With one forehoof placed on the carriage’s wing, Bitsy turned and waved at the throng. Hundreds upon hundreds of ponies were gathered, white doves flew overhead, and there was much rejoicing. It truly was an ideal scene, like something from a foal’s fairytale wedding, yet his joy was completely and utterly feigned. The moment he turned away, stepped into the opulent stagecoach, and laid eyes on his bride, he scowled.
“Move over,” he growled after pulling the door closed behind him.
Sneering, Donut, the Baroness of Bonbon, curled her lip. “Buck you…”
Bitsy closed his eyes and gnashed his teeth as he eased himself into the seat beside her. To say there was friction between them would be an understatement of monumental proportions. He was the Kaiser of Cruller, a prominent kingdom situated on the eastern portion of the island they resided upon, while she ruled the western realm of Bonbon. Their empires had been at war for generations, far longer than either of them had been alive, and they’d put an end to it.
“See something you like?” he jeered, noticing her leering over at him.
Donut snorted and looked away. “Buck…you…”
“Oh you will be soon enough,” he mirthlessly laughed. “It’s not like I’m going to enjoy it, but we both know what we signed up for.”
With a snow white, confetti-streaked mane and tail, tanned coat, glimmering turquoise eyes, and plenty of cushion for his eventual pushin’, she was easier on the eyes than all the propaganda made her out to be - nevertheless, her attitude had been anything but cordial. Neither of them wanted to become friends, much less marry one another, yet the conflict between their nations had to end. There was only so much insulin to go around, obesity rates had skyrocketed, and both of their countries were running low on their emergency confectionary stockpiles - as such, peace was brokered.
Feeling his eyes upon her, Donut whipped her head around and squinted. “Like you could handle any of this,” she jested, lowering one forehoof to her flank. “Just tell me if you need one of my studly guards - you know, if you can’t get it up…”
She smirked as he rolled his eyes and folded his forehooves over his chest. It was anypony’s guess as to whether the stories about his wanton, exquisitely gay escapades with the soldiery were true, although she’d find out soon enough. While she really hadn’t planned on becoming a mother anytime soon, surrendering her womb was a small price to pay for the good of her subjects.
As her eyes wandered up and down his frame, she staved off the temptation to get a look at his nethers. It had been ages since she’d gotten laid, truth be told, and she supposed that having the convenience of a stallion at her beck and call was one silver lining. Contrary to popular belief, being a Baroness wasn’t all peaches and cream - well, peaches and cream were a staple in her castle, but it was still a difficult job.
For starters, she had to present herself in a stately fashion at virtually every waking hour - secondly and even more infuriatingly, she wasn’t allowed to indulge in the simple joys of life. Going out for greasy fast food was beneath her, genuinely fun parties were a thing of the past, and sex - hah - she hadn’t gotten a good pounding since she snuck off with a guard after graduating from the royal academy! Simply put, she was going to make the best of a less than ideal situation.
Leaning forward, she rapped a forehoof on the front of the carriage compartment. “We can go now!”
The stagecoach lurched forward and began to move seconds after she testily bellowed. Now that the abhorrent ceremony was over, with everypony placated by the spectacle of seeing them say their vows, there was only one thing left to do - consummate what would assuredly be a loveless marriage of necessity. Pulling a folded booklet from under her ample tush, one she’d stored expressly for the ride back to her keep, she bided her time by playing sudoku.
Bitsy sighed and gazed out the window. It would have been bad enough to get hitched to a pretentious cow, but the fact that he wasn’t even going to be able to sleep in his own castle that evening made the situation all the more lamentable. After a brief argument before the wedding, in which both he and Donut insisted on returning to their respective palaces, they’d settled on a coin toss - a coin toss which he’d lost.
The good news was that the trip was relatively short, taking no more than an hour - the bad news was that the sun had set, he was exhausted from the nuptials and subsequent festivities, and he wasn’t exactly looking forward to sharing a bed with somepony who’d essentially been trying to kill him for most of his life. Jolting as the carriage came to an abrupt halt, he reached for the door.
“I - huh…” he grunted, taken aback by the courtyard he found himself within. “So it’s not a total pigsty.”
Barging past him, Donut debarked. “Oh screw you. I bet it’s way, way nicer than that hovel you call a castle.”
“Is…is not!” Bitsy insisted, lying through his teeth.
