winking at nothing, he was totally helpless to stop Ube from using him.

He’d never known he was even into bondage - then again, prior to being introduced to the zebras, he never thought he’d fool around with a colt so much younger than himself. The past few weeks had seen him develop a number of tastes, as well as have a few of his preferences shift dramatically. Unlike Caramel, Blueblood, or any of the other ponies present, he was a switch, accustomed to both topping and bottoming, but that had changed.

Always the experimental sort, willing to try everything at least once, he’d only been slightly nervous to be bound up and left to the mercy of Ube, the rigger of all the little studs. A long, braided cord of leather had been bound around his neck, torso, legs, and tail, before he was hoisted from the ceiling like a lewd pinata. He wouldn’t deny that it was a little scary at first, being unable to budge in the slightest, but that trace of fear had unlocked a part of him that he didn’t know existed.

From the second he’d first been trussed up and mercilessly edged, he was hooked. Something about the powerlessness of it all, knowing full well that he couldn’t stop anypony from doing anything to him was far more arousing than it had any right to be. He’d fidgeted and groaned, dripping pre-cum beneath him and growing so hard that it hurt, before he was finally fucked from behind. The orgasm he’d endured, easily the most powerful one he’d ever experienced, was transformative - heck, it was apocryphal, and he’d quickly grown addicted to such treatment.

He shifted his head, hearing the sound of footfalls moving up alongside him, and paused when he smelled it - the strong, unmistakable scent of his Master’s loins. Guided by the smell, he fruitlessly extended his neck while sniffing the air. Stars above - he couldn’t help himself. He’d heard that having one sense robbed strengthened the others, but it wasn’t until he’d met Ube that he’d learned just how true that was.

“You want it,” a stern voice asked.

He could feel it, a subtle warmth bathing the end of his muzzle, and he nodded feverishly. A tense second passed, followed by a second and third, tinging his excitement with fear. If he could have spoken, he would have begged his Master to let him be of use - regrettably, all he could do was groan around the perforated ball stuffed in his maw. Just as he was about to give up hope, he felt the buckle at the back of his head deftly plucked open.

The ball was instantly spat to the ground, as he extended his tongue and yawned his mouth open. He was a warm hole, a toy to help the virile studs relieve their sexual urges, and he wished for nothing more than to be made use of. Licking at the open air, feeling as though the little zebra’s dick was just out of reach, he heard a frustrated huff from above.

“What do we say?” Ube darkly muttered.

“P…please,” Pokey sputtered, “make use of me, Master.”

With an apathetic sigh, the colt placed a hoof on his shoulder, closed the gap between them, and allowed the desperate pony to suck his cock. “You forgot your manners again,” he began, bucking into the bound stallion’s face, “so I’ll have to punish you.”

Pokey gagged around the massive length in his gullet, his throat contracting. He’d never thought much about the punishment before a month ago, knowing its meaning but having no fondness or disdain towards it, yet that had changed of late. Simply hearing the word was exhilarating, comprehending that it held a cruel sting and sinful caress. Reflexively bucking his hips, attempting to continue fellating his master, he drove his stallionhood against the cool, unfeeling wood beneath him.

Just as quickly as he’d begun, Ube stepped back and hauled his shaft from his mate’s snout. “Oh? Does somepony want to be punished?” he mockingly asked, no doubt watching the pony’s face growing redder by the second.

Feeling his mouth go dry, the unicorn nodded and licked pre-cum from his lips. “Yes…”

“What was that?” the zebra inquired. “I need you to speak up…”

The unicorn screwed his eyes shut and pursed his lips, summoning his courage. He’d just wandered face-first into a dilemma - one which had no right solution. If he kept his mouth shut and refused to answer, he would be punished much, much more harshly than normal, to the point where he wouldn’t be allowed to climax, but if he repeated himself and confessed to wanting discipline, he knew he’d end up blowing a load all over himself and the floor. Lowering his head, he filled his lungs.

“I said I deserve it,” he admitted. “I’ve been a bad little pony and you should punish me.”

“How right you are,” Ube smoothly responded. “Now then, since you’ve been honest, I have two more questions for you. Gag or blindfold?”

“Blindfold!” Pokey blurted, drawing an amused titter from the zebra.

