Cold Blood, Fiery Passion

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…