With a quartet of towers, imposing walls, and a central structure that frankly put his keep to shame, the Bonbon palace was actually pretty damn swanky looking. Trotting to and past his bride’s side, he took the lead. This may not have technically been his place, but he sure as heck wasn’t going to get led around like some lost, confused colt.
Donut snarled as she surged ahead of him. “It’s this way, dummy!”
Though he’d actually been heading in the right direction, she wasn’t about to tell him that. There was no way in Tartarus she was going to let him set a precedent, so she did the only thing she could think to do - she went around her ass to get to her elbow. Was it petty to take him on a twenty minute trot that should have only lasted a measly two or three? Yes. Was it worth it to make him feel like an idiot? Absolutely.
After a circuitous journey that left her hooves sorer than she cared to admit, she slowed to a halt and rested one forehoof on the handle of a huge, arched doorway. “Rule number one: don’t touch my stuff. Rule two: until I get you a doggy bed, I’ll allow you to sleep with me.”
Bitsy knit his brow. “Haha - so I guess I’ll downgrade your pillow fort at my castle then…”
“You built me a pillow fort?” she scoffed. “Jeez - you really are immature.”
Without waiting for a reply, she saw herself into her bedchamber. Everything was exactly as she’d left it, and she intended to keep it that way. Her bed was situated to one side of the room, while her vanity, dresser, and wardrobe sat opposite. Contrary to popular belief, her sanctuary, the one place she had all to herself, wasn’t as luxurious as the ponies of her nation openly assumed it was.
She turned and looked back when she approached the foot of her bed. “So…”
“Well I would ask you if you want it from the back or missionary, but I don’t really care,” Bitsy groused. Glancing over to a partially open door, he nodded. “Is that the bathroom?”
“It is,” she murmured. “Why?”
“Gonna go freshen up,” he huffed. Stopping in his tracks, he smirked back at her. “Unless you want to lick me - Mmmph?!” Stumbling to the side, he grimaced down at the pillow that had just impacted against his face. “I’ll take that as a -”
“Just go shower already,” Donut groaned while reaching for a second cushion to lob at him.
Bitsy shrugged, trotted into the bathroom, then kicked the door shut with a hind leg. Wonderful - things were off to such a lovely start. As she heard the shower begin to run, her eyes darted over to her dresser. She’d been well aware of what was coming, that she’d have to bear an heir for their now mutual kingdom, and she’d planned for the occasion accordingly.
She didn’t have to like Bitsy to have him fuck her brains out, although enticing him would be a prudent, if not disgusting idea. For all she cared, he was simply going to be a turkey baster and live-in sex toy. She could and, if push came to shove, would use him like a living, breathing dildo, but it would be much more enjoyable if he put his bits where his obscene mouth was.
Of all the things that had shocked her about Bitsy, his vulgarity took the top of the inglorious list. He talked like a sailor, making passes at her nearly from the moment they first met, and she’d caught him eyeing her tush a hoofful of times in the last hour! While it may have been foolish for her to hold out hope that he was decent in bed, her keen ears had listened intently to a number of rumors spread amongst her subjects.
It had taken a monumental amount of willpower not to risk glances at his goods, but she’d managed to abstain from being caught with her metaphorical hoof in the cookie jar. Several of her attendants, including one she considered a close friend, spoke in hushed whispers about how Bitsy was exquisitely well hung. With visions of a big, meaty stallionhood prancing about her thoughts, she scampered to her wardrobe.
She moved with a purpose, gathering up an outfit she’d selected just for this night before stepping over to her vanity. The attire she’d selected was nothing short of scandalous, consisting of leggings, crotchless panties, garters, and a frilly little choker, although her slatternly garb was only one element to her provocative preparations. After getting dressed and checking herself out in her mirror, she set to applying her makeup. Bitsy might not have known it, but he was going to be in for a surprise that would leave any stallion drooling - well, any straight stallion.
Scrunching her snout, she closed one eye and applied some eye-shadow. Sweet Celestia - if it turned out that Bitsy really did have sugar in his tank, she was going to throttle him. She hadn’t been joking on their ride back to her keep, she would find some guard to get him worked up enough for her to have her way with him, but that would only be as a last resort. With her cosmetics complete, finishing with the smallest spritz of perfume, she proceeded to her bed to await her well-endowed - ugh - husband…
Bitsy blindly fumbled for a shelf that didn’t exist as he awkwardly turned in the shower. Who the heck didn’t have a rack for shampoo and conditioner - moreover, why did Donut not have a bottle of body wash?! It was common knowledge that the ponies of Bonbon were philistines, but this was ridiculous! Ultimately throwing in the metaphorical towel, he turned his head to the stream of warm, refreshing water. If nothing else, he’d gotten clean enough before eventually getting dirty.
