Cold Blood, Fiery Passion

Chapters

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

Chapter 1

With her eyes held shut, Spike exhaled. Her - that still got to her sometimes. It wasn’t all that long ago that she’d thought of herself as a guy - heck, she still did from time to time, but that was becoming increasingly less frequent. As she peeked out and at the vanity before her, a silly little grin crept across her muzzle.

She’d been dreaming about this day for months on end, ever since she met him, yet all her planning and hard work meant next to nothing. Simply put, she was so anxious that she could hardly keep her thoughts straight - fortunately for her, Twilight had taken her frazzled nerves into account. Peering downward, her eyes settled on a neat little list.

“Makeup, right,” she breathed.

Plucking a tube of harlequin colored lipstick, she pursed her lips and leveled her attention at her reflection. She’d already gotten her blush, eyeliner, and mascara applied, using all the tricks that Rarity had taught her, but she wasn’t quite finished yet. She moved slowly and fought to keep her hand steady while she finished making herself up.

Sweet Celestia - was it always going to be this hard? What if she screwed something up? Would anypony say anything if they saw her shaking like a leaf? Through sheer force of will, she centered herself for just long enough to get her lips painted then broke into a fit of tense laughter.

This was too funny. There she was, worked up into a ball of stress, while knowing she didn’t have anything to worry about. She knew everypony in attendance, having gone over the guest list with Twilight a number of times, so there was no logical reason she should be so worked up - nevertheless, her subconscious mind seemed dead set on keeping her from enjoying herself.

Getting to her feet, she slid her chair back to get a better look at herself. Though she’d looked at her reflection at least a dozen times that morning already, the sight of herself was still awe inspiring. As her hands ran down the front of her snow-white dress, her smile broadened.

Though she wasn’t one to toot her own horn, she had to admit that she looked pretty good. Her gown fit her perfectly, accentuating her hips, trim waist, and slender figure. She may not have been some buxom, curvaceous dragoness, yet her femininity shone through like a gleaming star.

Her gaze swept lower, past her flat chest and midsection, and settled on her groin. It was subtle, the sort of thing that would be missed unless somepony was looking for it, but there was the slightest tent at the fabric over her crotch. Giving a small, petulant snort, she ignored the small sign of her arousal.

She could have - would have donned a pair of panties, had the circumstances demanded otherwise, although that wasn’t much of an issue. Her endowment wasn’t all that impressive, a scant few inches rock hard, and it had been a sore point for her - had being the functional term. For years on end and all throughout puberty, she’d yearned for a big, meaty tool - needless to say, through no fault of her own, her equipment hadn’t grown as much as the rest of her.

“Spike?” a familiar voice called out.

She turned to face the tent’s entrance. “J…just a minute!”

Turning and peering at her reflection one last time, she knit her brow and nodded. There wasn’t a thing in the world that was going to ruin this day, and she was going to keep it that way. The good news was that she had plenty of help for her very special day, having her friends, family, and even the Princesses in attendance - the bad news was that it wouldn’t be long until she stepped out and into the limelight.

“You got this, Spike,” she muttered. “Just go out there and -”

“Spike,” the voice shouted again, a bit more urgently this time, “can I come in?”

Pinching the bridge of her snout, Spike hung her head. “Of course you can, Twilight, you don’t have to ask.”

The heavy tarp over the entrance rustled softly as Twilight entered. “I didn’t want to - Woah.”

Spike’s eyes shot open and she looked to the side, immediately thrown off by the shocked reaction. “What? What is it? Is t…there something wrong with -”

“You’re beautiful,” Twilight breathed. Trotting over to her, she beamed when Spike looked up to her face. “Spike, I…I don’t know what to say…”

Seeing Twilight’s eyes grow moist, Spike stepped forward and hugged her. “You don’t have to say anything, Twi. Without you, none of this would be possible.”

Twilight sniffled and returned the embrace without the slightest bit of hesitation. “It’s…it’s just - Sniff - I d…didn’t think this day would come as f…fast as it did…”

“Hey,” Spike whispered, pulling back to wipe a tear from her cheek, “none of that ~ okay?”

Grinning from ear to ear, Twilight nodded. “I’m so, so proud of you, Spike. You’ve grown into such a lovely daughter.”

Spike’s cheeks darkened and went a faint green as she averted her gaze. “I…I don’t know about that…”

“But it’s true,” Twilight insisted. “If somepony had told me you’re blossom into the beautiful dragon standing before me, I wouldn’t have believed them - that being said, I couldn’t be a happier mother.”

“Thanks,” Spike breathed. It took her a moment to collect herself enough to look Twilight in the face, but she promptly gave her mom another hug when she did. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you…”

“Easy,” Twilight chuckled, her voice still quaking, “you just found yourself.”

As deceptively simple as the claim was, it was true. She’d spent most of her life pretending to be something she wasn’t, seeking out a future that she’d assumed was expected of her, yet she’d finally seen the light thanks to her special somepony. Reluctantly pulling away, she released Twilight and threw her arms wide.

“So I look alright?” she meekly asked.

“Alright?” Twilight repeated in an amused tone. “Spike, you look perfect. I would say Rarity’s dress looks good on you, but that’s not the case. You make the dress look good!”

The compliment was exactly what she needed to hear. She was relatively pleased with her appearance, although to hear praise from somepony other than herself, and a pony she loved with all his heart no less, filled her with pride. Moments from attempting to brush away her flattery by telling her she was his mom, she noticed where Twilight was looking.

“W…wow - I guess somepony is a little excited,” Twilight snickered, shamelessly eyeing the tiny swell under Spike’s dress.

“Mom,” Spike wined, covering herself while face-palming. “You know, you don’t have to say -”

“T…to be fair, I’d be pretty worked up myself - I mean, that coltfriend of yours,” she continued, going so far as to fan herself with one wing.

With a rebuttal forming on her forked tongue, Spike set her jaw and remained silent. She knew Twilight better than anypony, and she was well-aware that her mom had the hots for her lover. Simply thinking about him for a brief moment was enough to send a thrilled shiver up her spine. She’d freely admit that her stomach was tying itself in knots over what she was about to do, but all the sleepless nights and anticipation would be worth it - she knew it would.

Shifting uncomfortably, Twilight rubbed the back of her neck. “Did - um - did you make all the arrangements?”

“Mom, of course I did,” Spike clucked. “You were with me for most of -”

“All of the arrangements,” Twilight softly interrupted before clearing her throat and glancing at Spike’s hip.

Blushing harder than ever, her face going a deep vermillion, Spike nodded and stared down at the floor. “N…Not like it’s a…any of your beeswax, b…but yeah…”

While the occasion was a momentous one by any metric, it was anything but standard. She had her dress, veil, and a bouquet of flowers that Fluttershy had picked especially for her, all the things anypony would expect on such a day, yet she’d also made a few special preparations. Absentmindedly clenching her pucker, she suppressed a shiver.

It was hard for her to pinpoint exactly when she’d accepted who and what she was, although she had her lover to thank for opening her eyes to the joys of sex. Despite her best efforts and years of trying to find a marefriend for herself, she’d never had much love with romance - that was, until she met him. Imagining her big, beefy stud was enough to lighten her mood and fill her with anticipation.

“Spike…”

The things he’d done with her - to her, were enough to make a whore blush. With her mouth watering and prick twitching beneath her gown, she ground her thighs together. Most dragonesses in her place would have to bide their time, holding themselves back for night to fall to get some hard-earned relief and have a bit of fun, but not her - not with what was…

“Spike!”

“Huh?” she dully grunted, coming to her senses and torn from her stupor. “What?”

Twilight grinned and shook her head. “You kinda zoned out there. Lemme guess ~ you were thinking about -”

“D…don’t say it,” Spike bleated, clenching her fists at her sides.

Rolling her eyes, Twilight dismissively waved a hoof. “Spike, please, you act like I don’t know what you two have been up to. Do I need to remind you that I -”

Spike’s hand shot out and pinched her muzzle closed, sparing her from hearing the story for the umpteenth time. “Yeah, I know. I swear, you’re like a broken record.”

“Don’t blame me,” Twilight huffed, having shaken free from his grasp. “Honestly, and this might be a bit TMI, I was a little jealous when I walked in and found out just how close you two were.”

There was a time when Spike would have been mortified to hear the sinful admission from anypony, and especially from her own mother, yet she’d almost become accustomed to it - almost. When once she would have run away with her hands clamped over her ears, sparing herself the scandalous details about Twilight’s opinions of her and her coltfriend, she was now strong - well, stronger. Cocking her hip, she impatiently tapped her foot on the floor.

“Are you done?” she groused.

Turning and trotting back and forth, Twilight kept her eyes lowered. “I knew dragons were durable, but I couldn’t believe you weren’t walking funny for at least three or four days - on top of that, you didn’t even -”

“Twilight!” Spike snapped.

Twilight stopped in her tracks and went wide-eyed, apparently having lost herself to her obscene musings. “Oh - s…sorry about that. It’s j…just that -”

“Mom, it’s fine,” Spike sighed, sauntering over and resting a hand on her shoulder. “I promise, if and when I visit his folks, I’ll see if there are any eligible bachelors in his tribe.”

“I’d…I’d appreciate that,” she mumbled, unable or unwilling to meet his gaze.

Smiling to herself, Spike bit back a giggle. Trying to find her a coltfriend of her own was the least he could do, given everything she’d done for her in the past, but that would have to wait - for now, she had more pressing concerns to deal with. She withdrew her hand, turned, and drifted to a nearby table, hoping to both change the subject and get her opinion on something that had occupied her mind.

“Yes or no?” she inquired, raising a pink rose to the side of her head.

The question about her accessory was genuine, and she truly would like her mom’s input on it. She couldn’t explain it, relying almost exclusively on Rarity’s eye for fashion for her outfit, but something about the single rose over her ear felt right. Smiling expectantly, she held the lone blossom in place and held her breath.

Twilight thoughtfully hummed and twisted her head from side to side, looking over at her from different angles, before nodding. “You know, I think it looks pretty good!”

Slipping the flower under the band of her veil, Spike picked up the bouquet and brought it in front of her chest. “Alright, now that we’ve got that settled, I think it’s finally time to…”

She froze and cocked her head as a soft melody cut through the air. Either out of sheer luck or cosmic intervention, the singular tune signaled the moment had finally come. Swallowing hard and glancing over at Twilight, she started when she saw her mom rush out of the tent.

Holy cow - it was happening, it was finally happening. Clutching her flowers in a white knuckle grip, she eyed the exit and remained motionless. There was only one thing she could do, the thing she’d spent many sleepless nights fantasizing about, and yet she was filled with a cocktail of dread and excitement so strong that it made her feel faint.

“One step at a time,” she croaked to herself as she walked to the flap in the tent.