As the leather over his eyes was removed, and the drool ball crammed back into his mouth, he squinted up at the colt. Not being able to see was fun, yet being able to look at his Master was a gift he always took joy in. Watching his lover turn and trot over to a large, wooden trunk, his pulse started to race.

“Second question…” the zebra continued, hefting a paddle and leather strap from the box.

Though Pokey couldn’t speak, his eyes settled on the strap. The paddle, a wooden construct with holes drilled in it, was a cruel thing, almost too much to bear at times, making the thick leather band almost merciful in comparison. Nodding to the right, toward the least savage of the two options, his eyes widened as his Master dropped lash back into the crate.

“I hope you’re nice and tight for me,” Ube mused, nonchalantly trotting behind the stallion, “because I’d hate to have to use this…”

As the colt reared back and mounted him, Pokey grunted. Having already been screwed by two of the zebras, while his Master laughed at and teased him with a number of toys, he knew he wouldn’t be as snug as he usually was - still, he wasn’t going to panic quite yet. Whimpering around his gag, feeling the battering ram-like head of Ube’s stallionhood pop into his abused ass, he slowly exhaled to relax - a move he quickly regretted.

SMACK

The pain that shot through him made him yelp and instantly tense up, his stuffed backdoor seizing around the ebony length sinking into him, while the stud guffawed. He realized what was expected of him, but he couldn’t understand how he was supposed to tighten up constantly! As heat and soreness blossomed on his stricken flank, he peeked over his shoulder.

“You’re supposed to follow my directions,” Ube insisted, punctuating his statement by hilting hilting the pony. “Apologize and don’t give me that look again.”

“Mmm mmmph mph,” Pokey unintelligibly responded, saliva creeping down his chin and dangling to the floor.

“Good,” the zebra huffed, rolling his hips back to free a portion of his shaft. “Now milk my dick like you mean it. I swear, it’s like you ponies want us to mistreat you.”

Pokey’s first spank was followed by a softer, more playful second, as he started to get rutted in earnest. The sensation of abject fullness, feeling his insides rearranged by the behemoth pounding his ass, was amplified by his inability to move and the bit of pain from being lovingly abused. Though he could only shift only the tiniest bit, afforded only the slightest bit of freedom, he rhythmically constricted his backdoor around his mate.

As insane as it sounded, Ube was a savant with little more than rope, leather, and occasionally chains. The little zebra had tied him up in ways that shouldn’t have been possible, gradually increasing his pliability and knowing just when to up the intensity of their affairs - so much so that he doubted he’d ever be satisfied with anything or anypony else. As he unleashed a guttural groan, while his p-spot was pummeled, his eyelids fluttered.

The best part about his newly acquired kink was that he literally couldn’t do anything to stop Ube or any of the zebras from using him. He’d spent nearly his entire life in control, choosing where he worked, lived, and what he did with his free time, yet that changed the moment the leather came out. Sensing himself starting to flare, his stallionhood twitching and throbbing against the wooden frame of the bondage horse he rested atop of, he fought to hold himself back.

“Getting close?” Ube whispered, thrusting away as he lay on the pony’s juicy flanks.

“Mmmph Hmmmph,” Pokey admitted, realizing there was no point in trying to lie.

Increasing both the speed and force of his thrusts, using his girthy medial ring to demolish the pegasus’ bitch-button, the cold snickered. “It doesn’t matter, go ahead. Once I’m done flooding your ass, you’re going to suck my cock clean anyways.”

The small promise and go-ahead was exactly what Pokey had been waiting for, crushing what little resolve he had left. Grunting and braying past the gag, sputtering drool from his muzzle, he painted the floor with his spunk. He had no doubt that Ube would bully him for having so little endurance, yet that didn’t bother him in the slightest. Doing what he could to control himself, continuing to try and squeeze the enormous stallionhood hammering him from behind, he was only vaguely aware of the scene playing out in the center of the room.

Mac’s heart thundered in his chest, his stallionhood oozed pre-cum like a broken faucet, and his nose bumped against one of the triplet’s groins, while his throat and oversized ass were exploited. Ekpe, Nri, and Elu, a trio of brothers from Zebrica, had become quite fond of him and his gargantuan stature, oftentimes setting upon him en masse to slake their youthful thirst. His size had always been a boon, allowing him to accomplish tasks that would normally require two or more stallions working in tandem, and it extended into amorous affairs as much as it did the mundane.