The thought of plowing a foal into the stuck-up Baroness was enough to bring a smile to his muzzle and send blood surging to his loins. She couldn’t have realized it, but she was going to have a night she would never forget - heck, once he was through with her, she wouldn’t be able to be satisfied by any other stallion! Turning off the flow of water, he cocked one hind leg and peeked back at his pride and joy.
“Showtime, buddy,” he mused to his package as he stepped out of the basin.
Yeah, this was going to be fantastic. Breeding a snooty bitch and getting the first member of what assuredly would be a record-setting harem? Heck yes, he could live with that! In mere minutes, he’d have her squealing like a lucky filly on prom night - he just knew it. While he slowly dried himself off, taking his time and basking in his impending conquest, his mind went wild with possibilities.
Donut would be the first and arguably most important member of his concubines, but there’d be more - many more. After he was through with her, making her a cock-addled cum-dump, he’d move on to the rest of the mares in the castle. He gave himself a month, maybe three at tops to have everypony in the palace under his thrall - shoot, if there were a few femcolts who were cute enough, he might just take them too!
Looking to the mirror, he checked out his reflection. He might not have looked perfect, his mane and tail still slightly damp, but he was certainly dashing enough to put Donut in her place. Strutting out with a spring in his step, holding his head high, he turned to the bed, stumbled over his hooves, and went slack-jawed.
He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to find, but it definitely wasn’t the sight which awaited him. Lying across her bed, bedecked in lace and silken fineries, Donut looked like something from a dirty magazine - a tasteful one, but raunchy all the same. Her heavily-lidded eyes, exposed bosoms, and drenched loins were enthralling to a fault and gave him a moment for pause.
Running one forehoof from her chest down to her teats, Donut smirked. “I hope this isn’t too much…”
Licking her lips, she expectantly eyed his crotch. Any second - any bucking second, his stallionhood was going to drop. As her marehood winked in anticipation, sending rivulets of nectar seeping into her panties and down her thigh, her heart raced. Giggling to herself, she raised her hind leg and pawed at her nethers.
“Don’t be shy on my account,” she cooed. “As you can see, I’m…”
She trailed off when something caught her eye. Something was peeking from beneath his belly, although she honestly couldn’t tell what she was looking at. Narrowing her eyes, she twisted onto her stomach. Whatever she was looking at was small - meaning one of two things.
“Please don’t tell me you’re actually a faggot…” she lamented.
“I’m not gay!” Bitsy snapped. “As a matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been harder in my life!”
Askance, Donut rocked back. “Horse apples! There’s no bucking way you’re -”
“See!” Bitsy interrupted, turning and lifting one hind leg to give her an unfettered view of his crotch.
Donut’s jaw nearly hit the floor as she stared in disbelief at his package. She understood that stallions came in all different shapes and sizes, and that their endowments were much the same, although she couldn’t understand what she was seeing. Heaving herself from the bed, she stormed over, grabbed his fetlock, and brought her face to his groin.
Contrasted against an ordinary pair of balls, his equipment was, in a word, minuscule - no, smaller than that. She may not have had a ruler handy, but his length or lack thereof couldn’t have been more than two inches - maybe three, if she was feeling generous. For buck’s sake, most colts were packing more heat than him. She burst into manic laughter and released him as she finally put the pieces together.
“Ok ok,” she wheezed, barely able to speak, “I get what’s going on here. You took a potion or something ~ didn’t you?”
Bitsy stomped his hoof and snorted petulantly. “Why the hay would I do that?! Don’t tell me you’re scared of it!”
As Donut shifted her attention up to his face, Donut’s expression fell and a crushing realization dawned on her. “Y…you’re serious ~ aren’t you? You really t…think that -”
“That I’ve got the fattest cock you’ve ever seen? Yeah - yeah I do!”
Rocking back to her haunches, Donut stared into the ether. This wasn’t as bad as it could have been, it was so much worse. Not only was Bitsy hung like a piece of hard candy, one of her least favorite sweets, but he was completely delusional or outright insane - possibly both. Numbly shaking her head, she unwittingly glanced down at his diminutive tool.
