Cold Blood, Fiery Passion

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…