Stepping out and into the sunlight, clasping the bouquet in both hands, she walked ahead and down the aisle. Most of Ponyville was in attendance, as well as a great many ponies and creatures besides. Everypony she cared about was there, each of them sitting and turning their heads to watch her, yet she paid them little mind - yes, she cherished each and every one of them, but there was somepony in attendance who demanded her full attention.

Standing idly at one side of the altar, Shaka smiled back at her. His eyes were like glimmering emeralds, his massive build and imposing size made him look like he’d been carved from granite, and his face - stars above, his face was adonic. He was perfection made manifest, and Spike had been smitten with him from the moment they’d first crossed paths.

“Simply exquisite,” he rumbled as she came to rest opposite him.

Spike lifted a hand to caress his cheek, pining to feel his striped hide against her fingers, but she resisted the urge. “T…thanks.”

Trotting up to a small podium that sat to the couple’s side, Celestia extended her wings to either side of herself. “Mares and gentlecolts, welcome. Today, we are here to join Spike the dragoness and Shaka the stallion in holy matrimony. It wasn’t that long ago that…”

Heaving air into her chest, Spike found herself unable to focus on anything but her beloved. Celestia’s speech, the crowd, the chirping birds - anything and everything around her grew muffled and faint, downright trivial compared to the hulking stud looming over her. To say she loved him would be an understatement, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do purely to please him - so much so that she’d agreed to several unique elements of the ceremony at his behest.

“I do, of course I do,” Shaka coolly proclaimed, his voice rich and sonorous.

“And do you, Spike, take this stallion as your husband, to love him, honor him, comfort him, and keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?” Celestia continued, swinging her attention over to Spike.

Spike licked her lips and gulped, yet she managed to squeak out a reply. “O…of course I do…”

“As the Princess of the Sun, I hereby declare you husband and wife,” Celestia curtly exclaimed, bowing and causing the sun the flare just the slightest bit brighter. “In accordance with Zebrican tradition, you may lay claim to one another.”

Zebrican tradition - the phrase set her pulse racing. Zebrican and Equestrian weddings had a number of similarities, but the differences between them were glaring and beyond obscene - literally obscene. The guests all knew what they were in for, having been sent a small primer on the ceremony along with their invitation, and not one of them made an attempt to leave their seat before the ritual was complete.

“Your dress, darling,” Shaka intoned.

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, Spike began unclasping buttons from around her waist. Her gown was anything but standard, having a silhouette that was fully detachable from the bodice, and it had been made for this pivotal exchange. As the billowy fabric drifted down and settled around her feet, her lower half was exposed.

Though she’d foregone any undergarments to speak of, she had worn a set of white leggings and a garter belt for the occasion. A few ponies gasped or murmured to one another, either having neglected to read the warning they’d received or shocked that it hadn’t been a joke, while Shaka reached over and took something from Celestia’s hoof.

“Spike, my dearest, from this moment onward, you are mine and mine alone,” he breathed as he brought a golden ring to the dragon’s groin.

It took everything Spike had not to start fidgeting, but she managed to remain still. For all Shaka’s size and incredible strength, there was a tenderness in his touch as he deftly slipped the metal hoop over her equipment. Staring down in amazement, she stifled a whimper as the material contracted and welded itself over her cock.

It was done, there was no turning back. The chastity cage was one of a kind, attuned to Shaka’s will, and it snuffed out any chances of Spike ever considering herself male in the future - not that she minded. Her cock, if such a useless little thing could even be called, had only ever been used to fuck her fist - even then, the pleasure it gave paled in comparison to what Shaka routinely delivered.

Unable to control herself, she tapped one claw to the unyielding surface covering the tip of her prick. She could barely feel anything at all through the metal, although she wasn’t dismayed in the slightest - if anything, she was elated. Now that she had no choice in the matter, the only way for her to get any sort of gratification would be by ensuring Shaka’s needs were tended to.

“Ahem…” Celestia softly cleared her throat.

Spike snapped back to reality and glanced to her side. Now that the oaths had been sworn, and she was Shaka’s wife, it was time to prove her fealty to him for one and all. Resting her flowers on the altar, she took a large, platinum hoop from Celestia’s hoof and gradually sank down to her knees.

Staying quiet, Celestia levitated the podium aside and replaced it with a sturdy wooden A-frame. The item wouldn’t have looked out of place on a construction site or hardware store, placing function over form, although that was for a very important reason. No sooner was the sturdy structure in place, situated directly between the lovers, than Shaka reared onto his hind legs, shuffled forward, and locked his forehooves over its top beam.

Spike had rehearsed this fateful moment more times than she dared to count, and she was as ready as she’d ever be. Keeping the ring held in her hand, she brought her muzzle to the end of Shaka’s twitching, steadily swelling length. While she wasn’t supposed to dither, she couldn’t help but marvel at her hubby’s endowment.

Shaka’s stallionhood was huge, the sort of thing that would give any but the sluttiest, loosest mares a moment for pause, but the sight of it was electrifying. As long as her leg and nearly as thick as her thigh, the monstrous appendage swayed and pulsed in tune with her lover’s heart. It had taken quite a bit of patience, dedication, and perseverance to accommodate something so profound, although the effort had been worth it.

Leaning in, she closed her eyes and made out with the hoof-sized cock-head before her. The velvety, jet-black skin covering the steely core of Shaka’s shaft felt incredible against her lips, yet that was but one of its many, heavenly features. As she drew a long, deep breath through her nose, bathing her sinuses in his musk, a bead of pre-cum drooled from her imprisoned dick.

His scent was a far departure from any pony she'd ever met. Strong and heady, his natural bouquet was nothing short of intoxicating. Practically huffing the virile aroma, she groaned and ran her tongue around the tip of his shaft. She’d silently hoped he’d abstain from showering that morning, if only so she could clean him during the ceremony, so the flavor of unwashed flesh dancing over her taste buds only fanned the flames of her desires.

She reigned herself in and cracked one eye open to peek out and down his length. Though she couldn’t reach them, his fat, cum-filled balls hung heavily at the base of his shaft. The sheer output of his seed was insane, eclipsing even the most productive stallions around, and the notion that he’d abstained from getting any relief for the better part of a month, storing untold pints of rich, thick foal-batter just for the occasion, threatened to drive her mad with lust.

Leaning back, she opened her muzzle as far as she could and slipped the ring into her maw. Fashioned from the same material as her cage, the enchanted piece of jewelry would resize itself to fit Shaka perfectly - granted, it would serve little functional use, yet anypony and everypony who saw it nestled around the base of his length would understand that he was a taken stallion. She repositioned herself ever so slightly, ensuring things would go off without a hitch, before lifting a hand to gently stroke his belly.

Shaka stirred, stepping forward while she placed her palms on her thighs. On any other day, she would have gladly choked herself on him, but this wasn’t any other day. Unable to wrap her lips around him, having her jaw lodged open by the hoop of metal, she filled her lungs and expectantly relaxed her throat.

The sloppy kiss, unconventional though it was, and bearing her loins for a throng of dozens was the most difficult thing she had to do that day - with that out of the way, all she had to do was try not to gag. Had this been her first time getting her throat swabbed by Shaka, she would have been in dire straits - mercifully for her, the crowd, and her lover, that wasn’t the case. While inch after vascular inch of zebra cock slid down her gullet, her eyelids fluttered wildly.

The hushed whispers of onlookers grew louder and more animated. Were any of them impressed with her skill? Was anypony jealous that she’d managed to bag such a stud for herself? Could any of them throat something so huge as easily as her? With her passion overtaking her reservations, she lifted her hands to the pair of big, meaty balls growing closer and closer to her chin.

Shaka didn’t say a thing while he drove his stallionhood deeper and deeper into her face, what his actions spoke volumes. She couldn’t see his face, only having a view of his undercarriage, but she’d bet her bottom bit that he had a smug grin plastered on his muzzle. This was a right for him, something he’d earned, and he was going to make sure everypony in attendance understood the dynamic of their relationship.

It wasn’t until the impossibly girthy medial ring kissed Spike’s lips that Shaka gave a forceful little buck of his hips. With an all but audible pop, the root of his length forced its way into the metal ring. A lone somepony clapped and whooped in admiration at the small victory, but the show - the real show, was about to begin.

Listing slightly to one side, Shaka looked down to Spike’s face. “Ready?”

Spike went to nod, eager to begin, but the thick shaft lodged in her neck left her immobile. Heaven help her - while it was a small miscalculation, it was enough to tinge her glee with a bit of amusement. Thinking fast, she subtly turned one hand and gave him a thumbs-up.

Ordinarily speaking, had they amongst his tribe in Zebrica, they would have ended there - be that as it may, they’d decided to take a few liberties before the reception. It was their day, nopony else’s, and it was their right to have a bit of fun with it. Ignoring the newly-locked, slavering prick, Spike brought her hands up to her chest as Shaka hauled a fraction of his length free, braced his hind legs, and began lazily thrusting into her snout.

Spike’s neck bulged outward with each thrust as Shaka plowed her face. Though this was far from the first time she’d surrendered her throat to him, there was one key difference to the occasion - she had an audience. As her lover snorted and picked up speed, keeping her starved of any air whatsoever, her mind went blank.

There was a very good chance that somepony in attendance was recording the event, but she didn’t need a camera to know how depraved she must have looked. Knelt down and rubbing her chest, she let herself be used like a living, breathing sex-toy for the gargantuan studs. The reception was going to be interesting to say the least, catching up with her guests after she tidied herself up a bit, although she was curious to see who, if anypony, would be bold enough to directly ask her about the intimate, wholly shameless details of the ceremony.

Her vision blurred and her lungs began to burn as the oxygen in her blood started to run dry. She’d come a long way with Shaka, barely managing to suck the tip of his length without gagging at first, and she was still far from perfect - then again, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever perfect the art of serving such a godly stallion. Listing to one side, she grabbed his fetlock to keep herself from losing balance.

Shaka’s motions faltered and he stepped back. The enormous shaft that appeared from her gullet, slick and glistening in the air, was like a magic act in and of itself. Smears of her lipstick marred his obsidian shaft, visible for anypony to see, while it came into view. It should have been impossible for somepony, pony or otherwise, to fellate a behemoth stallionhood without fainting at best or expiring at worst, yet she’d done so with relative ease.

As soon as his bloated cock-head flopped free from her muzzle, she turned her head and softly coughed into one hand. Her throat was sore, her jaw ached, and she was feeling lightheaded, yet those small inconveniences were rewards for a job well done. She’d long ago stopped focusing on her own pleasure, forsaking any desire for self-serving gratification - instead, her bliss was derived from tending to a stud’s - her stud’s needs.

Backing away, Shaka dipped his head and stroked her cheek with a massive forehoof. “As beautiful as ever.”

As nonsensical as the statement was, Spike swooned. Her lipstick was positively ruined, ropes of saliva and pre-cum dangled from her chin, and tear-streaked mascara ran down her cheeks, but his words moved her. He’d meant it, seeing through her now unkempt exterior to the dragoness she was at her core, and that was one of the many reasons she’d decided to tie the knot with him.