“I’m…I’m so screwed…” she breathed.
“Darn right you are!” he guffawed. “Now get on the bed and spread ‘em. Hubby’s gonna give you some lovin’.”
Something about his tone and cockiness, despite having a lackluster of cock, struck a nerve within Donut. Getting to her hooves, seconds from launching into a verbal assault over just how wrong he was, she was graced with divine inspiration. She was stuck with him for the foreseeable future, like it or not, so bitching him out and making a scene wouldn’t do much good - instead, a little demonstration may be the most prudent option.
“How about - Wha?!” she gasped as she was lifted and flung onto her mattress. “Hey, I didn’t tell you to -”
“Sssssssh,” he hissed while prizing her lower legs apart. “Just get comfy…”
Bitsy pulled her to the edge of the bed and placed her knees to either side of his head. He could see why she was so out of sorts, considering she’d just gotten an eyeful of the biggest, meatiest stallionhood she’d ever seen, and he found her reaction kind of cute - be that as it may, he was going to get his dick wet. Dragging his cheek along her inner thigh, he brought his muzzle to her goods and deeply inhaled.
The scent of her arousal was staggering, unlike anything he’d ever smelled before - mostly because he’d never been this close to a mare. One of the drawbacks of being royalty was that he’d never really had the opportunity to get any experience between the sheets - ok, he may have on one or two occasions, although it would have looked very, very bad if he’d ended up siring some bastard with a servant or that broad who worked in the kitchen who was constantly giving him fuck me eyes. Drawing from all the articles he’d read in magazines, the discussions he’d overheard from the soldiery back at his keep, and his intuition, he dove in and drew his tongue over her succulent pussy.
Sweet, exotic flavors danced over his taste buds, the heady bouquet of her arousal clung to his sinuses, and the sight of her face, only slightly obscured by her breasts, was heavenly - in short, the moment eclipsed his disdain for her and her empire. Bringing his lips to her bulging clit, he tenderly suckled on the delicate bud of flesh. While he felt sure that not every mare enjoyed oral, the literature he’d consumed had the overwhelming consensus that eating somepony out was a sure fire way to get them all sorts of riled up.
Donut gnawed her lower lip while peering down at him. Buck - this was bad. She’d been moments from raking him over the coals for the baby carrot he was so darn proud of, although his oral skills weren’t to be trifled with. Maybe he’d trained his tongue to compensate for his little cock, or perhaps he really had downed some elixir or had a spell cast upon him to make him appear to have a foal’s dick - in either case, she wasn’t about to tell him to stop.
“R…right there,” she stuttered, reaching down and seizing a hoofful of his mane to keep him focused on her clit.
Heaven help her - how long had it been since somepony had feasted upon her? Though she couldn’t recall the exact date, the foreplay met and exceeded her expectations by an order of magnitude. If nothing else, should he really have such a pathetic endowment, keeping him around to much her carpet wouldn’t be the worst thing.
Slipping her fetlocks to the back of his head, she locked his muzzle to her snatch while she brought her forehooves to her breasts. It would have been nice if he was in a position to play with her teats, although she was perfectly content to handle that herself - plus giving him a show could prove or disprove her theory about his goods. Neither potions or enchantments lasted forever, especially if they were having to work particularly hard - bearing that in mind, she loudly moaned while tweaking her perky, fully erect nipples.
Groaning into her, Bitsy rocketed towards his breaking point. While he had no way to tell how long he’d been nestled between her plump thighs, he could tell she was getting close - she had to be. The way her chest was heaving, how her legs quaked, and the pitch of her lustful whimpers smacked of a mare on the brink, and he wasn’t about to finish her off with his mouth. He stopped as abruptly as he’d begun, wriggling free from her clutches and rearing up to his hind legs.
“Alright,” he purred, waggling his eyebrows as he placed his forehooves to either side of her hips, “I think that’s enough of that...”
Bolting upright and breathing hard, Donut glanced from his stallionhood to his face then back to his tool “W…why’d you stop?”
“I mean…” he mumbled while bucking his hips and tapping the tip of his glorious dick to her entrance. “It’s obvious ~ isn’t it?”
“You…you can’t be serious…” she grumbled.