Out of all the ponies who’d come to adore the growing herd of zebras, he was the only one who could handle two or more of the striped studs at the same time. Rocking back while bobbing his head, throating the colt in front of him, he clenched around the two stallionhoods pistoning into his giant, carmine ass. It wasn’t just because being fucked by three colts simultaneously felt phenomenal, nor that he often got off without the slightest bit of stimulation to his dick while being plowed like a field, that he enjoyed his time with his mates - it was because he basked in the rare ability to do so.

Having one huge cock inside him was great, two was even better, but being able to accommodate three at the same time was downright heavenly. Though his titanic body did have a number of benefits, benefits the zebras exploited on a regular basis, he’d had to make a few adjustments to make up for his glaring lack of feminine features. The triplets had been totally blindsided when he’d appeared after their first tryst wearing makeup, unaware that he actually liked to crossdress from time to time.

Adorned in clinging black fishnets, a matching micro-skirt, and a tube top, he’d anointed himself with dark lipstick, eyeshadow, and eyeliner - sure, he’d never pass for a mare, but being done-up allowed him to slip into a bottom-bitch role much more easily. Sheathing the entirety of one Ekpe’s length down his gullet, his lips wrapped around the thick root of cock in his muzzle, he bounced his big, succulent rear and did what he could to match Nri and Elu’s zeal. He’d already warmed up Ube and Ode for their respective mates, loosening himself up in the process, so now he could focus on the triplets currently making use of him.

“F…fuck, he’s tight,” Nri huffed, bracing his hind legs and bucking his hips upward.

Elu nodded and increased his pace, hugging the gigantic stallion’s tremendous, pillowy ass while he continued to furiously hump away. “I get his face next.”

“Ew - no! I’m not gonna get sloppy fifths!” Ekpe jeered, looking over at his brother. “It’s bad enough that you two are sharing his hole right now!”

Mac shivered, delighted by the banter. The three weren’t just delighted to be tag-teaming him - they were actually jockeying over who got to use him and how. The only reason they’d taken their positions was because, after flipping coins and making bets, Ekpe had gotten dibs and left his siblings to either take turns or double-penetrate him. With a sinful hum, he pulled his head back, mopped his pouting lips along the colt’s shaft, and nursed the sensitive tip of stallionhood in his snout.

Ekpe shuddered and grasped the pony’s ears, the head of his cock swelling in size. His immense endowment and skill meant nothing compared to such a well-trained and eager slut, leaving him at a loss. Trying and failing to hold himself back, with his brothers growing more frantic by the second, he realized it was a fool’s errand - not that he was particularly bothered. Grabbing Mac’s head and thrusting forward, burying every inch of his considerable length down the stallion’s throat, he set his jaw, clamped his eyes shut, and crossed the threshold.

Nri and Elu peaked moments after, as Mac’s pucker covetously seized their pistoning shafts. Their dull groans and muted whimpers, followed by the sensation of roiling seed being pumped into his depths, was just what he needed to climax for the fourth time that evening. His stallionhood twitched and jerked, slavering what little spunk was left in his hefty, nearly drained nuts onto his chest, while he rode out his bliss.

Not only could he achieve multiple orgasms in short order while being on the receiving end of a good, hard dicking, but there was something incredible about being fucked to a climax. All his strength and stoic silence meant nothing, when he was bottoming for any of his myriad of lovers. Waiting until the flow of Ekpe’s jizz began to taper off, he withdrew, got the final ropes of cum struedeled on his face, and opened his mouth to display most of the colt’s load.

“Ancestors be - that’s way too hot,” Ekpe rasped, watching the stallion swallow his spunk.

Mac couldn’t be happier with their arrangement - a sentiment shared by all the stallions under the zebras’ thrall. He couldn’t be sure, but he wouldn’t be surprised if more and more ponies joined their herd, learning of the sinful delights the exotic colts had to offer, but he knew he’d always have a special place among them. Closing his mouth and swallowing, cherishing the cloying, salty flavor on his tongue, he smiled. Though they may not want to switch places, something told him he was far from finished that night…