She weakly pushed herself up to kiss him and abruptly stopped herself. A kiss would be the icing on top, a small, perfect garnish to cap everything off, but she had to earn it. Getting her feet under her, she shakily stood, spun on one heel, and clutched the sturdy wooden beam she’d been resting beneath.

The bar was slightly higher than her chest, coming up to her collar, yet that was by design. Shuffling back, she spread her legs and lifted her tail. Most couples would wait for their wedding night to consummate their feelings for one another, but she and Shaka were anything but an usual couple. From their species, sizes, and the galling disparity of their functions, they had next to nothing in common - then again, as the old saying goes, opposites attract.

Peeking over her shoulder at him, she reached back and pulled at one ass cheek. “Buck me,” she silently mouthed while shooting him a wink.

Shaka wasted no time and slammed his forelegs to either side of her shoulders. The sight of her backdoor was her ace in the hole, and she had no reservations about using it to entice him - heck, she’d done so many times before and she would do so many times yet to come. Feeling the immense weight and incredible heat of his stallionhood against her, sawing between her buns and over her back, she stood on her tiptoes and giggled.

Pressing his chest to her back, he rolled his hips back and brought his colossal cock to her entrance. She glanced to the side, drawn by the flash of what had to be a camera, and went rigid. There wasn’t just one pony memorializing the moment, there were dozens. She gnawed her bottom lip, realizing that she’d have pictures and videos of the ceremony to watch, and pushed back against him.

Though she’d cleaned, lubed, and screwed herself on the biggest, thickest dildo she owned to make herself ready, her backdoor resisted the titanic stallionhood. Closing her eyes and resting her weight against the beam, she gradually exhaled. The pressure on her hole mounted, driving her to the brink of madness with anticipation, until it happened. With but the slightest bit of effort, the tiniest exertion of his strength, Shaka grunted and forced his way into her.

The intrusion was heavenly, just as amazing as every other time she’d embraced his cock in her ass, and she came instantaneously from it. Her thighs quaked, a guttural whimper escaped her, and thin, watery spunk gushed from her trapped, wildly twitching prick. Try as she might, in spite of how much practice she had, trying to deny the rapture he delivered was like attempting to stop the tide.

Continuing to ease himself into her quivering depths, he brought his muzzle to her ear. “I win…”

“S…shut up,” she feebly pouted, refusing to look him in the eye.

They’d made a small bet when they’d last spoken, nearly a week ago, and she’d just lost spectacularly. The wager was about how long she’d last in her new cage and how long she’d be able to keep herself from cumming while wearing it. Shaka had boldly claimed that she’d climax as soon as he penetrated her, while she’d proudly stated she’d be able to last a minimum of five minutes of rutting - needless to say, she’d be making him breakfast in bed for the next month straight.

Shaka gave a small short as he began, hauling a fraction of his length free before plunging back into her. Though she couldn’t see it, she could feel her needy hole being stuffed in and dragged out with each of his thrusts. While he gradually increased his pace, the heat of his giant cock warming her from the inside, her thoughts drifted into blissful haze.

The spectators had been relatively well-mannered during the oral, merely whispering to each other, but that changed during the rutting itself. Multiple ponies openly questioned how such a small dragon could fit something so massive inside herself, and a few stifled groans or sinful remarks while they watched her getting her insides rearranged. Hanging her head, Spike peered down at herself and immense bulge rhythmically distending her belly.

She’d thought she’d gone insane when she’d first seen the imprint of Shaka’s stallionhood moving within her abdomen, but she’d slowly grown used to the spectacle. When he was fully hilted with his cum-laden, cantaloupe sized nuts pressed to her comparably dainty coin purse, his cock-head reached all the way up to sternum. She could forgive anypony for finding the sight slightly unsettling, given how extreme it was, although it couldn’t hold a candle to what was coming.

Harder and harder, faster and faster, Shaka plowed her with only the slightest bit of self-restraint. He would have probably been rougher with her, had it not been for the wooden support groaning under their combined weight and the amorous assault. Bringing his muzzle to her collar, he bit down and earned himself a delightest squeal.

The tinge of pain flung her past the threshold for a second time and caused yet more thin jizz to spray from her chastity cage. He’d openly confessed that she wasn’t his first, that she was but the latest in a long line of mares he’d despoiled, but he’d also told her that she wasn’t like the rest - if she hadn’t been, he wouldn’t have committed himself to her. Cautiously releasing the bar, she wantonly squeezed and milked the gargantuan length impaling her.

Only the most well-endowed creatures could get a hand-job while they were fucking somepony - even then, they’d require a mate who was capable of accommodating them without passing out. Stroking him off and tightening up on his backstrokes, she milked him with everything she had. A lesser wife may have fixated on her own bliss, or possibly blacked out, yet she held herself to a higher standard. Her job wasn’t done until she’d earned his seed, and earn his seed she would.

He grunted above her, breathing hard while hammering his hips against her backside. Maybe it was because they were putting on a show, or perhaps his week of abstinence had taken a genuine toll on him - in either case, after only a handful of minutes, she sensed him starting to flare. Wading through her rapture and willing herself to move, she moaned out while slamming her ass back to meet his thrusts.

Her knees buckled, her heart thundered in her bosom, and she endured another two orgasms before Shaka met his climactic end. Lowering and twisting his head, he sank his tongue into her muzzle as he sheathed every inch of his wildly pulsing cock into her. The kiss alone would have made her cum, yet the absolute deluge of scalding foal-batter that surged into her made her ecstasy all the sweeter.

She groaned and struggled not to collapse as her stomach gurgled from the influx of his seed. The sheer output of his cum was always impressive, far more than any pony stallion could manage, and he had a week saved up just for her. Waiting until he broke the kiss to risk a glance down at herself, she marveled at just how fat she’d gotten from a single, incredible load from him.

While she might not have been pregnant, anypony who saw her might have thought otherwise. Her abdomen, normally flat and featureless, sagged heavily beneath her. Nearly hanging to her knees, her belly obscured her nethers and made it easy to picture herself as a dragoness - an actual dragoness. Looking up after he pecked her cheek, she noticed Celestia trotting over to them.

“I was going to save this for the reception, but I think it’ll be more useful now,” the Princess hummed, presenting a neatly wrapped box.

“I - uh - d…do you mind?” Spike wheezed, thrown off guard by addressing Celestia while she was skewered on the thick slab of zebra meat.

Igniting her horn, Celestia unwrapped the gift, opened its lid, and levitated a huge, golden sculpture - no, a golden plug from its cardboard confines. “Should help to avoid a sticky situation.”

“My Princess, I - we’re honored,” Shaka intoned. Backing up and dragging his softening length from Spike’s spasming entrance, he slowed when his flared cock-head pulled at her hole. “On three. One…two…”

Celestia’s timing was impeccable, cramming the oversized toy into Spike’s rump the second Shaka’s tool sprang free from her. The cold metal against her battered pucker wasn’t what she’d call pleasant, but it beat erupting spunk from her tush like a cum volcano. Grabbing the support beam and turning on wobbly legs, she gave a bow to the Princess.

“Thank you,” she rasped, her voice hoarse and raspy.

“It’s my pleasure, Spike, and to you too, Shaka,” Celestia demurely replied, dipping her head to each of them in turn. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be waiting by the wedding cake. Mares and gentlecolts,” she loudly announced, having turned to address the throng, “if everypony would move to the reception area, our happy couple will be kicking off the festivities shortly.”

Bringing one hand back to tap the girthy base of the plug corking her ass, Spike sighed. There was a lot - and she meant a lot to do. Not only did she have to make herself presentable, a fact that would be herculean given her gravid state, but she had to clean up her hubby. As her eyes shot back to her tent, the only refuge she had available, she extended her arm to stroke his foreleg.

“C’mon, dear,” she breathed, prompting him to lead the way, “I’ll take care of you before we join the party.”

Without skipping a beat, Shaka lifted a forehoof and groped her ass. “Blowjob and cake. Honey, you spoil me…”

She tittered like a schoolfilly as she walked alongside him. While she’d initially thought to remove the plug to drain the heaping helping of zebra cum sloshing about in her gut, she promptly changed her mind. Her guests, friends and family alike, should get used to her like this, because it would be far from the last time any of them would see her positively bloated with her loving husband’s foal-batter…

Chapter 2

Spike’s eyes fluttered open, she drew a deep breath, and a smile gradually played across her muzzle. The morning, much like any other as of late, was a welcome one, and she had many reasons to be thankful for it. Her home, her loving husband, the life she was adjusting to - she was grateful for them all, although there was one particular thing she’d grown particularly fond of.

Clenching her pucker around the soft behemoth buried in her, she contentedly hummed and wiggled her tush. It wasn’t every day that she drifted off with Shaka’s stallionhood entombed within her, nor was it often that she awoke while being impaled upon him, although that only made such mornings all the more precious. Turning her head and peeking over her shoulder, she glanced back at the slumbering colossus.

Even while he was fast asleep, Shaka was a sight to behold. The markings on his face and his large, prominent mohawk gave him an intimidating appearance, oftentimes giving ponies who didn’t know him a moment for pause, but she knew better. While he may seem big and bad, what with his hulking physique, sonorous voice, and piercing gaze, he was actually quite the charmer.

She shifted ever so slightly and rolled her hips back to subtly tease another inch or so of his length into herself. Though he was unconscious and anything but fully erect, the sheer size of his endowment allowed her to have some fun while he slept. As his chest rose and fell against her back, warming her and rocking her gently, her eyes drifted over to the nightstand by the bed.

They’d had a number of pictures taken prior to, during, and even after the wedding reception, yet she had a favorite - a favorite that she kept at her bedside as a reminder of her place. Squatted down beneath Shaka, who was only partially in frame, she dreamily peered at the viewer from behind her hubby’s colossal length. She couldn’t put her claw on her, having no way to definitively explain it, but something about the way her lipstick was smeared over his cock, and how she looked so needy, never failed to warm her heart and set her loins ablaze.

Sending a bead of moisture creeping down her inner thigh, she suppressed a giggle. Simply having Shaka’s dick in her ass would have been enough to have her leaking like a broken faucet, getting her wet just like a true mare or dragoness while aroused, although that was anything but an issue. She moved slowly as she pulled the cover upward, taking care not to disturb her lover, and grimaced when she glanced down at herself.

With a frustrated sigh, she released the blanket and began the arduous process of cautiously getting out of bed. On any other day, it would have been a trivial affair to stealthily slip from the mattress - sadly, acting as Shaka’s personal cock-warmer complicated matters exponentially. Reaching out and taking a butt-plug from beside her wedding photo, she slowed and readied herself.

She could almost picture herself as some intrepid archeologist preparing to swap a bag of sand for a treasured idol to prevent a booby trap - granted, her circumstances were exponentially more obscene, but the principal was the same. Bringing the sex-toy under the blanket, she exhaled, crossed the fingers of her free hand, and went for it. Time, patience, and plenty of practice saw her meet with success, allowing her to swap the plug for Shaka’s stallionhood while keeping his load from the night prior sloshing around in her guts, although her job wasn’t finished yet - not quite.