Some ponies had to learn the hard way, and Donut was clearly one of them. Stepping closer to her, Bitsy rolled his hips back and hilted her with a single, unrelenting thrust. He almost felt bad for her - almost, but that wasn’t enough to stop him from putting her in her place. Gazing down at her slavering marehood and his buried shaft, he peered up at her face and faltered.
Something was wrong - seriously wrong. Could Donut be some size-queen of a strumpet? Had she brutalized her snatch simply in preparation to accommodate his magnificent stallionhood? Was there a chance that she’d, Celestia forbid, taken some sort of concoction to elasticize her depths? Whatever the case may be, she didn’t appear bothered by the monstrous intrusion - if anything, she looked disappointed.
Cooly meeting his gaze, she said the unthinkable. “Is it even in?”
His heart sank, a cold pit formed in his stomach, and the blood in his veins turned to ice. No, this had to be a ruse of some sort! Of course it was in! How the hay could she be serious?! Setting his jaw, he pulled out all the stops and started rutting her with every ounce of strength. So help him, even if he ended up putting her in traction, he would leave her a gushing, quivering heap of limbs.
Completely at a loss for words, Donut gently rocked forward and back atop the mattress. She could feel the impact of his hips, just as she could hear him huffing and puffing atop her, but there was only the slightest sensation of something nudging her lower lips. Heaven help her - she’d been right, he didn’t have anything to work with!
“Stop,” she growled. When he didn’t comply, she pulled one hind leg back, placed her hoof against his chest, and shoved him away. “I said stop, you foal-dicked loser!”
He stumbled back and nearly fell before catching himself and glaring at her. “What the hay?! Why aren’t you begging for mercy or -”
“Mercy?!” she cackled as she rolled over and got her hooves beneath her. “You couldn’t make a hamster beg for mercy! I mean, look at that thing!”
Following her gaze, he looked back at his package. “What about it?”
“It’s just - Ugh!” she cried in frustration. Igniting her horn and hopping from the bed, she levitated him from the floor and placed him on the mattress. It wasn’t hard to keep him pinned, in spite of his struggling, and that suited her just fine. Casually sauntering to her nightstand, she opened the drawer and thrust her hoof inside. “I guess I’ll just have to show you what the problem is…”
She splayed his limbs and held him firmly to the bed, ensuring he wouldn’t go anywhere as she returned and placed her most favorite dildo directly beside his prick. The difference between his stallionhood and the toy were stark - so stark that it illustrated her point perfectly. Next to her sex-toy, his itsy bitsy…
Bitsy - holy cow, that was it! Her magic sputtered and faded while she fell to the floor and clutched her stomach in mirth. The irony was too good, the sort of thing she couldn’t have made up if she tried, and it was too much to bear. Cracking up so hard that she cried and fought to breathe, she barely noticed a shadow looming over her.
“It’s not small!” Bitsy seethed, his voice barely rising over her uncontrolled mirth. “If anything, it’s big compared to most stallions! It’s not my fault that you’re some sort of masochist who likes -”
“Who the hay are you kidding?!” she chuckled. Sending power into her horn, she arcanely tossed him back onto the mattress and held him down. “That toy of mine is just a bit bigger than average!”
With her composure regained, if only enough to let her function properly, she hopped back onto the bed and stepped up to his head. She couldn’t say how he’d gotten convinced that he was well-hung by any metric, but it was time to set the record straight. As she hovered the length of silicone up and placed it next to his prick, a thrill shot through her.
“Look at it,” she demanded, “that is what a stallionhood is supposed to look like.
It was at that moment that she made a shocking revelation. Any stud worth his salt would have been totally emasculated by the display, their libido crushed by being outclassed by a modestly-sized dildo, although Bitsy’s colthood was twitching and leaking pre-cum like a broken faucet. Something was clearly wrong with him, even if she didn’t fully understand what it was, and it filled her with an inexplicable, wild desire to torment him.
Surrounding his meager shaft with her aura, she delicately squeezed him and caused him to writhe. “I’ve seen mares with bigger clits than that thing you have - in fact, are you sure you’re a stallion?”
“I…I’m not a mare,” he croaked while his hips spasmed and back arched.
“You’re not?” she mockingly gasped. Swinging one leg over his head, she squatted down and brought her marehood to the tip of his nose. “Compared to that cute little nub of yours, I’m pretty sure I should be wearing the pants in this relationship…”
Bitsy drew in her musk with every panting breath while his face was bathed in the heat of her loins. Though he was annoyed for any number of reasons, the mere possibility that he wasn’t going to ruin her for any other stallion evoked a curious mixture of emotions within him. The logical part of his mind told him he should be incensed by being humiliated, yet another, far more baffling part of him was profoundly aroused.