Lazily worming her way to the edge of the bed, she eased herself to the floor and tiptoed to the room’s exit. As nice as it would have been to wile away her morning with him, cuddling him until he eventually got up, she had her wifely duties to consider. She came to a halt in the hallway, silently pulled the door closed behind herself, and exhaled in relief.

Shaka was far more than just a feast for the eyes, and he’d feigned sleeping on a number of occasions, although she was reasonably certain that she’d made a clean getaway this time - she hoped. Sauntering down the hallway and making a beeline toward the kitchen, she wavered as she passed the bedroom. She hadn’t been able to get a good look at herself in bed, both because of the way she’d been laying and due to her cum-swollen belly, but she’d been starting to suspect there was something more going on.

Sauntering into the bathroom, she turned to face the mirror and pursed her lips. While she was very much the same dragon she’d always been, her colors and figure being largely unchanged, there’d been few subtle changes she’d started noticing. As she turned from side to side, keeping one arm lowered while placing her off-hand behind her head, the smile on her muzzle wavered.

She’d initially played it off as her imagination, considering the alternative as impossible, but it was getting harder and harder to deny the facts - she was steadily gaining weight. Her thighs, backside, belly - heck, ever her formerly flat and featureless chest had all plumped up over the last few months. She wasn’t fat by any means, still being slender by most standards, although her curves had become much more prominent than they’d once been.

While most dragonesses would have been elated having a bit of extra bust or butt, she wasn’t the same as most dragonesses. Shaka had fallen in love with a waif little twink, and she shuddered at the thought of becoming unappealing to him. She stormed away and made a mental note to mind her diet, upset with the mere thought of disappointing her beloved.

If she didn’t change something, and change it quickly, she might end up losing the figure . Shaking her head to dislodge the thought, she lowered her gaze. She could forgive her belly, given that it was brimming with at least a solid pint of two of zebra seed, but her chest - no, absolutely not. Grabbing and squeezing the flabby little mounds where once her pecs had been, she faltered.

As crazy as it may have sounded, it was like she was growing a pair of tits - small, relatively unimpressive tits, but tits all the same. Her nipples had grown in size, becoming far more prominent and sensitive, and there was a noticeable amount of pudge that resembled breast tissue. She was no doctor, and she was reluctant to get herself checked out at the clinic, but she was getting increasingly inclined to make sure that nothing was wrong with her - sure, she felt as fit as a fiddle, although getting an exam certainly wouldn’t hurt anything.

Coming into the kitchen, she lifted her head and shook the unpleasant thoughts from her mind. Regardless of the extra pounds she’d put on, she had things that needed to be done. Moving to and opening the refrigerator, she retrieved a carton of eggs and a bottle of milk. By Celestia - she had a husband to care for, and she wasn’t going to let self-pity or fears about her weight stop her from doing just that.

Ever since Shaka had proposed to her, she’d started preparing for her life as a housewife. Seeing as how he was the breadwinner, making bits both from teaching at the School of Friendship and helping in Zecora’s shop, her job was to take care of the house and make his life as stress-free as possible - as such, cooking was an instrumental part of her routine.

Having assembled a number of ingredients on the counter, she donned her favorite apron and set to preparing breakfast. There wasn’t much she couldn’t make, and she was constantly expanding her culinary horizons, but there were always staples. Shaka had a fondness for her pancakes, especially the blueberry ones, so that’s what she was going to make for him.

While she idly mixed the batter, her thoughts wandered. A number of mares had been shocked with her embracing an antiquated sort of relationship, and a few had even tried to talk her out of being a homemaker, but she absolutely loved the life she had. She didn’t have to bust her hump at some crummy job, she never had to worry about bills, and she definitely wasn’t expected to do anything stressful - instead, her only concern was to make sure her precious husband was healthy and happy.

She smiled while she shuffled over and brought the batter over to a heated skillet. Frankly, she thought a lot of mares, particularly the younger ones, had it wrong; if they knew the joy of pleasing a stallion, of being greeted with a smile and a loving kiss when he got home from work, they’d realize what they were missing out on. Carefully pouring what would be the first of several pancakes into the pan, she merrily hummed to herself.

She periodically glanced to the exit while she continued to cook. Shaka was a crafty devil, being shockingly sneaky for a pony his size, and it wouldn’t be long until the smell of flapjacks and sizzling butter shook him from his slumber. There weren’t many things that got him moving faster than a homemade meal, considering he had the body of a giant and an appetite to match, but there was one particular meal he favored above all others.

Sliding one hand over her hip and to her rump, she lifted her tail. There’d been many times when he’d interrupt her cooking by helping himself to an appetizer, feasting on her ass while she attempted to make him dinner, although it had caused a small number of overdone meals in the past. It was his right as a stallion to have her, to make use of her when and where he saw fit, and it felt right.

She knew it was silly, that she wasn’t a genuine mare in any regard, yet being treated as one was a taste of paradise itself. Wearing skirts and dresses, the cage locked to her nethers, learning how to strut around in heels - they were all small prices to pay for the joy Shaka had given her. Smelling the faintest hint of smoke, she hastily collected herself and flipped the pancake before it burned.

The only drawback to being a housewife was that she occasionally had too much free time on her claws. Cooking, cleaning, laundry, and errands only occupied a relatively small part of her waking hours, leaving her to languish in solitude for vast quantities of the day. Idleness is the mother of vice, as the saying went, and she’d learned just how true that was.

Much to her shame, and to Shaka’s ignorance, her lust had grown by leaps and bounds. When she wasn’t busy with her duties, it wasn’t uncommon for her to finger her ass while reading articles about how to please stallions - worse still, if she was feeling particularly frisky, she’d ride one of the dildos she kept stashed away in the guest closet. She knew it was wrong to be so hedonistic, that Shaka should have been all she needed, but what was she supposed to do? It wasn’t like they could laze about fucking from sunup to sundown each and every day!

She cursed and added the finished pancake to the completed shortstack. Fantastic - the day had just started and she was already contending with a mixture of arousal and irritation. Shaka would be leaving for work within the house, and he’d be gone until that afternoon, so her chances of getting laid before his shift was done were slim and none - or were they?

Turning and looking in the direction of the room, she grinned. There was a way she could stack the deck in her favor, but it was going to be a bit of a gamble. Shaka, like every stallion on the planet, had a number of lecherous weaknesses - weaknesses she’d become intimately familiar with. She was sure he’d appreciate the breakfast she’d prepared for him, although there was nothing saying she couldn’t help herself to a special breakfast of her own.

She turned and sauntered into the living room. Nopony would blame her for joining him for breakfast - in fact, many would expect such from a loving wife! With the plate of pancakes in one clawed hand, she strolled past the sofa, picked up a folding table, and continued on her merry way. Shaka may not have known it, but he was in for a very pleasant surprise.

Creeping back into the master bedroom, she came to a halt by the mattress, set the table up, and placed the pancakes atop it. Since the flapjacks were cooling and there was less than an hour before Shaka had to get to work, time was of the essence. As she scampered to the foot of the bed and lifted the blankets, her eyes shot up the mattress and to her target.

Was it wrong to indulge herself in such a perverted way? She’d argue it wasn’t, but that was a matter of debate. He gave her life purpose, a reason for being, and it was her duty - nay, her privilege to ensure all of his needs were fulfilled. Crawling under the blanket, moving quickly but cautiously, she crawled between his parted hind legs.

She was lucky that he’d rolled onto his back, leaving his loins fully exposed, because things would have been significantly trickier if he’d been on his side or, Celestia forbid, his stomach. Bringing her muzzle to his ripe, cum-filled balls, she sharply inhaled through her sinuses. As if she wasn’t already turned on, the scent of his musk and sex wafting off his nethers nearly drove her mad with desire.

No - she had to restrain herself. Doing anything with him while he was sleeping would run the risk of waking him up, and she was not about to bungle this. Repositioning herself ever so slightly, she lowered her head and gingerly pressed her muzzle to the thick folds of flesh between the base of his shaft and his balls. He deserved nothing but the very best, so that’s what he was going to get.

As she dragged her tongue up the underside of his length, tasting the dried remnants of his cum mingled with her ass, her heart beat faster. No matter how many times she’d serviced him, the act never got old - on the contrary, she’d only become more enthralled by him as time had gone on. Was the embodiment of sin, even if he’d never intended to be such a thing, and she’d become addicted to simply pleasing him.

Nearly every creature on the planet, regardless of species, was compelled by their urges, although she couldn’t make such a claim. Shaka’s pleasure was her pleasure, she was gratified purely by having his unfathomable lust directed at her, and the ecstasy she derived from being his mate, from having him do his best to knock her up, was heavenly. Inching up his body, she brought her snout to his hoof-sized cock-head and steadied herself.

There was something particularly naughty about what she was doing, adding an added flair of excitement to the moment. Propped on one arm, she pushed herself up while lifting his titanic length toward her opening sound and extending tongue. She’d never been woken up with a blowjob herself, and she probably wouldn’t ever be, but she knew good and gosh darn well how much her hubby enjoyed getting them.

Wrapping her lips around the tip of his length, she softly moaned while taking him into her maw. The taste of sweat and sex danced over her palate, his velvety flesh glided over her forked tongue, and she could sense his heartbeat through his immense stallionhood. Had there been some way she’d be able to live purely from sucking him off, she would have done so in an instant.

Lower and lower she went, until she kissed his medial ring. He wasn’t even fully hard yet, only being partially erect, yet his endowment could rival or eclipse even the most impressive stallionhoods in Ponyville - heck, all of Equestria. As she steadily bobbed her head and mopped his shaft clean with her tongue and pouting lips, her hand slid down his shaft and to his prodigious coin purse.

Every little detail about him was exquisite, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t have a particular fondness for his balls. The sheer amount of cum he produced was unbelievable, a single load having enough foal-batter to impregnate a mare several times over, and there wasn’t a day that passed when she didn’t look forward to earning a heaping helping of his incredible seed. Choking on his cock, unable to make a sound, she forced herself downard and pressed her nose against his groin.

Despite the many times she’d hilted him in her muzzle, she still felt proud for being able to throat the entirety of his length. A surprising number of ponies, both mares and stallions alike, had complimented her skill after her wedding. Though it was a bit embarrassing to be known about town as the dragoness without a gag reflex, she wore the title with pride.

She remained with her snout grinding against his nethers for as long as she could before she withdrew. With the majority of his shaft still entombed in her gullet, she came to an abrupt halt as she glanced up at him. While a smile gradually split his muzzle, his gleaming eyes stayed transfixed on her face.

Darn - she’d realized she was playing with fire, that he could wake up at any second, but she’d hoped he would have stayed asleep for just a bit longer. He didn’t speak, he didn’t move - heck, he barely blinked as he peered down at her with a silly little grin on his face. Torn between continuing where she’d left off or backing away to greet him properly, she begrudgingly withdrew and freed her snout.

“M…morning,” she murmured, sensing her face darken.

Shaka smiled all the broader as he leaned in and lazily drew a hoof across her cheek. “Morning, my sweet.”

“Sorry,” she sighed, “I couldn’t help -”

Gingerly touching his hoof to her lips, Shaka silenced her. “No need to apologize for giving me a wealth of options.”

“Options?” she repeated while quirking a brow.

“You seem to have me at an impasse,” he chuckled. Looking from the stack of pancakes beside him to her upturned rump, he licked his lips. “Flapjacks or cake - decisions, decisions…”

Suddenly finding herself at a crossroads, Spike found herself torn. On one claw, the self-indulgent claw, she was tempted to spin around and present her ass - on the other, she yearned to do something a bit more romantic. Acting on her intuition, she languidly crawled up his body, up to his chest, and seated herself on his abdomen.

“I hadn’t picked yet,” he snickered, flexing his groin and causing his cock to settle in the cleft of her tush.

Ignoring the weight and heat of the colossal tool lodged between her buns, she twisted and carved a forkful of pancake. “Say aaaaaaaah.”

He opened his mouth and did as she’d asked, allowing her to feed him. A morsel of pastry, dripping with syrup and steaming in the air, was cautiously guided into his muzzle and onto his tongue by her small, dainty hands. The list of things they’d done together was perilously short, but feeding him in such an affectionate way was definitely a first.

Chewing and swallowing the bite, he ate several more mouthfuls before holding up his hoof. “What did I do to deserve you?”

She opened her mouth out of instinct, although his question briefly left her at a loss for words. “Honestly, I should be the one asking that…”

What had she done to deserve this? Had he merely been attracted to her because of her looks? Could she have said something that piqued his interest? Maybe he’d always had a fondness for less-than-masculine dragons? Momentarily setting the fork down on the plate, she leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose.

Snaking a foreleg behind her head before she could pull away, he locked lips with her and drove his tongue into her muzzle. The faint hint of blueberry and maple syrup made the kiss all the more exotic, although she scarcely paid it any mind. She closed her eyes and gave herself to him, savoring him for who and what he was.

It was a genuinely romantic and heartfelt scene. Sitting atop her husband, her king, Spike lovingly fed him a breakfast that had been made with the utmost care. From an outsider’s perspective, the pair were nothing more than a couple whose love for one another outshone their myriad of differences.

Feeling his dick growing harder with each passing second, she pulled back and broke the kiss. “Don’t want these to get cold,” she noted, turning to pick up her fork.

Placing a forehoof atop her arm, Shaka stopped her. “Only if you help me finish them.”

She glanced down at her distended belly. “I…I think I’m good…”

Following her gaze, he snickered. “Come now, looking like that, you may be eating for two.”

Though his comment was made in jest, he stuck a cord of melancholy within her. She would have given anything to bear him a foal, but such a thing was impossible. Even with her disused, all but vestigial package, little more than a decoration or ornament, she couldn’t give him an heir. As she slowly hung her head, her libido crumbled to ash.

Shaka was many things, but a fool he was not. Bringing a hoof under her chin, he lifted her face. “What’s wrong?”

For an instant, she considered lying to him, telling him that she was perfectly fine, although she quickly thought better of it. He could tell when even small things had gotten under her skin, and it was obvious that he’d noticed her enthusiasm wither to nothing. Forcing a smile, she rubbed his foreleg.

“It’s just…” she warily began. “It’s just that I wish I could do more for you…”

“Babe,” he breathed, pulling her upward to fully embrace her, “you do more for me than anypony ever has or ever will. Trust me, there isn’t a soul on the planet who I’d rather be with…”

His words were a soothing balm, warming her heart and lifting her spirits. Cradling his big, handsome face in her hands, she rubbed noses with him. It was beyond comforting that he accepted her, and that gave her all the more reason to do everything she could for him. Glancing over at the clock, only then recalling that he had to work that day, and frowned.

Shaka cursed under his breath as he turned his head and checked the time. “Darn it.”

Acting with care and speed, he deftly lifted Spike off his chest and sat her down beside himself before lifting the plate of pancakes. In the blink of an eye, the remainder of his breakfast vanished. She’d seen him eat more times than she could count, both in casual and formal settings, but watching him wolf down over a pound of food in seconds was slightly disconcerting.

“W…wait,” she bleated. Shooting forward, she rubbed a dab of syrup from his chin. “There…”

He stared down at her, blinked, then broke into a fit of laughter. “I’m not late enough to skip my shower - speaking of which, care to join me?”

While the offer was innocent enough, she was keenly aware that it was potentially a trap - maybe not an intentional trap, but still something to be cautious off. Bathing with him, no matter the precise circumstances, almost always ended up with them getting exquisitely dirty before either one of them got clean ~ and why wouldn’t it? Keeping their claws or hooves to themselves while around one another was one of the most difficult challenges they faced, to the point where they’d thrown inhibition to the wind and rutted like wild beasts at their very wedding!

Easing himself off the bed, Shaka got to his hooves and meandered to the bathroom. “Coming?”

Spike had been about to clean up, making the bed and bringing the dirty plate back to the kitchen, although Shaka’s question immediately altered her plans. He wanted her to join him in the shower, so she’d join him in the shower - it was as simple as that. There was a darn good chance that his request would bite him in the butt, practically guaranteeing he’d end up being late, but that wouldn’t be her fault.

Hurrying past him, she took the lead with a sway in her deliciously ample hips. “Still wanting some cake?”

She finished the small tease by playfully slapping her tush. This was how things always played out, with them flirting or tempting one another until somepony broke, and it was as fun as it was thrilling. Sometimes Shaka won out, goading her into fucking herself on him, but some of the time - most of the time, she was the one who ended up provoking him into amorous action.

“Bold,” he mused, trotting by her and to the tub, “coming from somepony who seems to be in the mood for a creampie herself.”

“Guilty,” she giggled, pressing herself to his side, “but can you blame me? I’d hate for my big, loving hubby to go all day at work without any relief.”

Setting the water to warm, he stepped into the basin and grunted. “Don’t worry, if it becomes too much to bear, I’ll just excuse myself to the bathroom or ask one of my fellow professors if they’d be willing to help me with some extracurricular activities.”

Spike shook her head and quietly tsked. “Have fun explaining why they’re walking funny, if they’re walking at all - besides, we both know you wouldn’t do that.”

“Oh?” Shaka hummed. “And what makes you so sure that I wouldn’t?”

Swinging a leg over the tub’s rim, Spike came up behind him. “Because it’s not like anypony else knows how to press your buttons like I do.”

She drew her tongue over her lips as she eyed his backside. While their dynamic was basically set in stone, with her exclusively bottoming for him, she wasn’t above debasing herself to prove her worth. Standing on her tiptoes, she massaged his thighs while kissing the thick, velvety pucker between his muscular ass cheeks.

Eating his ass was one of many activities she’d developed a literal and figurative taste for. The bouquet of his rear was vastly more potent than his package, so strong that it could make her lightheaded, but it had grown on her. Running her tongue over the velvety flesh of his backdoor, she groaned and pawed at his beefy flanks.

“I suppose I’ll let you clean back there,” he clucked.

“Mm-hmm,” she moaned as she practically stuffed her muzzle into him.

He had no interest in being on the receiving end of anything, although this was a bit different. Rimming was a universally pleasant activity, something anypony would enjoy, even if a great many straight stallions weren’t adventurous enough to try it. As he spread his hind legs and took a broad stance, her hands glided around and between his thighs to fondle his weighty balls.

This - this was what she lived for. There wasn’t a thing he could ask of her that she wouldn’t do - she’d know, she’d thought about the subject extensively. If or when the day came that he wanted to fuck her in public, she’d happily bend over and grab her ankles. Should he ever invite some friends over to gang-bang her, she’d give herself to them without question. In every way but legally, she was his property, and she embraced her role with open arms.

Hungrily slurping and ravishing his tail-hole, she only paused when he cleared his throat. “I - um - I think I missed a spot…”

He laughed and pinched the bridge of his snout when she leaned over to look at his face. “Funny, but I’m afraid it’s time to move on.”

She wanted to complain, to press her luck and pick up where she’d left off, but she abstained. Regrettable though it was, one of them had to hold down a job. Sliding between him and the wall, she squirmed her way up to his head and picked up a bottle of shampoo. There was no real reason for her to be crestfallen, knowing he’d be home after the school day was finished, yet the petulant, needy part of her pined to fritter about her day with him from the moment they awoke to when they ultimately drifted off to sleep with each other.

Peering down at her, he lowered his head. “Not going to ask why it’s time to move on?”

“Work - duh,” she huffed, lathering and lifting her hands to his face.

He gingerly seized her by one wrist and stopped her. “That too, but I wouldn’t have time to rut you if you kept rimming me…”

As she went motionless as her mind started to race. To the best of her reckoning, they only had roughly half an hour before his shift started, so anything they did would have to be done quickly. To Tartarus with it - a quickie was far from ideal, but it was sure as heck better than nothing! Resting her back against the wall above the spigot and below the showerhead, she threw her arms to either side of herself.

They’d christened their home in every way imaginable, screwing like rabbits atop every piece of furniture that could support them and in each room, and the bathroom was no exception. Shaka snorted, rose to his hind legs, and placed his forehooves above Spike’s head. Though they’d need to move swiftly, that hardly meant they wouldn’t be able to scratch their respective itches before they parted ways.

Spike grabbed Shaka’s forelegs while swinging her ankles up to his hips. Standing missionary was far from her favorite position, yet she wasn’t about to let that stop him. Bearing down and setting her jaw, she pushed the thick plug from her ass before raising her waist for him.

The warm air against her gaped entrance lasted only a second, but it served as an unpleasant reminder of her purpose. Whether it was with a sex-toy or ideally Shaka’s stallionhood, her backdoor was supposed to be filled. While it may not have been a genuine necessity, and she was willing to go out and about without being plugged, not having something stretching her open simply felt wrong - thankfully, her lover made sure she rarely went wanting.

He didn’t say a word as he shuffled forward, nudged the tip of his length against her slack hole, and plunged into her. Her eyes rolled as she gave a guttural whimper of delight. She honestly didn’t know what she’d do if they ever broke up, because there weren’t many, if any stallions who’d ever be able to fill more than just the hole that would be left in her heart.

“Buck,” she groaned as his medial ring slid over her p-spot.

“Hope you’re ready,” he growled, steadying himself, “because I’m going to ruin that cunt of yours…”

Before he finished speaking, he started fucking. This wasn’t the tender lovemaking of newlyweds, nor was it a casual tryst of an affectionate couple - this was bestial. Shaka held nothing back, seemingly attempting to plow her through the wall, while she squealed and mewled like a lucky filly.