“Suck it,” she muttered.
Looking up and seeing her peeking down at him, he pursed his lips. “What?”
“Suck my clit,” she coldly clarified. “If you do a good enough job, I might - might let you hump me with that button mushroom of yours.”
She didn’t move, remaining motionless as she finished speaking. Caught at a crossroads, he swallowed hard. On one hoof, he should have protested or told her to buck herself at such an absurd demand - on the other, he was compelled to do as she’d asked. He couldn’t explain it - heck, he couldn’t even wrap his head around something that should have been furious, yet he’d never been more turned on in his entire life.
Shivering as he lifted his head and nursed on her clit, Donut eased herself on his face. “Good colt.”
He suppressed a pleased whine as something cold and lifeless smacked against his package. It took him a second to figure out what was going on, unable to see anything other than her ass and winking pucker, but then reality hit him. The toy - she was lightly beating his prick with the darned toy!
While he highly doubted the dildo was anything even close to average, being what seemed to be nearly a foot long and thicker than his pastern, the dimensions of the weighty piece of silicone weren’t all that important. Wading through his bliss, he put his tongue and lips to work. Gosh darn it - her preference for immense intrusions notwithstanding, he would put a foal in her and prove he was the stud of her dreams before the night was through.
“From - oh buck - n…now on, I t…think I’ll let you wear my panties,” she stammered, rocking her hips forward and back to grind her cunt over his face. “N…not like anypony will be able to tell you’re a stallion a…anyways…”
Her remarks cut deep, all but flaying him to the bone, yet they were electrifying. Why ~ why was this so hot?! His bewilderment meant nothing whatsoever as it was consumed by a welling tide of passion. The harder he tried to please her, the more ruthless she became - the more ruthless she became, the closer she pushed him to his limit.
Leaning forward and draping herself atop him, she breathed hotly on his trembling prick. “You gonna cum for me, foal dick? Gonna blow your weak little load out of that tiny tool of yours?”
He moaned into her velvety folds as he strained to hold himself back. She may not have grasped how right she was about him teetering on the brink, but he wasn’t going to be able to last for much longer - not at this rate. The anticipation of finally getting laid, her dominance and good looks, and his internal conflict was too much - far too much for him to handle. Twisting and squirming, he summoned every ounce of his willpower to get her off.
Giving her a climax ultimately wouldn’t mean much of anything, although it would make him feel slightly better about both himself and the inglorious circumstances. Humming softly, he tenderly suckled on her clit. His efforts weren’t in vain, leading to Donut mewling in delight as she quaked atop him.
Emboldened and fueled by determination, he endured. So help him, if it was the last thing he did, she was going to peak before him. It was a race to the finish between who could outlast the other, and he hoped - prayed he wouldn’t lose. Celestia help him - if things were this bad on their wedding night, he’d hate to think how imperious she’d become if she truly didn’t have a use for him.
The breath hitched in Donut’s throat, her depths seized, and the telltale signs of her impending release grew stronger with every passing second. After everything she’d been through, including the edging she’d received minutes prior, there was nothing she could do to stop herself. With her eyes locked on Bitsy’s colthood, seeing it flare and intensely throb, she met her rapturous end.
“Buck yes,” she howled as she closed her eyes and succumbed to her climax.
The waves of ecstasy that washed over her were heavenly, stronger than any orgasm in memory, yet they were interrupted when something hot splashed over her face. Cracking one eye open, she watched Bitsy’s colthood spasm and erupt like a miniature volcano. While she was overjoyed by his sign of surrender, cumming with the barest bit of stimulation, she quickly snapped from her euphoric stupor.
Buck - this was bad. Their marriage was mostly for show, although they truly did need to produce an heir of their now unified kingdoms - yeah, it wasn’t like she had to leave the bedchamber bun in her foal-factory, but she’d rather be impregnated sooner rather than later. Wiping ropes of jizz from her face, she snarled and pushed herself up.
“W…where are you going,” he rasped.