Milking his jackhammering cock, Spike licked and kissed his heaving chest. “H…harder, daddy. Make - Aaaagh - make me your mare.”

Shaka snarled and obliged her, increasing the speed and force of his thrusts. Calling him daddy was one of her many tricks, just like how he referred to her ass as a cunt or a pussy. They knew one another inside and out, having developed an almost preternatural insight on each other’s kinks, and it paid off for moments like this when time was of the essence.

“Gonna - Nnnph - make a broodmare of you yet,” he rumbled, shifting the angle of his plunges to rail the cum out of her.

Sure enough, seconds after he shifted, she howled out and climaxed. Impotent jizz erupted over the underside of her belly and flowed down between her thighs. He often joked that her caged prick was only useful as a lube dispenser, having no other function, and he wasn’t wrong. Even when she wasn’t enduring an orgasm, there was a nearly constant flow of pre-cum oozing from her imprisoned loins.

Though she’d just cum, still reeling from the blinding ecstasy threatening to strip her of her consciousness, she rebounded to a second climax. She really couldn’t say if other ponies, mares or otherwise, could have their refractory period erased by a stallion, but such was the case with Shaka - especially when he unleashed his full carnal fury upon her. It was a darn good thing that her body had adapted over the months, being able to move from muscle memory alone, because she would have collapsed otherwise.

She loved the way he demeaning way Shaka referred to her ass as a cunt, just like she loved how he fucked her like a sex-toy, and the fact that he started calling her his broodmare was the cherry on top. Instances like these, when she already looked pregnant from the sheer volume of his seed inside her, were enough to make her forget about her lack of a womb. Wracked with rapture that defied all reasoning, she brayed to the heavens.

The one downside to enduring the amorous might of her lover was that she truly did endure it. On more than one occasion, she’d passed out while he hammered away at her, and it took everything she had to cling to the waking world in this instance. Biting her bottom lip to center herself, she ravenously squeezed his massive cock.

His rut-lust was insatiable, lasting for what felt like an eternity and driving her from one climax to another, yet it eventually came to an end. Burying his shaft and giving a primal roar, he came. As his balls snuggled up to his groin, wave after wave of seething, virile foal batter surged through his pulsing, flaring length.

Already full from the night prior, with only the smallest amount of cum leaking out after her plug had been removed, Spike’s stomach gurgled and steadily grew. She could have passed for an expectant dragoness before, yet the influx made her appear positively gravid, brimming with an entire clutch of eggs, and that’s what sent her over the edge. WIth her grip of consciousness becoming tenuous, she went limp and hung off his stallionhood.

Shaka slipped a foreleg around her chest to support her as he withdrew and lowered her to the basin. “You ok?”

Giving him a shaky thumbs-up, she nodded. “Uh…uh-huh…”

“Mind if I finish up? I would stay, but I’d rather not explain to my students why I’m late,” he mumbled.

“G…go - Cough - ahead,” she wheezed.

With nowhere else to go and nothing better to do, not for the least of which reasons being his monstrous flair being locked in her depths, she glanced to the side while he washed himself above her. There’d be plenty of time to take a shower after he left, and she’d bagged him a lunch the night before, so she really wasn’t that bothered - at least, she wasn’t initially. Spying the plug resting beside her, she squinted.

The gift that Celestia had given her was a blessing in every way. Not only was the toy priceless, being crafted of precious metals and with a gem set in its base, but it felt fantastic in her rear. As she eyed the artfully crafted plug, her brow knit. It hadn’t lasted long, gone so quick that she may have imagined it, but it almost looked like the thing had glowed for a moment…

Chapter 3

“Oh wow,” Spike breathed as she stepped back to get a better look at the expansive crib.

“Rarity picked out the color,” Applejack noted.

Smiling broadly, Spike turned to face her friends. Twilight, Applejack, Rarity, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, and Pinkie Pie sat or stood around her. She’d had no doubt that they’d accept the invitation to her egg shower, especially because it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to get around easily, although the sight of them, as well as the gifts they’d brought, warmed the depths of her heart.

As her eyes drifted from the cradle down to her belly, a contented sigh escaped her. She’d fantasized about siring Shaka a foal or two, yet she’d always assumed such a thing would be impossible - fortunately for her, she’d been proven wrong. Clenching around the thick plug in her tush, she snickered.

What she’d presumed was a mere wedding gift, the sex-toy that Celestia had given her, was anything but. While she didn’t fully understand it, in spite of Twilight explaining it several times, the butt-plug had been heavily enchanted by none other than the Princesses, all four of them, to ensure her wish would become a reality.

“Jeez - Spike, just how many eggs do you even have in there?” Pinkie giggled.

Spike caressed her abdomen while lifting her gaze to the party pony of renown. “Three.”

“Maybe four,” Twilight chimed in. “It’s hard for us to be entirely sure, considering they have a tendency to shift around.”

Brushing a lock of mane from her face, Rarity beamed. “Spike, dearest, are you sure I couldn’t convince you to model some maternity items for me? I may not have that many draconic customers, and fewer still with your - Ahem - unique traits, but you’d look simply ravishing strutting the runway in one of my dresses.”

Spike’s cheeks darkened as she ground her thighs together. “T…thanks, Rarity, but I don’t think that -”

“You should,” a sonorous voice intoned. Everypony present, including the singular, scaled non-pony, turned as Shaka saw himself into the living room. “A maternal beauty like yourself should be proud to show herself off.”

“She is pretty hot,” Pinkie chirped. Scampering over to Spike’s side, she buried her face in the blushing dragon’s budding cleavage. “Shf mmmph nnf mphmph!”

Rocking back to her haunches, Applejack pinched the bridge of her snout. “Ya know we can’t understand you, Pinkie ~ right?”

Pinkie withdrew and grinned from ear to ear. “I said she’s even got boobies!”

“Speaking of which,” Rarity exclaimed as she levitated a gift bag from the Carousel Boutique into the air, “here you are. These should fit you - at least for the time being.”

“Let me guess,” Spike began as she plucked the parcel from the air, “a bra?”

Rarity’s knowing smirk affirmed her suspicions, though she couldn’t help but take a peek at the undergarment. After opening the bag and thrusting a clawed hand inside, she felt not one or two but at least four brassieres. It should have come as no surprise that the couture would leap at the opportunity to craft something new, having mares and quadrupeds for most of her business, although it was still a bit jarring to be given a king’s ransom in lingerie.

“I took the liberty to give each of them removable nursing pads, if only so you can avoid getting too leaky while in public,” Rarity added.

“Are - um…” Fluttershy mumbled.

Spike peaked a brow over at the softspoken mare. “Are…?”

Shaking her head, Fluttershy kept her eyes on the floor. “N…nevermind…”

“Flutters wants to know if you’ll try them on,” Rainbow Dash groaned from the sofa. “She’s been talking constantly about how she wants to see you nurse your foals or dragons or whatever once they’re - Mmmph?!”

Having sailed across the room, Fluttershy clamped a hoof over Dash’s muzzle. “I d…didn’t say any of t…those things…”

“Uh-huh,” Spike softly grunted. She had to believe that there’d been a grain of truth in what Dash had said, given Fluttershy’s beet red face and haste to defend herself, but she wasn’t bothered - in fact, she was actually quite flattered. “Fluttershy, do you want me to try one of them on?”

“N…no,” Fluttershy muttered before lowering her voice to a faint whisper. “M…m…maybe…”

Keeping the bag in her hand, Spike turned and lazily made for the exit. “Alright, alright - twist my arm,” she joked while waving back at the mares. “I’ll be right back.”

“Mind if I -” Shaka was silenced as Spike walked by and pressed a finger to his lips.

“You stay right here and entertain our guests, mister,” Spike huffed.

She didn’t even look at him while she continued toward the bedroom - not because she didn’t love him with all her heart, nor because she didn’t want to spend time with him, but because she knew good and gosh darn well that any privacy with him, regardless of whether they had visitors or not, would result in one thing and one thing only - obscenity. Her libido had always been what she’d considered healthy, and it had only gotten stronger after she’d met Shaka, yet it had become downright maddening as her pregnancy had progressed. Sex was almost constantly on her mind, she was in a constant state of arousal, and she’d learned that she couldn’t trust herself around her big, strong, fat-cocked…

“No,” she grumbled to herself. “I am going to behave today…”

The words gave her little comfort as she entered her room and closed the door behind herself. Simply seeing her bed and smelling the stallionly musk lingering in the air was enough to set her heart fluttering, but she wasn’t going to fall victim to her hormonally driven compulsions. Twilight and her friends had gone for the day, she was going to abstain from doing anything lewd.

Coming to a halt before her vanity, she sat the bag down and lifted her hands to the collar of her shirt. She’d never been the biggest fan of wearing clothing, excluding on special occasions or if she was trying to seduce Shaka, although she’d become increasingly self-conscious about her appearance. As she removed and flung the piece of attire to the side, her eyes drifted back to her reflection.

Two years prior, before she’d met Shaka, she wouldn’t have recognized herself. Her height, the color of her scales, and her eyes were unchanged - the same couldn’t be said for the rest of her. Even with the added weight of the three large eggs gestating within her, she’d packed on a considerable number of pounds over the last few months. Running a hand down her waist and to her hip, she sighed.

Yeah, she’d put on more than a few pounds, and most of it had accumulated in two places. Her once slender legs had grown considerably, with her thighs becoming so plump that they rubbed together when she walked, although they couldn’t hold a candle to her backside. She turned in place, looked over her shoulder at the vanity, and scrunched her snout indignantly.

To put it bluntly, she’d developed quite a kaboose. She used to be proud of her slender figure, pleased as punch with her slim, twink-like physique, although now she was torn. While Shaka absolutely adored her big, pillowy rear, it was odd being so - well, shapely. Placing her hands on her knees, she cautiously bent over and lifted her tail.

The soft, doughy mounds of her rump concealed the plug lodged in her - which was a bit of a mixed blessing. Yes, her ample backside prevented Twilight and the gang from knowing she’d been traipsing about all morning with a sex-toy in her ass, yet having a big, fat ass wasn’t something she was used to. She told herself that she’d shed the weight after she birthed her clutch, that she’d join a gym and mind her diet until she was back to her usual, svelte self, although that was much easier said than done.

Grunting as she straightened up, she faced the mirror and brought her hands to her chest. Even if she was able to regain her athletic physique, there were certain parts of her that couldn’t be changed so easily. Her initial assumption about her breasts, as outlandish as it had been, was ultimately proven completely correct. Resting atop her taut, distended belly, two squishy, extraordinarily sensitive tits had developed.

“Great,” she groused, seeing white beads form on her nipples.

Dragon whelps didn’t normally breastfeed, but the unusual nature of her pregnancy had ensured that her unborn young would have plenty of milk to drink. Twilight’s best guess was that the uniqueness of her situation had given her a chimeric mix of traits, but she’d stopped trying to understand it. She was a dragoness who used to be a male, she had a pair of tits, and she was less than a month away from delivering a trio of eggs, so logic and rationality were two of the only things that were lacking from her life.

She snatched up a tissue and wiped away the twin rails of milk rolling down her stomach. “Stupid - Nnnf.”

Sweet Celestia - even touching her nipples was enough to send a bolt of pleasure through her. Just like that, irrespective of her intentions to abstain from anything lecherous, her mind was assailed by a wave of depravity. Her lactating tits, hefty booty, chubby thighs, and mood swings were all a tremendous headache, although they came with a silver lining - a long, thick, vascular silver lining…

Lurching forward and steadying herself on the vanity, she bucked her hips and milked the butt-plug while squeezing one tit. It was a darn good thing she’d told Shaka to stay put, because she would have been all over him if he’d been in the room - that was, if he hadn’t been all over her first. She’d always assumed that the passion between her and her husband would stabilize after they’d tied the knot, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

The moment they’d gotten confirmation that she’d be having a clutch, it was like a switch had been flipped. Shaka might not have been able to get her more pregnant than she already was, although that hadn’t stopped him from trying! While she would have had every right to be annoyed with his continual advances, nearly having to fend him off with a stick at times, she was just as, if not more horny than he was at any given time.

Sensing pre-cum leaking down her leg, she set her jaw and reigned herself in. “Nope - not gonna do it…”

She’d never been all that religious, but that didn’t stop her from asking for strength from a higher power. Between her rampant lust and Shaka’s willingness to fuck her at any opportunity, she was a mess - heck, even simple things like going shopping or to pay a bill with her hubby often resulted in them sneaking into a bathroom or back alleyway for a quickie! Wrestling control of herself, she snorted and grabbed one of the bras Rarity had given her.

“Just gotta…” she breathed while wriggling into the garment.

With the brassière securely around her chest, she held one hand behind her head and turned her shoulders from side to side. She had a number of bras, yet none of them fit as comfortably or looked as nice as the one she’d just received. As she cupped her bosoms and winked at her reflection, her priorities gradually shifted.

Would Twilight and the mares really be bothered if she took a few minutes to get back? Shaka was keeping everypony company, they all had plenty to talk about, and it wasn’t like there weren’t snacks and sweets available for the occasion - besides, for as gravid as she was, she’d be justified in taking an extended restroom break. Glancing over at her nightstand, she grinned.

Buck it - a quickie to clear her head wouldn’t be the worst thing she could do ~ right? Rushing to her bedside, she leaned forward, reached beneath the piece of furniture, and wrapped her fingers around a long, thick length of silicone. It was exceedingly rare for Shaka not to satiate her, although there had been times when he wasn’t available - because of that, she’d made a few purchases to keep herself busy.

She’d bought and subsequently discarded a number of dildos over the last year, and the one she held was the only one she’d found that could even come close to scratching her amorous itch. The toy was apparently modeled after some Zebrican porn star of renown, although it couldn’t ever compare to what Shaka had to offer. For starters, a lifeless piece of silicone didn’t feel as good as the real deal - secondly and even more prudently, there was more to consider than just having a stuffed hole.

Holding the toy in both hands, she knit her brow. Before she’d gotten knocked up, screwing herself would have been a trivial affair, something she could do in any number of positions, but her added weight and hindered mobility did away with that. She made her decision quickly, settling on a tried and true technique that she could use to get off, clean up, and get back to her friends and lover before raising anypony’s suspicions.

Fast - if there was one thing she needed to do, should she wish to get some relief before going back out to show off her new bra, it was act fast. Hurrying down to the foot of the bed, she dropped the toy onto its broad, weighted base, stepped over the pillar-like shaft, and exhaled. There was more than enough cum and lube in her ass to have her slick enough to handle nearly anything, although that wouldn’t do her any good until she took care of a particular, golden obstruction.

“Hnnnngh,” she grunted, exhaling as she pushed the plug out of herself.

Landing with a dull thud, the toy rolled to one side and came to rest against one leg of the bed. She’d never weighed the plug, nor had she taken the time to measure its exact dimensions, but it did a darn fine job at keeping her loose and ready for action at a moment’s notice - not to mention it was the reason why she’d been able to get knocked up in the first place. She made a mental note to thank Celestia for the umpteenth time while she gradually squatted down.

Barely slowing as the dildo’s girthy head sank into her, she crept lower and lower. Most creatures, particularly creatures her size, would have been hard pressed to accommodate a sex-toy as large as she steadily impaled herself on - lucky for her, she wasn’t most creatures. Shaka had remade her in body and mind, molding her into the perfect little broodmare, and she couldn’t have been more pleased with who and what she’d become.

She lifted her gaze as the medial ring ground against her tender p-spot and looked over at a standing mirror situated against the wall. With her legs obscenely splayed, a glint of gold from between her pudgy thighs was only barely visible. Her cage was one of her greatest treasures, a permanent testament to what she’d lost and gained by marrying Shaka, and it slavered pre-cum to the floor beneath her.

Gliding her hands up her stomach and to her chest, she wantonly fondled her tits as she started to move. The sight of herself riding the toy, seeing the obsidian length smoothly sliding in and out of her well-trained cunt was deliciously inspirational. Try as she might not to become arrogant, she was grounded enough to admit that she looked good - darn good, and she wasn’t the only one who held that sentiment.

It wasn’t uncommon for her to catch stallions eyeing her while she was running errands or out and about before she’d gotten married, although that had become the norm after she’d gotten hitched and properly bred. Studs of all ages and species would sneak glances at her when they thought she wasn’t looking, and it thrilled her to no end. While she’d done nothing more than muse on the idea, idly thinking about it while bored or particularly aroused, she felt certain she could make a comfortable living as a call mare or working in a burlesque house.

She momentarily slowed to haul her bra upward. Her breasts clung to the garment for a moment before flopping free and swaying with her rhythmic movements. Nopony could give her any insight on how large her tits would get, or if they’d get any bigger at all, although a part of her quietly hoped she’d eventually have a pair of massive, engorged udders that would really turn heads wherever she went.

Leaning back and pressing her shoulders against the foot of the bed, she hastened her pace while tweaking and lightly tugging on her nipples. With her clit out of the picture, having been locked away and disused for months on end, she could experience what it was like to be a true dragoness - granted, actual dragonesses didn’t have breasts, but that wasn’t her problem. She was on the fast track to becoming the hottest MILF in Ponyville, her body gave her pleasure that she couldn’t have imagined was possible, and she had the best husband, family, and friends in the whole wide world.

“Nnnf…aaah…buck,” she whimpered, chasing her climax and getting closer with every plunge of her hips.

Even before she had several buns in her oven, riding a toy had been one of her favorite ways of getting off. She typically did the deed by herself, when she was left to her own devices and without her big-dicked hubby to help, although that wasn’t always the case. Like any good housewife, she’d occasionally perform for her lover.

Bouncing her fat ass on a dildo was only going to be a temporary solution, although it should - should sustain her until Twilight and the gang left. She really liked visiting with her mom and friends - still, there was a darn good reason why she and Shaka had gotten a home for themselves. Dwelling on all the times and in all the exotic ways her hubby had taken her, from long, tender nights of lovemaking in bed to ruthlessly plowing her on the washing machine, she skyrocketed toward release.

“Having fun…?”

The deep, dulcet tone tore her back to the present and sent her mind into a tailspin. As she came to an instantaneous, shuddering halt, her head whipped toward the door and the source of the noise. At some point or another, though she couldn’t fathom precisely when, Shaka had let himself in, slinked up to her side, and decided to enjoy the hedonistic show she was putting on.

“Well?” he calmly and quietly urged, towering over her while cocking his head slightly.

With her mouth going dry and throat constricting, she licked her lips. “H…how long h…have you been in here?”

“Does it truly matter?” he smoothly countered. “I was going to ask if you needed help putting on one of those bras, but I can see you had other activities in mind,” he snickered. Extending and drawing a massive forehoof up her neck and to her chin, he lifted her face. “Naughty, naughty little thing.”

Her eyes rolled back, her toes curled, and a small gout of thin, pearly spunk weakly dribbled from her cage. Whether it had been his intention to give her a ruined orgasm, making her cum by catching and lovingly bullying her, was anypony’s guess - still, his domineering presence and playful demeanor was enough to push her past the brink. She couldn’t have said anything if she tried, her sole focus being not to collapse or start mewling, while she glanced over and clamped a hand over her muzzle.

Following her gaze, Shaka looked to the doorway. “Better keep your voice down…”

Oh heck - oh crap? Why ~ why in the world had Shaka left the door cracked open?! Anypony trotting by would be able to see her in a very compromising position if they peeked into her room! Nonplussed, unsure of what to say or do, she swung her eyes upward and to his adonic face.

“Go on,” he hummed, “you may continue.”

The euphoria clouding Spike’s mind was dispelled by apprehension and annoyance. She had climaxed, although it was far from what she’d consider an ideal one - even one derived from a molded piece of silicone. Bringing her claws to the end of the bed, she pushed herself up and unsheathed herself from the toy.

Shaka shied back and pursed his lips. “Not going to finish?”

“I did finish,” she huffed as she leaned forward and peered beneath the bed. Spying the golden plug just out of reach, she gave an exasperated sigh. “Could you get - Eeep!”

She managed to stifle the startled yelp by muzzling herself with a hand. As she grabbed one of the bedposts to steady herself, something hot and decidedly wet was drawn up her taint and to her slack, twitching entrance. Even in her irritated, post-orgasmic state, she knew good and gosh darn well that Shaka had decided to do more than simply spectate.

“Q…quit it,” she protested while tapping her thick tail against the top of his head.

A pang of regret shot through her as Shaka did as she’d asked and backed away, but she’d been given little choice. The door was left partially open, several of her oldest, most cherished friends were just a room or two away, and she didn’t have time for these games. It pained her - mercy be, it pained her to stop Shaka from not taking her right then and there, but indulging him wouldn’t end well for anypony.

Standing up and wheeling around to face him, she went rigid. Shaka hadn’t moved far, still towering above her like a literal goliath, although his expression had shifted slightly. While he’d appeared amused moments prior, now there was a steely look in his eye.

“What if I don’t?” he rumbled. “What if - oh, I don’t know - I pick you up, throw you on the bed, and have my way with you?”

Spike’s heart skipped a beat and a thrill shot through her. “B…but Twilight and -”

“Your mother would expect me to tend to your needs ~ would she not?” Shaka softly interrupted as he inched toward her. “As a matter of fact, I believe she’d be quite disappointed if she discovered that her daughter was so needy, so desperate that she snuck off to plow herself during her own egg shower.”

Though her jaw flapped and pupils shrank, Spike couldn’t find her voice. Was this some sort of trick? Could he actually be considering screwing her while there was company within earshot? What would Twilight say or do if she caught them in the act? Though it was all a bit silly, given that she’d been publicly railed at her wedding, there was a big, big difference between an official ceremony, lewd or otherwise, and somepony sneaking off to get their brains fucked out while at their own party!