Jumping off the bed, she marched to the exit. “Don’t move…”
Bitsy winced as she slammed the door shut and made her leave. To say he felt torn about what had just happened would be an understatement. The humiliation of having a wife with unrealistic expectations and a penchant for oversized sex-toys was less than ideal, but he took some small solace from bringing her to the gates of nirvana. Unsure of where she’d gone, how long it would be until she returned, or what he was supposed to do in her absence, he rolled onto his stomach and wiped his face off on the sullied bed sheets.
It was a small mercy that she got back after only a hoofful of minutes, though what she brought with her immediately piqued his interest. Staring at the object that levitated beside her, he cocked his head. “Is that -”
“A piping bag,” she noted. “I thought I told you not to move?”
Obeying her out of impulse, he flopped onto his side then back. “And t…that’s for…”
Leaving the question to hang, he observed her go to her nightstand and retrieve a length of rope. Why a Baroness would have such an item in her room was a mystery for the ages - or so he thought. As she magically sheared the cord into four equal lengths with her magic and began fastening them to his limbs, the pieces of the puzzle came together.
“H…hey,” he weakly protested as his legs were bound to the bedposts.
Donut ignored him as she slid a leather strap around his lower back. “We need a foal, so we’re going to make one…”
His view of the piping bag being draped over his rapidly hardening cock was obscured when she secured the dildo to his crotch. “Y…you’re j…joking…”
“Nope,” she flippantly replied as she leapt to the bed and walked over his supine form. “Now it doesn’t matter if that micro-dick of yours is hard or not.”
Gazing down at the downright colossal sex-toy strapped to his groin, Bitsy gulped. He knew he should have felt offended, that this was mockery at its finest, yet imagining himself as having a truly monstrous endowment fanned the flames of his lust like nothing had before. Drawing his eyes over Donut’s snatch, teats, and chest, he peered up at her face.
“Ready?” she sweetly inquired.
Though he was given no real choice in the matter, he nodded. The sight of her impaling herself upon him may have - no, it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. Captivated by the spectacle, his brain did the unthinkable. The dildo was simply a toy, an item that wasn’t a part of him, yet he could feel her clamping down around its sculpted shaft.
She wasted no time getting down to business, bucking her hips and wantonly screwing herself on him. Trying and failing to meet her descents, he was forced to spectate his own conquest. It was debased, wholly unbefitting of a royal like himself, and he should have been mortified - still, he thrust as hard as his restraints would allow. As the bouquet of sweat and sex graced his nose, his mind went blank.
From an outsider’s perspective, the scene was one of utter depravity. There Bitsy was, bound up and wearing a makeshift strap-on, while Donut moaned and unabashedly rode him. Anypony would have been able to tell that a power dynamic was being forged, one that would set the standard for how things were going to be between the lecherous pair, and the newlyweds both accepted it with open forelegs.
On and on they went, thrashing and caving to their most perverse desires, until Bitsy went rigid. Irrespective of how his colthood had gone completely untouched, he brayed to the heavens and filled the piping bag with his essence. Donut didn’t slow in the slightest from his climax - on the contrary, breaking him sent her hurtling to the threshold. Hilting herself on the toy and relishing the sensation of its medial ring grinding against her g-spot, she threw her head back and screamed in ecstasy.
Save for the sound of panting, the air grew still and silent as the pair rode out their bliss. While it was a far departure from a typical wedding night, they’d both gotten some satisfaction from the exchange. Shakily laying on Bitsy’s chest, Donut used her magic to remove the bag sheathing his softening prick.
“H…hold still,” she whispered.
Bitsy couldn’t see what she was doing, but the way she shuddered told him everything he needed to know. He’d just been used as a sperm donor, knocking her up without the gratification of doing the deed himself. Opening his mouth, feeling as though he should say something in the quasi-intimate moment, he was silenced when she brought a forehoof to his lips.
Looking him in the eye, she furrowed her brows. “I’m not kissing you,” she sighed. “Tomorrow, we’ll go shopping to get you a proper strap-on.”
“A…and some toys?” he meekly asked as she withdrew her hoof.
She rolled her eyes and smirked. “And some toys, but only if you’re good.”
There was no kiss, no show of affection, but their actions spoke for themselves. While it was highly unorthodox, they’d found a solution to cope with their disdain and deficiencies. Only time would tell how things would develop between the two, or if they’d ever harbor any feelings for one another, but that was a bridge they’d cross if or when they came to it - for now, weary and reasonably content, they shared one another’s warmth and mused on what the future held for them…