Closing the gap between them, Shaka pressed her back to the foot of the bed. “So,” he continued, lowering his head, “to stay in my mother-in-law’s good graces, allow me to give you some real satisfaction…”

Worming his muzzle between her thighs, he lifted her off her feet and guided her onto the mattress. The bed was tall, standing so high that she ordinarily needed a stepping stool to get on the thing, although it was perfectly sized to fit one gargantuan stallion and his small, affectionate mate. Spike gulped as she looked down, locked eyes with him, and watched his tongue run over his big, pillowy lips.

“You are my wife, I respect you more than virtually anypony on the planet, and that’s why I’ll leave you with a choice,” Shaka whispered. “Either we leave now, pretend this didn’t happen, and you show off that cute little bra, or you spread your legs, show me that succulent pussy of yours, and have me show you what a real good time is…”

“I…I…” Spike stammered.

Her better judgment told her she should halt things then and there, to control herself until her company had departed, yet the most primal parts of her mind beseeched her to push the envelope. She was completely aware that doing anything with him was an egregiously bad idea, that she wouldn’t be able to keep herself quiet and that her protracted absence would court disaster - nevertheless, the temptation coursing through her was palpable. Grappling with her indecision, Shaka kissed his way up her inner thigh and to her belly.

“So big, so motherly,” he purred. “How many foals would you like me to give you?”

Taken off guard by the question, Spike blinked. “I - um…”

Rearing onto his hind legs, he placed his forehooves to either side of her torso while lowering his lips to her heaving chest. “Surely, you’d want more than the hoofful within you now.”

His assertion was true, she wouldn’t deny that, and the notion set her mind alight. Visions of herself surrounded by little striped foals playing with one another, while holding and allowing a pair to nurse from her breasts, assailed her. She didn’t want to give him an heir - on the contrary, she wanted to sire him a dynasty.

“A…a lot,” she croaked.

He breathed hotly on her nipple and peeked up at her. “A dozen? More than a dozen? Tell me, would you like me to pump a new brood into you as soon as you’ve given birth?”

Only barely able to stop her hand from clutching his mane and pulling him to her tit, she nodded. “Y…yeah…”

“It would be my honor - nay, my privilege to keep you heavy with foals,” he murmured. “With that fertile womb, these soon to be prolific bosoms, and your alluring physique, you’ll make the job all too easy for me…”

She gasped as he latched onto and began suckling on her breast. Her nipples had always been a weak point of hers, although that had only gotten worse after she’d started to lactate. Clutching the back of his head, she gnawed her lower lip in a desperate bid to keep quiet. If he didn’t stop and stop soon, she’d be left with no choice but to let him fuck her.

His assault was fleeting, with him pulling away and gulping down a mouthful of warm, sweet milk, but he was far from finished. As he rose to his full height and backed away, hopping off the bed, his eyes shot to her nethers. Her fate was in his hooves, she’d obey him without the slightest bit of protest, and he was keenly aware of it.

“If you want it - me, that is - perhaps you could inspire me,” he snickered.

Gazing into his eyes, Spike gradually lifted and splayed her legs. There was only so much anypony could withstand until their composure broke - for her, between his sinful tone, her wanton desires, and his promise of turning her into a veritable foal-factory, her self-control had been shattered outright. Though she couldn’t grab hold of her ankles, her mobility hindered by the trio of eggs inside of her, her shameless display proved sufficient enough to appease him.

Leaning in, he groaned as he began hotly making out with her ass. She couldn’t see him past her belly, yet the sensations he afforded bordered on the divine. Shaka was a masterful artist with bedroom affairs, and his long, muscular tongue was one of his finest brushes. While he locked lips with her pucker and ravished her insides, uncaring about the taste of his own essence marinating within her interior, the breath hitched in her throat.

Locked between rapture and dread, her paradoxical torment was beyond comprehension. She felt amazing, as good or better than ever, but the fear of one of her friends or, Celestia forbid, her mom finding her like this excited and horrified her in equal measure. Keeping her muzzle held shut with both hands, she watched her tits sway lightly as her chest rose and fell.

“Exquisite,” Shaka intoned, pulling back and lifting his head to lick his chops. “With all the heirs you’ll be bearing me, we’re going to start looking for a larger home.”

Spike dared not reply - not because she disagreed with him, but because she worried about what manner of sound would escape her. As he dipped his head and continued feasting upon her, her left hand drifted down to her tits. It wasn’t a matter of if she was going to climax from the oral, but when - bearing that in mind, she squeezed and milked one teat to hasten her release.

Steadily approaching her limit, understanding that her clawed hand would do a pitiable job at muffling her, she threw her arm up and fumbled for a pillow. Shaka must have noticed what she was doing, either seeing her frantic scrambling or sensing how close she was to cumming, considering he doubled down and pummeled her p-spot with his tongue. It was only by the mercy of some higher power that she was able to snatch up the cushion and pull it over her face when she did, because her climax struck her the instant she covered her face.

Her blissful wail was far from silenced completely, although it was muted just enough to keep any of her visitors from hearing her - she hoped. Mired in bliss and with her mind reeling, she breathed and quaked like a leaf. Though she’d successfully averted a catastrophe, her instincts told her that she wasn’t out of the woods quite yet.

Shaka’s lips and tongue departed her, the mattress creaked under an immense weight, and the pillow was torn from her grasp with enough force to tarnish her ecstasy. Moments from protesting and asking what had gotten into him, she felt it - the colossal tip of his stallionhood nudging her entrance. She could have told him no, and he undoubtedly would have respected her wishes to stop, but she was beyond saving. Until he was satisfied, his balls drained and cock licked clean, she wasn’t going anywhere.

Stepping in and driving his hips forward, he eased himself into her. “I truly am the luckiest stallion in the world ~ did you know that?”

“Mm-hmm,” she hastily replied through her hands locked over her muzzle.

“Don’t be so silly, dearest,” he breathed. “It would be one thing for you to be so coy for me, but think about your guests. You wouldn’t want them to think we don’t fully appreciate one another ~ would you?”

A wave of confusion washed over Spike as she peered up at him. She’d fully expected him to be smiling sweetly and looking at her, although his attention was leveled squarely at the door leading to the hallway. Following his gaze and to the exit, she went completely and utterly motionless. Somepony was lingering just outside watching her - somepony with a horn and sparkling, violet eyes.

Despite the terror gripping her, or perhaps because of it, Spike endured a mind-shattering orgasm. Her blissful howl rang in her ears, her entrance convulsed around Shaka’s immense length, and jizz seeped from her cage and down through the cleft of her ass. This wasn’t like her ceremony, an exchange of vows and a tangible expression of her love for her husband - this was an intimate exchange between herself and her lover.

While Shaka steadied himself and started rutting her properly, driving her comparably small body forward and back with each thrust, her eyes never wavered from Twilight’s face. Her mother was an alicorn of unfathomable power, a hero known throughout all Equestria, and had supported her like nopony ever had, although she was so much more than that. Clutching her breasts and playing with her nipples, she sought a second climax as soon as the last started to subside.

Having Twilight witness her in such a state was wrong on every conceivable level, yet it was unfathomably electrifying - so much so that her refractory period, something that scarcely existed when she was making love with Shaka, was erased in its entirety. Her third orgasm blindsided her, causing her to wail in ecstasy, and the fourth, fifth, and sixth threatened to destroy her mind.

This was the definition of insanity. There she lay, pregnant and less than a month from her delivery date, while her husband rutted her like a freight train - yes, he’d started slowly and gently at first, although a proud Zebrican stud could only hide his true colors for so long. As she continued staring at her Twilight, a startling revelation dawned on her. Her mom wasn’t simply watching her, she was getting off to the display.

The climax that came following the realization that Twilight, her very own mother, was getting off at the sight of her was nothing short of apocalyptic. Her muzzle hung open in a noiseless scream, milk flowed from her bosoms and down either side of her chest, and what little cum she had was forced out of her. It was an apotheosis of depravity, heralding new depths to her perversions, and it, like so many before it, marked a new standard of lechery she’d strive for.

Without breaking his rhythm, Shaka lowered his muzzle to the side of Spike’s head. “She should join us…”

The remark cut through Spike’s blissful haze like a scalpel. “W…what?”

“She should join us,” Shaka repeated. “Your - our foals will need playmates, so what better friends would they have than some little half-brothers or half-sisters…?”

Spike reeled at the implications, though his point was valid. The offspring of a dragon and zebra would likely be picked on and teased for their lineage, so having some hybrid half-siblings around for companionship and support could potentially spare hurt feelings or awkward questions. Ripping her eyes off Twilight, she turned her head and kissed Shaka’s ear.

“Only if you knock us both up at the same time,” she urged, her sanity in tatters.

“For you,” Shaka sweetly murmured while he hammered away at her battered cunt, “anything…”

And with that proclamation, he kissed her deeply and plunged his tongue down her throat. She had no way of knowing if this was all some sick dream or the twisted reality that was her life, although she couldn’t have cared less. Shaka was more than enough stallion for her to handle, even joking occasionally about making their relationship an open one so she didn’t end up hobbling around as often as she did, and there wasn’t a more fitting mare in Ponyville for him to claim as a third than Twilight.

What Twilight’s reaction would be to the proposal of joining them in the bedroom, if she’d agree to having a foal, and what the Princesses would think of a semi-incestuous harem for a Zebra were mysteries that would be solved later - for now, Spike had more pressing matters to address. Her incredible husband had just offered to expand their family in more ways than one, bringing her mother into the fold while siring even more of his young, and she couldn’t be more excited. Breaking the kiss, she locked her ankles on his muscular hips and bucked up to meet his thrusts.

“F…fill me!” she blared. “Claim your mare and - Aaaaaaaghn!”

Hilted her, he snarled and snorted atop her. She was already huge, so heavy with eggs that simple things like walking or bending over were difficult, although the shockingly immense volume of his foal-batter rushing into her made her all but immobile. Under the added weight of his seed, she sank into the mattress and was pinned by her distended, heavy belly. Adrift in a euphoric sea, she stared blankly up at the ceiling as he began backing away.

“Can’t - Nnph - forget this,” he grunted, wrenching his stallionhood free before slamming the plug into her backside. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell the mares you’re feeling a bit under the weather. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

Falteringly looking over at Shaka while he trotted to the door, Spike coughed. “A…and Twilight?”

Shaka stopped in his tracks and smiled broadly back at her. “I may ask her to stay for some personal time with her daughter.”

As Shaka departed without saying another word, a sly grin crept across Spike’s muzzle. She’d gone through more changes in her life than she could possibly count, ranging from the tangible to the psychological, and she stood at the threshold of yet another metamorphosis. Now that her hubby had set his sights on Twilight, it would only be a matter of time before her relationship with her mother took a wondrously perverted turn…